Quinn grabbed onto her tunic, her voice soft and desperate. As if she was a virgin, giving into her wildest lusts. “Oh Dimas!”
Her tunic went sailing off to land behind her. Dimas showed that he knew at least something about his work – his palms cupped both of the smaller woman’s breasts, squeezing them as he leaned forward, capturing one of Quinn’s breasts. He sucked on her nipple with eager, wet, slurping noises. Quinn moaned, her head rolling backwards as she started to grind against him.
Dimas broke the kiss and started to push Quinn backwards – but as she laid back, Kailey made her move. She took hold of his wrist, guiding it between her legs. Her shift crinkled as his hand pushed under, caressing her thighs. Then his fingertips – soft, gentle fingertips, the fingertips of a scholar – pressed to her sex. He thrust one tentatively inside and Kailey put a bit of a theatrical gasp to her voice as his finger crooked inside of her. Questing. Questing.
Questing.
Still... fiddling around.
Quinn, meanwhile, had spread her thighs and used her feet to push Dimas’ kilt down, freeing his cock. Looking at it, Kailey had to bite her lip to repress a frustrated growl. This was exactly why she and Quinn rarely laid with men when they weren’t trying to, well, manipulate them. Like right now, for instance. Not only had he still not found her center of pleasure, but his member would only have been impressive for a goblin male.
And if Quinn and Kailey had been satisfied with even impressive goblin men, they would have never left their home villages.
Kailey reached down to start gently rubbing her own clit as Dimas seemed convinced that he was Odysseus and would need to spend ten years to find her fucking G-spot.
Quinn moaned, faking pleasure and shocked eagerness as Dimas slid into her. He had to be helped by her hand, guiding him in. His free hand was caught between Kailey’s thighs after all, while his other hand was pressed to the ground to give himself some support. He started to thrust into Quinn, his balls gently slapping against her ass. Quinn put her best acting into it, her back arching as she mewled and moaned and cooed: “Oh Dimas! Oh Dimas!”
Kailey’s own rubbing set her fireworks off as she quivered atop his hand, moaning his name as well. Dimas, as she had expected, lasted two thrusts more before burying himself deep inside of Quinn (well, as deep as he could manage.) As he panted into her neck and drew his hand from Kailey’s thighs, Kailey looked irritatedly at the sky.
“So, when can we, ah, do this again?” Quinn asked, her voice husky.
“Uh-”
“Cause we haven’t met someone like you for a long time,” Quinn whispered, her fingers caressing Dimas’ chest. “Maybe...we can come up to the cliffs while you work here and you can...relax?”
Dimas beamed a huge, stupid smile.
“Sounds great!”
Kailey and Quinn walked down and away from the cliffs.
Muttering to one another
***
Fizit stood in the darkened corridor, watching as Tethis and several other court wizards – many of them specialists in fields other than healing – walked around Tethis. Books and tomes from the palace libraries were spread about, but Fizit could sense the lack of understanding from the collected wizards. Tethis threw up her hands and stalked off, walking past Fizit without even noticing her.
You’d think almost being assassinated would give you better instincts, Fizit thought.
Liv had remained in a coma – thankfully without exploding again – for the past week. In that time, Liam’s ship had sailed to distant Uten-Ha and started home. The watch stations had reported that he had Anubis. But until then, his palace remained a tense place. Without a home, and with something that the City of Babylon desperately needed to understand, Tethis hadn’t been able to refuse Fizit’s offer to stay here.
But that hadn’t made Tethis warm to her.
Fizit knew she should have just put the thought of it behind her. She should just... not care.
She had been quite good at not caring, before. Focus on the mission. Ignore the pieces, save for the factors that mattered to your objectives. People were tools. It was how you survived in the world of spies and ciphers, secrets and lies, kings and emperors. But... but... but... Tethis was one of Liam’s oldest friends. She was the second person on Purgatory he had met who hadn’t been trying to murder him. He made love to her almost as often as he made love to Meg. Meg! She shook her head and stalked after Tethis as the other woman walked to her chambers.
A clattering of scales and claws on tiles announced the arrival of Brax. He skidded around the corner, laughing, and then saw that he was about to smash into Tethis. He squalled, scrabbled at the ground, then smashed right into her chest. The two went sprawling on the ground. Fizit froze – her eyes wide. Tethis laughed as she rolled onto her back, wincing only slightly as she sat up.
“And who are-” she stopped dead.
Brax looked at her. The fusion of Liam’s features and Fizit’s had to be clear as day. Besides, who else would he be?
Fizit felt as if she was torn between three different instincts. Observe and report. Rush in to protect her son. Start scolding the little hellion for running around in the palace when he should be studying. Caught there, she simply froze as Tethis picked up Brax with a grunt and set him to the side.
“Hi,” Brax said. “You’re Dad’s friend, Tethis, right?”
Tethis gulped. “R-Right. I, uh, yes. And you’re...”
“Brax!” He puffed up his chest. “I’m named after Marion's dad. Auntie Liv’s her mom, and Fizit’s my mom, but Brax the Golden and Fizit weren’t related, but they were friends. So, she’s basically my sister. Are you a goblin? I haven’t met many goblins, but I hear you’re the best at flying gliders. Is that because you’re small?”
Tethis blinked, slowly. “Uh, maybe? I don’t know, honestly.”
Brax nodded, sagely. His hands gripped his thin, whippy tail, and he looked solemn. “When I grow up, I want to fly gliders. But Dad says that they’re too dangerous. But if they’re so dangerous, why does he get to go on a boat to sail around the world?” he paused. “I miss Dad.”
“I miss your dad too,” Tethis said.
“You do?” Brax asked. “But you never visit.”
Tethis looked as if she had been slapped.
“But Dad says it’s cause you’re busy. But Maid Theresa says that it’s cause you hate Mom. Do you hate Mom?”
Fizit felt her throat closing tight. Tethis sighed, quietly.
“No, I don’t, b-”
“Oh, that’s good!” Brax seemed to be entirely relieved. Then, grinning, he said: “You won’t tell anyone I wasn’t doing my maths, right?”
Tethis stammered something that could have been a yes or no. Brax beamed at her, showing off every one of his sharp teeth before turning and running off. As he rushed away, Fizit felt her freeze break. She reached out, caught him by the back of his shirt, then swung him around into her arms. She held him and glared down at him, emerging from the shadows.
“Brax Vanderbilt,” she said, growling. “What’s this about not doing your maths?”
“But Mom!” Brax whined.
Tethis was standing up. She rubbed her slightly bruised butt as she looked at Fizit. Fizit looked at her as Brax squirmed in her arms.
“Fizit,” Tethis said, her voice formal.
“Tethis,” Fizit said.
Brax stopped squirming. He was young – far younger than a lizardman of his age would have been – but he was still able to sense that now was a time to keep quiet. His tail twitched from side to side. Fizit looked into Tethis’ face. She could see the warmth in the other woman’s eyes. Not for her. For Brax. She loved him, despite his origin, despite her, despite his name, despite everything. It had taken one meeting and Tethis was ready to accept her son. The small chink around Fizit’s heart was struck with the force of a cannon. She gasped and felt tears blur her vision. But she could see tears glimmering in Tethis’ eyes as well.
�
��I’m sorry!” Tethis and Fizit said at the same moment.
“What are you sorry for?” Brax asked.
“I had no...no excuse, no excuse, I shouldn’t have, I should have-” Fizit stammered.
“No, no, no, you were protecting your people!” Tethis said, stepping forward, putting her hands on Fizit’s arms – reaching up to do so.
Fizit sniffed. “But you were almost killed!”
“It was war,” Tethis said, nodding quickly.
The two women lapsed into silence. Sniffled. Then Fizit laughed, shaking her head. “You’re saying the same things I said to myself,” she whispered, huskily.
Tethis wiped at her eyes. “If I hold onto my grudge, I’ll have to cut this little guy out of my life. Hell, I’ve practically cut Liam out of my life. I miss him. And...” She paused. “My fear doesn’t need to spoil our relationship. Right?”
Fizit nodded, then sniffled. “I still owe you. So much. I owe everyone so much. For what I did. For what we did.”
Tethis smiled at her.
Brax, who had been looking between the women, blinked.
“Are you two going to fuck now?” he asked, innocently.
“Brax!” Tethis gasped.
“Who taught you that word?” Fizit growled.
“I heard Mom Meg say it,” Brax said, defensively.
And, as often happened in bitter wars, the most unlikely of friendships could be formed when faced with a greater threat.
Fizit and Tethis walked off, side by side, their eyes glinting not with tears, but instead with purpose.
***
The Morrigan’s Kiss unfurled her sails for the first time in almost a week and a half. It was a brilliant day and the wind blew through the harbor with a whistling howl. It caught in the sails and caused them to bell outwards. Quinn stood beside the wheel as Kailey held onto it with casual confidence. Kailey swept her gaze along her deck and shook her head. It was remarkable what hard work and magic could accomplish. The deck had been reinforced and cleared of the oar-locks. Those had been converted into places to mount their guns. Each slot was filled with crystal, the cannon set in freshly carved carriages.
The only thing different from the schematics were the elevation blocks that lifted the barrels. But those were nearly invisible from a distance.
“I can’t believe Pleon let you off without gouging us more,” Thaddious said, shaking his head as he walked up to the two women. He smirked. “Did you have to negotiate with him every day? You two kept vanishing.”
“Not quite,” Kailey said, smirking.
“I can’t believe I sat on his face the whole week and he still needed to be reminded to pay attention to my clit,” Quinn muttered.
Thaddious frowned. “Do I need to be concerned?”
“No, Thaddious,” Kailey said. “But Pleon is planning to betray us.”
Thaddious blinked. Then he laughed. “Ah. Let me guess, he wants to get every gun.”
“That’s the idea. Sink us, then salvage them from the harbor,” Kailey said. “But do you know why it is a bad idea to let us near your engineer?”
Thaddious rubbed at a bit of stubble on his cheek as Kailey lifted her right arm. The crew she had spoken to earlier saw the sign. They hurried to their posts, moving quickly and without shouting.
“I can guess,” Thaddious said.
Quinn grinned.
Kailey dropped her arm.
Twenty four cannons spoke at the same time. Smoke exploded from each barrel and the carriages rocked backwards onto the deck. Roundshot smashed into the cliff-faces, striking siege works that Kailey and Quinn had, while Dimas was sleeping off sex and drink, quietly sabotaged. Gunpowder improperly protected by weakened armor went up with a roar and debris reached into the heavens.
The Morrigan’s Kiss sailed from Pleon’s harbor, leaving two pyres as a warning to the world.
Never double cross Kailey and Quinn.
Five
The Constitution chugged through the placid waters of the Platonic Sea. The air was misty with a fog that had blown off the coast, and Liam found that he was completely unable to sleep. He watched the waters smoothly sailing by while crew moved about their tasks quietly – no one seeming interested in making too much noise. Night had fallen a few short hours before, and Liam knew that he should rest. Tomorrow was another day that would require his tact and diplomacy.
Liam snorted quietly.
The voyage to Uten-Ha had been uneventful – most of Liam’s time had been spent reading missives sent via the watch stations. Meg had kept him up to date on everything that was going on in Babylon, as well as including several paragraphs that caused the goblin signals officer on the Constitution to turn the most amazing shade of dark green. Reaching the city itself had made Liam feel a dawning sense of hope.
Uten-Ha had been a thriving place. With high walls and about five cannons, it had boasted the vast statues and monuments that the Pesdjeti used to focus their god’s devotion and powers. Statues of Anubis had held aloft ever-glowing torches, while small shrines to lesser gods and spirits and ancestors had provided heat, directions, even fresh food to those who came to lay coins in their offering bowls.
But best of all had been the person who greeted Liam as he and his honor guard walked off the gangplank.
“Liam Vanderbilt!” Neb beamed at him. She looked shockingly good, considering she was six months pregnant. She still had a dainty muzzle, triangular ears, and a cutely wagging tail but now her breasts were fuller and slumped only slightly against her shift, which strained against her rounded belly. Her paw rested on that belly and she had that slightly submissive glint to her eyes, which reminded Liam of the times she had begged for him to lead her around on a leash. Liam forced those memories back and bowed low.
“Neb Maatre,” he said.
“Ah, no, it’s Neb Culhain now,” she said, wagging a single finger at him. Smiling, she whispered. “So, no more domination.”
Was there a hint of wistfulness in her voice?
Liam decided it was safer to believe that, no, no there wasn’t.
Neb and her escort – a pair of burly men wearing ornate jackal helmets and thick bronze breastplates – walked Liam through the center of Uten-Ha. Neb gave him a running narration of not only her life, but the life of her city: “This is my home city, you know. Where I came from when I was sent to Brigid’s library to learn all I could of their embalming techniques.” She chuckled, softly. “Anubis was more than happy with what I had learned. I married a scribe from Olimurias – a darling, darling man, I hope you’ll have time to meet him. He moved here, pledged himself to Anubis...”
Liam had listened.
And smiled.
And tried to not remember the way that Neb had sucked him off in the libraries of Olimurias.
The palace that Anubis dwelt in was similar, in many ways, to the palace that Liam’s government used as its headquarters. The differences, though, made it easy to remember that he wasn’t at home. For one thing, the Free Lord’s palace had been carefully made as religiously diverse as possible. Tiny shrines to all the gods that had a stake in Babylon peppered the place. Meanwhile, Anubis’ palace was bedecked with symbols and iconography of his particular cult.
Secondly, Anubis had quite a few of his Chosen about. Muscular human-jackal hybrids stood guard with ceremonial kopesh swords on their backs, while scribes so achingly similar to Neb that Liam caught himself watching their tails hurried by. The human servants were mostly in the shaved-headed Pesdjeti mode, with bronzed skin and bared chests.
Anubis himself, to Liam’s relief, didn’t meet them in a throne room or a palatial meeting hall. Instead, he was found in a library, bent over scrolls. Despite being similar, in many ways, to the furred human-jackal hybrids that made up the ranks of his Chosen, Anubis shone. His body radiated the raw power of a god. His muscles might not have bulged as intensely as his guards, but strength oozed from his lean, athletic form. His fur shone with a glossiness no mortal could mat
ch, and his eyes glowed with golden power. He was using his claw to indicate where he was reading, muttering under his breath.
“My lord?” Neb said, curtsying gently – her pregnancy didn’t make her awkward when it came to that gesture. “Lord Vanderbilt of the Free City of Babylon is here to see you?”
Anubis started and jerked his head up from the scroll. His eyes widened.
Then he beamed. “Liam Vanderbilt!” his voice boomed and echoed as he stood, his tail wagging excitedly. “As I live and breathe – I had heard you would come, but I never expected it to be so swift. So fast.” He took Liam’s hand. Liam shook and found himself immediately liking the god. It took him a few seconds to realize what it was.
But then it clicked.
It wasn’t something.
It was a lack of something. Anubis had no pretensions. He had no arrogant assumptions of authority, no blithe sureness that all mortals existed to be ordered about by him. The only thing in his eyes was an honest happiness at seeing Liam – and a measured, careful perceptiveness. Liam felt himself being weighed by those eyes. Anubis made a quiet huh sound, and said: “Well, I’d have expected to be more intimidated.”
“Why’s that?” Liam asked, grinning easily.
“Well, your title is The Godkiller,” Anubis said.
“It was mostly other people,” Liam said, cheerfully. “And the gunpowder.”
A faint creak of deck planking drew Liam from his reverie.
He turned and saw Captain Harold walking to the railing beside him. The crew had given him the distance of respect, but Harold kept up the cool, calm, slightly distant affect that most ship captains seemed to adopt as a matter of course. Liam and he looked out at the night sea for some time and Liam felt the slow, crawling fear that sometimes still stole up on him. On Purgatory, people were raised to be used to the idea that an ocean naturally reached upwards and upwards and upwards, like a great wall of water. But sometimes Liam could find his mind slipping backwards to his Earth attitudes and his brain would whisper: It’s going to fall on you. It’s all going to fall on you.
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