by Cebelius
"Nope," he said. "This is my next life. I'm too busy living it to worry about what comes after."
"Good!" Euryale said, catching his cheek in one brazen claw and pulling him down for a kiss. "Let's go back. I'm the only one Baba would send because, well, I'm unkillable. She wouldn't risk any of your other women."
He nodded, and the two of them headed for the door. The horse-headed woman from earlier stood there, and as Terry approached she bowed, her hands folded in front of her as she said, "I owe you my life, and so with my life I will pay. Lifelong service."
"No," Terry said, not even having to think about his answer. "If you want to thank me, help any of these women freed with you that need it. Then forget this place, and all that happened here. Find whatever happiness you can, and hold on tight."
She straightened, her large, dark eyes boring into his as though searching for the truth. At length she turned and strode out of the hall without another word. Terry watched her go.
"That was trimly done," Euryale said. "You are getting comfortable with command, Master."
"What else was I going to tell her?" he asked. "I don't want her service, but giving her these others to look after will let her feel like she's paying me back. I don't want her following me around hoping I'll change my mind."
"As I said. Trimly done."
They waited a few minutes to give the prisoners time to get further away from the castle. Euryale spent that time wrapped around Terry, who kept his own arm around her shoulders. She seemed to want nothing more than to be near him, and after the last few days he was content with just that much as well.
Eventually though, he bent, kissed her head lightly, and murmured, "Let's go."
Beyond the castle walls, Terry was startled, but upon reflection not surprised, to see that the Carnival of the Soul was gone. Rolling grasslands extended unbroken and unmarred by traces of any habitation for as far as the eye could see. The sun and the moon were both out. The moon all but eclipsed the sun, and both of them seemed to be setting in the west. The light thus cast was a strange sort of twilight, but it seemed peaceful somehow, as though the heavens were in agreement that it was time to move on.
There was a ravine fronting the castle, and a narrow stone bridge across it. When he and Euryale reached the far end, he noticed and picked up a stuffed doll that sat upon the low wall, along with a note written in a looping cursive script.
The doll was a cartoon-like caricature of the headless monster Terry had dealt with in the sex tent, and the note said:
May you never want for succor,
or a lover for your bed,
And may Cephas see you to your rest,
before my husband knows you're dead!
It wasn't signed. Terry smiled, carefully folded the paper, and tucked it into his pocket as Euryale took the doll from him, head tilted as she looked at it in curiosity and said, "A blemmyes? I don't get it."
"What's a blemmyes?" Terry asked. Euryale held up the doll and said, "A race of headless folk. They were already rare when I was still on Earth. This is a really weird doll."
"It's topical. I'll tell you about it later. For now, hold out your arm."
Terry accessed Koschei's memories for what he wanted. Having had Prada in his head for so long, he had little trouble isolating Koschei's remnant and getting what he wanted. Once he had it, he thrust Asturial's blade into the dirt beyond the bridge, then extended the claw of his right index finger and made a shallow cut in the meat of his left palm. He used the blood to inscribe the word 'Celestine' on Euryale's forearm. He did the same on his own, then retrieved the sword as he spoke in careful English.
"By the power of the blood I have spent, pass the marked through the veil between this world and the last."
The bloody words he had written flared, briefly blinding Terry, but he was ready and waited patiently. As his sight returned, he saw that it was dark, and there was no trace of the castle. There were a few high, wispy clouds and the stars were out, but the moon was not.
"Where are we?" Euryale asked, her snakes flaring out to look in all directions. Then she said, "Oh! Master! You can cross out of the Wildervast on your own?"
He answered absently as he looked around. "Yeah. I pretty much know how ritual magic works now."
"How did that happen?"
"Koschei."
Euryale turned to look at him, and her slitted blue eyes were lit with concern. "Master ... are you okay?"
"Better now that we're back in the real world."
As he spoke, Terry deepened the cut on his palm and closed his fist, tightening it and forcing the blood to flow as he let it drip into a rough circle around both himself and Euryale. She watched him in silence, but it was obvious she was still worried.
Once the circle was complete, he said, "By the power of the blood I have spent, let my mark become a guide for Isthil Corrigan."
The blood flared and dissipated, but Terry knew the spell succeeded. "Isthil will be here at some point. She'll take us back to the carnival."
"We left the carnival," Euryale said. "There was some trouble after they found out what you are."
"Figures. Still, she'll know where we need to go."
Terry set Asturial's sword to one side and sat. Euryale folded herself down onto her knees next to him, and wrapped one of her wings around his back as she leaned into his shoulder.
He slipped an arm around her hip and when one of her snakes curled to look inquisitively at him, he kissed its snout absently and said, "I'm fine, love. Just tired."
"I don't think I believe you, Master," she said. "I think killing Koschei did something to you."
"It did, but everything has a price. I paid it, that's all."
She squeezed him with her wing and both arms as she said, "Don't worry, Master. You get used to it."
He shut his eyes as he thought, That's what I'm afraid of.
The two of them sat in companionable silence. A light breeze blew, and it sighed through the grass. The smell in the air was clean and light, reminding Terry again just how pristine this world was. The stars twinkled high up, and he leaned back on one hand, his other remaining around Euryale as she turned into him and snuggled. Her head lay in the crook of his shoulder and she wrapped most of her snakes around his neck. They draped across his chest and over his other shoulder and he took comfort from her warmth and nearness.
"I hope she takes her time," Euryale said. "I like this. Being here with you, just the two of us."
"Me too."
"I will always love you, Master. No matter what."
He smiled softly, searching the stars as his thoughts drifted. "I love you too, Euryale. I'm glad you came to help me."
"Always. Always. Always."
Again, she squeezed, and he tilted his head to rest it on hers as they waited together.
Isthil galloped into sight about fifteen minutes later, and stopped in front of them, front hoof stamping as she looked down at Euryale and Terry, neither of whom had gotten up.
"How is everyone?" he asked.
"Only waitin' because I refused to carry the lot of 'em out here t'meet ye."
She smiled, adding, "You two look comfortable."
Terry grinned, shifted to slide his free hand under Euryale's knees, and hoisted her up into a princess carry as he stood. She squeaked and wrapped her other arm around his shoulder, her snakes writhing as they uncoiled from his neck.
"How far are we from the others?" he asked.
Glancing back over her shoulder, the Nightmare drawled, "About ... eighty miles, give or take."
"And you got here in fifteen minutes? Holy shit!"
"I got here in five. Took me ten to convince the rest I wasna gonna carry them here just so I could haul extra weight back."
Terry shook his head, chuckling as he asked, "Well, can you carry the two of us?"
Isthil folded her arms and tilted her head as she said, "I offered once, and you said you didna ken how to ride."
"Still don't, but
I promise I'll do my very best not to fall off," he said with a wry grin. "If it were only twenty miles or so, I'd just run it myself, but making everyone wait for me to do eighty is a bit much."
"You think you could even run that far?" Isthil asked.
"I could do it in a day and a half with a full eight hours sleep in the middle."
Isthil looked him up and down, and he could see the skepticism in her eyes. He said, "The record for a human running a hundred miles is eleven and a half hours. I couldn't do that; I'd drop dead before I even came close. I'm not built for long distance, but forty miles a day? Sure. Easy. There are old stories about Roman Legions doing eighty miles a day wearing armor and carrying a full kit, and I don't have to carry anything. Well, this sword I suppose. I'd probably break it up into a sixty-mile day and a twenty-mile morning."
When she still looked skeptical, he gave up and rolled his eyes. Some things just weren't worth the aggravation. "You got me. I'm full of shit. I can do fuckin' magic. I'd just enchant my legs."
That apparently satisfied her, and she said, "Well, in any case, I kin certainly get ye back safe to the wagon."
Truth is stranger than fiction, I guess, he thought wryly to himself.
As Isthil turned to offer her right stirrup, Terry noticed Euryale looking at him with an expression that said she knew full well that he hadn't been lying, but he put a finger to his lips and winked at her.
"You're silly," she said with a low chuckle, and let it go at that.
Euryale rode behind him, and Terry managed to stay in the saddle as Isthil took off.
The ride was smoother than he'd thought possible, but he very quickly found that Isthil wasn't playing by normal rules when he realized that he couldn't feel the wind of her passing, and the landscape was literally blurring by.
If she'd been dubious about his assertions of human endurance, he was forced to concede any doubts of her own claims when she slowed to a walk a bare five minutes later in front of a familiar wagon.
"Thanks Isthil," he said as Euryale slid down, and he clumsily followed, sinking Asturial's blade upright into the loamy earth for balance as he dismounted, then letting it go. "I owe you one."
"I'll remember ye said that," she said with a grin and a toss of her mystically floating silver hair.
In the next instant, he was engulfed in feminine affection.
Halla's affection to be precise. She shamelessly monopolized him, scooping him up and growing to her full height of thirteen feet as she pressed him between her breasts and yelled, "Welcome back, Boss!"
It wasn't quite as bad as being a mouse buried in the Hellequin's cleavage, but it was certainly enough to remind him of the experience, and he was once again forced to admit that he didn't hate it. If he admitted any more than that he'd probably wind up with a new fetish.
"Hey Halla, thanks. Good to see you too. Can I ask a question right quick?"
"Sure, what?" she asked, tilting her head back a bit to look down at him with a wide grin that showed off her tusks.
"How come you aren't wearing a shirt?"
"Isn't it obvious? Cause I wanted to squeeze you between my tits." Her grin widened even more as she added, "Hint hint."
Terry started laughing helplessly as he said, "Oookay, back to my size, give me a proper kiss, and let the rest have me for now before this turns into a fight."
She winked at him — something she seemed to love doing — shrank back down, then kissed him rather chastely before she let him go.
Laina was next. She bent at the hip and laid her arms across his shoulders, looking deeply into his eyes as she very deliberately said, "Husband."
His bemused grin turned into a gentle smile as he lifted a hand to touch the gold band around her horn, then lowered it to her cheek and murmured, "Wife," before kissing her. She kept her lips closed, but sighed happily, then said, "I missed you, Boss. I'm glad you're back safe."
"Me too, hon. Me too."
Shy embraced him as Laina stepped back, and he closed his eyes as he wrapped her up, holding her tight as the feel of their bond radiated her love and relief through him, and his through her.
'I love you, Terry Mack,' she said within his mind.
And I you.
'Mila looks a bit like Vlad now. Get used to the idea, and do NOT look shocked when you see her. She's on the far side of the wagon, hiding. She needs your validation. Desperately.'
He nodded, eyes still closed, and sent his gratitude to her in a wave of emotion.
Asturial greeted him next as Shy slipped to one side. She came to stand in front of him, and her face held a mixture of emotion. She clearly didn't know what to do, so he stepped in and wrapped her up, kissing her cheek as he murmured, "Asturial."
"Terrence."
He felt her shiver, and then she cautiously wrapped her arms around him as she murmured, "Why? Didn't you trust me?"
"Of course I trust you."
"Then why?"
He smiled and kissed her other cheek, then her lips before murmuring against them, "I couldn't let Baba Yaga go first ... and to be honest, there was no way I was going to get hard if I had to start with her."
Her eyes widened, and she tilted her head slightly as she asked with more than a trace of incredulity, "You ... used me as an erotic aid to congress with another woman?"
He struggled to contain his grin as she stared at him in disbelief, and said, "Well, you're sexy."
"I ... Terrence, I honestly can't decide if I should crush you for that or not," she stammered.
"I vote not," he said immediately, all traces of his smile vanishing as he added, "I honestly couldn't have let her go first anyway. I saw the look on your face while I took Sphinx. There was no way I could do that to you twice. Not after all you've done for me."
Her eyes narrowed, and she tilted her head a bit as she said, "That was foolish. What if you'd needed my help to deal with Koschei?"
"Didn't even occur to me. Given a choice I could never have put Baba Yaga before you."
Her lips compressed and she practically shoved him back as she said, "I should slap you for being sentimental to the point of rank stupidity."
He spread his hands, offering no defense as he asked, "But you won't?"
She studied him, then shook her head, her expression of annoyance fading into one of bemused resignation. "But I won't."
She hesitated, then tipped a meaningful finger at him as she added in a dire tone, "This time."
Then she jerked her thumb over her shoulder at the wagon and stepped silently aside.
Terry nodded and walked to the back corner. He'd seen Mila's lower half as he approached, standing just beyond the wheel, and he leaned on the tailgate, not yet rounding the corner as he asked, "You nervous?"
"Yes."
He didn't get much from her inflection, and said, "I won't lie. I might be shocked."
He could see her profile, but she had her hood up and there wasn't much to see. She'd gained a few inches, and was now his height. She was broader, and her sleeves were gone, but it was too dark for him to see much else.
"If this is your idea of making this easier for me, it is not working," she said. "If you want me to go, just say so. After what happened, and what I ... and the change, I could not blame you."
"Are you ashamed of what you are?" he asked.
For a long moment, she was silent. Then Mila said, "No, Terry. I am not ashamed."
"Do you want to stay?"
"You know I do."
"Then come here. Take your hood down, and look me in the eye."
She leaned away from the wagon, stepped wide of him, then turned to face him from just beyond his reach. She looked into his eyes as he took her in. Her teeth now had an almost unnatural perfection to them, and the sabers gave her a subtle aura of menace that she hadn't had before.
Her body was obviously thicker, her muscle more defined. He noticed the black hair beginning to poke through the fur on her head, and found himself looking forward to seeing what
she'd do with it. He glanced down at her chest, noted the way her robes now revealed what they had once hidden, given their new tightness.
His eyes found hers, and he smiled as he said, "You're beautiful. Sexy in a scary kind of way. I like it."
He grinned as her eyes widened slightly, and he added, "Hope you don't mind, but I'm going to go ahead and rule out head from you anytime soon."
"Head?"
"Oral sex."
She blinked, then chuckled throatily as she said, "That is fair. As you may imagine, such acts have certain definite connotations among my kind, and they are far from safe. It may be too late to say this, but it is not possible to lie to a Rakshasa. I know that you are telling me the truth. I am satisfied. I will stay."
"I hoped you would."
He held out a hand to her. She took it without hesitation, though he could tell she had to twist her own hand over to fit with his. He drew her in, wrapped his free arm around her hip, and set his forehead against hers.
Her arm wound around his side and up, cupping his shoulder as she held him close.
"I am no monster," she said quietly.
"We are all monsters here," he murmured. "It isn't something I hold against anyone anymore."
"Even you?"
"Especially me."
She pressed her lips gently to his, and he felt her sabers bracket their slow kiss. Then she asked, "What happened?"
"I hunted down a man and took his life. I did it knowingly, through deception. It clarified things for me, and I know I'm going to do it again if I can. I've killed before, but this was different. I can never go back now."
"For revenge?"
"Yes, but not my own. It was one of Baba Yaga's conditions."
Mila nodded, and tightened her hold on him a bit as she said, "You have taken on the burdens of others, ever since I have known you. I do not have the words to comfort you, but I feel my brother does. Yuri, I know you have heard what we said. Come out, and explain the lessons our uncle once passed on to you."
She tilted her head back a bit, then let him go and backed away as Yuri vaulted the tailgate of the wagon.
