Carnival of the Soul

by Cebelius

  "Who were Boris and Pyotr?" Shy asked, trying to ignore the screaming as best she could, dreading the answer she knew would come.

  "Our older brothers. After my uncle's sons and daughter died taking Vlad's challenges, they accepted before me. Mila is my only surviving family ... because I would not accept my fate."

  Shy shut her eyes, folded her knees underneath her, and gently reached out to take Yuri in her arms.

  He sagged into her and trembled, but did not weep.

  The only thing dripping down his face was blood.

  Shy wanted more than anything to tell Yuri that Tee would never accept that, that he wouldn't allow Yuri's people to get involved.

  But she said nothing. She wanted them involved. Tee needed an army. When he argued against it, Shy would convince him to accept Yuri's help, and that of his people.

  So Shy said nothing. Instead, she held Yuri close, offering what little comfort she dared as she cried the tears he would not shed.

  She would not keep his people from the war they would face, but she would weep for them.

  The screaming had stopped, but neither moved when they heard the sound of a lone horse galloping away.

  33

  Oni for You

  When he woke, Terry at first thought that he was dreaming. He was in a yurt.

  As his mind caught up with his perception, he realized it wasn't the yurt back at the carnival. For one, there was almost nothing inside with him. No curtains hung to segment the space, and it was lit by a fire that hung suspended in the air about five feet off the ground in the center of the largely empty room, burning unsupported and without any apparent fuel.

  Prada cushioned his body in a way that made it feel like he was in a beanbag chair, only better in pretty much every conceivable sense. Aside from the sanguine devil, the only other person inside with him was Shy, and she smiled gently at him as she noticed him awake.

  "How are things?" he asked, automatically trying to get up. Prada foiled him, but before he could even glance back in annoyance, Shy drew his attention to her as she said, "'Things,' will keep for now. No one is trying to kill us or steal you away."

  "Am I in trouble?" he dubiously asked, and Shy smiled.

  "You have a harem, Tee. It's a good bet that you'll always be in trouble with someone. That's ... part of the reason it's just the three of us right now. We need to talk."

  "Tell me what I need to know," Terry said, resigning himself to the fact that if Prada didn't want him to get up, he simply wasn't going to.

  Prada's thoughts were smug. 'What can I say? I like having you on top.'

  He rolled his eyes and concentrated on Shy as she said, "Several of your women have come to me with their concerns and desires over the course of the last few days, and I find myself in the position of being your ... hmm, what would be a good word. Consigliere?"

  He laughed and said, "No, not that. We aren't the mob. Secretary?"

  Shy's eyebrow twitched, and she matched his inflection with a wry note added in as she said, "No, not that. Regardless of what one calls it, I am apparently to be relied upon in matters concerning you. I want this to be understood, and to have your explicit consent to continue in that role."

  "Consent to what?" he asked.

  "To deal with your domestic affairs."

  At his bemused look, Shy began ticking fingers as she said, "You have me, Laina, Euryale, Prada, Halla, Mila, Asturial, Baba Yaga, and potentially Isthil to look after, not to mention Cecaelia — who will doubtless claim some of your time at random — and Sphinx, should she ever decide to stake any more of a claim than she already has."

  Shy doesn't even know about Kalty ... though I doubt she'll show up again, Terry mused.

  Aloud he said, "Yeah, I get it. I've got complications."

  "That's putting it mildly," Shy replied. "So? Would you rather I just send everyone with a problem straight to you, or handle what I can on my own?"

  He lifted a hand in a mockery of a benediction as he said, "From my lips to God's ears. Please, handle what you can, which includes — I hope — keeping me from putting my foot in my mouth."

  Shy opened her mouth to answer but Prada beat her to it as she gleefully interjected, "If past experience is a guide, she'll spend so much time doing that she'll have to delegate the rest of the job to someone else."

  "Ha ha. In any case, yes, please, by all means."

  Shy came and knelt next to Prada, folding her hands in her lap as she said, "Thank you. Having your explicit authority will make this more comfortable for me. That done, there are some things that require your attention. First and foremost, you should know the fate of the village."

  Terry listened as Shy filled him in. She did not mince words, nor did she hold anything back when it came to the revelation of Yuri's lost siblings, and that he had withheld a part of the prophecy given to him as a child. When the dryad finished, he asked, "People take that sort of shit seriously around here, don't they?"

  Prada answered, and there was no humor in her voice. "It's not shit around here, Husband. Do not mistake Vlad the Dreamer for a buff Miss Cleo. The spirits are attuned to the flow of time. Shamans and oracles can ask them for and receive reliable prophecies, particularly for times and places that are close. While no one can infallibly predict the future, interactions we would see as hopelessly complex are impossibly simple to certain gods and their servants."

  "Will Mila forgive him?"

  "I don't know," Shy admitted. "We have only traveled together a short time. Her love for him seemed unshakable, but this ... I simply do not know. I hope so."

  "Should I talk to her?"

  "If you do, let her lead," Shy suggested. "Ask if she wants to talk, and if she doesn't, don't press her. The wound is fresh, and she may need time more than anything."

  "Spoken like someone who has a lot of time," Terry grumbled.

  Shy shrugged, then sighed. "There is that. Now that Stheno has been subdued, there is no telling what Thomas will do next."

  "I don't care what Thomas does next. I already have my next destination in mind."

  "Oh?"

  Terry nodded. "It's a place called Svartheim. A dungeon in the mountains west of here. There's a sword there that I need if I'm going to win this thing."

  As he spoke, he felt Prada poking around in his memories and made the conscious decision to lock down what he knew of the sword. Koschei's knowledge gave him what he needed to wall away the knowledge, and he did so according to a gut instinct.

  "Husband?" Prada spoke aloud — Terry knew — to enlist Shy to help pressure him, "What are you hiding about this sword?"

  "What I'm hiding isn't relevant. What is relevant is that this sword can kill Thomas. No matter what. Nothing he does can stop it, and I have to have it. That's all you need to know."

  He watched as Shy glanced at the ruby blob underneath him, then back at him, her luminous eyes searching his.

  "You have to trust me on this," he said. "Please."

  She nodded.

  "Very well, Tee. I will not pry, other than to ask where you got this information?"

  He shook his head. "Sorry. I've said all I'm going to. My next stop is Svartheim."

  Without pausing to give them time to press him further, he shifted gears and said, "So, Mila and Yuri are on the outs. What else?"

  Shy blinked, then seemed to find her focus and smiled as she said, "The rest of the news is good. Euryale petrified the loup-garou that came to warn us, but freed her again after the battle was over. She wants to see you."

  "Later. What else?"

  "I've promised not to share your bed again until after you've tended to Halla." Shy's smile turned into a grin as she added, "She really, really misses you, and doesn't want anyone but you."

  "I can do that."

  "You mean her?" Prada asked with a sly undertone. "Are you going to resume the size of a giant or shall I boost you again?"

  "You can certainly be our bed, but I think I've got an idea that wil
l make her happy without your interference. Passing out during sex isn't exactly something I want to do on the regular."

  He paused as a thought occurred to him, and he glanced around as he said, "How come I'm not giant-sized now?"

  "I am sapping your size. It's one of the reasons I didn't let you up earlier," Prada said. "It would be easier on me if you simply transfer the gift again. As it is I am having to constantly interfere."

  Terry immediately cast the spell that granted his giant size to Prada and she sighed, both inside his mind and out. She also grew noticeably, flowing around Shy and picking the dryad up off the ground. She squeaked as she was practically tossed over next to Terry, who wrapped an arm around her and grinned.

  "Thank you, Husband. Now I can actually relax."

  "Mmm, I wish I could," Shy murmured, leaning over Terry and kissing him fondly. "Alas, I have a promise to keep. Halla is outside waiting. Once you are done with her, you can see to the rest of us."

  "The ... rest?"

  "Of course. Do you think any of us really want to wait? Euryale and Laina are both cranky enough as it is, and being the only one not throwing a tantrum at being neglected doesn't mean I like it. Then there's Asturial, who has 'catching up to do' as she put it."

  Shy laughed throatily as she saw the look of mild panic on Terry's face and said, "Relax, lover. You'll do fine."

  "I've never um ... tried to keep more than two girls happy at once," he said. "Sure you can't just ... I dunno, take turns?"

  "We could," Shy conceded.

  She paused a moment before she arched an eyebrow at him and gave him a sultry, almost predatory smile.

  "But we won't."

  With that she rolled away from him, stood, and strode out the door without a word or a backward glance.

  "I'm in for it now," Terry murmured.

  "Mmm, I can hardly wait," Prada purred. "I look forward to sampling all that you have to offer me tonight, Husband."

  "So greedy."

  "I'm a capitalist. Sue me."

  "Do what now?" he asked, laughing despite himself.

  "'Greed is good.'"

  That made him laugh harder, and he was still laughing when Halla strode in and came straight for him. She was already naked, and the look in her luminous golden eyes told him she was here to play.

  Prada stood him on his feet, and Halla matched his size just before she wrapped him up and squeezed. She put her nose against his neck and inhaled deeply, then sighed in satisfaction as she groped his ass and said, "I hope you're ready for this, Boss. I'm gonna fuck your brains out."

  "Hah! You can try," Terry teased, squeezing her ass in turn. He lifted her, his elbows hooking under her thighs, and he turned and dropped the two of them onto Prada, who ballooned out around them but kept them from hitting the ground.

  Halla's predatory expression turned a bit nervous as she realized she was surrounded by the sanguine devil, and Terry gently said, "It's okay. She's been with us every time."

  "I know but, um ... can this one be just you?"

  He nodded. "Yeah. This'll be just me. She'll just keep us comfortable. You okay with that?"

  "I guess. Um ... damn, she's the one that made you so big, wasn't she."

  "Well, you made me big, but that first time yeah, she helped me satisfy you."

  At her disappointed look, he grinned and said, "You really like it when it's really big, don't you."

  "Yeah ... I can't help it. It's what I want. But I don't want ... her."

  "I can be as big for you as you want me to be," he said as he leaned up, setting his hands on her shoulders as he lowered his head to kiss her breasts, first one, then the other."

  "You gonna use magic?" she asked, sounding dubious.

  "Nope."

  He didn't elaborate, and she squirmed underneath him and pouted a bit as she reached for his already semi-hard shaft and stroked him to a full stand.

  "I swear, every single one of you guys likes to tease me," she muttered.

  Her hips were rotating under his as she looked up at him, offering him a small smile as her hands worked. "At least with you, I can trust."

  "Just with me?" he asked as he shifted down, split his knees over one of her thighs and lifted her other leg, splaying her wide as he set himself against her.

  "Yeah," she huffed, face twisting with pleasure as he pressed himself against, then into her. "Cause you're ... the Boss! Oooh fuck yeah."

  She grinned up at him and curled her arms over his shoulders as he leaned over her, keeping her left leg crooked up as he shifted his hips against hers. He leaned down, kissed her lightly, and said, "Now, if you want me bigger and you don't want Prada helping, all you have to do is ... be smaller."

  Halla blinked at him, then her eyes widened and she laughed in disbelief.

  "Why didn't I think of that?" she asked. "It's so fuckin' simple!"

  He grinned and kissed her lightly as he said, "I've had to change the way I think about things a lot lately."

  Prada internally mused, 'It's an entirely new field of sex theory. We could call it ... 'Coital Relativity.' Einstein would be so proud of you, Husband.'

  Terry had to struggle not to burst out laughing and almost lost his composure a second time as Prada put the famous image of Einstein with his tongue out in his mind's eye.

  The amusement was literally squeezed out of him in the next moment as Halla brought his attention back to her.

  Her grin of pleased realization had turned sly as she shifted a bit, and he felt her shrink, tightening around him as her head slid down and her eyes rolled back in her head. She curled up to him, clutching at his back as she moaned.

  She was about a foot shorter than he was now, and as he tilted his head down to look at her, she shrank further. Terry grunted and shivered as her leg slipped out of his grasp and he supported himself in what was essentially a pushup as she writhed underneath him.

  Her sex was so tight around him that he didn't know if he could even move inside her, but La was hunching against him, clutching at him as she moaned, "So full ... Ooh fuck Boss, don't move! If you do, you'll stab me in the heart!"

  Wincing at the intense pressure around his shaft, his voice laced with tension, he asked, "You ever hear the phrase, 'Too much of a good thing?'"

  "N-no? Aaugh! Don't move! ... Who would say someTHinng ... stupid like that?" she grunted, and he felt her squeezing deliberately around him.

  Maybe telling her about this wasn't the best idea I've had.

  'Moderation is certainly not a word she knows,' Prada mentally agreed.

  Pot? Kettle's calling. It's for you, Terry thought dryly as he held himself very still while Halla clung to him, holding herself almost completely off Prada as she wriggled her hips, far too tight around him now for there to be any room at all for real movement.

  The feeling he got from Prada was wry, but after a moment she thought, 'I guess I had that one coming.'

  Yeah, kinda.

  Rather than simply hold himself still while she impaled herself from underneath, Terry wrapped an arm around Halla's back and turned, putting her on top. She moaned as her weight settled, and she grew almost large enough to match him again before laying on his chest, panting.

  "Fuck ... that was so ... SOOO good," she gasped.

  "Did you cum?" Terry asked, quirking an eyebrow as he looked curiously down at her.

  She grinned up at him, showing off her tusks as her golden eyes glimmered, unfocused.

  "Twice. Once when I locked you in ... and once, when you rolled over. Fuck, I need a break."

  He laughed at that, and wrapped an arm around her shoulder as he set himself and began to stroke.

  "Break, a break!" Halla squealed, wrapping her arms around him in a near panic.

  "That means stop!"

  "Uh huh. I know what it means. Say it again and I'll stop," Terry said as he landed a hard slap on her ass, which tensed against his palm, then relaxed as she shifted her knees further up his sides and buried her head in
his neck, gasping quietly.

  "I'd never tell you twice, Boss," she whimpered.

  He slowed, then stopped and ran his hand through the bright-red peach fuzz of hair she had coming in. He sighed as he reined in his more primal instincts. "Sorry, La. I'll let you catch your breath."

  "You don't ... have to."

  "I know. Tell me when you're okay."

  She peeked up at him, and her size increased a bit more until she was just a little bigger than he was. She looked down at him with a curious expression, then asked, "Boss, how come you're so nice to me?"

  "What do you mean?"

  "Well, everyone else is waiting. But you let me have you all to myself. You give me what I want, do what I ask ... I'm just, really not sure what to think. You're the Boss. You don't have to be so nice."

  Terry rubbed her head, enjoying the feel of her soft fuzz of hair, and she tilted her head toward his hand. Her golden eyes never left his though, and she obviously needed an answer.

  "La, you might not understand this, but it'd be pretty much impossible for me to be deliberately mean to you. I would hate myself if I hurt you, even accidentally."

  "Why? I don't get it. I'm just a girl. You don't have nearly as many as Theseus, but you've got plenty and you can always get more. So why? Why me? I gave up! I'm no good. I'm nothing special."

  "At first, it was just because you didn't make me kill you. I don't like killing, La."

  "Yes you do. I saw it in your eyes, but that's not what I'm asking. I gave up because I didn't want to die. That's no good reason to make me your woman. Sure, in the moment, okay. I get that. But we're out of the Labyrinth now. You don't have to pretend anymore if you ... don't want to."

  He squirmed a bit and sighed. She had him pinned and as he shifted so did she, grinding her hips harder into his. All the while she waited. He thought a moment, then shrugged and said, "You seemed like you could be a good, happy woman if given the chance. I happened to have a chance in my pocket. I figured I'd give it to you and see what you made of it."

  She tilted her head, looking down at him for a long moment before she lifted herself up and set her hands on his chest. Her eyes narrowed suspiciously, then she declared, "I think you're full of shit."