by Simon Archer
“Ah, duly noted, William,” she soothed. “My apologies.”
With the guidance of the chain, I found Shikun in minutes. She was standing atop the battlements of the west wall, sitting on her knees so that only her head and horns were poking above the wall. Strangely, she didn’t seem to notice me when I walked through the gates, her gaze focused hard into the distance. By the time I had mounted the interior steps and was walking down the walkway towards her, the dragon-girl finally seemed to notice my approach.
“I’m sorry, William of Upland,” she said without turning my way. “I just… I don’t feel quite comfortable being among them yet.” Her fiery wings twitched a little. “I know they are accepting but… I did hurt them all very badly.”
I didn’t answer with words. I simply hooked my hand under her nearest armpit and began to tug her up. She got the idea really quickly and stood up. Good, because I doubt I could have hauled her up one-handed if she didn’t want it. As soon as Shikun was standing, I then took her by both shoulders and turned her to face me dead on.
“Uh, William, what exactly are you doing?” she asked, a quizzical look on her face that cut through her melancholy. Her furrowing brow made her horns rise adorably, her golden eyes shifting from side to side. “Did I… Did I insult anyone by my absence? Was Petra mad…?”
“Stop.”
“But I--”
“Stop,” I repeated. “S, T, O, P.” My straight face resolved into a grin. “You’re still kicking yourself over everything you’ve done, and I get that, but…”
Suddenly, Shikun’s cheeks flushed as she tried to avoid my direct gaze but not so hard as to slip out of my grip. Wait, she wasn’t worried about the townsfolk, not really.
“You’re not kicking yourself.” I arched a curious eyebrow. “Are you?” I smiled a bit as realization struck home. “This is about when I kissed you.”
“Well, I… well…” The draconian Amazon that could throw boulders around like playthings and burn down a forest with a puff of breath was seriously embarrassed by one kiss, and it was absolutely endearing. “I simply didn’t want to create any, well, tension with you and Petra until she had officially invited me to, uh, your, uh…”
I smiled and squeezed her shoulders warmly. “Well, I don’t know all the rules with how Etrians do things, and the last thing I’d want is for you to be uncomfortable. All I’m going to say is that regardless of anything else, you’re part of our family now, and maybe… if you want it… we can be something more.”
My eyes passed appreciatively over her body and settled back on her eyes once more. “I know Petra cares about you, and so do I. You’re strong, beautiful, fierce, and you stood side-by-side with me against certain death down in the Weaver’s lair.” I raised a finger. “But that doesn’t mean a hill of beans if you don’t want to take it further, so--”
I didn’t get a chance to finish because I had a tearful dragon-girl throwing herself at me, arms sweeping me up in a crushing hug as she kissed me deeply. After the initial surprise passed, I was more than happy to pull myself into that kiss, savoring the taste of her for a good long moment before she finally pulled away.
Shikun sniffled once, happy tears running down her blushing cheeks. “Yes! I want it! I want all of it! I want love and happiness and family and freedom and kisses and…” Her chest heaved delightfully as she tried to catch her breath. “And most of all, I want you.”
I smiled brightly at that as I pulled her close once more. “Your wish is my command,” I murmured before I went in for another kiss.
28
Khaba va’Khem
I sat on my skull-carved obsidian throne, itself mounted atop the ziggurat dedicated to Via and Nethum, the goddesses of life and death, and brooded over my grand work, the Necropolis of Khem. Always expanding, ever under construction, the vast city of marble and sandstone swept out over the blasted valley of Mortanna, endless mausoleums and crypts to house the undead built into every space and crevice. The only safe place for the living, my slaves and beloved harem, was below me in the ziggurat. Meanwhile, my risen workers and soldiers chipped away at the mountains that rose like vultures around Khem every day, and in time, Khem would cover every space of Etria…
That was assuming that William Tyler died as he was supposed to.
As did all Brand-wielders, I felt the chain that tied me to sweet Amalthea snap the moment Libritas turned the sphinx. It was… a minor sting, an annoying prick in my side… much like the Uplander whose death I contemplated. I snapped my fingers and summoned the charm of Mada’s All-Seeing Eye and focused on the would-be hero. He was standing now atop the little wooden walls of that pathetic little village. I clenched my linen-wrapped fingers slowly into a fist, commanding the Eye to focus in on the blond-haired boy as he leaned in to kiss the Weaver’s draconian. Only once I began to look closer, a flash of gold and silver severed the enchantment, and the backlash of mystical energy sparked my fingertips ablaze.
With an arched eyebrow, I held out my hand to watch the shriveled flesh burn ever so slowly.
“Our sister is growing bold,” the sensual voice of Via, the Avatar of Life, cooed from my side a moment before her delicate elfin face leaned into view to blow out the fire on my fingers. Her silver skin shone as brightly in her Avatar form as it did in her Brand form, her spiky hair scarlet like blood as she pulled her small form up on the arm of my throne. “One could even call it… cheeky.”
“Her impertinence annoys our love,” Nethum added, her hollow voice worthy of her status as the Avatar of Death. The tall woman’s skin was as black as midnight, eating light as her power fed on life itself, and her hair fell like an oily waterfall down her back. “We should turn all of Solanna into a deathland. Wipe out all life and raise the dead as your minions, great Lord Khaba.”
With that pronouncement, Nethum slid herself onto the other arm of my throne, and both Avatars, both of my dear, sweet Brands, nuzzled against my wrapped chest. They felt no fear or disgust at my corpse-like state, and if I had any capacity for warmth in my blackened, shriveled remnant of a heart, it would have warmed to have them near. I slid an arm around each of them and pulled them closer.
Via shimmied against me with delight as she turned her burning red eyes up to me. “Great Khaba, he whose hand spreads across Etria like a dark plague, what is it you would bid us and your mighty harem to do about this little man and his little stick?”
“Nothing,” was my simple reply, my deep voice resonating with absolute authority.
The fae-like Avatar blinked in confusion as her sister turned her blank obsidian eyes towards me. “My great king, you cannot mean--”
My eyes blazed with my eldritch power, silencing Nethum and Via both immediately. “I mean what I say. You may be thought of as goddesses, but to me, you are but my Brands, slaves alongside all you have marked in my name. Know your place.”
My word was law, and this my lovely Avatars knew. They grew silent, almost petulant, and so, in my infinite mercy, I decided to quench their curiosity. They might be my slaves, but, in my own strange way, I cared for them and, more so, their immense power.
“Now, now, my loves,” I intoned as I let my hands drift over their bodies, along their sides, between their thighs. “Know that when I say we do nothing, I mean only for the moment. You have seen what this Uplander has done in so short a time. He has taken two of my beloved women from me, stolen another from my,” I snorted a laugh, “‘my favorite apprentice,’ then slain two of our order. They may have been weaklings and fools, but to throw more of my own beloved women at him, women that this upstart ‘hero’ could steal from me, would be foolish.”
“Oh!” Via chirped as her eyes lit up once more. “So, in your great and infinite wisdom, you will watch, wait, and prepare to crush this bug?”
“Indeed, my dear.” I let out a dark chuckle. “Why would I waste your power or my women when I have so many more of my colleagues I can send forth? In time, this… William Tyler’s weaknesses will b
e laid bare, his strength worn down, and when he is ready to be broken, I will be there to snap his neck and raise his corpse to be my puppet.”
Nethum grimly smiled. “And in the process, the weakness and complacency among the Black Runes will be weeded out like the cancers they are.” She nodded slowly. “Indeed, your genius knows no bounds, my love.”
That was enough for my two Brands, and as they leaned against my undead form to drink in my coldness, I smiled for their benefit. In truth, worry sat like a worm in the core of my thoughts as I gazed out over my city of the damned.
My plan should work, should crush William Tyler and his foolish allies like the bugs they were… but there was a chance… a chance that he would not only persevere but grow stronger. If he did…
Well, if he did, I would have to deal with him… personally.
A Note from the Author
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