by Clayton Wood
Dominus knew all-too-well what a true Legend could do.
An avid reader, particularly of history, Dominus had learned of Legends in the past, both human and otherwise, who had risen throughout the ages. Transforming everything and everyone around them, they were like a plague, bringing destruction wherever they went. No one could remain themselves around them for long.
The histories told of Ganitar, a bull who’d been born to a poor farmer many kilometers from the kingdom centuries ago. It’d transformed its own mother, and every cow in its stable…and the farmers…into itself. The grass it slept on, the animals it drew near. Everything became Ganitar. The surrounding towns had no idea until it was too late, countless bulls stampeding through the land, eating everything in sight. An entire year’s worth of crops was destroyed, and no one knew which one of the bulls was Ganitar, as they all looked the same. No one knew which bull to kill.
The kingdom of Tykus had acted, slaughtering every cow outside of its borders, using archers to shoot them from afar. Not a single cow remained after they were done, and their bodies were heaped in a pit, then buried. No one would dare eat their meat, for fear of it being Ganitar…and becoming the Legend reborn.
To think what might have happened if twenty men had consumed the Legend’s meat, all of them becoming the Legend itself, with only a slightly-lessened ability to transform everything around them…
The door to his room opened, and Lady Camilla stepped in. She was wearing one of her usual risqué dresses, a black gown with a deeply plunging V-neck.
“I would have expected a lady to knock,” Dominus grumbled. She walked up to the foot of his bed, putting a hand on her hip and smirking at him.
“I was hoping to catch you…enjoying yourself,” she replied.
“My arms don’t work yet.”
“A shame,” she murmured, circling around to stop at the right edge of his bed, sitting down on it. She glanced at his chest – which was wrapped in bandages, leaving his belly bare – then put a hand on the mattress, inches from his right hip. “You must be terribly frustrated.”
“I’ve got other things on my mind.”
“I’ve found that one’s mind works far better if one’s body is taken care of,” Camilla lectured. “You can’t ignore the needs of the flesh without consequence, Dominus.”
“I’ve ignored them quite well for the last twenty years,” Dominus retorted.
“Mmm,” she murmured. “You were an old man then, and very sick.” She lifted her hand from the bed, placing it on the bony protrusion of his pelvis. It was warm, and to Dominus’s surprise, it had an immediate and powerful effect on him. He felt a long-forgotten pulsing in his groin. “Tell me Dominus,” she continued, “…could you even unsheathe your…sword for all those years?”
Dominus grimaced, trying to swipe her hand from his pelvis. But of course his arms didn’t work, his chest muscles still only having partially regenerated. She smirked, glancing down at his groin. It was impossible not to notice the effect she’d had on him.
“Only a fool equates impotence with manliness,” he snapped.
“My apologies,” Camilla replied, lifting her hand away. “I didn’t realize you were so sensitive about it.”
“I’m not.”
“Well you’re certainly not an old man anymore,” she pointed out, glancing at his still-swollen groin. She paused then, giving him a curious look. “Has it affected your mind?”
Dominus blinked.
“What?”
“Your youth,” she clarified. “Your body is growing younger. Is your mind?”
“I still remember everything,” he stated, more defensively than he would have liked. “I’m still myself.” Still, he’d never considered that his mind could be changed by the Ironclad’s power. The thought was instantly sobering…and terrifying.
Had he changed?
“I was just curious,” Camilla replied.
Dominus nodded absently, focusing inward on himself. He hadn’t been monitoring his feelings or thoughts as closely as he used to…and he’d found himself having racy thoughts more and more often, particularly when he was around her. Powerful urges that had all but vanished a decade ago, now roaring back to life.
An annoying – and dangerous – distraction
“We don’t have time for games,” Dominus reminded her. “Or have you forgotten about Zagamar?”
“Ah yes,” Camilla muttered. “That.”
“The beast that attacked me was dead before it arose,” Dominus declared. “I cut its throat myself.”
“I know,” Camilla replied. “My men checked its pulse before bringing it into the cipher room, of course. It had none.”
“You understand the implications, of course.”
She sighed heavily, then nodded.
“Zeno must have absorbed some measure of the Ironclad’s regenerative abilities before being taken over by Zagamar,” she deduced. “And Zagamar has passed that ability on to his underlings.”
“Precisely,” Dominus agreed. “Which means we are in grave danger.”
“I agree,” she replied. “I’ve already sent scouts to the Kingdom of the Deep to alert them. I suggested they go on the offensive immediately, before Zagamar’s hordes get too numerous to handle.”
“My plan exactly,” Dominus concurred. She smirked.
“Brilliant minds think alike.”
“I have to warn Tykus as well,” Dominus pressed.
“I’ll send a messenger.”
“No,” Dominus retorted. “I’ll go myself.” Camilla frowned.
“Dominus, are you forgetting…”
“That I’m supposed to be dead? Yes,” Dominus interrupted.
“And you will be if you go back,” Camilla pointed out.
“Keep in mind that I’m not stupid,” Dominus grumbled. “I have my ways.”
Camilla considered this, then sighed.
“And how exactly do you expect to reach Tykus?” she inquired. Dominus grimaced; she had a point. They’d barely gotten a few kilometers from the mansion before running into the Svartálfar. Or rather, the creatures that had been somewhere between animals and the dreaded dark elves.
“How are your messengers getting to the Kingdom of the Deep?” Dominus shot back. Camilla smirked.
“By flying, of course,” she revealed. “Or do you forget that I’m not constrained by Tykus’s silly laws?”
Dominus hesitated, considering this.
“Can you fly me out?” he asked. “At least to the Fringe?”
Camilla smiled, putting a hand on his bare belly, her palm resting well below his belly button. Again, he felt himself growing…and felt the head of his member pressing against the bottom of her wrist.
“For a price,” she replied.
“Name it,” Dominus shot back.
“I want to know who your contacts in the Kingdom of the Deep are,” she declared. “The ones you always used to outbid me when you were Duke.”
Dominus considered this. Without the power of the Duchy – and the vast fortune it had provided – those contacts were now useless to him.
“And?” he pressed. With Camilla, there was always more.
“I want access to the hidden stashes of artifacts you’ve acquired. And the location of the Kingdom’s stash of illegal artifacts.”
Dominus grimaced. The Kingdom did indeed have illegal artifacts held outside of the Kingdom in various locations.
“For mere travel?” he retorted. “No.”
“In return, I offer my…services,” she pressed. “I can satisfy those annoying urges you’ve…re-acquired.”
“So now you’re offering to be a whore,” he noted. She smirked.
“Oh, so much more than that, Dominus,” she countered. “I’m offering you a stake in my business empire. Say…twenty percent?”
Dominus paused. It was a proper incentive for him. As business partner, he’d take twenty percent of the profits from the Lady’s acquisition of his own artifacts a
nd the Kingdom’s stash. He would be instantly – and considerably – wealthy. This would also position him relatively close to Tykus, allowing him to effectively serve as its protector.
“Sixty percent,” he countered. She arched an eyebrow. “Your personality is strong, but you absorb traits well,” he reminded her. She frowned.
“And how do you know that?”
“The Kingdom has a dossier on every person of interest,” he revealed.
“Ah. Your point?”
“If I stay with you, you may absorb some of my healing ability,” he noted. She gave a rueful smile.
“Always so perceptive,” she mused. Dominus gave a tight smile back. He knew very well that her offer to…take care of him served more than to satisfy her own peculiar appetites. The intimacy allowed for substantial transfer of traits…one that Dominus would normally never allow. And with the Ironclad head missing – or gone – Dominus was her only chance at achieving immortality.
“Thirty percent,” she countered. “I’ve worked too hard not to retain a majority stake.”
Dominus tried to reach out to offer a hand, but of course his arm didn’t move. He grimaced.
“Deal,” he agreed. She smiled at him.
“We’ll make it official once you can sign the proper documents, she stated. Then her smile broadened, and she reached into her cleavage, pulling out two long, black leather straps. They were restraints, he realized. “I’m going to tie your legs to this bed,” she declared. Dominus frowned, feeling his member pressing harder against her palm. He was annoyed at his body for betraying him…and at the same time, intrigued.
“For how long?”
“When your arms finally work again, you can untie them,” Camilla replied. “Until then,” she added, lifting her palm up, then sliding her fingertips down past his bellybutton, until they were perilously close to his erection. Then she rested her palm down on it, making it pulsate reflexively. “You’re mine.”
Chapter 22
When Hunter awoke under the lean-to the next morning, the campfire had long since died. The sun was peeking through the trees just above the horizon, and Sukri was just waking up, stretching out her arms tiredly. Hunter got up, nodding at her, then packing up their stuff. They didn’t say much to each other.
It was more than a little awkward.
“We’re lost,” he declared. “The ocean is north of Tykus, so I think we should find the river and follow it downstream. All rivers lead to the ocean, after all.”
“Did Vi teach you how to find your way in the wilderness?” Sukri asked.
“Of course.”
“Then I’m in your capable hands,” Sukri replied.
The river was to the west, and Hunter noted the direction of the rising sun, then left the clearing, entering into the forest once again. Sukri followed alongside him, and they hiked for a few miles before they heard the rush of running water in the distance. They followed it, eventually reaching the edge of a cliff. The River Ormr was a thirty-foot drop below. They walked parallel to it downstream then, neither of them saying anything as they walked. Hunter wanted to talk with her – to try to understand what’d happened the night before – but decided against it. She clearly didn’t want to talk.
Hours passed, and eventually Hunter slowed, then stopped.
“Wait a sec,” he said.
“What?”
“This place looks familiar,” he stated. The river had gotten much narrower, and quite a bit shallower, more of a stream now. It’d branched a few times, the main river having gone further west. Hunter had followed the shallower branch on a hunch; he’d learned to trust his hunches, given that the majority of them were, at their root, memories he’d absorbed from others. There was a hill in the distance, and a smaller stream leaving a cave in one side of the hill to join the larger stream.
It was the back entrance to the Ironclad lair…the one he and Vi had taken when they’d found the lair the first time!
“Come on,” Hunter urged, leading Sukri toward the cave entrance. She followed reluctantly.
“You gonna tell me what’s going on?” she asked.
“This is the Ironclad lair,” he explained. “We’re here!”
He strode up to the entrance to the cave, walking alongside the banks of the smaller stream. There were several Ironclad guarding it, and they turned to regard Hunter and Sukri as they approached.
“Good afternoon,” Hunter signed, smiling at the Ironclad.
“Good afternoon,” one of them signed back. “Who is she?”
“A friend,” Hunter signed in reply. The Ironclad nodded.
“Welcome back,” it signed. “I will bring you to the Queen.”
One of the Ironclad led Hunter and Sukri into the shallow stream, climbing into the cave, then continuing forward along the left side, as Hunter had done with Vi weeks ago. They followed the Ironclad through the underground maze, eventually reaching the large curved tunnel leading to the central cavern.
“This is where your mom lives?” Sukri asked as they passed countless Ironclad guards lining each wall of the tunnel.
“Yup.”
“Bringing me home to meet the fam already, eh?” she quipped. “You move fast.”
Hunter ignored her comment, and eventually the tunnel opened up into a huge domed cavern. One with a hole in the ceiling far above, a waterfall cascading down to a pool in the center. A ring-like waterfall surrounding and obscuring a rocky island in the middle of the pool.
Hunter led Sukri to the edge of the pool.
“Stay here,” he requested. Then he stepped down into the pool, feeling its current try to pull him leftward. He resisted this, walking toward the waterfall ahead. A blue glow emanated from it; Mom was home, of course. “Mom?” he called out.
The light grew brighter, and then a dark figure emerged from the waterfall, stepping down into the pool. It was an Ironclad even taller than Xerxes, with long black tendrils sprouting from its head like hair, some glowing bright blue like Xerxes’ mane. It was clearly female, with breasts jutting out of its thorax; tendrils of glowing blue membrane extended down its arms and legs like veins. It was Neesha, queen of the Ironclad…and his mother.
“Hey Mom,” Hunter greeted, pulling his wings as far in as possible. But there was no way to hide them. She stared down at him…or more specifically, at his wings.
“Hunter, what did you do?” she demanded.
“Nice to see you too,” he replied lamely. She glared at him, crossing both pairs of arms over her thorax.
“What did you do,” she insisted. Hunter sighed, spreading out his wings.
“A bad thing,” he admitted.
“You turned into a bird?” she blurted out incredulously, taking a step back. Hunter shrugged.
“I was drunk.”
“You were drunk,” she repeated.
“They said I had to choose a spirit,” Hunter explained.
“So you chose a bird?” she exclaimed. “You know I hate birds!”
“So do I,” Hunter reminded her. “Didn’t you always tell me to face my fears?” he added rather lamely. She gave him a withering look.
“Hunter…”
“Hi there,” Sukri interjected, waving at Neesha. “I’m Sukri.”
Neesha turned to Sukri, as if seeing her for the first time.
“Who is this?” she demanded.
“My friend,” Hunter answered.
“Not for nothing, those wings saved our lives,” Sukri informed her. “I got shoved off a bridge. Hunter caught me and flew me to safety.”
Mom considered this.
“That’s nice,” she decided. “We’ll cut them off.”
“Yeah, about that,” Hunter grumbled. “I kinda swallowed Xerxes’ goo beforehand.”
“It just keeps getting better,” Mom muttered. “So I’m going to have to live with this?”
“Afraid so.”
Neesha sighed, eyeing Hunter’s wings with disgust, then shaking her head.
&nbs
p; “Fine. Did you make it to the Deep?”
“Yeah. Zaggie can’t take over anymore.”
“Good,” she replied, clearly relieved. “Where’s your brother?”
“We don’t know,” Sukri piped in. “Last thing we saw, he was fighting one of Lady Camilla’s Seekers near the Kingdom of the Deep.”
“Then he’s probably looking for you,” Neesha guessed. “I’ll send some Ironclad to fetch him.”
Just then, Hunter heard footsteps behind him, and turned to see a very familiar woman striding toward him. She wore a suit made of dark brown leather, countless bones embedded in the fabric, and the face-part of a human skull at her chest. She had light brown hair cut so short she was almost bald, and large green eyes that twinkled as she approached.
“I leave you boys alone for a couple days,” she declared, stopping beside Sukri at the edge of the pool. “…and look at what happens. Nice wings, Hunter. You look like a fairy.”
“Hey Vi,” Hunter greeted sheepishly, climbing out of the pool to stand before her.
“Hello,” Sukri greeted.
“Who are you?” Vi inquired.
“Remember when you first met me?” Hunter asked. Vi nodded.
“You were with a girl, a big guy, and the guy who got his arm ripped off,” she recalled.
“Right,” Hunter confirmed. “This is the girl.”
“I’m Sukri,” Sukri greeted. Vi turned to her, looking her up and down. Particularly focusing on the down.
“Nice ass,” she complimented.
“Thanks,” Sukri replied. “Your ass is amazing.” Vi smirked.
“Yeah it is.”
“Hunter’s told me a lot about you,” Sukri added. “He really loves you, you know.”
“I know,” Vi replied. “The feeling is mutual,” she added, wrapping an arm around Hunter’s shoulders and squeezing affectionately. “Good to see you, kiddo. Not going to lie, I was a little worried about you.”
“I had Xerxes to protect me,” Hunter replied with a smile, squeezing her back. “I missed you too by the way.” He turned to Mom. “How’s the war planning going?”
