They both breathed an audible sigh of relief now that they were no longer over acidic waters. By traveling in an unregistered scoot, which was really little more than an oversized longboat, they eliminated the need for a Stonemaster Engineer onboard and minimized the danger that the Stone Council would simply cut off the magic that held them aloft and drop them into the ocean. Even so, minimized is not the same as eliminated, and they were relieved to find that so far they had managed to slip by unnoticed.
“I’m so excited,” Ryin beamed, rubbing his hands together. “I knew being nice to Athel would pay off sooner or later.”
Hanner spat tobacco juice over the side. “Pay off? She gave you a squattin’ fortune in gemstones.”
Ryin grabbed the shoals and leaned out over the side to get a better view. “This is the best mission ever. Being special guests on an island of lonely beauties. I’m going to get me a sizzling hot Hatronesian girlfriend. Maybe two…maybe three. Hey, do they allow more than one wife here, like on Falmar?”
Hanner took out a fresh piece of chewing tobacco and gave it to his baby, who gnawed on it happily while his father burped him over his shoulder. “You’d think they’d have to, as few men as they have.”
Ryin giggled happily. “I like these odds. I’m going to teach these women things they’ve never dreamed of.”
Strenner burped, releasing a gout of fire into the air. “And just what are you going to teach them, virgin?”
“Shut up, Hanner.”
The small ship passed beneath an archway of canopy, and the breathtaking vista of a lush jungle valley came into view. Protected on three sides by high smiling cliffs, crisp waterfalls fell down into clean clear pools of water, sparkling in the sunlight. Soaring about through the air were radiant women, held aloft by white wings, their golden hair decorated with all manner of jungle flowers.
One flew near them and stretched her hand out in greeting. “Welcome to paradise,” she said in the common tongue. Her voice was as smooth as silk.
Ryin was so awestruck, he didn’t even think to greet her back until she had flown off again, leaving a golden trail of sparkling dust in her wake. Her deliciously slim feminine features, her taut firm waist, her long and luscious legs. It was almost more than he could bear as he dropped to his knees in worship.
“Oh wow, look at them. They’re even more incredible than the stories say.”
Hanner spat over the side again. “If you say so.”
A pair of women flew by and directed them to the docks.
Ryin picked himself up and spun the ship’s wheel. “How can you not like them?”
Hanner took out a cigar and lit it by producing a blue flame from the tip of his thumb. “They look like they’re made of squattin’ paper to me. I’d be afraid to break ‘em. Give me a big old strong Iberian woman any day, with rippling biceps and a strong back. The kind of woman that will throw you to the ground and…”
“Stop it!” Ryin yelled as he dropped the sails. “I don’t want to hear that.”
“Why?”
“Because I’m going to throw up in my mouth, and I don’t want bad breath when I meet my future wives.”
Hanner chuckled, then offered Strenner a puff or two. “Tenderfoot. My wife could snap you in half like a lava pepper.”
Ryin released the anchor and expertly let the ship settle to a stop right alongside the dock. As he grabbed the mooring lines, something made him pause. “What happened to your wife, anyway?”
“My wife?”
“Yeah, I’ve known you for years and I’ve never seen her. Where is she?”
Hanner shrugged. “I dunno. Somewhere.”
Sliding his bucket behind him, Pops the Janitor worked his way up the stairs in his brand new Alliance uniform, calmly mopping as he went. Pausing to take a breather, he gave a gruff sniff with his prominent nose and looked around. “So, what kind of magic do they use here?”
A shadow passed over them as a brick building floated lazily by. Although conventionally square with regular windows, it was bent in the middle at a right angle. Another circular building floated above it, with a hole in the center like a doughnut. All in all, there were about a hundred buildings leisurely floating about above the valley, each a different shape, looking vaguely like a collection of building blocks. Occasionally, two would gently bump into one another, only to slowly spin away. The women laughed as they chased each other, zipping about this ever-changing obstacle course. Occasionally, one would get tired and enter through a window to her private room, only to emerge a few minutes later, rested and refreshed, zipping down to the waters below to splash and swim with her sisters.
“Ah, gravity magic, got it.”
Ryin caught himself drooling as he watched the swimming women and wiped his chin off with his sleeve. “It’s hard to believe this is the place that creates gravity mines for the navy.”
“It’s how they exempt themselves from military service,” Pops mentioned as he got back to work, swabbing the deck. Ryin glanced over at Pop’s uniform. The seams were rough, the edges misaligned, the material patchwork and of differing shades, as if it had been assembled from floor scraps.
“You made that uniform yourself, didn’t you?”
Light gathered before them and became a being that exploded into existence.
“Hello, I am the god Poe!” the glowing boy shouted with outstretched hands.
“Ahhhhh!” Hanner and Ryin were so startled they fell back on top of Pops.
“Holy anvils!” Ryin squealed, gripping his chest with fright.
Poe spun around and adjusted the tall miter hat he wore upon his brow, his skin so bright it was almost painful to look at. “Welcome to my playground.”
Hanner picked himself up and checked that Strenner was okay. Pops groaned painfully beneath his feet as he lay in the crater created in the bent timber.
Ryin licked his lips in panic, not sure what to do. “Um…yes, you’re a god. Ah…should we…bow to you?”
“That depends, do you like bowing?”
Ryin and Hanner looked at each other worriedly. Was this a test? They both knew that one wrong word could lead them to being cursed to spend the rest of their lives as toads.
Hanner shrugged and spat out his bent cigar. “Not particularly.”
Poe giggled. “Then don’t bow. Here, have a cookie.”
With a wave of his golden hand, a large warm cookie appeared in each of their hands.
“Oh wow,” Hanner said as he held it up. The chips glowed like silver, and ribbons of shining caramel ran through it like gold.
Ryin shook his head to try and rattle the gears back into motion. “You’re not…like the other gods I’ve met.”
Poe placed his finger on his chin. “How many have you met?”
Ryin opened his mouth, but then closed it again. “Well…just my own, I guess, and Maltua has a temper like a blast furnace.”
Poe laughed and did a back flip. “Maltua is a big stuffy head. What’s the use of living forever if you never enjoy yourself?”
“I…guess that makes sense.”
Ryin looked down at his cookie. “I am going to keep this forever. No one back home is going to believe that a god gave me a cookie.”
Hanner shrugged and took a bite.
“How is it?”
“It’s not that good,” Hanner said, light pouring out of his mouth. “Alder’s are better.”
The woman who had first greeted them came fluttering to a landing with two other golden-haired beauties. “See, it’s like I told you,” she tittered. “Men have come to Paradise!”
Poe cartwheel happily in the air. “I’ve allowing them to come play with us for a while, Layla.”
“Oh, how wonderful,” Layla gushed, her dazzling eyes becoming smoky. “I can’t wait to play with the young one.”
As she
pointed at him, Ryin could only make a noise. It was halfway between a stupored gurgle and a hungry moan.
“Oh wow, a real man from the outside,” the second one cheered, clapping her hands together.
The third one flew over and placed her hands on Ryin’s arms, squeezing his biceps appreciatively. “Can I get you a drink?”
“How about a massage?” Layla suggested.
“No, I want to give him a massage,” the third one protested.
Ryin snapped himself out of it and held up his arms, trying to look as confident and suave as he possibly could. “Ladies, ladies, there’s no need to fight over me. You can all take turns giving me a massage.”
The three women cheered. “What a great idea!” they said in unison. “We’ll take turns!”
Ryin looked like he was in heaven.
“You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?” Hanner quipped.
“Not yet, but I’m going to.”
Two more women landed, then three more. They pointed and whispered to each other, hopping up and down with excitement.
“Oh, I’m going to thank Athel for this when we get back,” Ryin said as he looked at the growing crowd of gorgeous women fawning over him.
Hanner flicked him in the back of the head. “You forgetting something, lover boy?”
“Oh, right,” Ryin said, rubbing his head. “I’m sure that Ath…I mean, Queen Forsythia told you the reason for our visit, correct?”
Poe stuck out his golden tongue. “Oh, that dumb treaty again?”
“Yeah, can we talk to you about that?”
The boy god folded his arms. “No.”
Ryin grew worried. “No?”
Poe cracked open and eye and giggled. “Not until you have some fun first! You’ve had a long journey, you need to unwind. Here, I’ll have someone show you around my playground.”
He snapped his fingers and a freckled girl in pigtails appeared sitting on the dock next to them, a mascara wand in one hand, a cheek powder brush in her other.
“Ahhhhh!” she screamed, pulling her robes in tight around her. “What happened to my room?”
Poe tittered and helped her to her feet. “Here, Ellie, I’m appointing you to be Paradise’s official tour-giver, a very prestigious position that I just made up. Show around our guests…er…what we’re your names again?”
Ryin perked up. “What, me? Oh, I’m Ryin Colenat and he’s Hanner…”
Ryin snapped his head over to his shipmate. “Do you Iberians even have last names?”
“It’s Iacoli, squat-head.”
“Okay, okay, I just didn’t think you guys could write out that many letters in a row.”
“Racist cinder.”
“So, Ellie, durst thou accept this great obeisance?” Poe asked, bowing in an unnecessarily dramatic fashion, a rose stem appearing in his mouth.
“Um, okay, I guess,” Ellie said as she straightened her white robes. “The Hatronesian garb she wore were clearly made for someone much taller, making her appear even younger than she actually was.
Ryin’s eyes narrowed in displeasure. “Hey, you’re not Hatronesian.”
Ellie crinkled her freckled nose. “Boy, you sailor guys are smart, aren’t you?”
Poe floated over and put her arms around Ryin and Hanner, who tried not to wince from the heat of it. “The war has created chaos in the other gods’ sandboxes. Everywhere, there are children left without homes, without families. I invited them all to come here where they will be taken care of.”
Ryin tried to step away from his sizzling touch without appearing rude. “Oh, I get it, so this place is like one huge day care center for the League.”
“Pffft. No, silly. This is the real world. Everything beyond these borders is a terrible place of pain and grief. My friends stay here with me in reality waiting for the others to wake up from their nightmares and join us.”
Ryin watched as another ship arrived and began unloading children.
“Ugh, I hate kids,” he grumbled.
“Well, then you won’t like it here very much,” Hanner gruffed.
Ryin looked at Ellie, then looked over at the group of winged women waving at him, trying to get his attention. “Can’t I have Layla here be my guide? No offense, but I’d much rather be with her than some kid.”
Ellie puffed out her cheeks. “Hey, I’m not a kid. I’m fifteen years old, where I come from that is legally an adult.”
“Yeah, where I come from, it’s legally a felony to date a squirt like you.”
“Ha! Like I would, anyway. You’ve got loser stamped all over you. I can practically smell the failure from here!”
Hanner laughed, “I like this kid.”
Ellie stamped her foot. “I said, don’t call me a kid.”
Layla flew over. “Ellie, I know you are not from here, but you must not speak to men this way. Men are our most precious resource.”
“Yes, they must be care for and protected,” another added, wrapping her arms around Ryin’s neck.
“Cherished and honored,” a third said, nuzzling up against his calf.
“Washed and pampered,” a fourth said, leaning up against his shoulder.
The attention of so many gorgeous females caused Ryin’s ego to instantly inflate to fifty times its normal size. “Ha, you see there, squirt? These girls understand how to treat a man. You could learn a lot from them.”
Ellie rolled her eyes. “It’s just because they don’t know any better.”
Poe clapped his hands and all the women lined up in neat rows. “Very well, I have decided. Ellie and Layla will share the honor and be co-official tour givers. As for the rest of you, who would like to see a puppet show?”
“I would, I would,” the girls shouted in unison, waving their hands into the air.
“Okay, have everyone head over to the amphitheater. I’ll meet you there.”
“Yay!”
Poe flew off with the mass of winged women, leaving Ryin, Hanner, Ellie, and Layla alone on the dock.
“Well, shall we begin?” Ryin asked, offering his elbow to Layla, who took it with a happy squeal.
Ellie and Hanner exhaled in exasperation and followed.
“Um…little help here?” Pops mumbled, unable to free himself from where Hanner had smashed him into the deck.
“…hello?”
* * *
The real Spirea watched as her body galloped through the brisk morning air, the twinkling dew of the plains beyond catching the swift sunrise in the east. The thundering hooves of the sweet-smelling Y’darni stallion beneath her, the mist of her breath stinging against her cheeks, the whipping of her raven hair against her shoulders, the weight of the scepter in her hands. She could feel it all, but she could do nothing about it. Her body was no longer her own, and she was a prisoner behind her own eyes.
Tigera rode abreast on his own stallion, laughing with excitement. He wove about as they sped through a small grove of trees, then with practice expertise he leaned to one side and accelerated, moving to cut her off. Queen Sotol gave her mount a quick tap of the spurs and reared up, animal and rider moving as one as they leapt into the air, clearing above his head, and landing before him with a thunderous clack of hooves.
His path blocked, Tigera leaned back and ground to a halt. The Queen and her horse came to a stop before him without looking back, the animal giving a self-satisfied flick of his tail, as if expressing his master’s own feelings.
“That was well done, your Highness,” Tigera praised as he trotted up alongside her. “Extremely well done. You have developed a mastery that takes most nobles years to accomplish.”
“I do not pay you to flatter me.”
Tigera grinned and stroked his goatee. “Very well then, I will correct you instead. A true rider has no need to use the spurs like that. You need to spend
more time earning the animal’s trust.”
“Trust is for children. All I require is his fear.”
Tigera laughed warmly as he rearranged some of the carved bones. “Yes, I have noticed that. You throttle your ride the same way you throttle your subordinates.”
Queen Sotol looked at him harshly.
Is this guy stupid? The real Spirea wondered. He’s going to get himself beheaded talking to her like that.
Without warning, the blade in her scepter extended and was pressed up against his throat. It happened so quickly, he didn’t even have a chance to blink.
“I have butchered men where they stood for saying less than that to me,” The Queen snarled. “I am the crown royal of Stretis and the leader of all League military forces, you mewling flea!”
Tigera didn’t move. His eyes were as calm as still waters. “Yes, you are violent, ruthless, and utterly devoid of pity or remorse…I think it is beautiful.”
Queen Sotol’s eyes narrowed in confusion, and she withdrew the blade. “You are an odd man. Do you know that? Does nothing frighten you?”
Tigera laughed and wheeled his mount around so they could speak face to face. “Your Highness, you will find that we Hoeunites care little for the rules of people. They’re too arbitrary and complex. They serve only to elevate those who made them. The realm of animals has only one rule: Kill, or be killed. Life for an animal is violent, cruel, and short. That is the natural order of things. You have a purity of spirit about you that I find beautiful. Unfettered by conscious, undiluted by doubt. You achieve your goals unflinchingly without hesitation or regret.”
The Queen blushed and turned away. “That is twice now you have called me beautiful. Do not do it again if you value your life.”
Wait…does she…like him?
Tigera smiled and urged his stallion forward a couple of paces to draw closer to her. “I look into your eyes and I see the eyes of a hungry wolf. What word other than beautiful could accurately convey such immaculacy?”
She blushed deeper. Absentmindedly, she reached up and brushed aside the Eye of the Storm necklace in order to touch the carved bone Beastmaster necklace she wore underneath her royal gown.
Isle of Wysteria: The Monolith Crumbles Page 22
