by Olivia Myers
In an instant, a hand pinned him against the wall like a doll. Three figures masked in dark armor flooded into the house. The fire threw their shadows on the walls: horrible, dancing shapes.
“What is this?” Artyr asked, dazed. “What’s happening?”
Dimly, he saw blazing from their breastplates Blethen’s insignia: a dragon, mouth opened in a scream and a spear piercing through from mouth to tail.
“Artyr—Esquire,” a voice said from behind the visor of its helmet. “You are hereby under arrest for assisting a Fugitive. Justice will be done in the name of King Blethen the Redeemer.”
“A Fugitive?” the old man stumbled over the word. “I know nothing about this. I have done nothing.”
But the soldiers ignored him. They were a flurry of movement stripping the house, throwing over the carefully arranged furniture, ripping open his chairs, tearing the embers from the grated fire.
“Have I done something wrong?” his voice was weak and pitiful. “What’s happening?”
“The details of your crime will be made known to you at the trial,” the voice went on. “But now you will tell us where we can find your daughter.”
“My daughter,” he whispered. “My daughter has done nothing! My daughter is innocent!”
Anything more he might have said was silenced suddenly by a thick punch in his stomach. Artyr doubled over, gasping, but the hand held him tight. The man who’d struck him looked almost bored. This is impossible. Artyr thought. What world is this? How can you hit a man without anger?
Then another voice spoke, twisted by the visor. “Upstairs, milord.”
“My daughter is innocent!” Artyr fought a cry out from behind the hand holding him. But his protests were no use. The soldiers were already tearing upstairs, and then there was a loud crash and muffled shouts.
“She’s done nothing!”
Another moment and the soldiers were back downstairs. Gwythn was not with them.
“She is not here, milord,” the soldiers reported.
“Let him go,” the man in command said. “I can sense he’s telling the truth—he knows nothing. The King would rather he be spared, for his talent is great.”
Artyr’s head sank, partially in relief, partially in fear. Accomplice to a Fugitive, the thought sank into his mind with horrible clarity. Oh my child, what have you done?
*
The air was clear and cold, and the trees so dense that the blackness of the night seemed even blacker than Gwythn had ever seen it before. They’d made it to the woods, to the very lake where that afternoon Gwythn had learned Rhythion’s terrible secret.
“I need to rest,” she tugged at the arm that led her.
Rhythion saw the exhaustion in her face and agreed. They stopped at the edge of the lake where above the waters a dense fog curled and curtained, white as cloud. She sank to the ground and immediately wanted to sleep.
“We cannot rest long,” Rhythion cautioned. “They will be here soon. We must keep going.”
“I cannot take another step. I feel like I could die here.”
“You’ve had a shock. But you must fortify yourself. You must become stronger. You will never survive otherwise.”
“You don’t understand. How could you understand? You’re a dragon.”
“But I can feel you,” he said. “Even now, I feel you. Your exhaustion is mine. We share it now. All that you are—your fears, your desires, your fate—they are mine to bear. Your humanity is mine.”
“Then give me something of yours,” she pleaded. “If you will share me, then I must share you. If we are in this together—then we must belong to each other. It cannot be just me who belongs to you. Please, Rhythion.” Her voice was naked and weak.
“Something of mine,” the dragon whispered. He came closer to her, held her in his arms. “If you have the strength, if you can bear it as I can bear you, I will do what you say. But it will not be easy. You will have to learn. Do you have the strength? Do I ask too much?”
“Nothing more than what I will freely give of myself,” she whispered. His arms tightened around her. His breath came hot on her neck. “Give it to me, please.”
He lay he down on the sands and devoured her with his a kiss. But it was not the kiss they’d shared in the lake earlier in the day. It was not her trying to overpower him, but he sharing his strength with her. And it was not just power that she felt, but tenderness and warmth.
As his tongue lingered inside her mouth, his free hand travelled down and opened the buttons of her blouse. The air was cold on her skin but it brought Gwythn into shivering wakefulness. She took his hand and placed it on her breast. He cupped and massaged her, and then let his kisses travel down her throat until his soft lips had embraced her nipple.
“Rhythion,” she gasped. “More, I need more.”
His hand was warm and powerful as it slid further down her body, past her waistline until it softly buried itself beneath her undergarments. His fingers played delicately against her warm, wet folds, sending her into shivers of gasps.
Like a shadow he came on top of her, weightless yet apparent. Her hands hungered for him, pulling down his trousers, revealing his fully erect stalk like some gorgeous gift.
They melted into one another, became one. He slid slowly forward, penetrating her with just the tip of his stalk and then teasing himself away, into aching oblivion. When she thought she’d lost him he came back again, forcefully, entering her with a satisfaction that was like a long breath after being submerged underwater.
Her breaths quickened until they fell into the rhythm of his moving thighs, submerging his manhood more fully into her waiting embrace.
Again and again, each time with more strength, more will, he entered her. Her head pillowed against the sand of the beach, she closed her eyes and gave herself away to the aching pleasure. She could die with him inside her. She could give herself up to the fantastic force, and become nothing.
And now she felt something entering her, something beyond his mere physical presence. A strength entered her from some place obscured and far away, not a human strength, but a kind of inspiration. She felt as though she was glowing, as though she were shedding her human form and becoming a creature altogether different, without weakness.
“More, more,” she gasped. “Come inside me, Rhythion. I need you.”
The man above her—man or beast she did not know—became firmer and larger, as she’d seen him grow earlier that day. He expanded inside her, and she expanded with him. She became more. She was emerging into a place beyond herself, into a place where only she and he existed, coupled in strength. No fear existed now. Fear was something of the past and here belonged only the glorious, the blazing moment of the present.
And then she felt something warm and lucid flow through her, like a river suddenly bursting from the ground. Her mouth opened in a cry of delight. She hugged him closer with her thighs, refusing to surrender him, refusing to let him go.
Clasped one to each other, they lay paired on the beach, gasping their excitement into the air grown cold about them. Yet no world existed outside of the world they’d created for themselves: a world where kings and soldiers were eclipsed by the shadow of the sun that set and rose for them alone. Together they’d created their world, and together they would enter it. Rising together, they flew in each other’s arms toward the horizon, to the new world of their making. Not a world for man or beast. A world for Fugitives.
THE END
Love Invasion
I was already having a bad day before New York fell. The morning was full of anticipation, excitement and nervous energy as I woke up early to get to the exercise room in the building. Consisting of two old treadmills and a few mismatched free weights, it wasn’t much to brag about, but it was enough for me.
When I finished, I jogged to the coffee shop around the corner on 5th Avenue, and I remember wondering if it was going to rain because the sky was still so dark at seven, but considering today I was twelve w
eeks pregnant, and I couldn’t hide it forever, I was more preoccupied with how I was going to break the news to Neil.
His favorite mocha with extra whip and a cinnamon roll couldn’t hurt to soften the blow. Decaf for me. Non-fat, no whip, and a parfait. That was healthy for the little one, right?
Neil still lay in bed, snoring softly when I got back to the apartment. I loved the way his hair fell over his eyes when he slept. But it was time to tell him and if I woke him then, he wouldn’t have the “rushing to work” excuse not to hear me.
“Babe,” I said, jiggling his arm.
I waited till he sat up, stretching and blinking, to hand him his breakfast.
“What’s the occasion?” he asked, smiling. I loved his slightly crooked bottom teeth and the dimple in his left cheek.
I sighed. It was time.
“Neil, I have to tell you something. I’m pregnant.”
He froze, pastry forgotten halfway to his mouth.
“Well?” I pressed. “Aren’t you excited? I mean I know we said we couldn’t afford to get married, let alone have a family yet, but these things happen for a reason. We’ll make it work. I’ll make it work. I’ve already been job hunting and I found this app that lets you sell all your old—”
“Stop.” Neil jumped out of the bed faster than I’d seen him move since he dropped out of school. “Just. Stop.”
My mouth snapped shut and I fought the tears that threatened to form. Damn hormones. He was surprised, that was all. He needed time to adjust. This was huge and I’d already had like six weeks to get used to it.
“We can fix it,” he said, smiling. “It’s still early enough to get it taken care of.”
I grabbed my stomach, instinctively. “Actually I’m twelve weeks today. It’s my second trimester and I’m not having an abortion. I’ve seen her, Neil. Her little hands and her heart beat. You’ll see it too…”
“No. I won’t. Rachel, baby, I’m not ready to be a dad. You’re not ready to be a mom. Look at you.”
I looked down at myself. What was he referring to? My body? The fact that I didn’t have a full time job? Neither did he. This time the tears came anyway.
“Oh, Jesus, Rach. How am I supposed to have an intelligent conversation if you start crying? Shit. I was going to tell you anyway.”
“Tell me what?” I asked.
“That it’s over. Rachel, I’m moving to LA. I’m going to follow my dreams. I was invited to join a band.”
“A band?” My mind worked overtime trying to catch up. “That’s wonderful! We can go to LA together. Who invited you?”
Neil rubbed his hands down his face like he was dealing with an idiot. “It was this street band – but they’re awesome. They’ve got this sound that… well, it doesn’t matter. The thing is I was invited. Not us. Okay? Do you get it now? I’m sorry to be mean, but you kind of forced it out of me, didn’t you? I was going to break the news nicer. I don’t know, I was going to buy you a going away gift or something. Shit.”
Neil brushed past me and I heard the shower start in the small bathroom we shared. I sat on the bed, trying to understand.
Neil was leaving me.
I was pregnant and had a part-time, minimum wage job in New York City. I was going to end up on the street with my baby unless I got my shit together. I reached for the cinnamon roll Neil had left on his nightstand and took a bite.
Maybe he’d calm down after the shower…
Boom.
The earth shook. I grabbed hold of the bed and Neil’s coffee fell on the ground, soaking into the carpet. I fixated on it. The stupid coffee. How I wanted everything to be perfect for the baby and here was this stain that I probably couldn’t get out because of a freaking earthquake.
Boom. Boom. Boom.
Chunks of plaster fell from the ceiling and I screamed as the entire twenty-eight story building swayed. Neil ran naked and wet from the bathroom, holding a towel over his dick.
“What the fuck?”
It happened again, but by this time I’d grabbed his hand and hauled him toward the door. The lights flickered and went out as we ran down the hall along with about twenty other people just as confused as we were. Was it another terrorist attack? Someone asked it out loud and people panicked even worse, shoving and screaming as we ran down the stairs through the explosions. The building shook and I grabbed on to the banister. Several people, screaming, went flying over the side of the banister to fall three whole floors.
Somewhere I lost Neil’s hand, but I could still see his naked backside as he streamed down the steps with the mob. People joined in on floors below us and it was a miracle we got to the lobby before the whole building collapsed.
The second we made it to the street and I caught up to Neil, a whole battalion of Them came marching down the avenue, ships the shape of sleek black arrows in the sky above, shooting chasms into the ground and taking chunks out of buildings. They left craters so huge that it looked like a monster had taken a giant chomp out of each one. The sidewalks were littered with bodies and blood and more panicked people running in every direction.
Some people went down on their knees in the middle of the street, begging for their lives. The invaders didn’t care. They shot them all. All except the younger women. I noticed it right away – maybe because I fit the category, or maybe because it was so damn obvious. They left the young women unharmed, but herded them like sheep to a spot on the corner where a black ship, larger and more rounded than the others, was hovering. I watched, horror-stricken, as beams shot down from the belly of the ship and sucked the women up inside. Group after group.
Before my eyes, the ship vanished, shooting across the sky. Then another ship took its place.
Swearing under my breath, I grabbed Neil’s arm and pulled, but he wouldn’t budge. He just kept staring at the Vendi as they marched closer. They looked like men in tight leather suits. Really tall, really strong men with rust-colored skin. It was like the Terminator on steroids, or maybe Iron Man.
Their large weapons incinerated about a third of whatever they shot at. I tried not to look at the carnage, but the foul odor of something burnt stung my nose. I knew we had to get the hell out of there.
“Neil, wake up!” I screamed. Finally he shook himself and let me pull him toward the next block. But by then we were fighting chaos and even more of Them coming from other angles. I searched for a place to hide, but saw one of the larger ships hovering. It opened its beam and women’s bodies were dumped out onto the concrete, over screaming people and parked cars that set off alarms, adding to the anarchy.
Such disregard for human life. All those women, killed instantly.
I vomited. There was no holding it back. Neil pried his arm from my hand and ran for cover as they came, but one of them shot him in the back. Right there, just like that, the love of my life and father of my unborn child fell dead in the center of the street.
I think I cried. I didn’t really know what I was doing at that moment, just that a large, strong hand yanked me off of my feet and dragged me to the corner. I kicked and screamed, and stared back at the broken bodies of the women who’d been taken by the other ship. I tried desperately to run, but there was some sort of force field that prevented anyone getting out. We were packed in an invisible square, probably thirty of us, all pushing against the side of our cell. The women closest to the sides were squashed against the others, but comfort was the furthest thing from our minds. I stayed toward the center, trying to think of some way to save my baby.
That’s when the beam came down. It was so bright I had to shield my eyes with an arm, and when I looked again I was standing in a cavernous room. The women around me were stumbling and trying to orient themselves to this new reality. The room was large, and the walls were covered in white padding. I looked around, trying to see if there was a way to escape, when a loud booming voice echoed throughout the room.
“Remain calm. We are the Vendi. You have been chosen for a great purpose. We are selecting the
finest specimens of your kind. You will be led into a test chamber with one of our doctors. There is no need to panic. If you panic, you will be considered unworthy and put down immediately.”
This didn’t go over well. Many of the women started chattering and crying, but I breathed in and out as slowly as I could, trying to stay calm. I had to stay calm if I wanted to survive.
Part of one wall slid open and one of Them, a Vendi, came inside. He was flanked by two other Vendi with weapons. The women parted like a sea. They selected five women, then pointed at me. I swallowed hard and followed, trying not to shake.
One woman tried to run and a Vendi shot her in the back without hesitation. The others stumbled, but managed to keep walking.
“I am Argo,” the Vendi without a weapon said. “I will be your doctor while you are here.”
“I want to go home,” a girl of about seventeen said.
Argo turned to look at her, tilting his head to the side. “I am sorry. But you most likely have no home left to return to.”
It was odd, the way he said it, like he was actually sorry. The girl began to cry, desperately trying to stop herself, straining her muscles and covering her mouth. One of the other two Vendi aimed his weapon at her.
“No!” Argo said in a firm voice, and the Vendi held. “She is distraught, but not unreasonable.”
They led us down a bright white hall to a glass sliding door. Inside there were exam tables like I’d see in a doctor’s office and instruments of all kinds, some familiar, some not, to the side. A second sliding door on the opposite end was just closing and three naked women were being ushered to one side while five clothed ones were being sent the other way.
“Where are they going?” I asked, as calmly as possible, slipping next to Argo. I was a tall girl, but I only reached his shoulder.
He peered down at me, his large orchid eyes flicking back and forth like he was searching my face. “You are calm?”
His voice was actually quite soothing, not what I expected from the soldiers I’d seen. But maybe he wasn’t one of them. He said he was a doctor.
“I see no reason to loose my cool yet.” It was good to know I was doing a decent job hiding the terror inside. Every cell in my body was bent on survival. I had a child within me, a child to protect.
