“I can’t believe you’d worry over a little waif like Kaia,” said Mauve.
“I did see you looking at her…” said Madina, a touch defensively. “At what she had to offer.”
“I wasn’t looking at what she had to offer,” said Mauve. “I was noticing how much she lacked, compared to the woman I love.”
He reached over and cupped Madina’s naked breast. Madina let out a soft moan. Mauve kissed her neck, sighing as he felt her hand softly tightening around his manhood. He kissed her again, feeling his passions building like a wildfire. The tent, with its thin canopy, had left them with practically no privacy for the duration of their journey. Mauve wanted nothing more than to mount her with all the energy and enthusiasm his muscles could manage.
He shifted in closer to her, sliding his tool between her legs from the back. He wanted nothing more than the find the right angle, push into her, and get a reminder of how well their bodies fit and worked as a unit. He told himself he could be quiet. Madina was breathing fast, her body grinding back against his, almost urging him on.
Mauve didn’t get the chance. The ground underneath them shook. He froze in the middle of caressing one of Madina’s nipples and sat up, instantly on alert.
“What is it?” whispered Madina.
Mauve didn’t answer her. He rushed through pulling his clothes on, forgoing a shirt in his haste. It left more of his scars exposed, but that wasn’t what he was focused on.
Outside the tent, over by the oasis, stood a small dragon. It was tough to make out details with only the light of the fire illuminating it, but Mauve saw its oily black scales, long folded wings, and the massive claws on each of its four limbs. There was no doubt in his mind over what it was.
Several others, Jonah included, had emerged from the tents and were watching the creature. It was bent over the oasis, its head partially submerged as it drank greedily from the water. It barely even noticed any of the men watching from the edge of the camp. Some of them looked fascinated, but others were clearly horrified. Mauve was the odd man out as he made his way toward the sand sled upon which he’d left his spear.
He’d given it a lot of consideration as he was preparing for the journey. Mauve’s training was with swords and pistols, but he’d seen the monster that had attacked the Kentar estate, if only for an instant. He knew that it would probably take more than a slash or a pistol ball to break through its hide. With a spear, he could put his whole body into stabbing, into puncturing, and do what needed to be done.
“Mauve,” said Jonah. “What are you thinking?”
He saw his fellow voiceman approach out of the corner of his eye. Jonah was shaking his head as he looked at him.
“I’m thinking this is why we came on this expedition,” said Mauve.
“We came on this expedition to explore,” said Jonah. “And to find out more. Not to commit suicide.”
“I’ll kill it before it kills me,” said Mauve.
“Are you out of your mind?” asked Jonah. “Look at its size, Mauve!”
Mauve was already walking past him. Truth be told, the dragon was small compared to the one he’d last seen, but still large enough to pose a threat to any person. Mauve signaled to the soldiers and scouts, all of whom were awake now.
“Guns out,” said Mauve. “Unload a volley at the place where the tail connects to its body.”
He’d given it some thought, deciding that the range of motion of the tail might leave the scales around it less durable than elsewhere on its body. The soldiers and scouts looked incredibly hesitant, and Mauve had to give the order again before they snapped into motion. Jonah, watching the scene with a disapproving frown and arms crossed, didn’t help.
The men fell into rank, aimed, and fired. Five out of six bullets struck true. The dragon stopped drinking for an instant, glanced in their direction, and then continued exactly as it had been. It was as though they’d thrown dirt clods at it.
“You arrogant monster,” muttered Mauve. “I won’t let you make a fool of me.”
“Mauve!” shouted Madina. She stood just outside their tent, clad only in a loose sheet.
Mauve was already running, his spear gripped tight, feet fighting for purchase on the loose sand. The dragon, for all its aloofness, turned as he came within attack range. It held Mauve’s gaze for an instant, each of its fist sized, red eyes reflecting the firelight.
It lifted its head up and unleashed a burst of bright flame directly into the air. Mauve froze, the display instantly bringing him back to that horrific night. He was there again, at the window. He could feel his skin burning, smell the disgusting scent of his own seared flesh.
The dragon reared up on its hind limbs. Mauve snapped back to reality. He fumbled as he tried to rush forward, tripping over his own feet and feeling idiotic. He slammed the butt of the spear into the sand at the same instant the dragon came down, and the timing of it couldn’t have been more fortuitous.
The spear’s tip pierced through the dragon’s unscaled stomach, and with the shaft braced against the ground, the dragon’s own weight forced the weapon deep into its body. It let out a roar of pain that made Mauve’s ears hurt. The tip of the spear was just barely protruding from the dragon’s side, making it clear that the weapon was neatly skewered through it.
“Hurt…!” mumbled the dragon. Mauve stared at it, unsure of whether he’d really just heard it speak. “Hally… Lolo…”
Blood gushed forth, some of it onto Mauve, who was still underneath. He laughed, feeling the warmth of it as it fell onto his naked chest. The dragon tipped over onto its side, flailing slightly before seeming to go unconscious, either from the pain or from the loss of blood.
“You monster,” said Mauve. “This is what you deserve.”
Some of the men had drawn a little closer. Jonah, surprisingly, stood at the front of them, staring at the dragon with open fascination.
“Bring me a pistol!” shouted Mauve. “It’s downed. We can finish it easily.”
“It spoke,” said Jonah. “No… We can’t kill it.”
Mauve spun back around to face the man, staring at him with a mixture of contempt and disbelief.
“We can and we will,” said Mauve. “It’s a monster. It deserves to die.”
“We came here to learn more,” said Jonah. “Mauve, I won’t back down on this! If these creatures, these dragons, can speak… Think of what it could tell us! We could ask it about Krestia! We could ask how far it is to the end of the desert. Or where the dragons come from. Why they’re attacking us, for the world’s sake!”
“No,” said Mauve. “We need to kill it.”
Mauve moved to accept a pistol from one of the soldiers. Jonah pushed his way in between, grabbing Mauve’s arm.
“You’re a fool,” said Jonah. “And I won’t back down on this. I’m a man of science, Mauve. And I see the big picture here.”
“I’m a fool?” snapped Mauve. “It could wake up and kill us all at any second. How do you propose we question it if it decides to do that?”
“We bury it,” said Jonah. “Up to the neck. Then we tie its mouth closed.”
“And how, pray tell, will it speak to us, then?” asked Mauve.
“If you’d been watching it, instead of deep in your bloodlust, you would have seen what I saw,” said Jonah. “The sounds didn’t come from its mouth, but deeper, its lower throat or even stomach. It didn’t move its lips when it spoke, and I suspect it will be able to answer our questions even with its mouth closed.”
Mauve didn’t have an answer for that. The men were already moving to dig the pit, though some of them looked as reluctant and skeptical as Mauve felt.
“Fine,” said Mauve. “Though I doubt this will work. If it kills anyone by escaping, it’s on your head, Jonah.”
“I know.”
“And when we’ve asked it everything we need to know, I’m putting it down,” said Mauve.
CHAPTER 28
Hal was too tired to do much more than
watch as Zoria clamped command bracers into place around his wrists. She whistled as she worked, and held his hand gently, by the fingers, when she was done. Wasting no time, she began leading him forward past the crowd. A few of the gathered elves shouted questions at him, but to their credit, they mostly stayed out of the way.
“My family has a small residence here in Zelnata,” said Zoria. “It’s not quite a hive. Really more of a domicile, in my humble opinion. But we have room for you, master.”
She grinned at him, her face illuminated by light of the crystal lamps as they moved away from the landing strip and onto the city seats. Hal felt nervous and jumpy. A good number of people were still out and about, despite the late hour, and every time someone emerged from an alleyway or opened a door, his muscles would tense up.
I’m not in the Dragongrounds anymore. I won’t be attacked like that, here.
The thought felt forced, and he couldn’t make himself believe it. Someone called out to him from the side, and he clenched his fists reflexively. Turning, he saw a group of very scantily clad elves, both male and female, dancing outside of a garishly lit brothel with hexagonal dancing stages.
“It’s not much further, master,” said Zoria. She flashed a wicked grin at him. “Master. I do believe my term of endearment for you has taken on a certain irony.”
Hal met her gaze, becoming acutely aware of the command bracers on his wrists, and what they meant. Why had he let her put them on him so easily? He’d been tired, but that wasn’t the only reason. He’d been hoping that they were just a ruse, something to make his enslavement seem convincing to anyone who might speculate about why they were so comfortable with each other.
A sinking feeling took hold in his stomach as he acknowledged that it wasn’t the case. Zoria was an elf. She’d tried to take him as a slave once before, under less ideal circumstances. She’d even been his slave, for a short while, up until he’d released her.
“Here we are,” said Zoria. “Try to be quiet, if you can. I have my own room, but my mother and sister are light sleepers, and I’ve only just returned.”
Hal glared at her, finding it hard to control his emotions. He was too tired, and had been through too much. His thoughts were muddled and muted, like the scratches of writing left by a quill running low on ink.
Zoria’s family’s home was a rather modestly sized hexagonal structure with a slanted roof. A high fence ran around the perimeter of it, separating the house and its backyard from the adjacent estates. By eklid standards, it looked rather shabby. One of the crystal lamps to the side of the front door flickered instead of maintaining even illumination, and there were large spots of discoloration in the stone walls.
“I know, it isn’t much,” she said. “But it’s home. And it will do for us, for now.”
She looked at him expectantly, as though waiting for him to nod in agreement. Hal scowled instead, and heard Zoria let out an amused, high pitched laugh.
She led him through the front door. It was dark inside, but she touched a crystal lamp on one of the walls, summoning its light and revealing the features of the space. Hal stood in a large, rather minimalist sitting room, with a six-sided table at the center and doors leading off to other parts of the home.
Directly above it was a sunlight, which showed a patch of stars, at the moment. A staircase ran along the angles of the six walls, up to a small library on the second floor.
“This way,” whispered Zoria. She took him by the hand and led him through the leftmost door. Hal bumped into her as he passed through it. He’d expected a hallway, but the domicile wasn’t large enough for that. Instead, the door led directly to Zoria’s own personal room.
It was a simple space, without much extra adornment. A large bed was set against one wall, the sheets and blankets neatly folded across it. A wooden training mannequin in the corner made Hal do a double take before realizing it was inert, and not a hiding threat. There was a heavy wooden chest, a bookcase, and not much else.
Zoria sat down on the bed, a small, pleased smile set onto her lips. Hal looked at her expectantly, raising his wrists forward.
“Well…” he said. “Are you going to take these off me?”
It was the only question that mattered to him. Zoria didn’t answer immediately, and her hesitation said more than any words could have.
“Zoria!” He shouted at her, his emotions surging. “I can’t stay here! Take these off me! This… this is ridiculous.”
“Shhh!” said Zoria. “You’ll wake up my mother if you keep shouting like that. Keep your voice down!”
Hal felt the magic of the command bracers triggering, and as he opened his mouth to continue speaking, his words came out at just above a whisper.
“I need to get back to the surface!” he said. “You don’t understand. Vrodas… he was with me when I was taken. And Willum, Laurel’s brother, he’s here, too! We all have to escape. And Zoria… Cadrian is working for the enemy. She was lying to me the entire time!”
He paused. Zoria’s expression was more concerned than surprised.
“Master, you’re rambling like a lunatic,” she said.
“I am not rambling!” said Hal. “I… I…”
“I saw everything you went through.” Zoria stood up and walked over to him, placing her hands gently on his chest. “Halrin. I was watching you over the view crystal. The people you had to kill. The woman who died, what was her name again?”
What was her name? I only ever called her Thirty. I never knew her name.
“You’re overtired,” said Zoria. “And you need to rest. To recover from what you’ve been through. That’s the real reason I put these on you.” She tapped a finger on his command bracers.
“I am fine,” said Hal. “I am not a stray dog, Zoria. And I need to move. I need act now, before it’s too late.”
“You need to rest,” said Zoria. “You can sleep in my bed. That’s a command. Sleep until you are fully rested.”
Hal’s legs moved before he had time to consciously consider what he was doing. He walked over to Zoria’s bed, climbed into it, closed his eyes, and fell asleep within a few seconds.
***
The room was filled with light when he awoke. It poured in through a window that took up most of the back wall, showing a view of the backyard and the more heavily populated regions of the city.
Judging from the position of the sun, it was midafternoon. Hal groaned as he sat up, taking stock of his physical memories as his mind scrambled to catch up with all that had happened.
Zoria wasn’t in bed with him. Hal made his way out into the sitting room, which was also empty. He still wore the command bracers, and they were the only thing that stopped him from heading outside to get a better sense of his situation.
The bracers mark me as a slave. How far would I really be able to get?
Instead, Hal climbed the staircase to the second level of the main room. He sat down in a chair and pulled out one of the many books from the bookcase. It was written in the eklid language, and Hal felt long dormant knowledge of their exaggerated letters and script coming back to him as he read the first few lines of the text.
Between the smell of the book and the silence of the house, he could almost convince himself that he was back in Roth’s library. It pained him to think of all that had happened since that peaceful, far-gone time.
His thoughts drifted, and he thought of Thirty. It made him feel a little ashamed that he’d never learned her name, though it had made sense to him at the time. Would he really have been able to kill her, if they’d both made it to the end? No, he doubted he could have. He’d known her as a person and as a woman, and talked to her as a friend.
What of Cadrian, then? She’d lied to him. She’d been the one who’d murdered his family. Would he be able to kill her when he finally had that chance? Hal had spared Aangavar. And even if the dragon had gone on to die, anyway, he’d spared Karnas, Aangavar’s offspring. Could he trust himself to go through with taking revenge
against Cadrian, or would he lose his will, or his nerve?
“Excuse me,” came a voice, from the first level. Hal jumped in his chair, his knees bumping into the table he’d been sitting at.
“Oh!” he said, standing to his feet. “Uh… sorry.”
He wasn’t sure exactly what he was apologizing for. Below him, a woman stood next to the sitting room’s central table. She was tall and thin for an elf, with fine blonde hair and emerald green eyes. She looked young, no older than Zoria, but the way she carried herself and the pensive expression on her face made her seem far, far older.
“Are you hungry?” asked the woman.
Hal nodded. She gestured for him to come down the stairs, and after a moment’s hesitation, he did. He felt like a pet, a stray animal that had been welcomed into a warm home.
No. I feel like a slave.
“My name is Felice,” said the woman. “I am Zoria’s mother, and this is my home. And I offer you a welcome here as a guest. Not as a slave.”
“…Thank you,” said Hal.
Felice gestured for him to take a seat at the table. Hal did, watching her as she disappeared through another door. She wore a loose white gown with leather ties running from chest to neck. She reminded Hal of the matrons back in the Collected Provinces, the women who chose to stay home and tend to their estates, rather than working.
“I am sorry I do not have more to offer you,” said Felice, as she returned. She set a plate in front of him with a slice of thick bread, a few sections of some type of orange fruit, and a small strip of salted meat. “My daughters mostly fend for themselves when it comes to meals outside of supper. I don’t have much on hand beyond what I prepare for dinner each night.”
“This is fine,” said Hal. “It’s more than I’ve had to eat recently.”
The food tasted fine, if a little bland. His stomach did not discriminate, and he realized how hungry he was as he began to take small bites. Felice sat down at the table across from him, her hands folded neatly together. She watched him, letting him eat in a silence that was soothing, rather than tense.
Dawning Ceremony (Sexcraft Chronicles Book 3) Page 16
