“Come here. Please.”
He did as he was told, coming nearer. He was in his robes now, but I knew what he looked like out of them. I knew how strong his arms were when he carried me, and I knew how impossibly gentle he could be with his hands, even though they were twice the size of mine.
“I need your help, Joshan. Lay on my bed with me.”
Without question, he lay beside me. I reached for his hand, bringing it to my lap and pushing it down. Layers of fabric kept him from actually touching me, which was fine – I wanted to access my magic, yes, but I wanted to keep it dulled enough to stretch it long.
“I need you to – yes –“ I said, as he began to rub. Joshan always knew what best to do. And with him touching me at my brightest spot, my legs only open wide enough to let two of his fingers press, I held the book up and stared at it with intent.
My magic didn’t take long to answer him. I could feel it being swirled up with each soft movement he made. I tried to channel it through myself, imagining myself able to read the strange words, summoning visions of light pouring out of my eyes and understanding pouring in.
But nothing happened. I closed my eyes in frustration and let myself move with Joshan instead, my hips rocking their own accord, wanting more than just his subtle touch – and when I opened my eyes again words flickered on the page.
“Stop,” I commanded, pressing my hand on his forearm.
“My Queen,” he said, and waited.
Long moments passed. The magic he’d coaxed up in me held, trembling inside with desire, but the words didn’t change. Had I imagined things?
“Again – but, more slowly.”
He stroked me again, his hand moving beneath mine, rubbing with soft gentle patience. We’d spent hours like this before, over the course of one day, him stoking the fires of my magic only to let the embers cool before stoking them again. It’d been a delicious torture, done as much for pleasure as just to see if we could, how long we could walk down this path together and me still stay Queenly and sane.
I breathed heavy and refocused on the words. “Come to me,” I begged them. “Let my magic make me see.”
My hips rose under Joshan’s hand, my body begging for what my mouth wouldn’t command, and he rubbed me harder but even more slowly. My breath caught and my eyes almost closed, tempted to end this experiment, throw the book across the room and command him to enter me – I knew he was ready, his cock pressed against my thigh – and as if he knew I thought on it, he pulsed his hips against me, one time.
“I want to know,” I told the book and the powers hidden inside me. “I want to see.” My free hand twisted lower to grab at him through the fabric of his robes, and he began to thrust into my hand. “Please,” I begged the book, my slave, my magic. “Please –“ I made the word into a hiss as my magic coiled, ready to spring, and I didn’t have the self-control to order Joshan to stop. “Joshan –“
His hand rubbed me faster, knowing what I needed from frequent practice, and the bed bucked beneath us both as he thrust against me hard. “My Queen,” he whispered, his breath hot in my ear as he answered me.
It was all I could do to hold the book up over us, as my body tensed, the full force of my magic coming on.
“I want to know!” I commanded, and then my magic was upon me. I screamed low to high as it raced through my entire body, emanating out, making me shake uncontrollably in its wake. Joshan still rubbed but his weight was against me, his hips thudding into my hand, his smooth cock stiffening until, with a helpless shout, he relented, following me.
I moaned. Somehow my free hand still held the book up and I looked at it with half-focused eyes, the end of my magic roaring in my ears, as I caught my breath from the force of its passage.
And when I next blinked – or the blink after that – or the blink after that – I could see.
The words on the page didn’t change – but something inside my eyes did, so that I knew what they said. And I read, “The History of Queen Airelle,” as clearly as if it were written on a screen.
“Joshan,” I breathed.
“Yes, my Queen?”
“It worked – it worked!” I sat up in excitement, leaned over to kiss him joyfully, and moments after that I fell back to bed to begin to read.
I was right – it was a book, and I was proud that I had rescued it from the mover. I read through the night and up until dawn as the lilans chimed the passing hours outside.
It told the story of Airelle, a distant-distant Queen. Yzin had never mentioned her in history lessons – and despite the fact that the book purported to be her history, it was easier to believe that it was a convoluted work of fiction, or even a child’s tale, because so much of the story was impossible to believe. She had magic that flowed out of her like fire – she was allowed to leave the palace – she was allowed to lead an army!
There had been no war on Aranda for thousands of years, but fighting seemed to be the only thing Airelle did – there were painstakingly drawn maps on multiple pages that explained where they were fighting, and then other pages explaining why, and how – with weapons I’d never heard of, men mounted on creatures I’d never seen in the Living Hall – the sheer imagination of it as a work was overwhelming.
Each battle was presented without comment, as though it happened every day, all the time. In fact, it seemed like the historian had gone out of his way to make such fascinating subjects dull – which, oddly, made it feel less like fiction as the story unfurled.
A pearl rolled in as I blinked dry eyes and looked up to see Joshan waiting hopefully. I rolled it back to him directly. “Play freely with one another, but leave me be.”
He nodded at this, and set off to find Beza. Soon I heard the sound of their pleasure from not far away – it made me ache, but my curiosity to finish the strange story I was reading was stronger.
The fighting inside the book became more fierce. A distant country – Rix -- joined the war from across the ocean, carrying weapons of metal that no one else could understand. The only thing that seemed to work against them was magic – but magic was in short supply. Airelle couldn’t be on all borders, fighting all battles at once. She was exhausting herself, when her advisors came up with a desperate plan to close Aranda’s borders with a shield from shore to shore. If they could manage that, they thought they would have a chance for their own technology to catch up to match the Rixans.
I slowed as well. Somehow I could believe that she could call storms from the heavens and fire from the wind – but put a shield over all of Aranda? I knew from my lessons Aranda was massive – it couldn’t be done.
Her advisors spoke with her commanders – and the historian finally took the opportunity to describe one of them, briefly. I realized with a combination of excitement and horror that the fighters at the front of each of her battles, the creatures powered by smoke and magic and fierce loyalty – one of whom, if I read between the lines, it appeared that Airelle loved – were Zaibann. The shape of their armor -- the way it was buckled – my jaw dropped. I got out of bed, and raced to my Zaibann’s chamber to compare.
Everything the historian had written was accurate. His hair was back in a knot at his neck and walking around behind him as I had not done since he first arrived, I saw Airelle’s symbol of the sun embossed on the stone armor covering his back.
Stunned, I raced back to my great chamber and threw myself into a couch, opening the book again.
“The dream-cradle waits, my Queen,” Joshan said, bringing in a fresh tray of fruit.
“Not now, Joshan,” I said, waving him off – and then I realized the irony of neglecting my people to read about a Queen who was prepared to give everything for hers. “Soon, though, I promise?” I amended. I was almost done, determined to finish reading quickly.
“Of course, my Queen.” Joshan smiled and nodded, and I found my page before he left the room.
Airelle was quickly married to a Zaibann, Zaan, in an elaborate ceremony – elaborate not
because of the cost or expense, but because of the magic involved – sealing her fate to his. I could tell throughout the course of the book – the history in it spanned at least ten years – that Airelle had always been closest with Zaan, of all her advisors, and the historian – if he could be believed! – was not shy about sharing that fact. He also did not back away either from their wedding night, saying in his dry way that the entire palace shook from the ‘force of their bond’.
But mere days later, the real ceremony began. Whatever members of the army they could spare began digging a vast and deep hole. And when it was finished, the Zaibann flew into it, landing one-by-one, standing in rows of a hundred men each. Airelle kissed Zaan, then stood on the edge of the excavation. She promised him – she promised all of them – that this wasn’t ‘a good-bye, but merely a parting’.
And then, through some combination of her personal power, mirrored and magnified through their own willingness to lend her theirs, the shield was cast – but at great cost. Because inside the pit, every single Zaibann in existence was turned to stone.
And that was the book’s last page.
I twisted it, as though more pages might fall out if I shook it roughly.
“That’s…all?”
I couldn’t believe there wasn’t more. It had felt so real it was like my life – it was better than my life, honestly. I was lost now that it was gone.
Joshan cleared his throat from the hallway. “If I may, my Queen?”
I looked up, and knew what he wanted. I didn’t want to sleep now, but it was time. It was what Airelle would have done, if she were me. “Please, Joshan.”
He crossed the room and lifted me, carrying me to the cradle and settling me gently inside before closing the lid. Its walls started to pulse in colors and I fell asleep inside the cradle with the book over my heart.
Chapter Three
When I woke, I was exhausted. I peeked out, Joshan rescued me, and this time when he offered food I ate everything on the plate. The story I had finished was still rolling in my head just like the pearl – and I wanted to give chase.
I had to know if the book was real – or just another fiction with enough reality to give it bite. The easiest way would be to find the Chamber of the Zaibann with my own eyes. Not my Zaibann’s chamber – but the one where he had come from, where the rest of them were stored. So when Beza returned to my room with a fresh dress for me, I sent her off to pack the three of us meals for our journey.
We traveled in silence down the longest of the halls. I usually told my slaves about the stories I’d read, sometimes even going so far as to read to them myself – but there was something about Airelle’s that made me want to keep it hidden. It didn’t feel like her story – it felt like it was mine.
Which was foolish, and I knew I only thought that because of how quickly I’d devoured the book. Still, though – we’d traveled an hour, me mostly lost in deep thought. I looked around to get my bearings, and found we were near the Map Room – and I had a sudden idea.
“Beza –“ I grabbed her wrist and hauled her into the room. I’d been here before with Yzin, as he lovingly showed me maps of Aranda. It’d been deadly dull, I’d paid attention only to humor him, but now I knew what I was looking for.
I pushed wall after wall of plastiglass covered maps aside, centuries of Arandian history, until I reached the lowest, oldest, ones, where only fragments of their maps remained – and then I turned to my slave girl.
“Kiss me,” I told her, and she nodded, agreeably.
She stepped forward and I wrapped my arms around her, pulling her into me with a fury I did not know I possessed, feeling her body pressed against mine. I felt my magic move inside me – restrained for days of reading and my time in the cradle, it was like a starving urshak, and I could feel it leap forward inside of me. I spun Beza so that she had her back to the map, and I opened my eyes as I ran my hand down the curve of her ass.
A flash of light – could the others see it, or was it only in my mind? -- and then the words on the map reformed, just as the book’s had.
I released Beza slowly. “My Queen,” she whispered, touching her lips with one mystified hand.
“Thank you,” I said, gently moving her out of the way to inspect the document.
Nothing had changed for either of them – they couldn’t read, but they claimed the words still looked the same. After a few hours of willpower and kisses – and me sucking on Joshan’s cock for a time – I felt heady with power, but I still had no direct proof that Airelle’s story was real. Names were similar to the book on the ancient maps, but not precise. The contours of countries had changed with time, and over eons rivers had run dry – but I felt myself getting closer. In the same way that I could feel out the hidden pearl we played with, the one that’s path led to magical things, I believed I could feel out the mystery of Airelle.
And so we left the map room, and continued down into the deep halls.
We walked for an entire day without pausing.
I knew it would be down here, somewhere – if I was going to believe any of the book’s contents, all of it had to be accurate, and we were at the oldest part of the palace. Zoomers still patrolled down here, but even their endless polishing couldn’t change the rough-hewn quality of the walls, or hide the increasing fragility of genuinely ancient art crumbling inside of equally decrepit frames.
This was where it had to be – the book had said the pit was deep, well, we were deep now – and it had to be big enough to hold five thousand men – well, the halls were further spaced, and all of the rooms here more wide.
I’d heard the story about the celestitians choosing my King my whole life, my one-out-of-five-thousand, but I’d never realized the history behind it before. All those Zaibann, trapped inside my palace, waiting endlessly in stone for a rescue that had never come.
I put the book under my arm, held Beza’s hand on one side, Joshan’s on the other, and closed my eyes. The truth was down here somewhere, all I had to do was find it – and I had help.
“Joshan, kiss her.”
My slave stepped forward to do as he was told. I heard Beza’s breath catch as he stepped close to her, pulling her in with his free hand. I imagined him holding her close, his cock rising between them hopefully. I remembered the way he’d tasted in my mouth yesterday, the sweet smell of him, and then other things too – what he could do to me, what he would do to Beza if I commanded him – I opened my eyes to see him merely kissing Beza, but still felt the sharp pain of being left out.
That was what I would draw on now. The statues, if they were here, had been denied for centuries. I would find them by their hunger.
I watched Beza tilt her head so that Joshan could taste the softness of her chin and neck, imagined his breath against my skin, her lips against mine – I felt my power roil in me, and sent it searching.
I stretched my powers thin, pushing through walls in all directions, felt as though I was combing through history itself. I heard Joshan and Beza, and let go of their hands as the sound of their kisses and rough breathing continued. I felt thinner and thinner still, spiraled out almost far enough that I wouldn’t be able to pull myself together again. I reached my limit, I’d never sent so much of myself out before -- and just as I tried to regroup, I felt a pull.
I stumbled to the right, following it until it faded, then looked back at my slaves, who were in the process of disrobing one another. Watching their skin revealed – Joshan’s strong arms stroking across Beza’s smooth back, the way his hands grasped at her hips, picking her up just as he’d picked me up before, to settle her darkness around his stiff cock. I gasped with the memories, and my powers rose inside me, pushing me toward a wall.
It was covered in artwork, portraits of people I didn’t know – I swatted them aside, to clatter to the floor and fall into dust, but behind them, a sigil was revealed. The symbol of the sun – Airelle’s symbol, representing the life she gave to her people.
The sun s
he lived under, that I had never seen.
I threw myself at the door, and to my surprise it gave.
I yelped at falling forward into blackness, then Joshan was there at my side catching me nakedly. “My Queen,” he apologized, as he hauled me back.
“I’m –“ I looked between him and Beza. I felt bad for interrupting them, but I couldn’t stop, I was so close now – “The lights I asked you to bring, where are they?” He nodded and went to retrieve them, along with his clothing. Beza pinned her hair back up with a breathless grin, and I grinned back. If I was right, there would be release and rewards later, for everyone.
The stairs sank and turned, sank and turned. No zoomers came down here, everything was covered in a thick layer of dust. I wondered darkly which councilman had had the honor of polishing my Zaibann’s stone cock off before presenting him to me.
Then we turned again, and suddenly the chamber opened onto a wide pavilion full of armored statuary. Row upon row upon row of warriors. Every single remaining one of Airelle’s Zaibann army.
I stood still for a moment, stunned.
“My Queen?” Joshan asked, looking from the statues back to me.
I ignored him and trotted the rest of the way forward. The light only illuminated the first ten rows or so, but every statue was different. The way they buckled their armor was slightly personalized, varying heights, a head cocked here, an arm raised there.
“Shine your light up,” I said, and pointed. Joshan did so, and illuminated Airelle’s sun symbol with rays blazing on one wall, just where the book had said it would be.
If they were here…then everything in the book was real. I looked down at my hands. I was a Queen too – so where was my power? I threw my arms wide in imitation of her, trying to call lightning down or fire but nothing answered me.
Up until now there’d been the chance that the book was a story, a child’s tale, no, a perversion, a poisonous account from some cruel and enfeebled mind. But now that it was real and everything in it proven true I had no one to blame for my own weakness but me.
The Hated (Sleeping With Monsters Book 3) Page 3
