“What?” Meg asked.
Liam was too busy yanking on the zipper of his fanny pack. The smoothly machined metal answered well to his fingers and his grip, and soon, he had his iPod out. Despite being splashed with water and bashed around, the hardened case and the fanny pack and the zip lock bag had all done exactly what they had been designed to do. His iPod was safe.
“What is that?” Meg asked, frowning as she prodded at it with her finger. “Some kind of idol? Fetish? Sex toy?”
“It is the Library of Alexandria,” Liam said.
“The Great Library? That holds the entirety of Aristotle? Plato? Socrates?”
Meg looked skeptical, and Liam figured that he couldn’t blame her. He tapped the iPod on and waited for it to boot up. Part of his brain was gibbering about wasting batteries - but she needed to know how vital this was. He brought up his Kindle app with a tap or two, then showed her words. He flipped past page after page of historical textbooks, showing her maps and diagrams and formula. Liam had books on metallurgy and history and science. And, well, more than a few dozen space operas, alternate histories, and fantasy epics.
But even those were useful - his mind went to After the Downfall by Harry Turtledove. In it, a man cast into a fantasy world recreated gunpowder. Those passages would come in handy...
Meg looked from his iPod to his face. In those electric blue eyes, Liam saw awe. It wasn't the worshipful awe that came from a good hard fuck, or the awe that he was sure he felt when faced with God and his majesty. It was an awe that was, in some ways, a bit more intimidating. Meg was in awe of what his people could do – and she was jealous. She stepped closer and whispered.
“You carry in your hands something more important than any message of peace,” she said. “We cannot let this be destroyed.” Her hand went to the iPod, gently touching it with her fingers. “I'm a messenger, but – as you may have noticed – I also do enjoy a debate or two.” Her lips quirked in a slight smile, her awe vanishing under her normal attitude.
“I've been completely oblivious,” Liam said, wryly. He quickly turned the iPod off. Batteries and all that.
“Well, then, we should at the very least begin talking about the Platonic Forms,” she said, coughing and assuming a lecturing tone of voice. She reached up and adjusted the lines of her toga. “I believe that when the Great Philosopher posits that the entire universe is nothing but a Shadow, he is in truth referring to—”
Liam groaned audibly. “Please, kill me.”
Meg grinned at him and spent the next hour grinding him into philosophical dirt.
Four
The sun did not set. In retrospect, this shouldn't have been quite as shocking as it was, but Liam still found himself stumbling as the sun blinked on, then off, then plunged into near total blackness. He clutched at Meg's arm with his good arm, his broken arm bouncing against his chest as he tottered on his feet.
“Whoa, whoa, calm down!” Meg said, her hand on his shoulder.
Liam gasped quietly, the fear from the sudden darkness replaced by the intense pain of joggling his arm. He closed his eyes and shook his head until he could speak without screaming.
“What happened?”
“Night?” Meg said, sounding confused. Then, chagrined. “Ah, right. You're from Earth, where the sun sets, right?”
Liam nodded. He looked up at the sky then – and for the first time since he had arrived on Purgatory, looking up at that vastness didn't make him feel a faint tug of vertigo. It no longer looked like distant mountains and forests and oceans about to fall on his head. Instead, he could see a smattering of splotches of light – the light of thousands of campfires, burning up there. It was almost like a starry night sky. And then, over the course of a minute, the sun started to glow again. Now, it was a silvery white orb, providing a pale luminescence that made the entire world look as if it had been bathed in moonlight.
“I like it,” Liam said, smiling. “You know, you have a very pretty planet here, Meg.”
Meg chuckled. “I am fond of it.” She sighed. “We're nowhere near one of the exits. I think we should set up camp.” She scratched the bottom of her chin, looking thoughtful. “Or, alternatively, we can keep going.”
Liam closed his eyes and took a moment to just catalog his aches and his pains. He wasn't unused to long hikes, nor even to the dull throb of having a broken bone. But Purgatory took everything that he was used too and cranked it up to the next level. He shook his head.
“I'm ready to rest.”
The two of them worked together to set up the camp. Meg used her knowledge of local plantlife to gather up a few flowers that glowed brightly when they were snapped off their stems and set them around the camp, while Liam carefully propped his sword against his shoulder, braced, and then started to hold up rocks that might be flint. He wasn't feeling confident enough in any of his choices – and the last thing he wanted to do was damage the biggest and best tool he had in this savage, violent world – so when Meg walked over and asked him what he was doing, Liam felt honestly relieved when he explained that he wasn't entirely sure.
Meg solved the situation by spreading her arms. “Do we need a fire? It is a warm night and the glowplants are providing enough light.”
Liam blinked slowly. His brain crunched through the rational, and he felt like ten kinds of idiot when fatigue parted before the obvious answer: We're not in Europe. We can survive without a fire just fine. He laid slowly on his unwounded side, then rolled onto his back and enjoyed the softness of the grass as he closed his eyes.
“See?” he said. “Told you I needed a rest.”
Meg chuckled throatily. Her finger traced his hair and she sighed quietly. “You complain less than most men I've had to travel with. I do like that you at least try and set up the camp. Next, you're going to try and cook breakfast for me in the morning, aren't you?”
Liam snorted. “We don't have breakfast to cook. And if you want to go hunting, find someone armed with something better than a longsword.”
Meg laughed quietly. “Don't worry. I used to sling hunt when I was younger – I can get some tasties on the head. Or we can just pick and forage. Finding food won't be hard.” She paused for a moment. “But you would, wouldn't you?”
Liam groaned, opening one eye. “What?”
“Make me breakfast,” Meg said, smiling. “And not once complain about it being woman's work?”
Liam snorted and closed his eye again. “According to the histories I've read, the idea of woman's work and man's work is not nearly as universal as some societies assume.”
“True,” Meg said, and he could tell that she was smiling by the tone of her voice. “In the lands of the Pesdjeti, women are required by law to be paid the same as men.”
“Better than America.”
Meg leaned forward. She pressed her cheek against Liam's belly and despite the way that this jarred his arm, he felt comfort radiate from the contact point of her cheek and his belly. He sighed and reached up with his good hand to pet her hair slowly. He worked his fingers through her curls and felt her lips kiss against his belly. Her tongue darted out and he felt her trace the line of his abs. Liam squirmed ever so slightly – and managed to not jar his broken arm against anything. For that, he felt fortunate.
“Tell me about your world, Liam,” she said, quietly.
“You're the same kind of tired as I am, aren't you?” Liam asked, opening his eyes to look at the silvery night-time-sun that hung overhead. He swore that, beyond it, he could see an entire fleet on sail, their prows lit by flickering torches on their decks. It looked like a triangular swarm of fireflies pressed against the ocean that was plastered onto the roof of the sky. “Too tired to move. Too tired to sleep.”
“Mmhmm,” Meg said. “Bore me with kings and emperors and begets until I pass out.”
“All right then,” Liam said, stroking her hair. “I come from a place called the United States of America. We're a confederation of states that is held underneath a fed
eral government, ruled by an elected representative republic.”
“Ah, like Athens?” Meg asked.
“Yeah.” Liam tweaked her hair gently. “But women can vote. And non-land-owners. And our last President was black. So that's kind of cool.”
“Ah, he was an urr-elf?”
“No, he was human. Just darker skinned.”
Meg snorted quietly. “In New Athens, they claim a democracy. Really, it's more of a pentacosiomedimnioism.” She chuckled. “My grammar tutor would whip my ass for that neologism. But basically, the landowners run everything – and the landowners have the best land, so they give the best sacrifices to Apollo, so Apollo makes sure that they have the best land. Vicious cycle.”
“Funny.” Liam shook his head. “Seems like the more things change, the more they stay the same.”
“Mmmhmm.” Meg kissed his belly. Then she kissed him again. And again. Her lips started to trace a smoldering, moist trail along his belly, moving closer and closer to the hem of his jeans. Liam shifted – but was unwilling to try and stop her. Stop this near literal angel from giving him a blowjob? He'd have to have been out of his mind. And that was even before considering she could bend bronze with her bare hands. Instead, Liam gently shifted his arm to try and keep his broken bone from getting jostled.
Meg's teeth found the button that fastened Liam's jeans shut. She popped it open with a jerk of her head and coohed, breathing in. “You're so clean,” she murmured – a shocking thing to hear after a day of stamping through the jungles. “And I forgot to mention...” She pushed his pants down now – using her hands and her teeth at the same time. “Mmm!” She released the band of his underwear. “I love the shaving. Only the followers of the Pesedjeti shave – and usually just their heads.” She chortled, then kissed the area right above his cock. His member thrust into the air, curving to touch her cheek. Pre welled from his tip and Liam groaned softly.
Meg pressed her nose to him and breathed in his smell. “Mmm!”
She opened her mouth and, with a single motion, took him into her throat. Her lips caressed his cock and then pressed to his hips as her hand reached around to fondle and squeeze his balls – her fingers were gentle, and yet still quite firm. She bobbed her head immediately, her head slipping up and down in the slowly fading light of the glowplants – it shone off her golden hair and made Liam's heart skip almost as much as the pleasure that tingled through him. He panted softly, his hand squeezing her hair, fingers tugging. She groaned and the vibrations buzzed through his cock.
“Fuck.” His hand clenched tighter and Meg slid her mouth back, panting. She shifted forward and Liam had no idea what she was doing until he saw her toga slipping aside. Her bare, milky white flesh gleamed under the fading light. She looked as if she had been oiled and Liam felt himself almost paralyzed with eroticism. Then she planted her elbows on the grass beside his hip and pressed her breasts together – the soft mounds closing around his cock and squeezing it in a tunnel of flesh. She leaned forward and kissed the head of his cock messily. Her spittle and her sweat and his own arousal mixed as she rocked forward, then back, tightening her hands around her breasts as she jerked him off with her tits.
“Like that?” she murmured.
“Oh God!” Liam gasped. “Oh Jesus.”
“That will never not be weird to hear,” Meg said, her voice amused, electric blue eyes dancing as she leaned forward to suck on the tip of his cock, slurping on him every time her breasts slipped down to reveal more of him. The wet noise of it rang in Liam's ear as he tensed and tried to not buck. If he bucked, his elbow hit the ground. If his elbow hit the ground, well…
Meg hummed. The vibration buzzed through him and Liam bucked his hips.
Pleasure.
His elbow smashed into the ground. Bone clicked.
Pain.
“Fuuuuuuuuuuuck!” he screamed, even as cum spurted from the tip of his cock. It splashed against Meg's face and coated the upper cleft of her breasts. She, though, looked anything but pleased. She jerked back, her eyes wide as she looked down at Liam.
“By the gods,” she whispered. “A-Are you okay?” Her eyes were wide as saucers.
Liam panted.
He got his heart under control.
He closed his eyes and he counted till ten.
Finally, when he felt like he could speak, he opened his mouth and said: “Worth it.”
***
The next morning did not dawn – another thing that Liam would need to get used to. Rather than being woken by the slow shading of darkness to light, he was slapped in the face by the brightness of the sun, blazing into full noon with a single furious moment. He grunted and started to sit up but then a powerful wing smacked him in the face and he jerked back to the ground. His arm didn't get whacked against anything.
Thank God for small mercies.
Meg slipped into the river to wash off the night's sweat – and any cum she'd failed to lick off her own skin – and Liam took stock of the situation. His arm didn't feel particularly worse or better than it had yesterday. He was still not sure what they would do if they ran into more soldiers. His stomach growled, and he did the first thing that he had been taught while hiking. If you don't know when your next meal would be, fill up on water. He cupped his palm in the water and drank and drank.
Meg burst from under the blue water, her hair flipping back behind her head – darkened to a near brunette by the water – and lifting her hands to brush them through her mane. Her wings spread behind her as her full, perky breasts bounced above the water. The sunlight glittered as it bounced off the water droplets that clung to her skin. A single droplet dripped from her left nipple, accentuating its puffy hardness. It gleamed like a diamond as it dropped into the water.
Liam knelt there, his broken arm held to his chest, his other palm cupped before his mouth, every bit of water he had scooped up already fading into the grass beneath him.
Meg smirked and walked towards him, surging out of her water. She stood so the cleft of her feathered pussy was right before his nose then reached down. She caressed her head and murmured something in the Latin that they spoke on Purgatory. Liam didn't understand a word of it and for the moment, he didn't care. Instead, he grabbed her heart shaped ass with one hand, slapping it and dragging her close. He pressed his tongue to her sex and just licked her, from base to clit. Meg moaned sweetly, her wings fanning out as she hooked one leg over his shoulder, the ball of her foot caressing his back. She stood mostly on her own weight and took this as her due by everything Liam could tell.
His tongue delved into her sex and coiled up to caress her G-spot. Meg moaned loudly and spoke in her flowing Latin – and Liam felt like he knew what she was saying. If it wasn't: And I didn't even need to ask you to eat me out, then he would eat his own hat. After buying a new hat, as he owned no hats on Purgatory.
He wasn't entirely sure how men on Purgatory could resist doing this, if every woman tasted like Meg did.
But misogyny never seemed to need to make sense.
“-eus' cock, you're good at this!” Meg gasped, her voice becoming English part-way through her exclamation. “Oh gods, how do women on your world get anything done.”
Liam slapped her ass in lieu of taking his tongue out of her sex. Meg gasped, bucking her hips against his face. The foot pressed to his back tensed and he felt her toes spreading against his back ever so slightly as she went slack, her wings beating once to keep her from falling flat on her ass – or knocking him ass over tip. Her juices bust in his mouth and Liam drank his fill. When Meg stepped away, she was panting shakily.
“Needed to refresh the spell?” Liam asked, wiping his mouth one handed then licking his fingers clean with a wicked smile.
“What? No,” Meg said, her breath coming in slow, steady gasps. “I just figured that if you couldn't understand me, you wouldn't try and stop me from making you eat me out.”
Liam blinked. “I like eating girls out.”
“Yours are a wis
e people,” Meg said, her lips twisted in a wry smile. “You have much to teach us.”
Liam and Meg dressed – with only a few additional kisses and gropes and the occasional spank exchanged between them – and were on the way. Meg used a chunk of Liam's belt – his jeans were tight enough that he didn't miss it – and some string fished out of her own belt pouch to craft a rudimentary sling. She tested it a few times, slinging rocks against the river as they walked.
“Now,” she said, loosing her sling and sending a rock thudding into the water with the same sound as a bullet striking some ballistic jello. “We just need to find something worth using it on.”
Liam nodded and was about to respond when an ear piercing scream echoed from the canyon wall – not that far ahead. Liam broke into a run – then slowed to a careful jog, wincing as his arm bounced against his chest. Meg matched his pace as they found, at long last, one of the exits that they had been looking for.
And, because life was never easy in Purgatory, it happened to be occupied by two of Aries' soldiers.
The two men were both dressed in significantly less armor than they had worn yesterday. It seemed easy access to shade had led to them taking off their horse hair helmets and their legging and shoulder pads. Instead, all they wore were their bronze breastplates and leather kilts, leaving the rest of their bodies exposed. One of them was an elf and the other looked like a human, but for all Liam knew, he was some kind of near-human species that could bleed acid.
The two had taken shelter in a cleft that had been cut into the side of the perfectly straight canyon, sculpted and shaped into a switch-back set of stairs, narrow enough that two men could stand abreast and protect the whole place. The vegetation that grew along the walls of the canyon had concealed the narrow entrance until Liam and Meg were right on it – and they had concealed the small, green figure that the elf was holding up with both hands, his spear leaned against the wall. His hands cupped and squeezed the green figure's chest and Liam realized that wasn't a child.
The Murder Stroke (Purgatory Wars Book 1) Page 6
