Temple of Cocidius - Book 2

by Maxx Whittaker

  I dark backward, roll as Gilea spins. I bounce to my feet too soon. Her claws catch me in the back. Agony locks the muscles in my flank. The wound burns with more than physical injury.

  Before I’ve tucked and raised my sword to defend, the icy fire fades along with a throbbing pulse in my meat. Freya. Losing track of the number of times she’s saved me.

  Finna is a thin ribbon, but she’s at least four feet shy of the dome. Nechtan ignores her, still seething, but that’s not helpful. She doesn’t have enough substance left to stretch any higher. She needs a boost.

  I charge into the sunbeam.

  Gilea, on my heels, withers, darts back with a hiss. She swipes into the shaft, shrieking in pain the whole time. I bring my sword up to block, and her claws bounce from me. Her strike is almost powerless.

  Perfect.

  Nechtan grabs for me. His shriveled hand slips on my leather, but his grip is very corporeal. He’s not aware of Finna, but he knows I’m here. But he’s weak, without the fury and anger, or the claws, of Gilea, and I push him from me.

  What little gloom filters in from the massive doors fades, dims to nothing. Mara fill the entrance.

  Finna begins to reform.

  “No! In my hand!” Gilea shrieks from outside the circle, but is more interested in Nechtan, again. She prowls the circle of light, watching him, stalking.

  They’re distracted by each other. This is my only chance.

  I slip my hands beneath Finna, let her pool in my palms and raise her. She bends inside the shaft of light. Her ribbon disappears through the dome’s opening. In seconds, she oozes across the shield-sized disk of light.

  Darkness falls in the chamber. I press back, far back against the wall opposite the door.

  It turns out to be unnecessary.

  Gilea smiles, a rictus grin that I know I’ll dream of for the rest of my life. She knows that this is her revenge, made real. When she strikes at Nechtan, she hits. He moans like the thunder of hell, and collapses. He still has strength, gained when the light faded, and it ripples in the sinew of shrunken limbs. But he’s stunned.

  Gilea doesn’t strike again. She stands, billowing form stretched, and then evaporates, into a black mist that flows toward the waiting mara. They open their mouths, impossibly wide, in perfect unison. They inhale Gilea in long ropes of black mist, sucking it between hideous rings of teeth.

  Yeah. So much for sleep, ever again.

  What is happening? Finna’s voice breaks the disbelief of my thoughts.

  I can’t answer, not even in my head. I don’t have to. The ancient succubi’s spirit is little more than a cloud of fog now. Each mara feeding from Gilea begins to change. Just as I saw in my vision. Blonde hair and red, ebony skin and gold. The women restore, lithe bodies and beautiful, if haunting, faces. Their eyes, though; black and sheened with hate, malice, hunger.

  A mara climbs onto Nechtan’s chest, petite and raven haired, almost beautiful. He half sits, nearly throwing her off. He should hurl her across the room; even in this state his frame is massive by comparison. He falls back and this time his back barely raises from the stone. She hasn’t changed size, but on his next attempt Nechtan can only grunt and writhe beneath the mara, who pins him with impossible weight.

  Gilea is gone now, leaving a temple increasingly packed with disturbingly sensual, hideous creatures. A mara crouched at Nechtan’s feet bends, reclining back on her hands and raising her hips. Her knees are splayed, and I don’t want to look, and I can’t help it. This is so surreal; creatures I’ve heard of as wives’ tales doing the stuff of nightmares to a man who was a nightmare.

  With veed fingers she parts herself. There are no folds, no pink flesh. Beyond the lips is a gaping black hole ringed with sharded teeth just like her mouth. She scrambles, insect-like over Nechtan’s body, forces herself onto him, and then she rides him as she shrieks her victory.

  Nechtan flails beneath the weight of both mara, wheezing. When the one riding him cries out with what I assume is completion - it’s not satisfaction- she slithers off and dissipates, just like Gilea.

  Nechtan visibly shrivels, but still squirms while the mara on his chest keeps her place and another mounts him.

  This will haunt my dreams, and my waking hours, for a long time.

  “Finna,” I whisper. “I don’t think...you can come down.” No beam of sunlight is going to stop or save any creature in the shrine, not now. I hold out my hands. She trickles into my palm, pools and oozes over, taking shape. Her eyes never leave the gruesome scene. “It feels like retribution, but it’s not really justice,” she whispers.

  Another mara slides from Nechtan and vanishes. “But they’re at peace. That’s what they deserve. And this...He was a monster. This is what he deserves.”

  At my words there’s a buckling sound, a clang of ancient gearworks. A seam of light appears at our backs, revealing a hidden door.

  I can’t push it open fast enough, only pausing to let Finna go first.

  This door shuts, thank the gods. We heave it shut, sealing off the gut-churning grunts and shrieks inside. But not the memory of it, not for me.

  -The Great City-

  When stone meets stone, the shrine ripples like a mirage, and vanishes.

  We stand on the cliff. Finna slips her damp hand into mine and squeezes. Sun falls across the surface of an azure lake, burning off the grey mist and erasing the tangle of choking plants.

  Green grass erupts along the shore line, and the mists have cleared. The sun is brilliant, and it’s impossible to believe that I can see to, and beyond, the place I entered this trial. Wildflowers bloom like rainbows and tumble over pond stones to vine the surface of the water. There’s sound, real sound, in the once-terrifying stillness. Songbirds call to one another from the now-lush treetops.

  I have to close my eyes for a second and let my brain reconcile it all before I’m overwhelmed. The scent of roses magnifies, bringing me back.

  Finna looks up at me, nodding, and the impressions of her eyes seem a little more damp than the rest of her. “This is how it should be. How it once was.”

  “Do you want to stay? Can you?” The lake is so pristine that I don’t want to leave. It feels pretty shite to save her realm and then drag her away.

  “No. I don’t think it will ever be...I’ll never forget. But I’ve also never been to the Garden!” Her whole form vibrates. “I’m entirely ready for a new adventure.

  We climb a short slope from where the shrine stood to the city’s edge. Finna stops and gasps.

  I’ve never seen the Great City of Finna’s realm, but I understand her reaction. It’s easy to mark where the buildings once stood, the walls and the public forums. They left impressions in the ground, lines between foundation and cobblestones where grass now rules above the remnants of once-great structures of men. It makes me think of Loria, and how perilously it sits on the edge of a similar fate.

  Only one building stands among a brown weave of eroded streets. ‘Stands’ is a generous term; its two-story columned face and crumbling sidewalls are all that remain, tied together by the brambles of a rose grown over who knows how many hundreds of years. Its waxy green leaves create natural shades over the windows, clinging to broken stones and pediments.

  Finna picks one frilled lavender-colored blossom and presses it into her flesh where her heart would be. She laughs. “I don’t know where he went, but I feel the man in white left me a gift – whether he meant to or not.”

  Purple roses, purple dye. “I think Cocidius has his hands in more things than we realize.”

  Finna hmm’s, rippling beyond the crumbling doorway. She stops. “It’s like he never left.”

  There are signs of life, though how long it’s been since anyone inhabited this place, I can’t say. A silk-canopied bed is partially made up, the rich gold, white, and plum glossy and unfaded. But a wooden table in another corner has rotted and collapsed, tumbling an earthenware jug and a few bowls which have broken to shards.

 
; I check the astratempus. It takes a few moments of staring to realize the hand isn’t moving. Maybe once I’ve beaten the challenge? There’s relief in this knowledge, but also the pressure of knowing another realm waits before the day’s end.

  Finna takes a step forward, hands clasped to her chest. I realize that this is the first time I’ve really looked at her, seen her in anything but dark murk and shade. The purple rose hue of her gel shimmers in the sunlight, and her perfect form is so exotic. I wonder if this is the natural shape she’s chosen for herself, one she reverts to when she’s not deliberately existing as something else. If so, I approve. She is exquisite, still nude, and the lack of definition somehow make her more alluring and innocent, at the same time.

  I remember how she felt when she gloved me, seeped deep inside of me. The intimacy, even if it wasn’t sexual, at the time.

  Or, maybe, it was. A bit.

  The bed suggests itself; I’m not sure how to broach the subject. The others seemed to know from the outset, but Finna hasn’t mentioned her artifact status.

  “So...you mentioned no aspirant had ever beaten your realm?”

  Finna nods, smoothing a hand over the bed curtain, taking in the details of the ruin. “Not one. Not even when my trial came first.”

  “But…” I clear my throat, a sharp sound in the cavernous space. “You know how the trials work.”

  Finna stops exploring the room and turns on me with soft splash. “The aspirant solves the puzzle and we go into the garden. Would you like to go? I’ve explored enough.”

  Even if the answer was yes, there’s still no exit, which is giving me some anxiety. Not the bulk of my anxiety, though.

  “When an aspirant wants to claim...possess...activate-” Coughing, I look at her and just wish she understood, that this moment, of all moments, she could read my thoughts. “To bond we have to…” I’m a bastard, I’ve not always lived the cleanest life, but my mother was the daughter of a duke, good-hearted and cultured, and she managed to pound some decency into my hide. “We have to bond, Finna.”

  Her eyes widen. “We have to what?”

  I toe the floor. Rub my neck. I can’t quite meet her eyes, and the words....I don’t have any. Maybe lake nymphs just scatter goo droplets to procreate, and this is another one of those gross mortal behaviors Freya mentioned. “We have to, to couple. Do you under–”

  She cries out, with disgust, no doubt, and falls onto the bed. Puddles, but quickly – the closest a being like her can get to collapsing. She doesn’t move. I think she’s fainted. This makes me feel extra-despicable for admiring the way her breasts bounce.

  “Finna? Finna, if you don’t– we don’t have to do anything.” I’ll figure out the whole ‘complete artifacts’ arrangement later on.

  She’s still vibrating, her entire body rippling. Oh Gods. I’ve fucked this up, so badly. I...Wait. Is she…

  She’s laughing. She lifts her head, eyes merry.

  “Finna…”

  She raises up, gazing at me down the length of her body. “When I was new, the forest beyond the lake was tended by a dryad. In the night, his eyes were like red jewels, and he smelled like a cedar tree. The other creatures shunned him for the roughness of his bark or tendril branches.” Finna sucks her bottom lip, and it pops free with smack that I can feel right between my legs.

  “We coupled again and again, sometimes for a whole night. When you’re made of primordial ooze…” Finna scoops a dab of goo from between her tits and sucks it from her finger, “A legendary creature with a phallus like a tree trunk is sort of a pleasure.”

  My mouth goes dry at that image. “You were fucking with me. You knew what I meant all along.”

  “Of course I did. But it’s also been so impossible, with the failure of other aspirants – or so repulsive because of other aspirants, that I didn’t give it much thought. And after the swamp...I didn’t know how eager you’d be.”

  Fuck the swamp. Fuck Nechtan’s evil and all his bad decisions. He got what he deserved and hopefully he’s rotting in some hell. But me? I’m here with Finna, and the memory of her form over mine. Wet, thick, clinging.

  The shape of her hair covers her eyes like thick bangs and the ends flip out at her shoulders, drawing attention to how slim they are, how delicate, above tits that jiggle with the impatient tap of her foot.

  “It’s been a long time, Lir. A long time.” Finna spills from the bed and coalesces on her feet, sauntering toward me with a sway of her hips. She stops abruptly an arms-length away. Her nipples pucker, popping free, at the curve of her breasts.

  Oh Heijl, oh Angmar, yes. Yes please. She’s so exotic, this feels forbidden. “Is this pleasurable for you? I’ve only been with mortal, or mostly mortal, women.” She doesn’t seem to have the bits that usually accompany feeling pleasure.

  Finna laughs and caresses my cheek with a damp path of her hand. “This is the part of me that feels pleasure.” Her body ripples.

  “You heard my thoughts, just now…”

  Her smile is sly, accentuating her full bottom lip. “I felt pleasure when you were inside me. When I was inside of you. I felt every inch of you.” Her eyes dart below my belt. “Every. Inch.”

  Her words send blood rushing, and in short order there’s a lot more inches of me. She looks soft and wet, two things I’d kill for right now, and she smells like the roses all around us.

  “Where do...is it the same as other females?”

  Finna backs away and falls on the bed again. Her legs part and the flesh between them is smooth and glossy. Then it ripples, trickles and pours in on itself. She forms the most thick, perfect pussy. “Remember when I said you can stick it anywhere?”

  Fuck, do I. “That was my finger.” It’s all I can think to say, staring at her glistening amethyst folds.

  “I was hoping for more than a finger.” She winks. “And you can stutter and mumble all day, but I’m not ignorant. This may be my realm, but I read the books in the Great Library and I know the ways of other realms. Mortal men are deviant, filthy. Even if you don’t admit it. You men of the Talentless world have tastes…” Her pussy disappears. Finna raises to her elbows and it reforms between her tits. I can feel the eager drops on the tip of my cock, slicking to the inside of my leathers. My hand flies to my belt without a thought.

  She laughs knowingly and scoots up the bed.

  My cock is so hard. I think that every time, and then some erotic fuckery makes it worse. I ache, but I want to explore her, take pleasure in how unique and illicit her form is.

  Finna pats her belly, jiggling it, not looking eager to be explored. “To answer your earlier question,” she breathes as I straddle her, “What a mortal woman feels between her legs I can feel with any part of my body. Any.”

  There’s a soft squish when I rest my weight on her. Finna is slim and shapely, but the sound reminds me of dairy maids who would sneak into the university garden at night, soft bellied and thick thighed, flesh smacking with hands on their ankles and skirts up over their backs. A lot of farmer’s daughters were impregnated by incubi around the university.

  Her flesh clings to me, sucking like tentacles and gloving my inner thighs.

  “Your whole body feels it?”

  Her eyes half close. “Mmhm.”

  Bending my head to the pussy between her breasts, I drag my tongue up her pale purple mound. She tastes like sweet spring water and roses and spicy green plants. She shudders beneath the tip of my tongue and a moan vibrates through her.

  This time I push. Her body has a tensile quality, resistance, but after I plunge my tongue into her hole a few times, Finna loses cohesion. My cock thrusts, pushing through into her lower belly. “Lir...Lir…” She ripples, and moans just as loud as before.

  Her pussy is delicious, and so different. The shape, the look of it, is right, but the taste and feel are unlike anything I’ve ever experienced. I run my tongue along her in long, slow licks, slowing when I reach her clit. I suck at it as I pull away, she moans, sh
udders, sending ripples along her entire body.

  My cock thickens inside of her.

  I continue licking, but suddenly, everywhere I put my tongue is her clit. I bring it low, and feel her tiny bud, and her wet hands in my hair tighten. I move it up, way up, and when my tongue darts out, her sheathed clit is there. She whimpers.

  “Are you…Moving it?”

  Yes. Gods, yes.

  I don’t argue. I flick, quickly, and her bud emerges. I suck at it again, licking my tongue between puckered lips as she writhes and flows on the bed, and then she cries out. Her body ebbs and recedes like the tide as she cums, and when I pull away, a piece of her stays with me, on my tongue.

  On impulse, I swallow it.

  Her grin is wicked. “I’m getting that back.”

  “I can’t wait for you to try.” I give her one last lick.

  Her hand smacks my forehead with a wet sound and she shoves my head away. Finna cups her tits holds them apart. A trickle of goo runs from the pussy between them, down her belly. It disappears between her thighs.

  “I want to feel you,” she murmurs, rolling her nipples, absorbing and reforming them. She slicks a fingertip between her tits, playing with a quivering clit.

  I grasp my cock and tease her with it. She’s like nothing I’ve ever felt, wet and firm, slick and yielding beneath. And the whole time I slide my head up and down, her flesh flows up mine a little. It sticks to me, gripping.

  Finna arches without warning, burying me inside.

  She whimpers, an animal gurgle, and her eyes roll back in ecstasy.

  “Fuck. Did you-?”

  “Oh. Ohh yes. And I’m- I’m…”

  She wriggles beneath me, eager, but I’m caught up in the sight of my cock through her translucent body. She convulses against my shaft, works it on gelatinous ripples. Finna licks her lips. “I can taste you like this.”

  “Really?”

  “Mmhm. Just a little, but your cock, the drops of salt you leave inside me…” Her eyes roll back again.

  I thrust into her, mesmerized by the jiggle of her, the blurred silhouette of my cock, and how her body changes. Before, there was a barrier, a thickness to her outer flesh. When I cup her tits, clutching them around my shaft, small globs cling each time I withdraw. There’s something about being covered in the woman I’m fucking that’s so amazing.