September 22, 2010
The Warlord.
Nathan closed the heavy door and, in a fit of paranoia that bordered on rude, sealed it to the wall. Shaking slightly, he slumped against it, one hand over his eyes. “I never thought I’d actually miss door locks.”
“Hm.”
Nathan did not spin around. He just turned with alacrity.
The siren warrior lounging on his bed flashed him a broad grin. “Had a bad day?”
Nathan managed one hell of a glare without so much as twitching a muscle. He was not in the mood to deal with more siren allure. Bad enough that they kept giving him the runaround when it came to the whereabouts of their leader.
Nikias huffed out a laugh and jumped lightly to his feet. Before Nathan could move, he was effectively cornered, unless he felt up to walking through walls.
He didn’t.
The siren was exactly as tall as he was, Nathan noted. Nikias was also looking at him. Intently. Like hawks do, Nathan said, feeling an inane urge to giggle.
Really, siren allure was extremely distracting.
The siren was going out of his way not to touch him.
Something was wrong.
Nathan’s hand snapped up, closing on his watcher’s wrist.
Almost.
The siren had managed to dodge, and Nathan’s fingers brushed just barely over a sleeve, and he caught a brief flash -
- of overwhelming wind.
He forced himself to stand up straight and stared at Nikias, who was still too close, and still watching.
Neither moved. Neither looked away.
….Until the siren exhaled explosively, diffusing the illusion. He grinned wryly, metal-cutting teeth almost darker than his skin.
An entirely different emotion sparked in Nathan’s eyes. “Warlord Ekion,” he said, bowing. “Your people said you were out these last few weeks.”
New Assignment.
“Oh,” Nathan said from behind Yet Another Massive Tome of Forbidden Lore, “I got my new posting today.”
I paused in my stirring. There was an undercurrent of amusement in his voice, which never bodes well for anyone. “Where to this time?” I asked, turning to face him.
He didn’t look up from his book. “You might want to keep stirring that soup,” he suggested absently.
…I love my husband dearly, but he’s an ass. Brandishing the wooden spoon at him, I asked, again, “Where to?”
This time he did look up, gold eyes glittering with suppressed laughter. “Purgatory. Nothing big.”
…Wait, what? “Purgatory?!“ I spluttered.
“Mmhm.”
“As in, the city whose entire society is set up as one elaborate sadomasochistic orgy? Where you can’t get in except as a participant, and can’t leave until you’ve passed through all the stages and gained citizenship? That Purgatory?”
Oh, Nathan was definitely laughing now. Probably not obviously enough that anyone else would notice, but still. “Do you know of another Purgatory?”
“Smart ass. You know what I meant. How, exactly, are we meant to get in there?”
“Believe it or not, they do let ambassadors in.”
“…I’m not an ambassador. I’m your guard. And you’re legally forbidden to leave me behind, you know.”
“I know.” He turned another page.
“So how exactly are you planning on getting me in? Or did the governor give you permission to bring a companion?”
Nathan looked at me over the top of the book, eyes crinkling in a barely-suppressed smile. “Something like that.”
I tapped the back of the spoon with one talon. “Still waiting for an elaboration…”
Nathan didn’t blink, but he held the book even closer to his face. I did blink. That smile wasn’t being suppressed at all.
“…Well?” My talon was gouging the wood of the spoon.
The smile widened. Oh, shit, I’m not going to like this…
“…I can get you in as a sex slave…”
“WHAT?!” I flailed, and the spoon went flying into something behind me.
Still hiding a grin, Nathan said, “The soup’s boiled over.”
Damn the soup. “Damn the soup,” I said. “I want to hear more about this crazy plan of yours. How, exactly, do you plan to get me in, now? The only people who can bring in outsiders like that are citizens.”
Nathan buried his nose in his damned (possibly literally) book. I snatched it out of his hands, and dropped it before it bit me.
It wasn’t a grin on his face. It was a leer, and it was extremely disturbing. He grabbed one of my hands before I could slip away, and his leer widened.
This is getting really creepy, I thought.
“Sorry,” he said, trying to swallow the expression. He failed. “But I can set your mind at ease in one respect.” He rubbed my knuckles lightly with his thumb, ducking his head in a (futile) attempt to hide his face. “Do you really think I’d let anyone else bring you into that city?”
I narrowed my eyes. “You’re not a citizen of Purgatory.”
He was grinning widely enough to show his fangs. “Who says?” he asked, and he flicked his free hand over the nape of his neck. A glamor I’d never noticed before faded, revealing the small, unfading tattoo that marked all citizens of the city in question.
Dumbfounded, I ran one talon over the sigil, provoking a shiver. “When?” I asked.
Nathan sat up straight, his face back to its usual expression. “Wildcard training gets interesting,” he said.
I turned back to the stove, abruptly noticing the impressive mess the ignored soup had made. “Er…”
I glanced back at Nathan. His eyes still practically glowed with not-so-repressed amusement. “Should we go out for dinner?” I asked somewhat sheepishly, reaching for the towels.
“Sure,” Nathan said, picking up his book. Then, oh-so-casually, “Let me go get your collar.”
I dropped my head into my hands. No one will ever let me live this down…
I grinned.
Bridging the Gap.
They stopped at the end of the bridge and stared.
“This is getting ridiculous,” Jetta snapped. “Of course we just happen to run across the Grand Canyon’s long-lost cousin, and of course the only way across it is some rickety bridge.”
“You wanna go back?” Kathleen asked, glaring at the doctor.
“Will it even hold our weight?” Jetta retorted.
It was a fair question, Beowulf thought as he knelt to examine the wooden planks. They really didn’t look stable. A faint rustle caught Beowulf’s attention, and he turned to see Nathan -
- Who was watching Jacob.
Who was approaching the really-horribly-cliched bridge with studied nonchalance. He stepped onto the end, and the resultant protest of aged wood was enough to end the burgeoning argument behind him.
“Uh, Jacob?” Kathleen reached out to pull her former student back.
He turned to look at her, strange magic rippling around the edges of his contacts. “If it holds my weight, it’ll hold all of you.” That said, he slipped off his gloves and casually strolled out over the canyon.
He got a little over a third of the way when the whole bridge splintered apart.
Jacob Carter plummeted like a stone.
- And massive tentacles erupted out of the canyon not ten seconds later, twining around outcroppings, the posts that had formerly anchored the bridge, and half the trees … on both sides of the gap. The eldritch-horror-usually-known-as-Jacob levered himself onto the opposing wall, then beckoned to the others with one shy pseudopod.
Jetta and Kathleen looked at each other. “That works,” the professor said.
Love Bite.
Nathan walked over to Ekion and, in a rare display of affection, rested his head on his husband’s shoulder. Ekion pulled him into a loose embrace and flinched a split second before Nathan sank his fangs into his flesh.
Teleika’s eyebrows shot up. Jetta grinned, and Lia started cackling.
“I thought I broke him of that habit,” she said.
Nathan opened his eyes and stared at his mother, his teeth still buried in Ekion’s shoulder.
Lia grinned back at him, entirely unperturbed. “You were what, six, before you stopped greeting everyone you liked with the biggest bite you could muster? You even told me once that kisses were for wimps who lacked decent teeth.”
“If you’ve got ‘em, use ‘em,” Teleika remarked absently as she watched Ekion’s attempts to pry his husband off grow less and less subtle.
“Oh, he does,” the guardsman remarked, then blushed.
Nathan grinned against his shoulder.
Doppelgangers.
“Oh, is it the old ‘I just looked away for a second’ routine again?”
“What do you mean, ‘again’? And no, that wasn’t what I was going to say at all. Do you have any notion how hard it is to keep track of someone who can walk through walls?”
“Let me think of how to phrase this… YES.“
“Your ward is sane. He hardly counts.”
“Arguably. Are you looking, or are you just gonna stand here and make excuses?”
“I can’t see on the wind, so maybe you should shut up and help if you’re going to help me.”
“I could just leave.”
“Oh, sure, and leave your ward behind, too. I’d like to see you explain that to him when he shows up again.”
“Hey-”
“Not really a recipe for marital bliss, that.”
“You-”
“At least I’m not married to my ward. Does the phrase ‘conflict of interest’ ring a bell?”
“Not like not being married makes any difference…”
“…What?”
“Never mind. Are you bothering to look at all or what?”
“I told you…”
“Yes, yes. Well?”
“I already checked the rooms, I told you that! I can’t see them if they’re hiding in the walls!“
“I see you two are getting along splendidly.”
“….”
“….”
“Where’ve you been?”
“Keeping an eye on my scapegrace doppelganger. Where else?”
“You didn’t think to, oh, leave a note?“
“Did you need one?”
[snickering]
“Shut up, Victor. It would’ve helped, is all I’m saying.”
“So where is Yehon, anyway?”
“He’s been in the wall behind you for the past twenty minutes.”
“…Thanks for telling me.”
“You’re welcome.”
[some scuffling, and incoherent threats, and the sound of someone being dragged off bodily]
“…Was I ever that bad?”
“Yes.”
“Thanks. I don’t remember you ever pulling a stunt like that, though.”
“What, hiding in the walls so I could stare at your ass?”
“Yes.”
“Hm.”
“Nathan…”
“Well, not just your ass.”
“Nathan.”
“No need to get embarrassed. It’s a very nice ass.”
“Why, you-”
“I could take my clothes off, and you could ogle me if you like.”
“You do this on purpose, don’t you?”
“Hm?”
“…Never mind.”
Not Another Bad Advice Column.
ASK ANYTHING
the weekly advice column
So I’m in love with this woman, right? And I know she likes me as a friend – I’m like the only person she hangs around with at all - but how can I tell her I’m looking for more? I mean, I don’t want to ruin our relationship or anything.
–Lonely in Wallachia
Dear Lonely,
She’s been into women longer than you’ve been alive. Did it ever occur to you that taking you with her on impalements was supposed to be suggestive? Just kiss her already.
HELP! My boss is nuts!
–Freaked Out in Arkham
Dear Freak,
You just figured this out? You know she knows you wrote this, right?
If you want a new job, there’s an opening in Antarctica.
Oh. Wait.
This is totally un-PC, but I don’t know what my roommate is and it’s freaking me out, especially since I think he (she? it?) is hitting on me.
–The Thing Formerly Outside the Window
Dear Thing,
Given the number of things of all kinds you’ve slept with, I don’t think it really matters, does it? If it really is bothering you and your roomie won’t give you a straight answer (and he won’t), try hiding all his clothes next time he’s in the shower.
Then you get to see whether you’re immune to his maddening flute or not.
Help! My husband’s begun writing really snarky advice columns on the sly, and his coworkers are starting to get suspicious. What do I say?
–Your Loving Spouse
Dearest husband,
I can’t believe my editor let your letter run. Please tell me you didn’t bribe him with our retirement savings…
On the Ship.
Smooth as butter, the ship slipped out of the harbor and onto the open ocean. Caravaner magic, I thought, grinning. Or mariner magic, I guess.
I glanced at Nathan. He was, typically, staring out at the waves. “How long to the Horn?” I asked.
“Couple’a days,” said someone behind me.
It’s not often someone sneaks up on me, but he was downwind and sea breezes are too salt-laden to carry much. I turned to find a crewman behind me.
“The night navigator,” he said, offering a hand, green snake eyes sharp. Mariners more than anyone are reticent about giving out their names, and that apparently suited him just fine.
He looked Iberian, probably from the Gates, weatherbeaten and scarred. Older than Nathan, but I’m not that good at judging human ages, and there was the added complication of the navigator being rather clearly not fully human. His grip was firm, though, and his stance solid, and in that he reminded me more of Nathan than anyone else I knew.
Well, Nathan on land. He still hadn’t taken his eyes off the sea, and was convulsively gripping the rail.
The navigator, clearly, had noticed. “He okay? Or does he need some ginger?”
“I’m fine,” Nathan said, sharp like he never is except off land.
“He’s not seasick, exactly,” I said. “He’s half landwight.”
One eyebrow quirked up, but the navigator kept silent.
The ship tossed, hit by a wave even mariner magics couldn’t ease entirely, and Nathan’s hands tightened convulsively.
And the navigator, just as I was working myself up to apologize for my ward’s splintering of the railing, tapped up a charm on the underside of the beam. “‘Ll last to the Horn,” he said, shooting me a quick, gap-toothed smile. “‘S an ironwood beat.” And he was gone, moving with deceptive solidity.
I turned back to Nathan, who’d finally torn his gaze away from the sea and was watching the navigator’s progress, slit-eyed, over his shoulder. He turned his sulfurous stare on me.
“Don’t ask me,” I said. “He came out of nowhere.”
Babysitting the Niece.
Nathan Thaziazhsta walked down the hall, coffee cup in one hand and niece slung under the other arm.
“Babysitting again?” Ekion asked, poking his head around the doorframe.
“Mm,” Nathan replied, not entirely coherent.
Lith kicked vaguely, just to feel her legs swing, and went back to messing with the cube puzzle, gold eyes intent on the colored squares. A little bit of tongue poked out of the corner of her mouth.
Ekion’s own mouth quirked at the sight. “You do realize your niece is four, and a morning person, and is entirely able to walk by herself?”
Lith beamed at him and kicked at the air again, and went back to her puzzle. Ekion was half convinced she was trying to mess it up further.
Nathan sent a blank look in his direction, set his mug delicately on the table, and promptly dropped his niece on her feet. Lith staggered, shot him a consternated glare that was vintage Teleika, and brandished the cube at him.
Almost on autopilot, Nathan took the puzzle and began twisting it randomly. Lith looked at Ekion, Ekion looked back at Lith, and they both shrugged.
“Got any other puzzles you were working on?” he asked, but Lith was already crawling under the bench, scooting along like only a preschooler can manage.
There came a muffled “Ha!” and moments later a dusty redhead came crawling out the far side of the bench, a battered box in hand. Ekion stifled a laugh and snagged the puzzle, setting it up and watching in amusement as Lith clambered to her feet and batted futilely at the dust bunnies clinging to her hair and shirt.
The puzzle Lith had pulled out was one of those evil three-dimensional ones with something like a thousand pieces. “It could be worse,” Nathan said absently, not even looking up from the cube. Ekion turned to stare at him. “There’s a time-dimensioned puzzle down there somewhere…”
Lith perked up and made to dive for the bench again, but Ekion snagged her sleeve. “Give me a chance to wake up first, okay?”
Lith graced him with a solemn stare that made her look like a startled emu, and Ekion couldn’t quite suppress the laugh completely this time. She said “‘Kay” and squirmed up into her seat just as Nathan noted, “You sound like a dying octopus.”
Lith gave her uncle a look that said far more than any words, and with great deliberation tipped out all the puzzle pieces.
“Quite right,” Ekion stage-whispered to her, and they exchanged conspiratorial smiles and got to work.
Crop Circle III.
“You have to push a little. Like this.” Abruptly, they were standing in a nice clearing.
“‘Kay.”
Minutes passed. “Try sticking your hand out. And don’t force it,” the older figure added.
“‘Kay.” A strange staggering squiggle veered crazily through the corn. The smaller figure grinned.
A long pause. “Nice job. Next time, try not to crisp the crops,” Nathan suggested.
“‘Kay,” Lith agreed amiably, too happy with her crop squiggles to care.
Crop Circle II.
“So… A little stressed, are we?”
Nathan stalked past his husband without a word. Ekion grinned, and closed the door in some politician’s face.
“What did they say, anyway?”
No response.
“I mean, not that it’s my problem or anything, but you’ve just flattened six wheatfields and a melon patch.”
Nathan sped up. Ekion followed.
“I rather liked the Sierpinski Triangle, myself.”
Nathan turned, looked at him blankly, and walked into a wall.
Ekion smirked.
