Best try on Chrome browser.
Bemere waited a few moments for her eyes to adjust from the dark of the burrow’s passages to the sudden blaze of light. The Think here was no longer a background murmur. Individual voices could be made out, though the words themselves were stripped of meaning, blurred by resonance, and they swirled around her, almost a physical presence. When her eyes had adjusted, Bemere saw that they had come to a most extraordinary space.
They stood at one end of a long, spiraling hall filled with a golden glow coming from the stone itself. The parabola of the walls soared overhead with ridges and folds in the stone that made it look more like the artifact of something living rather than a construction of stone. Along the walls were gathered the various races that made up the world of the Understone. There were small Hulzgrafn gnomes, mingling with the huge Plafakhi, the Greater Spiderkin, and the Aphostic elves. The sound of the multitude of voices was caught by the fantastic whorls, vaults and passages surrounding them. The resulting sound was not especially loud, but it filled the space completely and Bemere could imagine it testing their ears, wanting to fill the space in her mind as well.
“This is the source of the burrow’s Think,” Kaylie said quietly, lips nearly touching Bemere’s ear to be heard.
“This be a large part, but not be the whole Think,” Inzya said, watching as the other Law Wives carefully brought Twyla’s litter through the door. “All voices make up the Think, large and small. Being hard to hear them now, but if listening hard enough….”
“Bemere, we have come to the Matriarch’s Chamber,” Gwyenth said. “This hall curves in on itself and in the center waits Khivu Ataphalis, along with her advisors and your accuser. It’s very unusual for her to hold court here, a matriarch normally waits until she holds the allegiance of the entire burrow. That takes seasons, even years.”
“And be naught normal about that one,” Inzya grumbled. “Wish to Darkness that yellow hair’s colors were already found. Be too late now.”
“Bemere, we will walk along the center, with confidence,” Gwyenth said in her ear. “No one will lay a finger on you here. But remember, Law is not something you would expect in the world above. It’s more fluid, ritual mixed with debate and a sort of theatre as well.”
“Hah!” Inzya said. “Not being anything like. Law is alive, being different to Think. Law is.” She shifted into her native tongue for several sentences before her voice trailed off and she shrugged.
“To describe Think is work of many lifetimes. For now, we will go and help Law, make Think not be spreading the wartrouble.”
Gwyenth and Kaylie in the lead, the little group walked into the hall proper. Bemere was next, walking beside the Hulzgrafn Law Wives that carried Twyla’s sleeping form. As they were noticed, there was a ripple of silence followed by the hissing whispers of quiet exclamations and excitement. The reverberating echoes filled the chamber and tugged at Bemere’s ears as the Think tried to fill her mind again. Looking over her shoulder, Bemere saw that the crowd had closed behind them, a mass of eager eyes, but none of them approached their circuitous path deeper into the spiral.
After a walk that felt much longer than was possible, they entered the presence of Khivu Ataphalis. She sat on a dais slightly taller than they were, surrounded by courtiers from every race in the Understone. Between them and the steps of the dais were a rank of hulking Spiderkin, bristling with various weapons.
When they were close, Raist emerged from the crowd of courtiers and came down the steps. He stepped through the guards, raising his arms in triumph.
“They are caught!” He crowed. “Yes! Caught and now held fast by Wives of Law, aided by our most noble Witnesses! This moon worshipping whore and her filthy mage now face the justice of our burrow. Brothers and sisters…”
“Be silent,” Gwyenth said loudly. Her voice was calm for all its volume and pushed back the hissing whisper of the Think. “You intrude on the precedents of diplomats and envoys.”
“Precedent? Precedent?” The Dark Elf shrieked. “Spying and murder, and intrigue have no precedent! Have the kingdoms of the noble Golden and rebellious Silver joined together in this outrage? Or has that debased slut entangled you in her murderous plots? Offered you her body, like any common…”
“Do you lack the means to control your tongue?” Gwyenth asked. “Allow me to assist you by nailing it to yonder wall with my blade. Or would you prefer that I remove it completely?”
There was a swelling of voices around them, angry protests, bloodthirsty excitement, a few hints of laughter. The Think surged back around them as the crowd of Understone folk crowded closer.
Khivu rose to her feet with a sudden shout that shocked everything into a moment of silence.
“It comes to me plain, we stand in Khivu’s chamber!” She shouted, front arms slapping her chest. “If you are lawless vermin, then Think has finally driven away Law! Let the dance begin now and I shall gather such necklaces of your ears. We shall bring Law back to my burrow.”
Whatever was going on, Bemere saw moment of complete shock on Kaylie’s face. Gwyenth control betrayed no certain emotion but she was decidedly paler than normal. The sudden menace made Khivu’s already whiplike voice into a scourge. The crowd around them was immediately quiet, broken only by scattered whispers.
Wherever she is, my mother is nearly ill with a mysterious paroxysm of laughter Bemere thought.
“Serah Gwyenth, does your oath as our Witness bind you still?” Khivu asked, voice abruptly pleasant once more.
Gwyenth bowed low. “It does, matriarch.”
“How is it then that you bring a threat of violence to my chamber, in my very presence?”
Gwyenth stepped forward. “Matriarch, the true threat comes from your own burrow. An envoy, duly marked, is ambushed and taken by force, brought back to your burrow in chains. If the Ancient Treaties are so imperiled, I ask you to allow us to join your battle against this deadly barbarism.”
“No, no, no!” Raist screeched, interrupting whatever the matriarch had been about to say. “Not an envoy, a secret weapon! It is sent here to destroy and kill, draped like an honored visitor. Raist alone saw through this! It was Raist who…”
“Your offer of assistance is most gracious, serah,” Khivu said, talking over the elf. “And, as ever, this burrow accepts the friendship and cooperation of our neighbor races. So, allow me to satisfy your precedence with the promise of the inquiry I will conduct in due course. Your diplomatic precedence satisfied, we shall look into the plot that Master Raist has discovered among us.”
“Matriarch, that is not an acceptable means to…”
Khivu’s voice was like a whip “As you said, Witness; my burrow. You and Mistress Kaylie will join me as Witnesses to this matter as well.”
Gwyenth glanced at Bemere for a moment. She could see the surprise and uncertainty in the High Elf’s eyes but simply nodded once. The pair of Cloud Ghosts joined the group on the dais and the gnomish litter bearers, along with Inzya, withdrew.
“Serah Bemere, if you have sworn me a false oath, your diplomatic status will not protect you,” Khivu warned.
“As it should be,” Bemere agreed.
“Then you may proceed, Master Raist,” Khivu said, still staring at Bemere.
“Firstly, whore, you will surrender your arms,” Raist snarled.
He smiled as a small laugh ran through the crowd. He bowed slightly toward them and the laughter grew, quickly redoubling until it the mocking laughter was nearly a hand around Bemere’s throat. Her fists clenched against another wave of nausea rising up.
Fuck diplomacy, I don’t know the rules here.
After she had swallowed against her rebellious stomach, she managed a scornful look at Raist. “Firstly, houseboy, I am an Emissary of the Selenic Court, and am reckoned as a Serah by your betters. But I invite you to come and take my arms from me. Or is your sole talent the expertise of forgotten and meaningless grudges?”
Raist’s eyes nearly bugged out of his head and he sputtered, full of fury. However, he stayed in his place. The Think swirled around them, jeering and mocking laughter mixed with the outraged yells. Raist looked up, ignoring the building tumult. He seemed to be smiling slightly and Bemere felt a pang of unease. She laughed at him all the same.
“Shall I take your silence as my answer then? Matriarch, I am here to answer an absurd accusation. Was I summoned to listen to screeches and insults instead?”
“These accusations that include your companion, serah,” she replied. “But your Human appears rather…well used.”
Bemere didn’t see the humor in her words, but Khivu’s laughter joined the jeering merriment that filled the chamber.
“Khivu Ataphalis, what you see is the work of your burrow. Whatever further insult this court seeks to this victim only brings your court shame and dishonor.”
Bemere could see the sudden anger on Khivu’s face. An angry mutter grew and surrounded her, but Bemere ignored everything, eyes locked on the matriarch.
“You are forfeit!” Raist screeched through the ugly sound. “Guilty, guilty, guilty!”
On the dais, Gwyenth said something to Khivu. She nodded and held up her arm. The laughter and cheers died away.
“The whore cannot answer, Matriarch,” Raist laughed as he danced from foot to foot. “She has forfeited her defense! The slut proclaims her own guilt!”
“I am reminded that not every visitor here knows our Law,” Khivu replied. “Therefore, she is not responsible for our covenants with Law. She is responsible for whatever crimes we may find here. Serah Bemere, you offer an accusation of your own, but your companion was taken during the rout of the Human invaders. Criminals have no honor.”
Now, my mother has likely died of merriment, Bemere thought. “Khivu Ataphalis, she was not taken with the rest of the invaders. I ordered her to retire as your judgment fell upon the Human army. She was fully clothed in the same colors and patterns that I wear right now. Instead of allowing her to pass, she was ambushed, beaten and drugged, chained, and taken. She was brought here and hidden from sight to keep this craven act a secret. While it is true that I do not know the intricacies and rituals of your Law, does it condone ambush of the innocent, and acts of war?”
“Great Mistress, the tongues of the whore elves are incapable of speaking truth,” Raist declared, eyes bright. “Let us now sentence this filth to eternal darkness!”
“Master Raist, you will allow her the space to speak. Serah, is your companion wounded then?”
“Yes, matriarch, although not grievously. She was dosed with the same breeding potion as the other prisoners. As we returned to your summons, we were repeatedly bombarded by yet more ambushes that used your own Herald as a weapon. Inzya Law Wife deemed it better that she be sent into sleep rather than risk her mind.”
“Raist, is this true?” Khivu asked.
“My matriarch, the Moon Whores are known as despicable liars,” the dark elf replied. “Where is this Inzya? Unless this filth presents proof, it is all just falsehood.”
There was an ugly undercurrent of whispers among the audience, the echoes building and filling the space.
“Enough,” Khivu said after a few moments. “Mistress Anniak, she was affected by your concoctions. Can you undo the effects? And I would compel truth.”
Anniak stepped out from the courtesans and bowed low. “I can wake her, but the physical effects of the breeding philter can only be slowed for a short while. I will administer a philter for truthtalking at the same time.”
“Give it to them both!” Raist demanded and the titters and grumbled agreement filled the space again.
“Wake the Human,” Khivu commanded. “Before we compel truth from the Selenic Fae, we will hear what this one has to say for herself.”
The beautiful Aphostic elf bowed low and came down the stairs toward them. Bemere stepped between her and Twyla’s litter, putting a hand on her shortblade. Anniak stopped and from around them came a stir as the warriors tensed.
“Stand aside, serah,” Khivu said. “She will not be harmed.”
Bemere did not look away from Anniak and after a moment, the Aphostic elf stepped around her.
“KnifeintheDark is not among us,” she murmured in passing.
Confused, Bemere watched the Aphostic elf as she produced a vial and removed the stopper. It was waved under Twyla’s nose. The mage coughed and after another breath of Anniak’s potion Twyla sneezed and her eyes slowly opened.
“Why do people keep putting things up my nose?” She grumbled.
“Apologies,” Anniak said, holding a vial to Twyla’s lips. “Drink this, it will help a bit,”
After she had swallowed it, Twyla slowly sat up and looked around.
“What is your name?” Anniak asked Twyla.
” I am Twyla ap Tur. What’s your name?”
The Dark elf was amused. “Pardon my rudeness. You may call me Mistress Anniak. Do you know where you are?”
Twyla frowned. “Bemere is here, we must be in the Understone.”
Anniak motioned to Bemere and they both helped the woman to her feet.
“That’s correct, Twyla ap Tur,” Anniak said. “Matriarch, I would expect there to be far more confusion, but my knowledge of the philter’s effects on Humans is incomplete. Her memory seems to be intact.”
“I’m feeling better,” Twyla whispered as Anniak returned to the dais. “Where are we now?”
“Twyla ap Tur, I present you to Khivu Ataphalis,” Bemere said, halfturning her to face the dais. “She is the matriarch of this burrow.”
Raist threw up his hands and paced around grimacing and making faces but Twyla didn’t notice. She smiled uncertainly at Khivu and managed a wobbly curtesy before Bemere had to steady her.
“It is my very great honor…uhm, Bemere, do I call her majesty or highness or…”
“Khivu is enough, little one,” the matriarch said, not unkindly. “Tell me of your home. Are you indeed a mage from the Pale College?”
“I’m no mage, but I was raised by the College. I am reckoned maestra daos because I never had the ability to call stone even though I understand the words. You see, I study the stone calling words, well, not really all of them though. I’ve been tracing the ancestral root of a certain class of words, it’s called a dendriditic plotting, and there’s this really interesting hi of a subclass of a branch that…”
“Maestra!” Khivu interrupted, before Twyla’s avalanche of words could completely take over. “You were given a philter to compel you to speak truth. Too much tends to make one overtalkative.” The matriarch tapped her lips for emphasis.
Twyla nodded, hand going up to her own mouth.
“Don’t fret, little one, it is not your fault. Now, if you could tell me how you journeyed here with your friend? Just the bare facts.”
“Well, I was in Brynjarl Sands because their library is so incredibly old and has the oldest books in Tulamere. When I was done, it was time for me to go back to the Tower and Princess Madeline asked me to travel with Bemere to Grand Locks. But then Bemere met her cavalry friends and let me come along too. But then she was so angry that her friends were letting the militia come up here. It was a good trip, I met new friends, you see I’ve never been away from the Tower, so everything is new, and…”
Bemere nudged her and Twyla put the hand back over her mouth and then glared at her. Bemere gave her a tiny shrug in return.
“Mistress Anniak, if you’d note this for the philter’s future dosages,” Khivu said and Anniak bowed her head in response. “Twyla ap Tur, please continue.”
“I was going back, like Bemere told me to. Then they were waving for me to stop and then someone knocked me off my horse! They were so mean! When I got up, one of them punched my stomach. I think I broke his nose before they knocked me down again. I hope so.”
“You broke a Plafkhaki’s nose?” Khivu asked and a titter ran through the audience.
Twyla giggled as well. “A giant? Oh, no. They were my size and looked like they were related to Bemere. That’s why I was so surprised.”
“Tell me about the battle yesterday. Why were you fleeing?”
“Bemere told me to,” Twyla said. “She said that Spiderkin were coming and they’d smell me. I let our horses run until they calmed down and tried to get back to my friends. I was nearly to the river when I was attacked.”
“Her wits are addled!” Raist screeched “This filth was taken with the other prisoners in the canyon. Where we found this!”
The Aphostic elf brandished Twyla’s medallion and an ugly sound began to swirl around them, cursing, promises of pain, promises of death.
“Hey, that’s mine! Your Maj…Khivu, that was torn off me in the attack. Look, you can see the mark right here on my neck. My maestro awarded it to me himself, and I want it back.”
There was a moment of stunned silence.
“Guilty!” Raist screamed, throwing his hands over his head as bloodthirsty cheers filled the chamber. Khivu did not move or speak, just stared across the chamber. The cheering slowly died away. The matriarch spoke in a low voice to a courtier and a moment later, someone handed her a long black knife, wickedly curved.
“You are my children and I would never threaten you,” Khivu said into the silence. “Rather, I promise. That includes you, Law Reader. I dislike your constant interruptions. Now, Twyla ap Tur, do you remember being given a philter, some kind potion when you were captured?”
“Yes, I started feeling confused. So, I entered a kyickmur before it could get worse.”
There was an explosion of laughter and jeering, but genuine amusement as well.
Raist yelled over the top of it; “Lies and lies on top of falsehood! Do these misbegotten intruders even understand truth? Is the entire filthy race living in fantasies of their own choosing? They are as deluded as they are guilty! Shall we go up and teach them the way of the world?”
“You’re the one lying!” Twyla’s yell was impressive and pushed back the laughter. “I withdrew into the kyickmur named Anamnesis! That is the aspect of the ethereal perfume and gathered spirits, from the season of Waking Sun to the arrival of Red Moon!”
The Aphostic fae had stopped laughing and their counterparts fell quiet as they noticed. Twyla looked around the large room nervously.
“I thought it might help,” she said into the silence.
“Didn’t your college teach you that it’s impossible for all of you simple minded Humans to even comprehend the valour?” Khivu sounded very amused now. “That exalted state is for the fae alone and closely guarded by their Divines.”
“Well, no one told me that,” Twyla said. “Anyway, whoever thinks that never met Bemere. She’s the best teacher I’ve ever had.”
On the dais, one of the Aphostic courtesans whispered to Khivu. After a moment, the matriarch motioned her forward.
“Here is an initiate of the valour, Twyla ap Tur,” Khivu said. “Please grant her the polite candor you have shown me.”
Twyla bowed slightly to the female elf facing her.
“Human, what are the ruling aspects of Anamnesis?” The elf asked, not returning the bow.
“The Light of Unity from Righteous Thought to Sacred Purpose,” Twyla said immediately. “Guided by blessed remembrance of the path before. I guess that’s why I thought of that one.”
The elf of the dais narrowed her eyes. “And when you began your instruction you started with the current cycle?”
“No, that’s not possible,” Twyla said, confused.
A triumphant look on his face, Raist started to say something but his mouth snapped shut as Khivu pointed the knife at him. Twyla didn’t notice and kept talking.
“…And we were nowhere near the coast, let alone a consecrated temple so it wasn’t even a choice. So, I must follow the full path from the beginning. We’ve gotten as far as the Gwiddha of the Blood Moon Passing into Sun’s Contemplation of Quiet Water when the Goat’s Moon occludes the top third of the Northern Hawse. You know, there is this commentary written by Cejum Orpharides. He uses the birth of that very moment as allegorical construct, a metaphor if you will, to discuss the organization of courtly affairs…”
The courtier’s eyes were becoming glassy as Twyla kept talking. “Yes, that’s enough,” she interrupted when Twyla paused for breath. “As for that commentator, reliance upon the conclusions of Cejum Orpharides is unwise. He is not well regarded.”
Twyla smiled, sensing another scholar. “Oh, I know! Bemere despises him and she’s his niece!”
Bemere had only been halfpaying attention, but as Gwyenth’s face froze again, she realized what Twyla had just said. A sick heaviness in her chest joined the other unpleasantness in her gut as whispers of her family’s ancestral name echoed and repeated through the chamber. She vowed to someday paddle Madeline’s ass for giving Twyla that book of nonsense, after she somehow paddled her own for mentioning anything about the old drunk or that thricedamned book to the knowledgehungry maestra.
On the dais, the Dark Elf nodded at Khivu and stepped back into the group. Mercifully, Khivu hadn’t caught what she’d said, or more likely, saw it as garrulous chatter from an overactive Human mouth.
“Thank you, Twyla ap Tur,” Khivu said. “WarChief Ulan, are you present?”
An imposing Plaflakhi strode from the crowd immediately. “I am, matriarch. How may I serve?
“Are the records of our captured prizes complete? Do they reveal a medallion from the Pale College?”
“They are complete, Khivu and no such medallion was recorded. It would have been brought to your attention immediately.”
“Was this Human taken captive by your soldiers?”
“This requires some study to answer as fact, but I think that she is not. Word was given that least harm be inflicted, and we serve Law joyfully.” The large man looked at Raist for a moment. “Even the worst of my soldiers would not attack from ambush, nor treat our captives so badly. That is not Law.”
Raist cleared his throat. “WarChief, have you ever missed an item in your records? That is to say, even the tiniest sequin?”
The giant looked down at him, expressionless. “Mistakes rarely happen.”
Raist nodded, trying to appear sympathetic rather than condescending. “But they do happen.”
He turned his back on the Plafalkhi, stalking back to the middle of the cleared area, shaking his head like a weary schoolmaster. “There is Law. Law requires proof. Proof requires exact records. There can be no proof here.”
“And how did you come by that medallion, Law Reader?” Khivu asked.
With a wide manic grin, Raist spread his arms wide. “Matriarch, I admit that I do not quite remember. I was in the portal observing the prisoners, it may have been left on the table for me, it may have been placed in my hand, I simply do not recall. Even the Champions of Law have lapses as we have just heard!”
He clapped his hands together when there was no answer. “Dearest Matriarch, as your Law Reader I must point out that in spite of its unknown provenance, the Human has already admitted that it belongs to her. A mage of the Pale College, a destroyer of stone!”
“Still not that kind of maestra,” Twyla grumbled under her breath.
“Matriarch, is there any question here? The destroyer reveals what it is and has named its accomplice. And hi shows us well the Silver moonsluts and their arrogance and depravity. Now they dare to bring this blathering weapon to this very chamber!
“Matriarch, my deepest respect, but this is no longer a matter that requires your judgement. We will make the weapon silent and imprison the whore. Both may serve as your hosts for many generations of noble chikkur!”
“You brought this matter before me,” Khivu said flatly. “I will not be dismissed when you decide that I am no longer needed, dvisor. Twyla ap Tur, shall we recognize you as Maestra?”
Twyla was startled by the question. “No, I do not represent the college here, no matter what the angry man says. Anyway, I’m barely a maestra.”
“They are guilty!” Raist shrieked, the sound clawing at Bemere’s ears as it spread. “Do you understand the word? This judgement is a poor echo of the wisdom of Eikh! You may not…”
“You have begun to repeat yourself, Law Reader,” Khivu said, her voice easily overcoming his shrieks. “Others may speak.”
The Aphostic elf threw up his hands and left the center, grimacing and shaking his head at the crowd. Khivu waited until the sound of the crowd began to soften before she spoke.
“Twyla ap Tur, thank you for your patience and candor. I have only one question more; where is the border with the Grassland Empire?”
Twyla looked blank. “Which direction? I’m sorry, I don’t have a clue without the Hawses to guide me.”
“No matter. Tell me instead about this river where you left your friends. Is that the border of their empire?”
“No, I think that’s the edge of the northern highlands. But when I asked the sergeant, he said that the land is mostly empty. Anyway, the Grassland Empire starts at the Grand Canal and that is a long way toward the South Hawse. We were already north of the canal when we set out and it took several days to ride this far north.”
“I see. Thank you for your counsel, maestra.”
There was a stir from the crowd and Bemere looked over her shoulder to see Inzya emerge, followed by other Law Wives, all of them carrying packages.
“What is all this?” Khivu asked brightly. “No, not a word from you, Raist. I am quite curious to see what the Law Wives have brought for us.”
Without a word, Inzya produced a battered surcoat in the grey and silver Plenilune colors. One of her sisters unfolded a cloth and Inzya laid the surcoat on it carefully, almost reverentially. The others unwrapped the rest of what they had found, remains of the horse caparisons, and finally the baggage. The chamber had become completely silent.
“I am shaken,” Khivu said as they withdrew. “The burrow our mothers have built has become a hole full of degenerate vermin and Law has abandoned us.”
“Matriarch!” The WarChief exclaimed. “Where my people are, there too comes Law. We have never abandoned our vows!”
Raist made a show of inspecting all of the evidence and waved his hand in dismissal.
“Matriarch, these are easily detected fakeries,” he sneered. “But, at your word, I will tirelessly root out…”
The Dark elf was interrupted by more of the Law Wives shoving through the crowd, this time leading two Dark elves whose thumbs were bound together behind them. Raist opened his mouth twice without any words coming out. Then, he screamed a curse, drawing a blade to charge at Bemere.
Bemere stepped in front of Twyla again, grabbing for her blade. From the corner of her eye, she saw Anniak leap from the top of the dais, hands flashing out, before she landed in a predatory crouch shielding Bemere. Raist’s shriek had trailed off and he stumbled to a halt, looking at a pair of feathered darts jabbing into his side. He snarled incoherently at Anniak as he collapsed, almost at her feet. The silence in the chamber began to echo with tense whispering.
“Nothing to fret about, brothers and sisters,” Anniak said cheerfully, facing the chamber. “My brother here is prone to his little fits. Ease your worry, he’s been like this since we were children. He’ll be fine after a little rest.”
One of the guards stepped forward to pick up Raist. The Dark elf’s head lolled like he was asleep, although his eyes were open and blazing with hatred. Anniak turned and retrieved the medallion from where Raist had dropped it. She walked back to stand in front of Raist before examining it closely. After too long of a pause, she looked up at Raist.
“Thief,” she said, putting more contempt into the word than Bemere thought possible. Then she went to Twyla and bowed deeply before offering it to her.
“Our deepest apologies, Twyla ap Tur.”
“Why are you all so pretty?” Twyla whispered as she took it.
Anniak smiled and winked before turning and prostrating herself at the base of the dais.
“Khivu Ataphalis, my beloved matriarch, I have committed violence in your chamber.”
“Your actions were rash, and violence within this place must be harshly punished,” Khivu agreed, voice pleasant again.
“I freely place myself at your mercy without reservation,” Anniak replied, face still hidden.
“To offend Law is a serious offense. Let your punishment fit your crime; you shall listen carefully to Law and Think alike under my supervision. You are charged to listen well and bring me the wisdom they whisper. And you will swear your loyalty to your matriarch.”
“Khivu Ataphalis, I swear that my life will be spent in service to Law and Think as they bless your household and burrow,” Anniak said. “I call to Pera Sonbro, Father of Darkness and ask him to witness my allegiance. May my Lord cast me into the fires should I ever break my vow.”
“Take your place beside me,” Khivu said.
“You are most benevolent.” Anniak rose gracefully to her feet and took her place beside the matriarch.
Khivu gestured and Raist was held up in front of her, head still lolling.
“Mercy must have limits,” Khivu’s voice echoed through the chamber, drowning everything else out as she stood. “Raist, for too long you have attempted to set a fire in my burrow. Fire that would spread flames across Allworld, even as it consumed your own kin and kind, those that sheltered and fed you.
“Understone, hear my judgement! This one’s name, property, and titles are forfeit, never to be restored. I rename you Thief and a traitor to Law. In time, I can only hope that your sick hatred will disappear as you serve my personal household.”
Raist’s eyes had just enough time to go wide before the guard dragged him behind the dais to a collective sigh of relief. The rest of Khivu’s guard immediately followed them and Bemere realized who they’d been protecting the matriarch from.
“Serah Bemere, and Maestra Twyla ap Tur, I deeply regret all of this unseemly behavior. You have my gratitude, and the gratitude of my burrow, for revealing the sickness that lurked among us. We are in your debt.”
“I hope he feels better,” Twyla said.
“We’ll do our very best to keep him amused and occupied, maestra,” Khivu assured her. “Now, the rest of you, my beloved and treasured family, you now see that there are thieves and traitors in our midst. With that knowledge, where do you stand? If your heart has any reservations about allegiance to this burrow, leave now and depart peacefully from our halls. We are no longer your kin, and this is not your home.”
The entire audience began to crowd closer to the dais, laying face down. As they began the oath, Bemere and Twyla stood out of the way and Gwyenth and Kaylie joined them. The goldenhaired elf put an arm around Bemere’s shoulders, surprising her.
“The Mother of Trees showed me great favor when she sent you here.”
“If only she had shown such favor to my innards,” Bemere replied quietly. “Do you think that the new, very dangerous, Reader of Law has anything up her sleeve for my stomach?”
“I’ll go ask her,” Kaylie said.
A few hours later, her stomach much closer to normal, and a borrowed mask covering her nose and mouth, Bemere stood with the other Witnesses and several courtiers in a small side chamber. There was silence as Raist was half led, half carried by a soldier. Two of the courtiers took charge of him, putting him face down over a large cushion. He examined the cushion idly as Khivu Ataphalis entered the chamber. She had removed the chainmail and ornaments and Bemere could see that her torso went to where her own hips were. She did not seem to have breasts, but her body was undeniably feminine all the same.
Anniak entered the chamber behind Khivu, carrying a small tray that she handed to one of the courtiers. She took a stone bottle from it and gracefully knelt below the matriarch. A thick member slid out of the bottom of the spiderlike portion of her body and Anniak poured oil in her hands before sliding them from base to tip, drawing a quiet moan from Khivu. Anniak stood and walked in front of her brother, her look of tenderness gone from her face.
“Prepare yourself, Thief,” she said.
Raist looked up at her and smiled placidly. Khivu moved to stand over him, holding him tightly with her forelegs. She lowered herself slowly, folding her legs, pair by pair, to lower herself on top of him. Her organ seemed to be able to move on its own, but two courtiers appeared on either side of the prisoner and guided it between the cheeks of Raist’s bottom. The matriarch eased her body forward and Raist clutched the cushion, groaning as the thick tube entered his anus. Khivu’s ovipositor flexed as an egg was deposited deep inside Raist. Judging from the sounds he was making, the former Law Reader approved.
As soon as the egg was placed, Khivu immediately rose to her feet. “Take this one away. He is filth, I do not wish to see him again.”
Raist was helped to his feet, and despite the matriarch’s tone, they were gentle enough handing him off to another pair of courtiers that took him through a doorway.
Khivu beckoned Anniak close and bent over to speak quietly to her. Anniak nodded and took a cloth from somewhere and gently, but thoroughly cleaned Khivu’s member. She reapplied the oil and kissed the tip before standing again. Khivu caressed her in return as she waited for the next host.
The woman, a tough looking redhead, was led in. Several tattoos adorned scars of different ages all over her body.
“Thank you for this, Lady,” the woman said to Khivu, tears streaming down her face. “I don’t know what happened…thank you for your gift of atonement.”
Khivu put a hand on her head for a moment and Bemere sensed a glyph being cast. The woman looked relieved as they arranged her on the cushion and as Khivu lowered herself, the scarred redhead spread her legs wide and lifted her hips. The attendant guided the member against the woman’s anus. She grunted softly as Khivu pushed inside. Unlike Raist, Khivu took her time and seemed to take pleasure from the implanting. The woman beneath her squirmed, hands pushing her body back against Khivu’s. Again, they saw the bulge as an egg was delivered and the woman orgasmed loudly as it passed inside her. Khivu withdrew and the woman bowed deeply once more before she was led away.
“Atonement comes in many forms,” Kaylie murmured.
The next host was a younger brunette without the pallor of the other woman. Bemere noticed that she didn’t show any grief, just eagerness as the attendants put her in position. She was very vocal about her approval as Khivu seeded her. Bemere saw that her thighs were wet as she was helped up and led away.
“That one was rather enthusiastic in her atonement,” Gwyenth said.
“A lover of justice without a doubt,” Kaylie added. “Is the mask working, Bemere? You’re breathing a little fast.”
“The mask is most welcome, my thanks again,” Bemere muttered. “And yes, I’m panting like a bitch in heat. I did not expect this to be remotely arousing.”
The other two laughed as there was more applause for the next participant. Anniak met her eyes as she stood next to Khivu. There was a small smile on her face and Bemere knew the Aphostic elf was thinking about her situation. It was a little annoying but Bemere figured that she could appreciate all their amusement once she had been reunited with her pegos. For now, however, she had to stand and watch this carnal exhibition, helplessly getting wetter and wetter as she watched.
Once the implantation of the new chikkur was finally completed, Anniak led Bemere and the Witnesses to the chambers where Twyla had been taken to sleep off the effects of the various potions.
As she entered the chamber, Bemere’s breath was taken away by the beauty of the space. The main chamber was an oval with several large pools connected by small waterfalls. The warm water steamed gently as it cascaded from pool to pool. It was comfortably warm and lit by a golden glow provided by luminescent mosses on the walls and ceiling.
Following the sound of deep laughter, Bemere and Anniak stepped down one of the side passages that ended in an alcove lined with springy moss. Inside, Gruni, the Plafakhi woman that had guided Bemere earlier, was sitting against the wall while Twyla sprawled out on cushions opposite her.
“Then may I rearrange the pillows, gentle giant?” Twyla asked.
“Hmm, I think not, tiny woman. I have the suspicion that you are plotting to get away from my sight.”
Twyla laughed. “What if I tied the pillows to my feet?”
“Little one, how is this any different than making a path with the cushions?”
“Well, less work for one,” Twyla laughed. “Tell me your task again.”
“Mistress Anniak charged me to watch over you and ensure that you remained here on your pile of cushions.”
“But there’s an obvious way for me to leave.”
“Indeed.”
Anniak smiled at Bemere and they stepped through the archway.
Twyla smiled happily at them. “I have not figured out how to move from these pillows as of yet. My guardian is adamant.”
“But I am no longer adamant,” Gruni said. “Mistress Anniak has returned and my duty is ended. I did enjoy your pillow rearranging idea though.”
“That’s the obvious route?” Twyla laughed. “You win, but I very much enjoyed our game.”
“As did I,” the Plafahki woman said, standing up to crouch in the small alcove. “Anniak, I am off to find my Donag. We will see you during the festivities?”
“Of course! Thank you for lending me your time here.”
“Until then,” Gruni said, straightening up once she’d stepped into the larger chamber.
“How are you feeling?” Bemere asked Twyla.
“A little shaky, but I am myself once more. My memory though… I remember a lot of people sleeping, and then running through the dark. But mostly I remember the warm melty feeling I had. I liked it.”
“Mistress Anniak would like to examine you for a moment, to make sure the potion’s effects are gone.”
Anniak knelt beside Twyla and looked in her eyes for several moments before nodding. “The worst of it has passed, though you may feel some effects of the Herald for a short time. Maestra, I would like your permission to cast a small glyph over you. It marks you as a welcome guest in our burrow.”
Twyla nodded and Anniak made a series of fluid gestures with her hand and a small glow grew around Twyla for a moment and then disappeared. “There we are. Now you may move about freely within our burrow. In the meantime, Serah Bemere, all of your luggage and belongings are being cleaned and put right. I will have it brought here when it is restored.”
“Thank you, that would be perfect. And my name is Bemere, not ‘serah’, if you’d do me the honor.”
“And I’m Twyla, hardly a maestra at all.”
The courtier smiled and bowed slightly. “Bemere and Twyla it is then. I must go and supervise some things, but I will return. If you have any needs, any at all, send word and we will happily assist.”
After a nod to Gwyenth and Kaylie, Anniak left the chamber. Bemere watched her hips sway gracefully beneath the thin cloth around her waist. Embarrassed suddenly, she turned away in time to see that Gwyenth and Kaylie were watching as well.
“Nothing but trouble, those Dark Ones,” they heard Gwyenth say after Anniak had gone.
“And you sound absolutely fascinated,” Kaylie teased.
“What now?” Twyla asked as the two outside continued to poke fun at each other.
“Would you like a bath?” Bemere asked.
Twyla sighed. “More than anything. Is there somewhere I can wash?”
Bemere smiled. “If you’ll follow me, I think we can find something.”
Gwyenth was buckling a sword belt around her waist as they emerged. After introductions, Gwyenth explained that she wanted to have a look around. She left soon after.
“Maestra, I have an undertunic that should fit you. That one looks about done in.”
Twyla looked down. “I have to agree. But I think if we’re going to share clothing, you should just call me Twyla,” she said, pulling off the shredded undertunic.
Bemere tried not to pay too close attention, but her pulse quickened as Twyla’s body was revealed. Even bruised and spattered with mud, she was just as beautiful as Bemere’s occasional glimpses had promised, breasts larger than her own, standing proud on her chest with red nipples, growing hard in their freedom. Her stomach was flat, her hips wonderfully curved and between them…
“One of the washrooms is right through there,” Kaylie said, getting out of her clothes.
“What is this place?” Twyla asked, marveling at the moving water and glowing walls.
“This is part of the matriarch’s chambers,” Kaylie said. “Khivu met us here when we arrived. The Understone folk socialize in places like this. Bathing is a large part of their society.”
“While everyone is naked?” Twyla asked.
“It’s hard to get clean otherwise,” Kaylie said. “Nudity here is far less remarkable than the world above us.”
Bemere had begun to perspire and gratefully took off the Envoy’s surcoat while the two women found a tunic that would fit Twyla. The rest of her clothes followed but she quickly wrapped a towel around her hips. Her cunt had been drooling since the Witnessing, and the two nude women fueled even more lust. Kaylie wouldn’t be bothered, but she wasn’t sure of Twyla. Bemere did not want to have to explain why her thighs were damp with her own arousal.
“Now, to the baths,” Kaylie said, leading them to another alcove carved into the stone wall.
Inside, a wide pool took up the entire room with only a narrow ledge around the edges. The water was stirred by jets of hot water bubbling up from the floor and a small channel directed the pool’s overflow back into the larger cavern.
Twyla sighed happily as she tested the water. “This is lovely, being rolled in mud was an acceptable price of admission.”
Kaylie laughed as she went to a shelved recess. She took a stone bottle and a stack of toweling. Twyla slipped into the pool, submerging her body up to her neck.
“Would you prefer privacy?” Bemere asked.
“I don’t think so,” Twyla said, eyes closed as she luxuriated in the water. “You really need to try this.”
“Here, I’ll help you get that mud out of your hair,” Kaylie said, walking down into the pool, followed by Bemere.
“Duck under for half a moment,” Kaylie said cheerfully.
Once Twyla’s hair was wet, Kaylie turned her around and began to massage soap into her scalp. Bemere took a cloth from the stack and added more of the soap before she sat facing Twyla.
“Close your eyes,” Bemere said, then began to carefully wipe the mud from her face.
“I think I understand what decadent really means now,” Twyla finally said, as Kaylie rinsed her hair for the third time.
“Not quite yet, you don’t,” Kaylie said with a smile. “Now that you look more like a human than a mud golem, we’ll ply you with wine and treats and you’ll see what decadent really means. I’ll go get you a cup.”
Twyla smiled as the lithe, redheaded woman pulled herself out of the water.
“You know, I’m starting to really enjoy traveling with you, Bemere,” she sighed, twisting her long blonde hair and squeezing the water out.
The elf wiped away the last bit of mud and examined her face. “Are you sure of that? You have a blackened eye, your jaw is bruised, on top of all the other scrapes and cuts.”
“Do I look that bad?” Twyla asked as Bemere studied her face intently.
“No, you’re as lovely as ever. Twyla, your injuries are my fault and I most humbly beg for your pardon for everything. If I had any idea what was going on here, we never would have…”
Twyla interrupted her by leaning close to press her lips against Bemere’s. The elf was surprised but returned her kiss gently. She was even more surprised when Twyla took one of her hands and placed it on her breast. Bemere could feel Twyla’s hard nipple against her palm and squeezed Twyla’s breast gently.
Twyla took a long shuddering breath as their lips parted. “This has been the greatest adventure of my life,” she whispered. “You have nothing to apologize for.”
“I disagree,” Bemere said, nearly panting with need.
Twyla smiled shakily. “If you really feel atonement is needed, please keep touching me. I’ve wanted you since that night I came looking for you in that wayhouse. I didn’t know how to…”
Her voice trailed off into a quiet moan as Bemere pulled her close and kissed a line from her neck to Twyla’s jaw. Her free hand went to Twyla’s other breast and the human woman began to breathe harder as Bemere gently pinched and teased her nipples.
“My stomach feels like it did in the tunnels,” Twyla whispered. “Warm and runny.”
Bemere ran the tip of her tongue around the edge of Twyla’s ear. “Do you like it?” She whispered.
Twyla nodded, shivering at the feel of the elf’s warm breath in her ear. “But I’m not sure how it… I mean, what to do…” she whispered, wondering if Kaylie would hear them over the bubbling water.
“That’s why I’m teaching you, silly.” Bemere pulled Twyla closer, wrapping her legs around the woman’s waist as they continued kissing.
When they parted again, lips swollen and breathing hard, Twyla saw Kaylie sitting and watching them. The red head smiled at Twyla and handed her a cup.
“Here is your wine. I’ll be in the big pool if you two need anything else.” She bowed slightly and left them alone.
“She’s not going to be upset that we’re in here together?” Twyla fretted.
“She would probably like an invitation to join us,” Bemere said, wrapping her arms around Twyla again.
“Really?”
“Really. But I am keeping you for myself this first time.”
They looked into each other’s eyes and Twyla’s hands found Bemere’s aching nipples.
“You must be really excited,” she whispered.
Bemere kissed her, tasting traces of the berrymint wine. Twyla dropped the cup in the water and kissed her back, putting a gentle hand on either side of her face. The woman’s hips were thrusting up, bouncing Bemere slightly.
“And how does this feel?” Bemere asked, reaching down to caress Twyla’s .
The woman’s eyes rolled back in her head and her thighs clamped around Bemere’s hand as Twyla thrust her hips up hard, her muscles clenched tight. Bemere whispered encouragement into Twyla’s ear as her finger slowly entered the other woman.
Twyla’s face flushed as her body went as taut as a bowstring as Bemere’s fingers brought her to climax. After several seconds, she opened her eyes and looked at Bemere, eyes wide.
“That’s why you were so noisy at the way house.”
“I think you’ll enjoy this,” Bemere chuckled and she slid one of her legs under Twyla, pressing their cunts together. Twyla groaned, grinding the lips of her against Bemere’s. The elf slowed her friend’s frantic movements, showing her how to move in a slower rhythm.
When Gwyenth returned she found Kaylie was floating in the larger pool, hands teasing her nipples as she listened to the moaning from the other chamber.
“Were you banished for coarse language?” Gwyenth asked, unwrapping the long belt from around her hips. “I can’t say that I’m surprised.”
Kaylie smiled, standing up in the water. “I thought you liked my coarse language. And it’s Twyla’s first time, so I gave them some privacy. As you can see, I’m diplomatic.”
“Help me get this damned surcoat off. Her first time for what?”
Kaylie stepped out of the tub and helped Gwyenth get the heavy surcoat off. “She’s never had before.”
Gwyenth looked at her, eyebrow raised. “And you believe that? Please note that she is a traveling companion of a Plenilune fae, one firmly in the grip of her fertile season.”
Kaylie stuck out her tongue. “Perhaps Bemere has more restraint than some other elves I could mention. Anyway, Twyla was raised by the Pale College. They are taught that to be a scholar one had to be chaste. She desperately wanted to be a scholar, so….”
“Divines preserve us, celibacy? What perversity won’t you Humans imagine next?”
Kaylie raised her eyebrows, lightly pinching one of Gwyenth’s nipples. “I’m never sure. Shall we use our imaginations together?”
Gwyenth shuddered slightly. “As much as that feels good, stewards will be along soon bearing gifts from the matriarch.”
“Later then,” Kaylie said, getting a towel. “What kind of gifts?”
“Suitable clothes for the chikkur festival,” Gwyenth said. “A roundabout way of telling us that we will be meeting with members of Khivu’s court.”
The muffled moans from the alcove rose, culminating in strangled cries.
“It sounds like our friends have a moment,” Kaylie said. “I’ll go warn them before they start bathing again.”
“But where is the rest?”
“The burrow is warm enough that clothes are more for decoration than protection,” Kaylie said, adjusting the long skirt wrapped around her hips.
“Can I see myself in a mirror at least?” Twyla asked, tugging at her bandeau
“Gwyenth has one over here,”
Kaylie and Twyla joined the other two in another semiprivate alcove. There was an oblong shimmer on one wall.
“See Twyla? You look amazing,” Kaylie said.
She blushed, examining her reflection. “How do you keep your nipples from showing through this top?”
“Yours are darker than mine, see?” Kaylie said, pulling a breast from her halter.
Twyla looked at their reflections again. All four of them wore the same type of loincloths as Anniak and the other courtiers; the hem of the front and back pieces fell a bit above their ankles but left their hips and legs bare. Their tops consisted of a long roll of the same translucent cloth wrapped several times around their chests. Twyla’s nipples, dark red on her pale skin, were just visible. Bemere had helped dry her long hair, plaiting it into a heavy braid that hung over her shoulder.
“Yes, I’ll admit that I do look good, I’m just not sure about wearing this outside.”
“We’re not going outside,” Bemere pointed out. “And everyone is wearing something like that for the festival.”
“No one will notice me?”
“Anyone who doesn’t notice you is either blind or simple,” Kaylie said. “Let’s have a drink or two, it’ll help you relax.”
When the humans had mugs of wine, and the elfish women had lit pipes of clover, they sat together on the edge of a warm pool, feet in the water.
“What is everyone celebrating?” Twyla asked.
“The matriarch has begun her first generation of the ones you call Greater Spiderkin,” Gwyenth explained. “These children will be trained from birth to be her closest advisors and confidants. Because they are so important to the future of the burrow, all the people here will spend the next three days in a celebration welcoming them to the Allworld.”
“Does that work?” Twyla asked, fascinated.
Gwyenth shrugged and smiled. “I cannot say for sure, but the first generation has always been welcomed this way since the very beginnings of the Understone and the burrows thrive.”
“Even if it was only tradition, I very much like the idea,” Twyla said. “But the matriarch must be having a very busy week.”
Kaylie chuckled. “More than you know.”
“Khivu Ataphalis has rather turned things upside down,” Gwyenth agreed. “Now that I know she isn’t trying to spark a war, I find myself admiring her political machinations; rather than fight the traitors in her midst, she has used the crisis to solidify her claim as matriarch, something that usually takes seasons, if not years. The urgency of a possible plot against the burrow itself removed much of the courtly maneuvering and posturing, leaving her undeniably in charge of the burrow. She showed mercy with the traitors, likely to soften the resolve of any remaining conspirators. Khivu will be a formidable matriarch for this burrow. I fear that she will need to be, there is a larger darkness out there waiting.”
“The plot goes beyond this burrow,” Bemere said.
Gwyenth grimaced. “Far beyond. I’ve been speaking with Thief while the rest of you wallowed in luxury. Once he began talking, he was delighted to relate how clever his faction had been. At least until Khivu refused to execute the original invaders.”
“How many took part in his plot?” Kaylie asked.
“Only a few here,” Gwyenth said. “Thief did not plan this alone, there have been hints that someone is pushing for a war against the Humans. Khivu’s interpretation of Law will be a larger thorn than anyone yet realizes. After the chikkur are born, all the surviving invaders will be returned to Human lands unharmed, with a new respect, even affection, for the Understone.”
“I am certain that this won’t be the last time I hear about the Cyannous expedition,” Bemere said. “I just hope Emperor Flavius doesn’t ask if I was involved.”
“That sounds like the beginning of a fascinating ,” Twyla said.
“You’ve heard enough tales for one day,” Bemere laughed.
“Hello, my lovelies,” Anniak called as she appeared in the passage. She was wearing the same style loincloth and bandeau as she had before, but the material was even more translucent than their own and seemed to sparkle. “May I join you?”
They made space for her in the pool and Anniak settled in with them.
“Khivu will join us in a little while,” she said. “She is looking forward to meeting you in friendlier circumstance.”
“During her own chikkur celebration? That is a singular honor.” Gwyenth said. “May I offer you a pipe?”
“That’s very kind,” Anniak said.
Bemere handed her the pipe she had just refilled. Anniak snapped her fingers and a small spark glowed in the bowl. She inhaled deeply and held her breath for a moment before exhaling with a happy sigh.
“I’d offer you wine as well, but I’m finding that’s mostly a human vice,” Kaylie said.
“As well as our larger friends, but it does not agree with me. I appreciate your kindness.”
They sat and chatted about nothing very much for a few minutes, until Gruni ducked under the doorway to enter the chambers. Behind her came Khivu Ataphalis and Donag, Gruni’s mate. Lastly, a Greater Spiderkin followed them. His size and bearing marked him as a warrior caste male, but for all his size, he was still a third smaller than the matriarch.
“Well met, honored friends,” Khivu said, bowing gracefully. “May you always be safe and cherished in my home.”
The four visitors were already on their feet and returned her bow.
“Beloved matriarch, your beneficence encompasses us and we are content,” Gwyenth said in a formal tone.
“My heart is gladdened,” Khivu said. She pulled the mail shirt over her head and Gruni took it from her. “Serah Gwyenth, and Serah Bemere, before we truly begin our festivities, I would like to have a quiet conversation.”
“The side chambers are prepared, matriarch,” Anniak said.
“My thanks. Axit, Donag, join us,” Khivu said over her shoulder before disappearing into another alcove.
Gwyenth glanced at Kaylie as she got out of the pool, but the younger woman shook her head. “I’ll stay here and keep Twyla out of trouble.”
“I’m not sure you are the best choice for that task,” Gwyenth said, a rare smile on her face. “We will speak later.”
Inside, Khivu had settled herself at one end of the little chamber, Axit on one side of her, Donag on the other.
“I regret separating you from your companions,” Khivu said. “However, it is the Humans I would speak of and I would not offer either of them offense.”
“Neither would likely take offense,” Gwyenth said, as the two fae settled to the floor. “But a kind precaution all the same.”
“Thank you,” Khivu said. “Allow me to introduce Axit. He will serve as my…what is the title, Donag?”
“That one is ‘foreign minister,’” the giant rumbled.
Khivu nodded her thanks. “Axit will be this burrow’s first foreign minister, advising me in our dealings with the world above. He is also the father of my chikkur, and most of all, an old and trusted friend.”
“It is my honor,” Axit said, bowing at the waist.
“That is rather unexpected,” Gwyenth said. “You will reach out to the world above?”
“Ignorance and hate came close to destroying my burrow today. Closer than I would like to admit. Think is not enough, even Law is not enough. We must look more closely at the world above us. Serah Bemere, you have my deepest thanks and affection for your deportment in horrid circumstances, not to mention your willingness to serve as Witness. I have no right to ask more of you, but….”
“You are worried about the Humans to your south,” Bemere finished. “As before, I am at your service, Khivu.”
“And again, I am in your debt. I cannot understand them as a people. Even within my own burrow, they baffle me. Out there are two Humans, the first serves the Great Lady as no human ever has. The other is not only a trusted companion of a Selenic Envoy, but a woman with arcane knowledge no one even thought possible. Perhaps I could regard the males as the uncivilized brutes, except that I have twentyeight female hosts who were just as eager as the males to raid and murder my burrow. Are these two somehow daughters of renown, or the result of especially noble families?”
“These two display the best traits of their folk, and their path here has been unique,” Bemere said. “I do not believe they come from any special lineage. Twyla is a foundling, given to the Pale College to raise.”
“While Kaylie was a shareholder’s daughter,” Gwyenth said. “Wholly unremarkable until she caught the attention of the Mother of Trees.”
“What sets them apart from the ones who came here looking for loot and violence? What should I make of this? Can you tell me what guides the path of a Human? Obviously, it is not an allegiance to Law. I have asked them, but none of them had two answers alike.”
“Humans seem to be pulled by two spirits, light and darkness, good and evil, or chaos and order,” Bemere said. “But very few manage to attain purity of either. The Humans that I know well choose some middle ground, constantly pulled back and forth at every step.”
“They follow no gods or heroes?” Khivu asked.
“They follow the same deities as anyone else, but do not seem especially bound to any single Divine. Instead, their leaders come from conquest, not wisdom. Their governance is flawed from the start. Humans are spurred toward progress and improvement but rarely agree on what course their betterment should follow.”
“It is a wonder that they’ve managed to organize anything at all. Or has that all been the work of their Selenic friends?” Khivu asked.
“No, matriarch. Our envoys and emissaries could not lead them, they are their own folk and not some sort of misbegotten fae for us to correct. Were they as longlived as other folk, our task would be much easier, but life is rarely as one might wish. So, our efforts have been to provide their kingdoms and empires a measure of stability so that their drive to become more may be guided by a measure of wisdom. It seems like an endless task at times, and all too often, a heartbreaking burden that must be repeated again and again.”
“You paint an alarming portrait,” Khivu said.
“They can be an alarming folk,” Bemere agreed. “But our dismay at their behavior does not make Human actions inevitably evil.”
Khivu smiled. “Spoken as a true diplomat. Give me your advice then; were you the matriarch here and now, how would you proceed?”
“Khivu Ataphalis, I do not think you will like my answer,” Bemere said, after some thought.
The matriarch smiled. “Ekih taught me that those are the answers I must consider most closely.”
“A wise teacher. My advice is to create an alliance with the Humans.”
“You were correct, serah; I don’t like your answer. Tell me why I would join those that attacked my children?”
“Not Cyannous of course. Humanity cannot be treated as a single thing, any more than your burrow is identical to any other. But I think you would find the Brynjarl Sands very welcoming. They are nearby and their rulers tend toward wisdom. The current prince and princess are friends and I judge they would be delighted to find a new trading partner and friend.”
“How would I trust that their wise leadership will continue? As you have explained, Human lives are short, and one may never be sure of their intentions.”
“The Brynjarl Sands are a unique example. Our nations have been close allies and friends for nearly a hundred human generations. We have always found them to be honorable allies, and I have counted many of them as trusted friends.”
Khivu cocked her head slightly. “Then would you be willing to act as the first messenger between this burrow and Brynjarl Sands?”
“It would be my honor,” Bemere said, bowing. “I trust that my queen would agree that this matter is far more important than my earlier tasks.”
“I find that I need advice for Humans, and I get a watcher of Humans. Your Green Mother, or our Father Darkness have shown great favor to our burrow in bringing you here.”
“Perhaps it is both,” Gwyenth said. “I know of no enmity between the Father of Darkness and the Green Mother.”
Khivu inclined her head. “This is truth. Pera Sonbro bids that we love the Goddess as She loves all life, whether Understone or in the Lands of the Sky. Tell me, Gwyenth; how would the High fae respond to…”
An hour and a half later, after they had finished their counsel, they rejoined the others in the main chamber. Bemere had worried how well Twyla was dealing with such a novel situation and was relieved to see that she was sitting next to Kaylie and the pair was in an animated conversation with Anniak and Gruni.
Khivu sighed happily as she slipped into the water of the largest pool. Anniak looked up and smiled when she saw Bemere. She stood up, her skirt and bandeau shedding the water and went to retrieve a familiar looking case.
“The rest of your belongings will follow soon, but I thought you might have need for this sooner than the rest,” she said, presenting it to Bemere.
“You have my deepest gratitude,” Bemere said, taking the box of pegos.
“I made sure everything was completely clean and ordered,” Anniak said quietly. “There are some very interesting shapes there. I found myself quite curious how some of them were used.”
Despite the time spent with Twyla, the close presence of the matriarch had quickly restored Bemere’s need, hotter and more urgent than before. After a glance to make sure her human companion was settled, she smiled at the Aphostic elf.
“I’d be happy to explain if you’d like.”
Anniak reached out, running a fingertip over Bemere’s arm. “Your selfcontrol is quite extraordinary. As my own fertile time is coming soon, I would be most grateful if you would share any techniques.”
“It would be my pleasure,” Bemere said, a little thickly. “Is there a spot a little out of the way?”
~~~
Sitting together on the edge of the pool, Kaylie and Twyla watched as Bemere and Anniak embraced tightly, hands already pulling at each other’s clothing. Twyla’s nipples hardened as she saw Anniak’s thigh press between Bemere’s, knowing how wonderful that pressure felt.
“I see that you are not afflicted with some terrible jealousy,” Kaylie teased, brushing a finger over the dimple Twyla’s hard nipple made in her bandeau.
“Not at all,” Twyla chuckled. “Unless you had some plan to distract me.”
Kaylie moved closer until their legs and hips were touching as her fingers continued to tease Twyla’s nipple. “I’m very accomplished in the arts of distraction.”
Twyla began to breathe harder, putting her arm around Kaylie. “I see that, maybe pinch just a little harder?”
“Let’s just get this out of the way,” Kaylie murmured in her ear, loosening the cloth around Twyla’s breasts.
~~~
“It’s heartening to see our guests so enthusiastically taking part,” Gruni said to Khivu. “Do you think that you’ll have to order my mate to join us?”
Khivu turned to where Donag had settled, back to the wall and facing the door.
“There are a dozen warriors outside of that door,” Khivu called. “Come and join us. Here, tonight, your matriarch requests that you remember our old friendship more than the recent changes.”
Donag thought for a moment. “Can I pretend to forget?”
“Come to me and you can pretend whatever you like,” Khivu said, running her hands down her sides.
Donag came to join them but the woebegone look on his face made Gruni laugh. “This is hardly torture, ohsoserious one!”
“No, bathing with you two is never torture,” he agreed, disrobing. “But you know that I vowed to protect her.”
“The closer you are, the more potent your care becomes,” Khivu said. “Anyway, we were children when you swore me that.”
“The Law has no age, it was a true vow and…” Donag’s sonorous voice was cut off as Khivu kissed him, wiggling onto his lap. Four of her legs wrapped around him, pulling them tightly together.
After kissing Donag, Khivu turned to Gruni and pulled her close. “I’ve been thinking of you both all day,” the matriarch said.
~~~
Anniak guided Bemere down to one of the many piles of pillows scattered around the bathing chamber. Bemere, her lust fully reawakened and growing stronger by the moment, bit her lip to keep from screaming out as Anniak ran her sharp fingernails up Bemere’s thigh.
“Your scent is so strong,” the Dark elf murmured in her ear. “You’ve gone too long without relief.”
“Your teasing is not helping.” Bemere groaned as Anniak’s deft fingers loosened the sash around her waist.
“Apologies,” the Aphostic elf said, the smile on her face giving lie to the sentiment. “This may help.”
Bemere gasped as the other woman’s fingers traced her lower lips, opening them gently. Her stomach clenched repeatedly in minor orgasms as fingers slid inside of her . A much stronger orgasm followed as Anniak found the small gland deep inside.
“Your Seed of Life is overengorged,” Anniak said quietly. “You’ve had far too much stimulation and not enough relief.”
“As I said, a condition that you are not helping,” Bemere panted.
Anniak smiled and sat back, tasting the fingers she’d had inside. “I’m sure you’d agree that an accurate diagnosis must be made before treatment. Yes, I can taste the humor in your wetness.”
Bemere sat up slightly to see Anniak opening the pego case. She selected one of the longer phalli and looked down at Bemere.
“In all seriousness, emptying it all at once will be…intense,” Anniak said. “Are you ready?”
“My moans and wet cunt haven’t given it away?”
Anniak kissed Bemere’s lips lightly and pressed the head of the pego between Bemere’s lips. The orgasms were stronger this time, her finally having something to squeeze. The curve of the pego slid a little deeper and Bemere shuddered as it brushed over her Seed of Life, releasing more of the lust humor into her blood.
“There we are,” Anniak said to herself.
A moment later, there was an agonizing pleasurepain as the other elf firmly pressed the pego against the gland. Bemere’s body went rigid and she groaned deeply. After several seconds she fell back against the cushions, eyes opening.
“That is a huge relief,” she panted. “You have my thanks….”
Bemere’s eyes went wide as the flood of lustful humors surged into her mind. Anniak smiled down at her.
“Yes, it will take some time for the effects of all that ichor to dissipate.”
Bemere grabbed Anniak’s hand, making her shove the pego deeper. The Dark elf laughed and began her harder. The orgasms washed over Bemere, one after another, pushing her deep into a blissful, erotic haze.
As Bemere finally returned to her mind, she realized that there were several hands stroking her body while two mouths nibbled and teased her from neck to nipples. Between her legs, someone’s tongue. She saw Twyla and Kaylie pressed close on either side and Anniak’s ravendark hair spread across her thighs.
“Welcome back,” Twyla said quietly.
Kaylie looked up at Bemere, a wicked smile on her face. “That was most impressive.”
Anniak looked up at Bemere, face wet. “You should not have waited so long.”
There were moans and gasps echoing around her as well and Bemere lifted her head to look around. She saw Gwyenth first, held over Gruni’s mouth. The Plaflakhi’s tongue was pressed deep inside the High elf’s . Gwyenth eyes were shut and there was a euphoric expression on her face.
Near them was another tangle of limbs. After a moment, Bemere saw Donag, Khivu, and Axit writhing slowly together, all of them moaning and gasping.
Anniak took another pego from the case, a replica of a thick faeshaped cock, and held it up for Bemere to see.
“This one next, I think.”
Bemere’s eyes closed, her back slowly arching as the heavy mass filled her. They shifted around her, but Bemere barely noticed as the sensation of pego was joined by a new, eager tongue.
~~~
“How is she doing?” Kaylie asked Twyla as the pair sat breast deep in the warm water.
“Mistress Anniak said that her mind has gone to commune with a kyickmur and that she’ll return soon. I’d imagine that the poor dear is exhausted.”
“With good reason,” Kaylie said. “I never thought I’d see anyone cum for three straight hours.”
“Mistress Anniak is going to show me the best way to drain her each evening,” Twyla said. “I’m supposed to insist.”
Kaylie’s hand drifted to Twyla’s thigh, stroking it gently. “With respect, she’s a fool if she makes you insist. May I join the lesson? Maybe I’ll be able to surprise Gwyenth with something new.”
Twyla spread her legs as Kaylie’s fingers slid closer. “I’d like that very much. Are the two of you…I’m not sure the term to use. Married?”
Kaylie grinned. “No, and I hope that I’m never deranged enough to consider it. We keep each other warm as necessary. Boreas is my one true love and partner, but their cycles of arousal are complicated and don’t match others needs as well.”
“You haven’t mentioned him before,” Twyla said. “Is he waiting for you somewhere?”
“It’s been hectic. You know that we ride gryphons?”
The blonde woman stared at her. “Those are real? ”
Kaylie laughed. “I’ll take you up and introduce you in a bit. They’re likely out hunting.”
“And you….”
Kaylie nodded. “Oh yes. Would you like to hear about it?”
Twyla nodded, starting to breathe harder as Kaylie’s fingers found their mark.
The four them took a much needed break from the revelry of the burrow and withdrew to the little camp perched on the high terrace. Twyla and Kaylie had fallen asleep as soon as they’d laid down. Bemere and Gwyenth packed their pipes and smoked quietly, leaning against Ouranos’ warm flank as they talked.
“Back to the Sands then,” Gwyenth said.
“After a short detour back to Grand Locks. Twyla is supposed to return to the Pale College on a canal boat, and I’ll venture over Gateman’s Notch to return to Brynjarl Sands on Khivu’s mission and send a long letter back to my own court.”
“I know that you cannot admit your true task,” Gwyenth said, going slightly crosseyed as she studied the embers in her pipe. “That being said, Ouranos heard news that Mad Gregor has finally met his fate. He was at one of those barbaric tournament things, carousing and managed to get himself kicked in the head performing some rustic prank. Dead where he fell.”
Bemere raised an eyebrow but Gwyenth shook her head. “It wasn’t us.”
“Nor us. That is to say, the Selenic court.”
Gwyenth raised her own skeptical eyebrow. “Would you know if it was?”
“Definitely, the Executors employ subtle poisons, difficult to detect. This sounds more like low comedy.”
“Maybe it wasn’t a mortal’s doing then.”
“One of the Divines?” Bemere said doubtfully. “If they decided to act, why didn’t they move sooner? There was no need to allow that fool to raise a single army, let alone three. Now the land goes untended, bringing famine and yet more pointless death. Even the Blood Drinker is not so ruthless.”
Gwyenth immediately made a warding gesture. “Let’s not start questioning actions of the Divines, hmm? No good ever comes of it.”
“I’m sure that my Mother of Trees already knows of my sorrow, as an echo of her own,” Bemere said. “I have spent much time considering the situation, and whatever killed him, the life of the Mad MacGregor is a rebuke for the policies of my court. Had the Selenic Lady reacted even a bit sooner, a simple adjustment of the matter would have spared thousands of lives.”
Gwyenth shook her head, amused. “Not content with questioning the actions of the Divines, now you criticize the Selene herself? Perhaps you’ve had enough clover.”
“I am permitted to have my own thoughts.”
The Golden elf looked at her. “Those were words, not thoughts, my friend. Among most of the Golden, that would be enough. And I think you are correct in that our Green Mother deeply grieves those lives, may She ever take her children along smooth paths and quiet waters.”
“On and ever on,” Bemere replied surprised. Still, her fingers moved almost automatically, casting the Green Mother’s glyph.
“You look surprised,” Gwyenth said. “Did they tell you that all the Goldens follow BloodDrinker or KnifeintheDarkness?”
“It’s not that bad, but I never considered the Golden as particular lovers of lives beyond their own. I’m happy to be proven wrong.”
“Her worship is not widespread, but She is respected, and I am one of Her faithful. Another strange coincidence in our improbable meeting. I swear that this is the last time I will ask; is your presence here purely accidental?”
Bemere snorted. “I would think that my constant ignorance and mistakes would be enough to put your mind at rest about secret plans.”
“Daughter, I must correct you,” Twyla said, sitting up. “You both follow My plans.”
Their chuckles died in their throats as she stood and faced them. Bemere’s pipe fell from her nerveless fingers. Twyla’s blue eyes had been replaced by a emerald green orbs that glowed brightly. Ouranos and Boreas woke with startled snorts as they leapt to their feet. Then both gryphons lowered their heads to the stone, soft growls of adoration coming from deep in their throats.
“Hello, my dearest ones,” Twyla said, putting a hand on each of their heads. “As ever, your folk are a pleasure to delight My eyes but I have come to speak to your smaller companions and must not blight my herald’s mind.”
Despite Her words, the gryphons stayed close on either side, keeping their heads under Her hands. Smiling down at them, She went to where Bemere and Gwyenth knelt, faces to the ground.
“That will not do. Meet Me on your feet, champions.”
Gwyenth and Bemere glanced at each other as they climbed to their feet.
“Each of you has found your way along a torturous path to this moment and I am most pleased. You have seen the monstrous burdens and miseries that are visited upon the Humans. I have watched and waited, hoping that their siblings would show them the way forward, side by side. Instead, I find My elder children heaping misery and death on the youngers. I was patient, but that has come to an end.”
Behind them, there was another startled gasp and then muffled thrashing as Kaylie threw her blankets off and jumped to her feet. Surrounded by the power and emotions of the Green Lady, Bemere felt the bubbling amusement as Kaylie saw them and dropped to her knees.
“Thus comes the beginning of My war, as you are My beloved champions, even through your darkest moments. Journey with My love and regard and we will speak further, in time.”
The green light in Twyla’s eyes disappeared as they closed, and she began to collapse. They both grabbed her, joined a moment later by Kaylie. Twyla opened her eyes and blearily squinted at them.
“All three of you? At once?” she muttered. “No, that’s just ridiculous, wait until morning.”
Still giddy from the power that had swirled around them, the elves held back laughter as they halfcarried Twyla back to her blankets.
“I’ll stay with her,” Kaylie said. “The Mother of Trees spoke in my dream; she bids me to say two words; Asterlith and Hawthorne.”
Yawning, she laid down next to Twyla, cuddled close and fell into a deep sleep again. The gryphons grumblechattered at Gwyenth before they stretched out on either side of the humans. The two elves found a place to sit back down and were silent for time.
“I’ve been trading letters with a small group of trusted friends,” Bemere finally said. “We share views on…forbidden subjects.”
“I wonder at what the Plenilune could possibly consider forbidden,” Gwyenth said. “With that in mind, you must trust your friends deeply.”
“Not so deeply as to reveal our names,” Bemere said.
Gwyenth smiled. “Truly. I’ve always wondered what ‘Asterlith’ was.”
Bemere laughed. “It’s a kind of grass in the Plenilune lands. Very tough and nearly impossible to eradicate.”
“An excellent name. I assume that you’ve encountered Hawthorne trees in your travels.”
“Of course, a beautiful tree and wonderfully thorny. I don’t think I could ever have guessed that you were High fae, let alone a Cloud Ghost. Your treatise on shadow diplomacy was fascinating.”
Gwyenth stared at the sky long enough that Bemere wondered if she’d invoked a valour, but she eventually looked at Bemere.
“In our own ways, we’ve spent our lives preventing war,” Gwyenth said quietly. “How do we break faith with all those lost friends? Has it all been a waste?”
“I’m reminded of my father saying that the bearer of a message is as important as the message itself. Chali BloodDrinker did not visit us, it was the Green Lady, Mother of Trees. I doubt there will be the armies like those we remember.”
“A visit from KnifeintheDarkness is just as fatal as some archer’s bolt,” Gwyenth warned.
Bemere laughed. “We have another saying; best to not sleep alone.”
Gwyenth rolled her eyes. “Is that the Plenilune answer to everything?”
“It’s a solution that works far more often than you’d think,” Bemere said, pulling her closer.
This ends the first adventure of Bemere and Twyla, champion and herald of the Mother of Trees
More from Supernatural
