The Knight and the Acolyte Book 6, Chapter 6: Bounty Hunter Surprise
The Knight and the Acolyte
Book Six: Heart's Longing
Chapter Six: Bounty Hunter Surprise
Note: Thanks to B0b for beta reading this.
Lady Delilah – Black Glass Aerie, The Island of Birds
The ladder creaked while the wind whipped at my long, red hair. It danced about my naked shoulders. Energy burned through my body from the alchemical drink Fredagest gave me. The gnome bounty hunter climbed above me, her small body navigating the ladder with ease.
The sun rose, painting the basalt cliff of Mount Peritito in highlights of orange. Fredagest was confident in her alchemical creations' ability to capture Angela. She wore a bandoleer studded with various clay bombs. I didn't know much of alchemy, but it could accomplish many effects.
But was it enough to stop Angela and her party? If I was correct, the final companion prophesied by the Sekar Oracle would be here—the nameless shaman. I had traveled the world, seeking out each of the companions, piecing together the cryptic hints. Angela, Sophia, Xerathalasia, Faoril, Thrak, Chaun, and Xandra.
It had taken manipulation, nudging Thrak's father to send his son to the human lands to learn culture, preventing Xandra from achieving her flight form with Cnawen's Mirror, encouraging Sophia's mother to send her to the temple, implanting the idea in young Angela's mind to be a knight, plotting with Minx. So many dangers to be defeated.
King Edward, Doge Aurelius, and the Goddess Slata all were her enemies now. And she would gather more on the day her destiny would be proclaimed.
The avians of Black Glass Aerie stirred as we reached the top. A fire pit smoldered nearby, the ground on the ledge, covered in soft sand, disturbed by footprints. A festivity happened. I cast my eyes about, searching for Angela and her companions. In the form of an elf, my senses were far keener than my usual body.
“Do you see any trace of them, Adeliatholaria?” asked Fredagest, her goggles pulled down over her eyes. The gnome stood up to my waist, the same height as a halfling.
“Footprints,” I answered. “Heading to that ladder.”
Will I have to kill you?
I studied Fredagest. Did she really have the skill to defeat Angela? Fredagest had some idea of Angela and her companions' capabilities. The gnome had a reputation of being skilled and had captured two warlocks, mages who had broken the laws of the Magery Council.
“They have left for the caldera,” Fredagest said, peering up the mountain. Ladders climbed up the side of the mountain, connecting a series of jutting ledges. The avians stared down at them. Some took to the air as birds, spiraling down to Fredagest and I.
This would be a bad place for me to kill. If I lost control, so many innocents could perish. I promised my husband. He had tamed me. I would not break my word unless I had to. Unless I had to preserve his legacy and save Angela.
A white roc landed before us. The avian's form blurred as he transformed into an old man, arms folded behind his back. His eyes were piercing. “More strangers.”
Fredagest reached into her pocket and pulled out a scroll. “I have a warrant for the arrest of Knight-Errant Angela and her companions, issued by the Doge of Raratha. By treaties between the League of Seven and the aeries of Mount Peritito, I ask for your assistance in apprehending the fugitives.”
Xandra – Mount Peritito's Caldera, The Island of Birds
I trembled as the imps surged forward from the caldera. The volcano's heart glowed red from the boiling magma pool. Sulfurous smoke belched out of the pool, rising about the sanctum built on the island in the center where a small, stone shrine had been constructed. A stone walkway connected the island and the building to the surrounding basalt.
The imps poured out of the magma pool, climbing over the walls. They hissed and cackled, creatures the size of Minx, their bodies red and bent, horns jutting from their heads. They bounded forward, their cocks erect, their hands stroking their shafts.
“Luben's promise,” I gasped and pressed myself to Chaun's side as the rest of the party spread out.
My husband, his silvery hair waving in the hot air boiling out of the caldera, winked at me. He opened his case and pulled out a lyre. My tribe made simple instruments since our voices were capable of creating much beauty on their own. This was finely crafted, a work of a master. The body polished, the strings thin and stretched taught. Chaun strummed his fingers along them.
A heroic song burst from his lips. I took a deep breath, the music reaching into me, soothing down my fear. I didn't have to be scared. Now wasn't the time. It was the time for actions. For bravery. I shoved my hand into my pouch and pulled out my earth totem, my heart beating to Chaun's song.
Angela shouted her battle cry, her shield hefted, her sword raised. Sophia was at her side, holding a glowing, pink dagger. Thrak unlimbered his mighty, two-handed ax. Minx held her sharp daggers, and Xera's bow twanged as her arrow took an imp in the throat.
I laughed, gripping my totem, and summoned an earth elemental. It formed out of the basalt and burst to life at my feet, squat, made of jagged angles of volcanic stone. My will flowed through my totem and into the elemental. I controlled it, and it rumbled forward.
Chaun's eyes flashed. He nodded at me.
I summoned a second elemental as the imps reached the party.
I grimaced at the disgusting imps, hating their sharp horns, slashing claws, and hard cocks. They masturbated, spurting white jizz as they raced forward in a frenzy of lust and anger. Angela's sword slashed, chopping through an imp and throwing it to the ground.
I moved up behind her, stabbing an imp in the eye as it tried to flank my lover. Its cock erupted and splattered my robe as it fell dead at my feet. I wrinkled my nose as I spun and stabbed again, catching another imp in the throat.
“These things are the most disgusting creature's we've fought,” I gasped.
Angela bashed her shield into the face of an imp then her sword slashed out at a second. “They're horny beasts.”
“Las and his disgusting seed.” The God of Lust had to masturbate over the world and spawn so many foul monsters.
“And they are endowed,” Angela said. Her booted foot kicked out, snapping an imp's head back. “Very well endowed for their size.”
“Oh, don't get turned on,” I groaned.
“No. Trying not to throw up.” I thrust, and my enchanted dagger killed another imp. But more kept coming. How many were there?
An imp let out a gibbering moan. I spun just in time for an arc of white cum to spurt at me. I jumped back, the jizz landing on the dark rocks at my feet. Anger boiled through me. I was dedicated to Saphique, and these filthy things kept trying to pollute me.
“Slata's hairy cunt!” I slashed and cut its throat, Chaun's music pumping through my veins.
Another imp rushed at me.
Faoril froze as Chaun's music thrummed through the air. Her face paled, a vial of cum gripped in her hand. A tremble shook her body, a wild spasm. Her eyes widened. A surge of anger roared through me. I let her distract me last night when I tried to talk about her fear of her magic.
And now it was too late.
“Come on,” I growled, pulling Faoril with me. She stumbled, dropping the vial of cum. It shattered on the black rock.
“Thrak,” she gasped.
I pushed her into a cranny in the wall and then swung my greataxe, killing two of the filthy beasts. I gripped my ax with both hands, swinging hard. The basalt teemed with them. More and more crawled over the lip of the caldera and bounded at us, jerking their dicks.
“Am afraid of your magic.”
“I'm not.” A hint of anger entered her voice.
“You are scared of it. I understand. You made a mistake. But we need it. Do you see how many of them there are?”
“I am not scared. I'm a mage.” She paused. “I was a mage.”
“Then use your magic.”
I split an imp's head with my ax and kicked its body into the horde. They gibbered and snarled, stroking their cocks. They wanted to fuck me, Faoril, everyone. My fist smashed into another's face, shattering its skull.
That made a satisfying sound.
“Why aren't you using your magic,” I asked, “if it doesn't scare you?”
“I don't need to, Thrak.”
“Because it scares you.”
“You're one to talk.” The anger burned in her voice.
“You're afraid of your rage, Thrak. How can you accuse me of being afraid of my magic?”
The rage rose inside of me, a dark tide. It had to be controlled. I pushed it down. “You can control your magic, Faoril. It doesn't control you. It doesn't make you kill and kill and kill.”
“But I can't control it.” Her voice quavered “II can't. Gods, Thrak, I almost killed you.”
“But you can.” I set my teeth. I charged out into the imps. “I'll prove it.”
“Gewin's mighty cock,” I hissed as pain burned across my thigh. My sword slashed down, cutting off the imp's head who clawed me.
“Are you okay?” Sophia asked, her back pressed behind me. The imps had us surrounded. I swung my sword, and she stabbed her dagger to keep them at bay.
I scanned the battlefield. Minx and Xera fought with daggers while Xandra protected Chaun with her small earth elementals as he strummed his instrument. The music bolstered me. It sang with my heart, keeping the fear away and replacing it with courageous resolve.
We would defeat the imps.
“Thrak's down,” gasped Sophia.
“Illth's poxed cock,” I groaned. “I don't think we can cut our way to him. Why isn't Faoril doing anything?”
“Besides being fucked?” Sophia asked. “I don't know. Maybe she didn't swallow any cum.”
A moment of doubt that we would be killed by the horde of imps was banished by Chaun's stirring song. “We need to keep fighting. We're winning, Sophia. Let's work our way to Thrak and help him out.”
“Yes,” she answered, her voice so fierce, so brave.
“Thrak, we're coming!” I shouted.
Xandra's voice sang with mine as she stood beside me, her soft-blue hair billowing about her shoulders. She had already learned the melody so fast. Her voice was beautiful. I almost stopped playing so I could listen to her harmony. She gripped her earth totem in her hand, directing the elementals as she broke my heart with the beauty of her song.
And she was untrained. It was all natural talent. To my knowledge, no avian had ever ventured to the College of Az. Last night, I heard her aerie sing. They were all as talented. What could she do if she spent years studying musical theory? If she understood how to manipulate emotions through the most ancient of magic?
She would be amazing.
Xandra shone with her married aura. I danced in her thoughts. She was intoxicating. Perfect. My wife. Her sapphire eyes met mine, a smile on her lips as she sang. She was so different than the women I normally gravitated towards. Slim, petite, youthful. No maturity. No experience.
And yet she was perfect.
And she inspired me. I put more effort into my song. I let my fingers dance across the lyre. I had to match her song. Our voice harmonized, her soprano and my tenor. Tears burned in my cheeks. I think I loved her.
I thought I loved Adelaide. Maybe I always would. But she was lost. I would never enjoy her again. Her husband had seen to that. But Xandra My wife. The first changeling wife. I think I could love her for eternity.
Her eyes slid to the imps. They fought against her four elementals, trying to get past the punching rocks. The foul things masturbated. Cum dripped from the basalt homunculi. Color blossomed in her eyes as she stared at the imps thick dicks.
A hint of lust entered her song followed immediately by guilt.
She was so innocent.
My cheeks burned as I sang while controlling my elementals. The imps' cocks were huge. As big as Chaun's, but bumpy and so red. A wave of heat washed out of my pussy as I stared at them. What would they feel like—
No. Guilt surged through me. How could I lust after their cocks? I was mated last night. I stood beside my husband. I lifted my eyes and concentrated on my elementals. My magic reached out like strings from the totem, anchoring to the elementals bodies. They resided in the back of my mind. I gave them orders, tugging on their limbs, forcing them to swing.
That was what I needed to focus on. That and the song.
It was wonderful to sing with Chaun. His voice was so rich and the skill of his lyre I made the right choice.
More imps pressed at us, gibbering, “Fuck! Pussy! Cum!” over and over. Their jizz spurted, splashing on my elementals. I felt the sensations like a distant memory. I bit my lip, more excitement surging through me.
Why did it excite me? It was so filthy. My poor elementals were covered in the imps' foul seed.
Anger surged through me. How dare these disgusting things want to fuck me. I was married. They needed to stop masturbating. I conjured a fifth elemental, small like the others, allowing me to control so many. A new awareness surged in my mind. I could see through all five of my elementals. I controlled all their movements. It was like I was six different people all at once.
Singing grew harder as my elementals punched those disgusting imps.
“Thrak, we're coming!” Angela shouted.
I blinked and then looked for the large orc. “No,” I gasped. “Chaun.”
“Why isn't Faoril using her magic?” Chaun asked.
“She's being” I grimaced. “That's disgusting.”
“We have to help her. Project our song in her direction.”
I blinked at my husband. “You can do that?”
A grin spread across his midnight face. “Yes, I can.”
I mated such an amazing male.
I trembled in the alcove of volcanic rock, my heart screaming louder than Chaun's music. Thrak strode into the tide of imps, his ax laying into them left and right. Body parts flew and imps fell dead. But their numbers were inexhaustible.
Imps are creatures born of the God of Lust's seed landing in pools of magma. They are the heat of the earth given depraved life. They live to orgasm, constantly stroking their cocks. If their seed falls in any pool of magma or lava, new imps are born. They breed faster than rats. An infestation is almost impossible to destroy. Quarantine is the best solution.
I shook my head. Remembering my lessons was not the solution to the problem of thousands of gibbering, cumming fiends swarming me. I clutched my hand to my red robes. My fingers stroked the fabric as I trembled.
I couldn't use my magic. What if I lost control again? I could kill one of my friends. Thrak.
“Fuck,” cackled an imp bounding towards me. It had slipped past Thrak's sphere of swinging death.
Move hand. Seize the vial. I had to grab it. I had to protect myself.
But why? I wasn't a mage any longer. It would only be a matter of days before the Magery Council learned I dueled Master Mage Yolun. I broke the rules of the council. Soon, they would strip me from the council, declare me a warlock, and write orders for my execution.
My dreams were over. I would never gain the black. So why should I even fight?
The imp leaped at me, grasping its huge, red cock with one hand. It landed on me, claws ripping at my robe. My right breast popped out. It let out a gibbering moan before its hungry mouth latched onto my nipple, sucking hard.
I groaned as my body responded to its hot mouth. Its clawed hand gripped my tit. I groaned at the sharp scratches burning across my tit. It felt right. Exciting. I didn't fight. I leaned into the alcove as it ripped open my robe.
A thick cock rubbed on my belly, smearing hot precum across my flesh. Dirtying me. I liked being dirty. Used. A monster's whore. It was easier than using my magic. I couldn't hurt anyone as a whore. I would just be fucked.
Its cock slid down my belly and brushed my pubic hair. My thighs parted. “Fuck me,” I hissed, closing my eyes. The tip of its cock was so hot against my pussy.
“Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!” the imp gibbered between sucks of my nipple.
“Yes, fuck. Las's filthy cock, fuck me! Take me. I want it. Ram that thick—”
The imp thrust. His cock slammed into the depths of my pussy. I gasped at its heat, warmer than any cock I had taken. It was thick and covered with small bumps stimulating my cunt. Its hips hammered me as it gripped both my breasts with its hands, its slim legs tight about my hips.
“Hot pussy. Fuck!”
“Yes,” I groaned, my hips undulating. His cock reached so deep into my cunt. He stirred me up. I didn't need magic to be a whore. I could never hurt anyone with my cunt.
“Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!”
It sucked on my nipples, moving back and forth. Nipping with sharp teeth, shooting needle-like pain down to my pussy. My cunt clenched down on his cock. My pussy dripped with juices. His thrusts made wet, obscene sounds. His hard flesh slapped into my labia and clit, adding more pleasure to my body.
My eyes rolled back, staring up at the basalt ceiling wreathed in yellow fumes. Its hands tightened on my breasts, claws pricking my tits. I savored the pain. I embraced it, feeding to my depraved lusts. I groaned and gasped.
An imp's whore.
“Yes, yes, fuck my cunt. Oh, Gods, yes. Pater's cock. Mmm, you're thrusting so hard. So fast.”
And it fucked faster and faster, hips thrusting like the frantic beat of a hummingbird's wings. The bumpy cock stimulated my flesh. My back arched as the pleasure swelled through me. I screamed out my pleasure.
“Cum!” it hissed, pumping hard. “Cum in hot cunt!”
“Yes,” I moaned. “Cum in my hot cunt. Flood me with your jizz. Gods, yes. I want it.”
“Faoril!” Thrak roared, but I didn't care. The pleasure crested in me.
“Fuck me! Cum in me! Use me! I'm your whore!”
“Whore! Cunt! Cum!”
The imp slammed his cock deep into my cunt. Its small body contorted, horned face bursting with pleasure. Hot cum flooded my pussy. I gasped, my flesh absorbing the heat. My pussy spasmed as his jizz propelled me to my climax.
“Yes!” I screamed as I thrashed in the alcove. The pleasure raced through my body. A hot wave of heat that left me trembling.
And the imp kept fucking me. His jizz flooded out of my cunt, pressed out by his thick cock. He was still hard. Still wanting to use me. I groaned, riding the wave of heat to the heights of bliss. I embraced it, loving how filthy and—
Magic flared in me. The cum I had reserves of power. My magic yearned to be used. I could cast spells and sweep the imps back into the lava. Protect Thrak.
“No, no, no,” I gasped, tears falling down my cheeks, the pleasure fleeing me. How could I be a whore when a male's seed powered my magic?
“Faoril,” Thrak called again. “Help.”
I blinked through my tears. The imp kept rutting in my cunt. I hated it. I wanted it off my body. I pushed on its shoulders, ignoring the reserve of energy building inside of me aching to be unleashed. A simple use of air would rip the imp from—
Thrak fell, pulled down by the imps. They leaped on his body, swarming over him like ants over a fallen plum. My heart constricted. Thrak needed me. He needed my magic to save him. My heart constricted.
But if I didn't
I couldn't let Thrak die. I had to help him. I had to
Why was Thrak in danger? Why did he wade out into the imps? “You're trying to force me to use magic.”
It was so obvious. He put himself in danger. And now he was overwhelmed. Whether he let himself be pulled down or not, he needed my help now. The bastard. He didn't leave me any choice other than to watch him die.
“Damn you, Thrak.” My fear coiled about my stomach. The imp cackled as it hammered my pussy. Another spurt of hot cum flooded my cunt. More power to use. More chance to hurt my friends while saving the orc I love. “Las damn your cock, Thrak!”
I seized my magic. I felt sick. I wanted to vomit. I would kill them all. Angela, Chaun, Sophia, Xera, Minx, and Xandra. I would leave them dead like Relaria. But what choice did I have? None. Thrak left me with none.
I hated him for it. Why couldn't he leave it alone? Why did he have to fix me? I didn't need magic. I wasn't a mage any longer.
I seized the air and ripped the imp from me. His dick, still cumming, splashed my face with hot jizz. I licked my lips, ingesting more power to be used. The imp cackled, his back arching as he kept cumming.
I hurtled the imp into one of the foul things atop Thrak. Their bodies broke, spilling into their friends. I strode forward, anger boiling through me. “Damn you, Thrak!”
I gathered the air, forming a ball before me and compressing it. My torn open robes flapped as the hot air rushed to me. Chaun's music matched the beat of my heart. I stared at Thrak. If I killed him, it was what he deserved. I unleashed the ball of compressed air.
A huge wind bowled over imps before me on its way to strike the monsters crawling over my Thrak.
“They went through there,” Shaman Farsight said, rubbing his papery hands together before the roughly round shape of the cave entrance. “I told Xandra not to let the strangers in to the caldera. But she took one of the strangers as a mate.”
I gave him a look. “She did? Thrak?”
“The changeling.” Farsight let out a screeching laugh. “Fool child. He will break her heart. Non-avians do not understand monogamy. Your women are all temptresses, leading your males to break vows.”
His eyes leered at my naked body, his cock tenting the front of his kilt. He was an odious male.
“And you can lower the barrier to let us in there?” asked Fredagest, pointing to the undulating wall of water deeper in the cave..
“Wouldn't it be better to fight them out here?” I asked. “Wait for them to return.”
“The imps will be a distraction.” The gnome glanced at the small ledge we stood on. “And there is no room to maneuver here. We face seven individuals now. The orc worries me the most, but the elf will be an equal shot to you, yes?”
I nodded. “And don't forget the mage.”
Fredagest smiled. With her goggles covering her eyes, it gave the gnome a mad appearance. “I have a way to deal with the mage, shaman, bard, and priestess. The warriors concern me. Especially Thrak. Orcs are strong.”
“You've fought orcs?”
Fredagest nodded her head. Then she turned to the Shaman. “What should I do with Xandra? Her husband is wanted for arrest, but she had no part in what happened at the Saltspray Palace.”
“She goes with her husband,” Farsight answered. “A pity.”
Because you lusted after your young flesh? I fixed him a hard stare. The urge to snap his neck and—
No, control. I had pushed myself too hard the last few months, stretching myself.
“Drop the barrier,” Fredagest ordered, “and we'll take care of the strangers.”
The shaman nodded. “So long as you don't intrude on the sanctuary. It is a holy place the outsiders pollute.”
“We won't,” I promised. I stared at the cave. It had been a long time since I was last here.
The mighty wind struck the imps crowding on Thrak. I grit my teeth, fighting with the gust. It was a powerful blast, stronger than most storms. It was wind that could rip apart wooden buildings. And I had to keep it from touching Thrak. I had to control it, or he would be thrown with the imps.
Their foul, red bodies tumbled through the air, gibbering in shock. I cleared a path twenty feet wide through the horde of imps, hurtling them towards the caldera. They flew over the edge and fell into the lava, their bodies broken by the forces I unleashed.
Thrak lay in the center of the cleared path of imps, his body bleeding and stained in seed. “Thrak,” I shouted, rushing to him. “You bastard.”
“Faoril,” he groaned, lifting up, his face covered in bloody scratches. More adorned his chest and arms. He bled from everywhere.
“I could have killed you.” I reached him and glared. “You could have been sent tumbling into the lava with them.”
“I knew you wouldn't. I knew you could control it.”
I blinked. I did control it. I had to be so careful, to let the wind swirl over his body and pick up only the imps. I doubt he felt even a slight breeze. It took so much control and skill. My years of training had prepared me to work such delicate magic.
“You bastard. I was fine. I didn't need you to risk your life.”
“You can berate me later,” he said. “We're about to be mobbed.”
The imps surged into the cleared path towards us, their cocks spurting jizz before them. I groaned and then sent magic into the basalt rocks. The ground shook as two long cracks split the earth on either side of us. I burned through the imp's cum fast. It wasn't good for working air or earth magic. The imps at the front screeched and tried to stop running, but those at the back pushed them in. Dozens fell into the rifts.
I slammed the rifts shut as I reached into my pocket and pulled out a vial of Thrak's preserved cum and downed it.
“Doesn't it feel amazing not to be afraid of who you are?” he asked as he swung his ax and brained an imp.
I picked up a dozen imps with wind and crushed their bodies together. I wasn't afraid. I was a mage. No, a warlock. The council would strip me of my rank, but they couldn't take my abilities away. I controlled my magic. It would not control me. I was my magic.
“It does,” I answered. “But I am still angry at you, Thrak.”
“I can live with that.”
I glanced at him as he cleaved through more imps. He lived with the fear of who he was. His rage. He could have embraced it while he lay beneath the imps. He would have burst free and murdered them all before coming after his friends. After me.
He lived with fear of who he really was.
There had to be a way to use my magic and give him back his control. He didn't have to be afraid. I would do that for him. My thoughts wanted to drift into magical theory to figure out how to do it. But now wasn't the time.
We had to deal with the imps. I ripped at the earth, forming dozens of small, sharp projectiles. I hurtled them into the horde of imps, cutting them down.
And more boiled out of the magma.
I fired my last arrow, taking an imp in the eye. Minx darted past me, dancing with her nimble grace, a pair of knives in her hand. She cut and slashed without fear. She laughed, matching the cadence of Chaun and Xandra's song.
I pulled out my hardwood knife. I gripped it in my hand and fought with her, dancing beside Minx and slashing with my knife. Her laugh was infectious. I joined her. The laughter bubbled out of me, rising with the surge of excitement while my knife slashed to the stirring beat of Chaun's lyre.
“Faoril's back in the fight,” Minx said. “Wow, she is killing them by the dozens.”
“Good,” I nodded. I felt so much pity for Faoril. Whatever happened in the Saltspray Palace had scarred the young woman. Now she strode beside bloody Thrak, her robes torn open, the imps' cum running down her thighs.
The filthy things had hit me a few times with their spunk, and Minx had taken a facial. It still dripped down her bronze cheeks and clung to her metallic-red hair. But she didn't care. She danced around them and left them bleeding and gibbering on the ground.
Angela and Sophia reached Faoril and Thrak. Angela's wooden, kite-shaped shield dripped with imp cum. Even Sophia's robes bore traces of their stains. Faoril's magic surged around the four as a violent wind, knocking back imps.
“Xandra,” I said, turning to the avian. She stood beside her husband, her five elementals dancing around them. “We're moving. Clear us a path.”
The shaman bit her lip and nodded. She was young but handled herself well thanks to Chaun's song. Two of her elementals sank into the ground. Then it shook and rumbled. Imps before her and Chaun fell to the ground, unable to stand on the shifting basalt. With squawks, the imps fled. She and Chaun rushed forward.
“Let's go,” I said to Minx as I raced after the two, leaping over a pair of imps.
She laughed and followed.
Faoril's wind parted to let us in then closed behind us. Angela nodded to me. “We're all still up.”
“How many are there?” Sophia panted, glancing at the dead imps being swarmed by the living. “More and more keep coming.”
“That's the problem,” Faoril said. “Cumming. They're jerking off into the lava and making more. An imp's masturbation can breed three new imps in a heartbeat if his seed falls in the magma. And, as we can see, imps have no refractory period and can cum with very little stimulation.”
“Matar's cock,” I groaned. “Then defeating them is hopeless.”
“Looks like it,” Angela nodded. “Faoril, how long can you keep them at bay?”
“I have plenty of cum. Three vials of Xera's and another eight of Thrak's. Hours.”
“We should just head for the sanctum, get the sword piece, and retreat,” I said.
Angela nodded. “Xera's right. The avians do not need us to cleanse the imps. Right?”
“No, our barrier keeps them out.” Xandra glanced at Faoril, her eyes a little wild. “D-do you have any vials of Chaun's cum?”
“No,” Faoril answered. “I never bothered collecting from him. Changeling cum isn't more useful than orc.”
“But you've” The shaman swallowed and looked at her husband.
“Doesn't matter,” Angela said. “Let's go for the walkway. Faoril will keep them at bay.” She glanced at the mage. “I'm glad you'refeeling better.”
“Thanks to Thrak's stupidity.” Faoril glared at the orc. “I will keep them off of you, Angela. Let's get the piece of the High King's Sword.”
“Just like the prophecy said,” Xandra said. “The flaming woman promised the hero would come.”
“Flaming woman?” frowned Angela.
“She put the sword there and charged my ancestors to protect it.” Xandra clapped her hands. “And you're her. Chaun told me what the Lesbius Oracle proclaimed. You're the one we've been guarding it for. Go and claim your birthright, Angela.”
Faoril cleared a path for us to the walkway through the imps. It was artificial, built by shamans shaping the stone into a footbridge to the island at the center of the caldera. The magma boiled and bubbled below us, belching sulfur fumes. The heat whipped at us. The air grew hard to breathe, but we crossed nonetheless. A small shrine—erected in the same manner as the bridge and built out of the black, volcanic rock—awaited us.
Angela entered first. Everyone rushed after her while the imps pressed in at the edges of the protective wind. Sophia, Faoril, Xandra, Chaun, Minx, and Thrak entered. I went to follow when my ears twitched, shaking the four-leaf clover tucked behind my right ear.
I cast a look over my shoulder, frowning. I heard something over the gibbering imps, splattering cum, and howling wind. But the rising fumes were thick, choking off my vision. I bit my lip and studied where the obscured tunnel lay. Had someone ventured down it?
The imps ignored us, crowding the walkway that led to the shrine at the heart of the magma pool. I could only catch glimpses of it through the sulfur fumes. The magma bubbled and boiled, agitated like the imps.
Fredagest, crouching beside me at the entrance to the caldera, said, “Except for the elf, they all just entered the building. The elf's looking back here. I think she heard something.”
“She can't see us,” I answered. “The sulfur's too thick for elf eyes. But you can see her?”
“Goggles,” she answered. “The lenses are treated to see through thick smoke. I can also see in the dark and through about a foot of stone or an inch of metal.”
I blinked in surprise.
“Now the elf's inside. Good.” Fredagest pulled out a small, clay bomb from her bandoleer and hurled it the right. It was a great throw. The bomb crashed into the wall about a hundred feet from us. A crimson smoke burst from it.
“What's that for?”
The imps surged for the cloud. I caught a spicy whiff and a sudden heat surged through me. I groaned. My pussy grew wet, my nipples tingled, and my cock wanted to sprout. I glanced at the gnome, but Fredagest betrayed no signs of any arousal.
“Damiana. The imps have too much of Las in them. Even the smallest whiff will pull them to it and” She pointed were a growing ball of imps fucking each other swelled. The footbridge to the sanctum was clear. “I'll ambush the party there. I want you to climb the walls, find a good spot, and support me. First thing, put an arrow in Thrak's neck then kill any who try to attack me.”
“We're not taking them alive?”
“The Doge doesn't care. Besides, there are five listed in the bounty. Easier to take back heads then live prisoners.”
“I did not know you were so callous.”
“With a king's ransom on the line, I can be as callous as I need to.” Then she pulled out a shimmering cloak made of a fine material. She threw it over her shoulder and vanished.
“Pater's cock,” I gasped.
“Pater's cock?” the gnome frowned. “You don't curse in Matar's name?”
“And disrespect our mother goddess?” I gasped, forgetting I was in the form of an elf. I had lived with humans too long. “What is that?”
“Cloak made from panthopus hide treated with ectoplasm.”
She crept away. I heard her but could not spot her at all. I followed her advice and climbed. She was brash and confident. Would Angela and her companions have the strength to overcome the bounty hunter? Would any die?
Would I be forced to intervene? What if I lost control and killed Angela? Then all would be ruined. I could not, would not, betray my husband's vision.
It was a length of silver, adamantium blade, both ends shattered. I picked it up, the remnants of its power vibrating the metal. I closed my eyes, my heart beating faster. Three pieces claimed. I already had the pommel, hilt, and crossguard. And now I had the middle third of the blade. Only two more pieces to go, and then I would face the dragon.
“We did it,” squealed Sophia.
“The imps are withdrawing,” Xera said, peering out the door. “They are going to the wall to the left of the entrance.”
“What?” Thrak rumbled.
“I heard something.” Xera's ears twitched, the four-leaf clover tucked behind her right ear glittered with specks of gold. “We're not alone.”
I put the piece of the sword into my pouch with the other pieces. It weighed on my hip. “Thrak, at my side with Faoril right behind us. Minx and Xera, then Chaun and Sophia. Xandra, you and your elementals will protect the rear.”
“Okay,” the young avian squeaked. “Chaun?”
He put his arm around her. “It'll be okay.”
She gave him a quick kiss and nodded her head, her face so pale. She was so much like Sophia at the start of our journey. And now Sophia stood with blood on her dagger, her face set, ready to help fight our way out.
“Saphique protect us, even the men,” Sophia prayed. “They are our allies.”
“Thanks for thinking of us,” rumbled Thrak.
I hefted my shield and drew my sword. “Ready, Thrak?”
He nodded his head.
I burst out of the sanctum, Thrak at my side, his ax gripped in his hands. He ignored the bleeding wounds covering his body. They did little to slow the big orc. My cut thigh throbbed, but Gewin's blessing girded my body. I would not fail.
I rushed right behind Thrak as I downed a vial of his cum. The magic swelled in me, ready to hold back a tide of imps and what other threats were out there. The bridge was long, two hundred feet, and the lava boiled on either side.
There was no railing. I hoped no one fell.
“Someone's breathing ahead,” Xera shouted behind me.
“Where?” Angela asked. “I only see the imps in the corner fucking.”
“Eww,” Sophia and Xandra said at the same time.
“Straight ahead. On the bridge. I”
A hand appeared out of thin air throwing a clay bomb. I gaped in shock. Then my magic surged out. I caught the pot with my wind a foot from hitting Thrak. It was alchemical, like the ones that Minx used.
“Doesn't work if I catch it,” I chortled.
The pot detonated. I jumped in shock as a yellow-gold cloud burst from it and washed over me. I groaned and coughed. I sent out the air to pull the cloud away and
“My elementals,” Xandra gasped behind me. “They just collapsed”
A surge of panic shot through me as the yellow fog cleared. After spending the last few days terrified of my magic to discover I couldn't use it sent a wave of panic through me. I clutched my torn robes and tried again.
The power was in me but wouldn't surge out of my body.
“My dagger's not glowing,” Sophia said.
“I think it's an antimagic bomb,” Minx hissed as a gnome appeared, throwing off a shimmering cloth, two more bombs in her hand.
She hurtled them.
“Pater's cock,” Angela groaned. The walkway was narrow. There was nowhere to dodge.
One bomb hit at Angela and Thrak's feet, expanding into white-brown gunk that wrapped about their legs and then surged into mine, weighing them down, sticking us to the ground. The second bomb landed behind me, the foam grasping Sophia, Chaun, Xera, and Xandra, immobilizing them.
“Gewin's mighty cock,” snarled Thrak.
Minx landed on my back. I gasped as her hands seized my robes. Her small body scrambled onto my shoulders. I swayed, struggling to hold my balance, my feet locked in place. “What?”
“Sorry, Faoril,” the halfling rogue said as she gained my shoulders. She planted a boot on my head and jumped.
“Fire,” the gnome shouted as she pulled out another pair of bombs.
I hurtled from Faoril and landed on Thrak's broad shoulders. The orc bellowed something. I didn't have time to care what he complained about. I ducked another bomb and it burst behind me. I drew both my daggers and leaped off Thrak's shoulders, my heart beating with excitement.
“I like your style,” I grinned as I landed on the walkway ahead of the sticky gunk. She had used an acacia bomb. “How did you make the antimagic bomb explode?”
“Timed fuse,” the gnome answered, a sharp dagger hissing as she drew it.
“Nice. I need to find an alchemist that knows how to rig delayed fuses.”
I faced the gnome. She was my height, swathed in leathers, a bandoleer with more bombs draped over her chest. She peered through goggles with emerald lenses. I wondered what they did? “I like your goggles. I think I'll keep them.”
“You're the thief that broke into the Great Vault?” she asked as our knives crashed together, sparks flying.
“I am. Name's Minx.”
“Fredagest. There is a quite the bounty on your head.”
“I hope so. It took a great deal of skill breaking into the Vault. I would hate for my work to not be appreciated.”
We traded blows, daggers clashing over and over as we danced around each other. My heart beat with excitement as I lunged and stabbed and parried. She was good, but she only had one dagger. I could attack with one and parry with the other, driving her back.
“Why doesn't she shoot?” Fredagest muttered.
“Have a partner?”
“And she's not upholding her end of the bargain. I suspect she wants the bounty all to herself.”
Through a gap of rising sulfur, I caught a glimpse of red hair and pointed ears peeking out from an alcove in the basalt wall above the tunnel. It was my partner, Adel. Smart of her to tag along with a bounty hunter to make sure Fredagest didn't interfere much.
“Such a shame. You need to find a more trustworthy crew.”
Our daggers clashed again. I lunged and slashed, throwing her back farther. The gnome did a nimble cartwheel back, her foot flashing at my face in the process. My bare feet slid on the bridge as I tried to back peddle.
“Damn,” I muttered as I stumbled back. “You're acrobatic.”
“Yes, many scholars ignore their bodies, perfecting only their minds,” she answered as she came up in a crouch.
And threw a bomb at me.
I rolled my eyes and side-stepped it to the right and
She didn't throw one bomb but two, knowing I would have to dodge right to avoid the first. The second hurtled right at me. I shifted my weight as I flicked my left wrist, throwing my knife. The blade flashed orange and crimson then hit the bomb.
It detonated in a mass of foam before me.
“Not bad,” I said off-hand.
“Good throw,” she answered and jumped onto the foam, but her feet did not sink into it. Her boots raced across it.
“I want your boots, too,” I said, growing greedy. “You are full of tricks.”
“Thanks,” she grinned and pulled another bomb.
She threw it.
I leaped back, the bomb aimed at my feet. I should be able to escape the foam. I threw a quick look over my shoulder in midair. I had room to maneuver before I reached the rest of the party. Thrak heaved at the foam, his muscles straining as he tried to rip himself free.
The bomb hit, but it wasn't foam that burst from the shards of pottery. A cloud of red smoke exploded and engulfed me. I breathed it in and
Lust hit me.
My pussy went wet. My nipples ached. I landed and groaned, my head swimming. I was so hot. I had to be fucked. I dropped my knife. It clattered on the walkway as my hands shot down to the laces of my britches. I pulled, undoing them, and shoved my britches down.
“Someone fuck me,” I moaned.
Fredagest landed in the smoke. A part of my mind asked, why isn't she overcome with damiana-induced lust?
The rest of me didn't care. She was a gnome. A hermaphrodite. I loved hermaphrodites. “Fuck me. Let me suck your cock and then feel it shoot cum into me.”
Fredagest laughed. “It's a tempting offer.” She seized my metallic-red hair as I furiously masturbated, reaming four fingers right into my cunt, stretching it out while my thumbs rubbed at my clit. “But you're so much more valuable to me dead.”
The tip of her knife stabbed at my throat.
Thrak roared. Fredagest flinched. A shadow loomed over me. A hand shot down and snagged the gnome's wrist. There was a snapping crack of bone breaking. The knife fell to the ground before it reached my throat.
“Yes, yes, yes,” I moaned, not caring. My fingers felt amazing in my cunt.
“Shoot, Adeliatholaria!” screamed Fredagest.
Then Thrak snapped her neck.
I kicked away the crumbling foam from my legs. When Thrak ripped free, he destroyed enough to allow me to hack at the substance and free myself. I pulled my boots free and marched down the walkway, staring at the dead gnome Thrak had set gently on the bridge.
“Yes, yes, yes,” Minx moaned, masturbating furiously at my feet. She had four fingers stretching her little pussy wide open. “Come fuck me, Xera. I'll make your cock sprout and you can pound my cunt.”
“What's wrong with you?” I asked.
“Damiana,” gasped the halfling. “It'll wear offin a while”
I could smell the lingering, spicy aroma. My nipples tingled and my pussy itched. I ignored it and stepped over the halfling to Thrak. He pulled open the dead gnome's pouches. They were filled with all manner of alchemical devices along with a piece of folded parchment. Thrak handed it to me as he kept rummaging through her belongings.
I unfurled it and paled as I read:
The bearer of this letter is a duly authorized representative of the court of Doge Aurelius, ruler of the Free City of Raratha. The bearer is engaged in the pursuit of most honorable justice by bringing the following miscreants, dead or alive, back to Raratha to face justice. I implore all who read this missive to give what aid and succor you can afford and know that you have earned friendship with the noble Doge.
The following persons have committed theft, assault on the person of the Doge, and inflicted grievous harm upon his servants: Knight-Errant Angela ev'Xarin, a redheaded warrior, tall in stature, fair of skin, and blue of eyes, armed and armored in the typical fashion of a Knight of Deute; Acolyte Sophia ev'Tith, a youthful priestess of Saphique, brown of hair, green of eyes, and merry of expression; Journeyman Mage Faoril Lesibourne, a woman short in stature, brown of hair, and serious of eyes; Chaun, a changeling bard trained by the College of Az, carrying a lyre of unsurpassed craftsmanship inlaid with gold filigree; an unnamed elf, tall in stature and green of hair; and an unnamed halfling, metallic-red of hair and nimble in stature.
A reward of 5000 gold dupondius for each returned alive or dead, with an additional bounty of 10,000 dupondius for the return of the Doge's stolen property, the broken pommel stone of the High King's sword, made of gold surmounted with a ruby.
May the Goddess Iustia bless the bearer and bring justice upon these foul miscreants.
“5000 gold dupondius,” I gasped, my eyes widened. “She's a bounty hunter.”
Thrak glanced at the parchment, his face darkening. “And she won't be the last.”
King Edward IV – Shesax, The Kingdom of Secare
I watched my son, Prince Henry, sleep in his cradle, my wife at my side. The future king of Secare. But only if Angela died. My stomach twisted. I hadn't heard from Lady Delilah in two months. Was Angela alive or dead? Had the changeling killed her like Lady Delilah promised?
A loud rap echoed on the door. “Enter,” I called without looking up from my infant son.
The door to the royal nursery opened and John, my chamberlain, walked in. The old man walked back bowed, his robes draped off his frail frame. Despite that, he moved with quick steps and reached my side swiftly.
“Your Majesty, an emissary on a pegasus has arrived from the Doge of Raratha with a message for your eyes.”
“Raratha?” I frowned. “Is this some trade dispute?”
“I know not, your majesty.” John pulled the letter, sealed with gold wax and bearing the olive tree of Raratha.
I took the letter. My wife gave me a curious look. She was a blonde, pale beauty, a Zeutchian princess. Her large breasts rose in her low-cut bodice as she peered at the letter. I broke the wax seal and unfolded the missive.
Anger surged through me. Angela was alive.
“Robbed and assaulted the Doge of Raratha,” my wife purred, reading over my shoulder. “This is wonderful news.”
“How?” I demanded. “The changeling is wanted along with her. Lady Delilah's assassin has had two months two killer her and failed.”
“But don't you see? She's committed high crimes. When Lord-Commander William learns of this, he will have to ataint her, strip her from the Knights Deute, and all three orders of knights will be duty-bound to bring her to Raratha in chains for justice to be served.
“She will be hunted by everyone.”
A grin spread across my lips. “You are right as always, my Queen.”
The END of Book 6