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Chapter Twenty-One
Following supper, Talen takes turn standing guard while I go to feed my prisoner, Dr. Talisac. I find him lashed to a tree, and I nod to the one standing watch over him that I'll be responsible for him now. The doctor stares up at me with an unsettling gaze, yet says nothing. His filthy white lab coat drapes about his thin body making him look all the more wretched and stained and even his face looks longer than it seemed when I first saw him.
"Are you hungry?" I ask, holding a plate of food out for him.
"Of course I'm hungry," he snaps. I tighten my jaw and set about to loosen the knots binding his hands. He rubs his wrists a moment, and then begins to snatch at the food. "I treated you with more respect when I had you on my table."
"You had me naked and at your mercy. But I know you could've done much more to me than you did. Thank you for that."
He swallows a chunk of bread smothered in gravy and a few drops fall drip from his pale smooth chin. The way he smacks his overly large lips together as he eats is a bit revolting and reminds me of a pig feeding at a trough.
"Will you keep your word, young thing?" he asks, making a sudden move to grab my arm.
I pull free of his fingers. "I always keep my word, but I've something to ask you."
Talisac stops chewing a moment, one eye fixed on me. I can't help but notice how the whites have a bit of a jaundiced taint to them as he stares at me beyond the edge of his huge sweaty nose. Beneath the hem of his coat, his bloated belly makes a noise.
"Yes?" he queries.
"How do you know what I'm going to ask?"
"You want to know if I put something inside you. The answer is yes. It was an egg from a brain larva. By now it's hatched and probably made its way up your spinal column to a collection of nerves that flows downward from a thing I call a cortical stem. It's harmless and serves only one purpose: to allow the grimlocks or anything else with psionic power greater access to your mind. That's why you've got so many blank areas in your memory. They used you as their meat puppet."
"W-was I forced to rape anyone?" I ask.
He laughs. "That frightens you, doesn't it? I don't know. Master Kierak didn't share his plans for you with me. But of the many times I saw you, the only one you fucked was your boyfriend. And you fucked him a lot more than you thought you did. You were quite an entertainer, and show time occurred as often as five times a day. They had so much control over your body they could release adrenaline into your blood to keep you awake when working the mines. That's how powerful the mind lords are, my boy. They enslaved you for almost a year, and you had no idea that much time had passed." Talisac chews on a chunk of meat while I consider all that he's said.
"Can the worm be extracted?"
"You mean, can I take it out?" Talisac grins evilly. "Yes. But the cure is both bliss and agony. It requires raising your core body temperature for a while to make your body uncomfortable for its habitat. Your blood pressure must be dangerously high, your heart must be strained, and your nerves overloaded with signals of both pain and pleasure to create havoc in the symbiote that lives inside of you. If the conditions are right, we can get it to descend into your testicles where the body is cooler. Once that happens, I can extract it when you cum, but only with the proper tools. You're lucky that I have most of them in the black bag I carry."
"Before I let you go, then, I'll want you to extract it...when it's just Talen, Angelaria, and I."
"You say this now," Talisac says, "but when you see what's involved, you'll change your mind. You don't have the courage for it and neither does your boyfriend."
I swallow nervously and take the empty plate from him. Then I give him a long drink from the water skin lying near his feet and then retie his hands. When done, I return to Talen so that I can stand watch with him. I say nothing of my conversation with Talisac. I don't want him to know the horrible secret yet, and maybe there's a part of me that wants to live in denial just a while longer.
Sometime about midnight the elf, Correldon, joins us.
Elves don't need sleep because they can get the rest they need through a meditative trance. He tells us that he hails from an entire island kingdom, the Symardiearre, and that they've withdrawn from the world of men by going into the vast oceans off the eastern coast of Balsora.
"My people sought a land not overrun by humans," he says, "although if the humans had looked like you and your companion there, we might not have been so hasty."
"What's Balsora?" I ask.
"Balsora's the apotheosis of desert. It has great dunes of golden sand that drift lazily under an unmerciful sky. The three suns of Wynwrayth beat down upon the desert like a hammer striking an anvil, seeking to bake all living things who dare to tread beneath their light. But just as there's death in the desert, there's also beauty. You humans are a remarkably resilient folk. Exotic tribes known as the Daar live in camps that occupy the outskirts of the vast wasteland. They travel the nomadic plains to the north where herds of animals feed upon the grasses; when they move, thunder is heard from out of a clear sky. And of course there are the great pyramids of Djoser, last pharoah of the lands of Balsora. They rise above the sandy floor like small mountains."
"Pyramids?"
"Tombs of kings who ruled people whose skin is as black as yours is white. When he died, a curse took the waters of the sacred river that gave life to the land. It's a magical place now. There's a shrine kept at the base of the great pyramid. Priests of death go about in plaited kalisiris and carry palms to be burnt in the open plaza. The sacred smoke is said to appease the great pharoah's ghost. It's done right before the rainy season, which lasts one month out of the year and causes the desert to bloom in colors few men can imagine."
"Have you ever heard of the Isle of the Unslaking Thirst?" I ask him.
Correldon furrows his brow. "On my island kingdom, there are a few references to the isle you mention. It's said to be an inhospitable place, overgrown with thick jungle that breeds evil creatures. It's named thus because it lies in a natural Sargasso, a place in the sea so choked with seaweed that the ocean currents are slowed to a crawl. The windless shallows team with carnivorous fish and thick brine flies. No one goes there that has any sense; a graveyard of ships stands as a warning to all that the water ahead is sour. Do you know why it's called the Isle of the Unslaking Thirst?"
"No."
"Because many sailors perished trying to find it. Their ships got stuck amidst the choking seaweed and the heavy air that never moves. Imagine being surrounded by so much water but not a drop of it could ever quench your thirst." He pauses a moment to measure my reaction. "You ask if I've ever heard of this island. Not only have I heard of it, but I know for certain where it lies. From far out on the sea you can see glowing lights above it. They're lightning bolts from storms raining down cruel blasts upon a jungle no man has ever tread. There's a reason for that: any man that seeks the isle is insane. Anyone that follows is a fool."
I set my jaw sternly. Talen sits whittling at a stick of wood and says nothing. "I've to go there," I say. "So I guess I'm insane."
Talen puts the stick aside and fetches a throw blanket. Then he drapes it over my shoulders and hugs me from behind. "I guess I'm a fool then," he whispers, "because I'd follow you off a cliff if need be."
I kiss Talen's fingers and smile. "I-I'm searching for something, and I think that I'm going to find my answers on that island. I don't suppose you'd be willing to take me there? Or at least point out the way?"
The elven ranger scratches his chin with his bow. "Possibly. When we get to the surface, I'll part ways with Riaken. Although his quest against the grimlocks is a noble one and in part ties with mine in my charge to search out and destroy the kuanni, I must soon return to Symardiearre. I've been too far afield and have not reported to my queen. And there may be kuanni that cross your path. So we shall see, Atlantean prince, when we once again tread upon the roads of men. Until then, I'll withhold my answer."
"Thank you," I whisper.
Then, I turn my eyes to the shadows all around me and fall silent to contemplate my many thoughts.
Two days later, the pregnant girl is ready to move. When the news reaches my ears, I leave my post at the edge of camp and go to her tent. Inside are Riaken and Angelara; Talen comes in behind me. She looks like a frightened little girl and my heart immediately goes out to her. When she sees me, she sits up. She opens her mouth to say something and her voice emerges without much strength. "Who are you?" she asks looking around at all of us. However, I know the question is intended for me.
Angelaria settles in beside her and takes her by the hand.
"You're safe," she says. "You're safe with us. My name's Angelaria. This man here is Riaken, and you might remember Hunter," she says at last. "He saved you from a nasty fall."
The girl looks at each one of us and pauses when she gets to my face. "I'm Lilajev," she says. "Thank you so much for helping me."
"Do you remember much from your time with the grimlocks?" Riaken asks.
Lilajev looks at him and then clutches her belly. "Why don't you ask what you want to ask? Is the child human? It's what you want to know, right?"
Riaken looks at the others and then clears his throat. "Yes. Do you know?"
She nods. "The father was human. That's all I know, but it wasn't anyone in this tent."
I don't know why, but when she says this, there's a small part of me that withers just a bit. I think I would have liked knowing that I'd fathered a child, even if it meant in this terrible way. I could have forgiven myself because I would have been dominated and unable to control my actions. And maybe Lilajev could have grown to be a good mother. I would have devoted myself to her as much as possible, but now all of these imagined possibilities lead only to dead ends.
"Good," Riaken says. "I was prepared to terminate it, but that may not be necessary now."
"Why?" Angelaria asks.
"We can't risk a half-human, half grimlock child. A kuanni prophecy says that a baby resulting from this unholy union will become a dark god and bring blood to the world of men. Normally, such a pregnancy is impossible, as grimlock males are sterile. But we believe there are flesh crafters, like your Talisac, who've been working on this problem and may be close to a solution."
"How can you terminate a pregnancy that's so late and not risk harm to the mother?" I ask.
Riaken stares into my eyes. "That's just it. We can't."
I swallow, understanding what he's told me. "I wouldn't have let you kill her."
"You couldn't have stopped me," Riaken says.
Lilajev looks at the both of us and in frustration, she says, "You men stand here arguing over my fate." She faces Riaken. "You're a monster if you think I would have let you hurt my child. I may look helpless, but I'm not I assure you." Then she nods at me. "But at the same time I'm not yours. I'm grateful you caught me when I fell, but I don't need or want your protection. Get out!"
"I-I didn't mean anything by it," I begin to say.
"No. You did. I've seen that kind of hunger in someone's eyes. Someone that wants a thing very badly, but you can't have mine. Not this child. It's not yours. And no matter what you think having a child would do for you, I'll promise you it'll never make up for the lives that we've led. You can't correct a lifetime of mistakes and bad choices by living for someone else. You have to live for yourself first. I see many things when I gaze into your eyes, but none of those things tell me that you love yourself. I suggest that you start there first."
I swallow, a bit stunned by the rebuke, and leave the tent.
Talen meets me at the edge of the darkness surrounding the camp and puts his arm around my shoulders. "Is what she said true? Do you really hate yourself?"
I gaze into the sea of his eyes and finally, I start to weep.
"It kind of makes sense," Talen says. "All that confidence you exude...it's fake isn't it?"
I nod. "She's the first person to really see through it like she did. I feel awful, but she's right. She's right about everything. I'm shallow and vain and the only reason for any of it is because there's nothing else propping me up. This entire time, I've lived for other people. I live for you...I even tell myself that every day. But I've never lived just for me. If I were alone in this world, I'd never make it. I'd be lost."
He comforts me. Although I feel ashamed because men aren't supposed to weep like this, it feels good to let some of it go. And he holds me until it's time for our watch.
The next day, Riaken waits for us to finish breakfast before he announces that we're to move out. Lilajev's condition is stable now and with the help of the others we scoop her up onto a stretcher which we take turns carrying between us. When I take my turn, I note that she doesn't seem to mind that I'm standing close to her. Nevertheless, I take the lead, so I don't have to look upon her face as we make our way along the narrow, uneven path through the darkness.
Without the aid of the grimlock master's ever-present mind in my own, I find that walking in the gloom is arduous. Talen and I have a keen balance, and we avoid small holes in the cavern floor which threaten to grab at one's ankles. But others aren't so perceptive.
I point them out when I can, but inevitably some fall victim to them. One twists his ankle so badly we take a break and rig another stretcher borrowing the canvas from the last of the tents we carry. Then four of us hoist him onto a second stretcher. He becomes my burden and he's quite a load, tipping the scales at four-hundred pounds. Each night, my arms feel like lead, sore from finger to shoulder. This is how we go, step by step, led by the green-eyed soldier through the endless dark.
As I walk I try to chat Correldon up.
I ask him about the trap that we encountered in the Valion keep many months back.
"Hmm," he declares, rubbing his chin with the tip of his bow. He steps over a rough stone and ascends a trail with a sheer drop on its right side. I can hear small pebbles falling from the edge, and they take several seconds before their echo returns from the bottom. Touching the wall to my left reassuringly, I stare into the black. "I think the trap you encountered was once an actual corridor. Those iron doors you spoke of sound familiar. Valion keeps generally have a passage which rotates on a big stone wheel. During regular use, it's kept secured from a secret room which holds the winch and the machinery for them to be able to move it about. During a siege they keep it pliable to seal the way into the heart of their fortress and turn away invaders. Someone came along later, made a few modifications, and turned it into a human pitcher plant. That's rather clever."
"Pitcher plant?"
"It's a kind of carnivorous plant found on my island. Insects that fall into it are trapped and digested."
I nod, understanding. I look down at my shiny boots. They're barely visible by the light of lanterns and torches around us. However, I know that they once belonged to a thrall of great importance raised by the grimlocks. My former master mentioned that but he didn't elaborate. Whoever these had belonged to had been killed by the knights and his belongings taken into the keep. The grimlocks attacked them in response, but the items had never been recovered. Could they have missed them in their search of the Valion keep? I don't see how they could have, but it seems to be the most likely possibility.
Riaken calls a rest on the slope and some of us collapse with our backs to the stone wall. I hand out food to anyone that wants it and even manage to sneak a bit myself. I catch Talen examining a sword that Pink Hair has given him, and I feel somehow a little weaponless. I miss the weight of the katana and know that I'll not know a blade of its quality again for some time. I stride back down the path and relieve one of the men sitting next to Angelaria. She's idly chatting with one of them when she sees me step into the torchlight.
"Hello, Kian," she says.
I settle down, the bottom of my feet scraping on fine rock and sand that line the edge of the gorge. Some of it sifts into that cavernous darkness and I lament that I've not a lifetime to explore it.
"Good morning," I say. "Are you getting along all right?"
"Fine, I think," she says.
"How's Lilajev?" I ask.
Angelaria lifts a flask of water to her lips and takes a drink. "She's had time to clear her head," she declares, looking up at me. "But I don't want to talk about her. She's just a girl, Kian."
"I suppose, but girls are supposed to be treasured. That's at least how I see it."
"You do?" she asks. "Then treasure me. I'm a girl."
"Sometimes it doesn't seem like it because you're so strong," I say.
She smiles. "There's a wetness between my legs. Your fingers can test it to make sure I'm a girl. They'd welcome your touch."
I crouch next to her. She takes my hand and gently caresses it with the side of her face. We're both dirty, but she looks so attractive right now that I can think of nothing else.
"I want you to be the father of my child," she whispers. "Seeing how you stared at Lilajev made me realize what I want. I want that kind of look from you, hungry and filled with passion, hovering over me and pumping in and out. I want to be with you...to feel your meat between my legs and sliding inside my cunt. Oh bother...this-"
I cut her off by running my fingers through her hair. "I feel the same way," I say.
"You do?"
I nod yes.
"But what of Talen?"
"I love him too. Don't ask me to choose because I can't."
Angelaria squeezes my fingers reassuringly.
Unable to control myself, I slowly close my mouth upon hers. I don't know who enjoys it more, but I swear she makes an effort of tasting every part of me with her tongue. She forces my lips slightly open and puts a hand on my head and ruffles the inch or so of hair that I've got growing back there at the base of my skull.
When we're done, she says, "That was nice."
"I agree," I breathe. I kiss her again, this time a little slower. The sound of footsteps coming down the path and the rattle of small pebbles makes me pause.
"It's nice to see that the two are making up for lost time," Talen says. "We're going to rest for a few hours. Everyone's exhausted it seems."
Angelaria rolls her eyes and then sits back on her palms.
"Am I interrupting something?"
"Yes," she says.
"No," I answer. "Nothing at all."
Talen settles in on my left and offers her a piece of warm bread. "That gnome is actually a pretty good cook...not as good as you though...but good."
"Do you still have the ring?" I ask him. I know why I ask: I'm imagining how she'd look with one on, waiting for me at the end of an aisle.
"I do," he says, rather smugly.
"Might I have it back?" Angelaria says. "It's my ring after all."
"I suppose," he declares. Then he hands the smooth gold band to her. She slips it on her finger and admires it by the light. I have to admit, it's nice seeing her with a ring on. I just wish that I'd the courage to give her the one that she deserves. I suddenly realize that having two people that both want you as their husband makes for a very complicated life.
Chapter 22 next week!