A Price Paid Ch. 05

"As I understand things, the vast majority of his holdings are in Erette and Kressin, yes?"

Neral nodded, "But I doubt the newly-annointed King Kudan will be disposed to tear such a man and his holdings out of his kingdom just because Queen Evaline demands it."

Bryana laughed softly. "When the queen gives you the word and you pass that word to me, he will be burned out of Kressin just as surely as Erette. Nowhere he knows will be safe."

"You are certain?" He'd had a hand in leading Bryana to cross Neral's path those many years ago now and Bryana had seduced him with her body and her power to keep them on the path of their revenge, and here he was as a stone on that path again. The universe turned back on itself in strange ways sometimes.

"Did you think I just took what we needed from him and left him as a little bird to chirp in my ear should something interesting happen?" She was explaining rather than justifying her actions. "He was a threat to you, so I took him whole so that he would never be a threat to you again. He is mine because he has no choice and even now thrills in it. I am yours because I am, and it will never be another way." There was a triumphant undercurrent to be heard. "So he is yours as well."

"That is what I thought actually," she said sheepishly.

"Because you have always been honorable, Neral. You would have what you needed from him and then left him be. Because, on some level, whether it be the infighting of court or violence on the battlefield, you believe a fight will follow the rules that have been in place forever and you have all agreed to, so it offends and appalls you when someone strays from that. Few of the battles I've fought in my life were ever fair as you understand it, so I tend to fight much differently."

Neral couldn't argue about the benefits of that approach just now, thankful that, when the time came, the fleeing rat would have a hard time finding a familiar hole in which to hide. They now approached the gate that the White Guard was already opening ahead of them. "Love me anyway, despite my stodgy nobility?"

"I do," Bryana answered wryly. "No one is perfect."

* * *

The wind died and the night was calm, though clouds still blanketed the sky so that the only light came from the city lamps. Both these facts worked to the benefit of she who moved from rooftop to rooftop with the balance of a dancer and with leaps that bordered on flight. The moonless night and the glare from the city lights anyone would have to fight when they looked up conspired to make her invisible. Those combined with the black, form-fitting cloth she wore to let her be swallowed by the darkness.

And Imir Ageko thrilled in it as she had always done. A spy, assassin, courier, or almost anything else that someone needed her to be when there was something to be done that required, strength, skill, and a disregard for the law or morality. She had started as a courier when her age first broke double digits and, not long after that, she'd caught the eye of a longtime assassin who had used her to run messages between nameless contacts. He saw in her great potential. She was fit, fast, and strong already and, in her eyes, he saw the drive to be more. There he also saw no shortage of the coldness he saw in his own. Knowing that there were far fewer days ahead than behind because, as it did with all people, time reminded him by taking speed, stamina, and wit just a sliver at a time, he saw in her someone he could live on within, if in just a small way. She took what he offered because he offered power and asked for nothing in return beyond commitment to learning how to wield it.

She had exceeded his expectation. Technique was easy to teach. He was brutal but fair, and anyone could learn how to balance if they fell a thousand times first or how to fight once they'd decided they'd spilled too much of their own blood, but what was a rare gift was the ability to turn off the voice that told most people that killing was a thing never to be done unless it was your life or the lives of your loved ones in the balance. He'd never had that voice to start with, but she had the unique and amusing ability to talk that voice into all manner of things.

The target was fat and ate like a pig. They fucked anything that moved, spitting upon their vows to their family and the Goddess to do it. They were born to privilege and didn't deserve it. There was always something upon which she could unleash her hatred and make their deaths a service to the world. That hatred provided drive, but never clouded judgment so he simply made a game with himself wondering what she'd fixate upon with this target and that. He taught her all he knew and, as time victimized him in its many little ways, he began to send her in his stead and she never failed him.

The night she came to him in his sleep and he felt the knife at his throat he was ready for her and ready for what she'd come to do. How ever many days he had left beyond that night, he would never be able to live them as he would choose to. As the blade slid smoothly and he felt the odd sensations that came with having his throat exposed to air and blood rush forth, he smiled, wondering what she'd chosen to hate about him personally that allowed her to slide the blade, knowing that simply being aware of his history was enough.

Ageko had lived her life as she chose until she took a contract to assassinate Queen Evaline. She would have succeeded if not for one simple move the woman shouldn't have known because none of her kind ever did that bought her enough precious moments for help to arrive. Ageko had fled, but she could not escape Mistress Bryana's reach. Mistress took her mind and soul and changed her body in the ways she wanted so that Ageko could best serve Her. She was stronger and faster now than she was before or ever could be without Her magic. Mistress had given her gifts and kindness. Mistress had given her more than she deserved.

Knowing that she was owned and that every move she made was in Her service made her even more graceful and powerful because that truth gave her an inhuman focus. To have a misstep or to lose to a foe that She set her loose upon was to fail Her and Ageko wouldn't allow it. Her path in life was now perfectly clear. She could see it as clearly as she could see the path to the manor of Etan Strannix. She was almost upon it now. Her foot landed perfectly upon the apex of the gable roof, and she sped up her pace, needing the speed as she planned. Her eyes and her mind decided her next movements even as her body executed her will in the moment with such fluidity that there was no space between one and the other.

The angle was slightly odd and the distance was vast enough that no normal person could jump it to begin with without meeting death, much less gauge their speed, strength, and arc to aim her body where she wanted it to be.

Her footfalls were rapid fire now. She took a deep breath and held it as she ran those final steps, Ageko neared the edge and exhaled as she leaped into the night, but there wasn't even the first thought that she would be leaping to her death. Mistress needed and she would not fail. She felt the cold night air against her skin and she thrilled at the weightlessness and the momentary perception of flight. As gravity made its presence known and she felt it begin to pull her to the ground, her left arm reached out and felt the ledge and her fingers touched the window ledge, gripping tightly.

Her joints took the force required to keep gravity at bay and Ageko felt no pain, her changed body able to withstand far more than that. Her other hand found the ledge and she began to lift herself, testing the window ledge. Once she believed it would hold she put much more force into the lift, sending her into the air once more so that she could grasp the sculpted stone that formed the arch above the window. Looking inside, she could see through the darkness to find it was an unoccupied bedroom.

Feeling it was safe to proceed, she held on to the arch while bracing both feet against the corners of the windowsill, her right hand reached into the pouch at her belt and retrieved a well-used sliver of metal. The most reliable tools were the simplest and this piece of metal she'd carried for so long it felt like a natural extension of herself had yet to fail her. It slid neatly upward, releasing the lock with the faintest click. Ageko replaced the tool and it was a simple matter to balance once again, open the door, and step inside. Her soft boots pressed against a plush rug and the room smelled of the not unpleasant mix of oils and solvents used for cleaning.

It was nothing for one like her to gain entry into such a place unseen. Even untouched by Mistress it would not have been difficult to gain entrance without a single pair of eyes noting her presence. It would have just taken a bit longer and would have been done with a bit less flourish. Ageko could have searched the home for what Mistress sought tonight, found what was needed or where it likely was and returned for it, but She didn't want to risk what she sought being moved or destroyed if it hadn't been already. She had laid out what she was to do and gave her the means to do it. It was quiet and her senses warned her of nothing, so she allowed herself a brief moment to feel Mistress's power. It was within her and with her as she carried with her the tools to do what needed to be done. Why seek out what was needed when it was easier to get someone in the home to do it if it could be done and to bring a voice to make it all real for court?

She knelt in the dark, not because she needed to, but because she chose to. It made her feel good to submit, even when no one was there to see it. The next steps were simpler than even getting into the home. She reached into the pouch again and wrapped her hand around the chain Mistress had placed in her care Herself. Bringing it into the open she held it before her, her arm rigid now because Mistress had told her it would have to float free work as intended and it might take be some time before someone answered its call. She did not know what it would do or how and she didn't ask because it didn't matter.

Her words would activate it, Mistress told her. "I give you control of this until the job is done. Activate it and wait for someone to come to you. If they are not who you need, take everyone in that house with it until you get what I seek or learn where it can be found. Take them all anyway, as I will have need for them later." Ageko could have roamed the halls and gone to work but that opened the possibility that in that time someone could realize something was wrong and escape or create some other problem that might keep her from finding what Mistress sought.

It was time. She wanted as much of the night as could be had. She could feel the stone's power. It felt like the chains that bound her. Her heart began to race at the thought of saying the words that would activate it. Mistress had kissed her forehead, making her live in a way that nothing else matched. The words were a reward for her service and devotion, she said, before telling her to enjoy her time as she waited, too.

"I am powerless."

The words threatened to take her breath from her. Her nipples pressed against the cloth that covered them.

"I submit."

Her cunt began to drool like a starving animal and it was. It starved for Mistress and her control. It starved for more even though Her control was already absolute.

"I obey."

The words rolled off her tongue like syrup and when the round gem lit from its center outward with the flash that washed over her, she came, her body shivering almost imperceptibly, only the sudden sway of the gem giving away her submission to the power Mistress commanded. The waves and roils within the gem created light and shadow that moved around the room as living art..

She breathed deeply and watched it move. She breathed as the soft hum from the gem lulled her and sang to her. Mistress was calling out to and singing to others. They would come and then they would know Her power, too.

Mistress is so kind. She took who she needed with beauty and pleasure. Ageko could have wept, but that would have marred her view into the limitless center of the gem.

She floated with the currents within the gem as she waited for someone to join her in admiring its beauty and power.

* * *

Nights were lovely things. She liked doing as much of her work as possible at night. She could work at her own pace, cleaning the empty rooms, replacing unused linens in unused rooms and making sure that nothing was out of place in rooms that few entered to begin with. She didn't understand why people lived in a larger house than they needed, but it at least provided her with a job.

She also preferred working at night because the atmosphere was calmer. Strannix was a walking cloud of tension, barely harnessed rage, and volatility. A dresser that wasn't dusted could illicit a stern reminder to the employee nearest to them or firing them on the spot whether they had anything to do with the transgression or not. And there was always a cold calmness to the man, as though the only thing that kept him from doing or saying the things he truly wanted to do was a sense of decorum that he couldn't abandon. The only thing that made him tolerable was that, for as long as one had a job in this house, he paid well.

His wife was a wonderful woman though. She was kind and easy to please. Dina Strannix would talk to them like they were people and not parts of the machine that was the house. She remembered names and birthdays and gave small gifts to honor them. She even helped clean now and then simply because she got bored shopping, reading, or wiling away the time with the other merchant's wives. But even she couldn't seem to stomach him anymore, leaving one night after a seemingly normal dinner and never returning. None of the staff believed the story their employer gave about a spiritual retreat. They all believed that she had simply abandoned him, and some of them went so far as to whisper that perhaps he'd gotten her out of the house...one way or another, though no one dared elaborate, or needed to.

Strannix himself left after the dreadful riots, and the staff decided he was probably personally tending to his losses at the docks and would be back eventually. In the meantime, it was a well-paying, easy job that she could almost do without thinking about, as she did now, carrying a bundle of clean, pressed sheets destined for a bedroom closet when she was taken from her thoughts and rote by tiny insects buzzing in her ear, a tickle almost within the canal as though they were considering landing within it, or were simply on a quest to be as annoying as possible.

The maid shook her head to warn them off and the buzzing little things couldn't have cared less. She hooked the bundle under one arm in an attempt to bat whatever it was away, but the sound was still undeterred. Then, as the sound had distracted her from her own thoughts, something at the end of the long, narrow hall took her attention away from the annoyance in her ears.

There was a light coming from beneath the door of the guest rooms at the end of the hall. As far as she knew she was the only one puttering about at this time of night, but, as she looked on, that someone else was awake and in the room wasn't the only oddity. Certainly, there was light, but it wasn't a lamp or a candle, it was too red and it flickered too quickly. It defied explanation, the closest she could come up with were the sparkling patterns that healers created at parties and shows. She moved a small decorative vase aside to make room before placing the sheets neatly next to it on the half table in the middle of the hall.

She moved slowly, almost afraid that if she moved too quickly, whatever was making that peculiar light would disappear and she'd never find out what it was or who or what was responsible for it. It really was a red she'd never seen before, something like that found in the setting sun, but brighter and more ethereal. Even from here it looked almost alive. The dark patterns weaving through it that made it seem to flicker danced along the floor and against the opposite wall. They moved, came together, then parted, swirling to and fro. She stared into the movement. Just when she thought she could time the beats and anticipate the swirls with the dark and light the pattern changed, daring her to refocus and try harder to see the patterns within. She thought that if she could anticipate them it would be like she was part of them.

The nearer she got to them, even if it was by just a tiny step because she was afraid to scare them away, the more beautiful and intricate they seemed to her. The more she looked at them, the more inviting that they were. Only by getting closer to them and becoming part of the dance could she be part of them. And, the more she looked, the more that being part of the pattern became part of who she was.

She shivered, as though hot breath sighed against her ear. There was no buzzing anymore. It was never just a sound at her ear, she realized as she took yet another step toward the door. It was a voice calling to her, beckoning and tempting with tones that curled her toes and shimmied up her spine. Another step closer and they were in time with the patterns as well in their own way; not mirrors, but companion pieces, as though an orchestra played in time with dancers on the stage that was the floor and the wall before her.

Another step and they were whispers of sex like the ones lovers had hissed in her ear. They weren't even words as much as tones that played with her feelings Some were loving, promising to care for her forever. Some were deeper, more soulful, and more openly raw, promising to fuck her until she was spent and then fuck her more because her place was to submit to their needs, and she would revel in every moment of her use.

Another step and she realized there was nothing before her eyes but sparks of that deep, luminous, glorious red. She didn't panic because she could feel it on her body now. Looking down she saw those patterns on her leg between her dress and her shoes. It felt like the voices in her head promised it would. Loving and submissive, it would take nothing she wasn't prepared to give. Yet it was raw and dominant, demanding that she give everything. They could touch her. They wanted to touch her. They begged to touch her. They demanded it. She slipped the shoes from her high-arched feet and her breath caught. The patterns were now free to dance upon her exposed skin. She put her hand to the knob slowly, frightened that the slightest sound could make them flee. There was a click and she pushed the door open slowly.

To find a star from the sky had fallen before her.

The patterns and voices that were not quite voices came from its core. It was blindingly beautiful. It was everything blissful and decadent in the universe in a single point of light. It was like the Goddess before her. The light was caressing her now and every bit of exposed skin. The first coherent thought that she remembered having in who knew how long made her push the door closed without looking away from the gem that held everything perfect. The thought of her sharing that with anyone else made her jealous. She needed it to be hers. The door closed and she now felt perfectly secure. It was just her and the light now. She could feel it all over her, she realized how simple a thing it would be to feel it everywhere. As she undid the buttons of her dress she felt the softness of the light and roughness of the shadow take her exposed skin and dance upon it, the light like fingers, and tongues, that shadow like hands grabbing at her body as if to take her.