Chapter 18: Alcatraz

Taking the holoball from the end table by the bed, he left. He walked slowly down the stairs, letting his body go into a controlled fall at each step. He walked into the old kitchen where a wide-eyed man now sat, hair wild and unkempt and skin slack, chewing on the black leather gloves that covered his hands, nibbling on the sides of the fingers, grunting. His clothes made it clear he was an academic of some note, but nothing in his demeanor looked respectable at this moment. He looked like some poor creature from the depths of the Immortal's banished lands devouring tiktiks for sustenance. He'd never seen anyone in the soul devouring stage but he knew it instantly from the man chewing on his fingers to keep the circulation going. Reduced blood flow to the extremities was a side effect of withdrawal. One of the telltale signs of an apoth was a partially or wholly amputated digit or scarring on the fingers.

The man didn't even notice Rivuk until he passed by. He grabbed the hem of Rivuk's cloak. "Please, can you spare a few hecares? Just to get me by."

Rivuk simply tore his cloak from the man's grasp and walked away. Past Cyril and the dead man and through the door. Once the deal was done, he couldn't wait to burn this place to the ground.

He felt filthy as he made his way through the blighted North Side. He needed to go someplace to clear his mind of all he'd just witnessed. He pressed his wristband. "Yasolina?" he said. "Is there any chance you could meet now? Yes, your place is fine." He spread his wings and flew off, glad to leave that hell behind.

Nothing could provide a greater contrast to the invocation den than Yasolina's penthouse. As he approached, he saw the golden glint of the sun off the large, azure outdoor swimming bath. White columns with arches in between surrounded the bath, not holding up anything, merely for the aesthetic. The large, colorfully-tinted plates of glass that formed the famed reporter's house's exterior walls seemed gemlike from this distance. He spotted Yasolina lounging by the side of the bath, lazily drawing her fingers about with the tips of her wings resting in the cool water while her pretty young wife swam around in a little black top and thick waisted skirt with a slit up to her hip that showed everything beneath when it bubbled up.

He was far too wound up from earlier.

As he approached, he let his shadow fall over the pool. Yasolina moved her tinted spectacles up to see. She turned, just as he was coming in for a landing. "Oh, darling," she said to her wife. "Would you mind giving the prince and I a little privacy?"

Her wife noticed Rivuk and quickly climbed out of the bath. He couldn't help but notice how her wet clothes clung to her. She gave Yasolina a quick kiss on the lips and scampered off as Yasolina watched her go.

"Beautiful, isn't she?" Yasolina said.

"Exquisite," Rivuk agreed, his eyes still on her bottom as she opened the sliding panel into the house.

Yasolina shook her wings and cold water droplets showered Rivuk. She laughed. "My apologies, your grace. But you looked a little over-heated."

Rivuk wiped off his uniform. "The cold water is appreciated. Kissing?"

"It's the new trend," she said, balancing her chin on her folded arms. She clearly had no intention of standing or bowing.

It was why he preferred her to the other cloying, sycophantic journalists of the city. She knew he could kill her with a thought, knew he could make her drown herself in her own bath for her disrespect, but she knew he wouldn't. Oh, she would show the proper respect when it was required, but it was not required now.

"It really is your fault, you know," she said with a wink. "There are many decrying the corrupting influence of the third prince and his human whore on the youth. They never do miss a chance at alliteration, no matter how insulting it might be."

"I doubt we've had that much influence," Rivuk said.

"You'd be surprised," she said, arching her thin brows as she reached over for the colorful glass that sat on the tile beside her and took a drink. "You're the talk of the town."

"I imagine so, today."

"Oh of course today, and every day before that. It's the love story of the decade. It's made Prince Elihim's wedding look positively droll, and you remember what a story that was."

"Not the love story of the decade anymore," he said bitterly.

"No, now that you've stood in the face of betrayal and chosen to spare your wife, or, at least we assume that's what happened since she wasn't executed for the crimes..."

Rivuk nodded in confirmation.

"Now it's merely the love story of our lifetime! They say how much you must love her to let her live even after such a litany of crimes."

"Loved her, perhaps. And for that, yes, I chose to spare her, even though my love for her is over."

Yasolina eyed him as if she didn't fully believe him. "Despite her crimes against the kingdom?"

"That is why I've come to you. I don't think she is culpable for the crimes they've charged her with."

Yasolina had a glint in her eye as she pressed down on her audio recorder that automatically scrambled voices that were not her own. She asked, in her practiced interviewer tone, "As a close source within the palace, are you saying she didn't commit the crimes she was accused of?"

Rivuk knew well not to give his identity away. "No, she did commit the crimes. She betrayed her prince most cruelly. But there is reason to believe she was deceived into the acts by members of the court who were resentful of her."

"Can you tell us which members?" Yasolina probed.

"No. I am not at liberty to disclose their identities at present."

Yasolina raised her brows. She would know what that meant - members of the nobility, likely even a member of the royal family, was involved in some way. "Do you have any evidence of this?"

Rivuk pulled out the holoball and tossed it to her. "I trust none of this will be made public?"

Yasolina pressed the holoball. "Of course not," she said as she watched Lindsay walking around the room, looking confused and lost. "I'm guessing by showing me this, you want me to skew my reporting to the side of the princess."

"Just, be a friend to her," he said.

"As I always have been," Yasolina said, turning off her recorder. "And to you. And to your cause."

"And what cause would that be?" Rivuk asked.

She took off her tinted spectacles and folded them up, her eyes matching his. "Just because I have an evening show doesn't mean I've suddenly stopped being a journalist. I've seen too many dead bodies in this war, don't you remember how I broke into this industry?"

Of course. She'd won an award after going into the forest alone to report on the destruction of a Bonat encampment. The piece had been a glowing testament to the power of the Flying Forces. For that she was excused for her crime of entering the forest without consent of the royal family and made the official war reporter.

She took another sip of her drink. "I have my regrets."

"As do I."

"I wish I'd met someone like the princess ten lanc ago to tell me who they were. I might have done things differently."

"And been put to the sword for it," Rivuk reminded her.

"Better that than languishing about as my relevance slips away while I do another puff piece on who the hot new actress called up to her room at the Pleasure Arcade. I can help open doors for you, get you in contact with the right people," Yasolina said.

"In exchange for what?"

Yasolina sat up and nursed her drink. She looked up from the rim, her painted lips just resting on it as she spoke, "When the time comes to expose the rot, I get the story."

Rivuk was stunned. Yasolina wasn't a fool, she knew what she was saying. "You will be imprisoned for it, you might be killed," he warned.

"I'll die anyway, fading away like all reporters do. Dead before I even die." She finished off her drink. "At least I'd be remembered for the right reasons and not for introducing ten new hot decorating techniques."

Rivuk nodded. "You'll get the story."

"That's what I wanted to hear. Now that that's out of the way and you understand we are on the same side, how is our dear girl? Have you seen her?"

"Not yet, I might go by the prison today."

"You might?"

He shook his head. "I don't know what I'd even say to her. And I fear what she might say to me." He swayed slightly where he stood.

"Come, sit down, you look like you're about to collapse at my feet."

Rivuk stepped over the lounge chair and sat next to her, his wings outstretched to catch the warming rays of the sun. She was right, he was exhausted.

"When was the last time you slept?" Yasolina asked.

"Not since late last night," he answered.

"You need to rest," she said.

"It's not even been a full day."

"But you look like you've more than filled it. You'll be no good to anyone if you wear yourself down too much."

"I can't stop."

"Why not?" she asked. Always probing, always prying, and he... he didn't have the strength anymore to face it alone.

"Because, if I stop... Then she's not there. And I..." His voice caught. "I miss my wife." He couldn't really remember the last time he broke down and cried. "As long as I'm doing something I don't feel it." He hadn't cried since Deneta was rejected by her mother and he knew she was truly lost to them. But that had been in private, with only he and his daughter, where his apologies for his failures and his cowardice only fell on ears that couldn't comprehend them. And he'd had his daughter. His daughter who was now old enough to feel the loss of the only mother-figure she'd ever known. "How will I tell my child?" His brow fell onto Yasolina's shoulder with his tears.

"You should go see her," Yasolina said.

"So she can coldly try to justify her actions to me? Without hint of apology? With no care for the pain she's caused me?"

"Why do you think she would say that?" she asked, no longer in the tone of an interviewer, but that of a someone who actually cared.

"Because she did it for him. And he always comes ahead of me. Ahead of us."

"For him?"

"The Bona Serat Corsar," he spat out the name like a foul taste.

"I see," she said. She was silent for a time while he wept, waiting until he calmed to speak again. "What if she didn't?"

"Didn't what?" His head ached from exhaustion and tears.

"Didn't justify herself. I haven't known the princess as long as you, but she does truly seem to love you. I've interviewed many couples in my day and I think I've become a pretty good judge of people. At least give her the chance to apologize."

"I can't imagine ever going back if she doesn't," he said.

"But at least you'll know."

He stood and shook his head. The anger was returning, drowning out the sorrow. "I have nothing to say to her."

She shrugged. "It's your decision what you do. But it seems to me, based on hours of video, you've never particularly had to talk to her to make yourself understood."

"We'll see," he said and flew off unsure where he was going.

________________________________________

A few hours passed before there was a knock at the cell door. Carak opened it. Lindsay could see a sliver of Rivuk in the gap.

"How does the prisoner fare?" Rivuk whispered the question to his hest.

"I've just removed the bandages. She is able to take visitors."

Rivuk's voice dropped even lower. "How bad was it?"

"It was only the first day. They went easy on her."

That was easy? She thought of her soft, new flesh. What would they do to it tomorrow? No, she couldn't think about that.

Rivuk pressed his brow against Carak's. "Thank you, my friend." He pulled back, his expression cold. "You may leave us now."

"Yes, your grace." Carak slipped out of the room as Rivuk entered.

Rivuk stalked back and forth around the tiny cell, glancing over at her.

She managed to prop herself up on her arm. Her body still felt stiff from the torture and the new skin pulled uncomfortably at the old. "Rivuk?"

He looked at her with undisguised disgust. "I don't even know what I'm doing here!" he said.

Tears stung her eyes. "Elihim tricked me!" she cried.

"No. You were so blinded by your love for Sirix you let Elihim trick you," he spat. "I'm going!" He turned to the door.

"Rivuk, wait!"

"Are you going to try and deny it? Because if you do then this is our goodbye."

"No," she said, miserably. "No. I was blinded and I did something stupid. I'm so so sorry."

He turned, anguish in his eyes. "Why didn't you tell me? I could have helped you! Why do you still not trust me after all these iuna?"

She sat up on the bed. "I was afraid. He said they were making a bioweapon, that it would be ready soon."

"You didn't trust I would know about such a thing? That I wouldn't have told you? You trusted Elihim over me?"

"I didn't want them to die!"

"So, you chose them over me. Over the plan."

"No, it's not like that! I could never choose between you. I wouldn't let my husband and wife die for you any more than I would kill you for them. What can I do to convince you of that?"

"You can't," Rivuk said.

It was broken. She knew it was. Everything they'd built, destroyed in her one stupid act. She couldn't even defend herself on the merits of why she'd gone out of the tower in the first place. Every step she'd taken had been in betrayal.

She gazed up at him, completely shattered, a mirror of his own features. Her desperate mind reached out to his. "Then just let me love you like I could," she said.

"Fa-ka." he said. His hands hanging limply at his sides as his expression loosened.

He dove into her, taking her in his arms and kissing her. It didn't feel like love, it felt like pain seeking comfort in pain, but she embraced it. Embraced him. Kisses and tears fell like rain between them as they pulled their clothes off.

She was naked and under him, his brow resting on hers, copper eyes looking into hers. She could feel his tessect erect between her thighs, resting against her labia.

"This doesn't mean I forgive you," he said.

"You don't have to," Lindsay said. "OH!"

He raised up and pushed inside her. She felt her vagina open for him, but not in the easy yielding way. She was tight, so tight from all the pain and tension.

"Rivuk," she said, tears at the edges of her eyes.

He nodded, seeming to understand. He reached between her legs and began to rub her clit in gentle little circles. She gasped, her eyes widening as her breathing quickened.

Her body bloomed for him.

She moaned as her first orgasm dissipated, the tension flowing from her arms and legs like water. He pulled up her legs around his waist, kneeling as she hooked her ankles around him. He pushed forward.

"AH!" Her head arched back as she felt him deep inside her.

His hands were on her breasts, rubbing, squeezing, pulling. He sunk his teeth into her chest. She felt the penetration of her skin by them. He wasn't trying to be gentle.

She didn't want him to be.

"Harder!" she cried.

His teeth broke into her shoulder. Then his mouth was on her neck, sucking hard as he pulled her up into his crushing embrace. Gravity put her at the mercy of his cock. The pressure inside her, pressing against her cervix, was almost unbearable. She was panting hard, her eyes rolled back as her whole body tensed in his arms.

"Oh god, Oh God, OH GOD! RIVUK!" she screamed. It was the last intelligible thing she would scream for the next half an hour. Wave upon wave crashed over her. Her mind felt cold and distant as shudders racked her body, trapped by his tight embrace.

Then the pain. The searing burn of the acid flowing through her.

He pushed her back onto the bed. Her legs came undone as she bounced up and down under him, splaying open wide. Only his hands above her shoulders kept her in place. She was blind to everything but pleasure.

Warmth flowed into her as Rivuk closed his eyes. She moaned as she felt it spreading deep inside her. Rivuk pulled out and lay beside her, taking her in his arms and kissing her. His hands caressed her body. The fresh skin tingled from his touch. They kissed without speaking, bodies entwined, until Rivuk entered her again. This time he was gentler, his eyes met hers as his thrusts pushed her body. She could see the softness of his love for her shining through.

It was simple and tender, less about the cumming than the bond between them. As she felt his heat flow inside of her again, she gazed up into his passion-glazed eyes. She felt his hips pulling back.

Her hand flew to his forearm. "Don't." she said. "Please stay."

He nodded and lowered himself onto her. His mouth found her nipple and began to suck as his other hand traversed the smooth skin of her body and breast. Not teasing, just stroking. She ran her fingers through his silky black hair.

Her mind gently pressed against the closed door of his. It opened.

She was enveloped in warmth. She could feel his love for her all around his mind. He hadn't hated her at all, but she also experienced the depth of his pain when he'd been awoken by a message from his eldest brother that she'd been arrested for breaking into the Temple of the Immortal. Of seeing her thrown before the tribunal. Of his naked wrist.

There was no apology that could ever begin to heal that wound.

She gently turned his face to hers, feeling his lips release her breast. She gazed into his brilliant copper eyes and whispered, "I love you."

She felt the explosion within both their minds. Love and hate and sex and fear and pain and balm. He gripped her tightly to him, smashing her breasts and body against his flesh. His kisses said what his lips would not.

She fell asleep, bound in his arms.

It was two skell before he would speak to her.