Chapter 22: Crying Call

They looked down into the blackened destruction that had been Corlan's camp. It was hard for Lindsay to immediately process what she was seeing. At the center of the charred clearing were the remains of a large structure that had probably been the main dining tent. She could see broken beams and bits of cloth and tables and then she saw, among the pieces of wood, a bone, blackened, sticking up between two broken beams.

Her eyes followed it to the rest of the body. And then bodies and bones were all she could see, everywhere, littering the ground. And tiktiks. Swarming around them like flies. Tearing pieces of flesh off the carcasses, leaving faces half flesh, half skull, eyeless, lipless...

"Oh God!" Lindsay turned just in time to throw up. Donil rubbed her back.

"Do you know where they might go?" Donil asked Veralosa.

Veralosa squinted into the hills. "There are some caves maybe a mile north of here. If they were able to get out, they would head there."

"Then we should go there first. Lindsay, are you feeling up to checking the camp?"

"Yeah," Lindsay said, wiping her mouth.

"You don't have to, Veralosa and I can handle it ourselves."

"No, I'm good."

They made their way down, picking through the wreckage. Lindsay tried not to look as she brushed things aside with her feet. It was all just wood and sticks, she told herself. That was all, wood and sticks.

Then her foot hit against something hard and round. Instinctively, she looked down. Horror buzzed down her brain to her spine, her vision went black for an instant as she stared into the empty eye sockets of a skull. She wanted to cry out, to stop, to go back up the hillside, but Veralosa and Donil kept moving, unfazed. No, she could do this.

Veralosa suddenly stopped causing Lindsay to bump into him.

"What is it?" Donil asked.

"It's my father," Veralosa said, turning over a body.

Lindsay looked over to a place that was somewhat familiar and yet strange. Whatever fire had raged that night burned the crates and tents that had stood at the place Corlan fell until it was unrecognizable to her, as was Corlan himself except for his armor. Most of his face was mottled with the early signs of decay, except the half that had been exposed to the elements; that had been eaten to the bone, the eye long gone. As she looked at it, there was a weird pulsing under the other eye. Suddenly, a tiktik burst through the eyelid and snarled angrily at having been disturbed.

Lindsay spun away, holding her fist to her mouth. Donil placed a hand on her shoulder. "We should see if we can find the nursery."

Lindsay remembered the child in her vision. "Donil, I don't think we'll find anything there."

"I know. But we should give him a moment." She indicated with her head to Veralosa.

"Ok."

They tramped along a path toward where the nursery might be. Pushing aside some tree branches, Lindsay jumped back. A Nobillo stared at her with giant, milky eyes, its needle-toothed jaw wide open, ready to attack! It took her a moment to realize it wasn't moving, and another to register why.

A huge sharpened log had impaled it from the side. Purple blood stained the ground below, surrounded by a rim of tiktik prints. Its wings hung limply behind it, tips brushing the earth.

"At least the trap worked," Donil said.

"They're all going to be dead," Lindsay said. She felt numb.

Donil touched her hip. "I know, but we need to check. Even an egg would deserve to be saved."

They walked on until they reached the nursery. It was half-collapsed in on itself though it had been spared the fire. "I don't like this," Donil said as they approached the darkened door. "Watch your step. It looks like it might go at any second."

Lindsay nodded in agreement.

Light sliced through the darkness of the nursery through cracks where the ceiling had caved in. Lindsay could see, in the corner, where the two nurses were, half-sitting against the wall in a pool of gold, their hips ripped from their sockets, everything from their ribcage down completely hollow. Golden Nobillo tracks led from them into the main building. Lindsay focused her eyes on the tracks, smeared along the wooden floors, golden lines from bloody wing tips trailing behind.

"There's nothing left," Donil said as she checked the cribs.

"No," Lindsay agreed, picking up a large panel of wood from a crib.

She gasped. Her vision blackened. Underneath the wood was the chubby blue arm of a baby. Just the arm. The wood must have fallen on it and rather than bother to remove the panel, the Nobillo just tore its arm off.

It was too much! Her stomach heaved. Tears stung her eyes. She fought to wipe them before Donil could see but they just kept coming. She felt a hand on her shoulder.

"Lindsay, go to the top of the hill and keep a lookout."

"But I can do it!" she objected.

"No, you can't," Donil said, firmly. "And there's no reason you should. You don't have to be a hero; you already are one. For your sake and mine, give yourself a break. It's not going to get any easier."

"Ok," Lindsay said, still unsuccessfully fighting back tears. "But if you need me, call me."

"I will," Donil said.

Lindsay walked out of the nursery and back up the hill in a daze. She wanted to do something, something more than just standing there being useless. She wanted to go to the palace; she could do that. Find out some important detail to keep this from ever happening again.

But if Prince Rivuk caught her... Maybe she'd just go to see him, yell at him until she ran out of words. Make him read her mind so he could see what they had done.

But no. She couldn't. She'd promised Donil. Breaking a promise to her in less than a day? Not only that, she wasn't especially keen on testing the prince's resolve. The sun glinted off the stone into her eye, momentarily blinding her. Then she had an idea, perhaps there was something she could do.

------------------------------------

She'd seen them going this way, the woman and her baby. That there even was a baby to be saved made her all the more determined. She ran the way she'd watched them go, west, away from the caves. The woman looked terrified, like something was chasing her, but Lindsay hadn't seen anything.

She heard a loud rustling up ahead. "Stop!" she cried. "The Bona Serat Corsar sent us."

The rustling stopped and Lindsay approached slowly. "It's ok, it's ok. We're here to help." She could see the woman now, she hadn't stopped intentionally, she was cornered against a large rock wall face.

"What is the name of the Bona Serat Corsar?" the woman demanded, trying to see where Lindsay was.

"Sirix. And he sent us to find you."

"Who are you?"

"Indsayee." Lindsay stepped from the brush into the woman's sight.

"You're the yooman!"

Lindsay nodded, not sure how the woman felt about her relationship with Sirix. Hopefully, not as bitter as Kadax or there wouldn't be much she could do. "I am."

"He sent his consort? For us?"

"Yes. I mean, I volunteered."

The woman fell to her knees. "Thank you! Thank you both!"

Duck! Lindsay slammed down to her knee. Something heavy flew above her. She felt the back of her shirt tear. She was up in an instant, unsheathing her harpoon from her back. She threw it instinctively to where the thing landed. There was a dull thunk and a shriek of pain.

"So, you want to attack a girl from behind?" She pulled out a second harpoon and pushed through the brush. "That was my favorite shirt!"

There was the Nobillo, pinned to a tree through his midsection by her harpoon.

She pulled out her knife. "I've got some questions for you, and, unlike Carak, I won't be patient."

The creature's already giant eyes widened. "Carak? How do you know Carak?"

She hadn't even fully realized the weight of what she'd said. Somehow, seeing a Nobillo just brought to her mind the idea that she could speak openly of Carak and it would be understood, not that it would be sheer madness for her to even be aware of his existence. "Your Hest, right? I know Carak. I know the cross he carries on his back."

The Nobillo scrunched back against the tree, clearly as terrified as the woman had been. But why? Because he was afraid of death, or because he was afraid he might have attacked an ally?

"Kill me! Be merciful and kill me! I didn't know!" Water ran from the rims of his large eyes. "Don't take my wings!" He shrieked hysterically, "Don't take my wings! Kill me! But don't take my wings!"

"Take your wings? Is that what happened to Carak? Tell me what happened to his wings and I'll kill you like you ask."

"No, he cut them off himself to escape the woods. But the king would have if he didn't. If it wasn't for the young prince."

"You mean Prince Rivuk, the third prince?"

"You know the prince?" The Nobillo began to whimper. "The plan... the plan... I risked the plan..." he gibbered. "I deserve to die! I need to die!"

"How did you risk the plan?"

He started pulling at the harpoon in his gut, worsening the wound. His voice became hysterical. "I need to die! I need to die!" He yanked out the harpoon and plunged it into his own chest.

She rushed to him. "What is the plan? Tell me!"

"I am sorry, your Grace..." he mumbled, his eyes paling, "I failed you..."

"Answer me!" She shook him hard. "Answer me!"

A high-pitched shriek sounded from behind her. She only had time to glimpse the creature leaping at her, taloned hands spread, needle-toothed mouth open wide. She felt like she was turning in slow motion as the large body flew at her.

Suddenly, something slid between them in a flash of blue and silver. The Nobillo seemed to jerk up and fly above her. It crashed down hard, rolling. She could hear the bones of its wings cracking as it did. It stopped, lying still, with a harpoon buried in its chest.

Donil stood in front of her, chest heaving.

"Donil! You saved me!"

Donil, still panting heavily, turned to Lindsay and smiled.

"Donil? Donil of Mt. Sabor?" The woman, holding her baby to her chest, crept closer.

"Yes," Donil said.

"Oh praise the Bona Serat Corsar! Please, my baby, could you look at him?"

"Of course." She took the baby and began the examination.

That night, they camped out with fifty-three Bonat. Donil's perfect features were marred by the signs of exhaustion as she tended to the wounded, Lindsay brought over another bowl of boiled water. Placing it beside the doctor she faltered backward.

"Lindsay, you need to sleep," Donil said.

"No, I'm fine," Lindsay said, fighting to stifle a yawn. "You need help."

"I can manage on my own. Go to bed, Lindsay."

"Is that an order?"

The corner of Donil's mouth rose. "It will be if you don't."

She rested her chin on Donil's shoulder. "I wish you would come with me." She was done playing coy. She wanted Donil in her arms, even if she didn't have the energy to go further tonight.

"I'll be along soon."

Lindsay couldn't help but feel a little rejected as she shuffled off to the tent and lay down beside Veralosa. She could wait for Donil. It wouldn't be long. She closed her eyes.

----------------------------------------

She was in a large square ballroom of white tiles interspersed with grey surrounded by tall arches, not unlike the palace hallway. It floated in an undefined space. It neither felt real nor was she bothered by that fact, as though it was only natural it should be that way. Standing in the middle of the square, with his broad back toward her, was a man with six wings and black hair, dressed in his black uniform, his head crowned with a golden ring.

"I thought I told you if you came back, I'd kill you myself," he said without turning around.

"I'm not here because I want to be. If it was up to me, I'd never see you again. After what you've done," she spat the words.

He turned; the flash of his copper eyes momentarily took her breath away. Something about the location accented his features, heightened his beauty. The hawk-like sharpness was softened. "What have I done?"

"There are fifty-three survivors of a camp of over three-hundred with me. You ordered the attack."

"There are other princes. I had nothing to do with the attack."

"You knew about it and you didn't even try to stop it."

"No. Why would I?" He said it so damn calmly!

Lindsay stepped forward and struck him across the face. He caught her hand, gripping it firmly, but not firm enough for it to hurt.

"You don't seem to know how to speak to royalty."

She turned her back on him. "I don't care if you are royalty. I'm not here to talk to you, anyway."

He pulled her hand, causing her to turn back toward him, their faces close. "Then why are you here?"

"I don't know. Why are you? Isn't it a bit late for a dance?"

"This isn't a part of my castle."

"Where is it, then?"

"A shared dream, perhaps. An effect from entering your mind."

"You don't know?"

"We usually don't let them live long enough to find out. But, since we're here, may I have this dance?" He bowed. Ethereal music began to play.

And just like that, they were dancing. The dream didn't seem to care what her answer would be. The floor fell away and they were in midair.

"This is a strange dance," Rivuk commented.

"It's called a waltz," Lindsay said, tersely.

"From your world, then."

"Why did you say you hoped the Bonat would destroy you?"

"I should think it would be obvious. We are a blight on this world and I believe we are too far gone to be saved. The best thing that could be done is for our race to be destroyed. But that is unlikely and I doubt the Bonat would have the stomach for it. And so, we persist." He spun her. "But it is a pity you should be destroyed with them."

"And what do you mean by that?" Lindsay asked, irritated.

"That it is a pity or that they shall be destroyed?"

"Both."

"The plan is already in motion for their destruction, it cannot be stopped, not by you or I or anyone. But you don't have to go with them, you can surrender yourself to the Nobillo."

"To be killed and used for experiments."

"What if I were to guarantee your safety?" He spread her arms, shifting her from side to side.

"Why would you do that?"

"I've grown rather fond of you, Lindsay Weaver. If you were to surrender yourself to the Nobillo, to me, what if I were to promise to make you my princess? As the wife of a third son, you'll never be a queen, but you'll have some power and enjoy comfort for the rest of your days." He stopped dancing, looking directly into her eyes. "No more running. No more fighting. And I would love you dearly."

She could see in his copper eyes he meant it. She spun herself, his hand trailed along her waist. "It is tempting. But this is just a dream."

"Maybe. Maybe not."

"Prove that it's not."

"If I do, will you consider my offer?" Rivuk asked.

"I don't know."

"Because of who I am or because of who my people are?"

"Your people."

"Then you have no objection to me?"

"I don't know you well enough to have an objection. But you are handsome and you have been very kind to Carak. So you might be a decent person, if your race wasn't made up of a bunch of genocidal maniacs."

"That's fair. Well, not about Carak, he's been like a father to me - my kindness toward him should not count to my character. But, were my people not?"

She thought for a moment. "I'd want to get to know you better."

He ran his fingers through her reddish-brown hair, pulling her brow to his. She made no effort to stop him. He closed his eyes, releasing a deep breath. His hand slid down her neck to her shoulder. "It might be a dream."

"If it is...?"

"If it is. If it is what would you want to do with me, knowing I've offered you my hand and my heart? Another dance?"

She didn't really think, the dream seeming to move on its own illogical path allowing no real introspection. He was hot, he was into her, it was a dream. And her body was frustrated from Donil's sudden coolness. The only consequences of a dream were the weird feelings in the morning before it was forgotten.

She kissed him. He seemed to understand what a kiss was for he returned it perfectly. Their clothes disappeared as their bodies embraced in midair. Her breasts pressed against his broad chest. She could feel the softness of his feathers against her skin as they flapped, keeping them both afloat.

"Really?" he asked.

"Mmhmm." She nuzzled into his neck.

"And if it's not a dream?"

"It's a dream."

"But if it's not?"

"I want to have sex with you. Unless you don't want to, will you shut up and let me?"

He pressed his lips against hers. She felt something hard growing. She looked down to see what appeared to be his penis extending from just above his crotch. It had a large head compared to a somewhat narrow shaft, not unlike the tail of a scorpion in form and bend. It was a weird place for her brain to put it and even odder to look at, but that didn't especially matter, she wanted to feel it inside of her.

She felt weightless as he lifted her body onto him. Her head fell back in pleasure as he penetrated her, sliding her down his cock. She wrapped her legs around his waist, feeling the brush of his wings.

His hands gripped her waist sliding her up and down. It was strange the way the large head felt, the way it pushed through and came back. The way her vagina closed in around it. The way the curve pressed it into her g-spot. It was a new exquisite pleasure, a sensation that intoxicated her mind and body.

She was panting, moaning, he was moving her faster. "Ohhh!" she screamed. "Sirix!" Wrong name. It was a dream, it didn't matter. All that mattered was she came. She hoped the dream prince wouldn't stop at one.

He pulled her in. "Rivuk," he said with a kiss, her body still moving up and down in his hands.

"Oh Rivuk," she moaned. "Don't stop."

"That's better."

He was going even faster now; she heard a faint moan from his lips. But she barely had time to comprehend it as a second orgasm tossed her back and forth in his hands. Rivuk's arms wrapped tightly around her. Suddenly, it felt like there were fireworks inside of her.

"Rivuk!" she cried.

She heard a low, stuttering moan in reply. They floated down to the floor. He caressed her in his arms as she felt his cock retract from inside of her.

They were lying in bed. A real bed, like her one at home. "Interesting place you've chosen," Rivuk said, stroking her cheek.

Lindsay rested her head on his chest. "Just what I'm used to, I guess. I didn't expect my mind to come up with that. I wonder if your cock really looks that way."

"When we meet, I'll have to show you."

"Why did it feel like that when you came?"

"Like what?"

"Like a million tiny explosions inside of me."

"Oh. It might be because our females have a barrier to get through before they can be fertilized, so the male releases an acidic discharge to dissolve it before he ejaculates. I should have warned you. It's not very powerful, but it would be possible for it to burn you," Rivuk said.

"That might be the weirdest dream logic my mind has ever come up with."

"It didn't hurt, did it?"

"No. I liked it. It was just... unexpected."

"Good. Perhaps you'll enjoy it even more when we meet again."

"Rivuk, it's just a dream. A very weird but nice dream."

"And if I prove to you it's not?"

"How would you do that?"

He smiled. "You'll know when I do. May we meet in a dream again, someday."

Lindsay bolted upright from between Donil and Veralosa. Her body still felt the effects of an orgasm. It had been a long time since she'd had a true sex dream.

It was weird that it had been the Nobillo prince her brain chose, but it made some sense. Wanting to verbally excoriate him had been on her mind all day. Instead, she'd had sex with him. But dreams were weird like that. Things like the scorpion dick and the acid sperm would give one of those two-bit dream interpreters a field day. Sex could represent dominance. She smirked. And he was doing exactly what she wanted.