Drowning at Dusk Ch. 05

Other taverns yielded nothing conclusive, only more gossip about the slump in trade, complaints about increased docking fees in Mrenhold, and conspiracy theories that the local wine merchants were watering down their product to make more silver.

"I fear with every rumor we just end up with more questions," Dazyar said as we wandered the cobblestone streets.

"Agreed. But the details about the impact to trade are interesting. Maybe that was his plan? Cause dissent and chaos by hampering trade?" I sighed, shaking my head. "But this mention of the burglary makes me think someone else might be involved."

"And that might explain why the evidence we found at the mill was so...clumsy and obvious," Dazyar said. "Patrigan's name all over the documents, I mean."

Both of us resolved to seek more answers, but we had to check in with Xelari first.

When we returned to the Songhouse, I half-expected Xelari to have snagged another plaything during our absence in order to toy with us. Instead, we found her poring over books, scrolls, and maps within the largest of the rented rooms.

I blinked with shock as she turned to glance over her shoulder at us. In our absence, she'd used the alchemical ingredients to alter her eyes, turning the bright green to a dull, muddy red. She'd also reshaped her nose, thinning it and elongating it a little. The face was still a fetching one, but uncanny in its close resemblance to the face I knew so well. She'd cut off about half of her hair, straightened it somewhat, and dyed several long streaks black.

And yet it was still...her. The cheekbones, the jawline, the soft length of her neck. A woman whose touch I still craved. A woman whose body I still longed to explore, to punish, to tease. And those eyes, despite their unfamiliar color, were still the same ones that had stared so imperiously down at me when Terakh had used me.

"Not too hideous, I hope," she said, chuckling and looking back to her work.

"Not at all. I'd still happily drag you to bed. Shame there's a bit less hair to tug on, though."

I crossed the room and informed her of all that we'd learned. Looking over her shoulder, I noted that her research materials were various histories of the city, notably about the Kossils and the Lord-Protectors.

"You two were more productive than I was," she said, wrinkling her nose and closing one of the massive tomes. "I'm just trying to get caught up on the history of this city in case the past has shaped recent events. I'm afraid with each new name or detail I only grow more baffled as to why Patrigan Kossil or Lord-Protector Heroth would act to throw the city into crisis."

"And with this burglary attempt in the mix, it may not even be Patrigan or Heroth pulling the strings. It could just be someone trying to ruin their good name. Stir up trouble, create a crisis. Perhaps a necromancer, perhaps not."

"On that note," Xelari said, gesturing to the clay cups she'd used to prepare her alchemical ingredients. "There is the risk that your investigations may cause you to cross paths directly with Patrigan yet again. You may need a disguise of your own."

"I already took care of that," I said with a proud little grin. "I rarely meet with a client as my true self, or I drastically change my appearance after the first meeting. When I met with Patrigan, my hair was dyed blonde and long enough to fall past my shoulders, and I wore a very nice, prim, and proper dress with a stuffed corset to make my bosom bigger. One never knows when a client is going to betray you, so I try to protect myself when possible. He might recognize me if he gets close enough or hears my voice, but if he simply gives someone else a description of me, they won't have a chance."

Dazyar chuckled at that.

"Clever."

"A lesson brutally learned during one of my first contracts, when a client sent another assassin after me once the job was done to tie up loose ends."

I still had a few faint scars on my ribs from that particular knife-fight.

"Back to the concern at hand: what about a more direct approach?" Dazyar asked.

"I was thinking the same," said Xelari, her voice dropping to a low growl. "We know where he lives, after all. Esharyn here has proven herself quite the adept infiltrator. With Dazyar's magic as a distraction, and mine for support, I am certain she could make her way inside and tear the truth from his lips."

"There's likely to be increased security at his estate due to the burglaries," I pointed out. "But Dazyar's not wrong about a more direct approach. I just don't think sneaking into his estate is the safest option." I glanced at the bard. "With all of your knowledge of events and festivities in the city, do you think you can find out if Patrigan is going out on the town anytime soon? A public event, for example, would be an ideal time to make our move. Something grand enough to serve as a distraction or a cover."

The bard winced.

"Finding that out should be easy enough. But I'd rather avoid my name and reputation being tied to an assassination."

"We aren't there yet," I said, raising my hands. "We just need information. And if it helps, you don't need to be the one to do the prying. Just point me in the right direction, and I'll gather the information from there."

He let out a long sigh.

"It's fine, it's fine. I'm already in deep. And Sergayl himself might even know of something that can help."

The bard rose and wandered back down to the bar. The very second the door closed, Xelari rose to her feet and snatched at my belt.

Laughing, I gently batted her hands away.

"Really?"

"Of course. I put on that little show for you, pleasuring Dazyar when you returned with the alchemy supplies. Why should we not do the same for our bard?"

"Because he'll be back up here in a few minutes, maybe less. Then we'll probably need to move quickly, to prepare for our chat with Patrigan."

She gave me a desperate, needy little pout that I hadn't imagined she was capable of making.

"Insufferable," I grumbled, kissing her on the cheek.

"Come on, malrixi," she purred, once more reaching for my belt. "I'll let you use me as you wish. You can sit on my face, strap the toy to your hips..."

"Later," I said, laughing and gently pushing her away. Tempted as I was, my mind was too honed in on the matter at hand to brook such a distraction. Once we had a more firm plan in place, I'd probably succumb to the temptation.

She huffed, and stomped rather dramatically back over to the pile of books to resume her research.

Dazyar returned a few minutes later, a freshly-filled cup of wine in hand.

"Good news and bad news," he said. "Good news is that the city council is helping to sponsor the production of a play later in the week. Which means that some members are expected to be in attendance, Patrigan among them."

"Wondrous," I said, beaming at our good fortune. "What's the bad news?"

"The bad news is that the play isThe Twice-Dead Dragon."

Frowning, I looked over to Xelari, who offered a shrug which confirmed her own ignorance.

"So?"

"It's bloodydreadful," Dazyar whined. "It's all spectacle, no substance. Half the damned play is an excuse for illusionists and enchanters to show off, conjuring images of dragons and knights and mages. It's all battles and duels, only a handful of decent songs, and noheart to it."

Xelari and I both laughed.

"All the better, then," she said. "If it's all spectacle, all eyes will be on the stage while we make our move."

"Given the grandeur of the event and how high profile it is, tickets are probably out of the question," I said.

"Naturally. But there are likely other ways in. Sergayl knows one of the bards performing, which means I might be able to get you in as performers, servants, or theater staff." He chuckled. "I suppose neither of you know how to dance or sing, do you?"

Xelari gave him a sly smile.

"I do. But I highly doubt such skills would be...applicable or appropriate for Arkostead. I was a Moondancer."

Dazyar's eyes bulged at that.

"Truly? I've heard stories and rumors, and nearly every bard dreams of bearing witness to the sacred dances."

"As I said, hardly appropriate for the spectacle that Patrigan will be attending. And I'd also much rather have a role not on stage, to better assist with our confrontation."

Licking his lips, Dazyar looked to me.

"Has she...shown you?"

"No. Just shared a few stories."

"You didn't seem interested in actually seeing the performance," Xelari cooed. "You seemed more interested in the lewd tales."

"I never asked because it seemed...personal. Sacred. Not something just to show a lover."

"They say the Moondance is a thing of beauty. Raw, sensuous sorcery," said Dazyar, before swallowing. "You could make yourself a damned fortune by just putting on a single show, Xelari."

Her soft, sensuous laugh filled the room.

"As delightful as it would be to stun a vast audience with a performance that would stay with them for a lifetime, it is too risky for the moment. If Patrigan knew my identity, it's possible he also knows I am a Moondancer, and word could get out, arousing his suspicions."

The concern was completely logical, of course, though the refusal was no less disappointing. Gods, I almost salivated at the thought of her curvaceous form writhing upon a stage, every movement of her limbs calculated to ignite lust and adoration from the crowd...

"You called it 'raw, sensuous sorcery,'" I said with a nod at Dazyar, before looking to Xelari. "Is that true? Is it magical?"

"Of course," she said. "Sorcery, after all, is the communication of power. That's why runes are so potent: they are symbols. The same with Dazyar's music. A dance, too, is a symbol, and a form of communication. So a Moondance, when performed correctly, can inspire a certain response."

"A damned shame you're a wanted woman, then," Dazyar said with a forlorn sigh. "I'd give a year off my life for the chance to see a Moondance. Not just for wicked, lustful purposes, either. But just to witness something of such cultural and artistic significance."

"I never said you'd never get the chance to see it," Xelari said, her voice dropping to a low, sultry purr. "Only that I do not dare perform it in a public venue."

Dazyar and I shared a short, shocked glance. My mouth went dry.

"For the two of us?" I asked.

The dusk elf wandered over the window, cracked it open, and brushed her fingers through the glittering moonlight.

"It would be a pale shadow of a true performance, but entertaining enough. A true Moondance would require the right time of year, the right sacred altars, the right position of the moons...but this will do."

A delirious grin spread across both my face and the bard's.

"Sit," she bade us, gesturing towards the bed.

The two of us practically collided in our haste to comply, and watched her with wide, expectant, and hungry eyes.

She removed her cloak and boots, set them aside, then collected the pillowcases from the bed.

"Blindfold yourselves," she said curtly, handing over the fabric.

Anticipation shifted to confusion.

"Isn't the point of a dance towatch?" I asked.

"No. The point is to witness. There is a distinction."

"And what about music?" Dazyar asked. "Surely you need some sort of accompaniment."

"No. The music will come in the form of your heartbeats as you imagine my body." She placed her hands on her hips, affixing us both with one of her chill-inducing glares. "Now are you going to obey?"

I moved as quickly as I did in combat, bunching up the pillowcase, sliding it over my eyes and hurriedly tying it behind my head.

"I do like to be blindfolded and teased from time to time," Dazyar murmured. "But this is something new."

Keenly I recalled the way Xelari had ordered me to lay on my back, staring up and away from her while she'd pleasured herself. I'd managed to endure that particular teasing; I could survive this new torture as well.

First came the rustle of fabric, then a longing sigh from Xelari, and the sound of her feet tapping on the floor.

Half a minute of silence, interrupted only by my occasional heavy breath. Something rustled and swished in front of me, and I pictured a nude Xelari giving a little twirl, her hair coming within inches of my face.

And then the faintest of touches: a finger brushing quickly against my cheek, toes grazing my shin, hair flitting against the side of my neck. Judging from the occasional murmur or gasp from Dazyar, he was receiving similar treatment.

My hair stood on end. Energy crackled within and around me.

Was this the sorcery she'd spoken of?

"Focus," she purred, with the same intense tone she'd deployed during our fiercer bouts of lovemaking.

My senses honed in on her voice, on the soft sounds of her movements, the rhythmic taps of her feet upon the floor. A gentle hand brushed over my lips; Dazyar and I moaned as one. Xelari's musical laugh answered us. The energy shifted. Goosebumps erupted all over my body, and the muscles of my thighs and calves quivered, as I felt a surge of energy similar to what I felt when I activated a runestone.

I could see her, dancing and writhing in my mind's eye, almost as if the blindfold wasn't even there. Thin rivulets of sweat ran down her curves as she moved, twirling and writhing, occasionally leaning backwards to show off her flexibility and the glistening folds of her sex. Her hands rose, caressing her breasts, before smoothly moving upward. She paused there, arms extended and body taut, then she twirled forward and executed a graceful flip, her hair twirling, her breasts bouncing.

I heard a soft thud as she landed, and flinched. Had that just been my imagination? Or was the power of the Moondance tearing through the blindfold and directly into my mind?

The soft rustles and murmurs persisted. Xelari continued to move around within that little fantasy, completely outside of my control, like a dream I couldn't quite grasp. She locked eyes with me, and I realized that her eyes within the fantasy were the true bright green, not the dull crimson she'd changed them to.

She smiled at me, mouthed my name, and did another flip and a quick roll that brought her to her knees, directly in front of me.

"Blindfold off, Esharyn."

My trembling hands tore it away.

Before me, on her knees, in the exact same position I'd seen within my mind, was the sweaty dusk elf. She bore the same sultry smile, the same gleam in her gaze.

"And me?" Dazyar rasped.

"Not yet," she said, her voice both sweet and menacing all at once.

She leaned up, her soft lips seeking mine. I moaned against her, my hands gripping her hips and pulling her tightly against me.

"This is quite unfair," Dazyar grumbled. He shifted, and I spared a quick glance over at the hard cock straining against his trousers.

"See to him, malrixi," Xelari purred. "While I dance."

I obeyed without a sound or a moment's hesitation. I'd have obeyed even were it not for the enthralling dance, but I wondered if the ritual had in fact charmed me to be her dutiful, lustful little pet. I shivered at the thought, and deftly undid Dazyar's belt.

He reached for the blindfold, but I swatted his hand away.

Within moments I'd shoved the belt aside and tugged down his trousers, exposing a long, dark cock framed with neat dark curls of hair. The shaft was nearly as long as Terakh's but not quite as thick.

More than adequate for tonight's purposes.

I thought about taking him into my mouth, but doing so would have denied me the sight of Xelari's skilled movements. Instead I turned about, undid my belt, squirmed out of my boots, and shimmied my trousers down my legs.

Dazyar moaned and murmured while Xelari continued her sensuous dance: graceful leaps, elegant twirls, achingly beautiful rocks of her hips, as if she were being fucked by some invisible lover right there on the floor.

A little gasp left the bard as I took hold off his cock. Wet as I was, it was an easy matter to turn my back to him and slide down, settling my ass against him. I purred with delight as he filled me, my hands settling against his knees to support myself.

Through it all, I met Xelari's eyes.

Of course I'd imagined taking Dazyar inside of me at some point, though during the course of our travels I'd never once pictured our first fuck to be quite likethis.

"Esharyn," he moaned. Though blindfolded, he had no trouble reaching out, one hand sliding beneath my shirt to grope my left breast, the other clutching tightly at my hip.

"Don't moan for me," I said, panting a little as I raised my hips, before rocking back against him. "Moan forher."

Both of them laughed, with Xelari's laughter far more controlled in contrast to Dazyar's, which was interspersed with little gasps and groans as I worked my hips up and down. I grinned, tossing my hair as I reveled in the sensation of a new cock in my cunt, and basked in the approving heat of Xelari's gaze.

"You still see her, don't you?" I asked, reaching one hand behind me to cradle his cheek.

"Yes," he said, grunting a bit as he started to rock off the bed, matching me thrust for thrust. "She's beautiful."

Gods, the sorcery of the Moondance must have been a powerful damned thing indeed, to breach through the haze of pleasure I was inflicting upon him. My shaking hand moved his hand from my hip to my sex, and he took the hint, his fingers proving to be as deft at working a clit as they were at working a fiddle. Within moments he had me moaning and whimpering, though the rising delight had just as much to do with Xelari's dancing as it did Dazyar's skillful touch.

Xelari fell to her knees once more and crawled across the floor towards me, her eyes glued to my sex. I gasped with anticipation as she closed in, her fingers running along my shins, her nails then scraping gently over my thighs.

"Hold still, darlings," she said to Dazyar, and placed a gentle kiss upon his lower thigh.

With a growl of effort he went still, but I rocked for a few more seconds before finally relenting, slumping back against him, keeping my legs spread wide.

Our gazes still locked together, Xelari leaned up, kissed Dazyar's hand to urge him away from my sex, and her tongue replaced his fingers.

Firm, rapid licks drew a soft cry from me. As the efforts of her tongue intensified, I felt Dazyar twitch inside of me.

"Gods," he whimpered. "I can feel that."

I chalked that up to the intensity of the Moondance, an aftereffect of the sorcery-induced haze. The beautiful desperation in his tone poured more kindling onto the fire, and within a minute I was panting and hissing, inwardly praying that Xelari wouldn't just pull back right from the edge.

With one hand grasping Dazyar's cheek, my other hand reached down and caressed Xelari's hair.

"Just let me have this," I begged, each word punctuated by a sharp gasp and whimper. "No games. Please."

She gave the barest little nod, and maintained those firm, commanding licks.

My fingers tightened against her hair and against Dazyar's cheek. My left leg shot upwards, toes curling, and I snarled out a few curses as the climax struck me like a thunderbolt. My head snapped back, bumping into Dazyar's face. We both laughed at the clumsy collision, but the brief burst of pain and amusement did nothing to fend off my climax.

My laughter turned to a series of quick little moans, and then a cry of need as Xelari pulled her lips away. Gods, if she'd have kept going, I'd have surely risen to a second climax. Perhaps even a third not long after.

"Resume, Dazyar," she commanded, my juices coating her lips.

Both of his hands gripped my hips as he started to pound up against me. Grinning triumphantly, Xelari slipped her fingers between my legs, taking over where her tongue had left off. Her lips found my neck, giving me a soft suckle and a gentle bite.