Sisters of the Mists Ch. 02

A faint point of green light appeared within the crystal, slowly expanding outward until the glow permeated the entire pendant. When the light ebbed, Celes remarked, "Well, something happened. It must have worked."

Andrea jingled the chain, and said, "Only one way to find out. What should we scry for?"

Celes smiled slyly, "Not what – who."

"Danica," Andrea laughed. "I'll get a map."

Marlena slid to a halt in the hall outside the door, grabbing the doorframe to help arrest her momentum. "I need a little help!"

Andrea asked, "What's wrong?"

"Twelve girls in the process of trying to kill each other," Marlena explained, gesturing impatiently, and hurrying back out the door.

"Looks like the scrying is going to have to wait," Celes laughed, putting down the crystal and heading quickly toward the door.

{*****~~o~~0~~o~~*****}

High atop the crumbling battlements of Nightmare Castle, the Demon Lord Meckataur stood within the heart of a violent thunderstorm. His senses were far away, however, seeing through the eyes – and into the minds – of his demonic servants.

As if even the very sky rejected him, a stroke of electrical fury ripped through Meckataur's body. Not a single muscle in his purple-gray hide even twitched. The Devil's forked tongue ran over his razor-sharp teeth, as he absorbed the information his minions had gathered.

The desert elves possessed almost no magic. What little arcane energy they did utilize went entirely to sustaining their lives in the harsh climate of the desert. A banquet awaited Meckataur, when the time was right. He desired far more than to simply devour their flesh, and the signs were not yet in order.

A barely audible shout sounded from a doorway. Having what he needed now, Meckataur pulled back in his consciousness. The voice registered in his mind then, and he turned toward Arleen.

"Master, the female has transcended," Arleen informed him.

A low, rumbling growl erupted from Meckataur. "Bring her to the Great Hall."

"Yes, Master," Arleen responded, and vanished back into the portal, which slammed shut from the force of the wind.

The sound of the door banging closed had not even reached Meckataur before he vanished, reappearing in a roar of flame within the Great Hall. Standing high atop the dais at the head of the room, the Devil awaited the arrival of his spawn.

The moment Arleen entered with his progeny, a deep, wicked chuckle erupted from Meckataur. The female sauntering forward next to Arleen was dressed in a form fitting gown, which both revealed and concealed in a perfect balance. Drawing in a great breath, Meckataur could smell the female's scent, even from across the room. His loins stirred, and he knew any mortal would be mad with desire, immediately upon tasting her scent on the wind.

As she drew nearer, Meckataur could see the rosy glow of the female's full lips, and cheeks. More interesting to Meckataur were her eyes, however. The bright green orbs shone with a pinpoint of crimson fury, the sign of her transcendence.

Reaching the foot of the dais, the female fell to her knees, prostrating herself on the floor. When she looked back up, she said, "I have come, as you ordered, Sire," her voice a sultry whisper.

"What is your name," Meckataur rumbled, moving down the dais, his claws clicking on the stone.

"Delilah, Sire."

"Rise," Meckataur ordered.

Delilah stood, her every movement filled with grace, and designed to entice. Reaching out with one clawed hand, Meckataur held it before her body, tasting her powers.

The first was obvious, even without reaching within her – the seductive qualities that formed the core of her being. Deeper within, he found her more destructive powers. Delilah would be able to slowly sap the will – and the lifeforce – of her victims with her touch, leaving them none the wiser, until it was far too late. She also possessed the common ability to hurl fireballs, and the potential to absorb powers from other beings that died by her hands.

Lowering his hand, Meckataur growled, a satisfied – and yet terrifying – sound. "Hide the evidence of your power," he commanded.

Instantly, the miasma of arousing scents dimmed, as did the spot of burning red in Delilah's eyes. Appearing now to be nothing more than a very attractive female human, she would blend in perfectly with society.

"Master," came a call from the entrance of the Great Hall. Looking up, Meckataur saw Mopario approaching. The Devil's muzzle split into a grin when he saw the cleric leading yet another of the demonic spawn into the Hall.

The process was much the same, revealing the newly transcended demon's name to be Thanatos. The male possessed the touch of death, able to either snuff out life instantly, or to cause it to slowly fade. His touch could likewise cause – or reverse – decomposition in a corpse. Magic burned brightly in Thanatos' blood, and the demon had already chosen to wear the robes of a magic user.

"We must find them places amongst the mortals," Meckataur rumbled.

The defenses, and sentries – both demonic and dead – screamed to Meckataur, but Ebonar's voice arose at the same moment as the warning. Walking into the Hall, Ebonar said, "I believe I can be of assistance, in that regard."

"You dare much, Ebonar," Meckataur growled.

The faintest hints of a smile touched Ebonar's lips. Meckataur using his name indicated a level of respect that the Devil showed few mortals who did not serve him directly. "Perhaps, Demon Lord, but I have an offer, which should offset any offense on my part."

"Speak," Meckataur demanded.

"I see that Thanatos wears the robes of a wizard. If I am correct in assuming that is not a mere affectation, then I will take him into my school, where he will have access to boundless amounts of magic. He will have the opportunity to learn of mankind, and I will be able to cover up any lapses in judgement, which might reveal his nature before you desire it."

Meckataur's eyes narrowed, and he growled, "Go on."

"I can certainly find a place for Delilah as well, and I am likewise prepared to conceal any indiscretions she might perpetrate, in her youthful exuberance," Ebonar finished.

Knowing that the man did nothing out of kindness, Meckataur asked Ebonar, "What is your gain?"

Waving his hand in a dismissive gesture, Ebonar replied, "Quite simple, really. Your power will help me set fire to this world, and your progeny will help you to do so. In assisting you, I assist myself. I simply offer to hasten their education, while concealing their nature."

Meckataur stared hard at the handsome, powerfully built wizard for a few moments. "I do not doubt there is more, but your offer is acceptable."

Clapping his hands, Ebonar exclaimed, "Excellent! I can, of course, provide the same service for your other progeny. I will establish permanent gates for each of them, from wherever within my sphere of influence I place them, so that they can return here instantly. I trust our other mutually beneficial pact is working out well, with the Gate demon?"

Thinking of the desert elves, who would soon fall before the scythe of his rage, Meckataur let out a hissing chuckle, and replied, "I find the results satisfactory."

Ebonar smiled. "Excellent. I will take steps at once to prepare, and then seek you out when I am ready to receive your progeny." With that, Ebonar vanished from the Hall.

Meckataur stared at the spot Ebonar had just vacated. The Demon Lord knew there was more to Ebonar's offer than that which the man stated, but held no reservations about the deal. It accomplished Meckataur's goals, and the man couldn't possibly be any threat to the Devil himself. Ebonar obviously had no idea that he was about to assist in preparing the means of his own eventual death.

"Fool," Meckataur rumbled, and then his voice filled the room with guttural, mocking laughter.

{*****~~o~~0~~o~~*****}

Danica pulled on her clothing, a gown of light linen, and walked out the door of the bath house. Gesturing over her head with her shoulder, she said, "Your turn, Tari."

Hathortari smiled, and picked up her bundle of clothing. She moved swiftly toward the bath, just as eager for the pleasure as Danica had been.

Walking up to her host, Danica stood on her tiptoes and kissed his cheek. "Thank you, Harkhuf. I really needed that."

"You are quite welcome, Danica. I believe I can offer you assistance in another area, as well."

Danica shook out her still-damp hair, and then turned her gaze back to Harkhuf. "Oh?"

Harkhuf smiled. "As I mentioned, I have no servants on retainer here. I would be quite pleased for Hathortari and Rekhmire to serve in that capacity, if they are willing. My domicile is protected against many magics, and I believe they would be quite safe here. It would save you the effort of approaching Pharaoh's sons."

"That would be perfect," Danica responded. "I still think I'm going to see if I can get in the palace, though. I'd like to see if I can locate any of Zoraster's agents there, and warn the Royal family to be on the lookout. Maybe I can block some of his efforts here, if I stop them soon enough."

"As you wish, Danica. I will send messages to the palace for you, when you are ready." Turning to Rekhmire, Harkhuf asked, "So, how do you find my offer? I will offer exactly what you received previously, if not more. I will be using this house more frequently soon, and I would like to have competent people caring for it."

"If Hathortari has no objections, I have none," Rekhmire responded.

"Excellent! I shall ask her when she has finished her bath."

Danica chuckled. "You're cheating. She's already going to be in a good mood when she comes out of there."

Harkhuf winked, but said nothing.

Danica laughed, and then said, "I'm going to go pen a letter to Pharaoh's eldest son. I hope he's in the mood for a dance."

{*****~~o~~0~~o~~*****}

Andrea's face burned bright red. She carried one of the toys, made for her by Danica, which had been the object of the hair-pulling brawl amongst the girls. One of them had slipped into her room, and taken it. The rest felt they weren't getting their turns soon enough.

"We may have to do something about that," Celes said. "We've got to face facts – it's going to take them time to moderate the lust Zoraster instilled in them. I think we may need to sit down and make each of them a toy of their own. That might keep them from tangling with each other quite so much. Taking care of their own needs isn't a bad thing, but just jumping into bed with anyone who strikes their fancy could be."

Marlena pursed her lips for a moment, and then said, "I think you're right. We should wait until Danica gets back, though. She's far better at that than any of us."

Celes let out a little grunt, and nodded. "I'm learning, but I'll never have half the skill Danica does. We'll let her take the lead when she gets back." Turning to Andrea, Celes slapped the blonde playfully and said, "Oh, stop blushing."

"I don't know how they knew I had it," Andrea explained.

"I wouldn't put it past them to have simply been snooping while we studied," Celes said.

"They knew the command words," Andrea disagreed.

Celes' eyes widened. "You're right. That means they... Oh, I guess you can keep blushing then."

"Celes!"

Celes laughed. "I'm sorry, Andrea. They're curious. You remember what it was like. I know it's strange – believe me. I've had my own shivers thinking about some of the things Selena has said to me, and the looks the girls give us on occasion."

"They'll get there," Marlena interjected. "I can already tell that they're losing some of that unnatural lust. We'll teach them, and they'll be fine."

Looking out a window as they passed, Celes said, "Our first try at scrying is going to have to wait again. If we don't get cooking, we'll be making stew again. The girls will surely protest that."

The other two women nodded, and they all headed toward the kitchen.

{*****~~o~~0~~o~~*****}

Tari having agreed to Harkhuf's offer, Danica now discussed some additional safeguards she planned to implement, while everyone sipped fruit juice. A knock on the door prompted Harkhuf to rise and answer it. When he closed the door, he turned with a smile back to Danica. "It would seem you made quite an impression upon the sons of Pharaoh."

Harkhuf held out a letter, affixed with the royal seal, and Danica rose to take it. Breaking the seal, she read the letter with a chuckle. "I guess you're right. I'm welcome to come dance any time I wish, day or night. It says that instructions to let me in immediately upon my arrival, and escort me to the proper place have already been arranged."

Harkhuf asked, "You will go soon, then?"

Danica nodded. "Tonight, I think. I want to get everything out of the way, so I can relax a bit before I go home. They aren't expecting me for days, and I think I could use a break from all the studying I've been doing."

"Should you require anything, I am at your disposal," Harkhuf said, bowing his head slightly.

Danica considered for a moment, shrugged, and said, "I think I have something appropriate to dance in, and I'm sure they'll have musicians there, so I guess about all I need is transportation to the palace."

"Easily done," Harkhuf responded with a wide smile.

{*****~~o~~0~~o~~*****}

Danica felt somewhat self-conscious when she stepped out of the opulent canopied chair Harkhuf had arranged to convey her to the palace. The bearers stood in silence, awaiting her return. She could have chosen to be carried all the way to where she would dance, but preferred to walk. Being carried around like royalty made her feel odd.

"This way," Danica's guide instructed. The man had apparently known of her arrival long before she reached the palace. When she nodded, he started off deeper into the building.

As magnificent as the temple of Sekmamun was in this city, the palace made it look like a pauper's shack. Every surface was carved in bas relief, with the glint of silver, gold, and gemstones everywhere. Magnificent statuary greeted her around every corner, as well as servants, who moved no more than the statues to Danica's eye, unless about a task.

Her guide led Danica into a room, which obviously served as a waiting area for performers. There were curtained niches for dressing, and numerous couches and chairs spaced about the room.

Picking up a bundle from a table, Danica's guide turned, and handed it to her. "It is requested that you wear this for your dance, if it pleases you."

"Thank you, I think I can take it from here," Danica informed him.

Bowing, the man backed out of the room, pulling the curtain door shut behind him.

Opening the bundle, Danica smiled with amused surprise. The gown was translucent, and would do little to cover her body. Golden threads trimmed the sleeves, neckline, and hem. An image of the goddess Tayetet, whom everyone said Danica resembled, was likewise embroidered upon the gown in golden threads.

Danica stripped off her clothing, put on the gown, and then looked into a mirror. She smiled when she saw that the goddess' arms, uplifted in dance, appeared to be supporting her breasts. The feet of the goddess appeared to be pointing at her sex. Both of those physical attributes were well displayed by the gown.

Danica also found bracelets and anklets, each with several small chimes attached. Finally, she removed silver earrings, each with an emerald set at the point of piercing, and a tiny silver bell hanging from a delicate chain below. Putting on the jewelry, Danica tinkled the various bells, noting that they each had a unique tone, making her every movement into music.

Experimenting with a few moves, Danica determined that the sons of Pharaoh had obviously paid very close attention to her last dance. As she moved through the practiced steps, she found that the chimes blended in perfectly with the melody of the song in her head. She couldn't imagine how long it must have taken to perfect the making and arrangement of the little bells.

Danica took a few minutes to stretch, preparing for the workout she was about to get. The last thing she needed was a muscle cramp in the middle of her dance. When she felt she was ready, Danica passed through a doorway, into the room beyond.

In addition to the sons of Pharaoh, Danica found a troupe of musicians, and many women in the room. Danica had no way of knowing if the women were wives to the men, or blood relatives, but their dress marked them as highborn, for certain.

The eldest sibling spoke for the group. "We are most pleased that you have chosen to grace us once again with a dance. Our sisters and wives have joined us, that they might see this wonder, and perhaps emulate it."

Danica curtsied graciously. "I'm happy to dance for you, and I like this," Danica said, sliding her hands down her body to indicate the gown.

"It is yours. Should you wish to dance for us again, at a later time, I will have another made. Each will be unique."

"Are you trying to get me to dance for you every day?" Danica asked with a sly smile, drawing a ripple of laughter from everyone in the room.

"I would not be displeased by that outcome," the spokesman for the audience informed her.

Danica winked, and then tinkled one of the bracelets on her arm. "I can tell you've put a lot of work into these, so I will perform the same dance, to the same music, as my last."

"I thought you would notice," the son of Pharaoh said, smiling broadly. "The musicians know the music well, as I have them practice it daily."

Danica took her place at the center of the room, and the musicians prepared their instruments. Just as the troupe started to play, the entire room ceased all activity, bowing respectfully toward the back of the room. Not knowing what was going on, but certainly not wanting to give offense, Danica did likewise.

"Rise," commanded a strong voice.

Danica looked up at the same time as everyone else, to see two people had entered the room. One Danica knew had to be Pharaoh, because she recognized the unique crown he wore from numerous carvings depicting Pharaohs, past and present.

The other worried Danica more, because she recognized him as well. She had encountered the man rarely, but knew him to be a minion of Zoraster's. Though the wizard was dressed in native clothing, his features marked him as a foreigner for certain.

Reaching out with her mind, Danica silently cursed, when she saw in his thoughts that the wizard recognized her as well.

"My sons have spoken highly of your dance, and I too see your resemblance to the goddess. I would see your dance," Pharaoh said, taking the seat his oldest son immediately vacated.

As the siblings moved about, adjusting to the new seating order by rank, Danica curtsied and said, "I would be pleased to dance for you, revered Pharaoh."

The ruler of the land nodded, and Danica took her place once more, raising her arms to indicate she was ready to dance. The musicians struck up the tune, and Danica danced.

As she whirled, moving amongst the gathered audience, Danica noticed Zoraster's minion watching her, cold calculation in his eyes. Danica put him out of her mind, when she nearly forgot the next series of movements, concentrating on her dance. The vague impressions of a plan were coming to her, and no matter what, impressing Pharaoh with her dance figured strongly in those plans.

Concentrating her efforts, and her most erotic movements, on Pharaoh, she had good opportunity to observe him. Considering the age of his sons, he had obviously started quite young – and aged well. Though he surely had to be in at least his fifties – more likely sixties – he looked like a man of forty. He was also quite handsome, and Danica couldn't help but notice that amongst a room full of kilts tenting, his rose the tallest.