Surfacing Ch. 11

Given that he looked very demonic, that did not surprise me. "What about mating in an altered form?"

He blinked, then grinned to show teeth. "You trust I can?"

"Your sire could. And there are tales of disappearing acts about you. Taking another form would be quite the performance. You will have to show me sometime."

The mercenary chuckled and nodded, acknowledging that I was correct in my guess. "Indeed. But no, I do not maintain another form to fool a mate."

That was better. I was glad; less drama for me to deal with. I nodded. "And do you only accept treasure as payment?"

"No. Favors in kind, resources, knowledge of value; they work as well. I am one of the Guild; this is what we do."

Again I nodded. I could work with that.

Finally I asked, "What about releasing me from the compulsion?"

Mourn paused and considered me, looking down. I thought I saw something short and hard in his black hair, a somewhat lighter grey, two on each side, like...horns? Was he growing horns?

He said, "You answered my questions when your tongue was free to do so, and I believe you do not know more. I would hold one more question about your queen, to use at my discretion."

I still wanted to shiver inside from the memory of last night, but I nodded firmly. "Very well. One more question, and only about Ishuna. Then I have repaid you."

He nodded. "Agreed."

It was a light payment for saving my life, and my unborn.

I sighed. "If you are rested, perhaps we could meet Gavin and leave now. I would check the cannibal camp one more time before we leave for any sign of the third, the other Drow Sister, and Gavin will still be able to see until the Sun sets. You said we could bargain on the way to Augran?"

Mourn nodded and moved to slip into his harness and get geared up. "He has not figured out how to use the Words yet?"

"It has only been a few hours."

"Very well."

*****

I hated returning to the pool and the camp; it would be a blight here for a while, until the natural elements absorbed and reclaimed what had been usurped for some time. Eventually the grass would grow back, the trees would right themselves, the pool would support frogs and insects, maybe eventually fish.

The day after its cleansing, however, I was still searching carefully about much of the same refuse, the same horrid smells, though I took more care to use branches and longer tools to dig around, trying to keep my equipment and clothing clean as possible. The only thing I had not cleaned—but instead wrapped in cloth and put on Gavin's mare with Kurn's sword—was Gaelan's dagger. The earlier suggestion of possibly detecting some lingering memory on it still stayed with me.

Gavin helped me search, able to sense the few spots that had a magical aura, but it was all very weak and nothing we found was anything even Mourn wanted to collect out of the mess. The mercenary mostly stood to the side and watched around us; I got the feeling he was standing guard and aware of much more in the forest than the mere rustling we were doing.

In the end, I found nothing of Gaelan besides that dagger.

"No armor, no pouches, no belt, no boots," I muttered, shaking my head. "Yet there is a great deal of other bloody clothing and tools and bones here. I can see that they ate bodies, but no sign of her."

Gavin nodded. "It does seem strange. Perhaps she still lives somewhere, or died far from here, not as a victim of this cult."

I would have preferred either of those possibilities, to be honest.

"Are you ready to leave, then?" Mourn asked.

Some part of me didn't want to. What if she was injured somewhere near here, and I had only to find her? What if leaving now doomed her to become a skeleton of scattered bones in a Surface forest? She had made it this far or her dagger would not have been here...

"Which direction did you come from, Mourn?" I asked him, and he tilted his head.

"I tracked your group."

"That is no answer. You left Brom's Inn earlier than we did. Which direction? Were you waiting for us to catch up?"

"I had other business."

"But you were in this area before we were?"

Mourn paused, watching me. "You want to ask me a question, Sirana. Just ask."

"Could you have sensed or smelled another Drow, other than me? Or anything odd? Is there a place we should check again before we leave?"

The half-blood made an odd ticking sound in the back of his throat as he thought about it, looking around the forest and listening to the intermittent quiet.

"No. I think we should leave for Augran and make haste. I will have contacts waiting for us, and soon as we can reach the city, the sooner others can be out searching for your third Sister. You stand a far greater chance of locating her with multiple sets of eyes and ears covering a greater distance than the three of us can while standing in this forest."

Jael.

For a second, it almost seemed I remembered what she smelled like.

*You must still be alive. You must.*

*****

I rode behind Gavin on his mare once again, trying to conserve my energy so I did not have to eat through my stores, that I might have enough to reach the lake without too much extra hunting and gathering. Mourn walked tirelessly beside and slightly in front of us, glancing at the undead mount now and then. Gavin was right about her; she was entirely indifferent to the horse-eating predator sharing the path, although it was clear to me that the dragonblood did not consider her to be food at all.

The Sun would set before too long and we had traveled quietly at first, lost in our thoughts, and Gavin almost seemed to be meditating while riding. I did notice that Gavin must have bathed at the river when both Mourn and I were gone; we never saw him do so, but I could smell the difference, even in his garments.

I noticed now that, even clean, his body temperature was not natural, not like it had been before riding on his horse before his resurrection. He wasn't cold or stiff like a corpse, but I was the one giving out the most heat between us, easily. Likewise his mare did not seem so hot and sweaty beneath my ass as before, though the sheer mass of the beast still allowed basic insulation.

I found myself practicing, suppressing my aura and letting it rise again, like I had before, the routine of the first few weeks of traveling with Gavin at the back of the group returning. Except there was no group ahead of us; there was just Mourn walking peacefully beside us.

Did I really not have to be prepared for fights and arguments at each dawn and dusk? Could we pool our knowledge and find water and food and shelter without bickering? We could focus on our surroundings and not be caught unaware, as we had been with the Warpstone cult?

I breathed out, noticing how the shadows had gotten much longer and my eyes felt less strain. Gavin whispered quietly now and then, and I recognized the "root" Draconic words in what he was saying, as did Mourn, who turned his ears now and then but otherwise did not disturb him. Gavin was adjusting the words, however, to whatever inner logic best suited his own talent.

Twilight was upon us, the night world clear to me and the Moons not yet risen, when I felt a subtle pulse of energy come from my grey mage, and Gavin breathed in suddenly. I felt him tip slightly to one side.

I caught him, wrapping my arms strongly about his middle and holding him to his horse. He was not normally comfortable with such close contact from anyone, but he was well distracted by something else this time.

"Good catch," Mourn commented to me.

"Did it work?" I asked Gavin. "What do you see?"

"E...extraordinary," was all he said at first. He turned his head well around in different directions, focusing near and far, and I could tell he was not faking. He was not blind or straining to see dull grey shapes in blackness.

Mourn smiled and said nothing, and I followed suit, letting Gavin adjust and slowly releasing my grip on him when he seemed to have his balance back.

"And...this is what you see every night?" the necromancer muttered thoughtfully.

"What is it you see?" I asked with a smile, curious how a Human would describe it.

Gavin thought about it. "Different...spectrums. Perhaps energy? No colors as I know them, but the infinite densities outline everything in solid lines; rocks, trees, moving things. I see now why you thought I might be able to navigate by life auras. I can see well, though not as far as in natural light. Interesting."

"Excellent," Mourn said. "This will help us. Just practice your endurance now. Well done, mage."

Gavin didn't acknowledge that directly; I would have said that he gave the half-blood a quick, odd glance. I figured he was not used to praise from other males; he was only used to being beaten or insulted by them.

"What may we expect in this next leg of our journey?" Gavin asked.

The mercenary nodded, accepting or perhaps expecting that. "We can reach the shore of the Great Lake before dawn if we do not stop. There is a supply port, a common stop going between Yong-ch'chai and Yong-wen. We will be able to slip aboard a ship there to take us swiftly southeast."

"Yong-wen," Gavin repeated, tasting the word. It was clearly foreign to him. "That is Yungian. Far to the North."

Mourn grunted. "Yong-ch'chai is on the other side of the Great Lake. Yong-wen is their enclave within Augran. The Guild has many contacts there."

I stayed quiet and listened acutely.

"When did that happen?" Gavin asked. "I only recall reading a mention of a strange people on the North Lake. Closed and defensive, horsemen and fisherman and warriors, with strange weapons well beyond sword and dagger."

I gestured at the sliders that Mourn carried on his back. "Like those?"

Mourn smiled widely enough to show nearly all his teeth as he glanced back at us. "They first saw these weapons with me, though they may have mimicked them. These are older than Yun-gar. But to answer your question, Deathwalker, Yong-wen 'happened' around three centuries ago. They are closed off within the metropolis, shrewd businessmen, building wealth to send back to their people north. They are superstitious, but they will be more open to our presence than many places in the city."

"Why?" I asked.

Mourn took another "tasting" breath and answered simply, "They revere dragon spirits."

Huh.

"Three centuries ago..." Gavin muttered. "Within the time you've been on the surface. Did you encourage the trade to happen, Mourn?"

"Perhaps. There were many factors."

"But it was good for the Guild," I guessed, and he did nod.

It did somehow imply that Mourn and Cris-ri-phon had avoided each other possibly by chance, at least at first, simply being a remote distance from each other—North and South. I resolved to watch and listen carefully to everything Mourn did from here. He would be using paths that he had used before in his past to get around in this world, perhaps ones that he had forged himself where there had been none. It would be a wealth of knowledge, more than any from my City had.

"How did you first become aware of the Archmage?" I asked him, but he shook his head.

"I think, perhaps, we might discuss what is good for the Guild in my helping you achieve your goal. I have been waiting for you to open the barter with an offer."

"You want to do this," I replied a bit testily. "You want the church to fall, so we'll come to an agreement sooner or later. I personally do not care to barter when I'm on the back of a horse looking at my potential dealer's back."

He grunted again. "Fair. But is it that you do not know what to offer me, Baenar? Do you feel you have little to offer of similar wealth to the dragon's marc you gave me to fight the cult for you?"

That was true enough. And if he called that platinum piece a "dragon's marc," then what else would have the same value to one such as him?

"The Archmage gave me that coin," I said. "I came up with very little in riches. Originally, we were to use that coin with an illusion potion he made to get me into Manalar as a wealthy noblewoman." I gasped. "Oh, Gavin! The map and times we got from Jacob! They were on Kurn's horse—"

"A bit soiled, but salvageable, Sirana. I got them."

I grinned broadly in relief. Jaunda definitely would have beaten me for such a stupid oversight. What was wrong with my memory these days?

"Map and times?" Mourn asked, allowing the tangent in discussion.

"And sentry passwords," Gavin said. "From the Witch Hunter we interrogated."

Mourn grunted, but I added in quickly before he could ask for it for free: "Do those have worth to the Guild in our barter?"

"They do, but only in a temporary sense. Such information does not have a long shelf life, it would have to be used quickly. But you have an illusion potion, Sirana?"

"To make me look Human for half a day, and strong enough that few mages would be able to see through it."

"That is good to know. And the Archmage gave you the Drake."

"Yes. How old is it?"

"Older than I have been on the Surface, but that is only because I can taste it in the metal from when it was last forged. It is in good shape, so I expect it to have been secured undisturbed for some time. I do not recognize the script, but I cannot read all scripts of all the current peoples, so that means little."

"You 'taste' metal?" Gavin spoke up.

Mourn nodded, demonstrating with a flick of his light purple tongue through his teeth. I was startled by the length, having only seen it from behind his teeth before. It was a bit like a serpent, extending past his chin, although it was not forked like one.

"That must come in useful for hoarding," the apprentice said with both amusement and consideration. "Do you have a store somewhere of your earnings as a mercenary?"

The half-blood chuckled low. "The wiser ones do. I remember the unique taste of every piece I have ever collected, Deathwalker. Remember that."

We both got what he meant. If that was true, then stealing from him would be a fool's goal. Perhaps Mourn would even stop by to drop the rings, jewels, coins, and Rithal's axe that he had collected on this trip. His store had to be somewhere central to his work with his bounties and the Guild...so my first thought was that it would be near or within Augran itself.

I thought more about what of value I might be able to offer Mourn that I was willing to impart to him. Not my sapphire; never. Nor any of my own tools or weapons, or Callitro's ring; I needed them all, as they had seen me through the wilderness thus far. I didn't have much else that was extra.

It left me with knowledge about the Drow City, about the Valsharess and the Red Sisters, about Lolth and the Priestesses, maybe information on the history of Cris-ri-phon and Innathi...but then I would have to tell him much more about Soul Drinker. I didn't really want to. I feared what he would do with it.

This also left sex.

The conversation with Rausery atop the mountain about using sex for barter returned to me, and how she warned against it with quick-changing Human populations. She had suggested that if I felt in a position to try, of treating my pussy as a diamond to a dwarf and negotiate with it as such. Certainly I had kept it out of Kurn's reach when he would have simply taken it.

Cris had taken more than I had given for any exchange of knowledge, or even for Soul Drinker, which I believed he would have given me regardless because the dagger had called to me. Once I had stepped into the sorcerer's quarters, there had not been a lot else I could do except submit in an interesting way, and try to get something for it. I had even enjoyed most of it...up until the end when he made me try to forget that he wanted my womb.

That had been another diamond Cris would have taken out of my hands by force, had it been an option. I had Auslan and his visions to thank for saving me that complication.

Mourn had indeed looked at me nude in the river in a way that Gavin never did. Yet he had lifted himself off me when I told him to, after he had caught me falling, and he had cradled me, both of us entirely naked after he had tackled me, preparing to free me from the geas. I remembered the heat of his body without clothes, but he had just lifted me and set me down by the fire. I did not even remember a lingering caress or a squeeze.

His self-restraint was unlike anything I was used to seeing in powerful males, or in any male who wanted to couple at all. Perhaps he merely admired beauty in general—and I was a more familiar beauty to him from his youth—but he did not want to mount me.

Maybe my dark purple pussy was not a diamond to barter with a dragon.

I sighed to myself, finding myself drawn back to the last dream I'd had of Shyntre and Auslan, the arousal of see them both naked at the same time; yet they had never undressed me at all, only touched me through my uniform and kissed my face. I'd cum in that reverie, as had they, spurting their mixed seed across my leathers. It had felt real enough, even down to hearing the droplets as they landed just before I awoke...yet I knew it was still just a dream. Why would it happen that way in the waking world? Why would two males serve me so gently, voluntarily, when I had not asked them to?

And why was it that now, when I thought about that dream and about Gaelan's dagger, did I feel that heavier weight on my shoulders, and I felt so...alone?

I watched Mourn walk in the dark, along the road and beside the mare, and as the shadows beneath the Moons became more apparent.

Half-breeds often did not fit in either family from which they were made, though the only half-breeds I knew from experience were the Draegloth, and even they had brothers. They had at least seen and spoken to more of their own kind, all kept inside the Sanctuary. Sometimes they even were allowed to impregnate a Noble for their mother, or they could all share and mount on the same Drow female...

Remembering Jael's rage clearly during her trials and unwillingly switching out the Draegloth for Witch Hunters, I shook my head almost violently. The suddenness of my heart as it sped up and pounded in my chest surprised me, because it wasn't excitement or bloodlust, or any kind of lust.

It was fear. And a similar anger, a denial, as when Cris had taken me that last time.

I quickly breathed to slow it down, to control it, even as I understood where it had come from. I didn't want them to have her, to hurt her. Discovering whether she was trained enough or had the wit and determination to survive was not what I wanted to see...she would be greatly changed, no matter what, perhaps beyond what I could reach. No one survived any trauma without drastic change.

That might even be the only way that some Drow changed at all.

I had to find Jael in time, and that meant I had to make some kind of bargain with this mercenary of Drow blood. I did not imagine that Mourn had any brothers or sisters like him that he knew, he was alone on this Surface world; and his sire meant more to him in his magic than the Drow did. It was how he understood his "Words," and perhaps his world.

Until I understood better how he lived with his Drow blood, I wouldn't know how to make that contract with him.

*****

I could smell the Great Lake well before we saw it by dimming Moonlight; it was cool and fresh, though the shore contained undercurrents of plant and animal and the usual decomposition of living creatures. Mourn led us off-road before we could meet any natives and we circled around to the water still well into the pre-dawn darkness.

Gavin complained of a headache in maintaining his new night vision only when it became very bad, and I could see that he regretted getting so close to a settlement while in pain. I volunteered to get off the mare and lead her the last small way, choosing the closest path to the dragonblood while imagining how it might look to a light-sight creature. I was not without practice by now, and I let Gavin rest without comment. I think he was glad to be without the teasing for once, and I was more focused on our surroundings.