Surfacing Ch. 15

"As always," he said. "We'll send back what we see; you respond accordingly. Goal is still to make it within half a night's jog to Manalar by sundown."

The Pale Elf nodded. "The weather is cooperating, but it will still be a hard ride. Some of the horses might go down and that may slow us."

"We won't be keeping them even should they make it. I may be able to pick up one or two horseless Guild if necessary, but not more than that."

In the briefing a few minutes later, the Guild members only needed one aborted demonstration on how one horse responded to Mourn's scent and proximity to be convinced of his plan. The gelding about lost his mind, rearing and screaming, jerking the horse-tender from his feet while three Men from Vim grabbed for the reins, halter, and saddle with astonishing speed for Humans, hauling the horse back underground as soon as possible.

"Any questions why we do it my way?" Mourn asked the rest of us.

There were none. I couldn't wait to mount the dragonblood again.

*****

Mourn ripped up turf behind him as he galloped full out, boosted by his To'vah magic. Without the frequent turning down streets and alleys, and without the buildings themselves, the wind literally whistled in my ears and I had to close my eyes more often as not only the Sun became brighter but the air dried them out horribly. Gavin's charms were both tucked in a pouch for safe keeping, as there was no way I would leave it out to be battered by the elements as I was.

I did not have the opportunity to become overheated before the air whipped the sweat from my skin, but I did have to be mindful to drink now and then as it was easy to forget how much moisture I was losing. During one rest stop, I succumbed to this new, strange kind of Surface stress on my eyes and wrapped them tight before mounting up again.

The scents were pushed into my nose even on an exhale, concentrated and lush when I breathed in, and I wondered at the many layered whiffs of growth, decay, and living animal that I could not identify because we were moving too fast for me to explore it. It created a collectively whole scent that was the equivalent of a single, detailed image woven into a tapestry: this was the Prairie. I felt I would know it instantly even if I was blind.

The broad rise in the landscape was subtle, ignoring the immediate hills going up and down, and maybe only possible to detect at this speed, I thought. I possessed old habits in the Underdark of being ever aware of the ground rising under my feet, but without a ceiling above me, it wasn't as easy to use. I might not have noticed the cumulative effect except for how quickly Mourn propelled us forward.

We had to stop twice to tend to bodily needs, but it almost felt disorienting standing still, and at first out of my periphery when I removed the blind wrap, it still seemed the earth tilted now and then. My skin tingled from the abrupt stop of the wind blasting my face, and the base of my braid had a pretty nice tangle nest forming. Any larger animals stayed away from Mourn, and I could see nothing but gold and green wilderness around us, as we were staying far away ourselves from any known Man-made path.

As I ate during the second stop, I watched Mourn contemplate one of the small pearls in his palm, and after a short time, he merely nodded, putting it away.

"All is well so far," he said. "No encounters and they are making good time. Our Deathwalker and his mare are making the other mounts a little nervous but he is suppressing both their auras. Lung are staying near him at all times."

"I'm sure he's enjoying that," I said, my mouth pulling into a grin.

"This will not work without him."

"I know that well. I picked him out before you did." I took a swing of water, indicating his pearl just as he put it away. "That's how you told Krithannia to start looking for Jael before we got to Augran."

"It would make sense."

"How did that conversation go?"

"She was very interested. She wants as broad a view as possible on all happening around us. Giving her a direction often brings faster results."

"She didn't think you were favoring your own race over her?"

"I did not ask, and those are her thoughts. If she has a concern, she knows to broach it to me directly. I might recommend the same for you, after your display of jealousy this morning."

I chuckled, feeling no regret whatsoever for that. It had been hilarious. "There's a difference between jealousy and testing a boundary, Mourn. Not to mention a little healthy competitive banter."

"You might be surprised if Krithannia accepts a challenge, Baenar. She chooses her engagements well and has learned meditative focus."

I shrugged. "Then I would look forward to her trying. All she told me of Noldor was that they tend to do nothing."

"Which is why she left."

"And her weapons are nothing out of the ordinary."

"They need not be to be effective."

True.

"Is she hiding anything? Keeping anything back?"

"I will tell you if I may speak to her openly about what's on your belt."

"Ha. Haven't you already?"

He smiled. "No. Though I am certain she senses your guardians as much as the relic. Come, we burn our light. Time to leave."

On the whole, we climbed higher than we dropped back down; the air got ever so thinner as the Sun rose almost to its zenith above my black cloaked body, and Mourn's constant effort against the ever-present downward force was evident in the way his breath rolled into my ears. I couldn't see them, but knew that we were approaching the low mountains around Manalar.

It was only midday. No wonder Mourn thought he could go back and get a few Guild members if they should lose their horse.

I heard the snap of brush and downed branches as my mount's motions evaded more obstacles more abruptly and frequently—tree trunks and stones, by the smell of it—and I felt the Sun was blocked by branches above us. It smelled wonderfully cool. He slowed down enough for me to start to hear the song of birds again, and I inhaled to smell a new mix of leaves and undergrowth, different from the western mountains. Wetter, with more moss, mushrooms, and mulch.

Before I knew it, Mourn's claws gripped the ground and pulled us up a very steep incline—I heard talons scrape rocks and mud squish—and then we dove out of view of the Sun entirely, into blessed blackness. One furry creature—a small bear, maybe— was flushed from hiding and shot out of the cave, giving the ground to its new inhabitants without a struggle.

Nice. Now I just had to get my hands to release their grip...

My crotch and inner thighs were moist with shared sweat. Mourn's body was giving off so much heat I might have thought him ill with fever if not for the pure scent of exertion filling my nose. I plucked out my leathers wedged in my crotch and readjusted things as the hybrid morphed back into a biped. I watched as he turned to the cave's opening to roll a convenient, if heavy, boulder to block the entrance, and set some kind of ward.

It would have taken five or more Human Men to move it, even assuming they could dispel the protection, and I knew that the leverage to do so didn't exist on the outside. I imagined this place was also far off any road or path, rather like the den area he'd settled in near the river soon after we'd first met him, although that one hadn't really been secure, just remote.

This was secure, because it wasn't that remote from Manalar.

*How many of these dens do you have?* I signed when he finally turned my way. My eyes had adjusting to the darkness and closed stone entombing us. I felt myself relax.

*As many as I can find or make. They change with time. I rarely use the same one twice when in an area.*

*Will we scout about as promised after a break?*

"Yes."

I decided to set down my pack, remove my cloak and belt with weapons, getting comfortable since it was clear we were resting here. However, soon I realized the pause after his answer had been laden with an unspoken thought; he was still mulling it over as he removed his weapons, including his sliders, and then his entire harness, his spines flexing out briefly as if glad to be unrestrained. I blinked.

*What else is on your mind?*

He seemed to consider as he finally caught his breath from running, removing also his loose black pants, lifting his tail through and out of the hole in the back. My brows shot up and I inhaled deeply as a surprisingly inviting scent wafted my way.

"You're a hornier slit than I am," I said aloud because he wasn't looking at me. It was barely audible for a Human but plenty enough sound for a Drow.

He looked confused for just a slight moment, and I saw him reach as if to touch his scalp, and I remembered that he had literal horns just beginning to grow up through his black hair, arching back along his skull. Then he understood the context and smirked.

*May I ask assistance to comb out and plait my queue?* he signed.

I grew suspicious, even as I knew by now that a nice bone groomer was among his tools. It had fewer broken teeth than mine did by now. *Only if you comb out mine first.*

*Agreed.*

Watching him move fluidly, uninhibited by any stiff leather or pack or bundled cloak, and I did feel envy then. I removed my bracers easily enough, and it barely took anything to get Mourn to help me out of my leather armor. I removed my boots and stockings, wearing only my shirt and pants, and that was good enough to start, even if my crotch was still hot and not just from the ride.

The hybrid was gentle tugging the tangles out of my hair; he was well aware of his strength and didn't try to rip off my scalp. It was just a basic smoothing before I was satisfied, signed "enough," and quickly braided it up again. I turned to gesture for the comb, which he gave me before turning around and sitting, shifting his tail to the side, still entirely nude. His penis wasn't erect; the distal half of his tail coiled about lazily on the ground, and his scent was warm and relaxed.

Why did it feel as though I still didn't understand all his signals?

I had the chance to unwrap the very fuzzy queue, which had been rubbed into a wild fray beneath his harness, cloak, and me during the run. He had multiple black bands that were normally invisible, and I needed to tug those out and place them where I wouldn't lose them before I could unthread his long hair. It was so much longer than mine, if not as thick; it was practically a rope. Unfolding it fully, as it was looped back on itself a few times, it touched the ground and I could still coil it into a circle next to his ass with the spare length.

"Why so damned long?" I asked. "Isn't it impractical in your profession?"

"I was never to cut it when young," he answered. "Male fighters show their experience and obedience to the females by hair length. Cutting it by any length is a punishment reserved for a female commander."

I was silent as I was again trying to compare that to back home.

He huffed a short, ironic laugh. "I take it you have never been impressed by the length?"

"Uhm. Well, it is impressive, just in that you made the effort never to cut it. It takes care and maintenance, like a weapon. It is also quite a handle to get hold of in a wrestling match."

"Another reason for it. Females in my units all had short hair; they had nothing to prove but to each other, and grabbing hair was beneath a challenge between females. Though being hauled forward by my queue was not much of a problem once I grew so much larger."

"I can imagine. So why keep it three centuries after you left?"

Mourn shrugged slightly and did not answer then. "What was your standard?"

"There was none. Whatever suited us, really," I said. "Some wear it short, others long and bound up according to popular style, maybe whatever the First and Second Houses were doing, they would be copied. Males with long hair are usually merchants, wizards, or consorts, indicating they do not work out in the field. Male fighters or laborers tend to have shorter hair, exactly so it is not easy to grab, though their ears are just as effective to make them kneel."

Mourn grunted, pondering that just as I finished up loosening the last few snarls to where it could be plaited smooth again. I began doing so, dividing it into three pieces and beginning a tight weave at the nape of his neck. Muscles in his back tensed as if he was very surprised by this, but he remained still. It took a while before I could tie it off at the end.

"Females do not tend to do that," he said quietly.

"You didn't stop me." I handed part of the black hair-rope over his shoulder to show him. "Isn't it good enough?"

"It is very good. I doubt any of my former unit females had ever learned how."

I smiled proudly. "So now how do you loop it? Show me. The Yungians do it, too, don't they? Like Bohai."

"Yes, but this way, only in Yong-wen. It changes with the leaders in Yung-An."

He demonstrated the fold, which did seem very deliberate, very ritualistic, and I used the bands to get it back in place. Now it would ride his spine beneath his harness and he'd still be able to turn his head as much as needed. I also wondered how much he adjusted it with his shape shifting ability...

Mourn turned around then and gently touched my breast through my shirt. My tits still felt hot and heavy, the nipples very sensitive, but he wasn't rough in any way. He also felt for my pendant between my breasts, and I felt just the tiniest pulse of heat from the sapphire, as if the dragonblood had just fed it some magic.

"I have a proposal, Sirana. A chance to test another limit, should we need it in our battle to live through Manalar. You now know a link need not be made while coupling. What of you tried for an intended, focused one?"

So that was why he'd gotten naked.

"You mean...try to repeat what happened the first time?" I couldn't decide if I sounded dismayed or wary.

"Not exactly."

He massaged my breast a bit more through my shirt, and I didn't stop him. I thought that was telling, and wondered how long I'd delay.

"I would give you a very specific memory, but nothing else. You tell me if you see it, or anything else."

"While we fuck?"

"Unless you prefer pain as the trigger."

"Well, let me think, no, I'd rather fuck."

He exhaled a hiss, amused, as I shrugged and lobbed the comb to the side near his things before crossing my arms to pull off my shirt. Mourn showed his support for my choice by spreading both his palms and fingers out across my torso and exploring the skin, and flicking his tongue out to far enough to lash one turgid nipple almost like a tiny whip.

"Oo. Nice."

He did the other one without being told; there was no need to make it jealous.

It was only a matter of course from there to strip down until I wore only the sapphire, which was glowing softly as Mourn focused his aura. He had chosen a relatively flat bit of packed dirt in the den upon which to sit cross-legged, his tail curled around him, his spines having plenty of room to rise if need be. He invited me to sit in his lap, facing him.

His prick was getting hard already, and I hadn't done more than cop a quick feel we were changing around our positioning, which was soothing to my pride but didn't ease my nerves as I became aware of them.

The last time I'd done something like this was in a Noble House with a Draegloth and his unspoken efforts to bind me to him, learning my aura a little more every time we fucked, and got tied together. Bumps broke out over my skin as I thought about it; wasn't the point this time to try to link up again? This time with both of us knowing what was happening. Would that make it better, or were we about to fuck up our wits just before infiltrating Manalar...?

"Maybe this isn't a good idea," I said, stopping myself mid-crouch, having been about to crawl onto Mourn's lap. "What if we incapacitate ourselves? Maybe this is the wrong time—"

The hybrid reached out to take both my arms and tugged, encouraging me forward. He could have yanked me right forward, forced me into his lap, but that wasn't what he was doing. He was trying to get me over the hump with the momentum I already had before the doubt had struck.

"It is possible, Red Sister, but there will not be a 'right' time. You know how to accept and minimize risk to fulfill an objective, this is no different."

That worked well enough, along with his grip on my arms, to settle me the rest of the way in. My legs wrapped around his waist and my hands held his shoulders—probably a bit more tightly than necessary—and a hot, semi-erect penis squeezed between us. I wriggled some against it, almost unconsciously; maybe my female pride couldn't allow only half an erection to exist right next to my pouting netherlips.

I breathed out slowly; my heart was beating harder than it should have been at this point, and I floundered for a moment about what to think. The sex? The purpose? The danger? The battle scars on Mourn's chest?

Mourn cupped my ass with one hand as he shifted to get comfortable, and rubbed his palm up and down my outer thigh. "Look at me, Sirana."

I could do that; I was a bit annoyed with myself that he had needed to say it. This was a bit different; Kerse had always averted his gaze after only brief moments, even when we'd been sitting more or less like this.

Mourn wasn't hard to look at by comparison; proper, pointed ears and cheekbones, a lot less craggy, no bristles of bestial hair, no muzzle. The brow and horns, the fangs and eyes and patches of fine scales still made me think of a very large and intelligent hunter reptile, however.

"Have you hidden from this ever since it came into being?" he asked, and I flushed almost full-body hot hearing this.

Had I? Not with D'Shea there to guide me; but she was such a powerful mage, and my Elder. She was why I had made the attempt I had against her compulsion, and later with Jaunda, to protect my Lead from a lesser compulsion, which was still a long-term solution to a short-term problem. Just suppressed a memory for a while, and let it return on its own...

I had done that, hadn't I? It had worked. I'd done it because it was necessary, and I had to prove to D'Shea whether I could do it or not, and I didn't have the time for trial and error.

Kind of like right now.

It was, I thought, powerfully magical males that had been throwing me off on the Surface. Gavin's presence, I didn't know if that had any effect, to be sitting on the same horse touching him all day, every day for weeks. There was that strange incident after watching Kurn spurt onto a tree. And Cris had certainly caught me completely unaware; he'd battered me badly. Innathi and Soul Drinker weren't helping.

And it had been my negligent accident with Mourn.

Was I really that male-crazy, or had I just been taking their tempting power for granted all these years?

"You have done it before," the half-blood said now. "I can see it. At least once, you maintained control over your gift."

I nodded slowly. "But it's...grown since then."

"Or your awareness of it has."

"My overall awareness of many things has grown."

"Making it hard to focus," he supplied. "The more you see of the Surface, Baenar, the less you are certain of the limits."

"Maybe." I tightened my thighs around his waist and massaged his shoulders with my fingers; these were familiar, pleasurable, small things I could be doing. He hummed briefly in approval, his cock pulsing once as it grew a bit more.

"I have taught magic for many years, Sirana," he said, squeezing my ass again and running his other hand up and down my back. It felt good. "You are bonded with its rules, even if you transform the power to something else. I am not afraid of what you can do, only that you remain afraid of it for much longer."