Surfacing Ch. 34

"Can you break Wards, Your Highness?" Mourn asked his passenger.

"Of course!" she scoffed.

"Good. We're headed to your sister's private wing."

She growled. "I look forward to dismantling it piece by piece."

********

Fortunately, I saw plenty of evidence of Elder D'Shea's own rampage to take down anything the Valsharess had left which was holding her back. Some stone and fiberstalk stands and tables had been shifted from their place or toppled over entirely; spider symbols and incense boxes spilled over skewed, circular rugs and plush, long carpets. Certain tapestries were scorched in spots and several points of heatless torchers were out. Only when we nearly took a wrong turn and Jael sensed a Ward in front of her nose did we discover any obstacles, and we certainly didn't have to deal with that one.

"She's worn herself out," Mourn pondered—aloud for our benefit—as he probably spied the same scoring and scorches at various points along the walls and protecting the stairwells that I was. "That's why the final door is giving her trouble."

"Well, no one knows if there's a transport circle except maybe the wizard in that room," Jael panted. "She had to go the long way! Like us!"

We came out of the final stairwell and tried to pinpoint our direction.

"Elder!" I called. Even though Mourn winced by long habit, it was still the fastest way to get our bearings.

"Sirana!"

I heard the voice to our left, hidden down an unlit hallway. It had been Jaunda who called out instead, but it worked.

*Uh-oh.*

My under-appreciated dark vision made out three blobs that *could* be bodies—only one of them standing—but they were just out of range to be sure by that quick glance. Mourn's tongue confirmed it much more quickly, and at his sign, Jael cast a simpler spell to light some of those extinguished torches again, and at least we could see farther down the way.

"Gaelan?!"

She lifted her head, but both hands were pressed to it. "Not so loud. I'm here." She exhaled. "I told her that wasn't going to work."

"You an' me both," Jaunda grumbled, checking D'Shea's pulse again as she kneeled beside her. "She'll be up again soon, give it a flick."

"How do you know?" Jael asked as Mourn carefully set Innathi to her feet. "She looks out deep."

Jaunda smirked. "Just gave her my healing potion. Wait for it."

"What happened to the lights?" I asked.

"Magic surge flared them out," Gaelan answered, now rubbing her temple and reaching for one of her own potions. "We...tried to give it one big push. Didn't work, don't know how Jaunda's still standing..."

The Lead chuckled. "I paced myself, Gaelan. Like always." She looked at me. "How you doing, little mata? Hungry?"

Goddess damn it, now that she mentioned it... I reached for my dwindling reserves but Gaelan got up and handed me some of hers.

"Mata?" Innathi asked.

Jaunda shrugged, folding her arms and sizing up the would-be queen with a direct stare. "Nickname. Matron. Usually the first-time mothers."

The other lifted her chin and still spoke with her accent. "I see. And you are?"

The Lead twisted her mouth in thought. "At this point? D'Shea bodyguard. Auranka's thorn in her ass." She paused, glancing at me briefly. "Sirana's fuck-friend, too, I guess, if you need something closer to home."

While I grasped that Jaunda was saying she wasn't presuming authority over me—and I stopped chewing for a moment in amazement—that still caused Innathi's mouth to twitch.

"But you are female."

Jaunda raised one surprised brow at her, reached down and cupped her crotch. "Yep. I noticed. I'm guessing you never sucked another set of swollen netherlips, your majesty?"

"Wh....No," Innathi answered directly rather than comment on the crudity. "I have not."

The warrior nodded once. "A lot of us down here do. Usually doesn't warrant comment."

Innathi didn't like the Lead's tone or implied rebuke, but she turned and looked at me as if to confirm. I was just finishing up a big bite of my pressed bar; I couldn't speak right then. If she had looked a moment sooner, she might've seen Jael and Mourn share significant smirk.

"She doesn't believe me, Sirana," Jaunda said with a suggestive grin. Then she glanced down at her Elder, who still wasn't awake. "I guess it's gonna take two flicks."

I swallowed my last bite and something about Jaunda's expression reminded me of a time when I thought I knew what I'd be doing with my Red Sister status. Eventually. And I'd wanted Jaunda to be at my back when I did. Probably still fucking my asshole on occasion.

*Two flicks, hm?*

As in flicks to the ear. Playful or painful.

My Lead picked up on my thought of "another time" then, I was almost sure of it. Her grin dropped and she looked interested, her gaze intent and hungry all of a sudden. Speaking of swollen netherlips...

*One moment to eat. A second to enjoy living beyond the food...*

I carefully stepped around D'Shea and Jaunda already had her arms open, taking my upper arm and waist and drawing me close, until my belly was pressed against her belt.

*Not so hard, this time,* I suggested.

She smirked, lips very close to mine. *If you mean the Feldeu, there's nothing I can do about that when your hole is squeezing and fluttering around it.*

It was a very brief, very hot, and very intense shared memory. It not only had really happened but both of us remembered it with startling similarity, so it hit us like a cave-in as soon as I linked us. We both shuddered in the aftermath. I kissed her first, demonstrating more control than she had outside the Tower, teasing her until I gently chewed on her upper lip and she moaned appreciatively, reaching to cup my crotch down beneath my belly as she slowly came down.

"Shit, that's not fair," she chuckled as I let go of her lip. "Pants aren't even off. Feels like you really just came...an' me, too."

"Short cut," I murmured.

She guffawed. "Roen-shit. Still like the old way. Lots messier."

"Yeah, but...time and place..."

"I know, I gotcha—"

Then she paused, her eyes widening; she was still holding me close and staring at my eyes as I looked back, by accident thinking about the last time I witnessed a bad time and place for the "messy" sex. I was surprised that the link hadn't dropped yet but she was unafraid—or maybe just telling herself that—and she cursed again.

"Thena and Suna?"

I grimaced a bit. "Fucking on duty. The only two Red Sisters we've killed so far, Jaunda, I promise."

She narrowed her eyes at me as if she was thinking hard about that; her hands slowly slid down my side and I had to step back then as D'Shea finally stirred and Innathi spoke up.

"Do I suppose the males 'down here' *embrace* each other so as well?" she asked with a telling wrinkle to her nose.

"They can if they fuckin' want," Jaunda answered first, quickly growing irritable. "I'm sure not gonna stop 'em, though some females like you do."

"Like me?" Innathi queried wryly, glancing at Mourn with some suspicion, as if she wanted to ask right here and now if he fucked other males, too. He was impossible to read right then.

Funny enough, I never had actually asked him that question, either; I only got the impression he wasn't interested. Or—like Jael and me—had been interested in very, very few. However Mourn certainly hadn't been threatened by Bohai or Vesram or Auslan being in the same room touching me.

"If it is a Matron's right to choose mates for her sons," Innathi said to Jaunda, "then yes, I can see some 'like me' having issue with it."

"That's a big 'if,'" Jael interjected, her arms crossed. "I think it's fine. Few times I've seen it, it's kind of hot."

Innathi looked at her. "Easy to say with no devoted male at your side, child. What if you had to watch him prefer his own sex to you and waste his mating energies pursuing a distraction?"

"That could happen whether male or female," Jael retorted, and Innathi shook her head firmly.

"I'd be displeased if it were my consort, and it is always more complicated with status. It is not advisable for a queen to share lovers so readily. For you and your status, of course, I understand it would not matter."

Jael glared outright and I signed a "don't slap her!" gesture with an expression of exaggerated horror—right then it struck her as funny and she cracked a grin. She threw up her hands. "Fuck status. It constantly pinches our tits until they're so inflated we've all got fake cleavage, if you ask anybody in my House."

"What the fuck are you all arguing about...?" D'Shea growled from the ground, getting to her feet next to Jaunda and me, holding her head as she focused her copper eyes. "Why are you all standing around outside this door?"

"Waiting for you, Elder," I said. "Welcome back."

D'Shea turned to say something to me—her mouth open and everything—then though better of it and dropped it. "I need your help opening this door. This is where I last saw Phaelous."

The simple humility was sobering for just about everyone. Mourn nodded.

"You have our help, Elder," he said. "Although do you and I agree that Sirana must be our look-out? She cannot be involved in breaking the Ward."

"We are agreed," D'Shea answered without hesitation.

"And you maybe shouldn't try again, Elder," Gaelan said. "You're pregnant, too."

The sorceress exhaled in frustration, rubbing her eyes. "The risk is low through the first quarter year. We do not have Morix's power to draw on. I must try. Phaelous is my wizard, and he may advise us further now that the Valsharess is dead and cannot remove it Herself."

Jaunda tilted her head a bit, like she was surprised to hear a sentence like that spoken so calm and ordinary from her Elder. She looked at me for confirmation, and I nodded.

"You were assuming," I said to D'Shea.

"I can still read you well enough, novice," she replied, still cool to my dismay. "Let us open this door."

"Allow me, Elder," Innathi offered, striding forward with hips rolling. "I know my sister's power. I have much of my own even without Morix, and I can spare your unborn the stress."

D'Shea narrowed her eyes in suspicion, looking to the Dragonblood.

"She has the magic, Elder," he said. "And I have asked her to help retrieve the Headmaster."

It was likely her awareness of time continuing its untamable flow that my Elder agreed, with assurance from Jaunda and Gaelan that they would stand in her stead. As well, D'Shea couldn't quite hide from me that she was just as pleased with being able to observe the dagger queen in action and be ready the very instant anything changed for the worse.

As Jael and Mourn joined with Innathi, Gaelan, an Jaunda to break this powerful Ward, D'Shea turned her eyes on me, staring at me, daring me to form a mindlink.

Well. As long as she was inviting.

*Elder, I apologize for what I saw,* I thought. *I was not trying to force you to do anything, but given what I felt, I am very glad it was you who provided the opportunity for Rausery to kill the Prime.*

She considered my thoughts, the bare essence of them. She didn't necessarily accept them right then, but she considered them.

*Too many have used me like that, Sirana,* she thought, and I tasted the magma in her anger. *In essence, if not in form. I have never had my own life. My own choices.*

*Then you feel more empathy with the males than any other female down here.* I reached out to take hold of her fingers, lightly, but it strengthened the connection and she did not pull away. *And me. Although I may have been luckier than you three.*

I sensed the smirk in D'Shea's thoughts. *Well. Observing Juarinia's treatment of you from time to time, Sirana, perhaps you were not so lucky. You did escape early, though.*

*I did.*

She was intrigued that there was only calm peace in her bringing that memory up to me, and the suggestion that she had watched and did nothing to interfere. I was a bit surprised myself that I felt no shame or lingering anger about that. Not right now, anyway; it wouldn't help.

*And all of us can escape, Elder.*

D'Shea's mouth hardened. *Not with this 'queen' here. She is just like her sister. Worse, perhaps.*

*We need to get Morix's collar off. Then we can deal with her.*

*'Deal' with her? Your thought is unclear. Do you mean to kill her, Sirana? Tell me now.*

*Yes, but—*

*What 'but' could there be?*

*You can't interfere in this unless Morix is dead. Promise me. If he's alive, leave it to him.*

*You trust him this much,* D'Shea thought.

*I know him, Elder.*

*For half a year?*

*It feels longer when I see memories and understand motives.*

*You understand? Well enough to rely on a single, powerful male to be the sole barrier to her taking us over? It looks to me that you follow him blindly.*

*Not blind, and I don't follow,* I said, just keeping calm. *We walk together.*

I sensed an ache, as if she might've wanted that but hadn't realized it until now.

*What is he to you?* she asked.

*My friend,* I said easily, and thought on it. *My son's protector. My lover. Jael's mage match. More, even. I could go on. I've seen more traveling the Surface with him than Rausery ever did on her own. It's thanks to him, and the one who made the marrowcaster for me.*

*Yes, quite...interesting. That item. We live past this, you shall tell me about this death mage who 'hears' a grey maiden.*

I smiled, letting her feel my amusement as her own curiosity about my travels and her desire to know more grew in spite of herself.

*I've learned so much, Elder. Morix's one reason I had the strength to return and challenge the Valsharess and Lolth's strongest influences. You could even say we're winning.*

D'Shea didn't return a clear thought at first; she was careful as she considered. *You haven't won yet, Sirana. Do not dare believe it will get easier that it has been to purge an engrained goddess from her lair.*

*That's why we need your help.*

*Help me to help Phaelous, and I will.*

*That's the plan.*

Innathi cried out in something approaching ecstasy then, prompting me to drop the link as gently as possible as the Ward shuddered at last, preparing to break. D'Shea stepped in front of me as if to absorb any backlash and I wrapped my arms around her from behind. It surprised her but it made it easier to share the protection between us, especially as I placed my hands over her belly, calling a very subtle psionic shield. Just in case.

"Down!" Jaunda gasped, staggering but looking toward D'Shea. "It's down."

And none of them had gone down with it.

"It's strange," Gaelan whispered, swiping sweat from her brow. "I-I don't know if the Valsharess set this one."

"It clearly tasted of Abyss," Innathi stated, spitting onto the floor. "Of course she did."

Mourn's tail was moving constantly as his tongue flicked out before he breathed in as I'd seen him do so many times before. His magic may be severely blunted, his aura's connections weakened, but he could always rely on that tongue.

"No," he rumbled. "I smell her now."

"Auranka," D'Shea blurted, easily catching up to him as she surged forward out of my arms and bodily shoved Jaunda and Innathi out of the way of the door.

"Elder, be careful!" Gaelan cried, but D'Shea already had the door in motion.

As it slid to one side, both the sorceress's hands flared to life, illuminating the tiny room as well as readying her for an attack. From what I could see craning to see in, it looked empty.

"No," my Elder whispered, turning around slowly, scanning every block in the wall, not finding what she sought.

Mourn had entered and scanned the room as I squeezed my way in past the others. We weren't sure what to do.

"Here," Mourn indicated the hole of broken stone.

D'Shea nodded numbly. "There was a chain bolted there. It's been torn out."

"And here." He indicated a few small spots of a black-tinged, yellow substance, very fresh. From the look on his face, also very smelly. "Auranka was injured by one of the shadows. They described something like this."

"I've never seen her bleed," D'Shea replied, voice level but almost dead. "I can't confirm it either way."

"But he's still alive, Elder," Gaelan said. Earnestly, taking her shoulder. "Phaelous is alive, or you'd know that he wasn't."

"Not necessarily," she said. "The collar may suppress even that."

Gaelan frowned in concern, turning to the practical for her Elder's sake. "Where would she take him?"

"Probably the pit," Jaunda suggested. "That's where she'd go to lick her wounds."

"The pit's outside the City limits," Gaelan replied. "That's a long way and a lot of time wasted if we're wrong."

The Lead returned gazes with her former subordinate. "So take me with you, shadow-leaper. I can confirm it before we even get too close. Be half a mark before we're back, tops. The rest can gather any shit they need and grab the pretty boy, maybe even look for Shyntre."

Gaelan looked at me and I nodded, while Jaunda looked at D'Shea, and she nodded.

"Do it, Red Sisters," the Elder said.

She sounded like she struggled to keep any hint of hope out of her voie, lest it be used against her by a fickle Goddess.

**********

He had expected this for a very long time. His Queen had made him wait for a very long time.

It was also probable that She had protected him for a very long time.

Now his Queen was dead.

Even if he had not felt it through the collar—as if someone had sliced and removed a portion of the heart in his chest using a blade glowing white and fresh from a blacksmith's forge—Phaelous would still have known that the Valsharess was dead solely by the differences in Auranka's behavior. The two together merely made it a certainty.

The Drider Keeper had been dragging him for a long distance now, never slowing, never allowing him to gain his feet. She held him tightly both by the chain that once held him to the wall and his long, golden braid. The distraction of new bruises and abrasions were a constant all over his body; he was still naked. Varessa was wearing his clothes, or so he presumed.

He knew she remained alive because his damaged, seeping heart continued to beat.

*Forgive me,* he prayed, though each time he thought this the one he imagined speaking to changed; Morix, Sirana, Shyntre, Varessa....others.

He could have warned Morix about the aura-suppression collars his queen was creating as easily as he had warned him about what would happen if Auranka got her hands on both Shyntre and Sirana, or why the guardian spiders were important. But he hadn't. His negotiation with his Valsharess to trade places with Varessa would not have worked had he betrayed that secret. The Dragonchild in exchange for the sorceress of his heart.

Now Phaelous knew using such an item against Lethrix's offspring had not saved the Valsharess regardless, but the Headmaster had not really expected it to. Nor was it what he had wanted. He had only wanted Varessa to be freed, no matter what. If Sirana and Varessa could team up, as they had once done to overcome Wilsirathon...

Ah, but he had to wonder who would fight harder to claim Sirana's psionics now: his passionate sorceress, or his own equally passionate son—so much like his mother yet also the one might not be recognizable if he followed the path of their late Queen.

Phaelous did not know who deserved his regret and humility more, but after his last surviving child and the mother of that child, the Headmaster prayed forgiveness from one who would never give it, nor should she.

He had changed her entire life in one night. Regardless if he had thought he had not had the choice—that he was serving the Valsharess and their Goddess, that he was under compulsion just like the rest of them—the young wizard he had been still concentrated and focused, he still used his magic to transform and condemn a female Drow who'd never really done anything to hurt him.