Warlock Ch. 10

John and his girls are the run and out in the wilds, following a half-savage young woman touched by the saints and with no idea of what she truly wants from him. There's no telling what they might find... or if they'll be able to tell anyone they found it.

True to Jennaca's word, they set up camp in the forest that night. Two plains rats roasted over the fire. They looked more like giant squirrels than rats. Sasha had scared them away from their burrow and Jennaca felled two of them with her short bow while Sasha snatched the third up in her powerful jaws. There wasn't anything left of the third one to cook.

John was sweating and sore from Artesia beating him soundly for the past hour. He settled down next to the fire where Corsa was tending the meat. "I haven't felt this beat in... well, I guess since last night."

Corse turned to look at him. His demon-sight helped him see her cheeks flush a little before she turned to face him and held up her hands. She wiggled her fingers and then made an up and down motion with her palms open and out.

John frowned until she moved one hand to her forearm and started squeezing and rubbing it. "Oh, another one of your rubs? That was amazing, but no, you don't have to do that."

She blushed and looked down before nodding and turning back to the fire. He saw her shoulders rise and fall once as she let out a heavy breath. While he watched her Artesia came over and sat down on the far side of the fire. Zynga was lying next to her so close to the fire John wasn't sure why her clothes hadn't burst into flames.

"How's the training going?" Zynga asked.

"Bad," Artesia answered.

John chuckled. "I'm learning how to take a beating, so that's something."

Zynga chuckled and said, "Some people would pay for that."

"I don't want to know," John said before he looked around. "Where's Jennaca and Sasha?"

Corsa glanced at him and pointed at her head.

John frowned until he had to smile and tease her a little, "In your head? No, my lady, Jennaca and Sasha are real."

Her eyes widened and she pressed her lips together to keep from laughing out loud. She pulled her hood back and pulled her hair out, stroking it and showing it to him.

"Oh! Getting the dye ready for your hair?"

She nodded.

"Good, that should help with situations like today," John said. He shook his head and sighed. "I hate to admit it, but I'm starting to think Artesia might have been right. Maybe we should have killed them all."

Corsa's eyes widened.

"Too late now," Artesia mumbled while running a stone along her sword.

Corsa waited for John to look her way and she shook her head.

"Really? You think I did the right thing?"

She nodded.

"Even though it probably made your life more complicated? They're looking for you, after all."

She shrugged and glanced around. She frowned when she didn't find what she was looking for. She put her first two fingers on the dry forest floor and walked them forward. She came behind with her palm and wiped the ground clear of the tracks her fingertips made.

"Jennaca hid our tracks," John translated. "True, but if he's this determined to find you, he's going to keep searching. And he'll keep telling others he's looking for you. That might turn into a reward. Rewards have a way of motivating people."

"Worked for you," Zynga said.

John sent a glare her way and then noticed Corsa studying him. He sighed and said, "Nothing to do you with you, lady Corsa. Zynga's referring to my Mistress."

Corsa nodded and turned back to the meat. She turned it and used her slender dagger to cut into the meat. Clear juice bubbled up and ran down before dripping into the fire and causing some spitting flames. She nodded and lifted the stick off the whittled branches that had been turned into posts for the spit.

"Hey everyone... Lord John, you've got to see this!"

John twisted to see Jennaca and Sasha walking out of the darkness. "See what?"

"What we found while we were looking for what we needed to make the dye for Lady Corsa's hair," Jennaca said. She held up bowl made out of leaves woven together and said, "Here's the dye, by the way. We should probably do that first, this won't hold for long."

Corsa froze, dinner for everyone held in her hands but her eyes on the uneven bowl in Jennaca's hands.

"Here," Artesia said. She stood up and sheathed her sword before taking the spit from the mute girl.

Artesia glanced at John and then back. She pressed her hand to her chest as she looked at Artesia and then turned to find Jennaca watching her closely. Jennaca's smile widened to show her teeth and hoisted up the flimsy bowl. Corse nodded.

"Okay... oh, I know! Come and lay down on the wagon's bench," Jennaca said. "On your back, so I can coat your hair good and not get much on your skin."

Corse climbed up onto the bench and laid back. Jennaca coached her a little to get her to move so her head hung over the edge and then made sure her hair was available for her to gather into the leaf bowl. She mixed the dye in with her fingers and made sure it coated her hair before lifting her dripping fingers from the bowl and began to smear the dye on Corsa's hair down to the roots. She tried to keep from smudging the woman's pointed ears and the skin around the edges of her hair.

John gathered some meat in his hands and ignored the hot grease running down his fingers and across his palms. He barely felt it thanks to his half-infernal nature. He walked over to watch and frowned when he saw the smudges across her brow and cheeks.

"I know," I'm making a mess of her skin," Jennaca said with the first frown John could remember seeing on her face. "We can scrub it off after, but it will take a lot of scrubbing."

John winked at her and gestured with his free hand. His magic slithered up Corsa's body and caressed her skin at the hairline. It gathered the excess dye the same as it would dirt or sweat or some other bodily fluid and lifted it away.

Jennaca gasped and looked at him. "Did you just..."

John nodded.

Corsa let a moan in her throat slip before her eyes jerked open and she pressed her lips tight together. She saw John and blushed before darting her eyes away.

"Mom used to run her fingers through my hair," Jennaca remembered. "It felt so good. A little scratch and a lot of tickle... but the good kind, you know? And when she would brush my hair out after a bath in the stream... mmm!"

John straightened a little as his scalp tingled. He jerked his head and then his eyes lost focus as he chased the feeling inside himself and then felt that it had came from his connection to Jennaca. Her memory of her mother playing with her hair was so intense she'd felt it... and John had felt it too.

"Are you okay?" Jennaca asked.

John blinked himself back and smiled. "Yes, sorry. You reminded me of something."

"Ooh, what was it?" she asked.

John smiled. "I'm not sure. A feeling... or a sensation. I'm not sure. It's no matter... what about this meat, it's getting cold and it smells delicious."

Jennaca smiled and shook her head. "No thank you, I ate while Sasha and I were out."

"You are? But... the meat you caught was cooking here..."

She giggled. "Berries and some roots, I many have been raised among animals but I don't eat like one. In fact... unless I don't have a choice I prefer not to eat meat."

John looked at the strips of meat in his hand and started to pull them back. "Oh, I—"

She laughed again. "Don't worry. I don't mind if you do. I know, meat is important for people to eat. Even me, sometimes I know I need to have some because I crave it. I just prefer not to if I can."

"Okay... Lady Corsa, would you like some?"

Corsa's eyes went to his hand and she swallowed before giving a short nod. Jennaca kept working the dye through her hair, preventing her from sitting up and taking it from him.

John took Corsa's hand in his and pressed a strip of the meat in her hands. It had cooled so it was barely warm. She lifted it and fumbled a bit, trying to get it into her mouth lying on her back. Juice smeared her cheek and lips as she managed to get a bit of it in her mouth. She chewed it and swallowed before nodding.

"Don't thank me, you cooked it," John said. "Jennaca shot it. I'm just holding it for you, but you're making a mess of yourself."

Corsa blushed.

"Don't fret," John said. He moved his hand over to above her face and held out the meat for her. Her eyes widened and, a second later, so did her lips. John placed more of the prairie pig meat into her mouth and watched her chew and swallow it. Her cheeks reddened further as she opened her mouth again and waited for more.

John smiled and obliged her, slipping the last of the meat he'd taken from the carcasses into her mouth.

"Okay!" Jennaca chirped. "You're covered in dye and John— Lord John, sorry— cleaned up the mess I made."

John jerked his eyes away from Corsa's lips. "Oh, good... now what, does she just leave it like that?"

Jennaca laughed. "No, of course not! She needs to wash it out after letting it sit... except... well... there's a clean spring nearby where she can wash it out."

"That's good, we don't have a lot of water left," John said. "Not for bathing or washing hair, at least."

"Good!" Jennaca decreed. "It's right next to what I wanted to show you!"

John looked back at Corsa. Her eyes were closed. When she opened them and saw him watching her she started to sit up rapidly.

"No! Wait, you don't want to get that all over your dress," Jennaca cried as she dropped the leaf bowl and struggled to hold Corsa down. "Let me put your hair up or... well, it's that or take off your dress."

Corsa reached up and gathered her wet hair. She twisted it and balled it up and held it to the back of her head. She sat up slowly and swung around so she was sitting on the bench. She looked around and then smiled when Jennaca bounded up from wherever she'd gone and handed over a splinter of wood that was at least six inches long. Corsa slid the spike of wood through her twisted hair and slowly moved her hand away. It held, prompting a smile that Jennaca shared.

"Okay, well, be careful out there," John said. He glanced at Sasha and chuckled. "Actually, we're probably in more danger than you are."

"You're not coming?" Jennaca asked. "I really wanted you to see what I found. I think you'd be fascinated."

Corsa looked at John and nodded. She started to hold her hand out toward him and then pulled it back. John smiled and nodded. "All right, one moment."

He turned and stepped around the wagon far enough to call over to Artesia and Zynga. "Jennaca wants to show us something, we'll be back."

Artesia shifted and started to get up.

"No, you can stay, we'll be all right," John said.

"Both of them?" Zynga teased him. "You dog!"

John ignored the halfling.

Artesia looked at Zynga and then turned back to John. Without missing a beat she said, "I can't protect you if I'm not with you."

He chuckled, "I'm more worried about you two. I've got Sasha."

"I can take care of myself," Artesia grumbled.

"Yes, you can. You proved that to me without a doubt."

She remained silent and then nodded. "I'll keep the camp safe. Be well, my lord."

John nodded back. "Thank you," he said and scooped up his spear.

He returned to find the Corsa and Jennaca standing near the back of his wagon. Jennaca greeted him with her ready smile and started chatting immediately about Corsa's hair. She talked about how long the dye would last and how quick the roots would show. She talked about repeating the treatment if necessary and the names of the berries and roots and bugs she'd used to make the dye. John zoned out and followed the girls. Sasha padded along beside him but ignored him, other than the rare glance his way.

After nearly ten minutes of walking John hear the burble of water. Jennaca led them straight to a hill that rose out of the mostly flat forest floor. The hill was a rock that was covered in dirt, fallen leaves, and moss. Jennaca took them around it led them along a crack where fresh water spilled out through a niche and poured in a tiny waterfall that gathered in a puddle that slowly trickled away over more rocks and led away into the darkness to the east.

"Here," Jennaca said as she slipper her bow off and leaned it against the rocks. She began to untie her belt next and said, "You'll have to stand in this puddle and it's cold, but I'll help you wash it out."

"I'll...um... I'll be over there," John said when he realized at least one of them was stripping naked.

Jennaca smiled at him and untied her top. John swore he could almost hear it groan with relief as it sagged under the awesome weight of her breasts. "Follow the stream, you'll know you're there when you find it. It won't take long."

John turned before she could give him a reason to stay and walked downstream from the spring. He heard a sharp gasp behind him and almost turned back. He remembered the connection he shared with Jennaca and checked on her through that instead. She was exhilarated and filled with joy. The simple act of helping another and the cold spring water had her in high spirits.

He shook his head at her... goodness? He thought it was almost naivety but it wasn't. It wasn't innocence either. For all her youth there was something about her that said her personality wasn't inexperience or ignorance, it was genuine. She was a rare creature indeed.

John sensed something in the darkness and turned to his right. He stumbled and stopped, his demon-sight helping form shapes out of the darkness. Shapes that were stick skinny and pale. Shapes that looked like bones, but bones so large he doubted they could be real.

He left the stream behind and wandered closer to the curved spires. He reached out when he stood between two of them and ran his hands along the giant curved length. It was taller than he was even with the curve. He stood in a the midst of a row and, further from the stream, a second row ran parallel. They were joined overhead by bleached white knuckles. Backbones. The spine of a massive beast.

John followed it forward, walking outside the ribs and stepping over thinner, longer bones that stretched out. Two sets of them, in fact, one thicker and shorter and ending in claws. The other could only be one thing, the bones that provided a frame for the muscles and skin of a wing.

Ahead further John's theory was confirmed beyond all doubt. The backbone extended forward many feet before ending in a massive bleached white dragon skull. He stared into the empty black orbs where eyes had once gazed with hunger and spite on its prey. He shivered at the thought of how large and terrifying the creature would have been in its prime. Even now it had him ready to run away for the slightest reason.

But the bones of a dragon were not something any self-respecting mage could turn up. Wizard, sorcerer, or warlock, bones had power. Bones such as these were sure to hold incredible power. Not only that, but they would be worth a fortune. Enough to buy an army, if he wanted. Or build a home to share with his new friends. More than just an estate, his own keep! A keep complete with a proper wizard's tower.

John shook his head. Dragon bones... that was the problem, they had power all right, and a touch of the dragon still in them. Perhaps the strongest of which was greed. He knew better than to give in to it, even if it felt tempting. All the things he could buy... he could set himself up to reclaim his former power. He could—

"Gah!" John cried out. He stepped back from the skull and moved back along the dragon's body. He moved past the ribs and further back, to where it's hind legs lay on the ground. The dragon's tail stretched on behind it, probably traveling far enough to circle the other side of the hill.

He turned and peered through the darkness at it again. It was fully intact, as near as he could tell. Some chips and breaks here and there, but whatever killed this dragon hadn't caused enough trauma to shatters any bones.

That wasn't what held him though. There was something else. Something that eluded him and danced through the darkness of his mind just out of reach. He could almost see it. Almost touch it and feel it...

The scuff of something against a rock behind him made John leap almost as high as the dragon's ribs. He landed and spun, spear stomped butt-first into the ground and black flames racing along its entire length. His left hand he held back, ready to trace out a spell form that would summon magic into a barrier he could protect himself with.

Corsa stood in front of him, her eyes wide and mouth open in a surprised gasp.

John ended the flames and dropped his defensive stance immediately. "Lady Corsa! I'm sorry, you startled me. I was so taken with this great beast's bones I— Oh... where are your clothes? Is Jennaca all right?"

Corsa took a step forward. She pressed her lips together and he saw her throat move as she swallowed. She couldn't keep her eyes on his as she dropped them to his chest. Her hands came up. She touched her chest, just a finger this time instead of her entire palm, and then reached out and touched his chest.

John sucked in a sharp breath through his nose. She'd never touched him before.

Corsa used both hands next. She formed a loose fist with her left hand and then, with her right, extended her finger and slowly buried it into the hole in her fist made by her thumb and first finger. She pulled it out and then buried it again.

John couldn't help but laugh. "Who taught you that?" he asked.

She held a hand out just above her waist and then brought both hands to the respective sides of her forehead. She extended a single finger, like tiny horns.

"I thought so. Zynga showed you?"

She nodded.

"And where's Jennaca and Sasha?"

She mimed stacking wood and then striking flint and steel to make a fire.

"Back to camp?"

She nodded.

He studied the slender half-elven woman. Her hair was wet but clean. Instead of blond it was now a reddish brown color. John reached out and touched her cold, wet hair and nodded. "It suits you. Very pretty."

She blushed and made the gesture of finger in circle again.

He smiled. "Do you know what that means?"

Corsa lowered her hands and rubbed her fingers over her bare sex. Not only was her sex bare, but it was really bare! She had no hair between her legs or under her arms. John inhaled and realized he could smell her. She was aroused. She knew all right, she knew and she wanted it.

He took a deep breath to clear his head but it brought in more of her scent now that he knew what to look for. His dark magic stirred inside of him and his cock began to stir on the outside of him.

"Wait," he asked. "Jennaca left you here and went back to camp? That means..."

Corsa nodded and lowered herself to her knees in front of him.

"Oh, Lady—"

She slid her hands up his legs and under his robe. She kept pushing it up, not breaking eye contact with him until his robe lifted above his cock. It rose quickly now that fresh air greeted it and was soon pointing at her face.

Corsa leaned in without a pause and kissed hit. She ran her lips along his length and then back up, only to repeat the performance on the other side. She let one side of his robe go and pushed the other side higher until John took it and lifted it over his head. He tossed it on an upthrust leg bone while she lowered her hand to the base of his cock and squeezed him.

John throbbed in her hand. She kissed his hardness again, parting her lips enough to tease him with her moist breath and the wetness of the inside of her lips. She backed away and lifted her other hand up. John stared, spellbound by the exotic beauty, as she rubbed her fingers and hand around the spongy head of his cock. Her hand was warm and wet, leaving him glistening with her juices. John groaned as she slid her wet hand down his length.