Wicked Amusement Ch. 04

Larya wanted to object. She wanted to point out that they knew the elves' tricks now, that they might be better-prepared to resist this time around. But she remembered Cellemin's advice. He'd seemed well-intentioned. So she bit her lip and remained docilely silent.

"I have in this town fifty elves who all serve me and me alone. The Celestial family is not some 'crime gang', Snatch. We are a kingdom all our own." Cellesixe giggled. "And you find yourselves in the queen's bedchambers. In essence, you are in quite a vulnerable position.

"Fortunately for you, so am I." Larya looked up. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Snatch did, too. Cellesixe's lips were pursed. "You need something from me. I need something from you. So while the fact of dominance is . . . critical to be clear on before we are in a position to conduct any sort of transactions, I ascertain that transactions can be conducted to a mutually beneficial degree, inasmuch as we perpetuate an awareness of superiority..."

Larya stared blankly as Cellesixe's sweet voice began to drone on. Cellesixe's cleavage was really a lot more visible than it had been in her last dress. Her breasts were even bigger than Isamine's. Larya wondered if Cellesixe deliberately wanted to tease her.

She looked back up, noticing that Cellesixe had fallen silent. The matriarch was gazing at her with a look of sly amusement. "Perhaps I misjudged you, Larya. You know, I really am very impressed by the 'bimbo' type."

Larya felt her face flush bright red. She knew Cellesixe had done at least part of that on purpose—swapped to big words to disorient them both—but Larya hadn't had to look right at her breasts like a total wanton. Her eyes are up there, she ironically reminded herself. Bimbo is right.

"What I mean," Cellesixe said, visibly containing more giggles with one set of elegantly-painted fingers, "is that I think we can do business."

"What do you want?" Larya and Cellesixe both glanced back. Snatch was leaning against the wall. His speech was slurred, but his eyes gazed straight at Cellesixe. Larya wondered if he'd looked at her breasts, too. It was sort of hard not to, and he looked a bit flushed himself.

"What do I want?" Cellesixe tapped her forehead, smiling. "I want to find my daughter her inspiration."

"Wow," Snatch mumbled. "That's a . . . Sounds like a philosophy sorta quest. What, is the true treasure gonna be the friends we killed along the way?"

Nobody said anything. Despite the sharp situation, Larya couldn't help but laugh. "If so, you're in for a big disappointment, Snatch."

"What, you don't think I have friends to kill?" He gave a bleary shrug, but seemed amused. He seemed to be in an odd mood. "How do you know I didn't just kill all my friends before I met you?"

"Because anybody stuck with you as a friend would die by their own hand, not yours."

Snatch snorted.

"Ahem." Cellesixe made a show of tugging at her collar. "Please, my darlings. Do try to focus. This is not a philosophical quest, I promise you." She reached into a desk drawer. "It involves a certain type of sprite."

"Oh?" Larya's head cocked, almost involuntarily. Stories she'd been told of the cities' sprite pits were flashing through her mind. She tried to keep her voice level. "Not a lust sprite, I assume?"

Cellesixe smirked. "No need to sound so eager, dear. No. This thing is called a 'leannán sídhe'. It is a very special kind of fey." She pulled out a large burlap sack. Next to all the finery, and Cellesixe itself, the bag looked horribly out-of-place. "You see, my daughter is an artist. And a fine one."

"Ooh, really?" Larya asked. "What kind?"

"A painter. A musician. A sculptor." Cellesixe shrugged. "As a mother, I cannot speak ill regardless, but my Cellemist truly is the finest creator this side of the Evergreen. But her inspiration, she says, has ebbed." Her eyes narrowed. "And that makes her prey."

Snatch shambled over to the desk and picked up the sack. It looked quite light, and almost empty. "Prey for this, uh, Lenin Seed?"

"It is a muse sprite," Cellesixe said flatly. "It follows its target, filling them with inspiration, with ideas, with art eternal in meaning. For a few short months, their full potential is drawn out to the surface, and they produce mastery after mastery. Then . . . they are tapped."

"Tapped?" Snatch asked.

"Like a flaring candle, they burn bright, then die." Cellesixe's jaw was visibly clenched, and her words came as if each had to fight its way out of her. "My daughter hungers for this. She hungers for 'five moons of ecstasy'."

"And you're okay with that?" Larya frowned. "Really?"

"What my daughter wants, she gets." Cellesixe met Larya's gaze, and Larya felt some subtle challenge to look away. She struggled to read Cellesixe. She searched for truth. But Larya could only see a face painted like an ornate Northern egg, the true contents long since sucked out, leaving only stunning beauty. Cellesixe was too good, and Larya quickly averted her eyes.

Snatch reached into the bag and pulled out what looked like a tangle of bead necklaces. He stared blankly at it with red-rimmed eyes. "What's this?"

"A net," Cellesixe said. "Cellemist made it. She believes . . . if you can find the creature, this will snare it."

"And why do you need us to catch it?" Snatch asked.

Cellesixe's tongue was visible in the side of her cheek. "The sprite is . . . elusive. It likes the chase. But my daughter cannot pursue, so someone must go in her place."

"Why can't she pursue?" Larya asked.

"If," Cellesixe said, ignoring Larya, "you retrieve the muse for us, we will give you whatever herbs or antitoxins you desire. You will be sent on your way, with our most sincere compliments." She gave a toothy smile. "I will also personally guarantee your security against any more . . . mishaps. I can even throw in a Gancanagh patch for Snatch."

Larya glanced back at Snatch, confused. Snatch shook his head. "I'm good."

"Really? I'm told the addiction can be . . ."

"I'm good," he repeated, glaring. "So what happens if we say no? Or we try, but can't catch the bitch?"

Larya winced at his rudeness.

"Ooh." Cellesixe's hand flew to her o-shaped mouth. She frowned sadly. "Oh, my dear Snatch. If you were to disappoint me . . . You understand. It really isn't anything personal. I have a job to do, after all."

"What?" Snatch demanded, apparently not taking the hint.

Cellesixe's lips quirked upwards. "Well, I believe the Thriae Queens have been in need of a few more honey sprites of late."

Larya exchanged a look with her temporary partner. She turned back to Cellesixe and formed a flirtatious smile. "Why, Cellesixe, I'm sure we'd be delighted. But we can't let Cellemist down, can we?"

"Oh, certainly not," Cellesixe agreed.

They both turned to Snatch.

He hesitated, then forced a little grimace. "When can we start?"

~~~~

"So." Snatch coughed. His head was still foggy from the drug, and the Knifewoods looked a bit brighter than usual. Was it afternoon? He'd have thought it was almost dusk. But he did feel a bit hot. "You okay?"

"Hm?" Larya glanced back at him. The druidess blinked. "Are you ... feeling alright, Snatch?"

"Mm-hm." He gave a gruff nod. "Fine. Just a bit ... tired. You alright? We got separated after ... after shit happened."

"Ha. Yeah." Larya looked like she was feeling a bit hot herself. "I'm okay. They tricked us. It was all about power."

"We fucked up." Snatch found it easier to admit than usual. "Cellesixe can have her mind games, though. She won't get us like that again."

"I dunno." Larya bit her lip. "I wonder if this wasn't just mind games. Maybe ... maybe she's trying to weaken us. Make us easier to, uh, capture later."

"Doesn't work like that. Next time they make a move, you smash 'em with your magic. Don't give 'em a chance."

"I hope I can," she said, almost too quiet for even Snatch's keen ears. "I ... I think there are some lingering effects. From ... Balabar. Sinthia."

Snatch blinked. He had no idea what to say to that, so he just shrugged. She seemed like she needed some positive words, and Snatch was about as positive as an electron ooze. "Well, we've got Mier on the line here. You, uh ... If they try to take you down, it won't just be spells they gotta watch out for." He tapped the scythe strapped to his back for emphasis.

Larya looked up at him, mouth opening slightly in surprise. "You're saying ... you've got my back."

"We're in this one together, anyways." He tried to fix her with a look that wasn't completely unfriendly. "We're gonna have to be working together in some sorta, uh, capacity if we're both gonna make it out with the antitoxin, right? What? What?" Larya was now staring at him, eyes widening. "What is it?"

"You're drugged!" she exclaimed.

"I am not!" Snatch snapped, feeling his cheeks burning.

"Oh my gosh! You are!" Larya looked positively scandalized by this.

"How did you not notice sooner?"

"I just thought—I mean, like, sure, that was one interpretation, but—" Larya shook her head. "What drug is it, anyways? Is it, um ... smile-dip? Rad-powder?"

"Those aren't real drugs."

"Well, I don't know!" She threw her hands in the air. "I'm not some sort of drug expert like you!"

"We had to learn this shit back in—back home," he said. "It's smoke. Gancanagh smoke. It's ... mostly only a problem if you get more than one dose. I didn't."

The lie came easier than usual, perhaps thanks to the drug itself, and Larya seemed puzzled. She couldn't read him as clearly as usual, Snatch hoped.

The truth was, the smoke was extremely addictive. For women, mainly, of course, but for anyone if they breathed in enough. He'd had four doses, at least. His next week would be agonizing to endure—endless nights staring up into stars and trying not to throw up, most likely. But he didn't want Larya to wor—to know. He didn't want anyone to know this. He was perfectly capable of handling it as long as it didn't get out.

"So where are we headed, anyways?" Snatch asked, hoping to change the subject.

Larya's head tilted, and she took the bait. "We're headed for a nice little pond nearby. Apparently, this 'muse' has been spotted there once or twice."

Snatch considered his words for a moment, picking them over to make sure he was asking a fully lucid question. "And what, exactly, makes us think we can get this 'muse' to show herself for us when she won't even show for the actual artist lady? The thugs couldn't pull it off, after all."

"Why, Snatch." Larya flashed him a disarming smile. "The thugs are not me."

~~~~

Larya couldn't help but glance at Snatch every few seconds as they made their way through the forest. She told herself it was purely out of concern for her temporary sidekick, but she couldn't deny a little bit of fascination. Now that she knew he was .... under an influence, she could tell his eyes were a bit rosier than before. He also seemed to be walking a bit unevenly, falling with heavy footfalls every three paces. He didn't appear to notice her cursory examination, either—unusual for the perceptive adventurer.

She was tempted, she had to admit.

Snatch was a very secretive man. She could probably get him to, well, talk right now. He'd probably be willing to answer questions if they were approached right, and Larya was curious by nature, so she had plenty. He'd been showing what had almost resembled concern for her a few minutes ago. What was that about? He'd always given every indication he couldn't stand her. How had he gotten into mercenary work? And what was his real name, anyways? It obviously wasn't 'Snatch'.

Suddenly, Snatch froze in place. Larya had been examining him at the time, noticing some lipstick stains on his neck, and this caught her off-guard. So did his next words. "Someone's there," he hissed.

"Really?" Larya blinked. "I don't hear anyone." She looked ahead. They were circling around a small, rocky hill—so rocky it could easily be mistaken for a cairn were it not so large. Just a pile of stones and moss. The sounds of falling water came from the other side.

"You don't?" He scowled at her. "Well, do you smell anything?"

"Um..." Larya gave the air an experimental sniff. She knew Snatch had a remarkable sense of smell, but now that she was alerted to it, she, too, could smell it. "Herbs?"

"Strong herbs." Snatch was reaching for his scythe. "It must be a dryad."

"Hold up." Larya shook her head. "It's not just one plant, Snatch. Like, I smell lavender—that could mean a lavender dryad, which is a kind of High Fey that dumbs down her victims—but I also smell sage, which has no dryad species I've ever heard of. I don't think it's a dryad."

"It better not be. You don't need any more dumbing down."

"Um, what?" She fixed him with a glare. "That better be the drugs talking."

Snatch coughed. "Sor—well, what is it, then, if you know so much?"

She sniffed the air again, allowing herself to sink into the World Base once again. Now she could smell just about everything, and smelling deeply just immersed herself deeper in this joyous world. It was almost impossible to focus on a single scent of the thousands, but she could distinctly make out lavender, sage, oregano, thyme...

Wait. She frowned. There was one smell that seemed a bit off. "Is that catnip?"

She pulled out of the World Base, not wanting to drop too far into it after what had happened earlier. They exchanged looks, then kept walking. Whatever it was wouldn't be revealed by lingering, after all.

As the pair rounded the hill, they came to the pond—a small, picturesque glade with a little waterfall running down from the hill above. And there, in the middle of the pond, sitting on a large rock...

Oh, my, Larya found herself thinking.

The figure had creamy white skin and shoulder-length red hair. It was very much feminine. Her face was framed between her knees, hands and pert butt pressed against the stone as the girl rapidly masturbated with her left hand. Her long lashes folded over closed eyes on a lightly freckled face, and some very slightly sharp teeth were clenched hard. Her right hand explored her lush breasts, tweaking and twisting her nipples as if desperate to spread out the sensation. She was totally naked, and her body shook with each high-pitched gasp. Her breaths came out weak and needy, carrying the barest implication of emotion, of lust.

Larya was staring. She found she couldn't look away.

"What the fuck ..." Snatch muttered.

The woman's eyes, bright green with catlike slits, shot open and locked with Larya's. The woman stared at her a moment, holding her in that gaze of desire for one long second.

Then the woman let out a scream and fell onto her back, giving Larya a perfect, inescapable view of her gushing pussy as her fingers thrust into it, stroked her clit, drawing the orgasm out as long as possible. She lay there and writhed for a full fifteen seconds, in plain view of the two travelers, with no evident signs of shame. Larya still couldn't look away.

When it finally subsided, the woman pulled her fingers out and brought them up to her face, behind her knees. Larya couldn't see because of her vantage point, but she could audibly hear sounds of licking and sucking—sounds that were perhaps a hair louder than they needed to be.

Then the woman sat up, and with a flick of her head, two large, catlike ears unflattened from the sides of her head. They were reddish and fuzzy, the same color as her hair—and therefore almost invisible when lowered. The woman finished sucking off her thumb, then popped it out and gave a cheery wave. "Oh, hello! Fancy seeing a couple other travelers in these parts, what?"

Larya opened her mouth, trying to find the words.

A little squeak came out.

It was almost nothing—all but imperceptible—but the woman's left ear twitched, and she gave a lazy smile as she stood. "Y'gotta pardon my raiment, lovies," she called. "Methinks there's a pretty little fir dryad in these woods with something of a pointy sense of humor, what?" She winked at Larya, then crouched—giving Larya another perfect view, this time of her toned legs and bubble butt. She leaped.

Larya and Snatch watched as she easily made it to the other side, perhaps four meters off. She stooped and casually lifted up a small green satchel. Slinging it over her shoulder, she made her way around the pond to the pair. As she drew near, her eyes again met Larya's. They were bright, brilliant, and terrifyingly green. And familiar in a way Larya couldn't place. "What's got a coupla nice folks like you in a dive like this?" she asked.

"Um." Larya swallowed.

She looked at Snatch, who seemed similarly uncomfortable. But he covered it with a glare. "Who are you? You fey?"

"Oh, by my pointies." The woman giggled. She pursed her lips and kissed the tip of her index finger, then extended the hand to shake. "Not exactly, and exactly that. The name's Lim. Catgirl, at your service."

Larya hesitated, but the hand was clearly directed towards her, and Snatch didn't seem to want to, and she realized she kind of did. She took the catgirl's hand, marveling at the softness of her skin, and shook it. "Larya. And this is Snatch. Humans, at your service."

"Well!" Lim beamed. "Isn't that a nice offer. Don't mind if I do!" She made a little show of reaching towards Larya, and Larya's heart thudded, realizing she was reaching for the cleavage shown by her shirt. Larya leaned away, and Lim only gave a high-pitched girlish laugh. "Kidding, lovelies. But it's a real pleasure to finally meet you proper."

Larya frowned, finally realizing. "You were the climber in the tree," she said, her voice turning accusatory.

"Ooh!" Lim gave a little bounce of glee. "You remember me! She remembers me! The dryad figured a cute number like you prob'ly gets tons of offers, but—"

"Wait, what?" Larya held up her hands. "Offers? Dryad?"

"Menzi." Lim clasped her hands together next to her cheek. "What a treat. What a sweet-smelling charm. Fir dryad with a lot of sisters. You should look her up sometime, you know. She's utterly enamored ever since the first probe."

"What are you talking about?"

Lim paused, then suddenly leaned close. Larya thought the catgirl was about to kiss her, but instead she just fluttered those long lashes. "Notice anything you like?"

Larya stared into those eyes. Forests, oceans, worlds of green stared back at her. A mirror of green stared back at her.

"Oh my goodness," she whispered. "You're a druid."

Lim squealed with glee. "And the silly bird finds her worm! Oh, yes, lovely Larya." She grabbed Larya's hands before Larya could even react, clasping them in her own. "I'm a fellow druid. And ever since you sent out that feeler two nights ago—"

"You mean when I was..." Larya blushed, remembering. Of course. When she'd gotten caught up in the World Base two days ago, standing in her and Snatch's campsite, drinking in the world around her. When she'd done it around the fairies, she'd always noticed them being a little bit breathless after. To druids and fey, maybe it was akin to ... well, maybe the sensations of pleasure weren't just on her end. "And when I told the vine to grab you, and I ... you say that was an offer?" Her face was burning hot, but she pressed on. "I couldn't stop cumming for minutes after! I thought it was some sort of attack!"

"Ooh." Lim giggled. She leaned back against a tree, stretching. Her breasts bounced copiously as she did so. Larya noticed Snatch pointedly looking away, but how could anyone look away from those perfect spheres? "Minutes after, you say? Oh, my. Oh, my." Her breath was turning hoarse, her voice husky. "I didn't know ... I'd had that sort of effect."