Astielle: Chapter Thirty

NSFW Content Warnings
Gangbang ❤ Dubious Consent ❤ Maledom ❤ Femsub ❤ Sadism/Masochism ❤ Biting with Fangy Teeth ❤ Breastplay ❤ Physical Restraint ❤ Size Difference ❤ Size Kink ❤ Penetrative Sex ❤ Weird Monster Dicks ❤ Tentacles ❤ Frotting ❤ Penis-in-Vagina Sex ❤ Anal Sex ❤ Blowjobs ❤ Handjobs ❤ Facefucking ❤ Spitroasting ❤ Double Penetration ❤ Multiple Orgasms ❤ Overstimulation ❤ Rough Sex ❤ Dirty Talk ❤ Excessive Amounts of Monster Semen ❤ Snowballing ❤ Creampie (no impreg) ❤ Sloppy Seconds ❤ it’s a gangbang and there’s dicks and jizz everywhere i don’t know how to make this any clearer

Violet descended from the clouds to land beside Rose in the courtyard of the Castle of Perivo. He would have liked to shake the water from his wings and rest a while—it had been a lengthy flight, after all—but it lacked a certain regality. He fell into a bow appropriate for one royal to another. “Violet Savagewing at your service, Your Majesty,” Violet said. “King Karzarul sends his regards, and his apologies that he could not be here himself.”

“That’s quite all right,” the Queen of Perivo said, which meant the presence of ordinary monsters was horrifying enough. No doubt she had some funny ideas about how many heads the King of All Monsters possessed.

Rubellite and Sapphire stood behind Rose at something like attention, a lazy grip on their spears. Rose’s sleeves were less dramatic than Violet’s, though he kept longer tails on his robe. He liked to keep his hair in a high ponytail tied with a long ribbon, with makeup that emphasized his cheekbones. Rubellite and Sapphire wore tunic vests and knee-length skirts, both in black instead of bothering to match their skin. Sapphire kept his face bare and his hair cut to a sharp chin-length bob, while Rubellite kept his long and pulled into a bun with a neatly-trimmed beard. Little touches to make them distinct, insofar as they were capable of it.

“The Hollow monsters are being dealt with to your satisfaction?” Violet asked.

“There are more strongholds yet,” Princess Camille said with a small bow of her own, “but the bulk of them seem to have been dispatched. Perivo appreciates the assistance of your people.”

“Of course,” Violet said. “We only regret that these beasts have been allowed to wear our faces for so long.”

“Lord Rose has informed us that King Karzarul would be open to trade,” Prince Antonin said. “Perivo has much to offer. We would be interested to know what it is we might have in return.”

Violet had been deliberately garish, gold thread embroidering his robe and a rainbow of gemstones dripping from his neck in delicate gold chain. The hands opposite the ones holding his fans were bedecked in rings that came to sharp points like claws, all connected with more chains. Even his fans had been gold-plated for the occasion. It was all a bit much, but Perivo was the sort of place that responded well to excess.

“We are monsters,” Violet said. “One must be careful what one asks of us.” He snapped his fans shut and flared out his wings to their full and massive span, summoning up a haze of purple moonlight. The ability of any monster but Karzarul to summon moonlight was limited, and though Violet could do more than most, it did little but look impressive. The Knights guarding the Queen moved to protect her.

“We are possessed of wonders beyond your comprehension, constructs and mechanisms beyond your wildest imaginings. We could line our streets in sapphires and gold, so trivial do we find their beauty. What once was ours is ours again, all that was stolen from us reclaimed, and the spires of Karzarul’s Castle climb to glory. If we desired it we could rain riches upon your lowliest peasants, offer to your soldiers more salt than the ocean could bear. Your treasury would be worthless, your crown a trifle, your economy in tatters before the weight of our merciless generosity.”

Violet drew in his wings and clasped his hands. “So we will be trying to avoid that, yes?”

“Of course,” the Queen said, not at all discomfited.

Violet turned his smile to Prince Antonin. “We have observed,” Violet said, “that humans produce a great deal of trash.”

“I beg your pardon?” the Prince said.

“There is the usual kind, as any animal might make,” Violet continued, “such as sewage, bad crops, moldy bread crusts. That sort of thing. But then you have your human trash, the things that don’t rot. Broken pottery, shattered glass, rusted metal, last year’s fashions. As we are not human, you must forgive me if I have misunderstood. It seems to me that your current method of dealing with the problem is to dig a pit, fill the pit, and then when the pit is much too full of things that do not rot, you cover it up with the dirt from digging another pit. Is this correct?”

“It is a simplification,” the Princess said, “but it is not incorrect.”

“Those things that do not rot,” Violet said, snapping open his fan to flutter it again, “monsters can make to disappear. We would be willing to provide this service if Perivo were willing to provide us with sugar.”

“Reconsider suggesting that your refuse ought be its own payment,” Rose warned the Prince, fluttering his own fan beside Violet. “We have offered to solve a problem. It is not out of the kindness of our hearts that we do so.”

“Sugar,” the Queen repeated thoughtfully.

“With your access to the Southern coasts, you are in the best position to provide it,” Violet said, “but far from the only. We are being generous, but mercifully so.”

“Are monsters partial to sweets?” the Prince asked.

Violet smiled, sharp teeth visible despite his fluttering fan. “We are partial to many things,” he said. “We have no shortage of meat, but one tires of things that bleed. To rebuild a castle takes no time at all, but in its work a bee will not be rushed.”

The Princess snapped her fingers, and a woman came forward with a small tray of trifles. “If you are so inclined,” the Princess offered.

“I do hate to say no to a sweet little thing,” Violet said. The woman seemed to lean away as he reached for a small cake. He narrowed his eyes.

“You’re really tall,” she explained apologetically, and it was true that she needed to lean backward to be able to make eye contact. Etiquette meant she ought not to have been making eye contact. Violet took a cake and looked her over, for all the good it did him. Fashion in Perivo went for enormous skirts and tight bodices that gave everyone the figure of a broom. She had brown-black hair in a tight crown of thick plaits, and the hard-sided bodice suited her not at all.

“Yes,” he agreed. “Yes I am.” She remembered to lower her face, but not her eyes, dark hazel-green. He held one of his fans in such a way as to hide his wink. She turned red and retreated.


«Is construction on the castle really so far along?» Rose asked in Aekhite, to avoid being overheard.

«Oh, fuck no,» Violet said, throwing himself at Rose now that they had a room to themselves. They’d been given a suite befitting diplomats even before Violet arrived. «We haven’t even started on the castle, we need to figure out the plumbing first.»

«The fucking plumbing,» Safi said.

«See?» Violet said. «You know. All the King cares about is whether he can take a bath, he doesn’t care about the toilets. We’re figuring that part out first, then we can build the spires. And baths. There’s going to be a huge bath.» He sighed, all his weight still on Rose. «My wings are tired,» he complained. He twitched his wings, ruffling his feathers.

«Poor baby,» Rose said. «No one appreciates all the work you do to take human garbage.»

Violet grumbled, standing upright. «I know we can’t put it past them to start a war with their own infrastructure,» he said. «I want to make it difficult for them, that’s all. The little ones end up stealing it anyway, they hate to waste shinies. Might as well make a job of it the way a person would, instead of getting treated like raccoons.» He reached into one of his sleeves. «I actually came to give you this,» he said, handing Rose a Seeing Stone.

«Oooh,» Rose said, accepting it. «Where did you get it?»

«Leonas made it for us,» Violet said with a flutter of his eyelashes. Rose gasped.

«Did he really? Did you meet him?»

«I did,» Violet preened. «Karzarul brought him home.»

Rose clapped two of his hands with delight. «What was he like?»

«You know what he’s like.»

«With us, I mean,» Rose pressed. «Was he nice?»

«Very polite, it was a little sad,» Violet said. «Such an anxious little thing. Well, not little. He only seems little, you know, with those wrists. I don’t know what they’re feeding him but they should try more of it.»

«Dick?» Rose suggested.

«If he’s eating nothing but dick, that would explain a lot,» Violet said. «Oh, that’s right!» he remembered. «Karzarul figured it out, finally.» Rose shrieked. Violet shrieked back because it was infectious. «I know,» Violet said. «I can’t tell if they’ve had sex yet but they definitely did something. I don’t know the details, he doesn’t tell me anything.»

«I hate that!» Rose said.

«I know!» Violet said.

«Leonas is the new Heir?» Safi asked. He and Ru had settled themselves into chairs.

«I forget you don’t know,» Violet said. «He’s where we got our hair,» he said, fluffing his curls.

«And these,» Rose reminded him, tapping his mouth. Violet pressed a quick kiss to it, and they both giggled. Rose tried to kiss Violet’s neck around his necklace.

«Needy,» Violet accused, using one hand to stroke one of Rose’s antennae. Rose shuddered, leaning his weight against Violet. «I give you two boys all to yourself, and I don’t think you’ve even sat on them.»

«You’re the one who likes them dour,» Rose said. «That’s too much work for me. I like them easy.»

«Oh, rude,» Violet said, gripping Rose’s antenna outright, and Rose gasped at a high pitch as one of Violet’s other hands grabbed him by the throat. His two lower hands held his hips. Violet looked back toward the chairs, where both Impyrs turned their heads in opposite directions, pretending they hadn’t been watching. «If we start fucking, are you going to be sociable and join?»

Safi mumbled something noncommittal, and Ru mumbled an agreement.

«Sapphire,» Violet decided. «Your colors match better, I want to watch you fuck him.»

Safi’s face turned a darker shade of blue.

Violet slid a hand downward to stroke the bulge in Rose’s tights, and Rose groaned dramatically. Ru sat taller, looking toward the fireplace. «I heard something,» he said.

«Don’t be so obvious about it,» Violet scolded the Impyrs, who were now both sitting like they’d spotted prey in the walls. «Keep making fun noises, Rose, I’ll take a look.»

Rose obliged by stroking himself as soon as Violet let him go, gasping and moaning more than was strictly necessary. Violet took light steps to the fireplace, and experimentally summoned a little moonlight haze to feel for seams. He found the latch for a servant’s entrance hidden in the paneling, and in one quick motion pushed it open and caught the lurking presence by the arm. He clapped a hand over her mouth before she could scream, his lower two arms holding her off the ground by the waist.

“Oh!” Rose said with a small flare of his wings, clapping both pairs of his hands together. “It’s the Princess’ pet girl,” he said in Perivo.

“Either they have humans nesting in the walls,” Violet said, “or else we have a spy.” The woman tried to shake her head, and he could feel her trembling. It was tempting to kiss the top of her head, but he doubted she’d find that reassuring.

“Should we kill her?” Ru asked. Safi reached out to smack his arm as the woman struggled in Violet’s arms.

“Rude,” Violet said, holding her tighter. “We’re guests. Don’t threaten to kill the help.” He let her arm go to pat the top of her head. He brought her to the middle of the room and set her down, and her knees gave out underneath her. She knelt on the floor and fell into a prostrate bow.

“I only wanted to see if you needed anything, my lords,” she said in a small voice.

Rose clicked his tongue, snapping his own fan open. “Through the secret entrance for the housekeepers, and without announcing yourself?”

“All alone, to the room full of men?” Violet continued. He snapped a fan open to flutter it. “Not at all the done thing.” He used it to shield the lower half of his face as he nudged her side with the toe of his boot. She kept her head down, unmoving. “Perhaps the Princess sent her sneakiest girl to hide in the walls and catch us in a compromising position.” She shook her head again. “Perhaps she seeks to steal documents for the Queen, or treasures for her own.” She shook her head harder.

“Shall we try to get a confession out of her?” Rose asked.

Violet crouched down, snapping his fan shut and tapping both fans into the palm of the opposite hand. “We are, as always,” he said, “generous and merciful.” He tapped a fan against her shoulder. “Look at me,” he ordered. She raised her head, her face flush and her eyes wet. “Give us a name, dear.”

“Gemma,” she sniffled.

“Gemma,” Violet repeated, lifting her chin with the side of his folded fan. “Leave now, and go very far away, for if we ever see you again there will be consequences. Or, if you would prefer, you can prove you’re not a little sneak.”

“I’m not,” she insisted, sniffling again.

“I know, baby, I know,” he said. He ran the bare pad of a thumb underneath her eye. “Poor thing,” he said sympathetically, licking it off before he stood. “If you want to prove it,” he said, strolling closer to Safi, “you’ll have to take your clothes off.” He sat on the armrest of Safi’s chair, draping one right arm over the back of it and using his other right hand to toy with Safi’s hair.

“What?” she asked. Rose tittered behind his fan, sitting on Ru’s armrest in a mirror image of Violet.

“Your skirts are so big,” Violet said, crossing his legs over Safi’s lap, “and your bodice so solid, you could very well be hiding anything in there. If you have nothing to hide, then show us.” Violet shrugged, hand wandering from Safi’s hair to stroke his horn. “Or else leave, and trouble us no more.” She wrung her hands in her lap. “We’ll stay right over here,” Violet coaxed sweetly, “and you can stay over there. You can even keep your underthings. We’re being very trusting, aren’t we?”

«This seems unnecessary,» Safi said, shifting uncomfortably.

«Hush,» Violet said.

Gemma fidgeted with the laces on her bodice. “You won’t tell anyone?” she asked.

“Not even if you leave,” Violet promised. She rose to her feet and started untying her laces. “Rose, do tell me we have drinks.”

“We do,” Rose confirmed, sliding off Ru’s chair and heading for the suite’s dining room. Gemma kept her eyes downcast as she worked at her laces, until she could finally slide her bodice off. This accomplished very little, with her stays and her undershirt still on. She worked at the waist of her skirt next, as Rose returned with a bottle in one hand and glasses in two others. He hadn’t bothered getting any for the Impyrs. He handed a glass to Violet before sitting himself directly in Ru’s lap, sideways to keep his wings out of the way.

“So many layers,” Violet said, sipping at his wine. “I don’t know how they stand it.”

“Do you think we look naked to them?” Rose asked. “They must think we’re indecent.”

Gemma finally managed to get her skirt off, carefully shaking it out and folding it. She waited.

“The stays and the petticoats, too,” Violet said.

“You said I could keep my underthings,” Gemma said.

“Your under things,” Violet said. “Those are your… middle things.”

She set her skirt and her bodice aside much too tidily and started unlacing her stays.

«It’s really too bad there aren’t any monsters with tits,» Rose sighed.

Violet looked down at Safi. «Aren’t there?»

«Hey,» Safi frowned.

«I know the King wouldn’t want to be all… all…»

«Minnowy?» Violet suggested.

«Yes!» Rose agreed. «But it wouldn’t kill him to try it long enough to make us some company. Then humans wouldn’t be so distracting.»

«Of course they would,» Violet said. «We have each other, humans with nice asses aren’t less distracting. Besides, you know what he’s like. He’d end up with six tits and a cloaca.»

Ru snorted.

«Considering how long it took him to get the hang of dicks, let him eat Minnow out a hundred years more before you go asking for anything more complicated,» Violet said. Gemma finally managed to get out of her stays, her figure falling into a more curved configuration beneath her undershirt. Violet clapped politely, and Rose followed suit. Gemma looked flummoxed. “You’re lovely, dear,” Violet assured her. He raised a hand for a stage whisper. “The women here all look like cleaning supplies, you know—sticks with oodles of fabric at the ends.”

She giggled nervously as she let her petticoats fall.

Much better,” Violet said as she shook out her petticoat and folded it to join her skirt. Her bloomers still left a lot to the imagination, but at least she had calves.

Hands empty, she held out her arms and spun in a small circle. “See?” she said. “I haven’t taken anything.” She clasped her hands tightly in front of her stomach.

Violet hummed, sipping at his wine. “Take your hair down,” he said.

“There’s nothing in my hair,” Gemma said, patting at the thick braids wound around her head.

“I don’t care,” Violet said.

“Oh.” After a moment’s hesitation, Gemma started pulling pins out of her hair. She unwound the braids with her fingers until her hair fell crimped around her face.

“That’s cute,” Rose said approvingly.

“Mm-hmm,” Violet agreed, sliding off of Safi’s chair. Gemma shrank in on herself as Violet came closer, flexing his wings. “Drink?” he asked, offering her his glass. She accepted with tentative hands, only to take an enormous gulp. Violet giggled as he took the glass back. “You’re not a thief,” Violet said, “but you still might be a spy. The only way to be sure is to play a game.”

“What kind of a game?” Gemma asked.

“A traditional monster game,” Violet said, “where we see how many dicks we can fit inside you at once.”

Her eyes got very wide. “Oh.” She swallowed. “That’s traditional?”

“Every tradition starts somewhere,” Violet shrugged, downing the rest of his glass.

«I’m not comfortable with this,» Safi said, and Violet frowned, setting the empty glass aside on a shelf.

«Why not?» Violet asked. He bent down to grab Gemma’s chin, tilting her face toward the Impyr with the tips of sharp rings. «You don’t think she’s cute? I’ve seen the other women here, Sapphire, this one has the best arms of the lot so far.» Violet draped another arm over her shoulders.

«She’s obviously not a spy,» Safi said. «She doesn’t need to be punished.»

«We’re not punishing her,» Violet said. «She’s into it.»

«Is she?» Ru asked doubtfully.

«Did you not hear her earlier?» Violet asked. «With her ‘you’re tall’ thing?»

«She says that a lot,» Ru said.

«What did you think that meant?» Rose asked.

«We are tall,» Safi said.

Violet rolled his eyes. «When a human says ‘oh wow, you’re really tall‘ like that, it means they think your meat is huge and they want to see.»

«That’s not a thing,» Safi said.

«It’s a thing,» Rose said. «You guys are just dense.»

Violet looked back at Gemma, whose chin he was still holding. “The Impyrs,” he explained, “are shy.”

“Sorry,” she said.

“Don’t be,” he said. “You’re lovely. How are you at sucking dick?”

She blinked. “I don’t know?”

“Hmm,” Violet said. “Troubling.”

“I can,” she rushed to assure him. “I’ve done it before. Not a lot, is all.”

“I appreciate your honesty. Open your mouth, let’s see.” She didn’t open as wide as he would have liked, but it was enough to slide two fingers over her tongue. “Suck,” he ordered. He nuzzled at her hair as she complied. “She isn’t biting me,” he informed the others, “so that’s a good sign.”

“I’ll let you go first,” Rose said.

“Be nice,” Violet scolded as he took his fingers out of her mouth, and Rose stuck out his tongue. Violet tilted Gemma’s face toward his so that he could kiss her. It took a moment for her to relax enough to kiss him back. “Good girl,” he said, and she looked pleased. “Get on your knees, Gemma dear, let’s see what you can do.” He reached underneath his robe to free himself from his tights, and on the floor Gemma let out a high-pitched almost-shriek of surprise that gave him pause.

“There’s two of them,” she said.

“Yes,” he agreed.

“They’re big.”

“Thank you.”

Safi snickered.

«Watch it,» Violet warned, sliding the chains of his fans off his wrists to tuck them into his sleeves. «She isn’t going to be any less alarmed by what you’ve got.»

«We have the advantage of centuries more experience with human dicks,» Rose agreed.

«I don’t know about advantage,» Violet said. «I quite like the tentacles, if I’m honest.»

Safi rubbed at his nose, which did not hide his blush.

“Are you mad?” Gemma asked. “I didn’t mean to yell, I didn’t expect it was all.”

“You’re fine,” Violet assured her.

“I’m worried it’s going to poke me in the eye,” she admitted.

“Tilt your head,” he suggested, “and come to terms with the fact that you’re going to have a dick on your face. You’ll look lovely, I promise.” She opened her mouth. “Wait,” he said, and she stopped. “Constructive criticism,” he said, and she nodded. “Stick your tongue out, go tongue-first. Otherwise it looks like you’re about to take a bite out of it.” She stuck her tongue out this time before sliding her mouth over the lower of his cocks, the second rubbing against her cheek. “That’s fucking beautiful,” he said as she started to suck. “Get sloppy with it, sweetheart, messy is better. Bring your hands up here, there’s a dear.” He pulled out of her mouth, used his lower hands to guide hers and get her palms slick with saliva and pre-cum. Then he wrapped his fingers around her hands and used them to stroke himself, because he could already tell she wouldn’t grip tight enough otherwise. “Keep your hands working if you don’t want to gag on it.”

“You’re so helpful,” Rose said. “I think it’s sweet.”

“I live to serve,” Violet said loftily as Gemma stroked his cocks and started sucking again. “Against your face, dear,” he said, gesturing to indicate what he wanted. She pressed one hand against the base of the cock in her mouth and tried to take it deeper, using her other hand to press his cock against her cheek and stroke it. “That’s so fucking good,” he said, admiring the way it looked against her and how small it made her look. Echoes of memories that were never meant for him.

“Well now I’m jealous,” Rose said, setting down his glass and getting up out of Ru’s lap. He tucked his own fans into a pocket on his top, his sleeves being less voluminous and having less storage than Violet’s. “Let’s see if she can show me what she’s learned.”

“Now that I’ve done all the work you’re eager to reap the benefits,” Violet accused.

“Always,” Rose agreed, standing to the other side of the kneeling woman and getting his cocks out. Gemma looked at Rose, then back to Violet for guidance.

Violet made a suggestive gesture with two hands. “Take turns, sweetheart.”

She had to change the angle of her knees so that she was kneeling facing the Impyrs, allowing her to wrap her fingers around both Savagewings. She worked her mouth over Rose’s cocks, getting them slick enough for her hand to move easily before switching back to Violet.

“She’s trying very hard,” Rose observed as she sucked his lower cock again, pumping at the other cock against her cheek the way Violet had suggested.

“She is,” Violet agreed. “You ought to take the rest of your underthings off, darling, otherwise they’re going to get ruined soon.”

Gemma let them go as she caught her breath, wiping her hands off on her bloomers. She pulled her shirt up over her head, folding it carefully and setting it on the floor.

“She’s all pink,” Rose observed with delight. “Look how cute!” He bent down while she was trying to wiggle out of her bloomers, wrapping his arms around her. His lower right hand went between her thighs while he grabbed one of her breasts with the higher one, left hands running through her hair and stroking her jaw. “We match, isn’t that lovely?” He pinched her nipple between dusky pink fingers, another pushing inside of her without warning. She gasped and stopped moving with her bloomers around her knees.

“It is,” Violet agreed. “You’re being impatient.”

“I’m being very patient,” Rose said. “I didn’t fuck her face even a little, despite how funny it would have been to watch her choke on it.”

“You’re so mean,” Violet scolded, getting down on his knees. Rose moved his hands to hold her arms, squeezing one breast and tilting her face back toward his cocks. Violet pulled the last of her clothes off her legs, hands on her ankles and her thighs. He bent to stick his head between her legs, running his tongue from her entrance to her clit. She made a muffled sound with one of Rose’s cocks in her mouth.

“You’re so nice,” Rose teased, hands fully circling her biceps, giving her enough range of motion to awkwardly try to stroke him as she sucked. “What happened to seeing how many she could fit?”

“I haven’t eaten in a while,” Violet said dryly, and Rose laughed as Violet drove his tongue inside her and curled it.

Hadn’t if he ever had, if it counted. It wasn’t for her sake, but for his. Wanted to feel her muscles twitch under his own hands, feel her on his own face, taste her on his own tongue. His own lips, stolen as they were, his antennae brushing against her skin. It wasn’t about her, really. She could have been anyone who looked at him like that, whose wanting was as palpable as that. Wasn’t that what he’d always wanted, even before he was himself? Wasn’t that what they all wanted? To be what other people wanted?

And she had nice eyes.

He sucked at her clit and pushed two fingers inside her, listening to her moan as he worked them deeper. Violet remembered what he-not-him had felt, summoning those sounds out of someone else’s throat, but he’d never felt it, couldn’t make the feeling his. Had not felt it in the twitch of his cock or the shiver in his feathers, the thrum in his veins. Not his, not like this.

Violet licked his fingers as he raised his head, holding her legs apart and pressing the head of his lower cock against her. Rose moved his hands, holding her wrists and cradling her head so that they could both see her face. The flush to her skin went from the tips of her ears down to her breasts. She made high-pitched, panting sounds as Violet’s cock stretched her open, her eyes unfocused.

“I am beginning to think she may not be a spy,” Rose said. “Much too noisy, this one.”

“We can make her noisier,” Violet said, rocking his hips, one cock pumping into her while the other rubbed against her clit.

“That’ll be a neat trick once her mouth is full,” Rose said.

Violet was finally deep enough inside her that he was unlikely to slip back out accidentally as he thrust. He traced the sharp points of his rings over the skin of her breasts, pressed them into her hip. He kissed her throat, caught her mouth but released her in time to hear her cry when he thrust hard.

“Cute,” Rose teased.

«Don’t move,» Violet warned, and Rose’s breath caught. «Let her head go and hold her arms.»

«What if I promise to behave?» Rose asked, though he did as he was told.

«I wouldn’t believe you,» Violet said. «This is what you get for being a brat.» He kissed the corner of Gemma’s mouth, sliding his fingertips along the back of her scalp as he rocked his hips slower. “Stick your tongue out, darling,” he ordered. She did, and he guided her head to lick at Rose’s balls.

«I didn’t know there were going to be consequences,» Rose complained.

Violet ran the flat of his tongue over the head of Rose’s cock, wrapped his lips around it, and pushed it straight into his throat. With his lips at the base of Rose’s shaft, Gemma kissed the corner of Violet’s mouth, and he made a sound of surprise before pulling off.

“What a sweet girl you are,” Violet praised, thrusting hard and enjoying her noisy groan. «I’m going to make you finish first,» Violet warned.

«Oh, come on,» Rose whined.

«If you didn’t want to make a sloppy mess like a bitch, you shouldn’t have acted like one,» Violet said. «I want to watch you cum all over her face like a horny idiot who can’t control himself.»

«I would also like to see that,» Safi said.

«We’re supposed to be ganging up on her,» Rose pouted.

Violet gripped Gemma’s hips with his lower hands to pound into her harder. “What does our pretty little human think of getting fucked by a monster?” he asked.

“Big,” she managed, but barely.

“Flatterer,” Violet purred. “You’re going to be taking much more, soon enough. Tell us how much you like the taste of monster cock, remember we don’t care if you’re lying.”

“I—I—I like it, I do.”

“You want more?”

Yeah.”

“Say please,” Violet said, tilting her head back so that her face was upside-down, still out of reach of Rose’s erection, still slick with saliva and pre-cum.

Please,” she said, and it came out choked when Violet thrust hard enough to make her body bounce. She pulled against Rose’s hands, still holding her arms. “Please, my Lord, I can—ah—I’ll take it.”

“Fuck me, that’s hot,” Rose said.

Violet wrapped his upper right hand around Rose’s cock, used the other hand not on Gemma’s hips to guide her mouth onto the cock he wasn’t stroking. She sucked obediently, though Violet didn’t make her take him to the back of her throat. “You want more, don’t you?” Violet asked. Gemma moaned on Rose’s cock.

“Violet,” Rose pleaded.

«You want to fuck her face?» Violet asked, stroking faster.

«Yeah.»

«Too fucking bad,» Violet said. «You’re lucky I don’t make you stand there and jerk off in her mouth while we watch.»

“Ah,” Rose gasped. “Fuck, fuck.”

“I know,” Violet said, bending to nip at Gemma’s throat. “But no matter how badly she wants to choke on it, you simply must control yourself. Humans need to breathe, after all.”

Gemma shuddered with a groan.

“Don’t worry, dear,” Violet assured her. “With enough practice you’ll have some monster’s balls bouncing on your nose in no time, I’m sure.” He smiled sharp at Rose. «Be a good boy and cum for me, Safi’s going to need your face to keep his cock warm.»

Rose’s wings flared and then beat as he came, thrusting despite Violet’s instructions. Gemma only choked a little, swallowed what she could though it overflowed quickly onto her face. The cock in Violet’s hand twitched at the same time, painting Gemma’s throat and tits silvery-white as Violet laughed.

«You’re so fucking easy,» Violet said, untying the elaborate bows at his waist to slide his top off. «You two should take your clothes off,» he added to the Impyrs, «because I’ll make a mess of you too.» Violet pulled out of Gemma, sliding his arms underneath her. “Give her here, let’s get her off the floor now that you’ve had your fun.” Rose let her arms go as Violet scooped her up. “Careful not to get your mess everywhere,” Violet warned, and Gemma looked a little bit mortified. «Ru, sit back down, you’re going to need a lap for this.»

Rubellite had been taking his clothes off as instructed, and Violet admired the broad span of his back in the moment before he returned to the chair.

They were going to be hell on the upholstery.

“I brought you a pre-sent,” Violet said cheerfully, arranging Gemma so that she straddled Ru’s thighs. She made a high-pitched sound of alarm.

“I don’t think she likes me,” Ru said.

“That’s just the sound she makes when she sees a dick,” Violet said, patting the top of her head. “Isn’t it, dear?”

“It’s got extra bits,” Gemma said weakly.

“Those are the best part,” Violet assured her. “You should hold onto his shoulders.” Violet had to bend his legs a little to get the correct angle, guiding his upper cock inside her this time. She groaned, and he pushed at her hips to bring them lower, until the cock outside of her could press against Ru’s. “That’s better,” Violet said as Ru growled, his tentacles wrapping around Violet’s cock, “like that.”

Gemma cried out as Violet thrust, one cock squeezed tight inside her and the other pressed between her clit and Ru’s cock. Ru grabbed her by the hair and ran his tongue over her cheek, licking shimmering cum from her face, and she shivered. Then Ru kissed her, the taste of Rose still on his tongue, her face dwarfed by the hands holding it. She whimpered into his mouth and Violet gripped her by her hips and her shoulders to pound faster into her.

“Oh,” Rose sighed, draping himself over Safi before he could sit back down. “I’m jealous again.” He kissed Safi’s throat. «Am I supposed to be getting punished, or edging him?» Rose asked.

«It can be both,» Violet said.

«You should take my clothes off,» Rose said, delighted when Safi started untying his belts. «And kiss me,» he added. Rose moved his wings to help Safi get the robe off of them, curling them protectively around them both as Safi kissed him.

Ru was licking at Gemma’s chest now, sucking at her nipples, sharp teeth against her skin. The tentacles wrapped around Violet’s cock rubbed at her clit as Violet thrust, and she came with a scream, her back arching hard. Violet worked to keep his wings under control as he continued thrusting, her muscles all twitching around him.

Violet nuzzled at her hair and purred as she started to relax again, limp enough that he could drive his cock deeper. “I’m going to fill your tight little cunt with inhuman seed you were never meant to take,” he said in her ear, “and you’re going to say ‘please’.”

“Please,” Gemma gasped, “please please please—”

Violet couldn’t help a few beats of his wings with his final thrusts, burying himself to the hilt as he came, filling her and spilling out onto Ru’s stomach and cock. Ru’s tentacles tightened around him at the same time, made it all the more intense as Violet sank his teeth into Gemma’s shoulder. Ru kissed her, swallowed her little whimpering sounds as Violet beat his wings and pumped his cock a few more times. Instinct to claim her as his, not forever but for now.

Rose made a short, trilling sound of indignance, but knew better than to argue the point.

Violet drew his wings in before he released the grip of his jaw, licking the mark his teeth had left in her skin. He caught his breath as he pulled out, running his fingers down her spine.

«I don’t know if seed is accurate,» Rose mused. «We don’t really plant anything, do we?» He was snuggled up in the chair with Safi, wings draped over them both as they watched the others.

«Don’t be a pedant,» Violet said. «It’s the right amount of fucked-up sounding without being gross.» Rose opened his mouth. «You’re about to start listing things,» Violet said, «and they’re going to be gross and kill the mood, so don’t. Safi, shut him up.»

Safi obliged with his tongue as Violet started moving Gemma’s hips again. “Ru’s turn,” Violet said cheerfully, pushing her down onto him.

Oh,” she gasped. “It’s—I don’t think I can—it’s too much.”

“Doesn’t she say the nicest things?” Violet said. “But I did all that work getting her all wet and stretchy, so she’s going to take it fine.” Violet leaned back, two hands on her hips and the other two on her ass so that he could hold her open and watch. Rubellite’s skin was a deep rich pink, and on his cock it was run through with the faint pulsing light of a lesser monster. The smallest hint of what it was that animated them in earnest. Gemma’s pink was a more natural shade, all swollen now from what he’d done to her, shimmering with mingled fluids. Ru’s tentacles were holding her open, too, as she sank further onto him and stretched open wider.

«Rubellite, love, you look positively vulgar,» Violet said, and Ru growled. «I’m going to take her face in a minute, but I want to see you in her ass first.»

One of Ru’s tentacles wrapped around his cock, coated in cum before sliding upward toward Gemma’s ass. Violet could see the way she clenched reflexively when the tentacle pushed against her, and giggled. “Has our pretty little human never taken it up the ass before?” he asked.

“How fun,” Rose said, still snuggled up with Safi, “that we get to have her first.” He’d started idly rubbing his cocks against Safi’s, pleasant but without urgency.

“I can’t,” Gemma insisted.

“You can,” Violet assured her. The tentacle was slick and slender enough to push its way inside her, and Violet watched in fascination the way her muscles relaxed when she gave up resisting. She cried out, louder when the tentacle started to move. “That’s what I want to see, make her take it.” Violet’s hands on her hips lifted her a little so that he could use her to stroke Ru’s cock. “Hear how wet she is?” Violet teased. “She likes it, give her another.”

Another tentacle slowly joined the first, Ru thrusting upward, and Violet gripped her tighter as he watched her stretch open. “That’s how a good human takes it,” he said, finally letting her go to let Ru do as he pleased with her. Ru held her by her waist to bounce her in his lap, and Violet grabbed her by the hair to pull her head sideways. Violet’s cocks were still soaked, as hard as they’d been inside her, and she struggled to lick him clean with Ru fucking her.

Violet used his two right hands to hold her head still and stabilize her so that he could push his cock into her mouth, the head bulging against her cheek. “See how good your cunt tastes when it’s full of monster cum?” he asked, and she groaned. One left hand squeezed one of her breasts while the other pressed his second cock against her bulging cheek. “Make her cum for me, Ru, I want to spoil her.”

Ru’s tentacles rubbed at her clit, found the spot where she’d press against the touch instead of shying away from it. He kept thrusting into her, tentacles winding in and out of her ass and Violet holding her mouth still on his cock. She shook as she came, her scream muffled by Violet’s skin. “Look how pretty,” Violet said, stroking her hair as her whole body went taut and shaky before going near-limp. He thrust a little as a test, and she was worn out enough that he managed a few times before she gagged. He pulled out, and she tried to catch her breath while Ru was still knocking all the air out of her. Violet bent to kiss her, dragging sharp rings along her jaw. “It’s so con-ven-ient,” Violet said, “how making them cum gets humans to go all soft on the inside. I bet you didn’t even know you could fit that much dick in you, did you?”

She made quiet, helpless sounds that might have been in the affirmative.

Violet raised his head to catch Ru’s mouth, and Ru purred in happy surprise as Violet arranged Gemma to rest against his chest. «I love watching you work,» Violet said, wrapping a hand around one of Ru’s horns. «You get your dick in something soft and you’re like a dumb animal ready to fuck it to death.» Ru snarled, baring his teeth. «Yeah, that’s what we like.» Violet growled, flared out his wings until Ru lost the curl to his lip. “Gemma, darling,” Violet said as he tucked his wings back in, “Rubellite here is about to fuck you like he wants to split you in half.”

“Oh,” she said, wide-eyed. “I, I, I thought he already was.”

“I know, sweetheart, that’s why I’m warning you. If you don’t want to fuck your throat up screaming, you’re going to want to hold on tight and bite down right here.” Violet tapped a finger at the spot where Ru’s neck met his shoulder. Gemma wrapped her arms around Ru, wiggling to adjust her position and bring her head to the level of his shoulder.

“Are you sure it’s okay?” she asked Ru. “You’ll like it?”

“Yeah,” Ru said hoarsely. “I won’t hurt you.”

“You’re already hurting her,” Violet reminded him. “She likes it. You like it when he fucks you hard like that?”

“Yeah,” Gemma sighed.

“Ask nice for the big scary monster to fill you up,” Violet said.

“Please,” Gemma said, because that had worked well enough before, “please, my Lord.” Ru gripped her hips and held her down as he thrust hard and fast up into her, tentacles pumping in and out of her ass as he thrust. Gemma did as she’d been told and sank her teeth into his shoulder, getting a snarling growl out of him as he thrust harder. She made low, guttural sounds as she bounced in his lap, biting down harder, her nails scratching at his back. Violet kissed Ru in time to catch the roar that escaped his throat, cock twitching inside her and flooding her with even more silvery-white, spilling onto both their thighs. Gemma whimpered again as she let him go, but Ru held her face to dot it with kisses.

«He always gets so snuggly,» Rose said.

«It’s your turn again next,» Violet warned him. «Clear out of Safi’s lap, I’m going to need that for girl storage.»

«Do I at least get to have her ass this time?» Rose asked, tucking his wings in and sliding off of Safi’s thighs.

«Ob-viously,» Violet said. “Stop hogging the human, let everyone have a turn,” he scolded, lifting her up off of Ru. “You’re getting prettier all the time,” he told her as he carried her to Safi’s chair. She had a sheen of sweat, her skin flush all over, thighs soaked and lips still slick. He set her down on Safi’s thighs, her back to his chest, and her breath caught.

“He’s not going to—?”

“Not yet,” Violet said, tapping the tip of her nose with one finger. “We’re saving the best for last.” She shook her head mutely. “I know, baby,” he said sympathetically. “We’re working your way up to it, love, don’t worry.” Rose moved between her legs, standing between Safi’s knees at the same time as he spread her thighs apart. “You didn’t think it would fit before, did you, and listen to how much you loved having a big fat cock inside you.” Rose thrust his lower cock into her, and she tried to cover her face in embarrassment at the sound it made from all the mingled fluids still inside her. “Oh no,” Violet warned, pulling one wrist down while Rose grabbed another. “Let’s see that pretty face while you hear what a well-fucked pussy sounds like, sweetheart.”

Her face was turning scarlet as beneath her Safi kissed her shoulder, reaching around to toy with her breasts.

“I know Ru already got her ready for me,” Rose said, holding her jaw as he pulled out of her, “but I want to see what she looks like the first time she has a cock in her ass.” The slick head of his cock pressed against her, and after tentacles had stretched her out she offered little resistance as he pushed one cock into her ass and another into her cunt at the same time. She cried out and tried to squirm, but there were too many hands on her, holding her down as Rose buried himself inside her. Rose kissed at the tears that threatened to fall from her eyelashes. “There’s a pretty girl,” he said, rocking his hips. He rubbed at her clit with one of his thumbs, and she gasped. “That’s better, isn’t it?” he said, and she nodded. “You wouldn’t think it would be such a tight fit, considering what Ru did to her, but she’s still so small.”

“That’s what makes pussy so fun,” Violet said, petting her hair. “You have to be careful with them, that’s all. Ru, I don’t think she’s cleaned up her mess yet.”

Ru moved to the other side of the chair, gripping the base of his cock so that his tentacles would wrap around his hand and stay out of her face. Violet pushed her head toward Ru’s cock, and Gemma licked at it before opening it wide enough to take at least some into her mouth. Violet held her down there, giggling when she let out a nervous whimper.

“She’s so pretty when she’s full,” Violet said. “Harder, loves, I want to hear her.”

Rose started to move in long strokes, pulling half out before thrusting back in, while Safi pinched and tugged at her nipples. Her scream was muffled by Ru’s cock in her mouth, Rose and Violet still holding her wrists and her legs.

“You’re beautiful, darling,” Violet said.

“Never prettier,” Rose agreed. “Do you think I can make her cum again?”

“It cannot possibly be difficult,” Violet said. Ru rocked his hips a little, shallow thrusts into her mouth, only enough to add a bouncy sound to it as she moaned onto him. “Oh, that’s a fun sound, I like that.” Ru pulled out so that she could gasp for air before Violet pushed her back onto him. “I think she’s gotten better at it already, don’t you?”

“Significant improvement,” Rose agreed, rubbing at her clit. “Soon enough I’ll have filled her from both ends, there won’t be any part of her insides I haven’t painted.”

“I’m sure you’re very proud of yourself,” Violet said.

“Always,” Rose said, fluttering his wings. «I want to claim her,» he admitted, though Violet had already done it.

«Too fucking bad,» Violet said.

«I know,» Rose said. «But I want to.» He flexed his wings, thrust hard into her and rubbed hard at her clit until she made a high-pitched sound on Ru’s cock. Violet kept holding her head still and her jaw open as her legs twitched and she tightened around Rose. The head of Ru’s cock moving in and out of her mouth made her rapidly alternate between noisy and muffled. Rose’s hips slammed into her, wings flaring, teeth bared. Violet let her head go to shove his hand over Rose’s mouth, and Rose immediately bit him. Ru pulled out of her mouth so that she could relax back into Safi, who patted her stomach affectionately.

«Don’t test me,» Violet warned, as Rose’s teeth let him go.

«I can’t help it,» Rose complained, his wings in a high arch and his feathers all puffed.

Violet let Gemma go entirely to move around Rose, wrapping two arms around him from behind to pin his wings down. Rose tried to elbow him, but Violet grabbed one of his antennae and bit down on his shoulder. Rose stilled, and when Violet stroked his antenna he shuddered. Rose’s hips rocked gentler than before as Violet bit down harder, Violet’s wings beating once as Rose’s were held still. Rose’s breath came in gasps as he moved faster, gripped Gemma’s hips tighter, and when Violet trilled against his skin he buried himself deep and came with a small cry. Gemma mewled and squirmed as he filled her, Violet letting him go so that his wings could relax.

“Ready for your turn?” Violet asked Safi, who was still toying with her breasts. He nodded. Rose had recovered enough of his senses to hook his hands under her knees, lifting them high and apart so that he could see what he was doing as he lifted her off his cocks. She groaned as he pulled out of her, crying out when he immediately lowered her ass onto Safi’s eager erection. Violet rested his head on Rose’s shoulder so he could watch gravity pull her down, Rose’s cum dripping down Safi’s thick blue cock and getting caught by his tentacles. The light of him made it sparkle. “I told you it would fit,” Violet said, trading places with Rose and letting her legs fall around his hips.

“Again?” she asked him weakly.

“Mm-hmm,” Violet said, tapping the tip of her nose. “It was so much fun the first time, after all.” He bent low between her legs, giving her a long lick that dipped inside of her and filled his mouth with the taste of Gemma and Ru and Rose all at once. Then he caught her mouth with his, cupping her face to kiss her, his tongue stroking hers as she moaned. “Thank Rose for making you taste so good,” he ordered.

“Thank you,” she managed, her voice tiny and strained.

“That’s so fucking cute,” Rose said.

«Go wash your dick off so you don’t make her sick,» Violet said. «Take Ru with you while you’re at it, he had his tentacles in her ass.»

«Oh hell, I always forget about that,» Rose said, grabbing Ru by the arm to pull him toward the washroom. «Humans get sick too easy, they should do something about that.»

«I’m sure they’ll get right on it once you point it out,» Violet said. He kissed Gemma again, swallowed the sound she made when his lower cock slid back inside her. Wet and soft and hot, and when Safi moved his hips Violet could feel it, the stretch of her body against him.

“You feel even better,” Violet said, “now that you’ve got a nice big dick in your ass.” She squeaked and turned her head as if she might bury her face in Safi’s neck. Safi kissed her forehead. Violet kissed her carotid, grinding one of his cocks against her swollen clit and making her squirm.

“Good girl,” Safi growled in her hair as he thrust upward, making her bounce in his lap. She groaned loud as Violet alternated his strokes with Safi’s, something sliding in or out of her at all times.

“What a terrible thing we’ve done to this poor little human,” Violet mused. “We’ve fucked her much too well, we’ve spoiled her for humans now.” Safi purred as Violet grabbed her by the hair. “Haven’t we, sweetheart?”

“Ye—ah.”

“You want a nice little human to be sweet to you?” he pressed.

No.”

“You want the terrible monsters to fill you up like a cumrag?”

Yeah.”

“Rose, you’re back just in time, come make her pretty for Safi.”

Rose wasn’t hard anymore, but he guided Gemma’s head sideways to get her mouth onto him. She sucked each of his cocks in turn, though not particularly well, too easily distracted by the others still inside her. It was enough to get Rose hard again, resting one cock in her mouth and another on her cheek the way Violet had done earlier.

Fuck,” Safi groaned.

“That’s better,” Violet said. “Look at the pretty girl, Safi, look what she lets us do to her. Make her scream for me, I want to see if you can jerk me off using nothing but your dick inside her.” Violet gripped her hips tight, held her still as Safi started to pound rapidly upward. Gemma made a high-pitched keening sound, and Violet allowed himself a twitch of his wings at the feeling. Pressure and friction, Safi’s cock stroking his through the thin barrier of her insides, seeming impossible that she could bear it when everything about her was so fragile.

Safi came deep inside her with a roar through his teeth, and Rose pulled out of her mouth so that they could hear her ragged groan.

“You’ve definitely spoiled her, Safi,” Violet said, pulling her upright to rest against Safi’s chest again. Rose kissed Safi as Violet rocked his hips. Violet kissed her throat, then the shoulder still free of the mark of his teeth. «No one else touch her for a minute,» Violet warned, though it was impossible to avoid when she was still impaled on Safi’s cock.

Violet held her hips with two hands, wrapped the others around her to hold her body against his. He thrust harder and sank his teeth into her shoulder. She cried out and wriggled against his hold, and his wings flared out with a growl against her skin. When she went limp and whimpering he started driving into her in long strokes, wings beating with each thrust. She reached up to hold onto him, fingers digging into his skin. He came inside of her and over her stomach, waiting until he’d nearly finished before giving a few more thrusts for good measure. He pulled away enough to admire the matched bites on either side of her, the minuscule puncture wounds his fangs had left the second time.

«Greedy,» Rose accused.

«Jealous,» Violet shot back, and he didn’t mean of him. «Last call for kisses,» he warned, bringing her knuckles to his mouth. Rose and Safi and Ru all started dotting quick kisses to whichever parts of her they could reach, until she descended into giggles. “Let’s let her up now, come on,” Violet said, moving to scoop her up and lift her off of Safi. She gasped and tried to press her thighs together as he carried her. “Do your legs work?” he asked her.

“I don’t know,” she admitted.

“I’m asking if you can use the lavatory yourself, or if I need to help you,” he clarified.

“I’m fine,” she said immediately, horrified by the prospect of the alternative. “I can wait, actually.”

“My understanding of human anatomy suggests that you cannot.” He opened the door for her and set her down gently, hands still on her in case she toppled over. She wobbled and took shaky steps. “Take as long as you need,” he said cheerfully. “We’ll be running lots of water and being very noisy out here.” He waved as she shut the lavatory door.

He returned when the door finally opened again. “Feeling okay?” he asked. “Nothing broken?”

“I don’t think so,” she said, squeaking as he scooped her back up.

Ex-cellent,” he said. “Then it’s time for the best part.”

“It isn’t done?” she asked with more than a little terror.

“Not at all,” Violet said, carrying her into the washroom. He lowered her into the enormous tub full of steaming water, and she uncurled slowly and with great caution. “Better?” he asked, and she nodded mutely. “Good.” He patted the top of her head.

He ran soapy fingers gently over her shoulders, where the marks of his teeth were rapidly blossoming into bruises.

“Am I correct, pretty girl, that you were sneaking around hoping to get a better look at us?” Violet asked.

Gemma lowered her eyes to the water, rubbing at the shimmer on her thighs. “I’ve never seen monsters like you before,” she mumbled.

“Of course you would want to,” Violet assured her. “We’re v-er-y attractive, aren’t we?”

“Very much, my Lord,” she agreed.

“I didn’t really think you were a spy,” Violet said, using his fingertips to untangle her hair. “I only wanted to get your clothes off. Are you upset with me for lying?”

“No,” she said. “I assumed that was what was happening.”

“Good girl,” he said, coaxing her head back so that he could wash her hair. “As long as you aren’t already spying for anyone,” he asked, “how would you like a job?”

Astielle: Chapter Twenty-Nine

“I have outfits,” Minnow announced.

“What?” Leonas said. They’d made camp alongside the rest of the caravan train, all in a circle in a field. Nari had helpfully told Karzarul which wagon held their saddlebags, as they required intermittent contact to keep the moonlight solid. Karzarul had spent most of his time since they’d stopped as a Howler. There were too many people around to feel comfortable otherwise. He did not have Leonas’ enviable ability to ignore when he was being stared at. A Howler was still stared at but didn’t feel as seen.

“There’s a guy who does costumes,” Minnow explained. Her arms were ominously overflowing with fabric. “He modified some so we can have outfits,” she said.

“Did you pay him, or put it on Kavid’s tab?” Leonas asked.

“I gave him some opals,” she said.

“Where did you get opals?”

“Found ’em.”

“Where?”

“Around. Try this on so we can make sure it fits.”

Karzarul shifted into Impyr form and lifted the pile of fabric out of her arms. “Oh.”

Minnow looked down at herself. “Yeah, he fixed one of the dancer’s dresses for me,” she said. It was low in the chest and high at the thigh, dark blue with ruffles down to the ground. Her shoulders were bare, the sleeves ruffled to match the skirt. She was barefoot, her hair loose, and wearing the Starsword sheathed on her back. “Is it good?”

“Good,” Karzarul said, staring.

“It does the thing,” she said.

“Which thing?”

She backed up to put some space between them and then twirled so that the skirt would flare up around her legs. “The thing!” she said, bouncing on her toes.

“I like the thing,” Karzarul said, and Minnow beamed. He looked around them. “Where should I change?”

She looked around also as if noticing for the first time that people were present and capable of noticing sudden nudity. “Right,” she said. “Kavid’s not in his caravan right now, maybe use that? He won’t mind.”

Karzarul looked to where Leonas was sitting. “Are you coming?”

“I’ll go when you’re done.”

Karzarul was going to say that he’d seen it before, but he supposed he hadn’t. Leonas had managed to stay remarkably dressed regardless of circumstances. It was going to bother him, now that he’d noticed. Was it a coincidence that they’d only ever done things that Leonas could keep his pants on for?

Karzarul’s dress was the same dark blue fabric as Minnow’s, a touch tighter around the chest than he would have considered ideal. Minnow was delighted. The skirt didn’t quite reach his knees, his back bare underneath the laces tied up the back of the dress.

“It does the thing!” Minnow informed him. Karzarul spun experimentally, and Minnow clapped as the dress flared around his thighs.

“I see you’re marking your territory again,” Karzarul said.

“Yeah,” she agreed. “I want everyone to be able to tell you’re mine.”

“Ah,” he said, though it sent a frisson down his spine.

“Dark blue again,” Leonas observed, coming up from behind Karzarul. Minnow started to giggle. She’d managed to find him an outfit involving tall boots and tight pants and a tight-laced vest. The shirt beneath was black and frilly. “Please tell me this didn’t used to be Kavid’s.” Minnow continued giggling. Leonas looked over Karzarul’s outfit, eyes stopping at the hem of his skirt.

“Disappointed?” Karzarul asked. His usual skirt showed off more of his legs, not to mention his hips.

“It’s an interesting contrast,” Leonas said absently, eyes still lowered. “The colors.” His fingers twitched, and he pulled his gaze away. “I don’t think we’re going to be in such high demand that you need to mark us,” Leonas said.

“It isn’t like that,” Minnow said, coming closer. “May I?” Leonas shrugged. Minnow ran her fingers over the laces of his vest. “You can still play with other people, if you want to,” she said. “They’re not the ones who get to keep you, is all. And if we’re going to be around people, I want to be sure they know that if they hurt you I’ll kill them.”

“That isn’t necessary,” Leonas asked.

“I know,” Minnow said, patting his chest. “It’s not for your benefit. It’s for theirs.”

Minnow insisted that they sit around the main campfire, finding herself a spot right next to Kavid. Kavid was dressed in some kind of multi-colored knit romper with long legs and sleeves disconnected from the body of the suit. The orange hair on top of his head had been fluffed up enough to disguise the damage done to discolor it, and underneath it fell long and black to his shoulders. Instead of doing his makeup properly, he’d given himself a glitter mask around his eyes.

Karzarul had a certain amount of difficulty figuring out how to sit in so short a dress. He finally settled for kneeling in the grass, tail twisting anxiously behind him. Leonas knelt down beside him.

“You are looking quite stylish,” Kavid said.

“Yes,” Minnow agreed.

“Zaros made stew for dinner,” Kavid said. “Lots of spices, good with rice. You want some, yes?”

“Yes,” Minnow said before Leonas could speak.

“I don’t need any,” Karzarul said, and Minnow frowned. “Humans need to eat. I don’t.”

“I’ve seen you eat,” Minnow said.

“Recreationally,” Karzarul said. “I’m fine if I don’t. I’m not taking food from people who need it.”

“You think we are bad hosts?” Kavid asked. “That we cannot show you a good time? Of course we will feed you.” Kavid snapped his fingers in the air. “Nari! Bring food for our guests.”

“We can get our own,” Leonas muttered.

Nari.” Kavid snapped more insistently until Nari made a rude gesture, which he took as confirmation that the message had been received. “Do not trouble yourselves, you will be fed shortly.”

“Does Costa still make those donut things?” Minnow asked.

“For you, Starlight?” Kavid said. “Of course. And for everyone else, also. We drink, they are fried, she cannot stop making the donuts. There would be a riot.”

“We’ll get you some of those later,” Minnow said to Leonas.

“You don’t need to feed me,” Leonas said.

Minnow patted Karzarul’s knee, and so Karzarul patted Leonas’. Leonas scowled. Nari brought her carefully balanced bowls, giving one first to Kavid and then handing them out down the line.

“Thank you,” Karzarul said. Nari made a flustered sound of acknowledgment, clutching the pendant around her neck.

“Thank you,” Leonas said, holding the bowl above his knees so that he could bow his head. Nari tried to bow while squeaking incoherently, then fled. “She seems nice,” Leonas said.

“She is not,” Kavid said. “Do not let her fool you. One day she is all sweetness, the next she is yelling about dishes and throwing you into rivers.”

Their bowls were split into rice on one side and stew on the other. Leonas carefully dipped a spoonful of rice into a small amount of stew before tasting it.

“Is good, yes?” Kavid asked. Minnow had already mixed her entire bowl into a uniform slurry to consume at top speed. Someone on the other side of the camp had set up stakes for a game of horseshoes, and here and there a cheer would go up as someone managed to throw a ringer.

“Yes, thank you,” Leonas said automatically.

Karzarul bent his head down sideways to speak softly into Leonas’ ear. “If it’s too much for you,” Karzarul said, “you can have my rice. If you want.”

Leonas shook his head. “It’s good,” he said. “I’m not allergic. I don’t usually, that’s all.”

“Is the story,” Kavid asked, “that Starlight seduced the Monster King?”

“No,” Minnow said.

“She didn’t have to,” Karzarul said.

“So you seduced her,” Kavid said.

“I don’t think so,” Karzarul said. “Maybe.”

“You have been enemies eternal,” Kavid pressed.

“Not always,” Karzarul said.

“Ah!” Kavid said, brightening, pointing with his spoon. “That is a different story. You were friends, once. A great tragedy, you and the First Hero, friends before it all went wrong.”

“Not the first,” Karzarul said. “He was…” Karzarul stared at the fire. “Friendship is a kind of love,” he said. “It’s a thing you show, not a thing you say. I considered myself his friend. The feeling was not mutual.”

Minnow leaned against Karzarul’s arm. Kavid hummed. “I can work with that,” he said. Someone passed him a wineskin, and he poured some into his mouth before handing it off to Minnow to do the same. Karzarul passed it straight to Leonas without drinking. Leonas scowled at the wineskin as he struggled to determine the best way to drink without a glass. He gave up, eyes glowing as he made himself a glass out of sunlight, pouring wine into it and handing the skin back to Karzarul. Karzarul’s reach was long enough to pass it along on Leonas’ behalf.

“That is,” Kavid said, “unsettling.”

Leonas shrugged, sipping at his wine.

“He does not need to cast?” Kavid asked Karzarul, having decided that he was the most social of the three. “No wielding of his instrument? He waves his fingers, his will is done?”

“He is an Heir,” Karzarul said. “His magic is sunlight, shining as no other witch can. He bound it to an instrument to which his soul was already tied. So long as his light can reach his shield, he is not constrained as other witches are. His limitations are his own capacity for magic, and whatever the physical world can bear to contain.”

“Terrifying!” Kavid said.

“Yes,” Karzarul agreed. Leonas regarded Karzarul with suspicion. Someone around the fire started to pick at a guitar but did not play a song. Karzarul listened carefully.

“Will you dance with me, later?” Minnow asked. “You couldn’t before.”

Karzarul looked at his empty bowl. “Maybe,” he said.

“Does the Monster King dance?” Kavid asked.

“Beautifully,” Leonas said. Karzarul glowed faintly.

“You’ve seen?” Minnow asked, wrapping her arms around Karzarul’s bicep. “I’m jealous.” She pouted, and Karzarul kissed her forehead.

“I’ll dance with you,” he said.

Kavid hummed. Then he tossed his bowl aside and stood, heading for a caravan. “Devin,” Kavid snapped. “Now is not the time for your practicing. Give the guitar to Alia. Strangle a tone-deaf cat, if you must, it will sound better.” He returned to Minnow’s side with his lyre, and Minnow clapped with excitement. “I will not sing,” Kavid warned, playing a quick scale. “My voice needs rest. But my fingers, they work always.” He waggled his eyebrows as he started to play, and Minnow giggled.

Minnow leaned against Karzarul’s arm again but didn’t pressure him to get up as Kavid played. The pace of the song quickened as the guitar joined in. It was not a song Karzarul knew, but Minnow must have since he could hear her humming along. A woman on the other side of the fire started drumming on a box between her knees. Karzarul could taste his own pulse, his tail thrashing behind him. Leonas patted Karzarul’s knee.

One of the dancers, in a dress much like Minnow’s, set a heavy board on the grass to act as a small stage. Other members of the troupe, though not all, started to clap out a beat. Minnow joined them, but Karzarul kept his hands still save for the tapping of one finger. The dancer stepped onto the board to cheers and started to drum a rapid-fire beat with the heels of her shoes. Her hips moved as she danced, the cut of her skirt letting it flare and show off the motion of her legs when she twirled. Unlike Minnow, her dress was layered in green and white, and when she moved she looked like waves frothing with seafoam.

“I can’t dance that well,” Minnow said to Karzarul.

“I’m sure you’re beautiful,” Karzarul said. He was watching the dancer intently, tracking the beat and the motion of her feet and how she held her arms. When she stepped down she joined the clapping, another dancer replacing her, replicating what the first dancer had done before making it her own. Her dress was blue and orange, looked like a candle flame in a storm. A third dancer in grey and white looked like a thunderstorm, repeated the pattern of replication and elaboration before ceding the stage back to the first dancer.

Karzarul had started to drum on his thighs with his hands.

“You want to play?” Minnow asked him. Karzarul stopped drumming.

“I wouldn’t want to interrupt,” Karzarul demurred.

“You should,” Leonas said. “You’d be good at it.”

“We’re guests,” Karzarul said. “I don’t want to be rude.”

Minnow stood and approached one of the dancers waiting for her turn. She gestured to Karzarul as she spoke. Karzarul did not think he could get away with turning into a Howler. The dancer in green held her hem up out of the grass as she approached Karzarul.

“You want to try?” she asked.

“I wouldn’t know how,” Karzarul apologized.

“We can show you,” she assured him, holding out her hands to help him up. Minnow clapped as Karzarul rose up onto his hooves. “You like to dance?” the woman asked.

“Sometimes,” Karzarul said.

“Here,” she said. “Copy me this first time.” Karzarul waited as she took to the little stage, drumming out a short beat with slower steps than before. Then she stepped aside, waving him closer to encourage him.

Karzarul tried not to think about humans watching, thought about Jonys, tried not to think about Jonys. Thought of Minnow, because a show for Minnow felt like something he could do. If he thought of it as trying to play along with strangers it was almost mortifying. But trying to impress the Hero, that was second nature. Made it easy to drum his hooves and roll them just-so, summon an overskirt made of moonlight that he could twirl. The dancers cheered before he could lose himself in it completely, and so he stepped aside to let another one take her turn.

They did not slow down for him this time, danced in earnest while he joined in clapping the beat. When his turn came around again, he could not resist the temptation to luxuriate in it. He tapped out a more complicated beat with his hooves, twitched his hips, shook his hair to make his bells ring. Rolled his hips gratuitously when the sound of bells reminded him of Leonas, slender fingers and sunlight chains. Someone whistled, and the strings hit a crescendo, and with a final twirl and a stomp all the music seemed to dissipate into happy noise.

He was startled when Minnow pounced on him, arms over his shoulders and legs hanging in the air so she could press a kiss to his mouth. “Mine,” she whispered, and he purred. He wrapped his arm around her waist as a different tune started, and twirled with her in the grass so that both their skirts would fly. She was difficult to keep up with once she started dancing, quick steps on tiptoe and all around him like a maypole. Fairy steps, wind and shadow and pounding rain. It made his hooves feel too big and too heavy, though she crushed the grass as much as he did. The sun had dipped behind the horizon, and firelight reflected from her eyes like twin mirrors.

“Leonas,” Minnow called suddenly, stopping and reaching her arms toward him. “Come show me fancy dances.”

Before Leonas could argue, Kavid switched his song to something more suitable for a ballroom. Leonas glowered at him, and Kavid grinned as all the other players followed his lead. Someone had begun to play pipes. Leonas pulled himself up to his feet to join them amidst the other dancers, only some of whom were bothering to follow the steps.

“You put your hand here,” Leonas said, lifting her right hand to his shoulder before placing his hand on her waist. “We hold the other ones.” Instead of clasping her hand, he laced his fingers with hers. She didn’t notice the difference. “It’s a box,” he said. “Forward, right, back, left. Right?”

“Back left right?”

“Wrong.”

She pouted.

“Here,” he said. “I’m going to put my left foot forward, you’re going to put your right foot back.”

Karzarul watched as Leonas painstakingly walked Minnow through the steps, which did not come naturally to her at all. If she’d been wearing shoes, her tendency to step on him may have been a problem. It took all of five minutes for him to give up, his eyes flaring as sunlight slippers appeared on her feet.

“Oh,” she said as the shoes moved for her. “This is much easier,” she decided.

“Yes,” Leonas agreed, finally able to move from the small patch of grass to move her along in sweeping arcs.

“You used to dance a lot,” she said. “On your birthday.”

“I did,” he agreed.

“Like this?” she asked.

“On my birthday,” he said, “an orchestra plays a song the composer spent a year writing just for me, and I waltz between great marble fountains with the prettiest and richest women in all Astielle.”

“Oh,” she said. “But you can’t.”

“Can’t I?”

“I’m never there,” she reminded him.

“You are the prettiest,” he conceded.

“And the richest,” she added.

“Horrifyingly so,” he agreed. “Every nobleman there would be vying for your hand.”

“Really?”

“I’d have them all beheaded,” he said, his eyes still suns beneath his eyelids, featureless light that made his witchmarks look dim.

“Jealous,” she accused.

“No,” he said. “The beheadings would be unrelated. Someone’s been committing tax fraud, if we’re going to frame anyone it may as well be a Duke. They’d give up on you soon enough, anyway.”

“Even though I’m the prettiest?”

“You’re also the sharpest,” he reminded her. “And bitiest. And most obnoxious. And you come with a monster attached, which most people find off-putting.”

“But you like me anyway,” she said. She couldn’t meet his eyes when they glowed like that, looked at his lips instead.

“You may as well say I like a tourniquet,” he said. “You’re annoying, you’re inconvenient, you’re uncomfortable. I’d die without you.”

“Oh,” she sighed. “Don’t say that. That’s too big.”

He caught her mouth in a kiss, hungry and hot. “It’s not poetic,” he said. “Look at me. I can barely carry my own purse. If I’m going to survive outside a castle I need someone to carry my things.”

She giggled. “Karzarul can carry us both,” she reminded him.

“I suppose there’s that,” Leonas conceded. Then he smiled in a sly way she wasn’t used to. “I didn’t think it would work,” he said.

“What?”

He looked down, and she followed his gaze to realize they’d been dancing on nothing. Spots of light glowing in the dark, pooling underneath their feet like a spilled sunbeam that the night forgot to swallow. The glow touched the grass far down beneath their feet.

“This way we can’t trip on anything!” she said, delighted by the practicality.

“Shh,” he said. “It’s romantic.” He stopped dancing to cup her face, and she had to shut her eyes.

“You’re too bright,” she said, and though she didn’t feel them descend she soon felt the grass on her bare feet. She opened her eyes to admire the blue of his for the moment he gave her before kissing her again.

Karzarul could have kept dancing without them, but he’d wanted to watch them instead. They suited each other, the sizes and colors of them. Karzarul didn’t think he had a shape that would fit the way they did. Look right, the way they looked right. It pulled at something in his chest. It eased when they sought him back out.

“I’m going to be right back,” Minnow said, leaving them both to head toward the caravans. Karzarul and Leonas listened to the music as they tracked her movement.

“Did you want to dance?” Leonas asked tentatively.

“I would step on your toes,” Karzarul said.

“No you won’t,” Leonas said. Leonas offered his hand, but hesitated when Karzarul took it. “Ordinarily,” Leonas said, “the taller person leads.”

“Do you want me to lead?” Karzarul asked.

“No.”

“I don’t mind following.”

Leonas set his hand at Karzarul’s waist, and Karzarul set his hand on Leonas’ shoulder, careful of the Sunshield. Leonas swallowed, eyes hanging on Karzarul’s hand. The size and the weight of it on his shoulder, the sensation both familiar and not. His fingers laced with Karzarul’s, gripping it tight. Karzarul let him and didn’t squeeze back. Finally, Leonas started to move, and Karzarul mirrored his steps. Leonas had to tilt his face upward, but his back looked remarkably straight despite that.

“You’re better at being led than she is,” Leonas said.

“I know,” Karzarul said.

“You’re beautiful,” Leonas said, but it didn’t feel the same when he’d been trying. “You should dance for me someday.”

“I thought I did.”

“I assumed it was for Minnow.”

“It can be both,” Karzarul said. “The bells were for you.”

“Ah,” Leonas said.

“Did they sound like dying?” Karzarul asked.

“No.”

“Ah.” Karzarul glowed.

“Your dress,” Leonas said, “has been driving me insane.”

“Has it?”

“That color,” he explained, “in that length makes your legs a marvel.”

“I haven’t seen yours,” Karzarul said.

“There isn’t much to see,” Leonas said. “It isn’t you.”

“Okay.”

“You’ll have to be patient with me.”

“I can be patient,” Karzarul said.

“Do you know,” Leonas said, “if I had known this was an option, I might have dreamed of this.”

“Instead of dying?”

“In addition to.”

“Oh.”

“I’m very stupid,” Leonas said.

“Is it?” Karzarul asked.

“Wanting you,” Leonas said, “is, based on all available evidence, objectively and factually the dumbest fucking thing I’ve ever done.” He spun them both around, eyes and hands aglow as he swung Karzarul backward into a dip to kiss him. Karzarul made a surprised sound into his mouth, purred onto his tongue.

“I understand the appeal now,” Karzarul said breathlessly.

“Good,” Leonas said, “because I’m using a great deal of magic and I still might throw my back out.” He pulled them both back up to standing, and Karzarul had to catch him before he fell.

“I brought donut things!” Minnow announced. She stuck one in her mouth, gave one to Karzarul, and then gave a stack of them wrapped in paper to Leonas. Leonas needed to use both hands to hold them all, still leaning against Karzarul.

“This is too many,” Leonas said, suspiciously regarding a fried puff of dough and its coating of cinnamon sugar.

Minnow pulled the donut out of her mouth and swallowed her bite without chewing. “I watched you eat so many churros,” she reminded him.

Leonas’ witchmarks flared. “Those were tests,” he muttered. “That doesn’t count.”

“Test how many donuts you can eat.”

“These are really good,” Karzarul said.

“Costa does a good job,” Minnow agreed.

Leonas licked his fingers before grabbing another one out of his paper. “They’re mostly air, anyway.”

“They barely count,” Minnow said.

Karzarul tried to grab another, but Leonas turned his body sideways to keep them out of reach.


They stayed with the caravans the next morning, riding alongside them for a lack of anywhere else to be. There were things they could do, but Minnow was in no hurry yet, and no one was interested in rushing her.

She had, since they joined the caravan, found two more fallen stars.

“You’d think I would already have all the flowers around here,” she said, on her hands and knees by the side of the road, “but they all bloom in different seasons and some of them are hard to find.” She managed to pluck a satisfactory example of the one she’d been looking for, digging out her book to tuck it between the pages.

“I’m surprised that didn’t get left behind,” Leonas said from where he and Karzarul were both waiting. He gestured to her book of flora.

“It did,” she said. “I went back for it.”

“What?” Leonas said. “When?”

“Earlier,” she said vaguely. “You were washing your hair or pooping or something, I don’t know.”

“You’re a fugitive,” Leonas reminded her. “What if you’d been captured?”

“I wouldn’t,” Minnow said. “I told you, no one goes over there. I took the watchtower Door and then ran, it was fine.”

“That’s not fine,” Leonas snapped.

“I had Ari in my pocket,” she added. Leonas looked accusingly at Karzarul, who shrugged. “I wasn’t gonna leave my glider out there forever. You can go lots of places people want you dead, if you use a Door and run fast.”

“Great,” Leonas said, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “Please don’t do that again without telling me.”

“If I told you, you’d worry,” she said.

“Minona,” he warned, and she pouted.

“Fine,” she said, without pretending to be happy about it. They looked down the road, to where the long line of caravans and wagons had come to a halt. Figures were moving about with more speed and less noise than they were used to. “I wonder if Kavid lost a shoe again.”

Leonas made a sound of disgust, not improved when it became clear that the figure moving toward them was Kavid. He was wearing some manner of long-legged jumpsuit, baggy enough around the legs to look like a dress.

“Starlight,” Kavid called with a hint of panic. He did not run but walked much more quickly than usual. “I need you, darling,” he said. “You two will need to hide,” he added, waving at Leonas and Karzarul. “There is no disguising you, too shiny.”

“What’s going on?” Leonas asked. Karzarul put a hand on Leonas’ shoulder and shifted to a Slitherskin around his neck.

“There are Astian soldiers at the crossroads ahead,” Kavid said. “I am unclear of what has happened, there is much confusion. They are taking Nari, it seems like? If Valeria could intervene, it would be appreciated.”

“I’m on it,” she said. She ran ahead toward the caravans, hopping into one of them without knocking.

“Who is Valeria?” Leonas asked, jogging after her.

“You have not met her?” Kavid asked, following. “You must play different games.”

“What?”

“It’s difficult to explain,” Kavid said, “if you have not met her.”

Minnow burst back out of the caravan. She had managed to fit the majority of her hair under a flat cap, nothing peeking out of it but strands of brown with ends so split it created a passable illusion of short hair. Leonas had not known that it was possible to tousle one’s eyebrows, but she’d done so, and it had a remarkable effect on the overall structure of her face—particularly when she had them furrowed more deeply than he’d ever seen, her jaw jutting forward. She’d changed into a button-down shirt and a pair of heavy work pants cut off at the knees, which conspired with her boots to make her look even shorter than usual. Her fingerless gloves were battered and threadbare. Instead of the Starsword, she was holding a clipboard, a ring of keys hooked to her belt.

“We’re saved,” Kavid said with no hint of irony whatsoever.

“Shut up,” Minnow snapped, stalking toward the crossroads.

“Here,” Kavid said, gesturing to the caravan she’d come out of. “You, hide in a box or something.”

Leonas entered the caravan only long enough to find a mirror. As light was necessary to see, he thought he ought to be able to make light ignore him. He focused, and his whole body flared bright before disappearing from the mirror.

“If this only works in the mirror I’m about to make an ass of myself,” Leonas warned Karzarul, heading back outside. He circled around to the other side of the wagons, feeling as if this ought to make a difference. By the time he caught up, Minnow was already at the crossroads. That no one saw him before he ducked behind the first caravan felt like a good sign.

“It’s a necklace,” Minnow was saying, in a voice lower and more nasal than he’d ever heard from her.

“It’s a moonstone pendant,” one of the soldiers corrected. Leonas thought he looked like a child sitting on the shoulders of another child hiding in his armor. He thought that about most soldiers. He was surprised in retrospect that anyone had kicked up a fuss about Minnow when their fighting forces were comprised mostly of tall children with drinking problems. “Moon worship is heretical and constitutes treason against the crown of Astielle.”

“I’m not a traitor,” Nari said, offended. “I’m an artist.”

“Kid, are you new?” Minnow asked.

“Ma’am, I am a captain in the King’s army.”

“Great, good for you, I’m sure your mother’s very proud,” Minnow said. “I’m asking if you’re new.”

“Ma’am—”

“Don’t take that tone with me,” Minnow warned. “I’ll have your commission so fast it’ll make your head spin, you wouldn’t be the first and you won’t be the last. You think General Xalter’s gonna appreciate your initiative? Fuck no. That’s how I can tell you’re new, you’re still going by the book.”

“The book is the law.”

“Laws are for managing people.” Minnow gestured around them with her clipboard. “You see a lot of people? You’re way out in bumfuck nowhere. They gave you the easy job sending you out here, you’re not supposed to go hauling in the first person you see for high crimes.”

“Corpse-bothering doesn’t become legal in the woods,” the Captain said.

“Lots of folks like keeping moon trinkets out in the boonies,” Minnow said. “It’s harmless superstition, nobody means anything by it, least of all heresy. You wanna try arresting her, be my guest. You’re gonna have yourself a big mess of paperwork, and in the end you’re gonna have to let her go because a pretty necklace don’t mean shit. You think I mentioned Xalter because we’re friends? No. He hates me. I make him do his job. My job is to get this troupe to the show on time, you make me late and I make it his problem, I guarantee he makes it your problem. That’s not a threat, that’s some friendly advice from an old bitch who’s seen a lot of kids fuck themselves being too zealous. They talk a big game in training teaching you how to spot secret weirdos, but take it from me, the weirdos ain’t subtle. You’ll know. It’s fine.”

The looming specter of bureaucracy had taken some of the wind out of the sails of finding secret heretics. It felt plausible that there might be heretical activity going on when it had been a matter of mysterious caravans and eccentrics in costumes. It felt less plausible in the face of someone holding a clipboard and a ring of keys. She added a practical air to the whole affair, akin to a parent having found them in the middle of an important game to remind them about supper.

“Do you smoke?” Minnow asked, pulling a pipe out of her pocket.

“Yeah,” the Captain said.

“Well quit it,” she said, lighting a match. “It’s a bad habit. You’re too young, you’re a baby. Look at you, who gave you a sword? I’ve got kids with haircuts older than you. Why do they even have you guys out here, you piss somebody off?” She puffed at the pipe to light whatever was already inside it, which did not smell as if anyone should inhale it.

“Monster King Karzarul has risen,” the Captain explained.

Minnow looked around at the fields and woods surrounding them. “Out here?” she asked.

“We don’t know where,” he said. “Our Sunlight Prince is hunting him, over land and through Rainbow Doors.”

“Aah,” Minnow said. “So you’re covering the ‘over land’ part.”

“Something like that,” he said. He finally took his hand off Nari’s arm, and she inched her way back toward Minnow. “Don’t suppose you’ve seen any monsters.”

“We see a lot of monsters,” she shrugged. “Wandering around, you know. Doing monster things. In the distance, ideally. Haven’t seen many lately. Might be a bad sign, yeah?”

“Might be,” he agreed.

Minnow clapped Nari on the shoulder, nodding her head to indicate she could get back on the caravan. “We go all over,” she said. “Haven’t seen any legendary immortal battles so far, but who knows. Kavid’s scheduled to do a show in Thornhaven in two days, I assume more of you will be there?”

“Lieutenant Kyric is stationed in Thornhaven,” the Captain said.

“Oh, hell, Kyric?” Minnow asked. “He still got that moustache?”

“He won’t get rid of it,” another soldier said, and the Captain glared at him, shutting him up immediately.

“Hate that fuckin’ thing,” Minnow said. “We see any princes between here and Thornhaven, I’ll let Kyric know about it. You got a name?” She pulled a pen out of her clipboard, pipe held between her teeth, and waited.

“Slif,” the Captain said, shifting awkwardly as she scribbled out his name.

“I’ll see if I can put in the good word for you with Kyric,” she said. “Or the bad word. Depends on if he’s still pissed at me for what I said about his shitty moustache. Big fuckin’ baby, anyhow.”

The other soldier from before snickered.

Leonas waited until Kavid was alone and a safe distance before grabbing him. “Kavid,” Leonas hissed.

Kavid clapped a hand over his own mouth to suppress his scream. He stared at the nothing that was holding him, which sometimes shimmered.

“What the fuck was that?” Leonas asked.

“Valeria,” Kavid said as if that explained anything. “She is very good with these situations.”

“Minnow’s tried to lie to me before,” Leonas said. “She’s terrible at it. Have you been giving her lessons, what the fuck was that?”

“Did you not know?” Kavid asked, delighted. The spot where nothing was holding his arm became suddenly very hot. “That’s fine and normal, why would you know? Bad at lying, good at pretending. Excellent pretending. Give her a person to be, if she knows the person she will be them.”

“That’s just complicated lying,” Leonas said.

“Yes,” Kavid shrugged. “The trick to a good lie is, you must make yourself believe it. Starlight, she can make herself believe anything. It is only that she must believe she is a person who would believe it. She cannot make herself believe that the girl who is Minnow would know nothing of her boys. The woman who is Valeria does not need to lie, for she has a job to do and she would not know the things that Minnow knows. You see what I mean?”

“Yes,” Karzarul said before Leonas could complain. “She likes to play.”

“Exactly,” Kavid said. “She is a woman with a sword made of stars, who can do whatever she believes and who can believe anything. She is a changeling, fairy-touched. Every fairy was once a child with old eyes, you know? Children eternal, always in-between. A fairy does not lie, has many rules to make the world manageable. There are many reasons to like Kavid, but she likes the game we play. Where she is a human woman, playing at the things a human woman does. You, who are a witch and a monster, perhaps you do not see it? The way that she is Starlight, a wolf pretending to be a dog for the sake of the lambs. Taciturn, for to speak too much would show her teeth.”

“Hm,” Leonas said. He was slightly mollified, though he was still bothered more than he would admit. An unpleasant reminder that she’d lived her life away from him, and perhaps it was many lives, whole entire selves that had wandered the world without a thought to him. Bad enough after Karzarul to know that she could keep secrets when she’d always been his only one, worse to think she might have preferred another life as another self in which he only interrupted. That she was playing Minnow as much as she played Valeria.

“May I cease now to stand between wagons speaking to myself?” Kavid asked, and Leonas let him go. “Do not fuss yourself so,” Kavid said, brushing off his arm. “We have all of us known the horror of realizing our woman loves improv. Count your blessings so long as she does not ask for you to play party games.”

Astielle: Chapter Twenty-Eight

“Peppers?” Minnow suggested.

“Yes, peppers,” Leonas sighed.

“I don’t understand what you’re allowed to eat,” Minnow said. “No sweets or fats or spices is all the foods. Butter? Is butter like cheese?”

“Butter isn’t cheese,” Leonas said. “A small amount of butter is fine. Milk and butter aren’t as bad. Cheeses get more sunlight added to them.”

“Alcohol,” Minnow said.

“Alcohol is fine,” Leonas said. “Sort of. It’s dimmer, more earth.”

“Earth!” Minnow said. “Earth is new, earth is part of it?’

“Obviously,” Leonas said.

“It’s not obvious,” Minnow said.

“It isn’t,” Karzarul agreed.

They had camped overnight in the Forest of Giants, and had since worked on finding a good configuration for riding on Karzarul’s back as a Tauril. He wasn’t used to having more than one passenger. If he put the Moonbow away, then Minnow could ride with her back up against his. It was significantly more comfortable than straddling him. Leonas was trickier until Karzarul had figured out how to fashion a two-pommel saddle that would fit further back. It let Leonas ride sidesaddle, though it meant he and Minnow were looking at each other for the entire ride. Leonas didn’t care for that part but didn’t say so. Minnow usually looked at the passing landscape.

They had let Minnow pick the Door again. They were out of the forest now, in roads that used to pass through forests. Now the roads passed through rolling hills of fields, and sometimes the fields had small patches of woods in the middle of them. There were long stretches of nothingness and grass, only enough trees to interrupt the view. The breeze here had a pleasant bite to it, air cool in the shelter of distant mountains.

“People are made of earth, water, and sunlight,” Leonas said. “Most people have more of one than others, you have to maintain a balance.”

“I thought it was sunlight, moonlight, and starlight,” Minnow said. “Or magic? Magic instead of starlight.”

“That’s a separate thing,” Leonas said. “Starlight and moonlight are both forms of sunlight.”

“What?” Karzarul said.

“In official doctrine,” Leonas said. “You’re not supposed to take it literally, that’s looking at the Sun. Don’t ask me about that, I won’t explain it right.”

“Okay,” Minnow said. “So everything important is actually sunlight, except for people, which are also dirt and water.”

“Earth and water,” Leonas corrected.

“And you’re supposed to eat dirt.”

“Grounded foods.”

“Because having too much sunlight is bad.”

“Having too much anything is bad,” Leonas said. “I have a bright temperament, I’m pre-disposed toward an excess of sunlight. Someone with a severe natural imbalance is going to have a lot of health problems, improving balance can help.”

“What kind of temperament do I have?” Minnow asked.

“How should I know?” Leonas said. “I’m not a Temple physician, I can barely read a chart. Even with a chart and your proportions, without knowing the time and location of your birth it’s useless. If I were guessing based on personality I would say liquid, but that’s nonsense. Not everyone’s personality matches their natural temperament.”

“What’s wet about me?” she asked.

“Don’t start,” he warned. “You’re malleable. You’re forthright, you have an amplifying effect. You lack structure.”

“I’ve never heard of any of this,” Karzarul said. “And I’ve heard a lot of shit.”

“Of course you haven’t,” Leonas said. “You were dormant for centuries. It isn’t as if you were reading human dietary research before then.”

“It sounds like your doctor diagnosed you with hungry and told you the cure is not eating,” Minnow said.

“I’m not listening to the opinions of a woman who thinks all leaves are spinach,” Leonas said.

“Not every leaf,” Minnow said. “A surprising number of leaves. Not as many as cabbage. Lot of things are actually cabbage.”

“How many vegetables do you think are on the side of the road right now?” Leonas asked, gesturing.

Minnow squinted from where she sat, but it was difficult to make out more than indistinct leaves and sprays of wildflowers. “Looks like mostly carrots,” she said.

“Where are you seeing carrots.”

“The white flowers,” she said. “I would have to look closer though, if they’re the wrong size that means they’re poison.”

“That’s not a thing,” Leonas said. “Karzarul, will you at least agree with me that the size of a ditch flower does not correlate to whether it is a poison carrot?”

“I wouldn’t know,” Karzarul said. “I can eat anything. Some of it tastes bad, but it won’t kill me.”

“Shit,” Leonas said. “Neither of you know anything about being a normal person.”

“You’re a prince,” Karzarul reminded him.

“A prince with a rudimentary education and a regular diet of things that weren’t found in a ditch,” Leonas said.

“I saw feasts at the castle before,” Minnow said. “With cakes and chocolate birdcages and things.”

“Those were for guests,” Leonas said.

“You couldn’t even eat the chocolate birdcage?” Minnow asked.

“That’s fucked up,” Karzarul said.

“I could,” Leonas said. “I can do whatever I want. I’m a prince.”

“Uh-huh,” Minnow said.

Karzarul stopped, a tilt of his head. “Someone’s coming,” he said. “Wagons. Other side of those trees.” The road further down split into an intersection, patches of forest blocking the view of any road not straight ahead. “Should we wait?”

“Nah,” Minnow said. “Keep going.”

“I think they’re going to notice the Tauril on the road,” Leonas said.

Minnow shrugged. “So?”

“You don’t think they might panic?” Leonas asked.

“People panic about a lot of things,” she said dismissively. “I’ve ridden a moose down a busy road before. Everyone gets out of your way and then they move on. It’s a weird story they’ll tell later.”

“The fact that you can get on top of something doesn’t mean you should ride it,” Leonas said. “Don’t,” he warned before she could say anything. “Why a moose?”

“Guy said he’d give me his hat if I could.”

“You can buy hats,” Leonas said. “You can buy many hats.”

“It had to be that one,” she said. “There was a kid that wanted it.”

“What did the kid have?”

“The hat, once that guy saw my moose.”

“This seems unsafe,” Karzarul said, returning to the matter at hand.

“If you’re really uncomfortable with it we can wait,” Minnow said. “I don’t think we need to. If they’re hostile, we can book it. If not, then all you have to do is walk normal. Whoever it is will try to play it cool, because if you’re not already charging them then they don’t want to get your attention. It doesn’t have to be a big deal. I scare people on the road all the time.”

At that, Karzarul resumed walking.

“I thought we were laying low,” Leonas said.

“What we’re doing is not questing,” Minnow said. “We don’t have to lay low to not quest. If wandering merchants can’t handle seeing monsters going about their business, that their problem. They don’t have to like it to start accepting that it’s gonna happen.”

“I think you overestimate people’s willingness to accept things that don’t make sense to them,” Leonas said.

“I think you overestimate people’s willingness to admit when things don’t make sense to them,” Minnow said. They approached the crossing, a train of wagons and caravans coming into view from the east. Minnow patted Karzarul underneath her. “Ignore them, you’re fine.”

“I know I’m fine,” Karzarul said. “It’s awkward, that’s all.”

The wagon’s horses all slowed to a stop before the roads crossed, and without the squeaking wheels or hoofbeats it felt very quiet.

“See what I mean?” Karzarul said.

“Yeah, that happens,” Minnow said. She looked down from Karzarul’s back. “Nari?” she asked.

The woman who’d been leading the main wagon seemed to be going through a lot, internally. “Starlight Hero?” Her obvious alarm had not abated at all. “Is this. Your. Tauril?”

Karzarul stopped since Minnow seemed to be having a conversation. “This is Karzarul,” Minnow said, gesturing with her thumb.

Nari looked between Karzarul and Minnow. “The Monster King.”

“Yeah.”

“I thought he was supposed to have more heads than that.”

“No. Over there’s Prince Leonas.”

“Okay,” Nari said.

“Is Kavid with you?”

Karzarul started walking again. Minnow jumped off his back to stand in the road, ruining his attempt at a retreat.

“Is he in trouble?” Nari asked.

“Yes,” Leonas said.

“No,” Minnow said.

“Is it Hero business?” Nari asked.

“Yes,” Minnow said.

“I’ll see if he’s up,” Nari said, climbing down from her perch and heading back toward the other wagons.

Karzarul took a step back so that he could bend down toward Minnow. “What Hero business?” he asked.

“I’m the Hero,” Minnow said. “All my business is Hero business.”

“I thought we were doing boyfriend things,” he said. “Dates.”

“We are.”

“Watching you swoon over a bard is not my idea of a date.”

“I don’t swoon,” Minnow said indignantly. “I’ve told you before, he knows stories. I have questions. This is convenient.”

“If you pick her up,” Leonas called from on Karzarul’s back, “we can leave before he gets out here.”

“Try me,” Minnow warned.

“We don’t like him,” Karzarul said.

“You don’t like a lot of people,” Minnow said.

“We don’t all have your friendly disposition,” Karzarul said, and Minnow snorted.

“Starlight!” Kavid called in greeting, and Minnow barely restrained herself from clapping. “And…” Kavid faltered. “Friends.”

He wasn’t wearing his costume. His clothes were rumpled and looked slept-in. He had a black scarf tied over his hair, short-cropped unnatural orange jutting out from underneath it. He had the leftover remnants of makeup still staining the edges of his eyes black and smudgy. Without makeup, he had faint freckles splattered over the entirety of his otherwise pale face.

“King of All Monsters,” Minnow said, pointing over her left shoulder with her right hand. “Prince of Astielle,” she said, pointing over her right shoulder with her left hand.

“Hello,” Karzarul said. Leonas didn’t even bother waving.

“Lovely to be meeting you,” Kavid said automatically, doing a half-bow before turning to Nari. “So when you said that the Starlight Hero wished to see me—”

“I know,” Nari apologized.

“—and when I said, ‘I need not get dressed, she has seen it all before’—”

“I know,” Nari apologized harder.

“—you could not have maybe mentioned the Sunlight Heir and the Moonlight Monster? Also being here?”

“I didn’t think you’d believe me,” Nari said.

“For reference in the future,” Kavid said, “‘you should get dressed’ is a complete sentence.”

“Got it,” Nari said.

Kavid turned back to Minnow. “Starlight,” he greeted again. She was smoothing her braid out over her shoulder, staring at him. He held out a hand, which she took eagerly so that he would twirl her around before pulling her close. He kissed the backs of her fingers, and she giggled. Leonas turned his head so she wouldn’t see him roll his eyes. “I take it he is not to be killing you?” Kavid asked, with a slight nod toward Karzarul.

“We’re dating now,” Minnow said.

“Oh,” Kavid said, still holding her hands. He looked at Karzarul, then at Minnow. “Good for you. You are a powerful woman.”

“Thank you.”

“This is why you have come to see Kavid?” he asked.

“Can we speak in your caravan?” she asked.

Kavid looked at Karzarul and Leonas again. “All of you?”

“Yes.”

“I am certain this is not the first time it has been said to him,” Kavid said, “but this gentleman is much too large. He will not fit. I cannot accommodate him.”

Leonas snorted.

“He gets smaller,” Minnow said.

“In this weather, who doesn’t?” Kavid said. “But, no. The cold water can only do so much, there are limits.”

Minnow turned around. “Karzarul.”

Karzarul sighed. He turned around and offered Leonas a hand. Leonas sighed as he accepted it, a sunlight glow of magic slowing his descent to the ground as he dismounted. Karzarul shifted, letting the harness and all the bags attached to it fall. Leonas barely caught them before they crashed. “Don’t just drop things,” Leonas said.

“It’s fine,” Karzarul said, rolling his shoulders. His shift into Impyr form had included his crown this time.

“This is what he looks like?” Kavid asked Minnow.

“Yeah,” Minnow said.

“This changes matters,” Kavid said. “I will be happy to have you all at my earliest convenience.” He let Minnow go to snap his fingers. “Nari, retrieve for them their bags, we cannot be lollygagging in the crossroads.”

“I’m not—” Nari began, but Kavid continued snapping his fingers at her until she gave up.


“Nari is busy,” Kavid said as he lead the way into his caravan, “and so you must make the tea.” He waved a hand toward the small woodstove nestled amongst the cabinets of his kitchenette. There were clothes on the floor and dishes in the sink. Minnow immediately set to filling the kettle from a pitcher, looking much too at home for Leonas’ liking. Karzarul had to bend awkwardly to fit inside the caravan with his horns.

The back end of the caravan was taken up by a bed, the blankets all a tangle made worse when Kavid balled them up with the pillows and threw them into the bed’s corner. Then he flopped onto it and rolled onto the far side before reaching into the mattress. He pulled, revealing that the mattress was divided into segments with a collapsible table supporting a significant portion. He knocked the segment of mattress and the various clothes on the table to the floor before reclining into one side of the L-shaped couch that remained. He yawned. “Sit,” he said, waving at the other side of the couch.

Karzarul sat at the furthest end since it wasn’t as if he could stand upright. Leonas stood, arms crossed, watching Minnow as she cheerfully brewed a pot of tea.

“You do not like to see her boil water?” Kavid asked, amused.

“Can you not boil your own?” Leonas asked.

“I am Kavid,” he said, throwing up his hands with a flourish. “Such things are beneath me.”

“But not her,” Leonas said icily.

“She does not seem to think so,” Kavid said, yawning again. “Who am I, to say that she is wrong?”

Leonas did not find this compelling.

“You do not like me, Prince of Astielle,” Kavid observed with some amusement.

“You are,” Leonas said, “an egotistical, self-important fop.”

“Ye-e-es,” Kavid said without shame. “She has a type, does Starlight.”

Karzarul frowned. Leonas scowled. Minnow set mugs in front of Kavid and Karzarul, and gave the third to Leonas directly. Kavid pulled himself upright so that he could drink without pouring hot tea all over himself. He wrapped both hands around the ceramic, held it close to his face, and sighed contentedly in the steam. Minnow slid over the table to plop down next to him. This did not improve Leonas’ mood.

“How does it come to pass that you are not killing each other?” Kavid asked.

“I like them,” Minnow said.

“And?” Kavid prompted.

“That’s it,” Minnow shrugged.

“You see?” Kavid said. “This is why you need me.” He shook his head. “No sense of narrative. No tension! No drama! Did you find yourselves overwhelmed with attraction even at each other’s throats? Did you agonize to know they were forbidden? Tell yourself that it was hate that made your heart pound so?”

“No,” Minnow said.

Kavid sighed. “No romance,” he muttered, sipping at his tea. The caravan started to move again.

“I don’t think we’re here so that Minnow can give you the details of our relationship,” Karzarul said.

“Why else?” Kavid asked.

“We have a question only a regular person can answer,” Minnow said.

“So you come to me.”

“Yes.”

“Understandable,” Kavid said with a nod. “I am very in touch with the common man.”

“Are foods earth, water, and sunlight?” Minnow asked.

Kavid laughed. Leonas sipped his tea and contemplated a half-empty bottle of wine sitting on Kavid’s floor.

“Who told you this?” Kavid asked.

“An acquaintance,” Leonas said.

“Be careful of your acquaintance,” Kavid said. “That is only a thread in a very big sweater, that one. Old Temple stuff, Imperial conspiracies, all that mess. It might be they are only harmless. People have superstitions, do not know where they start. But, if they are troubling a Sunlight Heir! Could be that they are an Imperial.”

Leonas drank tea fast enough to burn his throat.

“Imperial conspiracies,” Karzarul repeated.

“Oh yes,” Kavid said, looking pleased. “Do you know of them?”

“I do not trouble myself with human stories,” Karzarul said, “except insofar as they inconvenience me.”

“What fun,” Kavid said, “to tell a story to the Moonlight Monster. As conspiracies go—I am interested in conspiracies. Not like that. I do not mention it, people get the wrong idea about it. I find them interesting from a narrative perspective. The stories to explain why people are right. You know?”

Minnow nodded.

“I am not a conspiracy weirdo,” Kavid added.

Minnow nodded.

“I collect them,” he said. “The way you collect pretty things. The Imperial conspiracy is an old one, lots of others are tied into it, sit on top. At the center, it is the idea that the Sun Empire never fell.”

“I would have noticed if it hadn’t,” Karzarul said.

“Everyone would have!” Kavid agreed. “That is what makes it fun. And for you especially, who was there! You were there, yes? You are not as Starlight, who is born always new?”

“I was there,” Karzarul said.

“Right,” Kavid said. “The Sunlight Empress—how much did you know about the Sun Temple? There was a Temple, yes?”

“There was,” Karzarul said. “I had other concerns than theirs, at the time.”

“Certainly,” Kavid said. “In the days of the Empire, the Emperor was the earthly avatar of the Sun Goddess and Her vessel through which to rule Her subjects. Before the Shrines there were Sun Temples, but also the Sun Temple, if you see what I mean. A central organization to which all Sun Temples were beholden, and the Emperor at the head of it. For the Empress to also be the Sunlight Heir, the Empire took this as confirmation of the order of things. Yes?”

“It was why she wanted the Sunshield,” Karzarul said. “To take the throne back from her brother.”

“Oooh,” Kavid said, sitting straighter, eyes bright. “I like that version, I have not heard it before. It fits! Imperials say that you killed all the Emperor’s sons, and thus the Empress.”

“No,” Karzarul said. “She was the eldest. The throne was always meant to be hers.”

“Oh-ho!” Kavid said, even more delighted. “Perhaps this was before the whole thing about women?”

Leonas retrieved the half-empty wine bottle off the floor and poured some of it into his mug. He smelled it to confirm that it was wine and that no one had pissed in it. Then he filled the rest of his mug and started drinking it.

“They say women were made in the image of the Sun Goddess,” Kavid explained, “but they are flawed, because on their own they cannot create. Men were created to fix this flaw of women, in no one’s image but their own.”

“I had not heard that,” Karzarul said.

“They leave it out!” Kavid said cheerfully. “You must be very deep before they mention these things. This was the downfall of the Empire, they believe, that a flawed facsimile could not serve a Goddess so well as could an independent creation. She sought a man to complete her, and so was lead astray by witches and monsters.”

“Hm,” Karzarul said.

“Did you truly seduce her?” Kavid asked. “I had wondered, you see, before I knew you could be this.”

“She despised me,” Karzarul said. “I was briefly useful.”

“Aaah,” Kavid said. “Yes, that version would not fit with theirs. Better for them if you seduced her. When the Sunlight Heir was born outside the Empire, this is when the trouble started. There was a schism between those who thought the head of the Temple ought to be the Empress, and those who thought it ought to be the Heir. Kingdoms tore away, there were civil wars, all a big mess. You remember this?”

“I was otherwise occupied,” Karzarul said.

“Ah, well,” Kavid said dismissively. “Important things happen every day of which I will never know. Everyone agrees that the capital city was finally sacked and ruined. This is when the Empire fell, and the Old Temple with it. Imperials believe it did not! They say the Empress fled and declared a new capital, for they believe it was the Emperor and not the Heir who carried the will of the Sun Goddess. To them, the Empire was betrayed by heretics who would follow the Heir. The Empire will rise again, they think, when the blood of an Emperor once again runs through the body of an Heir.” He sipped at his tea.

Leonas had already emptied the wine bottle. He set the bottle and his mug down by the sink, before carefully navigating the blankets and laundry and cushions on the floor. He took off the Sunshield to prop it against the wall. Then he sat himself sideways on Karzarul’s lap without warning, back toward Kavid and gaze somewhere in the middle distance. Karzarul went still but otherwise did not acknowledge that this was bizarre.

“How does this relate to cheese?” Minnow asked.

“Right,” Kavid said. “In olden times, all of the doctors had to be Sun Clerics. It was the Temple that taught medicine. Which was, you know. Measuring people and writing down their birthdays and telling if they were allowed to eat hams. Which sounds silly! But they were also washing hands, and having sewers and clean water. It was an improvement, because before that everyone ate things that made them vomit. A vomit-based healthcare system. No good. That is where the Temple persisted, after the fall. The physicians. Even now, when the good doctors go to medical universities to learn enchantments, there are Temple physicians. Some people get nervous, having magic put inside them. They like the Temple physicians, who measure their fingers and tell them to stop putting cinnamon in their oatmeal. It is a good story! That it is your fault you are sick, something you did, something you can fix. Disease as a thing to deserve.”

“But regular people don’t think that,” Minnow said.

“A little,” Kavid shrugged. “A good narrative is hard to kill. It lives on in many who only know parts. Once they are telling you which foods are earthy and wet, that is when you worry.”

“Having this acquaintance near the Prince,” Karzarul said, “would be bad. That’s what you’re saying.”

“Oh yes,” Kavid said. “Every country has their own Imperials, convinced theirs is the new seat of the Empire. They made it to high office in Perivo, convinced the King that Heirs and Heroes ought to be given their weapons as close to birth as possible. Thought themselves quite clever when their child-Queen could speak as an Empress. Less clever when she could kill as one.”

“The Mad Queen Gwenviel,” Leonas mumbled.

“It is said she killed her Hero,” Kavid said, “when they both were only six. I have a song about it.”

“The Hero lived,” Karzarul said. “Eleven years more.”

“I will need more details,” Kavid said, “if I am to update my song.”

“You won’t get them,” Karzarul said.

Kavid clicked his tongue. “As bad as she is!” he chided. “All the same, you strong and silent types. Though you are more talkative than she, in truth.” He nudged Minnow with his elbow. “She gives me nothing to work with, this one.”

“How did you come to know each other?” Karzarul asked, finally picking up his mug to sip his tea.

“She has not told you?” Kavid asked, feigning hurt.

“He wanted to come with me on a quest,” Minnow said. “I thought he was pretty.”

“You see?” Kavid said. “Taciturn, that is what she is. All business. No poetry in her soul.” Minnow giggled. Leonas rested his head against Karzarul’s shoulder. “I’d sing the song I have about it, but I need to rest my voice, you understand.”

“It’s a bad song,” Leonas mumbled. Karzarul cautiously patted his thigh.

“It was many years ago,” Kavid began, “when our tour of the continent brought us through a great and terrible forest near the border of Astielle. We had been warned against the route, but we were running late, and felt certain we could manage any danger. Our caravans are sturdy, after all, and we had not yet had the misfortune of encountering many monsters! No offense.”

“Hollow monsters,” Karzarul corrected.

“Eh?”

“The King of Astielle has been making fake monsters for a hundred years,” Minnow said.

Both of Kavid’s palms hit the table. “What.”

“Basically,” Karzarul said.

“You cannot simply say these things,” Kavid said. He snapped his fingers in Minnow’s face. “Details! Details.”

“The King sucks,” Minnow said.

“This helps me not at all,” Kavid said. “You seek to drive me mad, I am sure of it.”

“The King used his son’s shield to capture moonlight so that he could frame monsters for the violence he wanted done,” Karzarul said.

That I can work with,” Kavid said. “Excellent, thank you.”

“Weren’t you telling a story?” Leonas asked.

“Ye-e-es,” Kavid said. “When Bullizards emerged from the wood to attack us, who but the Starlight Hero came to our aid? Striking down with brutal efficiency the terrible monsters—no offense.”

“It’s fine,” Karzarul said, sipping his tea.

“When at last we were safe, we asked how we might repay this mighty Hero. Imagine my surprise when she asked for a song! I was quite intimidated, of course. I am glorious, as I am Kavid, but who can say what stirs the heart of a Hero? She has a way of watching, with those dark eyes of hers. Intense. You know?”

“I’m familiar,” Karzarul said.

“I decided to sing her a local tune, about a cave of wonders hidden beneath a mountain. To my surprise, she took it quite seriously, and resolved to find the thing. It took all my bountiful courage to tell her I would join her. She agreed without hesitation. It was not until our travels progressed that I came to realize she was… a fan.”

Leonas snorted.

“An aggressive one, at that,” Kavid said. “She is not shy, the Starlight Hero.”

Karzarul paused with the mug halfway to his lips. “No?” he asked. Minnow was looking at a knot in the wood of the table.

“Not at all!” Kavid said. “I am sure you know this. She leaves no doubt as to her desires, yes?”

Leonas turned around in Karzarul’s lap for the first time, straddling his thigh and leaving Karzarul to carefully maneuver his tea out of the way. Leonas propped his chin up on his hand, his elbow on the table, leaning forward. “Oh, yes,” he said. “Let’s hear more about that.”

Kavid considered Leonas’ sudden interest. He looked at Minnow, who was watching him with a different kind of intensity altogether. “Ah… perhaps not.”

“No, no,” Leonas said, “please continue, we’re both very interested.” Leonas looked at Karzarul. “Aren’t we?”

“Our relationship,” Karzarul said tactfully, “is unique.”

“You would like to compare notes?” Kavid suggested.

“Always,” Leonas said.

Kavid scratched at his chin. “In truth?” he said. “She did not allow me my nerves for long. She asked if I was interested, and when I said yes, informed me that I was free to kiss her at any time. I was surprised, of course. She had not seemed much charmed by me outside of my performances. I did not yet know the way of her, that she speaks little. Have you not seen much the same?”

“Yes,” Karzarul said. “Taciturn.”

“All business,” Leonas agreed. “You know her well.”

“It is why I am the greatest of bards,” Kavid said without modesty. “My insight into the natures of people.” He kissed Minnow’s temple, and she smiled.

Astielle: Chapter Twenty-Seven

NSFW Content Warnings
Maledom ❤ Femsub ❤ Malesub ❤ Sadism/Masochism ❤ Oral Fixation ❤ Physical Restraint ❤ Shackles/Manacles ❤ Size Difference ❤ Voyeurism ❤ Clothed Sex ❤ Blowjobs ❤ Facefucking ❤ Swallowing ❤ Penetrative Sex ❤ Weird Monster Dicks ❤ Tentacles ❤ Penis-in-Vagina Sex ❤ Rough Sex ❤ Dirty Talk ❤ Praise Kink ❤ Cunnilingus ❤ Overstimulation ❤ Creampie (no impreg)

The Rainbow Door sat at the bottom of a hill, a gentle slope upward to a willow tree.

“There’s a cabin here we can use,” Minnow said, letting their hands go to head toward it. She had insisted on changing into a ‘date dress’, which looked suspiciously like a green tunic designed for someone much taller. “There aren’t any roads, which is weird, but in our case that’s a benefit. Right?” She turned around and realized that Leonas was staring at the willow tree. Karzarul, still in his Tauril form, was staring at the cabin. She stopped. “Is something wrong?”

“No,” Leonas said, pulling his eyes away from the tree. Karzarul hadn’t moved. Minnow turned around to look at the cabin. She’d found it years ago, this cozy little place so near to a Door and so far from everything else. She had wondered if she might have left it for herself. No one else had been using it, regardless. Though it was in most aspects standard, the main room and the front door were unusually large.

Oh,” she said. “Is this somewhere important?” she asked Karzarul. “I hadn’t realized. I should have, with the Door. I didn’t think about it.”

“Let’s pick a different spot,” Leonas suggested when Karzarul didn’t respond.

“It’s…” Karzarul trailed off, did not say that it was fine. He still had not moved.

“Minnow,” Leonas said, taking her hand and pulling her back. He grabbed Karzarul’s hand, and let Minnow lead them back through the Door to somewhere else.

They came back out in a forest where the trees were big enough to fit a cabin inside, the air cool with a threat of rain. The trunks were all mossy, the ground carpeted in ferns and sorrel.

“Is this better?” Minnow asked.

“This is fine,” Karzarul said. She squeezed Leonas’ hand, and without thinking he passed it through, realizing much too late that Karzarul’s hand was massive and being squeezed back with equal force would be a problem. Karzarul’s thumb stroked the back of Leonas’ hand instead. When Leonas’ brain was working again, Minnow had already dragged the chain of them to her preferred spot.

“If we lay out a blanket here,” she said, letting Leonas go to gesture, “this will be a good picnic spot. Right?”

“Right,” Karzarul said, letting Leonas go. He dropped to the ground, sitting with his legs all curled, and did not move to help. Minnow dug through his saddlebags to find the blanket. Leonas waited at a distance, moving closer and then stopping.

“Are we pretending nothing happened?” Minnow asked.

“Nothing happened,” Karzarul said.

“Okay,” Minnow said, holding the blanket but not spreading it out yet. “Do you want alone time?”

“No.”

She spread the blanket out on the ground next to him. “Is touching okay?” Karzarul thought about it. “Normal touching,” she added, unbuckling her belt to leave the Starsword on the blanket’s corner, “not being nice.”

“That’s fine,” Karzarul said.

She unhooked the picnic basket from his harness and sat down between his front hooves. “Come sit,” she instructed Leonas.

Leonas lowered himself warily to sit on the far side of the blanket. He worked his arms out of the straps of the Sunshield, setting it on a different corner of the blanket.

“It’s going to be hard to reach the basket from over there,” she pointed out, opening the basket and pulling out a wineskin.

“I’m not eating any leaves,” Leonas warned.

“I won’t make you eat leaves,” she said. Then she squinted at all the green around their blanket. “These are good leaves, though.”

“Are they spinach?” Leonas deadpanned.

“Kind of a spinach,” Minnow said. “Not the same kind.”

“Don’t eat ground leaves,” Leonas said.

“I might later,” Minnow said. “I won’t make you eat them.”

“Thanks.”

“You should eat some cheese.”

“Is it actually cheese,” Leonas asked, “or is it something you found that you’re calling cheese?”

“It’s regular cheese,” Minnow said. “There’s the soft moldy kind, and the crumbly moldy kind, and the goaty kind.”

“I’m not actually hungry.”

“You’re always hungry.” Minnow patted the blanket closer to her.

“No I’m not,” Leonas said. “I can wait.”

“For what?”

“Until you’re done.” He realized as he said it why it sounded absurd.

“If you want alone time, you can say,” Minnow said.

“I don’t want to get in the way,” he said, not looking at Karzarul.

“You can’t,” Minnow said. “That’s how boyfriends work.” Minnow tilted her head back to look up at Karzarul. “Right? We want him over here.”

“… right.”

“You’re our boyfriend,” Minnow said. “You can do boyfriend things.”

“Our?” Leonas repeated. Karzarul’s expression was much the same. Minnow looked between the two of them as best she could from her position, looking up and forward and up again.

“Are you not?” she asked.

“Boyfriend is not a transitive property,” Leonas said.

“Right,” Karzarul said despite not knowing what that meant.

“I don’t know what that means,” Minnow said. “I thought you talked about it and you like each other.”

“It’s more complicated than that,” Leonas said.

Minnow narrowed her eyes as she considered what this might mean. “… sexually?” she asked. “You said boyfriends don’t have to have sex. Unless you want to have sex.”

“That’s not—”

“Oh!” she said, eyes widening. “You’ve only been with girls. Right? I don’t know if any of the girls had dicks.”

Leonas became a flustered shade of bright. “The vetting process didn’t always—that’s beside the point.” He rubbed at his nose. “There’s a commitment implied,” he mumbled.

Minnow held out her right hand and pointed with her left to the eight-pointed star.

“… that’s different,” Leonas said.

Karzarul tousled Minnow’s hair. “Let him be,” he said gently. She harrumphed, pouting as she pulled a small wheel of hard white cheese from the basket and tore off a piece with her fingers. She offered the rest of the wheel to Karzarul, holding it up above her head. He accepted and had to debate whether to eat the entire thing in one bite or nibble at it.

Leonas stood and sat down stiffly beside Minnow, his back to Karzarul’s lower ribcage. Minnow’s cheese consumption became immediately less sulky. “What would you like?” Minnow asked.

“Is there bread?” Leonas said. “I don’t know if this is actually supposed to be lunch.”

“You can have lunch without bread,” Minnow said. “We do have some, though.” She offered Leonas a small roll with a hard crust.

“Cheese isn’t lunch,” Leonas said, gingerly taking it from her.

“There’s apples,” she added, “and more raspberries. There’s a little jar of jam in here, I don’t know what kind.” Karzarul had brought the basket, but she suspected Violet had packed it. She didn’t know who’d actually made the contents. “There’s a lot of lunch things.”

Leonas was eating by tearing tiny pieces off the roll she’d given him. “Those are snacks,” he said. “And dessert.”

Minnow blinked. “Which of those things do you think is dessert?” she asked slowly.

Leonas stopped tearing at his bread. “There’s. They’re sweet. Fruits and things.”

“And the cheese?” she asked.

“It’s… that’s not a meal, on its own,” he said. “I’ve told you before, you need to eat real food.”

“Like bread,” she half-asked.

“Or rice,” he said. “Or potatoes.” He resumed eating.

“Bland things.”

“They taste like that because they have less sunlight in them,” he said. “Too much is bad for you, you need dimmer things to absorb it.” He finally finished the last of his small roll.

“Hm,” Minnow said. “You should have a drink.” While he was busy with the wineskin, she looked up at Karzarul. Karzarul made a face to indicate that he also had no idea what the fuck Leonas was talking about. Minnow nodded, satisfied by this confirmation of her suspicions.

“What am I drinking?” Leonas asked after a single sip.

“Dandelion wine,” Minnow said, retrieving another roll.

Leonas narrowed his eyes at the skin. “What did I just say about leaves.”

“It’s petals,” she said, “and honey.” She was assembling a crude sandwich out of goat cheese and jam.

“I’m going to be fine with this,” he said, “but only because I’ve heard of this before and it’s alcohol.”

“Here,” she said, handing him the sandwich.

“That’s too much,” he protested.

“No it isn’t,” she said. “Don’t believe people who say you can have too much sunlight.”

Leonas opened his mouth to speak, then shut it again. He took the sandwich.

“I eat lots of things that aren’t bland,” Minnow added, popping a raspberry in her mouth, “and I’m fine.”

“The rules don’t apply to you,” Leonas muttered, trying to figure out the best way to politely eat a round sandwich.

“You should get down here,” Minnow said to Karzarul. He went fuzzy around the edges, and the moonlight of him moved as he shifted into a Howler. He sat on the blanket, tail wagging. Leonas looked at the bags left on the ground, holding all the things that had been in the saddlebags on Karzarul’s harness.

“You said you couldn’t change things after you made them,” Leonas said, a hint of accusation.

“I can’t,” Karzarul said.

“Shouldn’t your mouth still move?” Leonas wondered under his breath.

“I unmade them and then made them again.”

“They still have things in them,” Leonas pointed out.

“I was fast.”

“That’s stupid.”

The fur rose on Karzarul’s ruff.

“Not you,” Leonas said. “It doesn’t make any sense, is what I mean.”

“You’re overthinking it,” Minnow said. “Just bite the sandwich.”

“I’m not even hungry.”

“You’re always hungry.”

“I don’t know why you keep saying that,” Leonas said. “I’d know if I was hungry.”

“No,” Minnow said. “You think you’re tired and mad all the time for no reason.”

Leonas narrowed his eyes at the sandwich.

Minnow looked in the picnic basket. “Would it be offensive if I threw an apple like a ball?” she asked.

“No,” Karzarul said, tail wagging.

She pulled out the apple and tossed it overhand. Karzarul jumped up and caught it as it flew over his head, immediately bringing it back to her. She looked it over when he dropped it into her hand, the small holes where only the tips of his longest fangs had sunk through the apple’s skin. She threw it again, harder and faster so he had to chase it before snatching it out of the air. She made a game of seeing how far she could throw it without hitting a tree, aiming higher to see how high Karzarul could jump to catch it.

The answer was ‘very high’.

Finally when he brought it back she examined all the little pinprick holes in the skin of the otherwise intact apple. Then she took a bite.

Gross,” Leonas said immediately. He’d finished his sandwich while no one was looking. She continued chewing. “Don’t eat it, it was in his mouth.”

Minnow swallowed. “I’ve also been in his mouth.”

Leonas huffed with a faint glow. “That’s—not when he looks like that.”

“It’s the same mouth,” Minnow said. “He doesn’t have bits of squirrel in his teeth.” She took another bite of the apple, then gave the rest to Karzarul. He chomped it down in only a few bites.

“That you know of,” Leonas said. Karzarul barked. “I am aware you do not have squirrel in your teeth.”

Minnow pulled out another small wheel of cheese, tearing off a piece and handing it to Leonas. Leonas took and ate it without complaint. “It’s good, right?” she asked.

“I never said it wasn’t good,” Leonas said.

Minnow wiggled closer. “How are you feeling?”

“Like I’ve eaten a lot of cheese.”

Minnow frowned. “I didn’t think this through,” she said, tapping her chin with a knuckle. “I should have picked sexier foods. Cheese and dicks are a bad association.”

Leonas snorted, then covered the lower half of his face with his hand. Minnow pouted as she took a drink from the wineskin, floral and sweet and making her feel warmer.

“Am I bad at this?” she asked Leonas.

“What?”

“Girlfriending.”

“That’s not a verb,” Leonas said. “You’re fine. This is good.” He patted her knee.

“You don’t seem seduced,” she said.

“I don’t like being seduced,” he said.

“That wasn’t the right word,” she said. “I thought…” She sighed and rested her face in her hands. “I thought it would be cuter. Or more fun for you? That you would be able to relax.”

“Dates aren’t relaxing for me.”

“This isn’t that kind of a date, though,” she said. “We’re outside, and you can do whatever you want.”

Leonas shrugged. “I can recite you poetry, if you’d like.”

“You do that?” she asked. “On dates?”

“Sometimes.”

“You don’t like it, though.”

“It’s the done thing.”

Minnow sighed again. “I’ll need to think about it more, before next time,” she decided. “Things that feel like a real date to me, but not to you. I thought this would be different enough.”

“Because we’re outside?” he asked.

“Because it’s me.” She rubbed her nose.

“You’re you,” he agreed, turning to put his right hand on her thigh, run his fingers over the back of her neck and kiss her hair. “That’s an important difference.”

“I can’t tell if you’re doing this because it’s the done thing,” she said.

“Shut up,” Leonas said, and she relaxed.

“Would it be better if you had a book?” she asked.

Leonas considered it seriously. “Yes.”

“We’ll bring books next time,” she decided, as he tilted her head back to kiss her throat. “You can read while I play with Ari.”

“I’d like that,” Leonas said.

“Do they have to be your own poems,” Karzarul asked, “or is it okay to use someone else’s?” He had not yet changed forms, was still a Howler as he observed the proceedings.

“Someone else’s,” Leonas said. “I’m not a poet.”

“Do you have to memorize them?” Karzarul asked. Leonas raised his head so that Minnow could straighten up enough to look forward again.

“Are you going to recite poetry?” Minnow asked.

“I could,” Karzarul said. “If that wouldn’t make it the bad kind of date.” He was trying to figure out the relevant details of a touchy subject using nothing but context clues. He liked the idea of Minnow having a desire that Leonas would not fulfill. Not could not, but would not, a space where Karzarul could fit himself. Reading from a book of poems would be simple enough if the poems themselves were not the problem.

“How would you like it if Karzarul recited poetry?” Minnow asked Leonas. Leonas blinked, brow slightly furrowed.

“Fine,” he decided, though not decisively, a faint air of confusion around the concept. Minnow’s sudden sharp grin didn’t help matters.

“We’ll find a book of poetry later,” Minnow said. She picked up the picnic basket to set it at the edge of the blanket, closing the lid. “Was there anything else you wanted to do,” she asked, “or am I playing with Karzarul again?”

“I’m assuming you mean ‘playing with his dick’,” Leonas said. Minnow covered her face with a mortified sound. “What? That can’t be where the line is.”

“I wasn’t ready!” Minnow protested, still covering her face. “We hadn’t worked up to that part yet!”

It occurred to Leonas that he had spent the better part of a decade unable to say anything explicitly sexual to his sort-of girlfriend. He felt sure he must have, at some point. He knew for a fact she’d said her own share of filth the day before. He looked at Karzarul, who was still a Howler, which was somehow feeling less weird the longer he stayed that way. “Does she do this to you?”

“If I’m not already touching her,” Karzarul said, “she curls up like a hedgehog.”

“Words are different,” she said. “Some words, sometimes.” She lowered her hands. “Don’t make fun.”

“I’m not,” Leonas said. “Does it happen if I remind you that I watched Karzarul tongue-fuck you yesterday?”

“No,” Minnow said with a frown. “That’s just facts.”

“Sit on my face,” he said instead, and she choked, knees pressed together and rising to her chest as she covered her face with her hands again. “Hey,” he said, touching her hair. She uncovered her face and uncurled toward him. “You want my face between your legs?” he asked, pressing his hand to her cheek.

“Yeah,” she sighed, nuzzling at his hand.

“That is fascinating,” Leonas said.

“Is that good?” Minnow asked.

“You’re always good,” Leonas said. He kissed her, and she hummed happily.

“Are we experimenting?” she asked.

“No,” Leonas said. “I’m deciding if I want to fuck you.” He was being deliberately crude, in part to see what she’d do. But it also felt important to establish that he was capable of it. That he was not a childish thing demanding euphemisms.

“I hope you do.” She pressed a kiss to the heel of his hand.

“I know,” he said.

“I can leave,” Karzarul said, laying on the far side of the blanket. “If this is still too distracting.”

“No,” Leonas said, though he continued looking at Minnow. He slid a hand between her thighs, up underneath her skirt.

“Would another form be better?” Karzarul asked.

Leonas imagined Karzarul watching him, the way Leonas had watched them. His horns, his hair, his cheekbones. “No,” Leonas said. It was the same, but it was different, unfair and he knew it. Leonas rubbed his palm between Minnow’s legs so that she’d grind against him, kissed her harder and tried not to think about being watched. He took his hand away after long enough that she’d whine about it, pulling her hair to kiss her throat and sink his fingers into her breast.

He’d missed touching her. He’d missed the way she let him touch her. He’d missed the way she played along when he asked her to do weird shit.

Leonas pulled back, gratified when she stayed still and let him look at her. Her dishevelment still mild, her eyes wide and wanting.

“There was… something,” he admitted. “I wouldn’t mind testing.”

“Yeah?” she asked.

“With magic,” he added. Minnow looked interested. “Trying to hold you.”

“Yeah,” she said, a little bounce to her thighs. “Test it, I wanna try it.”

Leonas had to get up to retrieve the Sunshield first, setting it closer so that he could channel through it still. He didn’t need to be in direct contact, he’d discovered. Only close enough to filter the light through, in a manner of speaking. It wasn’t how most instruments worked, but most magic didn’t work the way his did, either. His eyes glowed as ribbons of sunlight wrapped around her, binding her arms to her body. She made a sound of interest before making an attempt to resist them. She frowned.

“No,” she said immediately, shaking her head. “I don’t like it. Take it off.”

They dissolved as the sunlight left Leonas’ eyes, and Minnow breathed a sigh of relief. He touched her face again to check that she was okay. “What didn’t you like about it?”

“It didn’t give,” she said, slightly sullen. “I don’t know if I could get out.”

“I wouldn’t trap you,” Leonas said. “I’d let you out as soon as you asked.”

“I know,” she said. “It’s—it makes it different from playing, is all.”

“Okay,” he said, running a hand over her hair. “I won’t do that again.”

“I feel bad,” she sighed. “You wanted to try something new, with your magic.”

“Not if you don’t like it,” he said.

“I could try it,” Karzarul suggested. He was not a Howler, now. He was an Impyr, fully dressed and immaculate, standing still at a distance. He was trying to sound casual, arms crossed, contemplating the horizon. “If you wanted,” he shrugged.

His tail swished behind him, curling in alternating directions.

Leonas stared at him. “Are you… asking?”

Karzarul acquired a faint glow as he continued not looking directly at him. “I’m curious,” he said, which still wasn’t an admission.

Leonas’ eyes glowed again, and ribbons of light wrapped around Karzarul’s body from his shoulders to his elbows. Karzarul’s breath caught, rolling his shoulders. “Oh.”

“Well?” Leonas asked.

“I can’t—” Karzarul’s brow furrowed. “I can’t change,” he said, with a touch of confusion. Leonas dismissed the spell, and Karzarul shifted to a Howler and then back. “That’s. Never happened before.”

“That’s another no, then,” Leonas said.

“I didn’t say that,” Karzarul said, too quickly. He tried to walk it back. “It was weird,” he said, rubbing his neck. “That’s all.”

Light wrapped around his wrists, pulled them down and together before climbing up to his elbows, wrapped all the way around his torso until it reached his shoulders. Karzarul’s eyes widened with a brief thrill of breathless panic before he processed what was happening. It was easier once they looked more like ribbons again, less like light radiating out of him. His pulse continued to race.

“Yes or no?” Leonas asked crisply.

Karzarul let out a shaky breath as he kept testing the limits of the restraint, trying to pull at them or change his form. He could understand now why Minnow wouldn’t like it. There was something uniquely terrifying about being, for the first time, not strong enough to move. He remembered losing battles, remembered dying, but he couldn’t ever remember being locked to a single physical form with restricted movement. His voice kept catching when he tried to speak. “Yeah,” he managed.

“Yeah?” Leonas stood, Minnow moving to sit cross-legged. His eyes were still glowing, twin suns, and Karzarul realized they’d be doing that as long as he was bound. Leonas stayed at enough of a distance to look Karzarul over. He held his palms together in front of his mouth, tilting his head, looking thoughtful as a critic. Karzarul shivered, something about that gaze sparking down his spine.

“Cluttered,” Leonas decided, a quick gesture of his fingers reconfiguring all those ribbons into one thick band around Karzarul’s wrists and another around his chest. And a third, heavy around his neck, hot as blood, a thread of light connecting it to his wrists. Before Karzarul could respond, Leonas pointed downward, and the weight of sunlight yanked him down until his knees hit the ground. The foliage underneath the blanket did not much break his fall.

Fuck.” Karzarul’s arms strained, biting his tongue to try and restrain any more sounds. The tuft at the end of his tail dragged along the ground as it lashed behind him, with occasional thumps. Leonas stepped closer, and the thread connecting Karzarul’s wrists to his neck shortened, pulled his hands higher. Leonas looked downward, and Karzarul followed his gaze.

Karzarul was hard as a rock, his tentacles writhing against his skirt. When he looked back up, Leonas had a wide smile, devastatingly dazzling. Karzarul ducked his head into his own shoulder as if he could hide, something in his chest constricting. The state of him was bad enough, getting that hard that quickly. Worse was whatever that smile had done to him, like wanting or hoping but marred by the vague sense that it was at his expense.

Leonas wrapped a hand around one of his horns, tugged at it to bring his face back around so that he could press a kiss to his mouth. “You’re supposed to like it,” he whispered against his lips. “You look so fucking good like this, I can’t stand it.” Karzarul’s ribs unwound and let him breathe. Leonas ran Karzarul’s hair over his shoulder, pulled loose the ribbon at the end, and starting unweaving the braid. The bells tied into Karzarul’s hair rang as he worked. “Do you know what these sound like?” Leonas asked.

Karzarul thought back. “A low-rent dancing girl?” he suggested.

“Dying,” Leonas said matter-of-factly. “I used to hear them, sometimes.”

“Oh.” Karzarul wondered if he ought to make them disappear to save time, realized he couldn’t.

Leonas raked out the last of the braid, let Karzarul’s hair fall over his shoulders, still ringing when he moved. “I’ve decided I’m going to fix that,” Leonas said briskly, hands under Karzarul’s jaw to tilt his face upward. “I’m going to make them sound like fucking you.”

Oh.” It knocked the air right out of him in a long and shuddering breath, halfway to a groan.

“Give me your full title,” Leonas said.

Karzarul swallowed, struggling for coherence, the glow of Leonas’ eyes fixed on him. “King of All Monsters,” he said finally, “Moonlight Monster King Karzarul.” It didn’t work as well, said all at once. King Monster, Monster King.

“Big scary monster,” Leonas said, pushing two fingers into his mouth, “with big scary monster fangs, and a big scary monster cock.” Karzarul made a small sound, sucking on Leonas’ fingers. Leonas leaned closer, his voice low. “Can’t stop a weak little human from fucking his face.”

Karzarul did groan, then, his whole body shuddering and his hips rolling. His knees would have buckled if he weren’t already on them.

Leonas touched his forehead to Karzarul’s. “I’m going to use you like you’re nothing but a pretty face,” he said, “and you’re going to like it so much that when I’m done you’re going to thank me.” Karzarul moaned. “If I feel teeth, I stop, and you have to watch while I fuck Minnow instead. Who I am well aware has been masturbating the entire time I’ve had my back to her.”

Minnow pulled her hand out from between her thighs and pretended it hadn’t been there.

“Is that clear?” Leonas asked.

Mmph,” Karzarul said, because he still had fingers in his mouth.

“Let me hear you say yes,” Leonas said.

Karzarul’s brow furrowed, unable to think clearly. “Yes,” he said, projecting his voice out from his chest. Leonas pulled his fingers out of Karzarul’s mouth, standing and taking a startled step backward, pressing a hand over his sternum.

Fuck,” he said, alarmed, his eyes and his witchmarks both flaring brighter. Then he started to laugh a little. “You can—that’s how you can always talk, your voice doesn’t actually—okay.” Leonas tried to collect himself. “Sorry, I didn’t expect that.”

“I was supposed to do something else,” Karzarul said, not quite a question.

Still sitting cross-legged on the ground behind Leonas, Minnow stuck two fingers in her mouth. “‘esh,” she said, trying to speak with her mouth full.

“Oh, that’s much hotter than what I did,” Karzarul said, staring at her. “I’ve done that, why did I think—?”

“You’re not here to think,” Leonas said, raking his fingers through the hair between Karzarul’s horns, a boot between his knees. Karzarul’s attention immediately snapped back to Leonas. For the first time he saw the bulge of Leonas’ cock against his trousers, wondered how long it had been like that.

“Right,” Karzarul said, dazed.

“Open,” Leonas ordered, but Karzarul hesitated, wetting his lips. He thought of Minnow, her mouth open wide and her tongue hanging out. It wouldn’t look the same on him, on a monster’s mouth. He settled on what he felt would be an aesthetically pleasing amount, big enough to let him fit. “Tch.” Leonas grabbed one of Karzarul’s horns, used his other hand to unbutton his trousers. Karzarul noticed a slight tremble in his hand. “Like you mean it,” Leonas said. “Like you want to eat me alive.”

Karzarul opened his mouth wide against his better judgement, tongue nearly touching the sunlight collar around his neck.

“That’s better,” Leonas said as he pulled his cock free. He stroked it, already slick with pre-cum. “I’m here to fuck a monster, remember?” Karzarul’s eyes fluttered shut with a moan of satisfaction as Leonas’ cock slid over his tongue, pushed it back into his mouth and pressed against his throat. “Fuck, that’s good.” He grabbed Karzarul’s other horn, held them both, and started to thrust.

Karzarul focused on keeping his teeth out of the way, the friction on his lips enough to make his hips rock. The tentacles around his cock stroked him, but it wasn’t the same as someone else’s touch, wasn’t even the same as his own hand. Karzarul’s nose pressed into Leonas’ pelvis, balls against his chin as Leonas thrust hard enough to make the bells in Karzarul’s hair ring.

“That’s what I want,” Leonas said hoarsely. “That right there, that’s the sound of the Monster King sucking cock like a good boy.”

Karzarul’s muffled groan was loud, a full-body shudder that thumped his tail against the ground as his back arched, trying to thrust against his own thigh for any kind of friction.

“Look at me,” Leonas said, tilting Karzarul’s horns back. Karzarul opened his eyes, looked up at Leonas’ face while he continued to thrust into his mouth. “You my good boy?” Karzarul made a muffled sound in the affirmative. “What a terrible monster you are,” Leonas said with mock scorn. “You’re supposed to try to kill me, but you’d rather get fucked.” Karzarul made another sound of agreement.

Leonas pulled out abruptly, catching his breath. “Minnow,” he said, turning his head.

She pretended to have been keeping her hands on her knees. “Yes?”

“Come sit on your boyfriend’s dick for me,” he said, moving to vacate the space between Karzarul’s knees.

Minnow scrambled up to join them. “Our boyfriend,” she suggested, which brought Leonas up short.

“You know what I meant,” he snapped rather than agree, and she giggled. She bent to move Karzarul’s skirt out of the way, giving his cock an affectionate stroke.

“You’re a wonderful monster,” Minnow assured him. She turned around to kneel between his legs with her dress up around her waist, angling herself to back onto him. The thread binding Karzarul’s wrists to his neck disappeared, the band turning to cuffs with a thread between them. He threw his bound arms over her head to trap her against him. She made a sound of happy surprise, a gasp that turned into a cry when he pulled her down onto his cock. His tentacles guided the way, held her open and let gravity help him sink deeper.

Leonas put himself at an angle to both of them, one leg in front of Minnow and the other beside Karzarul. He set his hand on Minnow’s head to turn it just-so, and she opened her mouth as a reflex, let him thrust between her lips. He pulled out, held one of Karzarul’s horns to angle his head. Karzarul got the idea, opening his mouth and letting Leonas thrust into him again.

Fuck.” Leonas pulled back out, trembling. Minnow wiggled against Karzarul’s grip, bending out from under his arms so that she could grab Leonas’ leg. She clung to him, bent forward, and without warning bit Leonas’ thigh. “Hey!” Leonas grabbed her by the hair. “Cut that shit out.”

She laughed her dangerous laugh, the low one that meant someone was in danger. “I’m helping,” she teased, with a glint in her eye. “You didn’t want to finish yet.”

He didn’t, but he wasn’t going to encourage that kind of behavior from her. He pushed her back into Karzarul. “Keep a better grip on your girlfriend.”

Our girlfriend,” Karzarul corrected, even as he threw his arms over her again, squeezed her tight against his chest and thrust hard upward. Minnow cried out as she bounced, distracted immediately from mischief.

“When she’s biting me, she’s your girlfriend,” Leonas said, watching her move with the force of Karzarul’s thrusts. Something about the aesthetics of it was getting to him. Karzarul still wearing his bells and rings and ribbons and all his perfect clothes, pristine white gloves. Fucking Minnow like he deserved the chains, and her in her dress like he’d caught her in it. Minnow looking as dark next to Karzarul as she looked pale next to Leonas.

“What about when she’s biting me?” Karzarul asked.

“Still your girlfriend,” Leonas said, “because you like it.”

“You don’t?”

“Open your fucking mouth,” Leonas snapped, grabbing Karzarul’s horn again. Karzarul obliged, and Leonas grabbed his second horn, thrust hard enough to make his bells ring again. Minnow cried out as Karzarul thrust into her in turn, the same pace. “Be a good boy and bring her here, she knows what I want.” Minnow opened her mouth without needing to be asked. Karzarul put one arm around both her shoulders, his other hand on the back of her head to hold her closer to Leonas. She ran the wide flat of her tongue over the soft skin of his balls, lapping at him eagerly. Leonas pivoted from thrusting to moving Karzarul’s head, one hand on a horn and the other on the back of his head, making his head bob.

“Growl,” Leonas said suddenly, “I want to hear you growl at me, Karzarul, Karzarul—” Karzarul growled, let it rumble up through his chest and into his mouth, angry and animal. Leonas thrust hard, held Karzarul’s head down with a spasm that nearly doubled him over. His cock twitched in Karzarul’s mouth, pumping heat into his throat. Leonas pulled out halfway before he was done, watched Karzarul take it on his already-white tongue.

“Kiss her for me,” Leonas said breathlessly, pulling away on the brink of collapse. Karzarul bent his head to catch Minnow’s upturned mouth with his, and she hummed as he kissed her. As soon as Karzarul had pulled away Leonas was kneeling beside him, touching his face, barely any space between them. “What do we say?”

Karzarul hesitated as he searched his memory for the significance of the phrase. Minnow recognized the problem as soon as Leonas spoke, leaned her head back against Karzarul’s shoulder. “When someone gives us something we want,” she said, in the fluting sing-song voice she only used mid-coitus, “we thank them.”

It occurred to Leonas for the first time that, if Karzarul had ever been anything like a child learning manners, he had not been taught in Astian turns of phrase.

It also occurred to him that trying to get Minnow to act like she lived in a society since they were young may have negatively impacted his sense of what constituted an acceptable thing to say to a person while his dick was out.

“Thank you,” Karzarul said before Leonas could start spiraling, and Leonas kissed him, tasted bitter salt on his tongue. The sunlight restraints all disappeared, Leonas’ eyes losing their glow though his witchmarks stayed bright. He fastened his trousers back up, moving to stand in front of them both. He nudged Minnow’s knees further apart so that he could kneel between them, pressing a hard kiss to her mouth that caught her groan as Karzarul thrust deeper.

Leonas pushed Minnow’s knees higher, her louder cries still muffled on his tongue. “Can you hold these?” he asked Karzarul, who obliged by hooking his hands under her thighs. Minnow reached up and behind herself to hold onto Karzarul, fingers tangling into his hair and gripping the back of his neck. Leonas leaned back to see them better, Minnow bouncing as Karzarul’s cock pounded into her.

Leonas resisted the temptation to examine it in earnest, that hard white organ all run through with light. It was fascinating and terrifying, all those tentacles around it holding Minnow open and giving Leonas a clear view of exactly what Karzarul was doing to her. He was trying not to feel inadequate or intimidated about it. It helped to remind himself that he’d asked them to do it, to think of it as something he’d done, using them on each other.

Leonas kissed Minnow’s shoulders, her neck, a trail down her sternum. He got down onto his stomach, and with tentacles holding her open he had full access to suck on her clit.

Minnow’s scream was almost concerning. Her thighs trembled and shook, spasming around Karzarul and her orgasm dripping down the length of him.

Leonas brought his tongue lower until it was running over Karzarul’s cock while it thrust. Friction on his tongue, hard skin soaked with the taste of Minnow, the low shuddering sound Karzarul made. Tentacles sought out Leonas’ mouth, and he let them in. He maneuvered to suck on Minnow’s clit again, this time sucking on tentacles at the same time.

The sound Minnow made could not quite be called screaming, ripped ragged out of her as all the air was knocked out of her lungs. A whimpering and choked-off sound when he kept at it, letting go of Karzarul because she couldn’t hold onto anything. She moved like she might push him away, but her back kept arching and her limbs kept twitching.

“I can’t,” she half-sobbed, “I can’t, I can’t, please, it’s so much it’s too much I’m—”

Karzarul held her down and thrust upward, growling low and loud right in her ear as he came. She shuddered, practically limp against his chest as Leonas eased up and Karzarul filled her. Silver spilled out of her and down Karzarul’s shaft, and Leonas licked at it. He couldn’t place the taste, only knew that it was different, was not the taste of human arousal or satisfaction. When he pulled back he could see the twitch of it, the pulsing of the light running through it.

Leonas pulled himself back up to his knees to kiss Minnow first. She barely kissed him back, though she giggled at the taste of him. Karzarul let her legs fall to around Leonas’ waist. She sighed, resting her head against Karzarul’s shoulder as Leonas moved to kiss him. He was gentler with Karzarul, was always gentler and more careful. This time Karzarul ventured to touch him back, the slightest brush of his fingertips against Leonas’ jaw. Leonas grabbed his hand to hold it there and touched a kiss to the very center of his palm. Karzarul buried his face in Minnow’s hair, expression hidden as he took a deep breath.

“I have to get up,” Minnow apologized, patting Karzarul’s leg underneath her. “I’ll be back in a minute, okay?” She managed with great effort to pull herself off of him and onto her feet, though her legs were wobbly. “Oooh, that’s—that’s a mess.” She tried to tug her dress down, and made her way toward the other side of an enormous tree.

Leonas was still holding Karzarul’s hand. He wasn’t sure what to do with it. Ordinarily when Minnow disappeared into the bathroom he used that as his opportunity to have a minor crisis about everything he’d done while he was too busy being hard to have any sense. Karzarul’s presence complicated matters. With Minnow he could pet her hair, and make himself feel better by telling her she’d done well. Minnow was not the ancient King of All Monsters, present at the forging of every great artifact that had helped shape the world. That Karzarul had humored his orders even briefly felt absurd, and Leonas found himself working not to think about it.

“Leonas,” Minnow called as she returned, holding her hands at arm’s length. “I don’t know where we put the soap and I don’t want to waste liquor, can you magic me?” she asked. Her hands glowed bright, and she squeaked, shaking them out. “That burned a little,” she complained.

“Sunlight does that,” Leonas reminded her. “Did I hurt you?”

“No, just surprised me.” She gestured at Karzarul. “I want a lap,” she ordered, and so he rearranged himself and his skirt so that he was sitting with his legs straight out. Instead of sitting, she laid herself across his thighs on her stomach and hummed when he ran a hand over her back. She propped her chin up on her elbows. “That was really good,” she informed Leonas.

“Thanks,” he said.

“I liked the part where you sort of switched between us,” she added. “That was a good idea.” She tilted her head back to look in Karzarul’s direction. “Right?”

“Right,” Karzarul said, though not confidently. He was looking down at Minnow as he stroked her back, untangling locks of her hair with his fingers.

“I liked all the things you were saying,” she added. “I know those were for Karzarul, but it sorta worked on me at the same time.”

“I appreciate the feedback?” Leonas said.

“I know you feel bad sometimes,” she sighed. “Afterwards. If you think it was a failed experiment.”

“Yeah,” Leonas said.

“I had a good time,” she said. “Did you?”

“Obviously.”

“It’s not obvious,” she said.

“Ah.” He reached out to tap the tip of her nose. “It was good.”

“Good,” Minnow said with a touch of relief.

“Cover your ears for a minute,” he said. She obliged immediately, pressing her palms over them and shutting her eyes even though he hadn’t asked. Leonas stood and made his way around Karzarul, hand lingering at his shoulder. “Would it be patronizing if I—”

“No.”

Leonas slid his hands along Karzarul’s shoulders, underneath his hair. He knelt, wrapping his arms around him, and pressed a kiss to the side of his neck. “You were good,” Leonas said, holding him tighter. “You’re beautiful.”

“Too nice,” Karzarul said.

“That was hot as fuck,” Leonas corrected. Karzarul leaned back a little. “You liked it?”

“Yeah,” Karzarul confirmed.

“I don’t actually know what I’m doing,” Leonas admitted.

“Neither do I,” Karzarul said.

“You’re very intimidating,” Leonas said.

“I know,” Karzarul said.

“You have a lot more experience,” Leonas said.

“You’d be surprised,” Karzarul said. “I don’t date much.”

“I suppose that makes sense,” Leonas said.

“Is it a secret?” Karzarul asked. “That you don’t know what you’re doing.”

“No,” Leonas said. “She knows me too well. She can hear what I don’t say. If that makes sense.”

“It does,” Karzarul said.

“I’ve begun to care about you very much,” Leonas said, “which does not mean that I like you.”

“Oh.”

Leonas kissed Karzarul’s temple, rising and coming back around to tap Minnow on the head. Minnow released her ears, moving to sit upright in Karzarul’s lap this time. “Good talk?” she asked.

“Yes,” Leonas said.

Minnow patted her lap. Leonas sat on the blanket next to Karzarul and dropped his head onto Minnow’s thighs. She stroked his hair, resting her head against Karzarul’s shoulder. “Can we all snuggle like this at night, now?” she asked.

Leonas huffed. “Don’t push your luck.”

Astielle: Chapter Twenty-Six

“We should go see a play,” Minnow suggested. “Or we could go to a restaurant! A nice one, with tables.”

Minnow had amused herself kissing Karzarul thoroughly and at length, allowing Leonas to finally finish taking his notes in peace. Karzarul had not realized the extent to which she had been restraining herself to be considerate. She’d been holding Karzarul’s hand since they’d stood to leave. Leonas had grudgingly accepted her hand when she offered. She had not let them go since.

“I don’t know where you think we’re going to be able to do either of those things,” Leonas said.

“Girlfriends go on dates,” Minnow insisted. “Go to shows, and have picnics.”

“We already went to at least one show,” Leonas said, “and picnicking is indistinguishable from how you normally eat.”

“That wasn’t a date,” Minnow said. “You weren’t my boyfriends yet so it didn’t count. And it isn’t a picnic unless we have a big quilt, and a special basket with at least five different kinds of cheese.”

“We could do that,” Karzarul said.

“Don’t encourage her,” Leonas said. Karzarul squeezed Minnow’s hand tighter, and she squeezed back. “All we’ve done is given a name to whatever we already had, it doesn’t have to be a whole thing.”

“I want it to be a whole thing,” Minnow said. “That’s why I wanted the name. Names are important.”

“That’s rich, coming from you,” Leonas said.

“Am I misremembering,” Karzarul said, “or did she name your horse Cum?”

“Frederick,” Leonas snapped. “It wasn’t a horse, it was an extremely rare variety of beetle. It was a gift, from her, which I made the mistake of thanking her for before I asked if she wanted to be the one to name it.”

Karzarul raised an eyebrow. “You thanked her by…?”

Leonas grew flustered, turning both bright and red. “Have you met her?” he demanded. Minnow beamed.

“Your Highness,” came a call from off the path. Karzarul rolled his eyes as Leonas stopped to try to locate Violet. Violet waved from where he’d been standing in the trees. “Am I interrupting?” Violet asked, fanning himself and making no move to join them.

“I shouldn’t think so,” Leonas said. He glanced down at where Minnow was holding his hand but didn’t pull away.

“Unfortunately this is more of a practical question than a fun one,” Violet said, strolling closer to the path. “If we were able to provide the materials, would you be willing to enchant us a few Seeing Stones?” He clutched his fans two-handed with an apologetic half-bow. “As of right now we lose all communication as soon as you leave the mountain. I’m sure you can understand why I find this unacceptable.”

“Of course,” Leonas said. “I would need a little time, and some of the materials are a bit…”

“We can get the materials,” Violet said. “Put together a list whenever you have a moment, I’m sure His Majesty will let me know when he needs me.” Violet fluttered his highest fan, used the lower one to gesture to Minnow’s hands. “I see Lady Minnow is doing well.”

Minnow held up the two men’s hands. “They’re my boyfriends now,” she said.

“They weren’t before?” Violet asked.

“Not officially,” Minnow said, lowering their hands. “Now they have to take me on dates.”

“Congratulations,” Violet said sweetly, giving Karzarul a sly look through his eyelashes. Karzarul didn’t look at him. “Might I trouble the Royal Girlfriend for a private audience with His Majesty?” He did not ask Karzarul.

“You may,” Minnow said magnanimously, letting Karzarul go although he didn’t seem to want to.

“I won’t be long,” Karzarul said, stepping off the path to follow Violet. “What is it now?” Karzarul asked when they were out of earshot of the other two.

“Congrats on the girlfriend,” Violet said instead of answering, fluttering his fans, one of his wings stretching outward to nudge Karzarul’s shoulder. Karzarul crossed his arms and kicked a rock ahead of them. “I assume the roaring was related. We could all hear that by the way. It carries. That’s how roaring works.” Karzarul kicked the rock further this time, glowing. “She seems very into that, good for her. I assume you’ve reached a wary truce with the perfidious Heir.”

“I hate you,” Karzarul said.

“Did you figure it out already?” Violet asked, delighted.

Karzarul kicked a rock hard enough to go through the trunk of a tree. “… Minnow thought I was flirting on purpose,” he admitted.

Violet cackled and clapped both pairs of hands as Karzarul fumed. “Oh, I do like her,” Violet said. “Obviously. I thought for sure it would be at least another decade before you noticed, if you ever did.”

“Fuck off,” Karzarul said, and Violet fluttered his fans again.

“As to the other matter I wanted to discuss,” Violet said, “you’re definitely not going to be able to stay here long-term. The level of fucky energy coming off of you right now is untenable.”

“I’ll eat you,” Karzarul warned.

“Don’t I wish,” Violet said. “I’m not kidding, though. The Brutelings and Bullizards get a little rowdy, which is fine, but you’re going to get into a loop with the Taurils. They’re going to start knocking shit over trying to do the Vaelean every time they see your girlfriend looking cute.”

“That’s not a thing,” Karzarul snapped.

Rather than argue, Violet turned, backing up to the nearest tree only to lean against it with his upper-right elbow. “Hey,” he said with his voice pitched low as Karzarul bristled. Violet waggled his eyebrows. “This would look charmingly casual,” he said in his mock-imitation voice, “if I were a soft little man instead of huge and horny.”

Karzarul hissed and grabbed at him as Violet laughed, twirling around the tree in a flutter of sleeves and feathers. “Don’t threaten me with a good time,” Violet warned. “We both know we’re getting mixed up already.”

Karzarul huffed and tried to fix his hair, glowing. “Whatever.”

“You’re going to need more time to get all this fuckiness out of your system,” Violet said, gesturing to Karzarul with a folded fan. “Which is fine, love that for you, but some of us are trying to get some work done.”

“It’s weird,” Karzarul said, “that you’re so… proactive.” He didn’t think that was the word, but couldn’t think of a better one. He’d tried to be something like that, a long time ago, tried having goals and working toward them. He’d given up quickly. He’d never done it for its own sake.

Violet shrugged. “I like it,” he said. “Being useful, fixing problems.” He held up a fan and one of his wings as a shield to stage whisper. “Especially being useful for the sort of person who has a lot of bureaucracy problems.” He winked dramatically.

“Dammit,” Karzarul muttered, rubbing above his eyebrow. Violet started to giggle. “That’s.” Karzarul rubbed his face with both hands. “Fuck.” Violet cackled. “I’m so fucking stupid,” Karzarul said, muffled.

“Don’t I know it,” Violet said with a shake of his wings and a wiggle of his shoulders, sticking out his tongue. “Anyway, since you’ll be leaving soon—”

“I never agreed to that.”

“—I thought you might benefit from a little to-do list.” Violet produced a neatly folded piece of paper with a flourish.

Karzarul narrowed his eyes. “Did you write me a quest log.”

“It’s a good idea,” Violet said. “Your girlfriend has a lot of good ideas. Like that bit with the wooden swords, loved that.” Violet unfolded the paper. “First one’s a gimme, see about doing something about the king who kept killing your boyfriend.”

“Minnow’s boyfriend,” Karzarul corrected.

“Sure,” Violet said. “I assume she’ll be taking point on that one, it’s only on here because it would be weird if it wasn’t. Item number two, work on our image.”

“Absolutely not.”

“Listen,” Violet said, “I get it. Really, I do. It isn’t fair that you have to explain and justify the fact that you exist. You ought to be able to mind your own business. I’m not arguing with that. But Jonys had the right idea. It didn’t do anyone any good, in the end, standing back and letting him be the face of you. If you’d stood by him instead of standing back, gone with him when he—”

“I’m not talking about that right now,” Karzarul said.

Violet sighed. “I know you’re not,” he said, fanning himself. “There was a window there, a brief window, when you hadn’t given up on personhood yet. When we could travel and trade. Monsters made the best mercenaries and threw the best parties. They almost liked us, outside of Aekhite. Even within Aekhite, it was only the Imperial government that didn’t like us.”

“It’s safer this way.”

“It would be a lovely thing,” Violet sighed, “if every King felt his wars so keenly. But it’s given you a skewed perspective, you must realize that. All you remember is the dying. All I remember, don’t forget about that. Impyrs and Savagewings remember, even if we never felt it. But there were other times, before and after. It isn’t the same when you can feel the worst times and only hear about the good ones. You wouldn’t believe how delighted Indie was to be around humans again. He ought to have the option, if he wants it. Go places. Do things. Meet people.”

Karzarul rubbed at his eyes. “I know. I know. No one’s stopping him. Any of you.”

“For now,” Violet said. “You always say that, let everyone scatter and do as they will. Until the next time someone turns against monsters, and you decide the only thing to be done is to stay out of their way. In those early years, you just…” Violet sighed again. “You wanted to be useful,” Violet said. “We all want to be useful. You left us in all the places you would have been if you hadn’t been following Vaelon. It isn’t any wonder we got hurt, when you treated us as an extension of yourself. Look what you do to yourself.”

Karzarul had already turned away from Violet, arms crossed tight. “I thought you were trying to give me a quest,” he said curtly.

“I’m not saying you have to go around telling everyone that monsters are great,” Violet said. “What I am saying is that, in most places in most of the world, a monster isn’t any more alien a thing than a Starlight Hero. Or a prince with witchmarks that glow. You’re not any more terrifying than they are. You’re more obvious about it, but that’s all. Stay with them, let them introduce you. Stop letting other people tell the story of us. Lie, if you must, but at least make it yours.”

“I’ll think about it,” Karzarul said.

“I’ll take it,” Violet said. “A small victory still counts. Item number three—”

“We’re still doing this?”

“I’ll be done when I’m done,” Violet said. “Three ties back into two, most of the Hollow monsters weren’t in Astielle.”

“What?” Karzarul turned back around.

“Within Astielle’s borders he was obvious, left them in places he didn’t want people. Neighboring countries have it worst, those are the, ah. The ones I mentioned before, do nothing but attack. Very convenient for him. He’s at war with five countries that don’t even know it.”

“I hate this political shit,” Karzarul muttered.

“I know, baby, I know,” Violet said with a dismissive wave of one fan. “Some of the Savagewings and Impyrs have been helping out, that’s why it ties into the second point. It doesn’t fix anything, but it does help to have someone this pretty—” Violet gestured to his own face with two empty hands. “—showing up to say that they’ve been given full authority by the Monster King himself to dispatch all interlopers. I made you a Royal Seal and then used it to save time, I assume that’s fine.”

“Yeah, that’s fine,” Karzarul said. “Wait,” he amended. “What’s it look like?” Violet reached into one of his sleeves and produced what looked like a small statue of a Rootboar. He turned it to display the seal underneath the base, a crescent with a crown of forget-me-nots in the center that made it look like horns. It was set in the circle of a full moon, but on closer inspection, the pattern of its craters were instead the petals of a carnation. “Okay, yeah. That’s fine. Why is it a Rootboar?”

“Everyone likes a Rootboar,” Violet shrugged, putting the seal away. “It might be a good time to consider visiting places outside Astielle to let them know they’re at war. Or don’t! Ignore the quest log, see if I care. Fourth item, this is the last one.”

“Thank fuck.”

“Black Drakonis,” Violet said.

“Oh no,” Karzarul said.

“I know what you’re thinking,” Violet said, “but I don’t know where she is.”

“What?”

“One of the last things I remember from when I was you,” Violet said, “was that she didn’t come back. Every other monster that died while you were gone came back, except for Black Drakonis. We’ve been looking, we’ve been listening, we have nothing. No sightings, no rumors. Nothing.”

“That doesn’t make any sense,” Karzarul said.

“No shit,” Violet said. “That’s why it’s on the list. Actually, I lied about this being the last one, I’m adding another one.” He pulled a pen from his sleeve and scratched something out in loose handwriting, holding the page against an open fan to write against. “Twenty-one years ago, Leonas said something about that. You were distracted being jealous at the time.”

“Was not.”

“Was too.” Violet put his pen away, waiting for the ink to dry before folding the page back up. “He tried to ask quickly and move on, it reminded me of you. When you’re avoiding a conversation.”

“If he doesn’t want to talk about it, he doesn’t have to.”

“You don’t have to interrogate him,” Violet said. “Keep it in mind if the conversation goes in that direction.”

“Nosy,” Karzarul accused.

“Don’t act like you’re not curious, now that I’ve said something.” Violet handed Karzarul the folded page. “Don’t eat it,” he warned.

“I wasn’t going to eat it,” Karzarul lied, tucking it into a pocket of his tunic.

“I’m well aware you’re going to do whatever the Hero wants to do,” Violet said. “But maybe you’ll learn how to multi-task, miracles happen every day.” He turned on his heel, heading back toward an area of the winding path further down the mountain. “My job is done, let’s get you back to your girl so I can get back to fussing with my hair until Sid gets here.”

“What?” Karzarul took longer steps to catch up to Violet, getting ahead of him and walking backward. “Sid?” he asked. “Obsidian? Really?”

“Don’t sound so surprised,” Violet said. “We don’t all have your issues. Some of us even like us.”

Sid, though,” Karzarul said, turning around. Violet caught him around the shoulders with one arm and around the waist with another, leaning against him as they kept walking.

“Yes, well,” Violet said. “Somehow, I seem to have ended up with a predilection for men who find me insufferable.” Violet brought his face close to Karzarul’s, as Karzarul ignored him and tried to keep his eyes on the ground ahead. “Isn’t that weird?” Violet pressed. “I wonder why that might be. What a fascinating mystery this is.”

Karzarul finally batted at one of Violet’s antennae, and Violet hissed as he turned his head, stroking the sensitive fluff to set it back to rights. “I’m not happy about it either,” Karzarul pointed out.

“I never said I wasn’t happy about it,” Violet said. “I’ve already embraced that sometimes in life, I will see a large man with baggage and want nothing more to see how much dick it takes before he doesn’t have room for it. For some reason.”

“Stop trying to flirt,” Karzarul said, and Violet giggled, fluttering one fan and making no move to let Karzarul go. “At least pretend to have better standards.”

“If the Moon Goddess didn’t want us to be sluts,” Violet said loftily, “then She should have given us a gag reflex when She had the chance.”

Karzarul snorted, covering his mouth to smother an ugly laugh. Violet cackled, squeezing him in a side-hug.

That’s more like it,” Violet said triumphantly. “Things are looking up, act like it.”

“Don’t say that,” Karzarul said. “Someone will hear you.”

Violet let Karzarul go with a pat on the back with two hands, falling back to a more appropriate position for a King’s advisor. Karzarul stepped back onto the path, but Minnow and Leonas hadn’t made it that far. Karzarul had to backtrack higher to find where Leonas was holding a bundle of flowers, Minnow bent to pick another one from underneath a fern.

“There was a delay,” Leonas said flatly as Minnow stood back up. She pulled a leaf off a tall stalk and squinted at it. Then she stuck it in her mouth and started chewing. Leonas did a double-take when he noticed. “What are you—what do you have? Are you eating something? What’s in your mouth, spit it out.” Minnow retreated when Leonas tried to grab her, swallowing fast. “Don’t just eat leaves for fuck’s sake.”

“Leaves are food,” she said.

Some leaves,” Leonas said. “You can’t eat leaves as a category. They have to be edible.”

“Those are edible,” Minnow said. “I ate one.”

Leonas took a closer look at the plant. “It’s powdery,” he said. “That can’t be good. This is—what even is this.”

“It’s spinach,” Minnow said.

Leonas tore off a leaf and held it up incredulously. “Is this what you think spinach is?” he demanded. “Have you been putting leaves you found on the roadside in our food?”

“Only if the recipe calls for it,” she said.

“Sweet Sun above.” Leonas dropped the leaf, rubbing waxy powder from his fingers. He was still holding the flowers Minnow had foisted off onto him in his other hand. “Sorry about the distraction,” he said to Karzarul and Violet. “I meant to tell you before, the broken Door was fascinating but I doubt we’ll be able to do anything with it. Most contemporary research suggests the opening of a Door was done separate from its construction. Whatever enchantments could accomplish it were lost when the Sunlight Empire fell, we’ve only barely started to recover even some of what they had.”

“Oh!” Violet said with a wide-eyed flutter of his eyelashes. “You call it the Sunlight Empire, that’s fun and not creepy at all. Totally lost technology, then.”

“I’m afraid so,” Leonas said.

“It was the ancient empire that built all of those,” Violet said rather than asked, gesturing with a closed fan as if to a tiny map.

“… yes.”

Violet turned to look at Karzarul, who was watching Minnow crouch and inspect the petals of a wildflower. “How odd,” Violet said, fluttering his fans. “When would this lost empire have built a Rainbow Door in our castle, I wonder.”

Minnow looked up from her flower, and Karzarul smiled at her. She smiled back.

“When they built the rest of it, I would assume,” Leonas said.

“Oh!” Violet said with another flutter. “Did they? Build? Our castle?”

“Someone must have,” Leonas said. “Most ruins past a certain age, it’s safe to assume they were Imperial.”

Minnow stood and offered Karzarul a flower. He brought it to his nose and inhaled deeply. Minnow did the same, then bit down on the petals and started eating it. Karzarul took that as permission to do the same. She looked pleased that he appreciated it.

“Right,” Violet said. “So then, they would have built a castle on an impassable mountain, put a Rainbow Door in it, and then… we would have politely asked if we could have it?”

“Ah,” Leonas said, realizing he’d erred. “I’m not accusing you of anything. Fort Astielle is built entirely on Imperial ruins. I know that monsters don’t really…” He paused, and looked further down the mountain, where Brutelings were building their strange little neighborhood. “Don’t usually,” he amended, before stopping again. “Lately,” he tried, before giving up, eyes narrowed in thought as he turned his head back around. “Hm.”

“Hm,” Violet agreed, covering the lower half of his face with a fan. “I’m sure you all have a lot to not talk about,” he said, glancing toward Karzarul. “I’ll leave you to it, Your Highness,” he said. “Good luck.” He took a deep bow before leaping upward to take off. The jump gave him enough height before his wings beat that the motion of the air didn’t disrupt Leonas’ hair.

Leonas looked at the flowers in his hand. “Did you want these?” he asked Minnow, a little stiffly.

“For me?” she gasped.

“… they’re yours.”

“They’re beautiful,” she said, taking the collection of random wildflowers like a bouquet.

“I. Okay.” He raked a hand through his curls and followed as Minnow headed down the mountain, Karzarul not far behind.


“Are we still doing this?” Karzarul asked, taking form an Impyr again.

Leonas shrugged. “Might as well,” he said, sitting in nothingness. “Is that a problem?”

Karzarul shrugged in turn, creating a field that stretched in all directions. Leonas drew his knees up close to his chest again.

“You don’t have to cater to me,” Leonas said. “You can ignore me and do… whatever.”

Karzarul raised an eyebrow, and Leonas rubbed his face.

“Not like that,” Leonas amended. “I’m not trying to be a voyeur. Even if it keeps happening.

“Uh-huh,” Karzarul said.

“Was there…” Leonas sighed, uncurling to lay back in the grass. “Was there any point to that?” he asked, watching a too-real cloud drift overhead. “Taking notes, studying that Door.”

“I don’t know anything about enchanting,” Karzarul said. “I don’t know how they work. If you want to try making another, you’re on your own.”

“Okay,” Leonas said, taking a deep breath. “I thought that maybe—I don’t know what I thought.” He clasped his hands over his stomach. “Busywork.”

“You were right,” Karzarul said. “That it only keeps it open.” He added mountains to the horizon, something to make the unnatural expanse look better. “The Starsword cuts them open.”

“Oh.”

“Vaelon was the only one who could do it.” He set a lake in the distance for good measure.

Leonas, watching the sky, was oblivious to the changing landscape. “He was the first?” he asked tentatively.

“Right,” Karzarul said. “I forgot you weren’t actually part of that conversation.”

“Yeah,” Leonas said. “You didn’t want to say that, about the Starsword. Around Minnow.”

“I did not.” Karzarul adjusted the ground to add rolling hills toward the mountains.

“Is it a bad sign? That she can’t seem to use its powers.”

“They’re all different. Vaelon could cut holes through space, but that was all. Jonys could summon powers greater than any Hero before or since, but he couldn’t do what Vaelon could. It doesn’t seem to hinder her.”

“Okay,” Leonas said, silent for a while. “I worry that her time in the Faewild, our being out of sync, that it broke us,” he said finally. “Secretly, I always did think there must have been another Heir. A missing one. The one that was supposed to be Minnow’s. Except she died, whoever she was, and Minnow was lost, and now we’re mismatched.”

“You’re not meant to be a matched set,” Karzarul said. The idea irritated him unduly. “It’s random. Like any other pair of people.”

“It would have made more sense,” Leonas said. “If we were broken. If that’s why it feels like this. Like someone made a mistake somewhere, picked the wrong person to be this.”

“I think that’s what it’s supposed to feel like,” Karzarul said, adding forests around the distant lake.

“Great,” Leonas sighed. “Did I offend Violet?”

“No.”

“It seemed like I offended him.”

“Don’t worry about him.”

“I like him,” Leonas said. “He’s nice.”

“That’s what he wants you to think.”

“It’s working,” Leonas said. “You should try it.”

The dream clouds above turned dark and started to pour rain exclusively on Leonas. He shot upright, sputtering, and darted out of the raincloud’s limited range. The water stopped immediately as Leonas tried to wipe water from his face.

Childish,” Leonas said, shaking water off his arms.

“Am not.”

“Are you jealous?” Leonas asked.

“I don’t have to be,” Karzarul said. “I can look just like him.” He changed Leonas’ clothes out for dry ones, took the water out of his hair.

Leonas looked down at himself. “Have you been able to do that this entire time?” he asked warily.

“Yes?” Karzarul frowned. “I don’t know why you’re saying it like that. You’re not the one that got put in an awkward position.”

Leonas blushed under his glow. “That was an accident.” He looked around at the dreamscape, all vast and unnatural and perfect. “We don’t have a record of it,” he said. “What my name was. All the emperors were named Aekhite, is what I’ve read.”

“Lynette.”

“Oh.” Leonas paused, then rubbed at the bridge of his nose. “I don’t know why I thought that would do something. Like I’d hear it and remember something. Anything. Can you tell me about her?”

“No.”

“Okay.”

“Not now,” Karzarul added.

“Okay,” Leonas said. He pushed at his cuticles with his thumbnails. “I’m trying to reconcile it,” he said. “The legends and the memories with the person who leaves his clothes on the floor, and…”

“And?” Karzarul prompted.

“And,” Leonas said like it was an answer.

Karzarul did not move closer, simply was closer, all dream logic and moonlight. Leonas didn’t flinch. “And what?” Karzarul asked. His tail swished behind him. Leonas traced a fingertip over the edges of the embroidery in Karzarul’s tunic, not looking at his face. Karzarul stilled.

“And makes me flowers, sometimes,” Leonas said.

“Oh.”

“The story goes,” Leonas said, “that the Sunlight Empire reached anywhere the Sun Goddess could shine. Seeing all its glory and its worship made the Moon Goddess jealous. So She made monsters, who stole the Emperor’s sons. But the Sun Goddess blessed his only daughter, and so she became the Sunlight Empress, who would usher in a new era of prosperity for the Empire. The Star Goddess saw this divine avatar, and in trying to make her own, the ones she touched became witches. Though the Sunlight Empress should not have borne the insult of their creation, the most powerful of the witches was a man of such charm that he could seduce the Goddesses Themselves. The Empress was seduced; but so, too, was the monster called Karzarul. He came to the Empress with promises of peace, and brought her stories of the Fairy King and the great weapons he could forge. She did not know, until it was too late, that such a weapon could kill an avatar of the Sun; he did not know, until the deed was done, that with their souls so bound the Empress would never truly die.”

“About how wrong is that?” Leonas asked, voice different once he wasn’t reciting.

“Completely,” Karzarul said.

“Figures,” Leonas said.

“He was very charming,” Karzarul corrected. “That wasn’t wrong.”

“I like enchanting,” Leonas sighed. “It’s obvious when something’s wrong, because it doesn’t work.” He leaned closer to Karzarul, didn’t quite rest his head against his chest. “You could tell me stories, sometime. Different ones.”

“Would you believe them?”

“I try not to believe things,” Leonas said, “if I can help it.”


True to his word, Violet was able to acquire the necessary materials for Seeing Stones in a matter of hours. Minnow made herself scarce before Leonas could start working because watching him work would only make her want to distract him. She thought it best to keep Karzarul away for the same reason. They had a lot in common, that way.

They had a lot in common a lot of ways. She didn’t know if that was a Hero thing, or a changeling thing. She thought it must be a Hero thing. It was nice to think they got along this time because a changeling was more like a monster. It felt more likely that they got along because a changeling was less like a Hero. She didn’t think they’d get along as well if she were like him in the wrong ways. In his sharp edges and bluster, in the competitive parts of him. If she were fearful and uncertain and angry.

Minnow used the long morning to work on maps. She liked to work in a sketchbook first, big picture overviews followed by picking sections to draw in more detail. Interesting things, landmarks. Deciding what was worth adding to the big map.

Ari stayed in Tauril form, walling her off with the way he lay on the ground. He touched her intermittently as she worked, though not in a way that felt like a request or an invitation. Idle fondling, the same way he stroked her hair or ran his fingers down her back. Touching for the sake of touching. She understood the impulse. Sometimes it made her sad that Leonas couldn’t stand it. Some other time she and Ari would have to trade places, let her play with his hair and explore all the shapes of him when he wasn’t all wrapped up in her. He had so many bodies she could learn. She wanted to map all of them with her fingers until she could draw them from memory on the backs of her eyelids. Bask in the smell of him, like a clean sword in fresh snow.

The other monsters weren’t like him. Their bodies weren’t like his. They were flesh and blood like she was. Ari was nothing but a soul made solid. She didn’t know how much of himself he did on purpose. Not that much, was her guess. She was getting a sense for the deliberate things. The too-pretty, too-perfect things. Same as anyone else, that way, even if he had an advantage.

She was still sketching when Leonas tracked them down, his work done. “Am I interrupting?” he asked.

“No,” Minnow said, though Ari had an enormous hand up her shirt. “You got the Seeing Stones done already?”

“I’ve done it before,” Leonas shrugged. “We tested them, they seem to be working as they should.”

“We?” Ari asked, taking his hands off of Minnow to sit upright.

“Violet helped me,” Leonas said.

“I didn’t know you needed help,” Ari said.

“I didn’t,” Leonas said. “Until the end, when I needed to test them. I needed to give him a Seeing Stone anyway.”

“Hm,” Ari said.

“Also he sucked my dick,” Leonas added. Ari stiffened.

“Really?” Minnow asked, perking up immediately.

“No,” Leonas said. Ari scowled even though he relaxed. “Would it be a problem if he had?”

“I don’t care where you put your dick,” Ari lied. Leonas looked upward, thoughtful. His eyes glowed, and the clouds above swirled. There was a crack of lightning in the otherwise sunny sky. Minnow clapped as Ari shifted uncomfortably.

“That’s surprisingly easy,” Leonas said as the light faded, letting the clouds disperse. “Good to know.”

“Are we going to need that?” Minnow wondered.

“Maybe,” Leonas said. “Violet mentioned something about heading out today?”

“The other monsters find my presence distracting,” Karzarul said. “Visiting is fine, long-term stays will be inadvisable until everything is… settled.”

“Should we make a plan?” Leonas asked. “Start questing?”

“No,” Minnow said firmly. “We’re decompressing.” While she was not an expert, it felt likely that attempted filicide was the sort of thing that took longer than a week to deal with as a thing that happened.

“I do not find it relaxing to be idle,” Leonas said carefully.

“You’re not going to be idle,” Minnow said. “You’re going to be doing boyfriend things with me, because we couldn’t before.”

Leonas ran a hand through his curls. “That’s something you want?”

“Very much,” Minnow said.

“Okay,” Leonas said. “I can work on that. We’ll have to find somewhere else to stay.”

“I have a list,” Minnow said, patting her bag.

“Of course you do,” Leonas said.

“There’s a lot of abandoned places out in the middle of nowhere,” she said. “If they’re in good spots sometimes I keep stuff there.”

“You’re rich,” Leonas reminded her. “Don’t steal houses.”

“It’s not stealing,” Minnow insisted. “No one’s using them.”

“You said that about the pumpkins, too.”

“If someone else wants them, they can have them,” Minnow said. “But they don’t, so they’re mine. There’s a bunch that would be good for picnics. One of them is a boat!”

“Not that one,” Leonas said.

“Okay,” she said. She looked up at Karzarul. “We can get stuff for picnics, right?” she asked. “Or should I stop somewhere first, for fancy cheese?”

“I’m sure we can figure something out.”

Astielle: Chapter Twenty-Five

NSFW Content Warnings
Maledom ❤ Sadism/Masochism ❤ Fighting as Foreplay ❤ Edging ❤ Biting with Fangy Teeth (no blood) ❤ Bruises/Scrapes ❤ Physical Restraint ❤ Voyeurism ❤ Size Difference ❤ Cunnilingus ❤ Penetrative Sex ❤ Weird Monster Dicks❤ Penis-in-Vagina Sex ❤ Tentacles ❤ Anal Tentacle Sex ❤ Multiple Orgasms ❤ Rough Sex ❤ Dirty Talk

Leonas choked on his congee. Karzarul looked between him and Minnow.

“If he was your boyfriend,” Karzarul said, “what would I be?”

“Also my boyfriend,” Minnow said. “Either you’re both my boyfriend or no one’s my boyfriend.”

“Oh.” Karzarul looked down at his bowl. “That seems fine, then.”

He and Leonas had spent all morning carefully avoiding eye contact.

“See?” Minnow said to Leonas. “It’s fine.”

Leonas finished off his meal with an impressive amount of speed considering the dainty size of the bites he took. “Right,” he said, sliding his seat back to stand. “I’m going to go wash this,” he said, taking his bowl and heading for the kitchen.

Sort of a kitchen. It wasn’t entirely a house yet.

“I wasn’t trying to put you on the spot,” she called after him. “Don’t feel obligated!” She sighed as she contemplated her congee.

“What brought that on?” Karzarul asked.

“You need to be clearer about the fact that you like him,” she said.

Karzarul recoiled. “What?”

“I know that he’s got that thing,” Minnow said, “where it’s really fun to poke at him until he finally snaps and punishes you for it. But when I do it, he knows I’m playing, because he knows I like him. I don’t think he knows that’s what you’re doing.”

“He’s not—I’m not—that isn’t—is that? No. That’s not—no.” He narrowed his eyes at his congee.

“It’s okay,” she assured him. “I do it all the time. It’s only that, if you’re going to flirt with him, you should be more obvious about it. That way he can be sure that’s what you’re doing.”

Karzarul continued staring at his bowl.

“Sorry,” she said. “I wasn’t trying to embarrass you, or anything. And you have more experience flirting than I do. I know Leonas pretty well, is all. He’s used to people who want him being obvious about it.”

“I should go wash this,” Karzarul said, standing and taking his bowl to the kitchen.

“Kay,” Minnow said, helping herself to more.

Leonas was wearing waterproofed leather gloves and scrubbing more furiously at his bowl than felt necessary. The counter was a long piece of raw wood, the sink a small trough. They could have taken a Rainbow Door to proper lodgings, but the Brutelings were very proud of their last-minute handiwork to accommodate them on the mountain.

Karzarul set his bowl down. Leonas ignored him. Karzarul tried leaning sideways against the counter with his elbow to be closer to eye level. “Hey,” he said.

Leonas stopped scrubbing. His eyes flicked over Karzarul. “Are you making fun of me?” he asked. He kept his voice low enough not to carry.

“What?” Karzarul stood straight, giving up on eye level. “No. I was saying hi. Am I not allowed to say hi?” He was equally cautious about the possibility of being overheard.

“Do what you want,” Leonas said, returning his attention to his bowl.

Karzarul reached out to tug on one of his curls.

“Not that,” Leonas snapped, a crack of magic on Karzarul’s fingers like a switch. Karzarul hissed as he took his hand back. Leonas wasn’t looking at him. “Don’t touch me.” Karzarul’s jaw set with a growl. “If she doesn’t get to touch me without permission, you definitely don’t.”

That gave Karzarul pause. Then it irritated him all over again. “Touching you,” he said, “is not some privilege I plan on begging for.”

Their eyes met. “Then don’t.”

Karzarul sputtered and stormed out of the kitchen.

“Everything okay?” Minnow asked.

“Fine,” he said, heading for the door, which was actually a curtain made of small pieces of broken glass and rocks that had been tied together into strands.

“Are you two fighting?” Minnow asked.

“No.”

Minnow pushed her bowl aside and propped her chin up on her hands. “Is this about the dreams?” she asked.

Karzarul froze.

Leonas poked his head out of the kitchen. “What.”

“I know I shouldn’t bring it up because it’s rude,” Minnow said, “but you guys are acting weirder than usual.”

Leonas slowly emerged from the kitchen, eyes narrowed as he took off his gloves. “Have you been? Seeing? My dreams?”

“I don’t wander into people’s dreams when they’re using them,” she said, offended. “I didn’t even know that was a thing you could do. I never learned dream stuff.”

“Right,” Leonas said. “But it seems like you know something.”

“Have you ever gone over to someone’s house,” she said, “and it turns out they’re having a fight with their boyfriend, but they don’t want you to know they’re fighting? So they’re extra polite and excuse themselves to another room and start arguing in there like you can’t hear? And you have to sit there and pretend not to notice because it’s awkward?”

“No,” Leonas said.

“Yes,” Karzarul said.

“It was like that,” Minnow said. “Except usually with Leonas his dreams would leak blood, but lately it’s been flowers, which felt like a good sign. And I sorta, I tried to wander over, actually? After you said it was possible, and didn’t need a complicated spell. Only I never really got the hang of dreams. I never went to kindergarten, or wherever they teach you that stuff if you have parents. No one ever taught me how to make my own dreams. I always used dead people’s, since they weren’t using them. I thought I figured it out a long time ago, but after everything Karzarul said and after I got to sleep at home, I realized it was actually the stars. Which means I never learned how to make my own dreams, and you’re not allowed to make fun of me for it because I’m only telling you so you know I wasn’t spying.”

Karzarul’s brow furrowed. “It wasn’t literal,” he said. “The thing about dreams.” He frowned. “Was it?”

“You were having ghostly visions with my dream blood leaking into them this whole time, and you never thought to mention it?” Leonas asked.

“It’s not like it happened all the time,” Minnow said. “I didn’t even know whose blood it was. You never talked about it, so I thought it was off-limits.”

“Dreams just happen,” Leonas said. “There’s nothing to learn. You didn’t miss a class that everyone else took.”

“I’ve seen it,” Minnow insisted. “A teacher had a quest for me, and he wanted me to come talk to him while the students were in nap class.”

“Naptime,” Leonas said. “Toddlers get naptime. Because they get tired. Not because they need to learn how to dream.”

“I can’t tell if you’re messing with me.”

Why would I be messing with you.”

“How should I know!” Minnow said. “Why would I know how it’s supposed to work? It’s not like anyone told me. It’s like the hair thing all over again.”

Leonas held up a staying hand before Karzarul could ask. “Changelings don’t brush their own hair, it’s a whole thing, let’s stay on topic which is this weird dream thing Minnow has going on.”

“Why is that the topic?” Minnow asked. “I thought the topic was how you guys were acting weird.”

“We’ve moved on,” Leonas said.

“You’re changing the subject,” Minnow said.

“Does he make you ask for permission to touch him?” Karzarul asked.

“Stop it,” Leonas snapped.

“He doesn’t make me,” Minnow said. “He won’t enjoy it if I don’t, that’s all.”

“You agree that the dream thing is weird, right?” Leonas asked Karzarul. “Has she always been like that, or is this new?”

“It’s—in retrospect it’s possible she’s always been like this,” Karzarul said. “There have been some weird dream situations. Historically.”

“Are you being awkward because I kept bringing up the boyfriend thing?” Minnow asked. “I thought you were only being weird about it because of Ari, but if you really don’t like it I’ll leave it alone.”

Leonas rubbed his temples. “It’s like trying to have a conversation with puppies in a butcher shop,” he muttered. “Let’s summarize: you have a weird dream situation.”

“Right,” Minnow said.

“It made you tangentially aware of our weird dream situation.”

“Right,” Minnow confirmed.

“You don’t know details.”

“Right.”

“But you feel we are acting unusually.”

“I know you are,” Minnow said. “What I don’t know is if it’s because you had a dream fight, or if it’s because you don’t actually like the idea of me being your girlfriend and don’t want to admit it.”

“You’re in a relationship with Karzarul,” Leonas reminded her.

“He said he’s fine with it,” she said.

“He says a lot of things,” Leonas said.

“Hey,” Karzarul said.

“Do you want to test it?” Leonas asked. “Because we can test it.” He came closer to Minnow, stood behind her to wrap his arms around her shoulders where she sat. He rested his chin on her head. “Does he look fine with it?” Leonas asked.

Karzarul was neither growling nor snarling, and was instead stone-faced, the muscles of his jaw all tense.

“Hmm.” Minnow stood, Leonas letting her go as she walked up to Karzarul and grabbed him by the hand. His expression softened immediately. She dragged him back toward Leonas, who she grabbed by the collar and yanked downward so that she could press a hard kiss to his mouth. He made a muffled sound of protest, and she let him go. “There,” she said, gesturing to Karzarul. Karzarul looked at the floor as if he had not been watching the two of them with interest. He had a sheepish glow about him. “See?” She held up his hand, her fingers looking smaller and darker than usual next to the size and moonlight color of him. “He doesn’t like being left out, that’s all.”

Karzarul stared at where she held his hand. “Huh.”

“That’s…” Leonas swallowed.

“Knock-knock!” Violet called from outside, not actually knocking. “If there’s spitroasting happening don’t stop on my account, I’m coming in.”

“Can you not?” Karzarul snapped.

“I can’t not,” Violet said, moving the ‘curtain’ out of the way with a closed fan. “We really need to have a talk about appropriate uses of materials,” he mused, looking at the bits of broken glass. His eyes landed on Minnow’s hand holding Karzarul. “Oh, that’s cute,” he sighed.

“Good morning,” Leonas said.

Violet smiled. “And you, Your Highness. Did you sleep well?”

Leonas almost said yes as a reflex, then glanced at Karzarul. “That’s complicated.”

“I bet,” Violet said, snapping his fan open to give it a flutter. “Do let me know if there’s anything I can do for you.”

Karzarul growled.

“Your Majesty,” Violet said as if just noticing him. “We were wondering if, considering your company, you were planning to try fixing the Rainbow Door in the castle ruins. We’re rebuilding the castle, incidentally. What we do with that whole wing depends on whether there’s going to be a Door there.”

“It’s deactivated?” Minnow asked.

“Destroyed,” Violet corrected. “All in pieces.”

“Rainbow Doors can’t be destroyed,” Leonas said.

“They can, actually,” Violet said with a flutter of his eyelashes. “Under the right circumstances.” His gaze flicked over to Karzarul before returning to Leonas.

“That’s very interesting,” Leonas said. “I might like to see that.”

“I thought you might,” Violet said, looking pleased. “As His Majesty seems indisposed, perhaps I could—”

“I’ll take care of it,” Karzarul said. “Go away.”

Violet laughed, stuck his tongue out at Karzarul and gave a small kick of his heel as he left the room.

“Actually, I need to go ask him if they have a privy set up yet,” Minnow said, letting go of Karzarul’s hand. “You guys go ahead and I’ll catch up.” She grabbed the Starsword from where it was leaning against the wall and followed after Violet.

“Right,” Karzarul said. Leonas busied himself retrieving the Sunshield. “Follow me, then.” Karzarul headed out, but paused at the doorway. He half-turned, not enough to be facing Leonas directly. He started to speak, stopped. “You don’t have to ask,” he managed.

Leonas looked up from the tuft at the end of Karzarul’s tail. “What?”

Karzarul hesitated again. “Permission,” he clarified. “Just. So you know.” Then he headed out the door.

“… oh.” Leonas took a minute before following. He used the Sunshield to move the curtain, bringing it up high enough to protect his face. Karzarul was walking at a pace that Leonas would have been able to keep up with unassisted. Leonas struggled to determine the appropriate amount of polite distance as he slipped the Sunshield onto his back.

“How does this work?” Leonas asked finally, touching Karzarul’s sleeve only briefly before taking his hand back. Karzarul’s steps almost imperceptibly faltered, looking down at the spot. “Your clothes,” Leonas said. “I don’t know how they work. I assume they’re made out of moonlight, but so is the rest of you.”

Karzarul said nothing, then looked at Leonas. “Your boots are made out of skin,” he pointed out.

“… not my skin,” Leonas said.

“Same thing,” Karzarul said.

“So you don’t feel it,” Leonas said, touching his sleeve again, “the way you’d feel skin.”

“No.”

“But you can control it, like the rest of you.” Leonas hooked two fingers into the wrist to rub at the hem with his thumb. It felt like ordinary stitched silk. The backs of his fingers brushed against Karzarul’s glove.

“Not… exactly,” Karzarul said. “I can create or destroy it. If I want it in a different configuration, I have to destroy it and remake it.”

“Then there isn’t any reason to go leaving your clothes on the floor.”

“It’s more fun,” Karzarul said. Leonas looked up at him. “Taking things off.”

Karzarul cleared his throat as Leonas let his sleeve go for a more polite distance again. They both found the grass overtaking the edges of the path extremely interesting until Minnow rejoined them.


“I’ve never heard of anything that could do this to a Rainbow Door,” Leonas said, sitting on rough stone that had once underlaid tile. It was a ruin more than a room, open to the outside, vines and weeds growing in all the cracks. Whatever it had been before, it was nothing now. Leonas had a pocket-sized notebook and took notes with a pencil. He ran his fingertips over the gold etchings in the pieces of the Door. “No one’s ever been able to reverse-engineer them. At best they’ve determined how it keeps the Door open, but not how it collapses all the space between every Door.”

Karzarul said nothing. He was watching Minnow watch Leonas. She was crouched near where he was sitting, watching his face the way a cat watched a hole in the ground. Leonas was fully absorbed in his task, taking measurements with his knuckles as points of reference. There was something about it. The way his brow unknit, the way he stopped checking his periphery to focus. The lines around his mouth disappearing, lower lip sometimes caught between his teeth.

He had very long eyelashes.

Minnow had been inching closer until she was almost resting her head on his shoulder. Leonas finally noticed her, narrowing his eyes. “No.”

“I wanna see,” she protested.

“Bullshit.”

“It looks interesting.”

“Not to you, it doesn’t.”

“What’s that?” she asked, pointing to a particular diagram in his notes, all of them written painfully tiny.

“That’s—stop trying to distract me.”

“Am I distracting you?”

“You know you are.”

“I can help,” she suggested.

“Doing what?”

“I could hold things.”

Leonas looked at the broken remains of the Door. “Hold what.”

“Things.”

Tch.” He tapped her on the nose with the wrong end of his pencil. “Go play with Karzarul.”

Minnow looked at Karzarul as Leonas turned his attention back to his notes. Karzarul gave her a suggestive lift of his eyebrows. To his surprise, she grinned. It was predatory, all sharp edges, did not suit the game of childish petulance she’d been playing. Then it was gone, replaced by a pout as Leonas tried to ignore her.

“Leonas,” she whined. He raised his pencil to tap her on the nose again, but quicker than he could react she snatched his notebook out of his hands.

Minona,” he snapped as she darted out of his reach, waiting there and bouncing on her toes. He didn’t get up. “Get back here.”

She shook her head. “I wanted to see it,” she said, despite making no effort to look at it. Instead she closed the leather cover and wrapped the strap around it, the better to keep it safe and avoid smudging.

“I’m not going to chase you,” Leonas warned. “I’ve seen you run. It’s not happening. Get over here.”

She shook her head again, tucking the notebook inside her chest wrap underneath her tunic. “What do I get?” she asked. “If I come back.”

“Do I look like I have candy?” he asked. “Where would I have even found any candy.”

Karzarul knelt closer to Leonas’ level, though he did not close the distance between them. A thought had occurred to him, with the look in her eyes, but it was a thought with sharp edges. Verbalizing it felt sharper still. “Do you… want me to get her for you?”

Leonas froze. Minnow looked like a tightly-coiled spring. Leonas met Karzarul’s cautious gaze, and the bright blue of his eyes gave Karzarul a frisson of something like fear.

Like, but not quite.

“Yes,” Leonas decided, looking away. “Try not to hurt my notes.”

Minnow bolted. Karzarul took off after her, but Impyr form wasn’t designed for running. He shifted to a Howler, fast enough to keep up without overtaking her too quickly. She shrieked with glee, dissolving into giggles as she ran through the crumbling ruins. Doors without walls and walls barely there at all, everything of value stripped away and stolen. She bounced her way up a corner on alternating feet, pulling herself up onto what remained of the second floor. He changed forms to fly up after her, landing as a Shadestalker to better handle the narrow platforms.

He found a shortcut as she made her way back down to the first floor. He leapt down onto her back to tackle her to the ground. She shrieked again, a familiar worrying laugh as they tumbled together on the stone. He changed back to Impyr in the confusion, pinning her facedown on the floor.

“Caught you,” he said, his hand on the back of her neck, one knee beside her hip. The other couldn’t risk touching the hilt of her sword, so it pressed into her back. Her giggling had a touch of mania. She squirmed, and he half-growled, half-purred.

“Caught me,” she agreed, sing-song. “What do I get?”

He had ideas. He had a lot of ideas. Mostly they were variations on the same idea, holding her down and fucking her into the ground. Making her beg for more, or mercy, or both. Make her scream his name in the ruins of his castle, where he’d killed her and she’d killed him and now he could ruin her.

“I’m supposed to bring you back,” Karzarul reminded her.

“What if,” she said breathlessly, “there was a delay?”

“No,” Karzarul said. He squeezed the back of her neck a little, and she shivered. “Are you going to behave, or do I have to make you?”

“Oh,” she sighed, “make me, make me.” She giggled. “When you let your guard down, should I try to run, or try to wrestle you?” she asked.


“Did you fight?” Leonas asked incredulously.

“Little bit,” Karzarul said. He’d changed forms and back to fix his clothes. In retrospect that looked worse, considering Minnow’s state of disarray. He pulled her down from where she’d been bent over his shoulder, his arm around her waist so her boots didn’t touch the ground. Her hair was loose and all over, her leggings scraped and her tunic rumpled. He’d stolen the strip of leather from her hair to bind her wrists in front of her. Her face was flush, grinning broadly and barely restraining her delight.

“You look like you had fun,” Leonas said mildly, standing up and brushing dust from his legs. Minnow nodded eagerly. Leonas reached into her shirt to take his notebook back and tapped her on the nose with it. “Bad,” he scolded, and she hummed. “Good,” he said to Karzarul, which made something under Karzarul’s ribs flutter. “Can you…” Leonas hesitated, trying to determine acceptable limits using nothing but passing glances. He knew the way this game went when it was only the two of them, the way she expected it to go based on the way she watched him. It was only the presence of an unknown variable making him hesitate. “Keep holding her for me?” he asked as he stuck his notebook back into his pocket.

“I can do that,” Karzarul said, arm around her waist tightening, pressing her back into his chest. There was nothing to stop her from kicking, but he didn’t think they needed to worry about that. Even holding her was for the principle of the thing.

“You,” Leonas said, and as soon as he touched her Minnow stilled. He cupped her face, thumbs stroking over her cheeks. “You don’t actually need to be quiet, do you? In theory, you could make as much noise as you want. We can do all sorts of noisy things. No time limit.” He dropped his hands to her belt, unbuckled it so that it fell to the ground and brought the Starsword with it.

“Yeah?” she asked, breathless and hopeful.

“No,” he decided, covering her mouth with his left hand. He pressed his forehead to hers, tried not to think about why she matched his height. If he focused on Minnow and pretended nothing was different, he could almost sort of handle it. He had to avoid Karzarul’s arm as he slid his free hand under her tunic, into her leggings, but he didn’t think about it. He rubbed a fingertip hard near her clit without touching it, a trick he’d found that bypassed figuring out how touchy she was feeling. The hood of her clit was enough of a barrier that he could apply hard pressure to it without the risks of direct contact.

The risk being that she might be feeling sensitive that day and accidentally sprain his wrist bucking him off like a fucking horse.

“Same rules as always,” he warned her, as she tilted her hips to try and grind against his fingertips. “Make a sound and I stop.”

She was bad at it, she was always bad at it, already whimpering muffled against his palm as he touched her. He slid his fingers lower, hooked two inside of her and pressed his hand against her. He pushed deeper as she ground against his hand, already soaked and clenching around him as he curled his fingers. He wasn’t trying to time it, but he was timing it, how many minutes and how much noise and did he hear anything on the stairs. If he pretended it was Minnow, just Minnow, his fingers coaxing notes from her throat, he could handle that. It was when she got quiet, was the trick, once she got quiet was when he had to take all the pressure from her clit and give a hard shove of his fingers while letting her mouth go. That was when she’d let out a surprised cry, bite back her frustration when she realized what she’d done.

Except that she didn’t need to, now. “That’s cheating,” she complained, as he pulled his fingers out of her and out of her clothes. “You always cheat.”

“If I’d been fair,” he said, “I would have stopped sooner.” He licked his fingers. He risked a glance at Karzarul. Karzarul’s eyes were on Leonas’ mouth. Leonas felt a frisson of… something. Excitement or trepidation or satisfaction or desire. Not a negative something, only a very large something, electric and dangerous under his skin.

Something about people who could kill him, would kill him and had killed him, treating him as a thing to be wanted on his own merits. Something about obedience for its own sake, wanting and yet waiting.

“She’s all yours,” Leonas said, turning back to the rubble he’d been studying. “Not all,” he corrected. “Above the waist.”

“Oh, not fair,” Minnow complained as Leonas sat back down, idly resting his fingers between his teeth. “Karzarul,” she said, turning big eyes toward him.

“You heard him,” Karzarul said, finally setting her down. “Rules are rules.”

“I changed my mind,” she decided, turning on her heel to face him. “You’re not allowed to get along anymore, you shouldn’t listen to Heirs. It’s wrong, and evil.”

“Uh-huh,” Karzarul said, stroking her cheek with gloved fingers. His thumb touched her lip, and she bit him, points of her teeth pressing into the leather over his first knuckle. He pushed it further into her mouth, pressed down on her tongue until her mouth opened wider. She acquiesced and started to suck. “You like it,” he teased. Minnow hummed.

Behind her back, Leonas was watching them.

Karzarul’s form changed, and Minnow made a sound of surprise as the digit in her mouth grew larger. He was a Tauril, lying on the stone with his hooves curled beneath him, leaning forward to loom over her.

She took her mouth off him, taking a step backward. “We’ve talked about this,” she warned, and he grinned.

“Above the waist,” he reminded her. He pulled her closer again by the strap around her wrists and didn’t miss the look in her eyes when he did it. His lower body tilted, hooves curling off to the side to bring his waist lower. He bent forward enough to brace one hand on the ground, catching her mouth in a kiss while he did so. The force of his descent was enough to push her onto the ground, almost kneeling and then sitting clumsy and crooked.

“You’re big,” she observed.

“You’re cute,” he said, lifting her tunic. He couldn’t remove it entirely without untying her, so he pulled it over her head and behind her back instead, sleeves still on her arms. It protected her skin when he gave her a little push, made her lie on the ground. He tugged her chest wrap down, squeezed one of her breasts and nipped at her neck. She made small, wanting sounds, arching her back and pressing her thighs together.

Karzarul,” she pleaded.

He almost changed forms at the sound of his name on her tongue. “You want me?” he asked.

Yes.”

“Karzarul,” Leonas said. Karzarul stilled, looked up. Leonas was sitting with his legs curled neatly sideways, his chin propped in one hand and his elbow in the other. “You still have your gloves on.” Karzarul looked down at his hands. He hesitated, then pulled the glove off his right hand with his teeth. The black crescent stood out in sharp relief against his skin.

Minnow hummed happily as soon as she felt him touch her, nothing between them. He pulled the glove from his other hand, bunched her tunic up over her bound wrists to pin them above her head one-handed. She started to giggle, louder when the sound made him grin. She wiggled and tried to move her wrists, though not in earnest, playing at being weaker than she was. He tried to growl, but it came out as more of a purr.

“Do you remember,” she asked, “when you roared for me?”

He summoned a roar from the bottom of his chest, lip curled and teeth bared, and she pulled at his grip with an arch of her spine.

“Yeah,” she sighed as he ran his hand over her stomach and along her ribs. “Like that.” She was crisscrossed with faint scars, blades and teeth and burns. She was scraped up from when he’d had to wrestle with her earlier, sore spots where she’d hit the ground. There were fingerprints pressed into one of her arms. He shifted nothing but his claws to make them short enough to touch her safely, polished round nubs at the ends of his fingers.

She’d left an imprint of her teeth in his skin, but it hadn’t lasted. He wondered if that was something he could make a part of himself, if he tried, like his hairstyles or his jewelry. Scars and bruises both held a fascination for him, souvenirs of healed trauma and recent pain. He only had what he chose to keep. Nothing he could point to and say, this is what you did to me, nothing he could touch to make pain echo and prove that he’d been hit. What would it mean, to leave the shape of her teeth in his skin? How would it be different, if he could pretend he hadn’t wanted it there?

“If you stay in that form,” Leonas said, “she’s all yours.” He was sitting with his legs pulled up to his chest, his arms crossed over his knees. He didn’t bother pretending to be casual, or doing anything but watching. He still looked as if he might take notes.

The idea that he ought to be putting on a show gave Karzarul pause. He had not thought himself given to performance anxiety. Turning his attention back to Minnow helped, seeing a different kind of anxiety betrayed in the softness of her face.

“As I recall,” Karzarul pointed out, “looking like this didn’t stop you from wanting me.”

“I know,” she said shakily as he let her hands go to pull off her boots. She took a deep breath. “It’s only, it’s feeling more real, if you’re going to touch me like that.” She was getting tense again, like she might pounce as soon as he let her go.

“Good or bad?” he asked.

“I—I have this thing, I get mixed up, I—looking like this and touching like that, I—pin me?” Her tenor had grown increasingly frantic, breathing irregular, and Karzarul wasn’t sure what to make of it. He thought of the first time, when she hadn’t wanted to look at him.

Not until he’d beat her, fair and square.

He covered Minnow’s mouth in such a way that she could bite him, a human little growl as he splayed the fingers of his other hand over her stomach and pressed her down. Her bound hands clawed at the forearm of the hand holding her face, more forceful than her usual play struggles but still not with her full strength. He roared, and once again the effect was instantaneous, bracing herself with a fierce grip on his arm before relaxing. Some kind of relief, breaking whatever tension had been buzzing in her blood.

“I win,” he said, and she hummed, running her tongue over the indentations she’d left in his skin. He uncovered her mouth, held her down by her neck and moved his other hand lower. He pulled off her leggings, and she wiggled her hips to help him.

“Sorry,” she sighed, in a dreamy way that didn’t sound sorry at all. “My brain knows I don’t need to fight you,” she said. “It’s less confusing if it feels like I already lost. Is that bad?”

“I have,” he said, sliding his middle finger inside of her, “mixed feelings.” She clenched around him, arching her back. “Do you fight him?” he asked, though he knew he shouldn’t compare, though he was sitting right there even now and listening to them both.

“She likes,” Leonas said quietly, “when I treat her like a prisoner.”

Oh,” Minnow gasped, Karzarul’s finger curling inside her, thumb stroking her clit. “Do I really?”

“Mm,” Leonas said rather than clarify at all.

That shouldn’t have made him feel better. It did, a little.

“Don’t let her finish yet,” Leonas added.

“No!” Minnow protested, clamping her thighs shut to hold Karzarul’s hand where it was. “Don’t listen to him, you should fuck me actually.”

Karzarul laughed. “Are you trying to break my wrist?” he asked. She started to shake her head, then stopped.

“Am I in trouble if I am?” she asked, and he grinned. He stopped moving his fingers, and she made a sound of protest, rocking her hips against his hand.

“It’s cute,” he said, “the way you squirm when you’re desperate.” She huffed with indignance, and he thought she might try to kick him. He let her neck go to rest his hand on one of her knees. “I’d eat you out,” he said, “but you might try to rip my horns off.”

She stopped gripping his arm with her legs immediately. “It’s safe!” she assured him hastily, as though it were a real concern. She held up her bound wrists to demonstrate, her tunic falling down to her elbows. “See?” She brought her hands back down to hold her face, chin in her palms and fingers on her cheeks. “I’m helpless,” she said, unconvincingly.

“Nothing about that is stopping you from grabbing me,” he pointed out.

“Helpless,” she repeated pointedly, narrowing her eyes.

“You’re not—”

Helpless,” she interrupted, louder.

Karzarul’s nose twitched, ears flicking as he fought a smile. She stared at him with uncalled-for intensity, as if daring him to say something. “That’s—”

Help. Less.

He turned his head away, used the hand not between her legs to cover his face as he started to giggle.

Helplesssss,” she hissed, and he had to pull away from her completely as he giggled in earnest, tipping sideways so that his horns touched the ground, still covering his face. It took him a minute to recover. When he moved back towards Minnow, she was looking extremely pleased with herself. Karzarul glanced at Leonas.

He wasn’t sure what Leonas’ expression was, but it definitely wasn’t ‘aroused’. Or amused, for that matter. Karzarul cleared his throat, ears flicking again. “Sorry,” he said, turning his attention back to Minnow. “I’m taking this very seriously,” he told her, in as stern a tone as he could manage. She nodded eagerly. “You’re—where were we?”

“You were about to eat me out,” she said, “because I’m—”

“Don’t say it,” he warned, covering her mouth again. He felt her grin against his skin. “You were about to convince me to eat you out,” he corrected, “by asking nicely and promising not to snap my fucking neck with your thighs.” He took his hand away so she could speak. She hesitated, licking her lips. “Let me hear you tell me you want me,” he coaxed.

She bit her lower lip, opened her mouth and shut it again. She curled her fingers to suggest he come closer, something shy in her eyes. He bent lower, and she craned her neck to be closer to his ear. He heard her breath catch, her shaky exhale.

Helpless.

He dropped his forehead to her collarbones, the curve of his horns pressing into her shoulders as his own shoulders shook. She’d already dissolved into triumphant giggles, his own muffled by the skin of her stomach. “You’re trying to kill me,” he accused, and she laughed outright. “I am—doing a great job of not letting you finish, you have to give me that.” She snickered with a happy wiggle of her hips. “I’m shoving something in your mouth next time,” he said.

“Promise?” she asked, arching her back as he licked one of her nipples. He kissed his way down her body, held her knees apart and kissed the inside of her thigh. “You’re big,” she said again, more intensely this time.

“Mm-hmm,” he hummed, moving a hand underneath her to hold her hips up. He slid his tongue inside of her, and she groaned, clenching around him. His mouth was large enough that he found it safest to open it wide, his fangs touching fur and less sensitive skin, his tongue long enough to press her clit and curl inside her at the same time. He watched her while he did it, basked in the taste of her and the look of awestruck arousal on her face as she watched him back. He purred, vibrating through his tongue, and she tossed her head back with a cry. Her heels dug into his shoulders. He withdrew his tongue, turned his head to press his fangs into her inner thigh.

Don’t stop,” she protested, even though he already had. “Karzarul, please.” He purred again, not that it did her any good with his mouth on her leg.

“You going to be good for me?” Karzarul asked.

“Uh-huh,” she said, nodding.

“You want to be bad for me?”

Yeah.”

That,” Karzarul said with satisfaction, “is what a helpless Hero sounds like.”

“I want,” Leonas said evenly, “to see her face when you fuck her. Would you do that for me?”

Karzarul’s eyes met Leonas’ as he ran his tongue long and slow between Minnow’s legs. He shifted while he did it, until he was an Impyr circling her clit with the tip of his tongue. He hadn’t bothered making himself clothes. Leonas’ expression might have looked detached, except that his witchmarks were blazing.

“You have a really nice mouth,” Minnow sighed. The flex of her legs made clear her desire to wrap them around his neck. He appreciated the self-control. He moved to turn her over, and she accommodated by rolling, letting him move her legs as needed. She propped herself up on her forearms, clasping her hands together. Her legs had to spread far to straddle Karzarul’s thighs, but there wasn’t any way around that. Her legs were too damn short compared to his to be able to rest her knees on the ground.

He couldn’t help admiring the way his fingers sank into her flesh, made divots in the softness of her as he spread her apart. He liked to see it, the way his tentacles held her lips open and his cock pressed against her. Her all soft and pink and swollen, watching himself push inside of her felt like it shouldn’t have been allowed. Too much, too hard, too bright. An unnatural thing, a violation. They didn’t fit together the way human bodies fit, didn’t belong together like puzzle pieces. The wrong color and the wrong shape and she let him do it anyway, spread her open and stretch her full.

She whimpered as he thrust slow, watched her body struggle to take more of him. Finally he leaned forward, holding her by the hips to thrust in earnest. “Say my name.”

Karzarul.

“You like being full of monster cock?” Two tentacles rubbed at her clit as he rocked in and out of her.

“Yes, yes, you’re so good it’s so good I want it, I want, I’m—” She clenched down on him with a shuddering groan.

He wanted to gloat, make her say he fucked her best, claim her as his own. Make her say it out loud, that she was his, that he could have her and keep her because no one else would do. Under the circumstances, it didn’t feel right. He felt a vague frustrated confusion, which he expressed by bending down and growling in her ear. She shuddered, and he flexed his fingertips to draw out his claws, pressed sharp points against her skin. He kept his right hand on her hip, used his left to hold her neck underneath her chin and keep her face pointed forward.

“Is this what you wanted?” he asked in her ear, though he was looking at Leonas. Still sitting there, still watching, unmoving.

Yes,” she gasped, arching her spine and pushing back against him. “Hard, harder.” He slowed the motion of his hips instead, and she made a keening sound of dismay. It changed to surprise when a slick tentacle pressed against her ass. “Yes!” Her vehemence made him lose control of his tentacles, all writhing over her clit and spreading her open and pushing inside of her. She pulled at the strap on her wrists and clawed at the stone with a low grunt as he started to move again. Only her rumpled tunic kept her from scraping the skin off her arms, her body rocking with every thrust. “Fill me, fuck me, I’m your good bad little Hero—”

She was cut off with a choked cry as he started pounding into her, cock driving deeper into her cunt with a tentacle sliding in and out of her ass. He growled right in her ear, and she pushed back harder. He let it grow to a small roar, and even that was enough to make her body buck beneath him with strangled guttural sounds. She nearly collapsed as her limbs went shaky, no longer had the strength to provide resistance. He was careful to let her head down gently so that she could rest it on her hands, pressing her fingers against her mouth even though dizzy groans kept escaping her throat. Her front half was practically lying on the ground, but he used his hands on her hips to pull her back onto him at the same time as he thrust.

“Karzarul,” she sighed, her voice all sing-song and dreamy again. “You’re wonderful, you’re so pretty and you fuck me so good and you’re mine.” His breath caught, gripping her tight and burying himself inside her with a shudder. She laughed, delighted. “Mine mine mine mine mine,” she chanted. His tentacles writhed and his cock twitched, and he buried his face in her hair, purring loud. She reached up behind herself to pat his hair. He wasn’t sure when she’d snapped the leather around her wrists.

“Leonas,” Minnow asked, “you didn’t want to play?”

“No,” he said. Leonas had not let his legs drop, had continued to sit curled up and watching.

“Are you sure?” she asked. She stuck her tongue out at him, as much an offer as a taunt.

“I’m sure.”

“Was it good?” she asked with a pout.

“You did good,” he said, and she beamed. “I am… enjoying having me to myself. If that makes sense.” Karzarul didn’t understand what that meant, but Minnow nodded.

“I should get up,” Minnow sighed, wiggling her way off Karzarul’s lap. He shifted to standing, fully dressed, offering her a gloved hand. She accepted it, wearing nothing but the thin band of a bunched-up chest wrap underneath her breasts. She didn’t bother fixing it. She looked a little like she’d gone rolling sideways down the entire mountainside. “I’m gonna go find a bush outside to pee in,” she announced, combing her fingers through her hair and heading straight for the biggest hole in the wall.

Karzarul knelt to pick up her much-abused tunic, wrinkled and stretched out and now slightly torn. “I don’t suppose you can fix this,” he said, standing.

“Possibly,” Leonas said, pulling himself upright. Karzarul couldn’t help a glance at his trousers. He didn’t know if he was disappointed, or why. Leonas examined the fabric without taking it from Karzarul. Little threads of light started to spread throughout it, Leonas’ eyes glowing. Karzarul tried to decide if he found it horrifying.

“You care for her very much,” Karzarul ventured.

“She is the only reason I never jumped out a window,” Leonas said flatly. “Anything else is a lie I told myself.”

“Oh.” It felt obvious that he’d let her have whatever he thought she wanted, if that was the way of things. Giving grudging approval from a safe distance.

Leonas let the spell end, then looked up at Karzarul. The blue of his eyes hadn’t stopped being startling. They were both still holding the tunic between them. “I find you obnoxiously attractive,” Leonas said. Karzarul swallowed. “I thought that if I told you that I wanted to see what you looked like fucking her, it would make you self-conscious. So I lied.”

Karzarul froze, and tried to remember what he had been doing with his face. He had a worrying feeling that he’d been making a lot of silly faces.

“I liked it,” Leonas added. “I like the way you look at her.”

Karzarul felt lightheaded, eyes drifting to Leonas’ mouth.

Leonas moved even closer, reached up to brush his fingertips along Karzarul’s jaw. Rising up onto his toes, his fingers curled around the back of Karzarul’s neck, pulled him downward until their mouths could meet. Not much, and not for long. A brief, soft press of Leonas’ lips against his.

“I’m going to remember to have some dignity, in a minute,” Leonas said, barely enough space for words between their faces. “Some self-preservation instincts. I only wanted to make it clear, before then, that I… I don’t know if you meant it as an invitation. But I’m taking it. If you’ll let me.”

Leonas kissed him one more time, only a little harder before he pulled away. Karzarul didn’t stop him.

Astielle: Chapter Twenty-Four

“What the fuck was that about?” Fynn snapped.

Karzarul took the shape of an Impyr sitting in the grass, yawned even though he was dreaming. “Are you here again?” he asked.

Fynn ran his fingers through his hair. “We can’t be taking detours every time you see soldiers doing something you don’t like,” he said. “If we don’t catch Orynn in time it’ll be a lot worse than some collateral damage.”

“If it bothered you so much,” Karzarul sneered, “you should have said something.”

Fynn fumed. “Real fucking funny,” he said.

“You can still make sounds,” Karzarul shrugged. “Figure it out.”

“I never should have asked for your help,” Fynn said, starting to pace.

“You going to kill him yourself?” Karzarul asked, shifting to standing instead of moving to rise. “It wouldn’t be the first time.”

Fynn ruffled his own hair with both hands. “You know I can’t do that,” he muttered.

Karzarul had been trying to avoid them this time around. For the most part. He’d tried watching from a distance, for a while, but it had made it too tempting to say hello. To see if things could be different, if they remembered him, remembered anything but fear. Wondering if they could make a space for him wasn’t sustainable. Easier to stay away and hope they’d do the same.

He knew better than to invite himself.

It had worked out well enough for the thirty years or so since they’d recovered their weapons. Fynn left his sect to let it wither, let Orynn sweep him off his feet. Then Orynn got his head scrambled. It wasn’t clear if it was the Starsword singing to him, glimpses of memories, or another thing entirely. Locking himself away and lashing out and finally attacking Fynn. Convinced he was a trickster, a traitor, trying to turn his head with sweet words.

Karzarul wouldn’t argue with the general sentiment. But it felt unfair to Orynn, to let him be this way.

“You wouldn’t understand,” Fynn said, still pacing.

“Yes, you’re very special,” Karzarul dismissed. “Do you have anything important to say, or is it only that you missed hearing yourself talk?”

“Sun above but you’re the fucking worst,” Fynn said. Karzarul grinned. “I don’t know why I’m surprised, I didn’t seek you out for your personality.”

“At least I have my looks,” Karzarul said.

Fynn looked like he might have thrown something, if he had anything to throw. “You kill Heroes,” he snarled. “Try to focus on that.”

“My track record with Heirs isn’t bad, either,” Karzarul growled.

Fynn stopped to laugh bitterly. “Try me,” he said, spreading his arms. “What could you possibly do to me that’s worse than what’s already been done?”

“I’m sure I could think of something,” Karzarul said, deliberately looming.

“Oh, please,” Fynn shot back, head tilted back to meet his eyes. “I can already tell you wouldn’t have the stomach for it.”

Karzarul caught him by the throat.

“Try harder,” Fynn said. “I’ve had boyfriends choke me harder than that.”

Karzarul let him go, recoiling. “What? Why?”

Fynn raised an eyebrow.

“Did you—oh! Oh. You meant that you—okay.” Karzarul rubbed at the moon on the back of his hand.

“Are we done with the posturing,” Fynn asked, “or did you want to try again?”

Karzarul looked him over, taken aback. “Did you want me to?” he asked, confused.

“What? No. Don’t touch me.”

Karzarul poked Fynn in the shoulder before he could stop him.

“Fuck’s sake,” Fynn said, rubbing his temple. “Trying to save my husband from himself and all I’ve got with me is the world’s oldest brat.”

“Am not.”

“He’d better appreciate this when he gets back.”

“He’s not,” Karzarul said. “Coming back.”

“He dies, he gets reborn,” Fynn said. “That’s how it works.”

“His soul comes back,” Karzarul said. “He doesn’t. Being born at all doesn’t happen until most of us are dead. You won’t get to see whatever he comes back as. Not the way you are now. You’ll be new, same as him.”

Fynn raked his hand through his hair. “But you stay the same,” he said. “Same person, same memories. Even if you die.”

“I’m me,” Karzarul shrugged. “Always.”


Fynn was an important object lesson in not implying that murdering him would bring someone’s husband back from the dead. Pointless, when the man had wasted away anyway, food an ordeal that choked him and tasted of nothing.

These new ones hadn’t given him much time to recover, all smitten with each other and determined to kill him. The ones in a rush to kill him were the worst. Old enough to be dangerous, young enough to make him feel bad about it. Odd now, to think of Vaelon and Lynette so young, setting out for the Faewild ready to die. Karzarul hadn’t realized yet how young that was, for a human. How bizarre, to bind their souls to things so vast after only a quarter-century. It seemed too young, to live like that forever. It seemed too young to die.

His sympathy was dampened by the unrepentant killing of the monsters on the mountain below. Karzarul braced his hands against the parapet, maintaining Tauril form even as he watched from within and without the deaths of Bullizards and Brutelings. He always told them to stay out of the way, but they’d stopped listening since Needle.

“Elm,” Saina called from behind the Sunshield, casting her barrier wider around them. “You’re falling into his trap!”

Sid leaned closer to Karzarul. “Did we set a trap?” he asked.

“No,” Karzarul said. They’d only half rebuilt the Monster Kingdom after last time. He would have thought not having a ropeway would have made it harder to loot. That was the whole reason he’d picked this mountain, that no one else seemed to want it. It turned out that the calculus changed when it was someone’s.

“Every time you kill one,” Saina said, “he gets stronger.” Elm stabbed a Howler, and a comet of moonlight shot into Karzarul, blissfully unaccompanied by memory. “See?” she said.

Karzarul narrowed his eyes.

I see you have discovered my secret,” he announced, projecting his voice further than strictly necessary.

Sid slowly turned towards him, raising a single eyebrow. Karzarul tried to ignore him, then finally shrugged. “If it works, it works,” he said. “Look, they’re heading straight up here now.”

“Great,” Sid sighed. He gave his spear a twirl as he stepped back from the parapet. “I’ll go poke some holes in them for you.”

“You don’t have to do that,” Karzarul said.

Sid shrugged. “Either I come back in a few weeks or I don’t,” he said. “They’re going to try to kill you, you know.”

“I know.”

“Do or die, now or never. Giving them chances will only make you feel worse.”

“I know.”

“Fight back like you mean it.”

He dreamt of desert nights, cold and clear.


“You should leave it down here,” Cori signed. “Let us have the next one who comes down to retrieve it.” The copper of the Sunshield glinted on the ocean floor, the sunstone at its center dim. Karzarul had already buried the man who’d carried it, weighed down his corpse with rocks.

“Maybe,” Karzarul signed as Cori wrapped his arms around Karzarul’s shoulders from behind. He wound his tail around Karzarul’s, nuzzling at his shoulder.

“Captain Skyla is doing a rum run soon,” Cori signed, holding his hands out far enough that Karzarul could see them in front of him. “You know you’re her favorite.”

Karzarul batted his hands away, glowing faintly. It was always tempting. Hard to tell where his own temptation started and the other Abysscales ended. They were all lust and violence, skin and scales. He knew most of it had to be them. Drink didn’t carry the same appeal when he couldn’t get drunk, not the way other monsters could. But their wanting made him want, and they always picked up on it.

Merri drifted nearer, tugged at Karzarul’s hair until Karzarul turned his head to kiss him.

There were times when he wanted to stay here. There wasn’t any reason he couldn’t stay here. Only that it all became too much, eventually. Whatever joy he could wring out of himself would run out, needing more to feel less until the thought of being touched repulsed him. Until he couldn’t bear to be looked at, felt a fool for thinking it could ever be enough.

It was Skyla who noticed the ship trying to overtake them, cannons at ready. The flag bore an eight-pointed star.

Karzarul crossed the distance a Misthawk, landed on two hooves. He didn’t like to take this form around just anyone, but, well. Either the Hero would be here, or Karzarul would sink the ship. Negotiations with random ships were beyond his current patience.

Except that the Starsword was on the hip of someone tall and broad-shouldered and large-chested, red curls down to her knees and freckles over her sternum.

“Oh!” Karzarul’s mind went suddenly and terribly blank. “Hello.”

Slowly, she descended the stairs to the main deck, her eyes narrowed. “What,” she said, “are you.”

“You’re the. The Starlight Hero? Now?” Karzarul had not prepared for this eventuality, though he should have realized it would happen. Her hips were doing a lot of things, going down stairs, that he wasn’t used to seeing in a Hero. A lot of her was doing a lot of things. There was a lot of her, was the thing.

“Maiete,” she said, still watching him, hand on the hilt of her sword.

“Right,” Karzarul said. Her shirt was tucked into her trousers instead of buttoned shut, and he kept getting distracted by her navel. Standing there was beginning to feel awkward. In an attempt to seem nonthreatening, he leaned against the nearby mast with his elbow, propping his head against his hand. “Hey.”

She looked, if anything, more suspicious.

“Are you the Monster King?” she asked, incredulous, looking him over.

“Depends on who’s asking.”

“… I am.”

“… right.”

“You’re Karzarul,” she said, not a question this time. “Why are you here?”

He stood straighter, brushing off his elbow with a shrug. “Maybe I wanted to say h—” She rolled her shoulders back, hands on her hips. “—hhhh. Hi.” He averted his gaze to the horizon, clearing his throat as if that was what had happened to the pitch of his voice. “Hello,” he said, overcorrecting and pitching his voice too low. He cleared his throat again.

“You’re here to say hello?” she asked.

“I don’t see why not.”

“What kind of ploy is this?”

“Must it be one?” he asked. He gave his braid a toss so that his bells would ring. “I’m not so terrible as my reputation would have you believe. I’m quite reasonable, in fact.” He fluttered his eyelashes a touch more than was coy, regretting it immediately.

“Is that so,” she said, cocking her head. “Are you trying to tell me you didn’t kill Taeryn?”

Karzarul paused and thought about the Sunshield half-buried in the sand. “I’ve never heard that name,” he said, which was not a lie.

“He was out killing sea-beasts,” she said, “and never returned.”

“Perhaps,” Karzarul suggested, “he should not have been.”

“They’re bad for business,” she said.

“Some consider them lucky,” he said.

“I’ll consider them lucky,” she said, “if you can bring me my husband back before I’ve killed every last one of the ugly bastards.”

Karzarul rubbed at the base of his horns. “You could have just. Lied. Instead of… you couldn’t even play along for—fine! Fine. Die, then, for all I care. Join your shitty husband. I killed your husband, by the way. You’re welcome.”

He rose from the deck before her sword could strike, and a Drakonis’ roar filled the air.


The Monster Kingdom was destroyed, again, after Zeno and Elruil killed him. Looted and left in rubble, again.


“Girls, it’s time to go,” Brissa said as she entered the den.

“Shhh!” said her youngest daughter. “It’s the best part.”

“You’ve heard this story a thousand times,” Brissa reminded her. Nonetheless, she knelt with the children to listen. Nene had gotten very good at telling it over the last two hundred years or so. They and Arynna had only adopted two children, but over the generations those children had multiplied into a whole passel of them to crowd into the floor of their den. The idea of Nene and Grandy as having ever been young felt as legendary as anything else when they’d been old longer than some countries existed.

“I didn’t waste my time,” Nene said, “fighting any of those other monsters. Remember, I was trying to get this over and done with quick as I could so I could marry my girl.”

Arynna patted their hand, skin wrinkled and paper-thin. Nene’s pale hand grabbed Arynna’s dark one, brought it higher to kiss her knobbly knuckles before letting her go to gesture again.

“With Arynna’s enchantments, I didn’t have to unlock any Rainbow Doors. She stacked so many on that glider I’m still surprised it didn’t explode. You’re not supposed to be able to use that many, but she found a way to stack them special. I got launched so high in the air, all I had to do was try to hit the top of Monster Mountain without breaking my ankles.”

“Are monsters scary?” asked one little boy. None of the children had ever seen one, when the Monster Kingdom had fallen so long ago.

“Very scary,” Nene said, holding their fingers up to their mouth like fangs. “And King Karzarul was the biggest, meanest, scariest monster of them all. A giant, with hooves and horns and fire breath. Five heads, each one uglier than the last!”

He only had the one head, and they hadn’t actually seen any fire breath, but it made the story better.

“When I saw him standing there, I aimed myself right at him, sword-first. I thought for sure it would never work. But he must not have planned for an attack from above, because the Starsword went right through him. He roared so loud he shook the mountain, and in his great and terrible voice, he said: what manner of Hero are you?”

He hadn’t actually roared. What he’d actually said was: what the fuck? But that wasn’t good storytelling.

“And I told him: I’m the Hero that killed you fastest of all.” They struck a pose. “You can call me Needle.” They’d named themselves after the Hero of legend, for luck. “With a final mighty roar, all the monsters vanished.”

The monsters hadn’t vanished on their own, but that part had been tedious. And they always left out the part where Karzarul had made a face, his brow furrowing and his mouth twisting, and he’d said: again?

That part didn’t make for a good ending.


Karzarul crouched, resting his chin in his hands. “Any last words?”

“This is a farce,” Malgath spat.

The Brutelings had put together an impressive guillotine on short notice. Karzarul did not think Malgath was adequately impressed by the guillotine. He didn’t have to like it to admit it was impressive.

“You could have used that opportunity to say something interesting,” Karzarul said, “for posterity.” He stood. “For the crimes of murder, attempted murder, attempted murder, torture, murder, desecration of a corpse—”

“That wasn’t me,” Malgath said.

Karzarul had taken the Sunshield away from him, as well as the sword he used as his magical instrument. The Brutelings had bound him up in sharp wire, an attentive audience as well as a jury. Karzarul thought he was controlling himself well, considering the state of bloodthirst all around him. They’d as happily rip out Malgath’s throat with their teeth, but they wanted to see how the guillotine worked. One Bruteling had already gotten worked up enough to kill another one.

They did that sometimes over trivial annoyances. Knowing they’d be back after the next full moon meant they considered it a form of time-out.

“Vivisection, then,” Karzarul decided. “That’s the word for it, isn’t it, when you cut out a man’s beating heart?”

“I put it back,” Malgath sputtered.

“Cutting off his fingers, cutting off his arms.”

“It was an experiment,” Malgath said. “Kelruil agreed to it, he agreed to all of it, he wanted answers as much as I did.”

“Did he?” Karzarul asked. “Did you tell him it was important? Did you make it feel right, carving him into pieces?”

“He’s fine,” Malgath said. “I would have put him back together even if the sacred spring hadn’t, he was never in any danger.”

“Is this what your love looks like?” Karzarul asked, crouching again. “That you need to see the bones of him, shine a light on every dark place inside of him rather than trust that it’s there?”

“I didn’t like doing it,” Malgath said. “He’s the only one who could. Enchanters will learn to make miracles with our work. No one else could do what we’ve done.”

“Who asked you to do it?” Karzarul demanded. “Only because you could? Does the fact that he could bear it constitute an obligation? You love the way a fire loves a forest. You tell me all the wonders that will grow because of you, while I stand here in the ashes.”

“Who are you,” Malgath said, “to stand in judgement of me? Do you think you’ll find him grateful that you’ve saved him from himself? He’s mine, forever and always. He’ll kill you for this, and the world will be no better for the loss of us.”

“Let him kill me,” Karzarul said. “If it means he lives a long and happy life, there is no better world.”

“Kill me, then,” Malgath said. “Cut my head off and get it over with. You could have killed me from the start, what was the point of this? Does it make you feel better to pretend that this is justice?”

Karzarul stood, threw his hands out with a twirl to gesture to the monsters and the ruins all around them. “The point is that I’m bored,” he suggested. “I am tired of this, I am tired of you. The absolute unmitigated horseshit of you. I am tired of letting him love you when this is what you do with it. I am tired of letting you have him. I am going to take everything you’ve ever accused me of. No more empires, no more kingdoms, no more legacies.”

He gestured to the Brutelings, who took their cue with gusto.

“No more head.”


Folwyth had known from the start the battle would be difficult. After the white wolf had killed Tanyth, he’d made it his mission to kill the Monster King. He’d traveled far and wide, learned every trick, made himself a weapon. He’d killed more men than monsters, but men weren’t easier to kill.

It was still harder than he could have dreamed. The Howler first, that great white wolf that had killed the greatest hunter in all of Yurith. Then it had changed, taken the form of a Tauril, massive and with a bow to match. Folwyth had managed to dodge the arrows, the axe that came down when he moved too close, had managed to strike if not ever at the core of him. He’d even managed to avoid the occasional fall of a lantern, iron bowls full of oil that burned to light the barren mountainside.

Then Karzarul had taken the form of a Drakonis, luring Folwyth higher up the mountain. Great gnashing teeth and fire breath, eyes that watched his every move. But if he timed it right, Folwyth could send out starbursts to explode in those many eyes and blind him. It gave him enough time to build up enough energy for a supernova, though it took a lot out of him to even try.

It seemed like it might be enough, as the moon-white Drakonis started to fall out of the sky. But then its shape turned to light, the way it had before.

“Another one?” Folwyth asked breathlessly despite himself.

What could be worse than a Drakonis?

Karzarul landed with two hooves on a high ledge, a toss of his braid and a swish to his tail. He stretched his hands above his head with an arch to his back, stroking his horns as he worked out the kinks in his limbs. The crescent of his crown sat in front of them, the shape of his skirt baring the thick muscle of his thighs. “Well,” he said with a ringing twitch of his hip, “I’m willing to concede that I’ve had worse.”

“… what.”

“If you were clever,” Karzarul said, summoning the Moonbow into one hand and twirling an arrow into the other, “this would be the part where you’d surrender.” He licked the tip of his arrow, nocked it with a wink.

What.

Folwyth almost didn’t dodge out of the way in time, the arrow embedding itself into the stone where he’d been standing. Pure concentrated power, they drove a hole straight through whatever they hit.

Whatever else he’d been prepared for, this hadn’t been it. He’d thought Drakonis would be the worst of it. No one had mentioned the King of All Monsters looking like that. The way he laughed when Folwyth stumbled, the way he chimed as he moved. The tinkling of bells echoing on the hard cliffs of the mountain. Folwyth tried to throw more starbursts, but Karzarul twirled away from them with a roll of his pelvis that felt… deeply unnecessary.

Folwyth tried to focus on getting closer, and not on what he was getting closer to. He needed to drive the Starsword straight through his heart if he wanted to end this.

“You just can’t stay away from me, can you?” Karzarul asked.

The tone also felt unnecessary.

Karzarul sighed, the Moonbow disappearing from his hand. “I never could say no to a pretty face,” he said, taking one impossibly great leap to land on the farther side of the flat area where Folwyth had been standing. Folwyth had to spin around to follow his descent, no more than fifty feet of level ground between them. Karzarul pulled his tunic off with a long arc of his arm, briefly not visible as he tossed the garment aside.

“That wasn’t necessary,” Folwyth muttered. The exertion of the fight was getting to him, making his face feel hot.

Karzarul rolled his shoulders, cracked his neck. A chain appeared around his left forearm, and with his right he twirled the heavy end of a meteor hammer. “Swords are a bit intimate,” he said, “don’t you think?” With that, the hammer flew toward Folwyth.

It wasn’t only the matter of the hammer, of the chain. It was the way Karzarul kept moving like the bells he wore were an instrument, and it was all Folwyth could do to time the music and determine when the strikes would come. It was the way Karzarul would spin his entire body along with the twirling hammer, dodging a low supernova with a cartwheel. If Folwyth tried to aim higher, he’d fall to the ground, legs out to either side of him, letting the chain wrap around his neck before dropping his head to let the hammer strike out.

As Folwyth tried to figure out a plan of attack—any plan—he tried to parry the hammer instead of dodging it. The chain caught around the blade of the Starsword, but Folwyth held tight to the hilt, and as a consequence Karzarul yanked him closer along with it. Folwyth found himself face-to-face with the Monster King, silver eyes looking straight down into his, a hoof between his boots.

“You never take me dancing anymore,” Karzarul sighed.

In a panic Folwyth tried to unwind the chain from his sword, spinning his entire body with it. Karzarul did the same, parallel motions until they’d untangled themselves. Before Folwyth could take advantage of the closer quarters, Karzarul used his elbow to control the spin of the hammer, sent it knocking into a lantern. When it rebounded, spinning in confounding configurations around Karzarul, it was covered in burning oil.

“It’s on fire now?” Folwyth complained, barely audible over his own ragged breathing.

“You can try again, you know,” Karzarul said, the blazing hammer still spinning. “I won’t stop you if you want to leave. Run away, pretty Hero, and fight me again some other day.”

He wanted to run. He wanted to stop. “I am no coward,” he spat.

“You’ll die a very brave death,” Karzarul said, and Folwyth only narrowly dodged a great burning sweep of the hammer at the level of his head.

Folwyth tried to move closer, tried to spin and weave so that he could move in the direction he wanted without getting hit. “I am no fool,” he said, “to trust the kindness of the King of All Monsters.”

Karzarul laughed. “You think that would be kindness?” he asked. The flame went out on the hammer, a sudden turn and a flick of his arm to send the chain wrapping around Folwyth’s wrists so that the weight would drag them down. Karzarul stepped on the other end of the chain, the Moonbow in his hand all at once, arrow nocked and drawn at the level of Folwyth’s chest.

“Kindness,” Karzarul said, “would be letting you surrender.” He tilted his head, looking down at the Hero who couldn’t hold his sword. “I’d even let you stay the night,” he said with a wry smile. “Wouldn’t it be nice,” he said, “to get a good night’s sleep?”

It shouldn’t have been tempting. It wasn’t tempting. Not to stop, not to rest, not to breathe. Not to lose, not to be done, not to give up. Not those eyes, not that smile. Not the sound of him or the way he moved, not the unspoken promise of him.

“You killed Tanyth,” Folwyth said.

“I did,” Karzarul agreed.

“One of us has to die,” Folwyth said.

“We don’t,” Karzarul said.

“I can’t live with that,” Folwyth said.

“You could learn,” Karzarul said.

“My dreams,” Folwyth said, “are haunted. I would rather die than bear it.”

Karzarul sighed. “Maybe next time.”


“Laurela,” Karzarul said, brushing willow branches out of his way. “It’s dinner time, come on.”

“I’ll be there in a minute,” she said, which she had probably been saying since he’d first tried to call her in using her bell pendant. She was curled up in the spot where the trunks split, nearly upside-down with her book against her knee. There was a leaf in one of her ruddy-blonde braids, and the Starsword was cutting into the bark of the tree. She liked to keep the sword strapped to the stump of her left leg now that she was tall enough, the blade exposed, leather armor covering the hilt. She never wanted to wear anything but short pants and long tunics. The willow branches were dense enough to give the illusion of privacy, a curtain between her and the world.

“Yes,” he agreed, taking the book away from her and tucking a silver piece of moonlight between the pages. She protested, wiggling to try and threaten him with her sword leg. “In a minute. Not ten minutes, not when the book is done. It’s time for dinner.” He tucked it into the saddlebag on his lower right shoulder.

“When I’m the Monster Queen,” she said, “I’m going to make it monster law that dinner is whenever I say it is.”

“Uh-huh,” he said, picking her up by her arms to haul her out of the tree. She kicked her legs in front of her in an obnoxious flail that was not enough to endanger him. “Put your leg away,” he added. With a huff she pulled the flattened sheath off her back, strapping it onto the Starsword.

She’d been saying she was going to marry him for ten years now, since the first time she’d made a Tauril bring her home, six years old with her leg hacked off. She’d lost it to Gwenviel along with her parents, though she hadn’t seemed as upset by that as she had by Karzarul’s refusal to treat her as an authority figure.

Karzarul set her down on his back, and she sat with her back against his. She balanced with one bare foot pressed against him and her sheathed sword sticking straight out. He headed back down the gentle slope of the hill, hooves crushing wildflowers. Yellows and pinks and blues dotted the grass in all directions, wild horses grazing in the distance. Vaelon had found the spot when the willow tree was small and left a Door to come back when it was bigger. “I remembered more,” she said.

“Yeah?” he said. He didn’t get his hopes up. She remembered a lot of things. Only some of the memories were hers. She’d been given the Starsword when she was practically a newborn, no sense of distinct personhood yet. Her mind had grown around it in strange ways. Sometimes she seemed old for her age. Most of the time she did not.

“I remember a place,” she said, “called the Rusty Spoon.”

Karzarul swallowed a lump in his throat, but didn’t stop walking. “You liked the beer,” he said, “and playing irritating songs.”

“I knew that was a real one,” she said, triumphant. “The songs must be why he stabbed me.”

“What?”

“The man with the red feather in his cap.”

Karzarul sighed. “That never happened,” he said. “Pretty sure that’s an unrelated murder.”

“Really?”

“I would remember if you’d been stabbed by an angry fop,” he said.

“Shoot,” Laurela said. “Who got stabbed, then?”

“I don’t know,” Karzarul said. “Lots of people get stabbed.”

“We should look into it,” she said. “Check records and things. Make sure they caught the guy.”

“Solve mysteries later,” Karzarul said. “Safi says you’ve been skipping self-defense classes.”

“I don’t need self-defense,” she insisted, wiggling her sheathed leg in the air. “I can do the sparky thing, and the boomy thing. If Gwenviel shows up I’ll kick her in the head.”

“That won’t help if you lose your sword,” Karzarul said.

“I’m not gonna lose my sword,” she said. “Besides. I’ve got you to keep me safe.”

“You can’t count on that.”

“I can always count on you,” she said. She noticed the leaf in her hair and tossed it aside. “Can we have cake for dinner?”

“I made goat stew,” Karzarul said.

“The mint one or the peppers one?”

“The peppers one.”

“Can we have cake after?”

“Knock Safi over without using your sword,” he said, “and you can have cake.”

“If there’s a cake,” she said, determination in her voice, “I’ll find it.”

“If you want to end up grounded, you can.”

“I’m too old to get grounded,” she protested.

“Try me.”

She huffed. “You’re mean,” she said.

“I know,” he said.

“You’re the worst,” she added.

“I know,” he said, ducking his head to walk through the Rainbow Door.

“When I’m Monster Queen, we’ll always have cake for dinner,” she said as they emerged on the mountain.

“Uh-huh.”


By the time Karzarul awoke, Tomas had already killed Gwenviel. It was anticlimactic, not getting the opportunity to avenge himself. Tomas had more a right to avenge Laurela than anyone, but Karzarul still would have liked to help.

He didn’t have it in him to kill Tomas, and it didn’t seem worth the effort of convincing him that neither of them had to die. What would that life be? Watching an angry young man turn into an angry old one? Better to die, and dream, and see if things could be different next time. Maybe next time there could be a window, however brief, where he could pretend it wouldn’t end the way it always did.


“I have to say,” Karzarul said, twirling his hammer, “the stoicism really isn’t doing it for me.”

The Hero continued to say nothing, all heavily-armored and square-jawed. It had been a while since one had shown up looking like a knight. Karzarul was irritated as much by the lack of reaction as he was by the murder attempt. Even when they were trying to murder him, Heroes usually had the decency to acknowledge that he was fucking with them.

The total silence, nothing but the clatter and creak of armor as he avoided the meteor hammer, was creepy.

“Do you have a name, at least?” Karzarul asked, as the hammer slammed down into the ground and left a crater. “Am I supposed to write ‘return to sender’ on your back before I kick your corpse downhill?” He cartwheeled over a supernova, twirled through starbursts with only minor damage to his legs. He spun his hammer in wide enough arcs to give himself some space, striking out before the Starsword could build any more energy on its blade.

“I am not here,” the knight said finally, “to reward the attention-seeking behavior of an abomination.”

“Rude,” Karzarul said, though he wasn’t sure which part he found most objectionable. A shame with that jawline. ‘Abomination’ was a tricky one to come back from. “Is that what they told you? Which kingdom’s Heir broke you this time?”

“I follow no false prophets,” the knight said, gathering almost no energy on the blade before swinging it outward. It was still enough to be annoying. “I serve in the Light of the Sun.”

“Oh, they made a mess of you, didn’t they?” That trick with the smaller arcs of light was proving to be troublesome, since it happened too quickly to interrupt the wind-up. “And still no introduction.” Karzarul pivoted the turn of the hammer with his leg so that it would wind around the Starsword’s blade, using it to yank the knight closer. The knight attempted to headbutt him, which felt uncalled for. Karzarul moved his head out of the way just enough to catch his ear. “Scared to hear me say your name?” he taunted.

The knight kicked him in the chest, which was something of an accomplishment in that much armor. Karzarul let his meteor hammer disappear, throwing the knight off-balance, pulling too hard at a free blade. He fell backward, rolled back up to his feet with murder in his eyes. Karzarul was already swinging the hammer he’d remade.

“Vile, shameless thing,” the knight said through his teeth, swinging the Starsword at a rapid pace, starbursts and supernovas falling off it irregular and staccato.

“One does one’s best,” Karzarul said, though more of those strikes were hitting their mark, the knight better able to get closer as the arc of his hammer was repeatedly interrupted.

“Hideous, aberrant, nightmare.” Closer and closer, Karzarul could have summoned an arrow, but did he want to? He could call it a mercy killing, getting rid of a man so miserable, but then he’d have to sit and wait for the next one. “Shut up.”

He liked dreams. No one ever died there.

“Make me, mystery man.”

The knight was too focused on sliding the Starsword through him to stop Karzarul from grabbing his face, pressing a kiss to his mouth that he didn’t deserve.

“Elias,” the knight croaked, “you fucking horror.”

“Elias,” Karzarul sighed, “try being less of an asshole next time.”

Elias pulled the Starsword back and tried to cut off a head that was already gone. His hands shook.


Breakfast was congee, and the table was a half-broken crate, sawed-off tree trunk logs for chairs. Karzarul had already helped himself to three bowls. Minnow had given Leonas a second bowl without asking. Leonas had been awake for three hours by the time the sun rose. He was wearing a white blouse and tight black pants that had been left ‘mysteriously’ in the morning, accompanied by a scrap of paper with a purple lipstick kiss. Karzarul had eaten it before Leonas saw it.

“So,” Minnow said between spoonfuls, “how would you feel about it if Leonas were my boyfriend?”

Astielle: Chapter Twenty-Three

They cleaned up the room with the Rainbow Door before they closed it. It wasn’t as if they could fix it, without someone who could use the Starsword.

They built a tomb, and they put the Starsword and the Sunshield in it until they could be reclaimed.

Karzarul had all the houses torn down and rebuilt, replaced all the strange towers and treehouses with proper houses made with fresh stone. He’d seen enough real houses to know what they were supposed to look like.

The Brutelings had built a ropeway, but they were the only ones who used it. And Rex, once. The cables had snapped under the weight of him, and the Brutelings had to build a new carriage to replace the one he shattered. They’d added a sign to indicate weight limits, carefully painted Aekhite calligraphy. They’d also added a diagram showing a Tauril crossed out, in case that wasn’t clear enough.

It was a little more like a real kingdom, anyway. Karzarul stayed in the castle, and let Impyrs be the ones who did things, Rubelite and Sapphire and Emerald and more. Obsidian stayed on Monster Mountain, though Karzarul could only sometimes bear to look at him. He knew it wasn’t fair, to treat him like a mistake. He was still a mistake. His attitude was the least objectionable of the Impyrs. It was still a touch objectionable.

The delegation from Aekhite were the first humans to use the ropeway. Karzarul resisted the temptation to meet them at the station, waiting in the throne room instead. The throne was itself more of a chaise, better suited to a Tauril’s body. Brutelings had offered to build a more traditional throne, one he could use as an Impyr, but he’d declined. He didn’t want Vaelon or Lynette to see him looking like that when they came back. He didn’t want them to see Sid at all, not until he was sure they’d forgiven him.

Indie and Mo acted as escorts, the most reliable of the Taurils. Bullizards lined the throne room like guards, though they didn’t care for the cold marble that had been put in for the floor.

Karzarul had seen real throne rooms, before. They had marble, not noisy mosaics made of broken mirrors and discarded dishes.

The woman who entered surrounded by knights was neither tall nor broad-shouldered. Older, too, than he remembered Lynette being when she had stopped aging. Karzarul hadn’t realized they would change so much. A much slower version of shifting to a new form.

When she was close enough, Karzarul could see her eyes. The same blue as she’d had before, the color of the sky on a sunny day in summer.

A knight stepped forward to announce her. “Her Highness Mida of Aekherium, Eighth Daughter of the Fourth Consort of Empress Aekhet the Fourteenth.”

“I am here,” she said, her head held high, “for the Sunshield.”

“Hello, Lynette,” Karzarul said. “What do you think of the Monster Kingdom?”

“I am Mida,” she said. “Lynette was my grandmother. You killed her. The Sun Goddess has chosen me as her heir.” Mida held up her right hand to display the sun symbol on the back of it.

“You got better,” Karzarul said impatiently. “Are you still upset? I don’t think you get to be the one holding a grudge, considering.”

“I am not here to play games,” she said. “I am here for my birthright, which you have stolen from me. This visit is a courtesy, as the Empress believes you can be reasoned with.”

Ashel had sent a few letters, all of them carefully crafted formalities. Karzarul wasn’t convinced she’d written them herself, or that she would be the one to read them. He had tried to respond in kind, though diplomacy and a way with words were not his strong suit. He hoped she didn’t hate him. Ashel knew as well as anyone what her mother was like.

“You know very well I’m not the unreasonable one here,” he said, rising from his throne and descending from the dais. “What do you think?” he asked, spreading his hands outward. “Does this better suit your idea of a king?”

“My idea of a king,” she said, “does not include a monster.”

Karzarul was beginning to lose patience. “I have made every effort,” he said, “to correct my mistakes since I saw you last. The least you could do is acknowledge that, even if you won’t apologize.”

“What do I have to apologize for?” she asked, indignant. “And to the thing that murdered me, no less?”

“What do you have to apologize for?” Karzarul repeated, voice rising. “If that’s a joke, it’s in poor taste.” Knights moved closer to Mida as Karzarul loomed. “If you wanted to make him choose,” Karzarul shouted, “you should have asked! You think I don’t know? You think, in all this time, I never figured out what you did? Do you not remember how many opportunities you had to stop?”

“I remember,” she said, “choking on my own blood.” His jaw set. “I remember a monster who could not bear to see me have anything of my own. Not my victories, not my title, not my children.”

“Stop it.”

“Parasite, usurper, face-stealer.”

Karzarul roared, and when a knight moved to protect Mida he stomped him with one of his front hooves. Bullizards took it as their cue, blocking the way of knights already trying to take Mida away. She tried to pull her sword, but Karzarul knocked it out of her hand with the same hoof, reached down to pick her up by the collar of her jacket.

“If it weren’t for you,” Karzarul snarled, bringing her face close to his, “Vaelon would yet live. If you ever loved him at all, you’d apologize for that, at least.”

She pulled a dagger from her belt and stabbed his forearm. With a roar, he threw her to the ground. Her body bounced once against the marble, then fell limp.

“Ah.” He hesitated. “You. Used to be stronger. Than that.” He knelt, but her neck was at an odd angle, her eyes already dim.

Another sun appeared on the back of his left hand.

“Shit. Shit.” He rubbed at his face. “I shouldn’t have done that, why did I do that.”

Bullizards and knights were still fighting through the throne room.

He pressed his palms into his eyes and tried to catch his breath. It was less upsetting if he didn’t look at her. “It’s fine,” he said. “She just, she needed more time. Once Vaelon is here, he’ll. We’ll be ready, next time. I wasn’t ready for her to, to be like that. That’s all.”

“Hey, Boss,” Sid said. Karzarul had been too distracted to notice him entering the throne room. The shimmering pitch-black Impyr crouched beside him. “Delegation’s dead.”

“Yeah,” Karzarul said.

“Want me to clean up, act like they never made it?”

“I guess,” Karzarul said. “What else am I supposed to say? ‘Sorry she was being a bitch again’?” He rubbed at his nose, made himself reach down to pick Mida up. “Shit,” he said, holding the limp body against his chest. “She’s—she was too small, this time. She shouldn’t have been so small. Stupid.”

“Don’t know what you feel bad about,” Sid said. “She’s still only going to remember dying twice. That’s not so bad.”

“You’re not helping.”


Despite the disastrous incident with Mida, Karzarul couldn’t restrain his excitement when a man with a star on his hand took the ropeway up the mountain. Karzarul ran to the station instead of waiting in the throne room, standing at the great stone gate at the top of the stairs. He was surprised despite himself when the person who emerged from the carriage was blonde, his features softer even from a distance than the sharper angles of Vaelon’s face.

Karzarul’s heart constricted, and he swallowed down the lump in his throat. He could learn to love a new face. He could love any face, if it was Vaelon’s.

“And what new songs are you here to sing me?” Karzarul asked, projecting his voice down the stairs.

“I am Qaelin,” the human called from below, “Knight of the Imperial Palace of Empress Aekhet.”

“Ashel made you a knight?” Karzarul laughed. “You? I can’t believe you let her.”

Qaelin unsheathed his sword and pointed it up at Karzarul. “I am here to challenge you,” he announced, “and to win back the Starsword that is my birthright.”

Karzarul hesitated, flicking his ears. “I—of course you can have the Starsword. It’s yours. You don’t need to challenge me.” He looked Qaelin over again. “Are you really Vaelon?” he asked, wringing his hands. “You’re acting weird.”

Qaelin switched the hand of his sword, pulled off his armored glove to show the star there.

It still didn’t feel right. His attitude, his body language, none of it was Vaelon’s. Anyone could paint a mark on their hand. “Prove it’s you,” Karzarul said. “Sing for me.”

“I will do not such thing,” Qaelin said, pulling his glove back on. “Do you think I need the Starsword to end you?” he asked. “That I give you the opportunity to allow me to pass is a kindness.”

Karzarul’s heart sank. “You’re not Vaelon,” he said. “Vaelon wouldn’t speak to me that way.”

“I told you already, monster,” he said. “I am Ser Qaelin, and I am here to take back what you’ve stolen.”

“You are a fool,” Karzarul said, “to think that I would believe you, when you are not fit to even speak Vaelon’s name.” Karzarul summoned the Moonbow into his hands, felt time slow as he drew the arrow and let it fly. It ran Qaelin straight through, impaled him into the cobblestones behind him at a sharp angle like a spear through his heart.

Karzarul watched the star appear on the back of his left hand.

“Hey, Boss,” Sid said when he finally found him. “Want me to clean up that mess by the ropeway?”

“It was Vaelon,” Karzarul said. “It was Vaelon and I killed him.”

He hadn’t been able to go down and get a closer look, couldn’t bring himself to see the person Vaelon had become. Who had said those things with Vaelon’s soul.

“If it was Vaelon,” Sid said, “you wouldn’t have killed him. You’d let him kill you first.”

This was true. “Something went wrong,” Karzarul said. “He didn’t—neither of them came back right. They weren’t themselves. They got lost, or—spent too much time as a different person. It didn’t work right.”

“Shit,” Sid said.

“Maybe they aren’t used to it,” Karzarul said. “Having a new body. Being the same person.”

“Humans are pretty attached to their bodies,” Sid said.

“Right,” Karzarul said. “Exactly. This was just the first one. The first one doesn’t have to turn out.”

“You might be thinking of pancakes,” Sid said.

“Shut up.”


Karzarul gave up on being a proper king. His only order was the find the man with the eight-pointed star on his hand, find him in case it was time that was the trouble.

Karzarul fashioned himself a pair of gloves.

He’d gone back to the Faewild to read the terms and conditions again, but all he was allowed were the ones for the Moonbow. They didn’t tell him anything about humans or the Starsword. If there was anything useful in his portion, he could not interpret it.

The Fairy King had no useful feedback. Only a shrug, and a ‘people change’. This did Karzarul no good at all.

Dain was too old already when the monsters finally found him. Karzarul saw him, the star on the back of his hand, using a cheap sword to kill a Bruteling. And another, and another, and another. Karzarul used a Rainbow Door to find him, a Tauril as he galloped across fields trying to find the farm this new Vaelon called his own.

“Sing for me,” Karzarul said, his arrow at Dain’s throat, bowstring taut. “Prove it’s you. Prove it worked right, this time.”

Dain tried to slice Karzarul’s arm at the wrist. Karzarul didn’t move.

“You tell her,” he said. “Tell the Void Goddess to do it right, this time. You tell her to send you back right, or I’m going to kill every wrong one she sends me. I waited. You tell her, I’m waiting, and you need to come back for real this time.”

He let the arrow fly. Another star stained the back of his hand.


Karzarul did not learn until later that her name had been Elisa, the heir to Aekhite that could not bear to ask for her shield back. The one who decided she’d rather go on her own terms. Karzarul could almost be grateful to her, that it wasn’t his mark to bear. She was the last from Aekherium.

Aubron was from Gaigon, newly freed from the yoke of empire. Karzarul was surprised to see a man at all, let alone from there. If he’d asked, Karzarul might have given him the Sunshield. Let him have it, and let him go be not-Lynette elsewhere.

He did not ask. Karzarul had another sun on his hand.

They were young, both of them, younger even than Vaelon had been when Karzarul first took form. Barely adults, childish faces. It was a year after Karzarul killed Aubron that Blade came to the mountain.

“That’s not a name,” Karzarul said. He tossed the belt with the Starsword’s sheath on it across the courtyard. “Take it.”

“I won’t fall for your tricks,” Blade said.

“Take the fucking sword,” Karzarul snarled. The hilt of the blade glittered. Slowly Blade moved closer, close enough finally to pick it up, dropping his other sword. “Remember anything?” Karzarul asked as Blade unsheathed it.

“I remember,” Blade said, “blood.”

Impyr form put Karzarul at a disadvantage, but he took it anyway. He wanted to be closer, wanted him to see, wanted it to trigger something.

It didn’t.

“Sing for me,” Karzarul said, holding an arrow at Blade’s throat like a dagger. “If you can sing for me, I’ll let you live.”

Sid found Karzarul sitting on the castle roof. He was a Bruteling, scratching at the newest star on his hand. Three suns and three stars spiraling outward and toward his wrist, he peeled away his skin and found only light leaking silver onto stone. As soon as his skin was solid it was patterned black again.

“No luck?” Sid asked.

Karzarul’s hand became incorporeal, reformed without light or blood or broken skin, covered by a glove.

“I think,” he began, his voice trembling. He swallowed, and his voice broke. “I think Vaelon is gone.” He drew his knees up to his chest, clutched at his head. “He’s—I didn’t—I didn’t even say goodbye, Vaelon’s been dead for a hundred years and I, I never said goodbye. He was supposed to come back.” Karzarul rubbed at his eyes with the heels of his hands. “I waited, and I waited, but it’s forever. We could have had forever, and instead she—” He made a choked sound, sobbed until the sob turned into a roar.

He took off from the castle, too many legs and eyes and wings. Black Drakonis saw him go, and took off after him. They screamed their fury into the sky, and headed in the direction of Aekherium.


The fact that they came to the castle together gave Karzarul a brief moment of hope. That, and their ages, about what they should have been. Karzarul had the monsters give them a clear path to the castle, but to his surprise they broke into the Tomb instead, stole back the weapons and killed any monsters that tried to stop them. As soon as they had them it was clear the dynamic was wrong, a daring swordsman protected by a shieldbearer casting barriers from behind. Vaelon would never take the lead, and Lynette would never let him.

“And what do they call you,” Karzarul asked with more than a little disdain when they entered the throne room.

“Nabeth, Shrinemaiden of the Sun,” the man introduced on her behalf. He wore a tunic and leggings and his hair too short, too thin and too pale to ever be Vaelon. “And Needle.”

“That’s not a name,” Karzarul said.

“It lets people know,” he said with a twirl of the Starsword, “that I’m kind of a prick.”

“Oh, I’m definitely killing you,” Karzarul said.

Except that with both of them armed, working in tandem, it was harder. He’d taken to using a meteor hammer when the distance was too short for a bow, a great heavy ball at the end of a long chain. He didn’t like sparring up close, not with them, not like this. But she blocked his arrows and his hammer with the Sunshield, and if he tried to strike at her Needle would use the distraction to cut at his legs. It was more than he was used to dealing with, unused to anything that could block either of his weapons.

Karzarul tried leading them out of the throne room so that he could take Drakonis form, but Needle found a trick that Vaelon never had. He could swing the Starsword just-so, and release a wave of sparkling purple light.

When Karzarul hit the ground, reforming into something smaller and more manageable, he landed too close to where Needle had already been. As soon as he was standing as an Impyr, Needle was driving the Starsword into his chest. He could feel the blade of it all the way through him, the hot and cold burn of it as the essence of it repelled the essence of himself.

Karzarul looked down at the sword in his chest with more than a little surprise. Light was pouring out of him, and he was already losing his shape.

“Can I… die?” he asked, surprised. “I can die?”

Maybe it would be better this way. He could die, the way Vaelon had died, and come back as someone new. Someone who didn’t remember, the way no one else seemed to remember.

He fell apart. He found himself in ponds and lakes and mirrors and windows. Puddles and wide-open eyes. He dreamed, eventually. Snippets of memories and shapes and voices, it was a long time before he realized he was dreaming. He struggled to reform as soon he realized, fell back into dreaming when he couldn’t. An endless cycle where every moment of lucidity became a struggle to Be.

Until it worked, and he Was.

He was a Bruteling only briefly, turned into a Tauril as soon as there was enough of him. He was standing in his throne room, or what his throne room had been. The walls were collapsing, the marble half-missing.

Karzarul looked down at his hands. A moon on his right, and nothing on the left. “Why do I remember?”

He barely summoned an arrow in time to block the Starsword.

“You again?” Karzarul asked, surprised.

The same terrible man, though not quite the same face, hair gone white and wrinkled skin. A moon on his left hand.

“Why are you old?” Karzarul demanded.

“I’m well-preserved,” Needle said with a grin.

Karzarul looked at the woman who carried the Sunshield, black-haired and smooth-skinned. “She’s not old,” Karzarul said.

“That’s Kalynn,” Needle said. “She’s new. Nabeth couldn’t hack it.”

“What?” Karzarul said, but he couldn’t seem to move fast enough. He’d been formless and dreaming too long, too recent.

Needle ran him through again.

“Seriously?” Karzarul asked.

He fell apart. He dreamed. He had a better sense, this time, of when the time wasn’t right. When it wasn’t enough.

When he might as well make himself at home in his dreamscape.


Karzarul stalked through the forest around their camp. There weren’t many beast monsters to be found, but those he did find, he drew back into himself. He never wanted Jonys to see another monster, not if he could help it. The faced monsters knew to keep their distance by now, since he’d only take them back to the mountain at the next full moon.

Brutelings kept trying to rebuild the ropeway, but Karzarul had told Sid not to let them.

He was something akin to happy. It would strike him at odd moments, the memories of Vaelon and terrible yearning. He would remember all at once that Vaelon was gone and would never come back, and he wanted nothing more than to scream so loud the whole world would hear it.

But there was Jonys. The first time Karzarul thought it might be something like okay without Vaelon. Jonys who watched him with hungry eyes, rough hands and a soft touch and music in his heart. Jonys who always wanted to help, who always paid his debts.

Jonys, who couldn’t have lived if Vaelon hadn’t died.

It felt greedy to think that could make it okay. To be loved and touched and wanted, to be claimed by another man’s hunger almost every night. It felt like a betrayal, as if Vaelon hadn’t been enough. He’d know it was fine if it was anyone else, if it were some other person making him feel this way. Instead it was Jonys, who had the same soul in the body that pressed kisses down his spine. Who covered him in bells and made an instrument of him.

Karzarul could tell when Jonys returned because he could see the glow of the Starsword through the forest. He’d never managed to cut a new Door, but in every other respect Jonys had been a prodigy. Almost as soon as he’d acquired the Starsword, he’d figured out how to form starbursts, how to make it glow in blues and purples without letting it go supernova.

Sometimes the starbursts went off a little too close to his hair, but dancers at festivals were always impressed.

“Did you eat already,” Karzarul called, “or should I make you something?”

It was instinct more than anything that made him jump. He hadn’t consciously realized that the glow had swung loose from the Starsword, a great band of energy flying outward in a blue arc. He only narrowly avoided it striking his hooves as it swept through the forest, knocking down trees long after it had missed him, a great swathe of devastation. Starbursts had followed behind the supernova, exploded as Karzarul hit the ground.

“Jonys?” Karzarul asked, the crash of falling trees all around him, birds taking to the sky and deer falling dead.

Jonys spun the Starsword in figure-eights, accumulating more starbursts along the blade, glowing brighter with every turn. It was a trick Karzarul had watched him do before, but never in silence. The hazelquartz seeds on his bracers rattled without rhythm.

His eyes glowed like sunlight.

“Jonys,” Karzarul called with a rising sense of confusion and dread.

Magic was the Void Goddess’ domain; it wasn’t meant to glow. Aimon the Enchanter was a witch, but with his soul bound to the sun, his witchmarks shone. There was an inherent wrongness to him, a thing which should not have been. Magic was meant to be a cold, dark thing, inviting and empty. It was not meant to burn.

It had not been the only reason Karzarul did not trust Aimon, but it had been enough.

Jonys swung a supernova at him again, and Karzarul barely dodged again, though this time starbursts caught him close enough to tear into his skin. Karzarul managed to get closer, summoning a dull practice blade to block the Starsword when Jonys moved to strike.

“Jonys, you need to wake up,” Karzarul urged. “Whatever he’s doing, you need to resist it.”

Jonys continued to advance, constant attacks with all of his power and none of his grace. Karzarul kept having to push more moonlight into his dummy sword to keep it from breaking, couldn’t take the time to patch the holes in his legs, throbbing pain where the light inside him was exposed to the night air. The ringing of bells and the rattling of hazelquartz clashed with the sound of blades, no rhyme or reason to it.

“Jonys, please,” Karzarul begged. “I won’t leave you here like this, you know I won’t.” What else might Aimon have him do, if he could make Jonys do this? Karzarul tried whistling a few notes of one of Jonys’ favorite songs, one he could never resist playing along to. A fragile hope, that it might be enough to call him back.

Karzarul noticed, when Jonys turned his head, a seam of light over his throat.

“Are—are you okay?” Karzarul asked, suddenly fearing he knew the answer. “You have to resist, you have to be okay.” But now that Karzarul had seen it he couldn’t not, the jagged line of light that didn’t quite close, the stiffness in Jonys’ limbs and the lack of expression on his face. “If you’re—if you can get better, you have to give me a sign.”

Karzarul faltered enough that the Starsword sliced through his left forearm, his hand dissolving into nothing as it came away from his body.

Jonys wouldn’t want to be used like this. It was not a kindness, to let his body persist like this. Full of light, enough to animate his limbs.

But could he wield the Starsword, without a soul inside him?

“I can’t do this,” Karzarul said, his vision getting blurred. “Jonys, I can’t. I’m sorry. If it’s temporary you have to—don’t be mad. You have to kill him for me, I know I should but I, I can’t do it. I don’t want you to be gone. I know it isn’t fair, if it has to be you. I’m sorry. Try to remember better next time. Remember that I love you.”

He let his sword disappear to kiss Jonys’ forehead, the Starsword sinking into his stomach.

He dreamt of drums and firelight.


Annah was well-practiced at making her way down the garden path with her cane, but it was always good to have Helper with her. He would nudge her in different directions, coaxing her away from things that might trip her up, misplaced stones or snails with bad timing. “Good boy,” she said as she touched the edge of the rail on her porch ramp, moving to unlock her front door.

Jerome had built this house for her when they were young. Railings all around, tidy paths and fences, posts to orient herself. She still ought to have moved, after he’d died, but she couldn’t bear the thought. This was her house, and she knew the touch of every wall and chair, the creak of every floorboard. She liked the protection it offered, living in the shadow of Monster Mountain.

Jerome had grown up near the Faewild, and he’d taught her the old ways, how to speak respectful and leave gifts. Monsters weren’t so different, in his estimation. Since they’d built this house, they’d left offerings at the edges of the fences, bowls of beer and slaughtered chickens when they could afford it. She’d kept it up even as a widow, and there’d never been any trouble. Never a bandit, never even a salesman.

A hero, once. A Starlight Hero, real and true, with a Sunlight Heir right beside him. Jerome had seen the symbols on their hands, though she couldn’t. Young and eager, like runaway lovers. Jerome had warned them off the mountain, told them not to make trouble where there was none.

They hadn’t listened, and they hadn’t come back. There had been no trouble since, though Annah was alone and Jerome long gone.

Not quite alone. There was Helper. A stray turned up in a moment of need, when she’d found herself turned around after old fenceposts had fallen. Happy to nudge her in the right direction, to help pull her up, to find things she’d lost. Listening when she found herself rambling, keeping her feet warm while she knit. She’d been trying to knit herself a map of the world using only what she remembered from traveling with Jerome. It wasn’t a good map, but that wasn’t the point. She liked remembering where she’d been, what it had been like to be a runaway lover, young and eager. Helper always barked at the right parts in her stories, and she appreciated that about him.

She sat back in her favorite chair, held out her hand until a familiar furry head pressed itself against her palm. She scritched him behind the ears, and his tail thumped against the floor.

Annah wasn’t a fool. She lived in the shadow of Monster Mountain, and Helper was bigger than any ordinary dog. Too gentle, too clever. Mysterious visitors fixing her fenceposts, repairing her floors while she slept, leaving baskets harvested from her garden on the porch when her arthritis flared up. She left her gifts at the fences, said her thanks to no one in particular, and didn’t question it.

She hadn’t made it to her age by feeling for a good dog’s teeth.

Astielle: Chapter Twenty-Two

“When’s the last time you slept?” Vaelon asked.

“You know you’re not supposed to be in here,” Lynette said, still staring at her maps like they might reveal some secret.

“Neither are you, at this time of night.”

Lynette picked up her mug, dragged herself through the door and Vaelon with her. “Somewhere in the Empire,” she said, “the Sun is shining.”

“Somewhere,” Vaelon said, “but not here.” She took a sip from her mug, and he wrinkled his nose, wincing away from the smell wafting from it. “Do I want to know what that is?”

She snorted. “You know how Arik likes to putter around the garden,” she said. “Making little potions out of flowers and things.”

Vaelon laughed. “He’s a grown man, Nettles,” he said. “He’s not shoving leaves into old jars with sticks.”

She shrugged. “He sort of is,” she said. “New jars. Fancy sticks.”

“Don’t you have new babies to baby?” Vaelon asked.

“Always,” she sighed. “I know I don’t choose consorts for a lack of stamina, but at a certain point the situation becomes absurd. The latest was Calae again.”

“At his age?”

“He’s showing off now. Edwin is horrified, as you can well imagine.”

“His son and his brother can have playdates,” he said, and she snorted again.

Vaelon wasn’t imagining that she barely looked at him these days. Walking and talking, eyes on the room, on her mug, anywhere but his face. What did she think she’d see? What did she think he’d see?

“You can’t keep doing this, Nettles,” he said. “You’ve got at least five kids fit to take the throne, if you’ll let them.”

“They weren’t chosen by the Sun Goddess.”

“Were you?” he asked, and her jaw set. “You knew you were worthy. All you needed was proof. You got that. She didn’t descend from above unbidden.”

“Nonetheless,” Lynette said. They passed outside, through a passageway above a courtyard. There was a light drizzle, droplets falling from the edges of the roof.

“You’ve been listening to too many Sun Clerics,” Vaelon said. He’d never cared for the Sun Temple, for the convenient fiction that the Emperor was the Sun Goddess’ earthly vessel. Having a visibly blessed Empress Aekhet had made them insufferable.

If they’d truly believed Lynette’s will was the will of a Goddess, they wouldn’t have spent so much time steering her away from blasphemies.

Lynette stopped to look out over the rail into the courtyard. “They think I ought to give you a title,” she said.

He laughed. “A Voidpriest and a witch?” he asked, leaning backward against the railing. She still didn’t look at him. “How many slurs in this title?”

“It isn’t the Voidsword,” Lynette said with a shrug. “What is a star, they say, but a lesser sun.”

Vaelon’s smile faded. “You’re serious.”

She stared into the middle distance. “I don’t have what you have,” she said. “People listen to you. The Sun Clerics see it, too, even if they don’t like you. In principle. In practice, everyone likes you. Even the ones that hate you.” She looked down into her mug. “I thought it would be enough,” she said. “To be blessed. To be right. I am Empress Aekhet the Thirteenth, Sunlight Empress Immortal, earthly vessel of the divine. All lands touched by the Sun are my rightful domain. I have done nothing but try to help my people, and for all that, still no one fucking listens to me.” Her mug shattered in her hand, dripped tea and broken clay down the rail to disappear in rain.

“Baby,” he said, “that’s too much for one person.”

“Would you do it?” Lynette asked. “If I asked you to serve me, would you feign acceptance of the Light of the Sun? Would you be a weapon for me to wield?”

Vaelon gripped the rail tighter behind him. “… if you asked.”

“If I asked of you atrocities, what then? You could talk a man into his own doom, if you tried. Turn families against each other, start a war with a smile. Would you do it, if I asked?”

“I’d do anything for you.”

“You say that,” Lynette said. “I know you better. It isn’t for you, to do what must be done. Your heart would recoil from it, you could not bear it. You’ve always been the good one, of us. You would despise me for asking, and you would be right.”

“I could never—”

I know you better,” she repeated. “You would not let me make a monster of you.”

The sound of water on stone filled the night air. The moon was full above them.

“That word doesn’t mean what it used to mean,” Vaelon reminded her.

She drummed her fingers on the railing. “How fares Karzarul?” she asked.

“As well as ever,” Vaelon lied.

His episodes were getting worse. They had gone from a fluke to a rarity to a sometimes event, and now they came with the seasons. Karzarul handled them better than he once had, but Vaelon could tell they still affected him. He grew sullen, withdrawn, disappeared through Rainbow Doors without explanation. The closest he had come to discussing it was to say that it had something to do with how monsters were made. The one time Vaelon had tried to inquire further, Karzarul had grown upset, had disappeared for a week. Vaelon still felt awful about it, and resigned himself to the fact that Karzarul would tell him more only when he was ready.

If he’d seen anyone else having this kind of trouble with reproduction, he would have suggested they abstain.


“You’ve gotten really good,” Arik said, lowering his sword. “As good as Mother.”

“I doubt it,” Karzarul said darkly. Karzarul realized this changed the tone of the conversation, and so he tried to smile. A Bullizard’s face was not suited to the expression, and he gave up. It was the only form he had that worked for fencing now that Arik was grown. Karzarul scratched at the scales near the base of his stubby horns. “She’s very good,” he said, as if it were a compliment.

“She’s had a lot of practice,” Arik said, raising his sword again.

“She has,” Karzarul said, trying to keep his tone neutral as he parried the first blow. He focused on their blades, on his feet, on keeping his tail out of the way. As long as he focused on those, he thought he could be fine.

It helped that Arik looked nothing like his mother. Red hair and freckles and green eyes, like his other mother. It was turning white at his temples, lines around his eyes. Aging and dying and that was the other thing Karzarul couldn’t think about. It was one thing to return to some far-off place and find out who’d died in the meantime. It was another to watch it happen, little bits and pieces and sometimes all at once. Visiting one day to find a different person than the one he’d left behind, finding glimpses of the ones he remembered in the person they’d become.

Arik changed the least, and maybe that’s why he was Karzarul’s favorite.

“Have you ever been to the Necropolis?” Arik asked, apropos of nothing.

“No,” Karzarul said. He went where Vaelon took him, and graves were not his area of interest.

“I’ve always wondered,” Arik said, “what Moon Cultists must make of monsters. If they think Shimmerbats are sacred. If they think of you as holy.”

“If they do,” Karzarul said, “no one’s ever bothered to tell me.”

“We could ask Uncle Vaelon, when he gets back.”

Karzarul gave a twist of his sword to disarm Arik. “From the Necropolis?” Karzarul asked. “That’s where he went?” Vaelon hadn’t given specifics, only said he’d needed to run an errand. Usually that meant he was going somewhere that it would be awkward to try to hide a snake under his clothes, or a bat in his pocket.

“Unofficially,” Arik confirmed. “The Moon Cultists have said they won’t talk to Sun Clerics anymore. Bit of a problem when the official position of the Sun Temple is still that dismembering a corpse is sacrilege. Personally, I’d try not offending the only people willing to do death rites for the unclaimed, but what do I know.” Arik picked his sword back up. “Easier to send a Voidpriest over before the bodies start piling up.”

“We leave our corpses where we make them, usually,” Karzarul said.

Arik shrugged. “Too many empty bodies in one place makes problems,” he said. “Doesn’t make any sense with current doctrine, but we’re still doing it, so I assume that means it’s real.” Arik contemplated the blade of his sword, an ornate thing for sparring and special occasions. It wasn’t meant to taste blood. “I’m not happy,” he said suddenly.

“Oh.” Karzarul let the moonlight sword he’d made disappear. “I’m sorry.”

“I’m going to grow old and die here,” Arik said, looking at his reflection in the steel. “There are times when I believe I can accept it. A little life, chemistry and horticulture. Being a good uncle. A good grand-uncle.” Arik gestured to the courtyard around them. “What do I have to complain about?” He dropped the point of the sword toward the ground. “I’ve never done a single thing I’ve been proud of,” he said. “I’ve never seen anything interesting that wasn’t through a window. I’ve never met anyone that didn’t know I was the son of the Empress. I used to fantasize about running away, someday. Making a life of my own, with someone who loved me. Except I didn’t. I never did anything. And now I’m…” He trailed off, rubbing his hand over his eyes.

Karzarul shifted to a Bruteling, and hugged Arik’s legs.

“I want to go somewhere that no one knows me,” Arik said, tilting his head back to look at the sky. “I want to be useful. I’ve been good my whole life, done everything I was supposed to, and all it’s got me is old.”

“You’re not that old,” Karzarul said.

“I feel old,” Arik said. “I’m sorry, Uncle Karzarul. Don’t tell Uncle Vaelon, but I think you’re my favorite.” He patted Karzarul on top of his head.

“You’re my favorite nephew,” Karzarul assured him.

“I already knew that,” Arik said with a smile.

Karzarul smiled back. “When did you want to leave?”


“Karzarul!” Vaelon called as soon as he was through the Rainbow Door. They’d put it in for Karzarul’s benefit, since Vaelon didn’t visit the castle often if at all. Karzarul was always quick to herd Vaelon away from other monsters, and Vaelon was willing to admit that he found their attention off-putting. He was used to being liked. He wasn’t used to strangers with Karzarul’s face.

“Hello, Vaelon,” said a nervous Bullizard standing by the door to the rest of the castle. He was wearing a long tunic, sword and horn at his hip. He didn’t reach for either. He was dwarfed by the size of the room, the entire castle built to accommodate Taurils.

“Can you let him know I’m here?” Vaelon asked.

“He knows,” the Bullizard said without clarifying.

Vaelon paced the length of the enormous hall the Door was kept in, wringing his hands. He heard Karzarul coming long before he arrived, the noisy sound of hooves against stone.

“Vaelon?” Karzarul asked, hooves skidding on the tile as he only barely brought himself to a stop in time.

“Is he here?” Vaelon asked before Karzarul could say anything else.

The Bullizard quietly saw himself out.

“What? Who?”

“Arik,” Vaelon said. “He’s run off somewhere, he—he left a note. I told her she needed to let them get this shit out of their systems when they were teenagers, but did she listen? Now he’s sneaking out of the Imperial Palace with bad knees and doesn’t know better than to leave a note.”

Karzarul scuffed his hoof against the tile. “He didn’t want her thinking someone took him.”

“She thinks it was you,” Vaelon said. Karzarul rubbed the back of his neck. “Was it you?”

“I didn’t take him,” Karzarul said. “He’s not a thing you can steal.”

Vaelon rubbed his hands over his face. “Karzarul. Please tell me you didn’t have anything to do with this.”

“He wanted help,” Karzarul said, and Vaelon made an incoherent sound of distress. “What was I supposed to do?”

“Talk to his mother!” Vaelon said, dropping his hands. “Lynette could have found something for him to do, somewhere for him to go, if he didn’t want to be there anymore.”

“He’s his own person,” Karzarul said. “He didn’t want her help. He asked me in confidence, I wouldn’t betray that.”

“He isn’t just anyone,” Vaelon said. “He’s the Second Son of the Third Consort, it isn’t safe for him to be wandering around out there.”

“He didn’t want to be safe,” Karzarul said. “He wanted to be Arik. There isn’t any reason for anyone to recognize him.”

“You could have talked to me,” Vaelon said. “I would have talked to Lynette for him.”

Karzarul rubbed at the moon on his hand, eyes downcast. “You would have talked to him for Lynette.”

“You don’t know that.”

“There isn’t anything you wouldn’t do for her,” Karzarul reminded him, meeting his eyes. Vaelon started to argue, rubbed his forehead instead. “It’s better this way,” Karzarul said. “You didn’t have to take sides, or do anything you weren’t comfortable with. She can be mad at me, because it’s all my fault.”

“You don’t get to decide that!” Vaelon said, and Karzarul shrank back. It was as close as Vaelon had ever come to yelling at him. “You don’t make decisions like that without consulting me, you don’t get to decide you’re protecting me from hard choices. You don’t get to decide what I can handle.”

Karzarul swallowed, holding his hands close to his chest. “That wasn’t what I meant.”

“I know what you meant,” Vaelon said.

Lynette came through the Rainbow Door.

Karzarul and Vaelon both froze.

She was wearing her crown and a blue silk dress, her boots and her pauldrons. Flawless, except for the murder in her eyes, the sword naked in her hand. Karzarul took a reflexive step back.

“Where is he?” she demanded.

“I don’t know,” Karzarul said.

“Bullshit,” she said.

“He asked me to help him get out,” Karzarul said.

“It’s not a fucking prison,” she snapped. “He didn’t need you to help him escape.” She gestured wildly, as if she weren’t still gripping her blade tight. “He could have left!” she said, arms held wide. “Any time, if he wanted to leave, he could have asked. He could have left normally instead of getting whisked away in the night by a fucking monster.” She spat the word.

“Nettles,” Vaelon warned, but she ignored him.

“If he’s free to leave,” Karzarul asked, “why are you here?”

“Because I don’t know where he is!” she shouted, pressing a hand over her heart. “I’m his mother. What if he changes his mind? What if something happens? How am I supposed to keep an eye on him?”

Karzarul was tense, pulse pounding, trying not to make any sudden moves. “Not keeping an eye on him,” he said, “was kind of the point.”

“I never should have let you talk me into letting them meet him,” she said to Vaelon. “It would have been better if they’d been scared of him.”

“You don’t mean that,” Vaelon said.

“Don’t tell me what I mean,” she snarled. “I am well the fuck aware that you’re going to defend him. You always defend him. No matter how much he does to undermine me, no matter how many times he tries to take everything I have and make it his.”

“I haven’t—” Karzarul began.

“Shut up,” she snapped. She pointed her sword at him, and he took another step back.

Abysscales in the West and Taurils in the North and Bullizards to the South, everywhere he’d ever thought he might be able to do more good than harm. Never big things, always small ones, guarding one ship or one town or one caravan but it was still too much to be borne. Soldiers and knights all killed their share but it was worst when it was her, she wasn’t interested in allowing for strategic retreat. He would have given up but the monsters were more stubborn than he was, always determined that they’d do better this time.

“Get down here if you want to talk to me,” Lynette said. “I’m not talking to that.”

“Don’t talk to him that way,” Vaelon said, trying to stand between them both. “And don’t point your sword at him.”

Vaelon acting as a shield was more than Karzarul could take. He shifted on instinct to trade places, to put himself before the point of the sword.

Ten comets of light left him, darting out the doors and windows.

“Are you fucking kidding me.” Lynette lowered her sword, but not for any loss of fury. “Why?” she demanded. “Why would you do that?

“You wanted me down here,” Karzarul said helplessly.

“You stupid motherfucker.” Lynette struck out with her sword, and suddenly Karzarul had one of the Moonbow’s arrows in his left hand, using it like a dagger to block her blade. He pivoted with her to draw her away from Vaelon, who thankfully was not trying to throw himself between them.

Lynette,” Vaelon pleaded.

“Of all the fucking things you could have done,” Lynette said, as Karzarul continued to block her strikes with his arrow, backing away as she advanced. “You made a new one. Another fucking monster, with his face.”

Karzarul hadn’t realized he’d done that. He had hooves again, some kind of a dress but he couldn’t tell what, couldn’t catch his bearings when she wouldn’t stop advancing.

“Do you think that’s going to stop me?” she asked. “Or do you think you’re proving something, making me kill him? Having to see his face, again and again and again, every time I kill one of those fucking things? His face, staring back at me, every fucking time and now you’ve made another one. You, with your castle, with your crown, letting your monsters do as they please. Respecting no laws, no borders, making no treaties. What do you think a king is? Do you think it’s a name you can give yourself, like a toy for you to play with? Do you think it doesn’t matter where your subjects are, where they go? I know no exports from your kingdom but cannon fodder wearing his face.”

“Lynette,” Vaelon said, “what did you do?”

Karzarul was blocking every blow, matching her step for step, and he realized he’d seen this before. He’d watched her strike him down so many times he could catch all her tells, follow all her movements in reverse. He made a sword in his right hand, and used it to try and parry in earnest, to hold his position or drive her back.

“What have you ever done,” she snarled, “except show up where you weren’t invited, and make a nuisance of yourself?”

“I was trying to help,” Karzarul said.

No one asked you,” she said. “I never needed your help, I never wanted your help, if Vaelon hadn’t pitied you I would have killed you from the first and saved us all a lot of trouble.”

“Karzarul,” Vaelon said, “you need to get away from her.” He strummed a few shaky notes.

Lynette laughed bitterly. “We both know you can’t cast for shit when you’re upset,” she said, managing to hit Karzarul in the side. He roared, light and silver leaking from the wound. “Of course you’re upset,” she said. “You might actually have to choose, for once.”

Karzarul bared his teeth and hissed, gave her an opening and let her strike him again so that he could stab his arrow deep into her sword arm. She roared as he pulled away, summoning another arrow to replace the one he left. She didn’t bother taking the arrow out, switched her sword into her other hand. The change took away some of Karzarul’s advantage, unused to seeing her fight with her off-hand. He tried to move faster, felt himself go soft around the edges when he did it. Off-key and intermittent notes came from Vaelon, stopping and starting and unable to string together even a short tune.

If he could disable her other arm, if he could get her to stop, maybe then Vaelon could finally talk her down. Maybe seeing her like this would change something, maybe things would be different, as long as he got her to stop.

Shadows rose quiet from the floor as Vaelon gave up on playing.

Karzarul managed to parry Lynette’s sword downward, aiming his second arrow at her left arm.

Shadows grabbed them both, tried to pull them apart, but inertia was still pushing them forward and unprepared for the interference they fell into each other with legs dragged out from underneath them.

The shadows dissolved as soon as they collapsed. Lynette tried to speak, gurgled blood from the arrow in her throat. Karzarul’s sword and both arrows disappeared all at once as he grabbed at her, tried to stop her falling.

“You—you had the Sunshield,” he said. “You could have blocked me. Why didn’t you block me?”

She grinned, blood on her teeth, as her eyes went unfocused.

Lynette.” Vaelon was on the ground beside them both, pulling her frantically out of Karzarul’s arms. “I can fix it, you need to hold on so I can fix it.” He given up on his instrument, black-eyed as dark threads of magic tried to stitch her carotid back together. The floor was already slippery with blood, soaking through his clothes as he held her face. “Nettles, baby, come on. You can’t do this to me. Don’t do this to me.”

“I didn’t mean to,” Karzarul said. “I only wanted her to stop.”

Vaelon pulled the crown from her head, stroked her hair and held her to his chest and started to rock. The Sunshield on her back burned his arm, and he ignored it. “You could have run,” Vaelon said through tears. “You didn’t have to beat her at her own game. You could have flown.”

Something tight in Karzarul’s chest was making it hard to breathe, clutching at his throat from inside his ribcage. “Why do I always have to run?” he asked before he could stop himself. “Why is it always my fault?”

“It’s not your fault,” Vaelon said, holding her tighter, weeping into her shoulder. The light of the Sunshield had gone out.

“It’s—it will be okay,” Karzarul said. “It won’t be forever, it can’t be forever. Our souls are eternal. Right? She’ll be back. We have to wait until she comes back, is all.”

Vaelon’s tears had turned black, void rising like smoke from the ground all around him. “I can’t do this,” Vaelon said, his voice thick. “I can’t, I told Her I couldn’t do it.”

“Vaelon,” Karzarul said. “Please. She’ll be back, she will. Wait with me. We’ll fix it, we’ll make everything right before she comes back.”

Vaelon’s magic was already spreading through all the grout between the tiles, all the seams in the stone that made the walls, filling the room and smothering the light of the Rainbow Door. Karzarul tried to move and realized he couldn’t, magic the color of void all wrapped around his limbs.

“I can’t,” Vaelon said. “I can’t, I can’t, she had her empire and her consorts and her children and you have your monsters and I had two people, all I asked for was two people and this is what I did with them.”

Karzarul tried to change shape to escape the magic’s hold, but it held on even when he was shapeless between forms, only let him move in fits and starts before dragging him back down. All the tiles started to tear from the floor, the walls shaking. “I’m sorry, Vaelon,” Karzarul said, “I didn’t mean to, I really didn’t, please wait with me until she comes back, please Vaelon.”

Vaelon looked at his hand, and realized he was taking it apart piece by piece. He could see all the bones of his fingers, the latticework of veins. There was an impossibly loud cracking sound as the Rainbow Door shattered, the sound of the wound in the world snapping shut. “Okay,” Vaelon said, sounding calmer. “It’s okay. You’re going to be okay. You be okay, Karzarul.” He set Lynette down in his lap. “I’d tell you to be good, but you’ve always been good.” Vaelon unsheathed the Starsword.

Vaelon,” Karzarul begged, “don’t, please don’t, you can knock the whole mountain down if you have to, I don’t mind, I’ll be okay—”

All the magic and darkness disappeared, and Karzarul screamed.

Nonononono.” Karzarul scrambled to Vaelon’s side. The hilt of the Starsword burned his hand as he pulled it out from under Vaelon’s ribs. “I don’t, I don’t have magic, I can’t fix it.” He pressed his hands over the wound, although he could already tell it wasn’t going to work. “Please don’t die.”

“I’d better,” Vaelon croaked, his witchmarks turning the color of skin. “If I live after that I’ll die of embarrassment, instead.”

Karzarul couldn’t tell if the sound he made was supposed to be laughter. “It’s going to be okay,” he said. “You’re going to come back. You and Lynette, both of you. I’m going to fix everything before you get back. It’ll be different from now on.”

“Love you, Beautiful,” Vaelon sighed, and Karzarul let out a choked sob. He pressed his mouth to Vaelon’s hair.

“You’ll be back,” Karzarul said, all his breathing coming in choked gasps. “I’ll have everything ready before you get back, I’ll get it right this time. I’ll wait, and you’ll come back, and you’ll sing me every new song Mother Void teaches you while you’re gone. You never said you’d stay alive, you only said you’d come back. You’ll be back and we’ll live and we’ll get it right.” He tried to hold Vaelon’s lifeless hand, and realized there was a second star there, one on Vaelon’s left as well as the one that had long been on his right.

There was a small sun on the back of Karzarul’s left hand.

Astielle: Chapter Twenty-One

There were seven little heirs to Lynette’s throne now, for the unlikely occasion that she ever gave it up. Vaelon had been visiting them often, since the oldest was born. Karzarul avoided the Imperial Palace entirely. He made excuses for it, as if he had any reason but paranoia. Lynette looking right through him and seeing that he’d been interfering in her empire, in his own little ways.

They’d never been close, she’d only ever barely tolerated him, but she felt like a true stranger since her ascension. He understood swords, and blood, and protecting Vaelon. Simple quests with simple endings. An empress was a thing all wrapped in intricate rituals, paper and pronouncements and temples and armies, the blade of her sword clean. It was alien to him, too human of a thing.

He’d been a person for longer than most humans he met, now. He didn’t like the reminders of the ways he still fell short.

It was Vaelon who talked him into visiting his niblings—he insisted they were uncles. He smuggled Karzarul in as a Slitherskin, under his sleeve. Some of the Palace staff had never even met a monster, and Vaelon was willing to agree that it would kick up more fuss than was ideal.

They were spotted as soon as they entered the private garden. “Uncle Vaelon!” A little boy tackled his legs at high speed.

“Arik!” Vaelon picked him up , immediately setting him back down. “You got big,” Vaelon complained.

“I eat my vegetables,” Arik confirmed.

“Hullo, Uncle Vaelon,” said a teenager standing in the grass. He was holding a wooden sword.

“Did you bring us anything?” asked the teenage girl also holding a wooden sword.

“I brought someone,” Vaelon said. “Say hello before I look like I’ve lost it,” he said to his arm.

Karzarul shifted, light falling behind Vaelon as he changed into his Bruteling form. He’d added a circlet, though he still kept the hood of his cloak over as much of his head as he could get away with. He wore rings in his ears now, but the only hair he’d managed to make work was a thin strip sticking straight up all down the middle of his scalp. Anything else he’d tried looked like a cheap wig.

He peered out around Vaelon’s legs. “Hello.”

“This is your Uncle Karzarul,” Vaelon introduced. “I’ve told you about him.”

“Hi,” Arik said.

“This is Arik,” Vaelon said, “and that’s Edwin, and that’s Ashel, and over there with the book is Hallie.” Edwin and Ashel had a similar jawline, but otherwise none of them looked much alike. “The others are still in the nursery.”

“You’re the Monster King, right?” Edwin asked, shading his eyes. “Aren’t you an adult?”

“I’m being polite,” Karzarul said. “You don’t want me to be any bigger than this.”

“I’ve heard there are monsters big enough to kill whole armies,” Hallie said.

“Battalions,” Karzarul said modestly.

“In the Righteous Siege,” Hallie continued, “monsters as big as Aekherium emptied the streets so that Mother could walk right up to the throne and take it back from the Usurper.”

“Not that big,” Karzarul said.

“Are there littler monsters?” Arik asked nervously.

Karzarul shifted out from behind Vaelon, small and round and oinking. Arik shrieked with delight, and Karzarul started to run in circles around the garden as Arik chased him.

“Don’t let us interrupt,” Vaelon said to the teenagers. “I wanted him to meet you, that’s all.”

“Oh, sure,” Edwin said, watching his brother chase a pig. “That’s not distracting at all.” Ashel smacked him in the ribs with her wooden sword. “Hey!

“Battles are distracting, dingus,” she snorted. “Deal with it.”

“It’s not like we’re going to need this,” Edwin said, parrying the next blow. “Stop being a suck up.”

“Play nice,” Vaelon warned, sitting in the grass and settling his banjo in his lap.

“Yes, Uncle Vaelon,” the teens sighed in unison.


“Hallie, if you never practice you’re never going to get better,” Edwin said.

“I don’t like sparring with you,” she said, refusing to accept the practice sword. “You’re bigger than me.”

“Everyone’s bigger than you,” Edwin said.

“Uncle Karzarul isn’t,” Arik pointed out.

“I don’t use swords,” Karzarul said. He and Arik had been building a house of cards.

“Never?” Ashel asked.

“I can turn into a bear,” Karzarul said.

“That doesn’t mean you’ll never want to swordfight,” Ashel said.

Karzarul couldn’t argue with that. It was only that there wasn’t anyone who could teach him. Vaelon had pointedly never learned how to use the Starsword for anything but cutting open Doors. Lynette had made it clear over fifty years ago that she didn’t want to teach him. Sailors never saw him with legs. Who did that leave?

“I would rather turn into a bear than swordfight,” Hallie said.

“You should still know how,” Ashel said. “What if, someday, you need to have a really epic battle with someone? A tense, dramatic fight in the rain where you cut each other’s clothes off.”

Vaelon stopped playing his banjo. “When did you read Lovers of the Wild Rose?” he asked. Ashel turned pink. “That’s very mature material,” he said, resuming his strumming.

“I’m mature,” Ashel insisted, scratching her nose.

“Here,” Edwin said, handing Karzarul the wooden sword. “As long as you know the basics, that should be good enough for Hallie to practice. She needs to get her confidence up, that’s all.”

Karzarul tried to mimic what he remembered from watching Lynette. It had been a long time, but he’d seen her wield her sword up-close and often. This wasn’t even the first time he’d tried to mimic her, though he’d been alone in the woods then, swishing a stick around while Vaelon was busy.

Hallie wasn’t enthusiastic about any of this. She flicked her practice sword at Karzarul, slow and floppy. He didn’t even have to parry, because she was trying to hit his sword.

“You could at least pretend to try,” Ashel said. “Uncle Karzarul is never going to get better, if that’s all you can do. He’s even got his feet right and you don’t, that’s embarrassing.”

“Mom probably taught him,” Hallie complained.

“I assure you I did not,” Lynette said.

Karzarul froze, lowering the wooden sword immediately. The children all stood at attention. Vaelon kept playing.

Lynette had taken to wearing a cloud-blue dress that went from around her neck down to her hips, leaving her arms and her back both bare. The skirt of it fell in panels to the floor, slits on the sides revealing the musculature of her thighs. Her boots were copper plate armor to her knees, matching the wide torque necklace and the rings that tipped her fingers like claws. Her crown was a copper headband radiating long spikes from her hair, which was as short as it had always been. The Sunshield was on her back, looking like a part of her.

“Hello, Mother,” Edwin said.

“Hello, babies,” Lynette said, tousling his hair. “Listening to Uncle Vaelon?”

“Yes, Mom,” Ashel said.

“You shouldn’t,” Lynette said. “He’s full of shit.” Vaelon laughed. She stepped further into the garden. “I see you’re entertaining foreign heads of state.”

“It’s just Uncle Karzarul,” Arik said.

Lynette knelt down in the garden to be closer to Bruteling height. She was still much bigger than he was. “Hello, Karzarul.”

“Hello, Ly—Your Imperial Majesty.”

“Haven’t seen you in a while.” Decades. “Have you been fighting my children?”

Karzarul looked at the wooden sword. “Hallie needed someone to practice hitting.”

“Hmm.” She looked him over. “I never would have thought I would end up finding this one the least objectionable.” Karzarul rubbed the pads of his feet in the grass. “How fares your kingdom?” she asked with a tilt of her head. He didn’t like how closely she was looking at him.

“It’s only the one mountain,” he said.

“Oh?” she asked, raising an eyebrow. “I thought you were King of the Monsters.” She propped her chin on her hand. “Wouldn’t that include all monsters, everywhere?”

He fidgeted with the wooden sword. “Not really,” he said.

“I wonder what the Monster King does, then.”

“I’m the one the monsters point to,” Karzarul said, “when they do something stupid and someone wants to know who to yell at about it.”

Lynette faltered. “That… is how it goes, isn’t it.” Karzarul nodded. “You don’t have any kind of a connection, then?” she asked, tapping her head.

“Not really.” Only when he was nearby. That barely counted.

“Don’t know what they get up to when you’re not there?”

“Did Black Drakonis try to take one of your fortresses again?” he asked.

“No.”

“Stop pestering him, Nettles,” Vaelon said. He hadn’t stopped playing. “He doesn’t expect you to account for every farmer.”

“He could,” she said, standing. “I keep track.”

“You shouldn’t,” Vaelon said. “That’s bonkers.”

“Agree to disagree.”

“Mom,” Arik asked hopefully, “can Uncle Vaelon do a real spell for us, since you’re here?”

“Not in the Palace,” Lynette apologized. “When you’re older, you can visit him someplace safe, okay?”

“I think it would be fine,” Karzarul said, “if he used a selling song.”

Lynette paused. “Oh?”

“Karzarul figured it out,” Vaelon said, playing a scale. “I don’t like having to quit before a song’s over. But some of those songs street vendors use are catchy little things. Work well in a pinch when I need something quick that won’t let me go overboard.”

“I see,” Lynette said carefully. “If you think there’s no harm in trying, then.”

Vaelon looked around the garden for something appropriate to magic at. Then he played a quick riff, and put a little too much black-eyed gusto into two pun-filled sentences about bread. A small round flowerbush emitted wisps of void as it reshaped itself to have porcine features.

Arik clapped gleefully as Vaelon pressed the flat of his hand against the banjo strings. “Not bad,” Vaelon said.

“Clever,” Lynette said. “A little beneath your talent, I would think.”

“I try to avoid having anything beneath my talent,” Vaelon said, and Lynette rolled her eyes.


“Another satisfied customer,” Vaelon said cheerfully. It was Karzarul who’d noticed the little cabin in the valley, the woman trying to gather her escaped quail before they got hurt. They weren’t able to do much for the three birds who’d jumped straight at a donkey’s hooves, but they’d done what they could.

“You don’t charge,” Karzarul reminded him, trotting alongside him down the path as a Howler. He was still discomfited by the quail who’d jumped directly into his mouth and, upon being spit out, died instantly from shock.

“Brownies count as payment,” Vaelon said, licking his fingers.

“You promised you’d pay your tab at the Rusty Spoon next time you went,” Karzarul said.

“There is no promise but oblivion,” Vaelon said loftily.

“I don’t think Karl is going to like that explanation.”

“Karl also doesn’t like it when I try to figure out how many times I can play The Dancer’s Lament before someone notices, I’m not going to let that stop me.”

Karzarul was about to say something else, but a comet of moonlight struck him in the back with enough force that he collapsed. He was an Abysscale named Glimmering, the ocean was frothing and red with blood, he’d already lost an arm when the sword slid through his ribs.

Lynette, using the Sunshield and the barrier it generated like her own personal boat. Armored boots and armored pauldrons and a white silk dress like a dare, but nothing had touched her except saltwater and other people’s blood. There was a wild look in her eyes, but her crown wasn’t even askew.

He was an Abysscale named Karzarul with his hands in the dirt and his tail in the grass and Vaelon was there and he could still taste blood.

He was an Abysscale named Coruscating and Lynette’s sword was cutting through the middle of him, nearly to his spine, all his insides tumbling into the water.

“Hey,” Vaelon asked, kneeling with hands on Karzarul’s shoulders. “What’s happening?”

He was an Abysscale named Resplendent and he’d tried to dive but Lynette had stabbed straight through his tail, dragged him back up before running him through.

Karzarul curled into a ball, wrapped his arms over his head and his tail around his body even though it wouldn’t help.

He was an Abysscale named Luminous and they’d caught him in a net, he was an Abysscale named Dappled in the same net, her sword ran through them both and they watched each other die.

Karzarul was sobbing and heaving and Vaelon didn’t know what to do. He’d grown accustomed to ignoring it, those little balls of moonlight. Borrowed power returning, or something like it. Karzarul was evasive, and Vaelon never wanted to push. Everyone was entitled to some privacy, things they didn’t need to share. Karzarul hadn’t taken much notice of them since the early years, and Vaelon had followed suit. Vaelon tried to rub Karzarul’s back, but he didn’t respond. If he were human, there were spells he could try, magic to stitch things together or cut away what didn’t belong. Karzarul’s injuries had only ever bled silver, never revealed anything inside him but white light in those brief glimpses before he changed forms.

Nothing like this had ever happened before, and that was terrifying to him when they’d lived so long now. Vaelon felt a touch of panic at the thought that this might be related to their blessings, that it might be catching up to him.

That it might take Karzarul away from him.

He didn’t even remember when it had happened, when Karzarul had become the second person he couldn’t bear to live without. There was a time when he could have accepted it, a monster returning to the moonlight from whence he’d come. It would have saddened him, but it wouldn’t have ended him.

“It’s going to be okay,” Vaelon said, assured of no such thing. He stood and drew the Starsword, and focused not on a specific place, but an idea. Somewhere Karzarul might be safe, somewhere with water enough that he wouldn’t be an Abysscale writhing in the dirt. He focused on infinity, on how small the world was that sat in it, how little difference there was in the grand scheme of things between one place and another on the same speck of rock. He listened to the stars sing, tilted the sword until it found the right wavelength. Then he sliced through the air, and sheathed it again.

There was still the problem of Karzarul, curled up on the ground. He could lift him with magic, but he didn’t know if magic alone could carry him through. He tried to channel through his banjo without playing it, started to sing and stopped. He couldn’t bring himself to sing a hymn to beauty, so he sang one for pain instead. Void wrapped around his body, around his arms, enough to let him pick Karzarul up off the ground.

Those comets of moonlight were slowing, but they hadn’t stopped.

Vaelon carried Karzarul through the hole he’d cut in the world, and his breath caught when he realized they were back at Mirror Lake. There was no reflection in the water.

“Hey, Beautiful,” Vaelon said, trying to descend to the water’s edge. Magic eased his steps, but without a song to give his intent shape it expanded further than necessary, great trailing tendrils of darkness. “We’re home.” He knelt at the water’s edge, lowering Karzarul into it. “I really hope this helps,” Vaelon said, well aware there was no reason why it should. Only that this was home, this was where Karzarul had listened to him sing and decided it would be better to be a person than a thing.

Vaelon might have corrected him, if he’d known, but far too late for that now.

Karzarul let himself sink, and Vaelon watched with no small amount of trepidation the round white shape under the water. Moonlight struck a few more times, but finally seemed to stop. Vaelon reigned his magic in despite its desire to stretch out and worm its way into everything.

“Mother Void,” he said, “please ask Your daughter what the fuck She thinks She’s doing. Mother Void, please let him be okay. Let this be nothing, give me time to make it right.”

Vaelon had never forgotten it, what the Fairy King had said about immortality. He’d clung to it, a hopeful thought when his own life felt too big for him. Yet he’d never applied the idea to Karzarul. Karzarul was moonlight, Karzarul could be anything; aging and dying weren’t meant to apply. He was supposed to have all the time in the world, it was supposed to be Vaelon who had limits.

It was a long time before Karzarul came back up out of the water.

“What happened?” Vaelon asked. His feet were dangling in the water, sitting as far along the edge as he could without falling in. “Are you okay?”

“Sorry,” Karzarul said. He had been able to change and reform, and hoped that meant he looked better. “It’s… monster stuff.”

What could he say? How could he explain, when he’d gone so long without explaining? If he’d explained before, things might have been different. If Lynette had known, she surely wouldn’t have done it. Though it was hard to imagine her as merciful, after dying again and again and again at her hands. He could still feel the echoes of it, shaking under his skin. He had to tell himself that she wouldn’t have done it if she’d known. Wouldn’t have let him see her face, at least, and what a mercy that would have been. And what would it accomplish now, to tell Vaelon? He didn’t want Vaelon upset with Lynette, when he knew what they were to each other. He didn’t want Vaelon to not be upset, either.

He couldn’t think of anything Vaelon could say, or do, that could make any of it better.

“Talk to me,” Vaelon said. “That was awful, I need to know if that’s going to happen again. I want to know what it means.”

Karzarul tried to think of a way to explain, a way that wouldn’t make him want to scream. He moved closer, pressed his forehead against Vaelon’s knee. “Please don’t make me explain,” he said finally. “Can we think of it like a bodily function?” he asked. “A thing that happens, that I… I don’t like it and I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Hey,” Vaelon said, reaching down to touch Karzarul’s face and tilt it towards him. “You scared me,” Vaelon said. “What would I do if I lost you?”

Karzarul pressed his hand over Vaelon’s, claws and scales and heavy fingers. “It wasn’t like that,” Karzarul said. “It can’t kill me, not ever. I’ll follow you forever, if you’ll let me. If I’m not—if you don’t mind. A monster.”

Vaelon looked at him for a long time. Then he bent forward, cupped Karzarul’s face in his hands, and pressed a soft kiss to his mouth. Karzarul froze, eyes wide, staring at Vaelon.

“You…” He swallowed. “I didn’t think you did that.”

“Sometimes,” Vaelon said, stroking Karzarul’s hair. “For the right people. You looked like you needed it.”

Karzarul pulled himself a little further out of the water, so he could wrap his arms around Vaelon and rest his head against the spot where Vaelon’s stomach started to curve outward. Karzarul’s pulse was racing, a tightness in his throat. “You would do that for me?”

“I would do a lot of things for you,” Vaelon said, and Karzarul shivered. “I don’t dislike it, you know,” he added. “Not all of it. If you want something, you can ask me. I never told you that, I thought someday you’d stop being patient and ask on your own, but you never asked. I want to make sure you know that you can. Okay? You have to tell me what you want.”

Karzarul was feeling a lot of things that wanted to come out through his eyes. He nuzzled at Vaelon’s sternum. “I want you,” he said, his voice rough. “Whatever you’ll give me, whatever will let me stay with you forever.”

“That’s a long time,” Vaelon said. “Not aging doesn’t mean that I’m immortal,” he reminded him.

“We’re eternal,” Karzarul said. “I want eternity.”

Vaelon rubbed his fingers along the back of Karzarul’s neck. “I can’t promise you that,” he said gently. “Eternity is big. I like being small. I’ll always give you as much as I can. I won’t give you more. You can’t hurt me by asking.”

Karzarul took deep breaths, wanted to bury his face in the smell of Vaelon’s clothes. “I never want anything to hurt you,” Karzarul said.

“I know,” Vaelon said. “If anyone ever hurt you and lived, I’d make them regret it.”

It was a relief to hear it said, to believe it. To know for certain that it was a kindness Karzarul was doing, keeping Lynette’s secret. He could carry the weight of it if he knew the alternative was giving it to Vaelon.

Karzarul let Vaelon go, sliding slowly back into the water. His chin rested on Vaelon’s knee. “If I wanted…”

“Yes?” Vaelon coaxed.

“Can I hold you?” Karzarul asked.

“We can do that,” Vaelon said. Karzarul pulled himself up out of the water beside Vaelon, his tail trailing down behind him, dripping onto stone. He turned so that they were sitting side-by-side, Karzarul shifting until he found a comfortable resting position. Vaelon set his banjo and the Starsword aside, lying alongside each other. “Where do you want me?” Vaelon asked, and Karzarul started to glow, claws scratching stone as his fingers curled.

“Uh.” Karzarul swallowed. He shifted again, the way a snake shifted to bury itself in desert sand, curling his tail into a loop in front of him. “You could sit here?” he suggested, strained.

“I feel like that isn’t the first thing you thought of,” Vaelon said, climbing over Karzarul’s tail to settle into the middle of it. They adjusted around each other until they were a little bit sideways, Vaelon’s legs draped underneath Karzarul’s right arm and Karzarul’s tail supporting his lower back. Vaelon wrapped his arms around Karzarul’s shoulders. “Like this?” he asked.

“Yeah,” Karzarul said with a shudder. He buried his face in the crook of Vaelon’s shoulder, hands pressed into his back. “I—I love you, you know.”

“I know,” Vaelon said, stroking Karzarul’s hair. “I love you, too.” It felt stupid that he hadn’t said it before. Ingrained in him to be cautious with his words, not say anything that might be misconstrued as a promise he couldn’t keep.

“The way you loved me before?” Karzarul asked. “Before I was a person?”

“No,” Vaelon said, kissing his temple. “I love the person that you are. I love the person who always does his best, and always surprises me. Beautiful Karzarul.”

Karzarul let out a shaky breath, shifting to hold Vaelon one-handed. “You think I’m beautiful?”

“Always,” Vaelon said. “You’re an artist and a work of art. You’re a miracle.”

“I ruin everything,” Karzarul said, muffled by Vaelon’s shoulder.

“You make something new,” Vaelon said, stroking Karzarul’s hair more firmly. “I love the things you do. You’ve made me better.” Karzarul shook his head. “You have. You’re the one who always wants to help. I didn’t used to, not until I saw how much it bothered you. Not helping. You’ve made this time mean something. I wouldn’t have been able to stand it, living this long. Not without you.” Vaelon urged Karzarul to lift his head. Karzarul blinked furiously, trying to chase away the silver pooling on his lower lashes. “Let me do something to make you happy,” Vaelon said, “the way you make me happy.”

“You are,” Karzarul said. “You’re here.”

“Is that really all you want?” Vaelon pressed.

Karzarul got that sheepish glow about him again. “I’m. Uh. You’re here, but you’re also. I’m also. Um.”

Vaelon’s eyes lowered for the first time to the movement of Karzarul’s left shoulder. “Oh! You’re—shit. Can you reach? I didn’t even notice.”

“Sorry,” Karzarul said. “I wanted—I wanted something to feel good again and you said—”

“No, you’re okay,” Vaelon assured him. “You don’t have to justify yourself.” Vaelon started to move, but Karzarul touched his forehead with his before he could.

“Don’t look,” Karzarul asked. “It’s a lot, even people who like it think it’s a lot.”

Vaelon didn’t need much convincing on that front. “Do you want me to help?”

“You’re here,” Karzarul said again. “That’s what I want.” Vaelon leaned back and ran a fingertip underneath Karzarul’s eye, catching a silver teardrop. “Ignore that, I don’t know why that’s happening,” Karzarul said. “That doesn’t usually happen.”

Vaelon smiled. “I meant it,” he said. “Ask for what you want. Let me decide if I can’t.”

“I know,” Karzarul said. “I can’t do more. Not yet. It’s… too soon.”

“Seventy years is soon, for you?”

“It’s a long time,” Karzarul said. “It’s my whole life, that I thought—that I—if I turned into a dog, you’d pet me.”

Vaelon touched his cheek. “Oh, honey.”

“I wasn’t trying to trick you,” Karzarul added. “I like it when you touch me. When we travel and, and you sit with your back against mine so you can play. Or when I’m on your arm in public, and… is that creepy? Now that I’m saying it out loud it seems creepy.”

“It’s not creepy,” Vaelon said.

“I want to be close to you,” Karzarul said. “That’s all.”

“I like that,” Vaelon said, leaning forward to rest against Karzarul’s chest. “I like being with you.”

Karzarul held him tighter with the arm around his back. “Say it again?”

“I like you,” Vaelon said. “I like being loved by you. I like this.”

Karzarul pressed a sudden, hard kiss to Vaelon’s lips, his whole body tense. Vaelon didn’t resist. Then Karzarul relaxed, pressing his forehead to Vaelon’s.

“That was good?” Vaelon asked. Karzarul nodded. “Are you happy?”

“I’m happy,” Karzarul said, holding Vaelon with both arms and burying his face in his shoulder again. “Even without this. You make me happy to be a person. To be alive.”

“It’s the least I can do,” Vaelon said, patting his hair, “considering I’m the asshole who gave you the idea.”

“It was a good idea,” Karzarul said. “I used to dream of you, before I was anything.”

Vaelon hummed. “I never used to have dreams,” he said, contemplative. “Never saw the point, I guess. Not until She showed me.”

They never talked about it, what they’d seen or what they’d wished for. It felt too personal, too private, for all that they’d been together at the time. They could guess around the edges, see the consequences, but to ask outright felt like asking to see their beating heart. Wasn’t it enough to know that it was there?

“Mother Void showed me every star,” Vaelon sighed. “Every one of them a dream, every one of them dead. More stars in infinity than drops of water in the ocean, and all of them dwarfed by nothing. Insignificant and bright. I didn’t even notice them, in all the vastness of Her. It was only later that I realized what She’d given me, some small share of the burden She carries.”

“I can’t tell if that’s good or bad,” Karzarul admitted. He had that problem almost every time Vaelon preached the gospel of the Void.

“It’s good,” Vaelon sighed. “Just heavy. That’s all.”

“I can carry you,” Karzarul said, raising his head. He shifted forms, raised Vaelon higher into his arms as he became a Tauril.

“I know,” Vaelon said, leaning into Karzarul’s chest. “It helps.” He ran his fingers over the embroidery in Karzarul’s tunic. “You don’t have to keep using this”

“A shirt?”

“This pattern,” Vaelon said. “I didn’t do a good job of it.”

“I like it,” Karzarul said. “You made it for me.”

“I should have planned it out better,” Vaelon said. “In my head it looked less like a weird bug.”

“You love weird bugs,” Karzarul reminded him.

“I do love weird bugs,” Vaelon agreed.

“You made the phases of the moon look like a cool bug,” Karzarul said. “That makes it perfect.”

“You’re starting to sound like me,” Vaelon warned.

“Good,” Karzarul said, bending down to press his forehead against Vaelon’s. “Sing for me?”

Vaelon smiled faintly, and sang a hymn for dropped stitches.