Lindsay awoke early the next morning. She nudged Sirix aside.
"Yes?" he asked, looking at her through bleary eyes.
"Let me up, I want to go for a jog."
He gave her a quick kiss and rolled onto his side to let her up, then flopped back down again. She picked up her shorts from the floor and scowled. They were covered in crusty sangria colored blood. All of her clothes were.
She peeked out the door, there was Donil in front of what looked like a wall of boards. "Donil," she hissed. "Donil."
"Lindsay? You're up early."
"I wanted to go for a run. Do you have any spare clothes?"
"Of course, give me a minute." Donil hurried off.
Lindsay sighed, she tried to run her fingers through her hair but they stuck less than an inch in. She took a look in the mirror. Dried Nobillo blood matted her hair and clung to her face. "Gross," she said, making a face.
That Sirix could want to have sex with her when she looked like this... She'd never been so tempted to just walk to the shower naked, like Nol would do. By the time she used the toilet, which was, at least, not as foul as she remembered it owing to the new plumbing, Donil was knocking lightly at the door.
"I found something." Donil stuck a stack of clothes through the door, being careful not to look in.
Lindsay took them. A tank top like shirt and what looked like children's pants. She could work with that. She pulled on the tank top, it hung loosely from her breasts, billowing out around her waist. Pulling on the pants, she found they only went to her knees and were tight around her rear, hanging low on her hips not by design but by necessity.
She sighed. Oh well, not much she could do about it right now. It wasn't like she really needed to have much range of motion.
Stepping out into the cool fog of the morning, she began to jog toward the trees. She felt the icy breeze on her shoulder as she passed. She glanced at it. The blue skin seemed to be merging to her regular flesh nicely, there was only an indent of a line where the graft had been put in.
She ducked behind some trees into a small clearing. Sirix said that the princes could control her mind if they caught her, but that wingless mutant, Carak, wasn't a prince...
She focused on Carak. In her mind's eye, she saw that powerful back with giant crisscrossing scars and boney stumps where wings had been. She looked at the stone and suddenly she was back in his room. He was standing at the console, taloned fingers running across the screen. She quietly stole next to him - not that she needed to worry about sound, being less tangible than air now - and peered around him.
The screen displayed a map of the forest as seen from above. On it were large triangles made up of smaller ones clustered around one familiar spot. That was where Corlan's camp had been. She shuddered at the memory.
She watched as his finger ran across the screen, the triangles gathered and shifted, some of the little ones vanished. It looked like a replay of the massacre. Then the triangles broke apart, traveling in different units down toward Nobillo territory. Suddenly, one group disappeared not long after it left Corlan's camp.
There was the sound of chimes. Lindsay ducked behind the desk despite it being completely unnecessary. "Come in," Carak said. His voice gruff, as though it hadn't been used in a while.
A large Nobillo mutant with four wings stalked in. "You summoned me?"
"Yes, Commander Julanty, has there been any word of Phalanx Six?"
"Nothing, my Hest."
Carak exhaled deeply. "Even if they'd found another camp, they'd be back by now. Do we know which by way they were going?"
"Grix said they were going by way of the Southeastern Forest."
"There shouldn't be any encampments in the Southeastern Forest. Unless..."
"My Hest, what are you thinking?"
Carak hit a button on the computer. "I need you, immediately."
"I'll be right there," a voice said.
"Julanty, I need a team of scouts: Ruu, Loran, Nexer. You are dismissed."
"Yes, my Hest." The creature knelt slightly.
As the door opened to let the mutant out, a man slipped in. It was Prince Rivuk!
She should go. But he'd mentioned the Southern Forest, where their camp was. She had to know more. If her people were in danger... He strode over to Carak, showing not the slightest sign of noticing her at all.
She could go if he saw her. Yes, that's what she'd do. She'd never pulled herself out of a vision before, but she was sure she could do it if push came to shove. And the threat of having her mind invaded seemed like a pretty big push. She crouched down lower, peering at the pair from below as best she could.
The prince offered Carak his hand, which the mutant pressed to his brow. Rivuk took the monster's head and pulled it down so that their brows touched.
Carak shrunk back, a something like fear in his wide eyes. "I do not deserve the honor, you Grace."
"But you will accept it. Now tell me, why have you asked me here?"
Carak's taloned hands slid over the screen. "This is the last known location of Phalanx Six."
"You think they're lost as well?"
"Yes, your Grace. My sources say they were coming home by way of the Southeastern woods." He pulled the map upwards so it now sat, in semi-transparent reds and whites, above the screen. His hands flashed through it, pulling up another map to the left of it. And, as you can see here, the route of our other lost phalanx, the one that was supposed to attack the encampment-"
"Runs over the Southeastern woods, as well. You think there may be a camp there?"
"I was getting to that, your Grace." He combined the maps so one sat just above the other. He drew a white line on each, then spread his fingers, expanding a red pool around it. "These are their projected paths. The red represents possible deviation. You can see where they cross."
"Yes."
"Now let's add another map. This was the believed location of a Bonat encampment we razed over an iuna ago." From below, Lindsay could see they crossed.
"They haven't moved!"
"No. I considered they might have been too badly harmed in the raid to move far, but then, the chances of them being able to take out our forces in that condition are negligible."
The prince's fingers danced across the screen as shapes and locations moved. "Something must have changed."
"I'm sending three of our best scouts now to confirm."
"Good, but don't tell the other princes yet. There's still more information I'd like to gather first. They'll want to send in the whole of our forces. It could be a bloodbath. I'm not willing to send the Children of the Immortal to their deaths."
"Thank you, your Grace."
The prince, again, pressed his forehead to Carak's, locking his copper eyes with the mutant. "Tell no one."
"Of course, your Grace."
Leave. Lindsay thought to herself. Time to leave. She had to tell Nol. Not Sirix. He'd be upset she'd used her power, especially since it put her so close to a Nobillo prince.
But she didn't move. Instead, it was Rivuk who turned and strode from the room. The heavy door slammed behind him.
She watched Carak limp across the room to the window where he stood watching a formation of winged soldiers fly. "Thank you, your Grace," he whispered.
He took a spear that sat beside the window. The head was broken, it reminded her of the chips she'd watched Donil take out of Sirix. He spun the spear hand over hand. It looked at home there. He struck, parried, struck again, a thrust. "Argh!"
His bad leg faltered, he managed to keep from falling. Supporting his weight with the staff, he limped over to the wall and replaced the spear, then he fell into a nearby short-backed chair and sighed.
He took a candle and lit it, muttering words with no meaning. Then she caught something said so softly it could have been whispered by the breeze. "To The Immortal, take these, your children, and hold them close. Give them the love and freedom they never knew in life." He blew the candle out.
It was a prayer! Those words weren't gibberish, they were names! Probably the names of those from Phalanx Six...
Lindsay felt that same conflict growing within her. He was a person; he was clearly a person. A broken man still fighting a war for those who created him. Or was it for them at all? Was it just for the prince?
There was something between them for sure. Not lovers. She knew those glances far too well. But something more than prince and general or master and servant. But he took the prince's orders to not tell the others, that forehead touch seemed to matter a great deal to him...
She wished she could ask him. Console him. He looked so alone in this giant room! She stepped forward, wanting to put a hand on his shoulder.
He turned slightly and she saw the gigantic eyes with their puffy, improperly formed eyelids, the lipless mouth with its needle-like teeth. The nose, well, lack of a nose. Had he been a baby eater before his wings were cut off? Would he have pulled off an old man's armor and bitten the egg sack right out of him? Probably.
But that didn't make what she felt any better. What did that mean? If he was, then couldn't any of them be a thinking, feeling, sympathetic man under that monster skin?
She didn't want to see anymore. She hated standing there, covered in the dried blood of the people he cared for. The mutants whose names he knew by heart, whose names hadn't mattered in the slightest to her when she'd killed them.
She needed a shower.
And she was back in the clearing again.
It felt good to get the dried blood out of her hair. By the time she'd toweled herself off, some of her sympathy had abated. She found Nol and informed her to be on the watch for scouts. Nol didn't ask questions, just said she'd take the first patrol herself. Three scouts? The Bonat forces could handle that. Now Lindsay was going to sit on Sirix's face as a reward for her successful reconnaissance mission and then they would go.
----------------------------------
"Oh! Oh Sirix!" she moaned. "Oh! Don't stop! It feels so good!"
Her body swayed back and forth above him, his hands holding her thighs steady as he nibbled on her labia. Then his tongue burst through, licking a path from her vagina to her clit. She leaned heavily on his chest, giving him a better angle. She howled as his tongue attacked her. Yes! This was what she needed. More of him.
He pushed her forward. "Would you like me to use the rod?"
Bad for the legs, the advice echoed in her head. Screw the legs! She had to feel more! "Yes!"
She was on her back in a moment. Penetration. Thrusting. "Deeper."
"Are you sure?"
"Yes!"
It hurt. The bruises hadn't healed in a day. He'd known. But she didn't care. She couldn't care. It was such exquisite pain. It took her mind from the stone, from the monster and his candle. The only thing she could see was Sirix smiling above her, enjoyment shining in his eyes as she came for him. She moaned as he pulled out, her body spreading out beneath him as the muscles released. His hand caressed her cheek, brushing her hair from it.
