CHAPTER NINE
CAMBION
Mortal Plane
Morning comes, even though the cloud cover is thick and bathes our surroundings in shades of gray. It’s a good omen—it means Baron will be able to travel more easily. Perhaps he won’t have to rely on his potions to protect him against the sun.
I’m in especially good spirits this morning, as I feel very well-rested. It was a good decision on my part to pause for the night and allow the group to rest. Dragan would have pushed us until we had no energy left. All that would have done is considerably slow us down today. Yes, it’s a good thing for all involved that I’ve taken the proverbial reins.
We pack what little we possess and start through the forest yet again, walking along the stream that will eventually guide us to the road.
I notice my companions are especially quiet this morning. Baron is almost reliably silent in general, but Dragan also seems lost in his own thoughts, as does the demoness. Even Flumph is uncharacteristically quiet, where he rides on the girl’s shoulder, glaring at me every opportunity he gets.
Fucking thing.
I look forward to leaving him and the witch behind us, and I’m hopeful that opportunity will present itself once we reach Earleann. As far as I’m concerned, if we leave the Succubus in Earleann and Variant comes looking for her, maybe he’ll take her as reward enough and allow Dragan and I to return to our respective realms.
If only.
Or perhaps Raflamir will choose to imprison the demoness? Demons are not welcomed in the Fae Realm and perhaps imprisonment is exactly what she needs. As a Succubus, she’s unpredictable at best—at worst, she could be deadly.
As I think, I find my gaze settling on the Succubus without my even realizing it. She’s absolutely stunning, it’s true. I can’t argue that fact, even if she is the embodiment of all things unholy. Demons are the lowliest of shadow creatures, but a Succubus? They’re the vilest of the vile.
And yet, she’s more lovely than any woman I’ve ever seen, I counter in my head. And her nature appears to be gentle.
It’s all artifice! Simply her shadow magic attempting to pollute your mind, I assure myself. Apparently, my other self finds this to be a good argument, as that nagging voice remains silent for once.
Still, I continue to ponder her—continue to watch her. I have to admit, I desire her. I do. And, of course, I wonder what it would feel like to fuck a Succubus. Perhaps I will get my chance before I leave her in Earleann.
After all, there is that vision she experienced . It was a vision of the two of us deeply involved in a sexual tryst, and to say I had enjoyed myself is an understatement. Yes, I do want her and, yes, I intend to have her, but merely once and merely for the novelty of fucking a Succubus.
It’s interesting, but I’ve not felt this sort of hunger for a female from the Shadow Realm before. Truthfully, I can’t recall the last time I’ve felt this sort of hunger for any woman. Lamia, of course, was highly attractive but she didn’t weigh on my thoughts the way this demoness does. Perhaps it’s due to the fact that Eilish is half angel, which makes her more attractive to me than she otherwise would be? Or perhaps it’s simply because she’s more attractive physically than Lamia?
I shrug as I consider the question. Regardless, I will have my way with her, and then I’ll be done with her. It will be simple to walk away, as I don’t believe she’s the answer to anything, though perhaps Dragan still clutches that ideal.
To me, she’s nothing.
***
It’s perhaps another two hours before we reach the road. In that time, the only one to speak has been Flumph and I would prefer to avoid his conversation—it’s inane, at best.
I find myself growing curious as to why Dragan is so introspective. He’s more brooding than usual. I decide he’s simply eating crow regarding the fact that I am now in charge of our band and my leadership is quite superior to his. I imagine this is not an easy detail to digest.
“I hear something,” he finally says.
I pique my ears and, sure enough, the sound of a sputtering engine can be heard perhaps a mile down the road. This time, I don’t believe it’s wise to stand our ground.
“We must get off the road,” I tell the group.
As I am the one holding the rope that binds the demoness’ hands, I lead her toward the cover of trees. Keeping my grip firm, lest she attempt to flee, I cloak the two of us (er, three of us, since Flumph is riding on her shoulder) with an illusionment charm that will block us from view. Baron and Dragan do the same.
We’re perhaps twenty feet from the road, watching in nervous anticipation as the sound of the vehicle’s engine grows louder. Without incident, a red truck trundles by, its wheels bouncing merrily on the thick, uneven gravel.
I have yet to understand how these motorized carriages work but it’s a subject better left for another day, when I’m not wanted by the false king.
I let out a sigh of relief before I release my hold on the ropes and remove the protective layer of invisibility I’d magicked for us. Then I wave everyone onward.
It’s night by the time we reach the river.
For a moment, I’m awed by its beauty. Riverine lines the water on either bank, making it appear crystal clear. The water moves quickly, slicing through the land as it meanders out and around the road before disappearing into the tree line of the forest.
Overhead, the moon is full, lighting our way in milky shades of blue. Nearly everything exists in a monochromatic blue-gray hue.
The cover of darkness will be ideal for our entry into Earlann. Even so, we’ll need to find a way to attract the attention of Raflamir and Raflamir alone. It will be well understood in all realms that Variant is hunting us, and we are to be considered enemies to the crown.
The confidence I portrayed regarding Raflamir’s loyalty may have been slightly exaggerated, as I have not seen nor heard from him in a very long time, but I’m certain he won’t betray us. Raflamir was always a man of high moral character. Even though we haven’t spoken since the war, I have no reason to believe my friend won’t come to our aid. His allegiance to the new order has been fickle over the years, usually in response to whether or not he holds Variant’s favor. And rumor of late is that he’s lost Variant’s favor.
Though I was never able to leave Geldingstock, owing to my banishment, news was still able to reach me. It is true that nothing travels faster than gossip.
I can only hope my request for food and shelter will fall upon favorable ears, and I believe it will. Elves are creatures of community and family. We pride ourselves on our loyalty to our own kind, and our honesty and magnanimity to those we consider comrades. It’s this sense of noble honor that I shall appeal to, where Raflamir is concerned.
Furthermore, we place the utmost importance on the balance of the natural world. In this way, no elf would ever choose to accept the false king, for he exists solely for himself and has already and will assuredly continue to uproot the balance of all things natural.
I am positive Raflamir will be true to his race, and will proudly and graciously open his arms and his home in support of what is noble and what is right.
Cutting through the underbrush, I make my way swiftly towards the entrance of Earlann. The scent of lilac and magnolia clings to the light breeze that rustles the nearby foliage. It’s sweet and syrupy, mingling with the collective odors that hover around my travel companions and me.
Flumph flutters beside my head as I crouch low to the ground and pluck one of the glistening Riverine rocks from the flowing stream. I hand it to the insufferable little creature and point to a shard of stone that juts out from the outcrop of the rockface. “Hold it up to catch a beam of moonlight. Don’t lower your arm until I signal you to do so.”
The sprite’s little wings flap wildly as he struggles under the weight of the stone. “Oh, sure, make me do all the heavy liftin’. Ain’t like I gots anythin’ better ta do.” He flies toward the shard of stone even as he complains tirelessly, his squeaky little voice fading away with each flap of his wings.
Dragan eyes me from where he lurks in the shadows, reluctantly holding the demoness’ rope. “Are we here?” he asks.
“We’ve reached the gateway to Earleann, yes,” I answer.
He shakes his head. “I still think this is a terrible idea. It’s best that no one know our situation or our whereabouts.”
“You are allowed your own opinion,” I respond archly as I make my way over to them, chewing the inside of my cheek to keep the sharp comments that hover on my tongue at bay. But, only for now. The gargoyle crosses his massive arms over his chest, and cocks an arrogant brow.
“What’s the plan?” he grumbles.
“We need to catch Raflamir’s attention without signaling any sentries.”
“And, how do you propose we do that?” Dragan rolls his eyes.
“Flumph will reveal the entrance to Earlann. The gateway is somewhere along the river. Find the gate, and we find Raflamir.”
The feral curse that drifts from Dragan’s lips causes a smile to appear on my face. I love being the one to call the shots. If the shadow-dweller had his way, the entire mission would be one big ‘fuck you’ to Variant, and we’d most likely storm the palace and die trying to exact our revenge. Dragan’s heavy-handed ways would almost certainly get us killed. This mission takes stealth and precision, something of which the hamfisted oaf isn’t capable, even with his magic.
“Just take the left and cover my advances,” I say before glancing back at the vampire. “Baron still isn’t in any shape to fight. I’ll have him watch the demon.”
The Succubus shifts her weight and shakes her head at my term for her; Dragan’s jaw tightens, but he doesn’t say anything. I can tell the appellation bothers him all the same. And, of course, it should—he’s had his way with her, and she entrapped him just as easily as Lamia did. I’m sure that fact burns him more than any flames of hell could.
I grab her rope, and move away from Dragan, approaching the vampire with an impassive shield over my expression. Eilish blinks up at me, like an owl. Dark circles appear beneath her enchanting eyes, and I force myself to look away.
“Watch her,” I order Baron. “Dragan and I will find the gateway. Wait until Flumph lowers the stone, before you follow. We should assume there are sentries all over the region, thus we’ll need to move quickly.”
“This isn’t my first trip to the Fae Realm,” Baron hisses through tightly clenched teeth. Sweat beads on his brow as he takes the rope, and the demoness looks on with worry etched on her lovely features. She’s so weak and na?ve, yet she remains the most treacherous creature in our midsts.
“And hopefully it won’t be your last,” I say to him with a quick smile.
“Just know that if the odds are no longer in our favor, I will leave you all to die,” Baron responds, his eyes narrowed and angry. “My memories may be returning one brutal fucking headache at a time, but that doesn’t change the fact that I’m not your friend.”
“I believe you should have already left us,” Dragan barks back at him. Baron doesn’t respond.
I step away from the surly vampire and slither into position. My senses prickle with an eerie awareness of my surroundings. A flicker catches my eye as a ray of pure moonlight refracts off the Riverine stone. Flumph holds it steady while fractals of color bathe the river in a muted rainbow. The colors flow with the rushing current, but in the water’s surface I see the reflection of a door that rests on the other side of the river. It’s a door hidden behind a veil of magic. Standing beside that door is Raflamir.
I walk towards the water with Dragan covering my advances, as we planned. He clenches his jaw so tightly, I wonder if his teeth might crack. Would serve the asshole barbarian right if they did.
As I wade into the water, the reflection reverses. Magic tickles the scarce hair on my arms and, suddenly, I’m standing in the waters of a glittering pool of ethereal energy. Dragan appears at my side and we caution a step toward the door to Earlann.
Raflamir spots us immediately, and his eyes widen with recognition. He lifts his arms and, in an arch of power, creates a dome over the three of us.
“Cambion?” he says in dour surprise. “What brings you here?” His voice is rough, and I notice a horizontal scar across his throat that wasn’t there the last time I saw him.
The years have not been kind to my old friend. “Easy, Raflamir. We aren’t here to cause trouble. I just need a moment to explain.”
“Explain?” he repeats, shaking his head. “It’s quite well known, brother, that you and the Shadow King are the most wanted men in the realms.”
“I’m well aware,” I answer quickly. “But, still, I ask you to listen to me.”
Raflamir points to the scar on his neck. “This is what happens to those who fought beside you in the Great War. I was tortured and sliced open, just for Variant’s entertainment.”
I swallow hard. Perhaps this visit will be more difficult than I’d imagined. “I’m relying upon our kinship, as Fae, Raflimir. Otherwise I would not have come.”
The elf waves his hand again and removes a glamour that conceals the true extent of what he endured at Variant’s hands. Scars litter the Steward’s face. One of his eyes is milky and sightless, with a large slash running through it from the top of his hairline to the underside of his chin.
“I’m sorry to see the extent of the pain you suffered, old friend,” I offer.
“There are rumors you and the Shadow King have gone mad in your banishment,” Raflamir continues, his good eye shifting from me to Dragan, as though he’s trying to decide if he should put credence into such rumors.
“If you believe gossip, then why the fuck did you shield us from the sentries?” Dragan demands. Clearly, he doesn’t understand the art of subtlety. But, why would he? He’s an artless barbarian through and through. I don’t understand how I ever considered him a friend. Truly, we have nothing in common and never did.
As the gargoyle speaks, Raflamir’s gaze never leaves mine. He moves a step forward until the three of us stand only a few inches apart. As an elf, he is smart not to trust shadow creatures or angels after the war. Far too many betrayals against our people have left us paranoid when it comes to outsiders.
“Because, despite it all, my allegiance is still to the True King.”
A sigh of relief escapes me as Dragan frowns. Clearly, he doesn’t appreciate Raflamir referring to me as the “True King.” I’m quite certain Dragan thinks of himself as the only True King, and I thrill over his upset.
I walk back to the water and toss a stone into the pool. On the other side, it should cause an unnatural ripple in the river’s current to signal Baron and the demon. As I watch, the two of them make their way into the pool. The Succubus’ eyes dart about as though she’s a frightened, little mouse. I can practically taste the bitterness of her fear on my tongue.
She’s a good actress, I’ll say that much for her.
Raflamir observes her for a moment before his eyes land warily on Baron. “If they cause trouble—”
“We take full responsibility for our actions,” Dragan snaps. He is quite cranky considering we’ve just found a safe haven.
I shove in front of him and gesture for Raflamir to open the door and allow us entrance. He hesitates, but only briefly. “When you arrive inside the city, stick to the walls,” he advises. “Move east and speak to no one. You’ll come upon a lean-to with a blue door, warded with runes. There, you’ll find a hot meal and a warm bed when you arrive. Tell Saevel I sent you.”
He opens the door and the wooden monstrosity groans as it grants us entrance. We walk through, me leading the way, and I quickly approach my old comrade. My hand lifts to his shoulder and though Raflamir flinches, he doesn’t shrug off my hold. “Thank you, my friend.”
I hope he hears the sincerity in my voice. By allowing us entrance, he risks his own life, and those of the people he cares for. The Steward’s eyes glow for a moment as he nods in turn.
I thank him once more and lead my campions into the town, being careful to avoid any onlookers. The demon moves closer and I feel her arm brush my knuckles, sending a shock of lust through my body. I grit my teeth, and force the feelings away, for they are unwelcome. She notices the way my shoulders tense, and she offers me a confused expression.
I wish I did not have the notoriety I do, otherwise I would find a blond woman with a shapely body and have my way with her all evening.