Chapter 20 #2
Why does he have to look at me like that and say things that start throbbing in my core again? We’re in no position to take what we really need. Fingers and grinding won’t be enough the next time. As much as I hate doing it, I have no choice but to shove my desire down.
“I’m a mess,” I say, sitting up and tying my pants.
“You’re not the only one, princess.”
I purse my lips, holding back a smile. It’s a good feeling knowing I can make him lose control without so much as touching his skin.
Although I sort of feel bad about his...
predicament. The sticky wet mess in his pants can’t be comfortable.
I tuck that thought away, promising to return to it when I can make it up to him.
“The good news is that we passed the time,” he says.
I lift my head and am greeted by the towering archway leading into Sibyl’s capital.
Patches of melting snow cover the rustic road and vast plains line either side.
Elk and bison graze on the tall brown grass.
I watch the peaceful animals, admiring how they stay close together.
Even they know there is strength in numbers.
Kyron and I wait for the others to reach us before moving on to the city.
Every building is constructed from sun-bleached stone.
No matter how big or small, each home looks the same—sloped roofs covered in brown clay tiles and tall pillars along the front.
It’s all symmetrical and colorless and drab, yet there is so much beauty found in the throngs of people.
Sibyl is a hodgepodge of the different kingdoms. The Esspress flutter around in colorful billowing pants and shirts, accessorized with gold and jewels.
Saras prefer more sensible clothing. Many wear aprons with pockets to carry the instruments they use to heal.
In many ways, they remind me of the people in Lucent, opting for colors that easily hide dirt and blood gathered from a hard day’s work.
The Allaji are asked to stay in their human forms while in the city, making it easy for others to converse with them.
Just like it was on the island, they wear little clothing mixed with a hint of their animal.
But it is the blue robes with matching head coverings that are in the majority.
Every Sibyl dresses the same, no matter their station in life.
Even their leader, the Divine Sibyl, doesn’t stray from the tradition.
None of them have names or are defined by a gender.
They aren’t bound by the roles found in other societies.
They just are, and they dedicate their existence to being the embodiment of the Statera.
Everyone is welcome in this sacred land to connect to the Statera and learn the history of the five kingdoms. It’s the reason we are here.
If anyone has an accurate history of Pliris, it will be the Sibyls.
Along with keeping records about every kingdom, some have the rare ability to share prophetic words from the Statera.
We could get some insight about the outcome of this war if the Statera wishes us to know.
Keeping to less crowded roads, we weave our way through the city.
It’s our goal to go virtually unnoticed while we’re here.
It isn’t the Sibyls who worry us. Anyone from the five kingdoms can join their order, forgoing their loyalty to their home kingdom and sovereign.
So, an Allaji who becomes a Sibyl would never get involved with Zek’s affairs.
They’re called to remain neutral in situations such as ours.
The same can’t be said for the hundreds of shifters who flock here for other reasons.
We stop at a public washroom just outside the temple gates to give Ashavee a moment to return to her human form and put on her clothes. Kyron and I also dismount Samson and take the opportunity to clean up.
When I emerge from the washroom refreshed, I make my way to Nortus. Ulric hands me the reins and wiggles his red eyebrows saying, “It looks like you and Ky had a nice ride?”
“Don’t go there. If you do, I’ll be forced to tell Ashavee how you were drooling over her all morning,” I say, mounting my horse.
“I wasn’t—she was walking...” Ulric claps his mouth shut, fills his lungs and starts again. “I was just keeping an eye on her.”
I purse my lips and shake my head. “Is that the story you’re going with? What about all the times you stare at her when she’s not in danger?”
“Elle has a point, man. The way you watch Ashavee is almost obscene. I feel like I’m intruding on your alone time,” Terro adds.
Greer steers her horse over to us. “Are you talking about how Ulric undresses Ashavee with his eyes even when she’s a cat?”
Terro and I nod.
“What the fuck?” Ulric throws his hands in the air. “Have you met the woman? She’s insufferable, always talking about artifacts and knowing shit. How can I even have a conversation with her when she’s too smart to talk with?”
Terro leans forward in his saddle, moving his face into Ulric’s line of sight. “But you think she’s sexy.”
“I suppose she’s a nice-looking lady. But did you hear me when I said she is too smart?”
“All I hear is that you think she’s sexy, smart, and has one hell of a swaying tail,” Greer says, and Terro and I fall into a fit of laughter.
Kyron takes the steps down from the washroom two at a time and unties Samson from a post. “Are you talking about how Ulric’s new hobby is jaguar watching?”
We laugh harder, and Ulric turns his horse away from us. “I’m halfway thinking it’s time to find some new friends.”
“Come on, Ulric. I’m sure she’ll come around. You’ve been telling us for years what a fine specimen of man you are,” Kyron says with a smirk.
“You’re a massive whale dong... Your Majesty.”
My hand flies to my mouth, stifling a giggle. Kyron has been called many things—hell, I’ve added my own unsavory names to the list—but I don’t think they were ever delivered with such respect.
Ashavee walks out of the building, her fingers working her thick hair into a braid. Her eyes dart between us as she moves closer. “You allow him to talk to you like that?” she asks Kyron.
“Normally, I’d ask for his head to be brought to me on a serving platter, but in this case, he may be right. I am a massive whale dong.”
“Don’t joke with someone who comes from a kingdom where her king would have no problem asking for heads,” I say before urging Ashavee to jump onto Nortus with me.
“Proof that he’s a dong too. But I’m not inclined to call him a whale dong. I feel bad for the whale,” Ulric says, clearly over our teasing.
Ashavee climbs into the saddle behind me and says from over my shoulder, “I’ve always liked to think of him as balls—fragile and easy to crush.”
Ulric smiles at that, and the pure adoration he has for my friend returns. He can try to fight it all he wants, but he has a crush on Ashavee. And by the way she has stuck to his side since coming to Pliris, I’d say she feels a little of the same.
Kyron moves Samson to the head of our group and looks back at us. His eyes sparkle as his ebony hair flutters in the breeze. “Well then, let’s go figure out how to crush some balls.”
The Sibyl’s atheneum is just as breathtaking as it was the first time I walked through its double doors.
Four stories of tall bookshelves reach for the vaulted ceiling and marble tabletops match the gleaming floors.
Everything from lush chairs to the trolleys stacked high with books is an immaculate white.
The only spots of color are found in the book covers and stained glass dome above us.
Sunbeams shine through the images depicting the five kingdoms and the gifts bestowed upon them by the Statera.
The multi-colored fragments of light reflecting throughout the atheneum give everything a celestial sparkle.
“It feels wrong to come in here after riding a horse for half of the day,” Greer says, rubbing her hands together like she is trying to brush away the dirt.
Terro leans into Ulric, inhales, and scrunches his nose. “Agreed.”
Ashavee runs her fingertips over the spines of the books closest to us.
It’s impossible to miss the total awe on her face.
The books are a rainbow of colors, crawling up the walls and curving down aisles.
The knowledge inside their pages surely calls to her studious soul.
“I’ve never seen anything this spectacular,” she says.
“Oh, I have,” Ulric replies.
Ashavee shoots a glare over her shoulder. “What could you have possibly seen that is as beautiful as this?”
“Play nice, m’ eudail, and maybe one day I’ll tell you.”
She scoffs and turns back to exploring the books. “And don’t call me that unless you tell me what it means.”
He ignores her, soaking in the sight of her lean body as she continues down an aisle.
Kyron and I exchange a knowing glance as he slides his hands into his pockets.
He steps into the center of the room and cranes his neck, taking in the stain glass and upper levels.
He slowly spins, reminding me of the way his shadows curl when they swirl from his hand.
“I can’t believe that all these books contain the history of the kingdoms. It doesn’t seem like we have done enough to fill all these tomes. ”
I smile at his childlike wonder and say, “It’s not all history. The books contain a variety of subjects. Philosophy, science, and mathematical theory, the Sibyls even collect fiction. It’s safe to say they have an obsession with bound things.”
“Obsession might be an understatement. We breathe, eat, and sleep the written word. It is almost as important to us as the Statera.”
I spin around to face the owner of the frail voice.