Chapter 7
The festival was getting louder and busier by the time we were done with our latest round, and I was pretty much glued to Inkiri’s side.
There were so many people, so many unfamiliar sounds and smells.
People carried lanterns around, the young bagua still played their fire fetching game, and I saw some older bagua spinning a rough rope, the end of which had been lit and was still glowing embers.
Bagua of all ages jogged past us. The lanterns were omnipresent, even if not everyone had one. People were eating, drinking, chatting, shouting, and laughing everywhere you looked. It was quickly getting to the point of really stressing me out, no matter that our small group was a solid shield.
Hove had managed to find us too. He’d finished his work and was now making his way through an English conversation about magic with Vergis.
“You magic learn in Earth?” Hove asked. I had the feeling that was somewhat established, but maybe Hove needed the practice.
“Yeah. It’s pretty much the same though, wherever you learn it,” Vergis said.
Hove nodded. “But no Koa Esher.” He made a face that told me exactly what he thought of the cola ash people. I very much agreed.
Vergis sipped his fanny. “We saw the Koa Esher.” He indicated me. “We were traveling with Inkiri’s new mate, and the Koa Esher attacked us.” Vergis spoke slowly, which was kind of nice.
Hove nodded. “I knew.” He nodded at Inkiri.
“They told report. But I mean…when you were…” He raised his hand to show he meant when Vergis was little.
Was Vergis ever little? Huh. You’d think he’d emerged fully formed and fully grumpy from some romantasy-tastic fairy tale to glower and show people his knife collection.
“When I was a kid. Yeah, there were no Koa Esher then, just lots of humans. Humans can be bad too.”
I inhaled sharply, which got me both their attention.
Before I could speak, I remembered that cult.
“Uh, I, erm… You know, yeah.” I raised my fanny.
“It’s all the patriarchy, of course. It makes people really, really bad.
” I was trying to use simple words for Hove’s sake, but also maybe I was feeling the alcohol just a little bit.
The people around us too. “Especially since the apocalypse, people have been really bad.”
“Apocalypse?” Hove cocked his head.
“Lagasar,” Vergis said. He looked at me as if he was reassessing me and where I fell on the spectrum of despicable humans.
“Apocalypse,” Hove mumbled, testing the word on his tongue.
“I’m really surprised you all speak human,” I told him. “Or English, that is.”
Hove looked pleased. “I speak not. I learn.” He gestured, fishing for words. “Since lagasar, more learn. Lagasar opens Earth, and when open, we go and speak.” He looked at me, clearly trying to figure out whether I got what he was trying to say. “You say people bad?”
I nodded. “Well, some. Like, you know, something bad happens, and the crazies really come out?”
He narrowed his eyes. “Crazies?”
I looked at the rest of the guys, but they seemed content to watch the exchange. Or to give Hove the chance to practice with a real-life human.
“It’s…like very bad people. When something bad happens, the very bad people get worse.”
Inkiri rubbed my back as if he were worried talking about bad people might summon them.
Hove’s eyes lit up with understanding. “Yes! Yes. That is. And when bad people are, good people need protecting. Raiken is protecting.”
I nodded as I sipped more fanny. “You mean you can help?”
Inkiri clicked. “We must. Humans are not prepared to deal with the Koa Esher.”
Hove nodded. “And magic.”
Vergis snorted. “Humans wish they had magic, and evidence suggests if they do, it’s not great.”
Huh. Was this real? Were Vergis and I agreeing on something? I nodded as I took another careful sip.
Hove nodded and clicked at Vergis. “Your magic skill from Earth, is impressive.”
Out of the corner of my eye, I caught Nokim frowning at that interaction. He shifted closer to the two of them, and I hid behind my tankard, wondering how that was going to go.
I leaned closer to Inkiri, and before long, I’d lost track of the conversation. I kept looking at what was happening around us, loud noises startling me even though they were just laughter or conversation.
“Sweet thing.” Inkiri ran his hand through my hair. “You’re so tense. What’s the matter, hmm? What do you want?”
I looked up at him, reveling in both his warmth and attention. “I’m fine. I’m just not used to crowds anymore, I guess. The last time I saw lots of people together was back at the cult, and that was not fun at all. Sorry. Don’t mean to ruin the party.”
“You’re not ruining anything, Sadir. Lissir? Rory and I are heading back to the rikori. The crowd and noises are a bit much for him right now.”
Lissir took our empty tankards, and Inkiri was leading me away from the noise so fast I barely had the chance to wave goodbye to everyone.
“Better now?” Inkiri asked after we’d walked a block or so.
We’d moved farther into the city and not toward the bridge we had crossed to get here. It was quieter, though I could still hear the distant sounds of the honk roar week.
The wide road we were walking along was paved with smooth cobblestones, and the buildings here had signposts with writing and pictograms on them out in front.
I was guessing this was the downtown area, with the shops all around us closed for the night.
They still had paper lanterns out next to their signposts though, colorful ones.
It was really pretty. Only a few bagua passed us by.
“Yeah. I’m sorry for pulling you away from the party. Truth is, I never was a good party animal.”
He smiled. “A party animal? What’s that?”
I shrugged. “Someone who likes parties and attention. Who’s good at having a good time. I prefer things a bit quieter.”
“Quiet isn’t a bad thing.” He brought the wrist he was leading me by up to his mouth, and his rough tongue tickled my pulse point.
“You never hold hands, do you? Licking or smelling someone’s wrist is important, right?”
Inkiri nodded. “Yes. It’s where a person’s scent is very strong. Any hangu-na would do well not to touch you there uninvited.” He released my wrist and put his hand in mine. Or around mine, since he was a sword-wielding giant with nice big hands. “You want me to hold you like this?”
“Almost. Here.” I braided our fingers together, human-style.
“Hmm.” We walked on for a few steps. “I think I still prefer taking your wrist, Sadir.”
I giggled. “Come on, give hand-holding a try. It’s awesome.
I always wanted someone whose hand I could hold in public, you know.
You’d think a wedding ring shows the world you have someone, but the hand-holding shows you truly like the person walking next to you, enough to keep up the prolonged skin on skin contact.
It’s, like, even better than a wedding ring.
” I tugged on the scarf he’d put on me. “This scarf is basically like a wedding ring. You know, you should be ashamed of yourself for making me wear one and not telling me. Before we got here, I mean.”
Inkiri clicked. “You readily let me mark your neck and throat, so it felt right.”
We turned right down a narrower street instead of continuing straight, and the small alley brought us to steps going down and curving left.
A single lantern illuminated the stairs, and this one had a sturdy wooden frame, a bulb just visible through the latticework covering it.
There was electricity here, then, not just lanterns that relied on flame, and I’d missed it until now.
“Where—”
We started down the stairs. “A park. You’re not wrong when you say I should have told you.
My excuse is that ever since the first night, being with you has felt natural.
I sometimes forget you’re human and don’t know all the customs. But that’s a poor excuse.
” The stairs ended amid lush greenery that looked black now.
Only deeper in the park did I see green where another light showed the colors that were hiding in the darkness.
Branches and leaves whispered on the night breeze.
“I should beg for you to forgive me, and I know humans do their begging on their knees.”
“I can’t see here—”
But that stopped mattering when I followed Inkiri onto the soft ground beyond the paved path we were on, when he led me into the canopy of midnight green.
I heard and smelled the river, so we were closer to it than I had thought, and the scent of wet earth and flowing water hung in the air. There was something unfamiliar in the scent too, maybe because the plants were different or the water. Maybe it was just my imagination.
Before too long, Inkiri spun me around and guided me back with both hands on my shoulders.
“You just relax. While I work to earn your forgiveness,” he rumbled. “That is, if you allow me to. To please you with my mouth.”
Ohhh. That was what was happening. He’d guided my back against a tree, and there was just enough light here so I could see the arches of his horns dip low as he knelt. I couldn’t quite see his eyes, but I thought they caught the faint light once, sending a shiver through me.
“We’re doing this…out here?”
“If you want to. Only if you will allow me to please you, Sadir.”
“Oh.” I considered it. I’d never done this, obviously. Had I ever fantasized about doing it outside where someone might see? “Are we… I mean, isn’t public indecency a thing here? I don’t want to get tossed into Aer jail just because you decided I need a blowjob.”
His laughter came out low, and because he had his hands on my hips, I could feel it too. “Tell me, are humans really that scared of such a basic thing as two or more people finding joy in each other’s bodies that they would lock us up for doing so?”
“M-maybe.”
“No one will do that to us. Although, I think you should try not to scream. People might be asleep in those houses.”