Chapter 49
“They are miraculous?” Languidere said as she gently took her newly prized, enchanted choker from the Red Jin.
“Not as miraculous as you,” he growled, playfully biting her neck.
“Will it hurt terribly?” Languidere whimpered, holding the necklace to her collarbone.
“Exquisitely so,” he said, drawing his hand to her neck. Languidere placed the heavy necklace back into the velvet box and pulled the ribbon tab on the inside lid of the box. The circular blade shone, held in place by button brads.
“Your own personal guillotine,” he said, his eyes flashing between hers and the blade in the vanity mirror.
“Such a pretty word. A guillotine to take the crown… any crown,” Languidere said as tingles rose on her back at the feel of the Jin’s teeth at the back of her neck.
She traced the three beautiful rows of diamond and emeralds stacked upon each other.
The center row even had a lovely lever that ejected to contract the circular blade that locked in place after it sliced.
She wasn’t worried about the force of the center blade, for that would be quick.
It was the sharp retracting teeth that grabbed either side of the skin of her neck that she was more worried—or perhaps excited—about.
The Jin pressed his groin firmly into her back.
Languidere ejected the blade, which swung out and caught on its hinge, and unclasped the back of the choker. “The pain can’t possibly compare to pleasure of wearing Alice’s head and the gifts that will come from it.”
“Indeed.” From the table, the Jin took the poppy milk in the crystal cordial glass and pressed it to her lips.
It stung as it warmed her throat. She pushed the two pin levers to extend the teeth and placed the choker around her neck.
The bottom teeth shocked her, immediately drawing blood as they rested flush with her skin.
They were sure to draw much more as they angled inward to pull her skin into the frame of the necklace.
She took a deep breath and slid her robe from her shoulders.
“Please clasp me,” she said. The Jin smiled.
His hands caressed her stomach, breasts, and her shoulders, then finally stopped on the clamp lever.
“Take a breath,” he whispered.
Languidere opened her eyes, but they were not hers at all.
Her vision, while somewhat clearer, beheld the sparkling radiance emitting from the lurlicite collar.
She could hardly believe it. The enchantment had worked, and, aside from the stinging tenderness she felt from her skin stretched tightly to the choker, she felt most wonderful.
There was, however, a new sensation, a feeling tucked away somewhere within her.
The feeling that something waited or lingered, like a dream.
This was Nan, somewhere still inside the collar or her own mind.
Though the princess’ true head was now safely stored in her wardrobe, asleep, she herself still controlled her body and Nan’s image.
“You have performed a miracle,” Languidere said and laughed aloud. “I have a witch’s powers! Damnit! How do I make them?”
The Jin, who had stood back admiring his work, came close to her. “Make them what?”
“You know! Come out. Perform a little trick? Damn damn! I should have asked her what she could do before I cut it off,” Languidere said, but the Jin wasn’t paying much attention to the dilemma.
He began to pull his shirt strings open, reaching for her.
“Stop,” she said, then began to laugh. “My voice—her voice, I mean—is so quiet.” The Jin came up behind her, turning her to the mirror.
She studied the image. She could admit outright, now that Nan belonged to her, that Nan possessed a more pleasing set of features than her own, though Nan had not wielded them at all.
Languidere, however, had a more dramatic curve to her figure, and, despite Nan and Languidere being roughly the same size, Nan’s head did look better with Languidere’s body, she decided.
Delighted, Languidere promptly strolled to the vanity behind the screen where Nan’s headless, lifeless body still lay submerged.
She began to apply lip tint vigorously, covering the new pouty lips she wore, when there was a tiny splash from tub.
Nan’s fingers twitching, Languidere assumed.
She thought of Hungry Tiger’s little tail twitching ever so slightly when its head wasn’t on its body and giggled softly at the idea of it.
“I need you to take care of that body,” Languidere quietly commanded.
“I thought we might…” The Jin’s hands found their way to her buttocks.
“Not yet. I need to first take a stroll as Guinevere. To see what it feels like.” Languidere motioned to the pile of Nan’s clothing beside the tub and instructed the Jin to dress her. She would put her new disguise to a test.
“No. My Lord! I can bring you Alice.” Mombi curtly interrupted the tirade Roquat battered her with, causing him to turn with such violent force that it sent rocks from his cape scattering across the crystal floor of his throne room.
“You have tried and failed!” he boomed. He lunged toward her like a hawk and took her throat in his hand. She fought the urge to tremble, for she knew he could drain her of all the gifts that remained and her life force.
“With respect. As have you, my Lord,” she said lowly, boldly. Roquat squinted, then released her, nearly sending her to the ground, causing the gnomes who held her to scurry back. Mombi recovered and stood firm.
“How then will this time be different, Mombi? How will it be different than any other time?” He stood towering over her. With one blow, he could knock her head clean off, but she trusted enough that he wouldn’t, not yet, while he needed the girl.
“Give me my power back, the one you promised, and I will simply walk up to her, and she will be mine without resistance,” Mombi said, for she knew it was true. There was no deception in this fact.
“If you do not deliver her,” he began, and his eyes began to brighten. He was going to submit to her, but it wouldn’t last long, and he would have his revenge if she didn’t succeed.
“I will, my Lord.”
Roquat’s throat rumbled with something like a growl. He stepped forward. Mombi had won.
Her mouth began to salivate as Roquat raised his hand and placed it on her head, and a radiant heat, like fire, poured into her skull.
She felt it move through her body, her skin prickling, and suddenly, the feeling that had been severed from her for so long returned, as though it was a limb of its own.
But it was one she knew she could move and shape to her will.
“Thank you, my Lord.” Mombi smiled while her head was bowed. Roquat was never going to get the girl. No one but Mombi would, not now that her powers were at long last restored.
“Forsake me, Mombi,” Roquat said, as though reading her very thoughts, “and you will regret it.”
“I would not dream of it,” Mombi said, looking up to the gnome king with steady and direct focus.
“I should hope not. Make no mistake, you are not free of me when you leave the Under.” Roquat’s eyes shone in the darkness of his chamber.
“Melisara would gladly answer my summons. She would, even more gladly, end you.” His threat, while not surprising, carried enough weight to ruffle Mombi’s feathers.
She gritted her teeth. Few witches, or sorceresses for that matter, concerned Mombi, but a run-in with that shrieking beehive would have irreversible consequences.
Melisara could be dealt with, and none of it would matter if Alice was removed entirely from Oz.
Roquat would remain below earth, and Mombi, finally whole, could be free.
“You have my loyalty,” Mombi said as the thrill of deception coursed through her blood, and now skin.