Slumrat Rising

Chapter 107: The Thunder of Mighty Wings

Chapter 107: The Thunder of Mighty Wings

The cousins were too mad to even swear. Their faces were rigid masks, hands clenched, taking deep, snorting breaths through their nose.

“In case you haven’t figured it out, panoufe is a kind of traditional alcoholic drink. Pretty much only drunk on formal social occasions in the University or by graduates feeling nostalgic.” Jember grounded out. Etenesh refused to look at anyone. Her shoulders shook now and then.

“Tiffen? Temusht?”

“Tefen and Te’mushd are basically… not of the faith and the people, and someone who should belong to the faith and the people but prefers outsiders, respectively. Apostate, do you know that word? Apostate is probably the closest. An offense punishable by death, traditionally.” Jember struggled to speak, anger choking him.

“Alemu?”

“Third son of Duke Red Valley, a status that hasn’t been relevant in centuries. A fact that clearly stings. We know him, of course. Department’s not that big. Pure Lander, but so what? So’s most of the department. Didn’t think he… had gone that hard.” Jember’s voice was becoming even more clipped.

“Sounded like he was interested in Etenesh?” The flatness in Truth’s voice would have startled him if he wasn’t too angry to catch it. Etenesh sure heard it, though.

“That pin-dick wishes I’d give him the time of day!” She snapped.

“Remember what I said about how word gets around? He’s been enjoying a years-long dry spell. At least in our department. Can’t say about off-campus.” Jember explained quickly. Truth just nodded at that. Some little part of him felt relieved. It was stupid. Just because Etenesh was interested in him now didn’t change who she might have been with in the past. But he would have thought less of her. She could do better than an Alemu. And she was his now.

That thought hit him with a jolt, almost enough to snap him out of the swirls of rage and humiliation. That possessive impulse. She, Etenesh, was his now. No one else’s. His. He could feel the sick warmth of the thought, warming and worming and twisting through his chest and guts. His. Etenesh was his. No one else had the right to touch her. His.

He gasped, grabbing his arms and holding on tight. This was… not smart. He knew these thoughts weren’t smart. How many screaming fights had he heard through the walls? How many of his protectees did he have to stop from getting battered because of this kind of thinking? How many times did he have to look away when they did the battering? But he didn’t know how to break out of it.

“Jember,” Etenesh looked over her shoulder at her cousin, eyes blazing ocher. “Tell Lady Deonne that I am ready for my initiation.”

“That’s wonderful news, but is now really the time?” Jember snarled.

“Yes. It is. Because I’ve chosen my sacrifice.” She turned her blazing eyes on Truth. “Would you do me a little favor, Mr. Wells?”

“Probably.” She smiled at that.

“I’m going to guide your hands.” She slowly reached out, only taking them when he offered them to her. Softly, she brought them up- one to the side of her neck. She rested her cheek on the other. She was shivering. Anger, perhaps? Fear?

“Did you know, Mr. Wells, that I watch you a lot?”

He did but didn’t know if telling her was the right answer.

“Silly question, of course you do. Every day, I see you expect violence. You expect to get hit all the time. So you are ready to dodge and hit them first. You are the blade, cutting away the pain of your life. Just like you said. I believe you. Violence is how you understand the world. Everything is some form of violence. And I have watched you try to learn something else. Try to be something else.”

She opened her eyes, soft brown eyes with sclera the color of autumn on the mountains. “It has been beautiful to watch. It is… holy”

Truth felt his heart lurch. The swirling hate and anger draining out of him. Not gone. Just bled out some. It was hard to stay angry, holding her face like this. Looking into her eyes like this.

“I thought I could fix you. Teach you to put down that blade. But I’ve learned better tonight.” She smiled up at him. There was something hard in that smile. “You don’t need fixing. You are as you need to be. The world that made you this way is what needs to change.” She was pulling him in now, her eyes drawing him down towards her.

“Your hand is on my neck, Mr. Wells. The other is cupping my face.” And they were, her cheek fitting so neatly into his big hand, her neck soft as silk over steel. Her pulse raced under his fingertips, her heart beating as wildly as his own. “I believe you could kill me before I even blinked.”

He could. He truly could. It was all chaos- humiliation and anger and love and lust and the sin of possessiveness. The darkness crowded around his mind. He was the blade at her neck, and in the moment, he knew he could never cut her. Etenesh’s smile deepened, the pupils of her eyes dark and still as a desert well.

“I am in terrible danger right now. I really don’t feel safe at all.” She took a deep breath and held his eyes. “Kiss me?”

Truth fell down into her, drowning in the darkness. His lips brushed against hers, soft and warm and questioning. He looked into her eyes again and saw her. Smiling. Waiting. She set their feet on this path. He would have to decide how far they walked. Truth kissed her harder, her hands still cupping his. Offering herself, this kiss, a cup to cleanse the poison he drank before. She was very soft, and warm, and fragile in his hands. He was lost in the strength of her. When he pulled back a second time, she sighed happily.

“I have wanted to kiss you since I saw you step out of Merkovah’s carriage.”

“Etenesh, I-” He didn’t have the words.

“It’s alright. No rush. I’m happy. Are you happy?”

Truth felt like the room was spinning. Was he happy? Right now, in this moment? He started laughing. “You know what? I am.”

“Good. I will want your full attention, Mr. Wells, because I promise you will have mine. No games. No tricks to make you jealous or to goad you into something. I will tell you exactly what I want. And I expect you to do the same. I may not want what you want when you want it. You may not want what I’m offering. We can always tell each other “No.” But I won’t think less of you for asking, and you won’t think less of me. Deal?”

He closed his eyes, hands still wrapped around her neck, as soft a smile as ever he had on his face. “Deal.”

“Seal it with a kiss?”

He leaned in and did just that.

____________________________________________

Truth was relieved when a transcendently pissed-off Merkovah swept into the little conference room they had commandeered. Not because things had gotten awkward with Etenesh. Far from it. No, it was Jember. He kept sniffling and making a fuss about “You two are so beautiful. Oh, this is so, so, so sweet!” Truth thought the dapper man was fucking with him, but no, Jember was entirely, sincerely, happy for them.

“I can’t wait to tell Auntie about this. She is going to gloat for MONTHS about how she raised you right,” Jember continued. Etenesh beamed. Truth just went along with it. He was pretty lost, but Etenesh was firm about him keeping his hand wrapped around her wrist, and that was making everything surprisingly OK. Except that Jember kept going on about it, and it got excruciating.

“You appear well, Mr. Wells. And in a less than murderous rage, which is impressive.”

“Credit Etenesh for that.” Truth smiled slightly, declining to mention that he was still going to kill Alemu as soon as circumstances permitted.

“I do. I assume you are going to kill Alemu as soon as circumstances permit?” Truth almost fell over, choking on his own spit.

“I would never!” He swore, gesturing slightly to his ears and letting his eyes flick around the room. Merkovah snorted with amusement.

“My mistake. Although, if you did have such an intention, you might have to join the queue. Right now, the entire Congress has been derailed by a motion to summarily expel Alemu, and Castigate his mentor, Teacher Ferrenet. Word has gotten around, and our Desrin faculty and students are howling for blood. Literally, in the case of Wise Vchelk. It has blown up to the point where I am fairly sure this was a deliberate, planned provocation.”

“Someone trying to derail the conference?”

“Nothing so simple. With one move, the instigator had divided the University, sowed distrust amongst the Faculty, and created an atmosphere of fear amongst the students. Some of the faculty here are the very best in the world in their specialties, Mr. Wells. This one move might well decide a war. Of course, it would have been far better for them if you had killed the little idiot. Might have started a sectarian riot.”

Ah. Yes. Now that he said it, that did seem like a logical consequence of hacking off Alemu’s head and using it to smash every glass of panoufe in the room before chopping it open, hollowing out the already largely empty brain pan and using it as a chamber pot.

“So yes, Mr. Wells, full credit to Etenesh, with better than passing marks for Jember. Both displayed remarkably good sense. Despite some vile provocation.” Truth swore the lights got a little dimmer at that. “I took it as a personal provocation. Which it absolutely was. So I am being demonstrably, publicly, mad while keeping a cool head and trying to spot the instigators.”

“You don’t feel like putting down the disguise with us, Teacher?” Etenesh asked.

“What disguise? I’ve got a list of assholes I’ve waited DECADES to settle scores with, and given half a chance, today will be that day!” Merkovah bellowed. “These quarter-wit cuckolds think the solution to the present national emergency is a civil war. Well, I’m happy to start that war right now with them!”

“Speaking of settling scores,” Etenesh said softly, “Before Alemu runs back to Red Valley, I want to send him a meal.”

Merkovah looked like he would swear, then reconsidered. “You mean-”

“Yes. I have decided to become an Initiate to the Treasury of Light. And I think Alemu would make a perfect sacrifice.”

“He was raised in an aristocratic household. Alemu’s an ass, but he strikes me as the sort who would have enjoyed training for duels.” Mercovah cautioned.

“He bragged about it. But we are both Level Three’s, so he can accept the duel or be posted as a coward.” The hardness was back in her smile, as was the coldness in her eyes. “I am fairly sure that if I don’t kill him literally, Jember will kill him socially.”

“Most definitely,” Jember agreed.

Truth raised his hand, the one not holding Etenesh. “Sorry, you are dueling Alemu, the duel invitation being some kind of food? Are you allowed to send a champion or something?”

The locals looked at him oddly. “It would kind of defeat the purpose of a duel if you could,” Merkovah explained.

“Not to mention the moral satisfaction. Oh, you wanted to do it yourself?” Etenesh asked.

“Yes, and make sure he couldn’t slip in a ringer.”

“He can’t. His second could try to negotiate a peaceful resolution, but under the circumstances, that would be impossible.” Her smile widened, growing cruel. “Freshwater fish are considered an unclean animal amongst the Orthodox, as are some varieties of saltwater fish. I think a single anchovy would accurately express my feelings.”

Merkovah smiled approvingly. “I will arrange the fish. And the paper.”

Truth nodded quietly at all this. He had no idea how this all worked. He’d just have to trust that they did. And sharpen his edge in case of any accidents.