The door to the passenger cabin opened and Vulkis Shieldbreaker - glorious former huscral of Thor, current captain of the finest vessel upon the entire Platonic Sea and sort-of-spy for the new Free Lord of Babylon - immediately regretted not knocking.
“We are busy!” Athena’s voice boomed as she threw a boot at Vulkis. Because she was distracted by two fingers thrust into her very shapely, slightly iridescent pussy, the boot hit the wall above Vulkis’ head with an impact loud enough to ruin the boot and mar the woodwork.
Artemis, her body just as nude as her... actually, that made Vulkis blink.
Artemis was beautiful, of course. Just as athletic and slender as Athena, but unlike the pale and made up goddess of wisdom, Artemis looked as if she had been tanned all over, giving her a healthy, golden glow. Where Athena was shaved bald, Artemis’ bush grew wild and free.
“Wait, aren’t you two sisters?” Vulkis asked, pointing between the entwined goddesses.
“No!” Athena threw a second boot. This time, Vulkis was saved by slamming the door before it struck his face. As he turned his back to the door and tried to think of how he might save his ship and himself from the wrath of not one but two goddesses, Thu’Chan stepped over. He bowed his head.
“Pirates on the horizon, sir,” he said, quietly.
“Thank the gods,” Vulkis whispered.
The Platonic Sea – never exactly a safe trade route in the best of times – had been driven completely mad by the start of the war. Refugees fleeing the Asier heartland as Brax and his army cut a swath through the countryside. With the Aesir fleet withdrawn from guarding their trade lanes, pirates had emerged from their atolls and their islands to attack anything they thought make make them a profit. Coming to the edge of his ship, Vulkis pursed his lips.
“Looks like Hellenes!” he said.
Then he heard a creak, not unlike a sail being drawn taut. Turning, he saw Artemis, her body as naked as the day she had been born. She was holding that monster of a longbow that she had brought onboard and was grinning as she aimed it right at his heart.
“Sorry,” she said. “But my sister is really pissed. It’s either this or becoming a spider, and let me tell you this, this is a lot less painful in the long run.”
“Whoa, whoa!” Vulkis lifted up his hands. He stepped to the side, gesturing at the horizon that rose upwards towards the sky. “Pirates.”
Artemis blinked.
Then she grinned. Wolfish. Eager.
“That’s way more fun,” she murmured.
She sprang onto the railing of the ship and loosed an arrow. She was fighting against gravity and immense distance, and yet Vulkis’ eyes caught a glint of movement. Someone fell over the side of one of those ships and the ships started to roil with motion. Artemis laughed.
“The look on his fucking face, dipshit,” she said.
Vulkis turned back and saw that Athena was emerging from her stateroom, dressed in a tunic. The goddess of wisdom had carefully pinned her curly brown hair up into a severe beehive, and she looked murderously angry. As she walked towards Vulkis, the old huscral started to think quickly.
“So, she says you are sisters,” Vulkis said, quickly. “But you said you’re not, uh, what’s that about?”
Another arrow loosed. Athena crossed her arms over her chest. She breathed in, then breathed out. “Now that you ask,” she said. “I sprang fully formed from Zeus’ head. That means that I am technically related to Zeus, and Zeus is Artemis’ father. But the simple fact is that I am a constructed being – a god, but fully adult from birth, and-”
She started to go into increasingly technical details as Vulkis saw her getting more and more distracted by explaining the intricacies of her unique position. By the time the pirates were starting to sail away, Athena had been entirely mollified by how interested Vulkis had seemed in her exposition. Artemis hopped off the side of the railing, her bow unstrung and swung over her shoulders like the crossbar of a water carrier. She hooked her arms over the bow, shaking her head.
“Fucking pussies,” she said.
“Does it ever strike you odd that comparing a coward to a part of our anatomy has become commonplace?” Athena asked, her voice dry. “Some Greeks believe I’m so intelligent because a man constructed my every being, without a single-”
“Yeah, whatever, toots.” Artemis waved her hand. “Wake me up when we get somewhere where I can shoot more people. Or if you want to sit on my face more, sis.”
The door to her cabin shut.
Vulkis breathed out a slow sigh of relief.
“When do we reach Olimurias?” Athena asked, quietly, her cheeks bright red. “And I hasten to add, we are not sisters.”
“Within the next daybreak,” Vulkis said. “Faster, if we get more headwind.”
Artemis nodded.
When she returned to her cabin with her... fellow Dodekatheon, Sobek emerged from his cabin. He walked over, then put his palms on the railing. He watched the water ripple before him. He grinned slowly.
“I can see why Vanderbilt always taps you,” he said, nodding to Vulkis. “You’ve handled having three gods aboard fairly well.”
“I still want to know, ah, why you didn’t hire your own fleet,” Vulkis said. “You could each have your own ship, and each have a dozen escorts.”
“And travel at a snail’s pace, get attacked every day of the trip, and arrive months later than we would have.” Sobek shook his head. “Better this.” He sighed. “I am sorry, I know that the enemy are attacking Thorheilm.”
“Don’t worry,” Vulkis said, his voice soft. “My family has spread far and wide since I was born there. And even if my grandfather and grandmother are still there when the lizards come, Thorheilm won't fall.” He shrugged. “And even if it did, I doubt that this Brax and Sysminor will want to kill a shoemaker and a miller.”
Sobek nodded.
The two men looked out at the waters for a time.
“So, was it true that you walked in on Artemis eating out Athena?”
“Of course not!” Vulkis let himself lean over the railing. “She was just fingering her.”
Laughter carried far across water.
***
“Here is what Odin knows for a fact about Purgatory,” Loki said, her rump settled on the largest, most comfortable chair in the office that wasn’t Liam’s. Liam had his feet up on his desk, his toes wiggling as they stuck out of the fronts of his sandals. One of the serving maids that worked at the Free Lord’s manor poured water into a cup for him, then for Loki, then scooted out as quickly as she could.
Not quick enough to avoid Loki slapping her butt playfully.
“Don’t do that,” Liam said, frowning. “Most of my servants were former slaves. I have few rules for them, and one of those rules is no touching unless invited.”
Loki pursed her lips, then shrugged. “Fair.” She looked as if she was giving him a new appraisal. “Still. Odin is a gatherer of knowledge. Lore and secrets are his greatest joy. He interviewed the eldest of the lizardfolk after the wars that came with our banishment. He collected elven scrolls and goblin tablets. He even questioned the Ancient God, who sired the valkyrie with Sif, Bastet, Aphrodite and myself.”
“Wait, you bore some of the ancient valkyrie?” Liam asked, his eyebrows rising almost off his head.
“Of course,” Loki said.
“But-”
“The Ancient God was gorgeous,” Loki said, grinning widely. “Besides, I love all of my children and they all share a theme. Eight legged horses, giant world eating wolves, snakes, Hel.” She chuckled. “That theme, in case you hadn’t noticed is-”
“Being unique?” Liam asked.
“And the valkyrie are so much more interesting than the legendary servants of my brother,” Loki said. “Humanoid, yet capable of flight. Immensely strong, and yet vulnerable to the simplest of things. Nulldarts are so cheap you can make them by accident if you are a crystalwight.” She sighed. “And unlike my other children, they had more people to interact with. Made an actual culture.” She nodded. “It’s very nice. And that is part of why I like you, Liam. You have taste.”
“Because of Meg?” Liam asked.
“Well, I was going to compliment the fine rug, but yes, Megara is an excellent choice,” Loki said, chuckling. “You know, she might be related to me. Just because she’s born in a Hellenic city doesn’t mean she was all Hellenic.”
“I’d rather not know, honestly,” Liam said, his voice dry. Though, thinking back, he felt a kind of squirming guilt as he realized he knew remarkably little about Meg beyond the simplest facts. Though, part of that was her fault. Every time he asked, she just shifted the topic to Earth.
Loki chortled. “Now. Purgatory is a hollow sphere, roughly five to six hundred miles in radius. Objects weight the same as on Earth, by Odin's estimation. The sun burns at the same temperature, but as there is no variation between dawn, noon, and dusk, the actual temperature of Purgatory is five or six degrees warmer than Earth’s. Humidity is up, hence all the jungles.” She nodded. “But the most interesting things are legends from the lizardfolk. They claim that Purgatory simply came into being. One moment, there. The next, here.”
Liam inclined his head. “Not entirely unusual. Genesis says that Earth was made in seven days.”
Loki waved her hand. “Genesis.” She said the word as if it was a curse. “Here’s where things get interesting. In all his explorations, Odin has never found the hints that there was a Purgatory before we got here. No buried bones. No striations of earth. And more, he once commissioned mortals to dig downward. The deepest mine, situated in the most shallow part of the world. They never got to the bottom.”
“Why not?” Liam asked.
“They started freezing to death.”
Liam shifted in his seat, considering.
“Now, this is all merely fascinating esoterica,” Loki said. “But it explains why Odin discovered this. He became fascinated with the crystals that naturally occur across Purgatory, and this mine of his discovered that they were growing underground, where great deals of death occurred. Natural death, that is. Rotting jungle would seep into the ground, and making fertile earth. Fertile earth creates crystal. Crystal grows up and out of the ground – fed on by some creatures that then distribute it with their own deaths. Crystalbacks, for instance, will travel after feeding. They die, either from predators or from sickness or old age or from the very crystal they eat. It grows into their bodies, and eventually overcomes them!”
Liam rubbed his chin slowly, his brow furrowing.
Loki snapped her fingers. “And that is how crystal comes to areas without the right fertility. Odin came to the only conclusion that makes sense. These creatures were made to move crystal about.”
Liam shook his head. “So, what you’re saying is that Purgatory was made. By something more powerful, more intelligent, than you gods?” He paused. “Maybe it was named better than we expected.”
Loki opened her mouth. Then she glared at him. “Stop looking so smug.”
Liam laughed. “I don’t think my God made this place. I don’t know who does. I honestly do not care. Right now, we need to work on the real issue. Materials. Cannons. Muskets.” He slapped his palm into the desk. “So get to the point: what do you know about magically transmuting crystals?”
Loki spread her hands. “Odin learned that spell five centuries ago. But it is of only moderate use for most people. It will take a crystal and harden it, making it harder to sheer, shatter, or cut. However, it also surrounds the crystal with a field, so thin that you can barely feel it – but when you swing the crystal at someone, it’ll turn all the energy away. It becomes like striking the enemy with air.”
“So, Odin shelved it,” Liam said. “Crystal armor?”
“Possible, but making pieces of crystal armor proved difficult, expensive and time consuming. Thor has full crystal plate that has been treated this way – but you can’t cover an army in it.” She spread her hands again.
Liam rubbed his hands together. “But now, we can make tubes that won’t shatter.”
Loki inclined her head.
“What’s the price?” Liam asked.
Loki smiled, standing up. Her fingers went to the collar of her shirt. She rolled her shoulders. Her clothes plopped around her ankles, leaving her luminously beautiful form entirely exposed. She put one hand on her shapely hips, her horse-tail of hair trickling along the ground as she walked towards Liam’s desk.
“You,” she said, casually, putting her finger on the desktop.
Liam gaped at her.
Loki’s eyes burned with eldritch green flames as she leaned forward, her breasts pressed together by her palms resting on the desktop, her arms framing her tits wonderfully. Her nipples were hard. Puffy. Her eyes hungry. Liam leaned back in his seat, unable to look away.
Loki held the pose for just a second – then laughed, throwing her head back. She slapped the desk, stepping away half a foot.
“Nah, I’m just fucking with you,” she said, giggling again. “We want trade rights, the first shipment of muskets for delivery to the Aesir, with people who can explain how to use them and how to make gunpowder...” She continued to rattle off points.
And Liam tried to hide his hard on.
***
Tethis grabbed her head in her hands and tugged on her hair as she looked at the paper that Liam had set before her. Liam tried to not look down her dress. Failed. There were some amazing, wondrous advantages to being the tallest man in a world that included curvaceous goblinesses. Doubly so when that world’s most popular piece of clothing was the one piece shift sans anything that Earth would recognize as underwear.
“This is...” Tethis shook her head, then slapped her palms down to either side of the paper. “And I thought those truth telling designs were complicated.”
Liam chuckled softly. “You designed those.”
“And they would have worked,” Tethis said, smiling. Inspired by stories of truth telling magics, Tethis had designed crystal devices that could effectively read someone’s emotional state. Her idea had been to put them at the entrances of the city, to check for smugglers, assassins, spies. Liam had shot the idea down – the last thing he wanted to do was make a magical TSA.
“This, though?” Tethis waved at the paper. “Where to even begin?”
Liam sighed. “I don’t even pretend to know what this stuff is about. But you’re the smartest person I know on Purgatory when it comes to magic. And most things.”
Tethis chuckled. “So, you’re buttering me up so I won’t throw this formula in your face and declare you a madman for even attempting to understand it?”
“Yup!” Liam put his hands on her shoulders. “Can you figure it out?”
“Well, the crystallic structure diagrams are accurate, but the somatic components here are...” Tethis started to go into her magi-babble. Sometimes, Liam tried to follow it. But the days where he had the free mental energy to try and grasp esoteric concepts were long gone. Instead, as she talked, Liam considered the angles on the situation in Purgatory. The Aesir were fighting the lizardmen. Sysminor had some nebulous advantage, given to him by the Codec-
“But I swear, this has to be her fucking with me. Here, it says you need a mixture of a girl’s, ah, juices and a man’s seed. Mixed inside of. Them. To, ah, complete the spell.” Tethis trailed off. “That has to be a joke.”
That dragged Liam’s attention back. “It what now?”
“Well, okay,” Tethis said. “The problem with casting spells on crystals, rather than through crystals, is that they channel magic. That’s why I use one as my foci.” She pulled out the crystal baton that she had used for all the time that Liam had known her to cast her spells. “Casting on a spell is like trying to build an aqueduct with water. Even if you do, it doesn’t do anything.”
Liam nodded.
Tethis twirled her baton around her hand. “But here, Loki is theorizing that you can get around that by changing the state of the crystal. Since the crystal is a grown object, living sympathy should bring that change. And, well, a man’s, ah-”
“Cum?” Liam asked.
Tethis turned red, all the way to her ear tips. Impressive, considering she had been friends with and the occasional lover of Megara and Liam for a year and change. Liam hadn’t thought she would have a shy bone left in her, and yet, here she was, turning red.
“Yes. Cum,” she said. “It makes children. A very profound change in a woman’s, ah, state. It literally combines the two parts of man and woman, right? And a woman’s juice is how she, ah, accepts... cum...” She trailed off, her nipples thrusting out against her shift.
Liam snorted. “I’m no mage, but the logic does seem to make sense.”
Tethis frowned. “Or it is a trickster god playing a trick...”
“Well, think of it this way,” Liam said. “If it doesn’t work, we’re just down a few hours work and Meg is up two orgasms.”
“Two?” Tethis asked.
“Well, I’m not about to let loose inside of her without having her cum twice,” Liam said, rolling his eyes. He stepped to the edge of Tethis’ office, sticking his head out into the corridor. He almost bashed his head into Muttunbaal. The former head slave of the manor house had been among the first freed by Liam when he had killed the god Sysminor. But she had immediately turned around and offered her services for a nominal fee.
Liam, remembering her talent at managing the manor when he had been infiltrating the place, had doubled the fee and paid it immediately. Since then, Mutt had been a steadfast and vital part of the household.
“Sir,” she said, bowing to him. “The nightfire merchant is outside again.”
“Again?” Liam grumbled. He shook his head. “Send him along and tell him that Meg isn’t interested. Not after her last hangover. Also, can you find Meg and bring her here?”
Mutt craned her head and looked back at Tethis. Tethis had leaned over the table to examine the papers. Her shift, chronically shorter than it should have been, rode up, exposing the green curve of her deliciously jiggly rump.
Mutt looked at Liam.
Liam frowned. “Would you believe it is for science?”
Mutt laughed. And kept laughing as she walked down the corridor.
When Meg arrived, Tethis had become completely absorbed in reading and checking the formula that Loki had left there. Meg paused in the doorway, her wings closed behind her back. She cocked her head, tilting her whole body ever so slightly to the side, and just spent a few moments admiring Tethis’ ass.
“Remind me to never correct the tailors here,” she murmured.
Babylon was in the deserts that spanned the region between two mountain ranges. Because of the lack of vegetation and their favorite foods, goblins tended to stay far away. That explained why the first tailor that Tethis had tapped to make her some fresh clothes had gotten the measurements wrong. But it did nothing to explain why the fourth got it wrong.
“Meg, we’re here for science,” Liam said.
“Oooh, kinky!” Meg clapped her hands together. “Does that mean I get to wear one of those strap-ons you told me about?”
Liam coughed. “Get me drunk first...”
“Remove consent, got it!”
Liam snorted, loudly enough that Tethis stood and turned to face them. The gobliness looked utterly distracted, her eyes unfocused, her ears twitching downward in thought. Goblins had amazingly expressive ears. They were nearly as long and pointed as elves, but far more mobile, giving them a whole range of expressions that elves lacked.
“Oh, hey,” she said. “I think that I’ve found a solution to this problem...”
“What problem?” Meg asked.
“We need a mixture of male cum and female pussy juice,” Tethis said, having fallen far enough into working out the problem that she had stopped getting flustered. “But the problem is, if we need to have the artisan fuck every time they make a cannon, we’ll have serious bottlenecks. Not to mention a population problem.”
“Contraceptive magic does exist, you know,” Liam said. “And you can have a mixture of races – like Meg and me.” He slapped Meg’s rump. Meg opened her mouth, then closed it. The look of thoughtful quiet crossed her face so quickly that Liam might have missed it. Save that he had kissed her neck a million times. He had seen her face go slack with pleasure, her back arch with the movement of his fingers, his tongue, his cock. He had been in her and with her and he could no longer see a life without her in it in some way. Trying to see a future without Meg at his side or over his head with her wings spread and her blonde tresses blowing in the wind was like looking into a city of ghosts and ash.
So, Liam saw that look.
And he made a mental note to ask. Later.
“It’s still a logistic issue. But what if we got a mixture so potent that it can be reused again and again?” Tethis beamed. “Once we have a critical mass, well, we can produce as many muskets and cannons as we want.”
Liam nodded. The words ‘critical mass’ – words from Earth, taught to Tethis by him - tumbled through his head for a moment, and he wondered at how much he should have changed the world. Bringing in guns. Printing presses. Then he shook his head. He wasn’t part of Starfleet. He didn’t have a Prime Directive of non-interference. He had been a part of Purgatory since he saved Meg and stopped the war between Apollo and Sobek.
There was no turning back now.
“How do we get that?” Meg asked.
“We use a god’s cum,” Tethis said. “Or, ah, a goddess’ juices. But the other partner needs to be mortal. It’ll be the increased level of difference between the two components – the difference between mortal and divine, that is – that will enhance the power of the spell.”
Liam mimed horror. “Oh no,” he said, voice flat. “However will we possibly manage to do that.”
“It is such a mystery,” Meg said, her voice matching him for deadpan. “I do not know where on the vastness of Purgatory we can hope to discover a god willing to lay with a mortal.”
Tethis snorted, softly. “Well, before we seduce Loki-”
“Dibs!” Meg cut her off, her arm thrusting into the air.
“We need a girl’s juices and a boy’s cum,” Liam said.
“She’s a shapeshifter, she can become a boy,” Meg said.
“Well, yes, but, Free Lord Dibs,” Liam said. “I have veto power.”
Meg punched his shoulder. “I’m your...” She paused, then settled on: “Lover, fucktoy, bodyguard, head scout, personal messenger, translator, and wife!”
“Wife?” Liam asked, feeling the room shift under his feet.
“I was going to ask you at a more dramatic point, but I g-got excited and loosed the arrow too soon,” Meg admitted, her cheeks turning red. She coughed. “Will you marry me, Liam?”
Liam felt the room shift further. It felt like he was standing on the side of a building. Falling off a mountain. No, not falling. Flying. His heart beat faster and faster and he managed, by sheer bloody minded determination, to throw out his hooks and grab the first glib fucking thing that sprang into his mind and yank it away from his mouth before it burst out and ruined his life.
The first response was: I don’t know, want to try that again a second time?
Not a time for crappy jokes, Liam!
Instead, he opened his mouth and managed to say the word that he needed.
“Yes,” he whispered. “I should have proposed the day I met you.”
“That would have been dumb and creepy,” Meg said. Her voice sounded funny. She looked funny. It was like she had too many emotions, coming out too fast, too unexpectedly. She grabbed onto Liam’s shirt and she both leaned forward and dragged him inwards. Their mouths met and tongues drove together. It was a heated crush, and her hands grabbed Liam’s back as desperately as if she and he were drowning. They broke the kiss only when the need to air became intense enough to leave Liam dizzy.
Or maybe it was the sudden change in their lives from the beginning of her arrival to now.
Or maybe it was both.
“I love you,” Liam whispered.
“And now it’s official,” Meg said. “All the times you fucked my brains out didn’t make it clear enough, see.”
“I can fix that,” he said.
Tethis knocked over an inkwell. The inkwell hit the ground and clanked loudly, but the ink stayed inside. Inkwells on Purgatory were built tough, out of metal and stone. It still drew both Liam and Meg’s gaze to Tethis. The gobliness had been trying to back quietly away from them and out of the room without actually turning away. Possibly an atavistic response.
Meg smirked. “Tethisssss...”
Tethis squeaked. The atavistic response must have felt very appropriate.
Meg pounced.
Tethis kicked her feet weakly as Meg held her against her chest, turning to face Liam. She grinned wickedly over the gobliness’ shoulder.
“So, she was saying she needed a mixture, husband-to-be,” Meg purred. She was holding Tethis by her thighs, leaving the smaller girl’s knees free to kick. Meg used that grip to spread Tethis wide, which ruffled Tethis’ shift upwards, revealing the hairless mound of her pussy. Slickness glinted there, visible despite the shadows of Tethis’ breasts. Tethis stammered.
“W-Well, uh, it doesn’t actually have too...” she trialed off as Liam walked forward, his hand going to his kilt. The cloth hit the ground and Liam’s cock silenced Tethis. His member, long and hard, bumped against her thigh as Meg dropped her arms slightly, bringing Tethis’ pussy in line with Liam’s cock. Tethis lifted her knees, whimpering softly.
“Fuck me,” Tethis breathed.
Meg grinned slowly. “Come on, Liam. You said I was here for science.”
“Mmm,” Liam purred. “I was planning to fuck you.”
“Shut up and dick the goblinness!”
Liam grinned and then reached down. He took his time gliding his cock up and down Tethis’ sex, feeling the hard nub of her clit. He leaned over Tethis head and found Meg’s lips with his own. He traced the edge of Meg’s tongue, and then felt her take charge. Her tongue and his met and played and she conquered him – and then conquered Tethis. She stepped forward, her wings enfolding him and Tethis. Liam did nothing but take the impact, grunting into her mouth as his cock was held firm.
And Meg impaled Tethis on Liam.
They broke the kiss as Tethis kissed Liam’s chest. Her tongue – so small and dark, as compact and cute as the rest of her body – flicked against one of his nipples. Her tongue circled around and around his nub, sending sparks of sensation through Liam. He grunted and started to move. His hips rocked and Meg hissed softly – the faint slap of his balls against Tethis’ green ass seemed to be giving Meg the same amount of pleasure as him fucking her usually did.
But Meg always had loved to watch.
She had pushed him, when Liam would have been glad to lay back, to expand his boundaries. To spread his heart.
He looked over Tethis into Meg’s eyes. She grinned at him, looking knowing. Proud. Wise. Mischievous.
“I love you,” Liam murmured.
“I, ah, fuck, oh gods, oh gods, I love this cock!” Tethis mewled. “Ohfuckoh-fuh-ck!”
The word became brittle and shattered as her mouth opened wide and her back arched, pressing her full breasts against Liam’s chest. Her nipples were hard little nubs that rubbed circles against his skin as Tethis writhed and squirmed. Her juices pattered onto the floor, a faint but marvelous counterpoint to the sound of his cock.
Meg smirked.
“I know,” she said. “You did say yes after all.”
Liam thrust deep into Tethis and let himself loose as he felt her sex clench on his shaft like a fist. His balls twitched and hot spurts of cum filled the smaller woman. Tethis made a noise somewhere beyond noise – as if she couldn’t breathe enough to express the pleasure she felt at being Meg and Liam’s plaything. She shuddered, her legs kicking out in the air. Then she went limp. Meg purred, kneeling down, her palms sliding from Tethis’ thighs to her back to her shoulders, keeping her propped in the air.
Advantages that came from being super-strong.
Meg’s tongue slid along his balls, making Liam squirm. His hands went to Tethis’ legs to hold her in place as she beat gently at his chest, mumbling. “No... samples... mm...”
She moaned, then. Meg’s tongue had moved from Liam’s balls to where his cock and Tethis’ tight goblin pussy joined. Her tongue licked and her lips slurped as she sucked up every bit of cum that dripped from around Liam’s cock. Meg drew her mouth back, smacking her lips.
“Salty, but satisfying.”
Tethis managed to whine out a single word: “Samples!”
Later, Tethis was sitting on a stool to keep from wobbling, and looked at the mixture of cum and juices that Meg had captured in an empty inkwell. She frowned, tapping her fingers against her lips.
“Fuck me fuck me oh fuck me, fuck, fuck, fuck!” Meg gasped out, her breasts transcribing perfect circles in the air, her hands gripping onto the wall. The loud slap of Liam’s hips meeting her hips, and the periodic rustling crack of Meg’s wings folding and unfolding with pleasure, joined her breathy narration. Tethis sighed softly.
“I should have sent them to their bedroom,” she said.
Liam, somehow, managed to grunt out. “Free Lord. Your boss.”
Tethis sighed. “Yes, Lord.”
She tried to ignore them. But considering Meg’s stamina - and volume - that was easier said than done.
***
“Spark!”
Laurentinus, Liam, Meg and Tethis ducked below the lip of the small mound of earth the engineers had erected a stone’s throw from Babylon’s walls.A moment later, Vani landed beside them. The hissing sound of burning gunpowder was the only noise that they could hear.
Loki remained standing, her hands on her hips as she watched through the slit of the bunker.
Then-
Boom.
And then-
Whump!
Liam scrambled to his feet. His whoop was loud enough to be heard over the ringing in each of their ears. The cannon had rocked backwards on its wheels, smoke pouring from the muzzle. The target that had been set up down range from the cannon had a hole blown through it larger than Liam’s head. The cannon-ball, made of a solid chunk of marble, had continued past the target and then skidded along the ground in the distinctive bouncing pattern of a grazing shot. Liam could already picture what it would do to the tight formations of classical era combat.
He felt excited.
Then, ill.
Loki grinned. “So, there you go. It works.”
Liam nodded slowly. Laurentinus rubbed his hands together. Vani and Tethis were already discussing new theories and ideas – including the creation of divination spells to put on the cannon, so cannoneers would know where their shot would go before firing. Liam let it all wash through him. Instead, he smiled at Loki.
“Want to celebrate?” he asked.
Loki glanced at him. She grinned.
“I’d love too.”
***
“Hell.”
Liv’s attention snapped from Brax the body to Brax the man. Her focus narrowed and she stood up. She had been spending the long, boring time spent waiting for scouts to return from checking out Wotan’s defenses admiring Brax’s back. And shoulders. And tail. And ass. And remembering the feeling of his exotic cock filling her hands. And thinking…
But with his curse, she refocused her eyes and realized Fizit – who she had been casually ignoring – had said a word. She reached backwards in her memory and found it.
Sysminor, Fizit had said. He’s here.
Liv stood as Brax turned to face her. “Find a place to hide,” he said.
“But-”
“Do it.” Brax put his hands on her shoulders. His eyes were filled with thoughts. Not just worries, but calculations of probabilities, considerations of the future. Liv put her hands on his hands. She stuck out her chin.
“I can handle a god. My Dad-”
“If you’re near me and he’s near me, I won’t be able to focus, damn it!” Brax snarled.
“Oh, I’m distracting then?” Liv snapped without thinking about it. Brax leaned forward. The memory of his cock filling her hand. His voice as he moaned that name, Asura. The way they had ridden in silence afterwards. They hadn’t spoken, and yet the silence hadn’t felt nervous or stilted. It had felt... good. As good as the taste of his cum, tingling on her tongue.
“Yes,” Brax whispered. His muzzle almost touched her lips. Then he shoved her backwards and turned to stalk off towards the edge of the army camp. Fizit remained beside Liv, shaking her head.
“Why aren’t you going with him?” Liv asked.
“God sees us as replaceable,” she said. “The General doesn’t want us to be the target of God’s ire.”
Liv’s ears twitched. Something about that didn’t quite track. But Fizit was good - very good, in fact - at lying. The only lizardfolk who had a better poker face was the General himself. Liv shook her head.
“Well, let's go check on the city then,” Liv said, turning and heading towards the hill. The army had camped at the bottom of a small vale between the jungle and the farmlands that spread around Wotan. Wotan. Who named a city after themselves? Odin lived there, and currently, at least three other members of the Aseir and possibly two of the Vanir had made their homes there. Liv had heard the reports, sitting behind and to the left of her ‘master.’ With six gods in residence, attacking would be suicide.
But here they were, within a few hours march, hidden only by the lizardfolk’s skill at field-craft.
Fizit followed after Liv, moving low and quickly. The top of the hill was graced by one of the ancient statues that dotted the landscape of Purgatory, this one a vaguely humanoid figure, the details worn away by time. Something in the jagged remainders of the statue filled Liv with a sense of dread. She ignored it, kneeling down in the shadows of the trees that surrounded the stone.
Wotan was one of the larger cities in Purgatory. The Aseir had come with their gods and their stories and their boats. They had come to a land as different from their home as any other, and they had needed to adapt. They had adopted other tribes into their society, and used technology borrowed from other lands and other places. Roman style aqueducts, decorated with Viking imagery, carried water to the fields and the city itself. Walls that could have graced any Hellenic city surrounded it. And the fields were finely adapted to Purgatory, growing plants in large fields of water.
Liv frowned. She could already see how an army might use those large, marshy pits to bog down attackers.
And then, out of the blue, Fizit vomited in the bushes beside her.
Liv, through long experience, managed to not give her position away by crying out in disgust. She did wrinkle her nose and turn her head to look at the lizardwoman, who was wiping her muzzle and hastily scraping up some dirt and covering the bile.
“Are you okay?” Liv whispered.
“No, damn it,” Fizit muttered.
The tone was familiar to anyone who had gone to the field of battle in a poorer army, one that couldn’t afford a priest or the sacrifices it took to keep a priest rich with magic. Far from priests and clerics, eating or drinking the wrong thing could make one very ill. And vomiting up half your body weight in water over a week was a fast way to end up very dead.
But there was something in the tone that made Liv look closer.
“Are your tits bigger?”
Fizit glared at her.
Liv cocked her head slowly to the side. “Definitely bigger. So, lizard young suckle too?”
Fizit growled and suddenly, a bronze knife was pressed to Liv’s throat. Not that she had moved to stop the knife. Instead, she just smirked.
“Tell anyone, and-”
“You’ll what?” Liv asked, her voice cold.
Fizit looked into Liv’s eyes. She drew the knife back. Her tail lashed from side to side in clear agitation.
“Not even a scratch. Your father still watches over you then.”
“He has his uses,” Liv said.
“I can get a rock.” Fizit shifted a bit. The acrid scent of her vomit had faded, now that it was buried.
“I can break your hand,” Liv shot back.
“Bitch.”
“Who knocked you up?” Liv asked.
Fizit didn’t answer.
“I think I know why you don’t want me to tell anyone,” Liv said, watching Fizit out of the corner of her eye. “It’s not the General. I’ve noticed how you look at him...”
“I don’t want to fuck the General!” Fizit snarled. “Not every interaction between a woman and a man who are close means that we want to fuck.” She snapped her teeth. “I don’t want to be with child because, in case you haven’t noticed, this is the first step to the largest war that Purgatory has known since your people invaded.”
“My people?” Liv snarled. “Did you not notice the ears? Elves are natives to Purgatory.”
“There’s not a single native elf left. You all became Hellens and Norse and-” Fizit snapped her claws together. “You became sluts for gods, like the goblins.”
“Look how well loyalty to the old gods served you,” Liv shot back.
Fizit shook her head. She stood up slightly, then turned. Her tail whipped dangerously close to Liv’s cheek. Liv didn’t flinch, didn’t let the other woman see her flinch. Once Fizit was away, Liv remained silent for a time. She worked through what she knew, what Brax had told her. The Codec had been activated by a ritual. From what little details Brax had dropped, the ritual had involved a great deal of fucking.
And Brax…
No.
Liv shook her head slowly.
Maybe. If the Codec changed things around, it might have acted as a fertilization spell. She smirked. Liam’s god is going to be pissed.
She froze as a blue glow came into her field of view. She stepped backwards into the shadows of a tree and stopped breathing. Her need for oxygen faded and she simply let herself be – her ears tensing as she listened to the sound of two voices. One made her tingle all over. The other was the voice of a mad god.
“God, please, forgive my impertinence, but are you sure this is safe – you are quite visible.”
“S-Si-lence silence s-ci-sic-silence!”
Brax and Sysminor came into view then. They were walking along the hill, Brax behind and to the left of his god. Sysminor had shrunken himself down to merely humanoid size, and dimmed his glow as he walked among the trees. But he was still unmistakably wrong. His movements were jerky and patchy, as if Liv was missing entire seconds from her vision. He merely bounced from pose to pose. His body, too, was just... unfinished. Blocky cubes and squares, like someone had hacked out a crystal statue and given it madness. An inept Pygmalion.
Then Sysminor came to the statue. He seemed to not notice the vomit, nor Liv.
Instead, he gestured.
“There there there.”
Brax knelt down and scraped at the ground, revealing a small buried gemstone. He touched it with his finger and the hill shook slightly. A door opened in the earth, loam and dirt pattering into the chamber. Liv tensed as she saw a hint of what was opening before the statue. A familiar black stone and white lines.
“What is this?” Brax whispered.
“The door way – way – way to to vic success victory-ey-ey-ey Victor victory.”
***
“Caw!”
Munin flapped as he settled atop Odin’s throne, standing above and to the right of the one eyed god.
“Caw! Loki has met success, caw! First cannons are being made, yes,” Munin pecked at the side of Odin’s throne, then fluttered forward. He landed on the table.
Thor slammed his fist into said table.
It shattered.
“Damn this waiting,” Thor boomed. “My army stands ready, father, and the lizards are right there for the defeating.”
“Thor,” Sif said, quietly. “Your army is young. New. Fighting tends to kill mortals, and they cannot be replaced overnight.”
“I...” Odin could see the pain that flashed across his hotheaded son’s face. Thor sat down at the seat, his face covered a moment later by his large hand. He tugged on his red beard and looked like he wished he could strike himself with as much force as the table. Thor had always been the most enthusiastic of Odin’s children and fellows to expand their territory, to gather fame and to see the valor of men and women shown in the starkest of ways. On the battlefield.
And now, when they were most needed, the best warriors were in Valhalla.
“We have these walls,” Sif started.
Odin’s one remaining eye widened – the warning coming fractionally before it was too late. He flung himself aside with all the alacrity he could bring to bear. And considering the millennium he had had to hone his abilities, to learn what could and could not be done as a god... that was quite fast. Still, he could feel the grazing touch of several nulldarts as they thudded into his throne. Munin took wing as Thor sprang to his feet. Three nulldarts sprouted across the redheaded god’s chest. Thor bellowed in rage and fury and grabbed for his hammer.
Mjolnir was terrifyingly destructive.
It required great power to be wielded.
And with nulldarts – crystalline weapons designed to drain magic from everything they touched – peppering his chest, Odin saw the danger. He lifted up his hand, trying to reach for his son.
Too late.
Thor’s hands went numb and opened. Mjolnir didn’t even strike the ground before the terrifying power within bucked free. The hammer glowed a searing red, then exploded with a wave of concussive force that sent Sif and Odin flying. Thor crashed into the wall with enough force to shatter brick and leave him stunned. Munin escaped through the window. The invaders were pulped, their bodies turned to mangled red meat. But the hole in reality that they had leaped through remained. And through it came more warriors. Swords drawn, darts in hands. They flung them with the deadly skill – as if they were Roman Legionaries, not merely savage lizardmen.
Odin got his throne between him and the next volley. He summoned lightning into himself as Sif hit the ground, nulldarts sprouting from her neck, her chest. She groaned quietly, kicking one leg.
Odin sprang around the throne. His lightning bolt surged towards the portal, hoping to disrupt it. Instead, it was caught by a beautiful lizardwoman wearing a feathered headdress. She staggered with the impact – and then two more lizards with similar headdresses grabbed onto her. Then four more onto them. Their bodies linked together, and then a flash exploded outwards. The lizardfolk were cast to the ground.
But considering they should have been turned to ash, Odin took a moment to be impressed.
Gestalt spellcasting.
The next lizardman who came at him was golden.
He was eschewed skill for numbers, his dart being flung at the same time as all of the other swarming warriors that entered into the council chamber. Darts plunged into Odin and he felt a terrible numbness cross his body. He staggered to one knee. The golden lizardman stood above him. Odin closed his one eye, feeling a sleep more terrible than any he had felt in his life reach towards him. Was this death – something he had seen, visited on others?
Was it death?
He gritted his teeth. “How?”
The lizardman snorted, quietly. “I’ll tell you some day. Promise.”
The pommel of his sword came down on Odin’s head.
And, with a great sense of indignity, Odin passed out.