Powder And Shot

Purgatory Wars: Book Five

Dragon Cobolt

Uruk Press

Uruk Press

Great Britain

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Powder And Shot © Dragon Cobolt 2018

All rights reserved.

The right of the author to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.

Cover by Remy Malara.

Also from Dragon Cobolt

Purgatory Wars

The Murder Stroke

Riposte

The Cross Guard

The Blood Groove

Powder And Shot

"Statues And Suitors" in Sex & Sorcery 4

Worldshard

Cadet

Cadre

Champion

Other works

A Fetch Job

"The Last Mage" in Sex & Sorcery 3

Furicana

Devil May Care

Also from Dragon Cobolt

Powder And Shot

Prologue

One

Two

Three

Four

Five

Six

Seven

Eight

Nine

Ten

Epilogue

Also from Dragon Cobolt

Valkyrie Vs Valkyrie

Worldshard

Powder And Shot

Prologue

The last time that Simone had eaten pancakes this uniquely terrible, she had been in her home town’s iHop, five days before the health inspectors closed it down. She looked at the flat and faded cakes, slathered in cheap butter and bacon grease, and wondered if it was a good idea to go through a stargate on an empty stomach.

She had been making Stargate references all month, and not a single other person in the staff had laughed. Every egghead, jarhead and brass-balled motherfucker who she had made a crack about ‘Goa’Uld’ with had looked at her with a completely blank expression. She stabbed her fork into the pancake and forced another bite down the hole. Across from her, Technical Sergeant Bobby Martins was cramming the pancakes away while flipping through the specifications on his RPAS-98B. It was a few scales up from a Predator and a few steps below the Starship Enterprise.

“Hey, LT,” Martins said, looking up at her. “Can I ask you something before we go?”

Simone nodded. She knew some under officers – especially those with their Westpoint rings still shiny and new – who would have fainted at the idea of even an NCO asking them any kind of private question. But Simone had dragged her ass through years of hell with the triple targets of being Asian, a woman, and queer as fuck as a common soldier. But here she was, just shy of thirty, and she wasn’t just a Ranger (one of the first female Rangers, to boot) and wasn’t just an officer.

She was also one of the first Americans – military, civilian, or otherwise – who was going to set foot somewhere that wasn't Earth since 1972.

That didn’t mean that she wasn’t going to deck Martins if he asked the same stupid-ass question she had been getting since she stepped out of Fort Benning.

Instead of stupid-ass, Martins just went right to the second question she was hoping not to get asked: “Is it true you punched the ex-President in the face?”

“No,” she said, simply.

She had been fielding that question for the better part of a year and was godallmighty sick of it.

Martins nodded, then shook his head as he flipped the technical manual shut.

“Hey, I didn’t vote for ‘em.”

Simone stuck her fork into her pancakes and decided that she’d rather spend her last morning on Earth making sure that it wasn’t her last morning period. She picked up her plate, gave it to one of the cooks who worked in the mess, then started down the corridors of the corner of Fort Flashpoint. Set up in the wild deserts of Arizona, near the still faintly glowing craters from the atomic bomb tests of the 50s and 60s , Flashpoint was made to be two things.

The first was hard to spot. It had the best counter-orbital surveillance technology that the United States could throw at it. It was mostly underground but it had mesh netting, radar reflective paint and a conventional base built about fifty clicks away to draw attention, everything.

The second was totally secure. This was demonstrated by the fuck-off machine guns that had been positioned behind curved metal plating and bulletproof glass windows. Bored looking enlisted men sat behind them, ready to turn everything in the corridor past them into red hamburger. They came to attention and saluted as Simone walked by. She nodded to them and let them slip back into the mind-numbing tedium of watch. The first intersection split – one way went to the laboratories that had been set up and prepped once the mission went underway. The other went to the armory. There, the twelve soldiers who had been selected, each from a different branch and specialization in a halfway point between bureaucratic dick waggling (“Leave my marines out? Like hell you will!”) and logical extrapolation of the requirements of the mission.

Simone found that she hadn’t been the only one to think of this – and was a bit relieved. Each soldier in the armory had years, if not decades, of experience in being the best men (or women) in the worst places the world could throw at them. They were all lucky on the genetic throw of the dice. None of them had been sick for years, each of them were the top of their physical health. Other than a few minor disorders that were compensated by a level of skill and by a cold blooded risk evaluation, they were all the best that the United States could find.

That included the eggheads. Though Simone sometimes broke out in a cold sweat at thinking about Dr. Cole. She was the best geologist in the field, had the required minimal family attachments, security clearance, basic physical health, and basic level competence in firearms (actually, she was a high sight better than several other members of the science team, being from rural Nebraska.)

The thing that made Simone nervous was that Dr. Cole was diabetic. One of the new, top of the line implanted artificial pancreas sat in her gut. But if that got damaged (and they were more fragile than the organic kind), then Dr. Cole would starve to death surrounded by rations.

But hey, geologist wasn’t mission critical, and Dr. Cole had agreed to the dangers, so…

She went through the stargate.

Simone focused on her chief NCO. Even on a team this small, someone had made sure to cobble together the basic command structure of the military. Her second in command, Sergeant First Class Baker, was the man in charge of turning her orders into nitty gritty ‘you go here’, ‘you do this’ minutia for the rest of the troops. He had been pulled from the SEALs and seemed to think that she, as a Ranger (and possibly all the other uncomplimentary things that Simone was used to dealing with), was barely worth breathing his air. But like any good NCO, he was able to conceal that under a flat affect. Though, Simone thought, it was possible that he had that affect no matter how he felt about his CO.

If that was the case, then she was just being a deeply cynical woman.

She nodded slightly to him – he caught her meaning and looked to the rest of the team. “All right, everyone. Let's start humping the kit to the operations room.”

Within five minutes, the military branch of the operation had gotten their rifles, their ammo, their drones, their rations, their tents. Everything.

Within thirty minutes, the science team had gotten their gear together. Their physicist, their biologist, their surgeon, their sociologist, their geologist, their astrophysicist, all of them with their own idea of what had been absolutely required. The initial lists had been five times as long, and the months of preparation had weaned them slowly down to just a preposterous amount of gear. Simone looked at the pile with an emotion that had once been dread.

But now it was just resignation.

Dr. Cole stepped up to Simone and smiled. “Shall we go over any final notes, Miss, uh, Lieutenant Fong?”

Simone nodded. “All right,” she said, turning to face her men. They were standing at ease – rifles slung around their shoulders, packs on their backs. “We’re going to be heading through first to secure the landing site. Remember, the gate has a divergent landing pattern. Since we’re going through with a one second delay between individuals, the eggheads say that we shouldn’t have more than a fifteen mile difference between landing points. If you can’t check in...” She held up her point to point radio. “Then fire off a flare only if you are in immediate danger. We don’t know what natives we’re going to be running into. We don’t know what their technology is, what their culture, what their language is. All we know is that an American citizen is on the other side. We’re going to bring him home and we’re going to make a great big leap for science.” She grinned. “And if you see any weird snake things. Shoot em.”

“Weird snake things, LT?” Corporal Tanye North asked, her hand going to her rifle.

“It’s just a general piece of good advice, Corporal,” Simone said, rolling her shoulders as she started towards the gate.

The gate itself was not impressive. It hadn’t been impressive when Simone had first seen it, several months ago. Time hadn’t made it seem more intimidating. Take a ring of magnets, wrapped in copper cable like the dynamo of some kludged together electrical engine. Blow it up to be the size of a garage door and connect it to what seemed like every power cable in the world. The complexity was, according to Dr. Fairchild, the team’s astrophysicist, came in the application of energies.

However it worked, Simone knew the basic upshot.

Exotic particles were created and smashed together, creating a rapidly spinning whatsamajiggit that punched a hole through the fabric of space time and would let humans bridge almost four times ten to the ninth power kilometers in a matter of seconds. Faster than light travel to alien planets. It was everything Simone had ever dreamed about when she had been ten.

A warning siren rang out.

“All right, everyone,” Simon called out. “Goggles on.”

She quickly snapped some goggles over her face. The thick, misted lenses made the world seem slightly denatured, as if someone had leached just a tiny bit of color from them. The gate started to whirr. Power cables sparked. Steam hissed from heat-sinks as water boiled while in contact with conductors ramping from room temperature to white hot in a matter of seconds. The whole gate shook with the effort as a whining sound that screeched along the back of Simon’s hearing burned through her brain.

Finally, the gate reached its climax.

Shutters mounted along the interior of the ring snapped open. Exotic particles smashed together in the exact center of the gate. The goggles filtered the blinding colors out of Simon’s vision, leaving only the visual effect of the storm of energy. A pale blue-white sphere exploded out with a sound not unlike a cracking whip, a sound that made her want to flinch and duck for cover. She schooled her expression to remain perfectly still as the swirling sphere flexed and bobbed and rippled with tiny perturbations. She wasn’t sure what they were, but she was sure that Dr. Fairchild would have some kind of long-winded explanation that had too many syllables and jargon for her to follow.

A green light – so similar to the light used to signal the beginning of a paradrop that it almost made her feel comfort rather than terror – flicked on and Simone stepped forward.

First in.

She walked forward, her jaw so taut that she could feel her teeth aching.

And then…

She was ripped to pieces.

One

The docks of Babylon – the largest city in Purgatory – thrummed with activity, day or night. Pickpockets stole through alleyways, cutting purses and filching coins or crinkly paper money from unwary traders and merchants. Prostitutes, many of them daubed with the shining blue face-paint of the Guild of Venus, walked the street.

And, of course, conspirators muttered and whispered.

These particular conspirators met in a beerhall that sat in the seediest part of the dock district. A thin, leaky tile roof that had been perfectly sufficient when Babylon had been a desert city was now supplemented by buckets set out to catch the sluicing, magically generated rain that poured down onto the city’s massive farms (the city itself was struck more by accident than anything else.) The only barmaid was a lilin who served any who tossed her a coin but hissed whenever someone asked for something more. She stepped past the table and the robed and cloaked figures, setting down several more mugs of ale.

Then she was off again, leaving the conspirators to their quiet muttering.

“Another five hundred,” one said – his voice was soft and raspy. It was as if, at some point in his life, he had screamed and screamed and screamed until his voice had shattered like a dropped vase. It still hadn’t recovered. “They’re in the Babylonian Navy, with fancy uniforms and walk as if their shit don’t stink. As if the whole war hadn’t happened.”

The other hooded heads bobbed.

“How do we act, though? That lizard bitch has everything sewn up tight. Remember the sniper?”

Each of them paused, contemplating.

“I do remember the sniper,” the third man from the right said. His hand – a circular pockmark graced the space between two of his knuckles. Despite the best healing the city had offered, his middle finger and ring finger refused to quite work properly. His knuckle clicked as he drew his hand into a fist. “His mistake was he tried taking out the Free Lord when he was in the city.”

“But when will he leave?” Another conspirator – this one, a woman – hissed.

The door to the beerhall swung inwards. The sound of the rain ratcheted up several notches and the members of the conspiracy all swung. As if expecting the Cross Guard to come tumbling in with pistols and swords drawn, the conspirators tensed to spring up and flee. But rather than heavily armed and armored members of the Babylonian army, the only person who came in was a robed woman. Her tail dragged along the ground – as red as the lilin bartender’s.

She sat down, then leaned forward.

“We have an opportunity,” she whispered.

“What news do you bring?”

They didn’t use names.

The woman fished out a parchment, then slapped it down. It was torn from a larger scroll. The printing press that had stamped it out had used cheap ink, and so a few droplets of the rain had pushed and smeared out the lettering. But it was clear enough.

The conspirators read.

And one by one, they began to grin.

***

Sunchaser sprawled in his hammock, his wings spread to catch the warmth that filtered through the ceramic walls of his watch station, and tried to not feel smug as he looked down on the storm hammering Babylon. The clouds looked like geometric patterns and when viewed from above, it was clear to see the magical lines of blue light that transcribed their formations. The worst of the storms were located in the farmland surrounding the city – well, best, if you looked at it from the point of view of a plant.

Plants were desperately thirsty. 

The door to the watch station opened with a rattle and rasp. It, like everything else, was made of ceramics and carved magical runes. The hinges were glazed ceramics, fitted together and greased to make them easy to turn, while the actual structure of the door was layered plates, interlocking to cover every single possible chink or hole.

Opening it let in the almost unfiltered sunlight beyond the watch station and made Sunchaser throw up an arm to shield his eyes. Then the door closed and his partner started to take off her protective helmet. Smoked glass, crystal, ceramic plates attached to flexible cotton, all of it covered in heat resistant runes and temperature control. Sky Cutter had both refused to change her name when the tribe had integrated with Babylon and refused to bow to anything like ‘practicality’ in the face of her style.

Hence why every time she put her gear on, she had to wind up almost two feet of blonde hair up and crammed it into her helmet.

But the upside was that she looked uniquely lovely as she tossed her head and let her wild mane of glittering blond tresses cascade down her shoulders as she folded her wings behind her.

“Sunchaser!” Cutter snapped.

“What?” Sunchaser blinked, then sat up. He grabbed his dog-eared copy of The Villainous Conquests of Grand Admiral Thrawn and his Heir to the Empire of the Galaxy by Timothy Zhan, translated by Kapes the Scribe, and jammed it underneath his hammock. As the hammock was made of laced together rope, this proved to be a less than perfect hiding place. He spread his left wing as Cutter tilted her head to the side to try and get a better view of the cover.

“Are you reading?” she asked.

“No!” Sunchaser squeaked.

“We’re on duty!” Cutter snapped.

“We’re on stormwatch duty,” Sunchaser said, his cheeks flushing. He was defending himself, but his gut and his heart knew he should feel guilty. He squirmed as Cutter – still half armored – stomped forward.

“What if one of the vortexes overloads! An entire quadrant of our farmland could be drowned!” Cutter slapped the top of his head. As both were valkyrie, she didn’t bother to pull her strength. The blow sent Sunchaser sprawling to the ground, his face mashed against the bottom of the watch station. The whole structure – suspended in microgravity and rooted in place via a complex webwork of spells – wobbled slightly.

Sunchaser groaned and pushed himself to his feet. He looked out the window, his expression sullen. Then he brightened. “Ah! See?”

The storm below was starting to flash as the magic started to overload in specifically designed ways. A storm could create a great deal of energy by natural means – spinning winds and gathering static electricity could be channeled into different magical spells, or could be fed back into the storm itself to produce a continual feedback cycle. Like most feedback cycles, this was inherently unstable and would eventually cause the storm to self destruct.

The mages who had designed it had taken that natural inclination and used it to end the storm just like clockwork.

Gathered energies surged into the vortexes that poured rain down onto the deserts surrounding Babylon and snapped them apart. The clouds wobbled like a plate of rendering fat in a soup...and then dispersed. They scudded away from Babylon, as if flung away by gods.

But there were no gods at work. Only men.

Sunchaser beamed as he looked down at the city. The old city walls had been knocked down to celebrate the return of a victorious army bearing the (mostly symbolic) corpse of Sysminor, the false god. The new buildings sprawled past the original walls were a mixture of those that had been constructed on firm grid-like patterns and those that had been simply thrown up wherever. Bribed officials, sloppy engineering, mistakes in planning. Whatever the cause, it looked like dough after someone had slapped down a grid pattern cutter.

The docks had been expanded as well. The harbor of Babylon, which had already been one of the finest in Purgatory, now had a pair of artificial piers flung out that served both as a place to dock many more ships – ranging from old style triremes and longships to the newest sailing ships that had been knocked together by ever shipwright who had pawed through the three Patrick O’Brian novels that had been part of the Library of Vanderbilt.

There had been frustratingly few exact details, but a great deal of inspiration, and now, there was a heady race from every merchant and shipwright to see which one could build the perfect ship first.

Surrounding the outskirts of the city were the farms. These had been mercilessly organized and directed by the Free Lord and his offices to ensure that nothing was wasted. With a massively expanded population and the rest of Purgatory still ravaged by the War of the False God and the continuing civil war between the factions of the Dodekatheon, Babylon could not rely on grain imports like it once had.

Sunchaser smiled.

Then Cutter slapped the back of his head again – gently this time. “Idiot!”

Sunchaser blinked and started as he realized that a light was winking up at him from Watch Central. The large tower had a wide array of bronze mirrors, and they used them to catch sunlight (or torchlight at night) and wink them at the watch stations overhead. The coded flashes were easily translated, but Sunchaser still had to furrow his brow as he tried to catch up.

“Observation report request...” he muttered. “Sector 40-20.”

He looked at Cutter. “Obser-”

“I saw it!” she snapped, then hurried over to the side mounted mirror controls. The mirror mounted on the side of the watch station was one of the few parts of the station that wasn’t ceramic. That meant it was very hot – this close to the sun, it wasn’t even cool to touch during the night. She started to work the control – hardened clay clicking and clacking as cams, leavers, shafts worked in the wall. She read from a scroll showing the Morse Code signals, muttering under her breath.

“Observation report request. Sector...”

“40-20,” Sunchaser said, reaching down to tuck his book safely away.

“All right.” She sighed. Then, with a snarl. “I’m still going to report you, you know.”

Sunchaser groaned.

***

Fizit frowned and looked down at the report from Watch Station 40-20. The script was spidery and cramped and full of the kind of spelling errors that she was used to sifting through. She didn’t even notice the fact that ‘fire’ had been spelled ‘fyire’ and that ‘troops’ was missing an O or that cannon was spelled with two Ks. Instead, she just read what was there and what was there was enough to make her tail lash like a metronome. She snarled and then resisted the urge to tear the report apart with her claws.

Venting her frustration on papyrus would be a pale imitation of venting her frustration on a real, live person. She had some bloody fantasies, starting with Ares and working her way down to the least of his lackies. She stood her stool scraping as she pushed it back. Then she walked around her desk, scooping up her paper and starting for the door to her office. She opened it and saw that both of her guards were looking strained. They were both human, and they wore simple cloth uniforms, muskets (ceremonial, for the most part) resting at the ground beside them.

It was the look on their faces that made her slitted eyes narrow.

Then she wheeled around. She narrowed her eyes at a bit of curtain that was twitching slightly. The large silk curtains were decorated with the symbol of Babylon and had been put in place after Hierophant Mary had, with a note of exasperation in her voice, pointed out that she’d have an easier time convincing visiting dignitaries to respect her and the Free Lord of Babylon if his palace didn’t look so…

Spartan.

The figure behind the curtain froze.

Fizit stalked forward, her worries focusing down into a single moment. She knew that the wrong move, the wrong step, would spell doom for her. She couldn’t trust the guards. It was clear they had been bribed. But she was a canny woman. Years of being a spymaster had come after years of being a spy. Changing her side hadn’t changed that. And so, she leaped aside as the curtain flipped open and grabbed the form that darted at her.

“Awww!” Brax squealed as Fizit swung her son up and away from the floor. Her son was…

Odd.

But Fizit would have cheerfully disemboweled the first person who remarked on it. She held him and beamed at him and wondered what on Purgatory had made her lucky enough to have him in her hands.

He looked, at one year, roughly the same as a three month old. That would be for one of her kind. But Liam, the father, had said that he was closer to the human five year old. It had seemed logical to her that a mix between a lizardfolk and a human would have something near the midpoint of their ages, but it had produced nothing but confusion and muttered speculations from Liam about biology and impossibilities.

Well.

If he was impossible, Brax was her impossible. His face was human-ish, flat without a muzzle. But his eyes had the curved ridges of a lizardfolk, and his hair was interwoven with the long, flat scales that served as a lizardfolk’s ‘hair.’ More, his hair was closer to her coloration than a human’s: Blues and greens, mixed and flashing. His shoulders had a few more scales, but most of his arms and chest were pale, pinkish human skin.

He had a long, thin tail, which twitched from side to side as he stuck his extremely long tongue out at her. “Nyaah! How’d you catch me, Mom?”

“Practice,” she said – then forced herself to remember her job. “And you should be with the tutors.”

“I hate the tutors...” Brax muttered.

“I know, honey,” Fizit said, then set him down. She shot a glare at one of her guards. “And you! You’re supposed to send him along.”

“Sorry ma’am,” the guard she transfixed with her glare said, his face like carved granite. “He was too stealthy for me.”

Fizit made a face. Bribed, without a doubt. Brax could bribe anyone by just being too fucking adorable. She knew it. That was why it was slightly less effective when he tried to be cute at her.

Slightly.

When she sequestered little Brax with his adopted sister, Marion, Fizit had to jog to get to Liam’s offices. She jogged past the meeting rooms for guild representatives, the administrative offices where taxes and payment rolls were kept. She jogged past the cartography office, where the reports from the watch stations that were suspended like a necklace of jewels around Purgatory’s sun were turned into the finest maps that had ever been crafted on Purgatory. At last, she came to the office itself. The guards there saluted and let her by, and once she was in, she found Liam frowning as he held up a parchment.

Liam Vanderbilt had changed from the first time Fizit had seen him.

The first ‘glimpse’ she had had of the man had been a hazy collection of intelligence reports and whispered comments from spies. They had described a blond headed giant of a man who towered over the average Purgatorian, bearing an enchanted sword and a magical tome full of a thousand books. They had talked about a frightening skill with arms and a fiendishly clever mind, matched with a kind heart.

She hadn't expected her first real glimpse of him to be Liam standing naked except for a tight, white thong that was groaning under the stress of keeping his immense package covered. Part of Fizit was actually happy about that little oversight in her intelligence gathering. Uncovering that package and the delicious feeling of shock, awe and raw lust that it had set off inside of her remained a treasured memory.

A lot of those other early whispers had been right though. Liam remained the biggest man that Fizit had ever met. His shoulders were broad and slabbed with muscle, while his face remained boyishly handsome even with the addition if a few nicks and scars. The only thing that marred him, really, was the stump of a foot he had resting on the broad desk. His other foot was unharmed, but the artificial foot that had been crafted for him by Hephaestus sat beside the desk like a discarded shoe.

The flesh of his injured looked utterly smooth, as if his foot had been plucked off and placed in storage. There was a bit of a callus that had been built up in the place where the curved stump pressed against the leather and metal of the artificial foot, but other than that, it was smooth.

“Hey Fiz,” Liam said, casually as he looked over the paper. “How does this sound: If you don’t remove your troops from the Barrier Mountains and return to the border agreed on, we will take punitive action first on the trading field, then on the battlefield.” He frowned. “Too harsh? It sounds kind of harsh to me.”

Fizit frowned, her tail twitching from side to side. She crossed her arms over her breasts and sighed. “I think it sounds harsh, but those Thorites are one bad day away from just openly raiding our trading caravans.”

Liam frowned, considering. “They’re mostly refugees.”

“They’re bandits,” Fizit said, her voice flat. “The refugees come to the city itself and pay taxes.”

Liam sighed. “All right.” He set the paper down. “I’ll send it by valk to the mountain passes. Uh, what’s up?” He set his feet – foot – down and sat up. His lips quirked in a slight smile. “Our little terror didn’t escape from the tutors, did he?”

“He did,” Fizit said, her smile breaking across her face despite her best efforts on the contrary. “But, uh, no. I’ve got another observation report from the Hellenic League, and it’s bad.”

She set the report down. It had come from Watch Station 20-40. Each watch station had two valkyrie (as they were the only ones who could reach and man them.) Because there were a limited number of valkyrie who could draw with any sense of accurate scale or speed, Fizit had quietly made sure that the best of them were in the watch stations that hovered, perpetually, over the vast jungles of the Hellenic League.

The scroll had been slightly singed in the drop from the helioproximal level of Purgatory’s atmosphere, but the middle was dominated by the lines of a battlemap. No detail beyond the elevation markings and the disposition of forces, which were marked with rectangles using specific symbols that could be drawn and recognized quickly. Liam frowned as he leaned over them, his brow knitting.

“Fifteen thousand musketeers?” he muttered. “Ten cannon, five thousand cavalry, these numbers are insane, how the hell is Ares getting these many troops? How is he feeding them?”

Ares. The God of War. The mastermind behind the False God Sysminor. He had been a thorn in Liam’s side for years but Fizit’s tribe had been kept under Ares boot-heel for decades. Shaped and honed into his army via the puppet Sysminor, they had been the forefront of the attempt to conquer Purgatory. But with Sysminor’s death, everyone had expected Ares to resume being Zeus’ pathetic lickspittle son. Instead, he had split the Hellenic League and the Dodekatheon in two and had been waging war against his half-siblings and father.

Everyone had expected it to be one-sided. War god or no, Ares was still only one god.

Instead, his troops were now ringing around New Athens.

“Those walls can’t take those cannons for long, even with Zeus’ tricks,” Liam said, frowning. “We’re going to be sucked into that war again soon.”

Fizit nodded. “That we are.” She didn’t say what she was thinking: We should have joined months ago. But both she and Liam knew that.

And both she and Liam knew why they hadn’t. 

Liam rubbed his hands against his face. He groaned and leaned his elbows against his desk. “We can’t win a war without the support of the people – these new taxes aren’t exactly the most popular thing in the universe. The Guilds are hammering at my door for more freedom to make magical wares and firearms. And let's not even get started on the various cults and churches that each want to have the others banned.” He smirked, sliding his hands away from his face. “At least no one is actively trying to murder me anymore.”

At Fizit’s expression, Liam sighed.

“Who is actively trying to murder me now?”

Fizit smiled. “Agent Rao infiltrated one of the groups.” She spread her hands. “She’s fed them some intelligence that you’ll be leaving the city soon.”

Liam frowned. “I... will?”

“You will,” Fizit said, walking over, then sitting her rump on the desk. She grinned. Like a predator. “And I’ll grab them up when they try to assassinate you. I don’t want to wait like that madman with the musket.”

Liam made a face. He leaned slowly back in his seat again. “Do we have their grievances? Maybe we can resolve this before it gets to murder?”

The door to the room opened. Liam tensed – and then relaxed as he saw who it was.

“Oi! That’s my seat!”

Fizit blinked as she was unceremoniously picked up and a new form slipped underneath her. A pair of hands cupped her breasts through her shift, squeezing her playfully as Megara Vanderbilt purred against her cheek.

“But I am willing to forgive you,” she whispered, her voice hot against the side of Fizit’s ear. Her fingers found and tweaked Fizit’s nipples through her thin silk. Fizit squirmed and writhed, her tail coiling around Meg’s belly. The valkyrie woman was, in many ways, incredibly similar to Fizit. Like Fizit, she had an astounding rack. Like Fizit, she was muscular. Like Fizit, she was utterly unashamed of her sexuality. In that case, the differences that were there – the lack of tail, lack of scales, lack of feathers and lack of frills – seemed so minor as to make them near twins.

“Meg, I’m, ah, trying, ah, to... ahhh!” Fizit moaned as Meg tugged gently on her nipples. “Woooorrrk!”

“I know, that’s why I swooped in to save the day,” Meg said, chuckling. “It’s time for dinner, Liam.”

Liam blinked. “It is?”

“It was technically dinner a half hour ago,” Meg said, her hands sliding from Fizit’s now tingling breasts to her belly. “And you can’t just eat lizard pussy for dinner. Breakfast? Sure! Brunch? Totally. But dinner? That’s just absurd.”

Fizit gasped. Meg’s fingers, questing and devilish, had slipped between her thighs. Her shift crinkled and scrunched upwards, fabric tugging against the grain of her scales, revealing the puffy softness of her labia. Her sex was already moist, with just a few squeezes, caresses, and whispers purrs. Fizit hadn’t been entirely prepared, when she had started living in the Vanderbilt household, how quickly Meg would be able to rev her up. It had been the fifth most pleasant thing she had discovered about working here.

Fizit clenched her jaw as Meg’s fingers slipped into her sex. Meg grinned wickedly as she whispered in her ear. “So, you two ready to cum with me and get something in your bellies?”

Liam watched with a tolerant grin. “Meg.”

“Yes?” she asked, voice sweet as the fingering she was giving Fizit. By this point, Fizit’s hard nosed exterior had started to peel aside against the pressure of a single dexterous finger grinding against her center. She felt the growing heat buzzing in her, spreading outwards from her sex in waves. The pleasure wasn’t merely the raw sensuality of Meg’s touch – it was also contained in the warmth of her arms, the playful tone of her voice. The way that Liam watched. It was a heady mixture of emotions that Fizit was still getting used too, even after a year.

“We were discussing some affairs of state,” Liam said. “You know, the usual. Assassination, attempted destabilization of all we have built, Purgatory wide conquest, that kind of thing.”

Meg scoffed. “So, a Tuesday?”

Fizit gasped out her pleasure – and then forced herself to speak. Well. More ejaculate between moans of orgasmic bliss. But if that was what it took to deliver an intelligence briefing – getting fingerbanged by the most sensual valkyrie on the whole of Purgatory – then that was a sacrifice Fizit was willing to take.

“Their grievances, ahhh! Are, um, ohfuckyes, that... ah, the fact that you’ve integrated both my tribe and Meg’s tribe into the city after the waaaa-aa-arrrr!” She rolled her head back, her tongue flicking the air as she trilled. Her tail twitched hard enough to almost crack the air like a whip as she shuddered in Meg’s hands. Said hands had gotten busier and busier with every word. Now, Meg was cupping and squeezing a single bared breast, tugging on Fizit’s hard nipple as she had added her thumb to work in the fingerbanging. Specifically, she was rubbing her thumb in a slow circle – with just enough pressure – against Fizit’s hard, eager clit.

“Racist dicks!” Meg exclaimed – a phrase that she had adopted from long exposure to Liam. Fizit personally found the whole concept of racism a baffling one. Of course there were differences between different races. Pointing that out wasn’t bigotry, it was just common sense. But she had decided to shelve that argument for another day – and right now, she was so languidly satisfied that Liam could have smacked her in the face with his dick and she wouldn’t have blinked.

To be fair…

Liam, though, wasn’t looking interested in getting his monster of a cock out and into her. A shame. But the spymaster that lurked, sleeping with half an eye open underneath Fizit’s limp pleasure was happy to see Liam thinking. He rubbed his chin with his thumb and shook his head.

“They have a point,” he said.

That jerked Fizit upright and provoked such shock from Meg that her hand closed tight enough against Fizit’s breast that it provoked a squeak of pain from the lizardwoman.

Liam held up his hands. “Hear me out. Brax’s army occupied this city and enslaved its people – they used Babylon to make the weapons they would then use to try and conquer-”

“Under duress!” Fizit said, squirming out of Meg’s grip to stand. Her knees quivered as she clenched her hands. “Liam, if we hadn’t done it, Sysminor would have turned our bones into radium and ripped our hearts out! You know what he could do with the Codex.” The words were familiar on her tongue. She had said them to herself, a lot, while laying in bed at night, wondering how she had gotten here. She had hissed them to a furious Liv and a coldly distant Tethis.

“Which he didn’t have until your men found it for him,” Liam pointed out, drawing her focus back to the present.

“Fine, but even without it, he was still a god,” Fizit said. At Meg’s glare, she coughed. “Of a sorts.”

Liam leaned over his desk and clasped his hands. “That’s not entirely an excuse. ‘I was just following orders’ doesn’t excuse atrocities. Or crimes against humanity.”

“Well, humans and lilin and elves and-” Meg started.

“Crimes against sentients, then,” Liam said, his voice holding a tiny edge of annoyance. Meg, seeming to realize that her light tone hadn’t been taken well, flushed and closed her wings behind her back. “Mass executions, crucifixions...”

Fizit felt every last bit of her good mood drain out of her. She crossed her arms over her chest and frowned. “Fine. But if we start down that road, how long before you have me on trial?”

Liam flinched as if he had been slapped. He put his hands over his face and leaned back in his seat. The wood groaned. “You’re the mother of my child,” he muttered, his voice soft. “But...”

“But?” Fizit felt her belly growing colder. When she had first become Liam’s spymaster, she had made plans. Schemes. Ways to get out, if things went bad. She hadn’t been sure how they might, but there had always been reason enough to scheme. Now, the idea of bringing those plans out of storage filled her with dread.

Liam groaned. “Fuck. Why are things so complicated?” He dragged his hands off his face, leaving furrows where his fingers pressed to his skin. He groaned again. “Remember the good old days, when I was just an adventurer, fighting monsters?”

“Most of the time, you were homesick, terrified, or worrying about if banging the baker was cheating on me,” Meg said, grinning with playful maliciousness.

“Oh, right,” Liam said, chuckling. “Thanks for reminding me, Meg, life was always shitty.”

“You’re welcome, honey!” Meg said, her voice so full of sugary sweetness that Fizit had to laugh. She felt some of her tension uncoil further as Meg continued: “You’re also feeling grim because you haven’t had dinner. Come on. Let’s go eat something slightly more appetizing than Fizit’s pussy.”

Liam smiled. “Can we still have Fizit's pussy for appetizers?”

Meg pursed her lips. Cocked her head. Considered. Then she closed her wings around her back and nodded, as solemn as a queen accepting an invitation to dance.

***

Dinner was delicious. With the new farms and the slow recovery of trade – not to mention the mixing of several cultures across Purgatory – the meals were fresh and always surprising. Liam wasn’t entirely sure what went into the sugar crystals and seared meat that he was eating, but it tasted divine. Fizit sat across from him. Meg next to him. Brax was next to Fizit, while little Marion was tucked under Fizit’s arm, her mouth fastened to Fizit’s nipple. She slurped and sucked happily – and Fizit looked faintly amused.

Liam chewed on his bite of steak and noticed Meg pouting at Fizit.

“It’s not fair. Lizards aren’t even mammals...” she muttered enviously as she looked at Fizit's mammaries.

“I hatched from an egg!” Brax said, cheerfully.

“No, you didn’t,” Meg said, snickering.

“Sure I did, Mom Meg,” Brax said, then grinned up at her, his tail whipping back and forth .”That’s why my head’s so hard! The tutor said so!”

Meg scowled. “Did he now?”

“Were you not doing your work, kiddo?” Liam asked, sticking his fork into his meal and letting it rest there. Brax blushed, then looked back at his plate.

“Yeah...” he said. Meaning, of course, no.

Liam reached over and tousled his son’s hair. His son. It still didn’t feel real. And yet, he couldn’t imagine a life without him, or Marion. He looked down at his plate as a dark snake writhed through his mind and sank its fangs into his heart. If they vanished, it wouldn’t change much, would it? He sighed. He saw his son and his daughter at the beginning of the day and near the end. The rest of the time, they were with tutors and wet nurses. Fizit had a bit of milk left from the short time she had spent nursing Brax. Apparently, lizardfolk had litters of kids... usually. But that didn’t mean that she was free to feed Marion whenever required.

As if she could read her mind, Fizit looked at the door, her hand cradling Marion’s head. “Is Liv going to come by?” She spoke the words as if they were required – not as if she actually believed them.

“Or Tethis?” Meg asked. She also sounded resigned.

The dark snake had gone from fangs to constricting his heart. Liam forced the feeling down, then set his fork to the tabletop. He grinned and said: “Well, no. Liv’s practicing her swordwork and I think Tethis is still, uh, working on the healing spells. The new ones.”

The awkward moment slipped past and the other started to eat. But Fizit caught Liam’s eye. Liam shrugged one shoulder, as if to say: Well, what can we do?

Fizit, as part of her job as the spymaster for Sysminor, had needed to do her job well. Like it or not, it had been her only choice. She hadn’t even felt particularly guilty at the time, paying men to assassinate Tethis. She had said so, once, when Liam had asked. But now? Liam wasn’t sure how she felt. And he wasn’t brave enough to ask. But Tethis had made it clear what she had thought. She had never visited the manor once, not while Fizit had been there. Every time Fizit left for business, Tethis had come by. And as Fizit was a spymaster, not an actual agent, that happened once in a blue moon.

Hell, Liam hadn’t even touched Tethis in what felt like a year. Tethis. The first person he had met on Purgatory after Meg who hadn’t been trying to kill him.  One of his oldest lovers. He had been overjoyed when she had survived her assassination. But just as he had gotten her back, he had lost her again.

Liam felt the discord like a splinter in the brain – but one that he didn’t know how to remove. But as he looked at the empty space in the table it made him think about the empty space in his home and the empty space in his heart... and the empty space in his city.

“Anubis,” Liam said, breaking into Meg’s conversation.

“Well, no, I don’t think we can have Anubis for breakfast...” Meg said, making Brax gasp and start to look excited at the idea.

“No, no,” Liam said, grinning. “I know how to kill two birds with one stone.” He leaned forward. “But it may require a bit of a trip. And, fortunately, the trip’s one we need to take anyway.”

Meg perked up, and Brax’s eyes shone with excitement.

“No, you can’t come.”

Brax pouted.

Two

Sea spray spilled over the nose of the Morrigan’s Kiss and washed across the deck. Foam and warm water alike sluiced past the toes of bare-footed sailors – burly humans, scarred lizardmen, a single elf who looked as if she could still barely believe that she was there, and a few goblins hurried about the deck. They tended to the wild profusion of cables and lines that connected to the sails, keeping them in position to catch the endless trade winds that rushed across the face of the Platonic Sea.

Kailey loved it. She held the wheel of her ship and felt her thrumming through the waves. Every plank felt like it was in alignment, and the new way of rigging the sails seemed to catch the wind better than the last. And there wasn’t a single crew on the oars, which were stacked in the hold. Hopefully never to be used again. Her hands squeezed the wheel tighter as she closed her eyes to thin slits.

She felt, for the moment, like a bird on the wing. A hunting bird.

A sharp bang came from behind her. Kailey opened her eyes, then looked back over her shoulder at the forecastle. Smoke roiled from the cabin that she shared with Quinn.

“You alive back that, Q?”

“Yes!” Quinn’s slightly dazed voice came from the doorway.

“Is anything on fire?”

The delay was just long enough to make Kailey nervous. “No!”

Kailey nodded again and then looked forward, port, starboard, and up. The Platonic Sea cupped her ship like a palm filled with water, with dry land providing the horizon and the skies. The sea itself made it easy to see any ships that were far enough away to clear the waves and the mist, but those that had fallen above  the horizon could be easily seen. Especially if they were built with low hulls. She had noted several ships that might have been near, but most of them had moved in convoy and had the sleek, broad tipped look of warships.

And the Kiss didn’t go after warships.

Thaddious – a broad shouldered human whose face had met a trident at some point in his violent life – hurried over to her. His puckered cheek and split lip and missing eye made his grin extra horrific. He looked down at her, as he topped her by at least three feet, and put his hands on his hips.

“Captain, we hear a song coming from distance – sounds like Hellenes.”

Kailey leaned slowly back, letting herself hang from wheel. Her eyes half closed and she felt the spark of power that crackled in her breast. She caressed it with her mind, feeling the thundering excitement. The power she had been born with was urgent, desperately eager to be used. Kailey held it on a taut leash. She had never wanted to be her mother’s puppet. And that was what happened to those who became too dependent on the gods.

They became puppets.

She opened her eyes and saw that a spectral raven was now seated on the ship’s wheel. Crackling blue claws dug into the wood and a beak as sharp as a sword gleamed, pitiless black eyes set in feathers made of pure energy glared at her. Kailey gestured with one hand, a tossing motion, and felt her view snap from herself to the raven. She laughed a harsh, crowing laugh as Thaddious looped an arm around her shoulders to keep her from falling flat on the deck.

She looked like a child in his arms – a child in size, if not in proportion. And no human child had ever had green skin. But Kailey preferred not to look at herself when she was in the raven. The call of the sky was too strong. She beat her wings, caught the thermals that rose from the Platonic Sea, and soared upwards in a spiraling arc. She looked outwards and upwards, craning her head around. There was the sun, there were the tiny black specks of the thrice damned Watch Stations that made attacking any Babylonian ship nothing more than a slow motion suicide.

And there was the ship that they had heard. Hidden by the curve of the waves and its own low deck, it looked like it was in trouble. One mast had broken, the wild tangle of canvas and ropes making it clear that the sail design they had tried had either failed spectacularly, or the captain hadn’t managed to get them reefed before the blow last night. Either way, she could see the crew were all humans and they were working hard to try and correct their course. The ship rode low in the water, though. Low enough to make her think…

Treasure.

Kailey risked it. She beat her wings and shot towards the ship. She soared over the deck fast enough to catch the sounds of the voices – translating the Greek as easily as she could breathe.

“Get the wreckage cleared! God commanded us, we shall not fail him!”

“Amen!”

Ah, she thought. One of them.

Her wings beat and sculled and she came around into a dive. She slammed into her own body and her eyes opened – the transition from large raven to only slightly larger gobliness as natural one way as the other. Thaddious had set her down carefully, and Quinn had joined him. Quinn was, in many ways, her opposite. She was the stereotypical goblin, always streaked with alchemical oozes or gunpowder or bits of oil and grease from the tinkering she got up too. Her hair had gone sheet-white during her failed attempt to ascend the ladder of hermetic magic in the university of Brigid, and she had never dyed it. Kailey wasn’t sure if that was because she had simply never had the time, or if she had utterly forgotten her hair was unusual.

“Kay?” she asked.

“There’s a ship!” Kailey dragged herself to her feet. “Men! Ready weapons! Quinn, are you ready for some plunder?”

Quinn frowned and considered. “Well, no. Not really.”

Kailey made a face at her.

“I mean... yes?” Quinn said, then flushed. “I mean, very yes! I love plunder! I am a pirate who likes... plunder...” She trailed off, her forced grin growing more strained with every moment.

Kailey chuckled and shook her head. She reached out and cupped Quinn’s cheek. “Nice try, love. But I’ll need your magic for this – it’s a Monodeist ship.”

“Ares?” That did perk up Quinn. “Oh, I’ve heard stories! Let me get my notes!”

She turned and rushed off.

As she rushed, Thaddious glowered after her. “What do you see in her, captain?”

“I have no idea,” Kailey murmured, her eyes settled on the firm, heart-shaped rear jiggling and bouncing away from them.

Thaddious grumbled. “You can find that in any tavern.”

“Oh, are whores regularly educated in the first three circles of hermetic magic and have a passing knowledge of alchemy now?” Kailey asked, her voice acid-sweet. Thaddious had served long enough to recognize that tone and so he did the smartest thing that a first mate could do. He bowed, then turned and started bellowing orders at the crew.

Within a short time, the Kiss was cresting the wave and barreling towards the crippled Hellenic ship.

As they approached, the sails belling and crackling against the wind, Kailey breathed in, centered herself, and tried to use the methods that Quinn had taught her. Magic required a specific set of gestures and words, a kind of focus, one that told the power that filled Purgatory to do as you wished, rather than what it wanted. It could knit bones and bring down thunderous lightning. It could even snatch someone from one place to another – though that required a shrine built by the Ancients for that purpose. For those with a foci (something built by the Ancients) it could be done easier.

Kailey never could cast. The magic of the Ancients turned up its nose to the New Gods and to their children, as both had been banished to Purgatory to get them out of the hair of the Christian church. According to legend, they had been too feared on Earth, and so had been bundled off to this enclosed sphere, where they and their human and lilin followers (those who had chosen banishment over conversion) had met and warred with elves, goblinkind and lizardfolk.

But in the end, lust was sparked almost as much as wrath. Hence why Kailey’s mother was The Morrigan and not some gobliness.

But The Morrigan’s power could be controlled and refined and enhanced, Quinn had claimed. Meditation and focus had their uses even if the Ancient’s magic would never spring to Kailey’s hands as they did for her lover. She breathed in again, then out again. Her heart beat slower as she felt the power her mother had bequeathed her. She started to push into it, then expand it outwards. In. Out. In. Out.

Like the tides.

Like the bellows of a forge.

In. Out. In. Out.

The feathers that grew through Quinn’s hair – a natural reflection of her parentage – started to glow in time with her breath.

The crew saw it and cheered. As they cheered, they threw the grappling hooks. The Hellenic ship had managed to wallow to the side, enough to try and present their ram. But the Kiss was being piloted by one of the best helmsmen on the ship (other than Kailey, of course.) He kept them at a distance as grappling hooks bit into wood and ropes began to strain, dragging the Hellenic ship out of ramming formation.

“Come on, lads! Pull!”

From the other ship, a call came: “Ready! Fire!”

The crackling roar of a half a dozen muskets filled the air.

“No.”

The word was a simple one and it came with the last of Kailey’s breath. She had stoked the power within her to its height. It roared like an inferno. The ancient hero Cúchulainn had been... unfortunate. When the riastrad, the warp-spasm, came to him, it came uncontrolled. Unrefined. Untempered by a focused mind. Kailey’s skin did not twist inside out and her bones didn’t burst from her back like red tipped spears. Her blood did boil. Steam exploded from her mouth and her eyes flared like coals in a forge, and her small body did seem to grow almost twice its size. She moved forward, blindingly fast, and drew her sword in a single, twisting motion.

An explosion of water rose from the horizon that curved upwards behind the  Hellenic ship, and the smoke from the muskets exploded away from an invisible line of force that she had cut through the air.

The crew standing to either side of her gaped as musketballs rained into the ocean – stopped by crashing into the sweep of her blade.

Kailey grinned, her teeth sharp.

“R-Re-” the enemy master-at-arms started, before his voice died in a gurgle, his back slamming into the deck. A full ship’s length had separated them, and he looked faintly disbelieving at the bronze blade plunged through his ribs. But as Kailey was the one standing on his chest, she supposed that was proof enough. She stood, leaving behind smoldering foot prints on the deck behind her, steam hissing up from the water spilling over the decks.

“Who’s next?” she growled.

“God wills it!” a man with more eagerness than sense rushed forward, bayonet glittering on the end of his crystal musket. He thrust. Kailey caught the bronze tip in her palm, bent it inwards and slammed him to the deck in the same motion. She kicked him in the side of the head, parried another bayonet with her other arm, drawing a knife from her belt. She plunged it into a man’s throat as she walked past, then slit another man from belly to chin with an upward sweep of her sword.

She had to hold back.

She didn’t want to break another set of blades.

The men around her were starting to back up, even as arrows thudded into the deck around her. Her crew had a few good archers, and they loosed every few moments as Hellenic soldiers fell and screamed and died. Then a knot of them wearing the thick cloth armor that Ares had settled on for his newly expanded armies stepped to the side.

Behind them was a Paladin.

Kailey’s razor sharp teeth glinted as her lips drew back in a steaming grin, starting to roil around her bared feet as she stood on the deck. “Good.”

The Paladin was a woman – human – but she was clad in a combination of flexible cloth, hardened crystal plates, and bronze that had been shaped to interlock and protect joints. The crystal itself was covered with a white cloth surcoat that had been decorated with the golden throne symbol that Ares had adopted. But what made Kailey pause was the sword the woman held.

It was made of metal.

A silvery, pale metal that glittered and glinted. It lacked the hues of bronze and copper, and yet it looked just as sturdy and just as sharp. She held it up in one gauntleted head and pointed it at Kailey as the two ships rocked against one another, pirates roaring as they started to leap over the railings. A few muskets cracked, swords clashed, bayonets thudded into wooden decks as their thrusts were deflected. But Kailey only had eyes for the Paladin.

She had heard stories.

They could take on ten men at once.

They could breathe fire.

They could fly.

They were blessed by the one true god of Purgatory. The one true god of the whole universe, the one who had made it all.

“Throw down your weapon,” the Paladin said, her voice muffled by her helmet. “And your death will be painless.”

Kailey rolled her shoulders. Then she flicked her wrist with the strength and speed of her riastrad. Her knife flew out, cutting a glittering line in the air, before the Paladin brought her sword up. The two blades met and Kailey’s shattered into a thousand fragments. Then the Paladin was moving – her body vanishing with a crack like a gunshot. She appeared five feet to her left and two feet forward, her feet skidding on the deck. But as she rushed forward, she vanished again, and again, appeared a short way off, her sword flashing as she rushed past Kailey.

Their blades met and Kailey was flung backwards. Even twice the size she normally was, she was overstepped by the other woman by a head. And more, the Paladin struck with the force of her war-god’s blessings. The impact sent Kailey tumbling and only her own enhanced reflexes got her back on her feet before the Paladin could casually impale her. Kailey ducked, then kicked out. Her leg caught the Paladin in a leg joint and bronze squealed as it was bent.

The Paladin slammed her helmeted head into Kailey’s. The impact set the pirate captain’s head ringing, riastrad or no riastrad. She staggered, then rolled away as the Paladin brought her sword down in a two handed stroke that split the railing and a good chunk of the deck. Wood splinters flew upwards, stinging across Kailey’s forearm. Then, moving with lightning speed, the Paladin swung her blade upwards and in a curving arc. Kailey’s sword met it and sheered in half with a spray of sparks. The impact sent her sprawling backwards. She skidded and came to a stop against the body of one of the Hellenes.

“God wills it,” the Paladin snarled, her voice coming in sharp pants as she advanced forward. Her boots thumped and clunked on the wooden deck, though her bent knee-plate meant that one leg had to drag rather than bend. She lifted her sword.

Kailey grabbed up the dropped musket of the Hellene and threw it like a spear. The bayonet hit the shoulder plate of the Paladin and the whole musket shattered, hard crystal going up against harder, thicker crystal. It still sent the Paladin staggering enough that Kailey could spring to her feet.

“Kay!”

Kailey risked a glance. Quinn was staying on their ship – thank the gods! - but her hands were twisting as she worked her fingers, muttering the focus words. She had been thrown from the hermetic school because of her, ah, reasons unrelated to her education. The magic she called formed and crackled into the shape of a flaming sword. She tossed it to Kailey and it was borne on a curtain of rippling air.

If Kailey’s own blood hadn’t been boiling, if her body hadn’t been blazing hot, she was sure the flaming hilt would have scorched her. As it was the sword felt utterly at home, and she brought it around and locked hilts with the Paladin. The Paladin forced her backwards. The strength of Ares and the Morrigan warred through their respective representatives. But Kailey felt her arms burning, then buzzing... and then pushing forward. The Paladin gave step by step, her whole body trembling.

Then her sword gave.

The burning blade in Kailey’s hands sunk half into the strange metal of the Paladin’s weapon, then sheared through with a flurry of sparks before biting deep into the woman’s side.

The Paladin’s eyes widened under her helmet’s visor. She made a gurgling noise, wavered.

Fell.

And as she fell, the last Hellene was cut down by Thaddious. The pirates looked around themselves, shocked at the savage fury of not only the enemy’s resistance, but at the end result. Not a single Hellene had survived to be ransomed. Kailey drew her power back into herself. Her blood cooled. Steam stopped trickling from her pores. She shrank slowly from her enhanced height to her normal one – her skin feeling taut, her bones aching. The deck stopped smoldering underneath her feet. And the flaming sword she felt faded to nothingness as Quinn scrambled awkwardly over the pitching, rolling decks.

“Are you okay?” she asked, desperately.

“Not even a scratch!” Kailey said, ignoring the many tiny scratches and bruises. “See to the men.”

Quinn closed her eyes. Counted to three. Then nodded and turned. As she rushed off to begin healing, Kailey shook her head and brushed her palm along the arm that had been covered with splinters, knocking them out. A few had sunk in enough to require her to pick them out. She hissed each time as Thaddious walked over to her.

“We have the deck – lots of muskets, and their shot too.”

“It’s the hold I want to see.”

Thaddious nodded. The two of them walked towards the hatch that led to the hold – and then Kailey held up her hand. Her feet slipped slightly on the blood slicked wood of the deck, but she didn’t take one step closer to the hatch. Something about the lack of a lock caused her paranoia to scream to life. She looked back at the crew and the bodies. She smirked.

“Oh, I hate it when you do that,” Thaddious muttered – but it was too late.

Kailey had thought, earlier, that this power should be kept on the leash. And it was true. She’d go weeks - months, sometimes - without calling on it. But when she used it once, the second time was easier. And the third? Oh, the third came like she did when Quinn got her head between her legs. Her fingers crooked as the magic of her mother flared through her arm and one of the less badly dismembered corpses twitched, wriggled, then started to stand. Eldritch blue fire crackled from their sightless eyes as they shambled like a drunk towards the unlatched hatch. Their uniform had turned almost red from the blood pumping from their neck wound.

Thaddious glowered at the scene.

Kailey stepped behind him with a wicked grin.

The corpse flipped open the hatch.

The rain of blood, bone, body parts and organs splashed across the deck like a breaching wave. Thaddious was soaked from his bald head to his bared toes. He spluttered, gagged, coughed, and an untouched Kailey stepped around him, skipped to the open hatch, then swung herself down into the hold with a cheerful whistle.

When her feet hit the hold’s deck, she almost balked her belly and breasts against something large and looming. A moment later, a still dripping Thaddious landed next to her, holding up a small stick with a glow-crystal attached to it. Pale blue light shone and Kailey breathed in a short, sharp gasp. The light glowed off long, thick tubes of pure crystal. Each one had a smooth hole bored in the front and a smaller one at the back, with firing pins made of bronze clockwork – finer than any work she had seen in her life. There were mountings shaped from wood and bronze along the edges, for wheels, though said wheels were stacked in the far back.

Kailey was almost afraid to count.

“Thirty six,” she breathed. “Thirty six cannons.”

The Battle of the Blood Groove had been famous for the twenty guns of the Cross Guard, whose cannonfire had rained down on the army of Brax the Golden. Each of those guns had been named in the ballads and the songs. No battle since, even in the grinding brutality of the civil war tearing the Dodekatheon apart, had matched it for the sheer amount of artillery. And here was almost twice that number.

“Dear gods,” Thaddious whispered.

Kailey walked past the guns, looking them over. She had never seen cannons up close, but she knew the basic idea. Jam gunpowder in the back, slip a ball down it – marble was popular, but stone could work too. Crystal was said to be the best, but the difficulty of chipping crystal into a sphere was well known. Lead was popular as well, but the alchemical process that created it was difficult and expensive…

“Quinn’s an alchemist,” she whispered. Then she saw that she had some time – the chests past the first of the cannons were filled with cannonballs. She brushed her finger along the metal, trying to feel what it was made of. But she wasn’t an artisan, she couldn’t tell.

“Captain!”

Thaddious had walked past her to another chest. His cry drew her attention and she rushed over.

“What are these?” he asked, holding up something strange.

“It’s an Ancient artifact!”

The pair turned to see Quinn coming down the hatch, her hair smeared with blood. “I didn’t manage to save any of the Hellenes, but Strap won’t be missing a foot,” she said, her voice distracted. “By Brigid’s titties, what is this?” She took the artifact from the Thaddious hands. Thaddious looked sulky, like a baby with its favorite new toy stolen. But before he could whine, Quinn started to eyeball the artifact.

To Kailey, it looked like a slave collar without a clasp and without any flexibility. A curved C shape made of solidified crystal and black metal, terminating in a pair of disks. Those disks would go over the temple on a human – though on a goblin, it would slide right off.

Quinn tested the give on the artifact, finding that it bent outwards, but not inwards. She whistled.

“Do you know what it is, Q?” Kailey asked, caressing her lover’s hair gingerly. She knew that Quinn would never wash her hair while something new – be it book or artifact – was waiting for her eyes. She’d have to crumble the blood out once it dried.

Quinn bit her lower lip. “I have no idea.”

“Well, put it on then,” Thaddious said, his voice gruff.

“Are you sure that’s wise?” Quinn asked.

“Of course!” Thaddious said. “These are weapons – these are cannons, cannonballs. Those casks contain gunpowder if I don’t miss my guess. This is a supply barge for the Hellenes. Not sure what they were doing so far off course, but there’s the breaks.” He shrugged. “Not sure why that idiot Ares didn’t just ship them overland.”

“Do you know how heavy a cannon is?” Quinn asked. She was normally a gentle soul, but even she could see through Thaddious’ irascibility. She started ticking off points. “They can weigh almost a hundred stone! And they’re not like the steel or iron cannons of Earth, these can shatter if they drop wrong!” She scoffed. “A ship can carry fifty cannons across Purgatory in a week, while an army might still be waiting for them after a month, and lost a quarter of them to accidents.”

“Better than losing all of them...” Thaddious muttered.

But then it clicked in Kailey’s brain. She had to check her thinking, though.

“What are the sides in the war again?” she asked. “It’s Ares and the gods he’s cowed into bending knee versus Zeus and his brothers, right?”

“Yeah. Zeus, Hades, and Pos-” Quinn’s eyes widened. “That storm last night wasn’t natural, I bet. It blew out of the Hellenic League hard enough to almost demast us. It did demast this ship. And Poseidon might have lost his sanctum and his home city, but he has worshipers enough. He could make the currents slip this ship even further than wind or wave could.”

“That’d buy them time. These are guns worthy of shattering a city’s walls...” Quinn rubbed her face. “By my count, Ares’ army had, eh, five, six cannons.”

“Your count,” Thaddious looked skeptical.

“The army’s visible on the horizon!” Quinn snapped. She looked at Kailey. “Ares will pay through the nose for this. Or Lord Vanderbilt! Or Thor! Or-”

She stopped when she heard Kailey’s giggle. The giggle became a laugh and the laugh became something close to utterly megalomanical. Kailey rolled her head back and leaned against her cannons as her shoulders shook and she wiped a tear of joy from her eye.

“Thaddious,” she said, her teeth glinting in the pale light of the glow-crystal. “Get the crew ready. We’re looting this ship. And get the charts for Melos and start plotting a course.”

“But-” Thaddious started. Then he stopped, then bowed low. “Yes, Captain.”

He hurried off.

Quinn looked confused. “Kay, we can’t use these. And we can’t sell them to Pleon. He doesn’t have the coin to buy cannons. Our ship-”

“Our ship is our ship,” Kailey murmured. “And we just took the oar positions out. If we went into Melos for some time, we could refashion those into something befitting this new age. We have enough gunpowder. And you? You’re an alchemist.”

“I am...” Quinn blinked. “I never made gunpowder before.”

Kailey grinned. She grabbed her lover’s hair, not caring if blood smeared her fingers. She dragged her close and the two goblins met in the darkness and closeness of the hold. The smell of battle overhead was washed away by the smell of the salt sea and the tang of gunpowder in the air. It smelled like victory. Quinn never took the lead while kissing, which suited Kailey just fine. Her tongue probed the other woman’s mouth like a man’s might have.

But Kailey remained softer and more knowing than a man would have been. Her breasts pressed to Quinn’s smaller ones, her hands cupped and squeezed Quinn’s rump. Quinn whimpered into the kiss, her eyes closing tight as she lost herself in the excitement of the moment. The stereotype was that librarians and mages were detached from physicality.

The truth, at least when it came to Quinn, was that she was quite a sensual being.

She just needed to be smacked in the forehead with her body’s needs to go: Oh. Right! I need this.

When Kailey drew her mouth back, she could see the eager glint in Quinn’s eyes that said that smack had been delivered.

“To the cabin?” Kailey whispered.

“Uhhh...” Quinn looked at the hatch to the deck. Then, with her hands grabbing her shift, she whispered. “Nah.”

The slight lift and then jiggle of her breasts as they were freed never ceased to drive Kailey wild. There was a delight in being the smaller partner, when it came to making love with other people of other races. But this moment, shared between her and Quinn, was unique. Not only were they the same build and the same height, but they often felt like they shared two halves of the same soul.

Quinn proved it by looking down at her own breasts, cupping and squeezing the firm, green orbs. “Yes. I have really nice breasts, now that I think about it.”

Kailey snorted, then grabbed her lover and dragged her close. She leaned forward and teased Quinn by kissing the flat expanse of her chest, then darting up to nuzzle and lick at her chin. She kissed her lower lip, sucking on it gently as Quinn began to pant and whimper. The faint rocking of the boat faded. The dimness of the hold faded. Everything faded as Kailey dragged her teeth along Quinn’s lower lip, freeing her mouth to fasten around Quinn’s neck. She bit and sucked at the same time, and through her hold on Quinn’s hips, she could feel the other woman’s knees quivering.

Well.

Kailey knew how to fix that. She took Quinn to the floor of the hold with a simple twist and roll, ending up on her back with Quinn straddling her. Kailey’s back was tough enough to absorb the impact and ignore the splinters, which freed her up to cup Quinn’s shoulders and draw the other gobliness over her. Quinn’s breasts swayed with the motion of the ship and the movement of her back, and her moans joined the song of the sea as Kailey fastened her mouth around one dark green nipple and sucked. Her hands slipped along Quinn’s back, taking her time to feel every inch of her alchemist.

She didn’t know exactly what Quinn did to keep coarse sea salt from leaving her back and exposed skin as weathered as old leather. But the result spoke – or at least slithered – against Kailey’s rough, battle scarred palms. Quinn gasped and moaned and rolled her head backwards, her pale white hair cascading along her shoulders. “Kailey...”

“I’m not hurting you, am I?” Kailey’s voice was as soft as the slick noise that Quinn’s sex was making against her belly. The heat of her. The wetness. Kailey couldn’t help herself, she started to push and lift Quinn up and over the mounds of her own breasts. Quinn let herself be moved. But her voice was shy.

“I... I love your scars, Kay...”

Quinn’s sex lowered to kiss against Kailey’s mouth and at this moment, she knew heaven. Her eyes closed and her tongue lapped against her lover’s sex, tasting her warmth and her flavor. It was a fierce, almost painful tang against her tongue. Going without Quinn’s pussy meant that when Kailey went down on her – or had Quinn sitting on her face – she tasted intensely enough to bring tears to Kailey’s eyes.

She drew her mouth back, gasping for air, and reveled in the closeness of the other woman’s green thighs enclosing her head. “Gods, I went without this for too long...”

“W-We, ah, made love, ah, this morning,” Quinn said, sounding bemused – and dazed and out of breath, all at once.

Kailey found a perfect rebuttal for her university educated lover.

She leaned up and dragged down in the same movement, her rough fingers digging into the pliant, giving flesh of Quinn’s ass. Her mouth pressed to Quinn’s pussy and her tongue plunged in deeply enough that Kailey felt an ache at the base of her mouth, and it still wasn’t long enough or far enough. Her nose ground against the hard nub of Quinn’s pussy, and Quinn mewled, then wailed her pleasure out. The fact they were still in the cargo hold of an enemy ship made no never mind to her.

As her back arched and her whole body jiggled, Kailey drank the nectar that flowed liberally from her cunny.

She was almost able to not hear the sound of Thaddious’ voice.

“Cap! Cap! Cap!”

Kailey withdrew her head from between Quinn’s thighs, sitting up as Quinn burbled random, incoherent sentence fragments – things like ‘oh my that...’ and ‘well, that is, uh...’

“What!?”

“Dreller is asking why we’re not putting a prize crew on this ship,” he said. “Dreller says-” 

Quinn panted, softly. “Sink it...” She breathed. “The Monodeists might have riddled this thing with who knows how many magical traps.”

Kailey nodded. She had guessed as much. She sprang to her feet, then started out of the hold. She sprang up and into the sunlight and the drying blood of the deck of the ship. “Crew! We’ve got loot and we’ve got plunder and we’ve got a bastard lot of hard work to-” she scowled. “What are you snickering at, Cian!?”

One of her human crew flushed and schooled his features. “Uh...” He gestured vaguely around his face. “Got sommit on your lip, Cap’n.”

Kailey blinked.

Three

The bedroom of Liam Vanderbilt’s palace was filled with a soundscape that beggared the imagination. Moans and cries, gasps and pants, the slick contact of flesh and tongues. The drip of arousal.

Mary gasped and threw her head back, her hair slicked to sweat strands that plastered themselves to her forehead and shoulders, dark black against her crimson skin. Her skin itself gleamed as if it had been freshly oiled – the lubrication of raw lust. Her sharp fangs hooked her lower lip as she ducked her head forward, writhing her whole body. Like a snake. The motion caused her breasts to bounce and jiggle as she ground her sex against Liam’s face and his questing, oh so experienced tongue.

Mary was a lilin – and the Hierophant of Babylon. But her normal duties in navigating the complex ecclesiastical politics of a city with almost as many gods as it had guilds were left at the door. Along with most of her official outfit.

Most of it.

Her wimple – soaked as her hair – remained on her head, though the edges that were normally flush with her cheeks were in disarray and her hair had escaped from the upper fringe with her wild bucking. Meg crooned as she watched her face. But Meg was watching through slitted eyes – as she was herself riding Liam’s cock like a pro. Her legs were spread wide and she bucked herself up and down, up and down, her breasts bouncing in a wild, fast pattern compared to the more sedate writhing of her friend and fellow lover.

Liam’s hips didn’t so much thrust up into Meg as they tried to match her excitement. His cock – still the biggest, thickest, most impressive cock on Purgatory – spread Meg’s cuntlips wide and his balls slapped against her ass with every passionate thrust.

Liam’s eyes were closed and he was mentally recounting every tiny, dry factoid he had read today. Not to keep them in his mind – he had scribes for that. No, he was trying his best to keep himself from climaxing deep inside of Meg before she had-

“Liiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiammmm!”

-cum at least...twice more. Liam closed his eyes and coiled his tongue up to rub against Mary’s most sensitive spot. The effort paid off with a gush of the aphrodisiac that Mary’s kind secreted when aroused. Or nearby other men. Or when they breathed. Mary shuddered and her fingers pressed against Liam’s broad, muscular chest, her fingernails digging in as she kissed Meg with the wild abandon of a woman truly lost to the orgasmic pleasure flowing through her.

The two women’s tongues met and sparred, and Meg reached up to squeeze and grip Mary’s left breast, her other hand finding Liam’s and squeezing it almost hard enough to crack bone.

The moment seemed right. With one last lick, from the base of Mary’s cunt to the very top, almost teasing against the cleft of her ass, Liam let himself go. The pleasure he had been holding back only by long, long practice surged through him and his vision turned almost white. His eyes half closed and he made a rough, animalistic noise. The noise of a beast, finally finding satiation. He shuddered and came, and felt Meg’s pussy accept his seed as she continued to moan and mewl into Mary’s mouth.

The two women kept kissing as the raw passion of sex receded in slow, quivering waves. Liam himself felt utterly drained, floating on the basking pleasure of the afterglow while Mary continued to drip-feed him her nectar. He licked it up as she casually sat on his face, gasping and panting and trying to get her own self under control. Her tail lashed from side to side as she breathed heavily, then put her still gloved hand to her crucifix.

Those two elements of her outfit had been what she had first wanted to remove.

It had been Meg who had purred: Leave ‘em on. I like remembering you’re supposed to be a Christian.

Mary had stammered theological counter arguments.

Between kisses, of course.

Slowly, the two women laid beside Liam. Each of them positively dripped with sweat as they sprawled against him and let the faint breeze of the open window steal across them. Liam felt his own heat recede against that wind. Deserts got cold rapidly, but Babylon was no longer quite the desert city it had once been. Heat from the tightly packed homes, open cookfires, the factories, all of it combined with the greener and greener hills surrounding the city to leaven out the harsh shifts in temperature that made deserts so killer.

Mary slipped a red finger along his chest, tracing the lines of his muscles. Her dark red lips – almost black in the dim light – kissed a bead of sweat. Meg sprawled  on her belly, with her rump facing him. Her head hung over the side of the bed. Liam knew that she was testing herself. He reached out to gently caress her rump. He was here for her. Meg groaned, then growled, then jerked her head up. She gasped.

“Ah, fuck...” She made a quiet, queasy motion. “O-One second!”

She scrambled out of the bed and ran off, dripping cum on the stone floor behind her.

Mary clucked her tongue softly. “No luck on curing it?”

Liam shook his head. Meg had been injured during the final brutal battle of the war. A part of her brain, the part used to help her internal balance and flight, had been wrecked. Tethis, despite doing her best, had yet to devise a cure for something so small and deeply rooted and complex. The end result was that Meg had been without the true ability to fly for the past year. Normally? Normally, it had remarkably little to do with her day to day life.

She walked, rather than flew. Some Valks sneered at her for her ‘deformity.’ But Meg remained roughly the same cheerful girl that she had been when Liam had fallen madly in love with her. She still seduced the occasional handsome lad or pretty girl she met while traveling about town. She still adored both of his children with a fierceness that made Liv’s standoffishness with Marion seem all the more unnatural by comparison.

But then there were times like this.

Where she would test herself and find herself wanting. Liam knew that she would have two moods after a wave of nausea was dealt with. He gambled that she was in the mood to be comforted.

He had never, ever, taken the bet that she had wanted to be left alone.

It was easier to leave when unwanted, then to arrive when one was absent.

Liam came to the bathroom after Meg had finished wiping her mouth down. He did know for a fact that she hated being seen to vomit. It was just something valkyrie didn’t do. But afterwards... he stepped up behind her nude body and wrapped his arms around her belly. His hands stroked her and he nuzzled against the top of her head. It still amazed him that he was taller than her. When Meg was striding through a battlefield or a palace, in her fine clothes, with her wings folded behind her like a cape?

She seemed a giantess.

“Hey,” she said, softly.

“Hello, pretty girl,” he said, grinning. “Did you know that a wicked Christian is running around your house?” His hands stroked along her thighs, then dipped forward. He teased the light tuft of her pubic feathers. “You better get on his case. He might start converting people.”

Meg snorted, grinning at herself in the silvered mirror. Another new invention – a year before, it would have been polished bronze. As it was the only thing that reminded Liam that he wasn’t back on Earth was the lack of electric lightning and the fact that the bathroom still used a chamber pot. The palace was an old building, with thick foundations and thin walls. It would be a pain in the ass to add plumbing, while the sprawling new districts of the city were being built from ground up – he had directed the plumbing to go there.

“I may just need to find this man,” she said, turning to face him. She smiled, but it was a sad smile.

Liam took her hand, squeezed it. “When I head off to Uten-Ha, I’ll ask Anubis for any embalming records for valkyrie. Maybe those, uh, procedures will help guide Tethis.”

Meg frowned, slightly. “Do you have to go?”

“Anubis said he will come over the blinking stars – I can’t possibly ask him to come without an escort. And there are no ships better than Babylonian ships.”

Meg frowned harder. “Then can I come?”

“I need someone to-”

“Take care of the babies,” she said, sighing. Muttering under her breath. “Brax is almost old enough to take care of himself.”

Liam arched an eyebrow.

Meg smiled, shyly. “I did say almost.” She shook her head slightly – then wobbled. Liam put his hands on her shoulders, squeezing her and then enfolding her in a warm hug, his back pressing against her wings. She was so warm and soft. Her feathers were perfect. He closed his eyes and he nuzzled her hair.

“Tomorrow, I’ll be heading out...”

“Before you do,” Meg murmured. “Can you do one favor for me?”

“Sure, but I thought you were still looking for a good enough dildo,” Liam said, grinning casually.

“Not that one!” Meg laughed, then turned around. She punched his chest, gently enough to barely be felt. “No. I want you to talk to Liv and Tethis before you go. I...” she sighed. “It’s not right, this rift between Liv and Tethis and Fizit. I may have hated her guts, but she’s the mother of half of your kids! And Liv’s the mother of the other half.”

“Is that really all it took for you to forgive Fizit?” Liam murmured.

“Well, that and her amazing titties,” Meg said, cheerfully.

Liam smirked. Then he leaned in and kissed her.

In the end, he didn’t get much sleep at all, even with Mary trying to be the responsible one. She was moaning the words ‘we need to get up early tomorrow!’ even during her fourth orgasm.

***

There was a single action allowed within the long disused and now more than a bit vandalized temple of Ares. The paint was peeling and the gilt was gone, the priests having fled and taken up under new gods or goddesses - those that hadn’t been driven from the city for announcing their support for Ares’ bid for monodeism. But the temple persisted.

That action?

To cut.

Livianna of Sparta stood on the central dais and glared at a flame that danced in a brazier she had lugged through the city and planted back in its rightful place. The old brazier had been beautifully decorated. This one was the cheapest she could have gotten. She put her hand on the hilt of her sword, breathed in. In. In. She breathed in memories. Memories of love and loss, of confusion and anger. Of a cold certainty. Of a single moment where she realized just how utterly, how completely outmatched she was.

Her father was Ares.

And she was going to kill him.

With that certainty, Liv drew and slashed with her sword in a single smooth motion.

The flames did not even flicker.

Liv scowled at her sword. She slammed it back into the scabbard with a clunk, then drew it again, slashing again. She put every iota of her strength and speed into it. Elven reflexes, married to the half-divine blood flowing through her veins, it should have been enough. She had heard and read and listened to reports, delivered second hand from Fizit, about her father’s new powers. They shared no theme, no connection to his old purview.

What god of war could summon a lightning storm, or be seen in two places at once?

What god of war could heal the sick, or bless the needy, or cause crops to grow with the snap of his fingers?

Liv breathed in once more.

Drew.

And once more failed to match that blinding, impossible speed of his.

Instead, all she was getting was a sore arm, shoulder, back and head. No, not just sore. An intense migraine pounded between her temples. She growled, then drew her sword again, so sloppy that even a human might have disarmed her and run her through. Might. If he had been an exceptionally good one. Fury exploded through her and she spun away from the brazier and hurled her sword as hard as she could. The bronze tip struck the wall and smashed into stone about five inches above Liam Vanderbilt’s head.

He ducked and rolled away from the cloud of debris and the quivering hilt. He came up, his hands spread wide.

“Whoa!” he yelped.

Liv blinked at him. “Fucking knock!” she snarled.

“I did!” Liam looked at the sword, then at her. “Jesus Christ, are you okay?”

Liv snorted. Sniffled, actually. She hated that she was near to tears. She wiped at her face and shook her head. “No. The one man I ever loved is dead. He was killed by my father. You’re living with the woman who tried to get one of my friends assassinated. One of your friends. Said friend also won’t talk to me because the man I love was party to said assassination attempt.” She put her hand over face, growling. “Because of all of these myriad of amazing things going on, I’m just fucking peachy!”

Liam sighed. “Uh...” He looked like he was about to mention something, but thought better of it. If it was the something or rather someone - who Liv thought it was, then he made the right choice.

“And, worst of all.” Liv jerked her hand away from her face. “Worst? You...” She clenched her jaw, then clenched her fists, then screamed out something between pain and rage as she kicked the brazier as hard as she could. Coals and bits of flaming wood clattered across the abandoned temple floor as the brazier flew through the air and rebounded off the stern face of Ares painted on the wall. The fresco was peeling, but it was still intensely satisfying to see a spiderweb of cracks filling up what had once been Ares face.

Liam paused. “Training’s not going well, is it?”

Liv snapped her head up to glare at him.

Liam had this most annoying ability to look both hang dog and hunky enough that she both felt bad for him and wanted him to stop looking hang dog. After Brax, Liam was the man that Liv would say she... liked... the most. He had defeated her, back when she had been loyal to her father. Before she had learned that her conception had been more Hellenic than she had imagined – won not through romance or even trickery but rather through force.

The then untried, barely bloodied warrior had defeated her. And what had he done?

He had held her life in his hands, as a war-slave, and he had treated her with more compassion and gentleness than her father ever had. First, she had despised him for weakness. But…

Liv shook her head.

It took loving Brax, who had been the same mix of strong and gentle, to make Liv realize how much she had indeed liked Liam.

Not loved.

Liked.

She wasn’t ready for love again. And Liam was not Brax. He didn’t have Brax’s twisting mind, nor depth of confidence. Nor, she thought, his wild side. Brax had been as savage as she was, he had simply contained his beast. Liam was all puppy, underneath the muscle and swordsman stance. But sometimes, you needed a puppy. Liv looked up at Liam and readied herself for the hardest part of training.

“I can’t do it,” she admitted. The words came from her slowly. Painfully. Like teeth being pulled. “I...I’ve been doing nothing but training for a year. And I just. Can’t. Do it.” She put her hands over her face, rubbing her palms against it.

Liam stepped closer. His hands went to her shoulders. “You know, uh, Fizit and Tethis could help. Tethis is the finest scholar I know. And we’re dealing with new kinds of magic, things that Purgatory has never seen before.” Liv snorted, loudly, sliding her hands down just enough to see his expression. Liam made a face at her. “Fine, yes, I just want you three to see eye to eye.”

“I’d see eye to eye if they stopped being such unreasonable cunts,” Liv snarled. Her nose trickled with wetness and she hated herself for almost crying.

Liam snorted. Then his eyes widened. “Liv...”

“What?” She wiped at her nose. “I’m not fucking crying!”

“You’re not...” Liam said. “Look at your hands.”

Liv looked down at her hands.

They were streaked with blood.

Her migraine pounded harder.

“Oh...” she whispered. “Huh.”

Liv didn’t remember much about the trip to Tethis. She didn’t remember leaving the temple, though she did recall stumbling against a wall in an alleyway. She didn’t remember crossing around one of the large markets near the center of town, but she did remember the pain of her migraine as the noise of the market stabbed into her temples. She didn’t remember arriving at the small house with a wizard’s shingle out front. She did remember the expression on the gobliness’ face.

It started off with a cheery smile and an excited expression on seeing Liam. “Oh, hel-” she had started, then she saw Liv leaning against Liam. Liv had rolled her head back, opened her mouth to say something...

Then all she remembered was sprawling on a low slab. Tethis’ room was filled with scrolls and books and tomes and a small glow-crystal that provided a pale illuminations. Tethis and Liam were whispering to one another – but they had forgotten Liv was an elf.

“I may hate her,” Tethis whispered. “But I wouldn’t overlook a brain tumor. It’s not a tumor.”

Liam sagged, almost hard enough to drop him into the waiting chair set against the wall. Liv started to glare at the white stucco that covered the walls. This place was so... plebeian. Tethis was the court wizard of Babylon and she lived in this tiny place?

“Then what is going on?”

“I don’t know,” Tethis said. She looked at the table. “By Bastet’s tits, I would kill for one of those MRI machines you’ve talked about.”

Liam sighed. “Well, you can make illusions. Can you make an illusion that’s like an MRI machine?”

“I can work on it.” Tethis sighed. “But it’ll take time to get it working. But I can keep her alive, make sure the pain doesn’t get too bad.”

“And maybe stop being mad at her?” Liam arched an eyebrow.

Liv felt the sudden urge to pick up the biggest tome next to her and throw it at his head. She didn’t need him to fight her battles for her. She could beat Tethis all by herself.

Tethis looked to the side. “I still have nightmares, Liam. Four men, breaking into my place, stabbing me... do you know what it feels like to feel your life blood pouring out of your thigh?” She paused. “I spent months hanging between life and death and do you know what I saw? What I felt?”

Liam was silent for a time.

“Nothing.”

Liv blinked and craned her head up, her ears perking.

“Nothing?” Liam asked.

“No... no scales. No feather. No Ammit. Nothing but blackness and... and... and nothingness.” She shuddered from her pointed eartips to her toes.

Liam considered. “I’m no preacher. But, um, you weren’t dead. You were just being kept in stasis. No need for your soul to go anywhere, right?”

“That’s... that’s what I tell myself,” Tethis whispered, her hands sliding along her shoulders, trying to warm herself. She sighed, then walked over to Liv. She looked down at the other woman, her head cocked to the side. She held out her palm, channeling magical healing into Liv. It felt warm and fuzzy, and it washed away some of the pain that lingered inside of her head. “So. Having fun listening in on us?”

Liv scowled. “I wasn’t spying or anything. That’s more Fizit’s job.”

“Yeah, you were more of a passive accessory,” Tethis shot back, her voice growing sharp.

Liv felt the immediate instinct to strike back. That was how she had been trained – in social life and in combat. Instead, she bit her tongue and rolled her head to the side, not wanting to look at Tethis as she muttered. “Sorry.”

Tethis was silent for a while.

Then she sighed. “Well, I’ll get you something to drink. And keep working on an imaging spell.” Turning to Liam, her voice was slightly cheerier. “And you? You have a ship to get on, don’t you?”

Liam laughed. “One more thing before I go!”

“What?”

“How’s the work on the cure for Meg?”

Liv closed her eyes – letting the wash of words that came from Tethis move over her like a tide. She felt so very tired. So very sleepy. The lack of a migraine felt like a weight had been removed from her back and put, instead, on her eyelids. She closed her eyes tighter and let herself go boneless and limp. But as she tumbled deeper and deeper towards sleep, she was bothered.

Tiny flashes and sparks and motes of color seemed to dance in the darkness of her closed eyes.

She had no idea what they could possibly be.

But she was dolefully certain that they couldn’t be anything good.

***

“All hands, atten-shun!”

The voice of the chief petty officer of the BSN Constitution boomed out and brought every sailor to attention as Liam stepped off the gangplank. He looked around the ship with a slow, casual glance...and inside, felt his inner nerd squealing. The Babylon Surface Navy was a motley collection of triremes and longboats purchased from the Aesir and Hellenes during times of peace, and new ships being put together by Babylonian shipwrights. A mixture of cultures and technologies and magics, from every part of Purgatory and from distant Earth, had all been used to create the Constitution.

But the name had been all Liam.

Like her earthly sister, the Constitution had three layer wooden hull. They hadn’t the same white oak as the American eastwest, but experimentation and exploration in Purgatory’s rain-forests had found something that could withstand cannonfire to the same level. But the true pride and joy was the fact that she did not have a single mast or sail. Her decks were dominated by turrets for archers, musketeers and cannons to be used, allowing her to fire in all directions, with her lower gun-decks providing the broadside punch that sailing ships of the 18th Century used.

In the end, it was a terrifying amount of firepower, and the perfect sort of thing to sail through the Platonic Sea to the Pesdjeti kingdoms. There, they could pick up Anubis and bring him back home in style and safety.

The captain of the Constitution was a short, leanly muscled goblin man who Liam had met a few times before – Harold of Thorheim had been Aesir before he had moved to Babylon, and retained the long ponytail that was common there. The rest of him was all Babylon; the blue uniform of the navy was cut neat and trim, and he saluted Liam with the discipline that Liam’s naval board had hammered into their crew.

Liam himself had had no idea how to organize a navy but almost every admiral that he had managed to find for Babylon had adored every single bit of military history and protocol that had been stored on his iPhone’s broad range of books.

He had simply let them do as they wished, gave them the money to accomplish it, and watched.

“Welcome aboard, Free Lord,” Captain Harold said. “Do you wish a tour of the ship, or do you want to head to your state room directly?”

“A tour, if you’d be so kind,” Liam said, trying to not grin like a loon.

Harold, for his part, managed to restrain himself to a slight smile. But Liam could see the pride sparkling on his face as he walked Liam and his two bodyguards (hand picked by Fizit) along the decks of the ship. The crew went back to their duties the instant the boatswains started to blow their whistles, and the bustle of the ship filled Liam with heart. It wasn’t enough to have a cutting edge ship.

It helped to have a cutting edge crew too.

But then Harold led him to the steam engine and it took every bit of Liam’s two years of practice at being elected head of a growing city-state to not leap and shout: Fucking sweet!

The steam engine was made of carved and fitted crystal (for the parts that needed to be sturdy) and brass (for the parts that needed to bend.) The boilers were a pair of large crystal spheres, and the magic that had made them sturdy had also made them clear enough to see the water and steam within. The surging, boiling liquid writhed around a pair of small sparks of light that glowed brightly enough that it was hard to look directly at them. The steam rushed out to drive pistons and gears and connected levers.

“And they never stop boiling?” Liam asked.

“Never,” Harold said. “The real issue is when we need to sit still, like in port, or if we start running low on water for the boilers. Fortunately, it’s easy enough to get water in the Platonic Sea. Cleaning it with magic, then dumping it into the system is one of the tasks the crew has to do.”

Liam shook his head in wonder.

It was a simple idea. But to see it executed still made him giddy. Essentially, the watch stations that gave Babylon it’s perfect reconnaissance and communication had to be protected by spells as they floated so near to Purgatory’s miniature sun. Even when it was shut down during the night, that sun radiated immense amounts of heat.

That heat was shunted from the watch stations…

To at least two of these beads, sitting in the boilers.

“It’s more like a nuclear submarine than a 20th Century steamship,” Liam muttered.

“That’s what the designer told me,” Captain Harold said. “Though the more I learn about Earth, the more I think we need a lot of catching up.”

Liam shook his head. “You know, for the first year I spent on Purgatory, I thought that making references to technology and TV shows that no one else had ever seen would drive me crazy.” He grinned at the goblin. “Now, I kind of miss it.”

“I don’t,” Captain Harold said, chuckling. “I love those Drizzit books.”

Liam snorted.

The two of them turned, starting to head up and out of the engine room, leaving behind the fusion of Earth science and Purgatorian magic. Utterly unaware that, settled in the corner of the room, covered by a tarp and resting near a box of spare parts and machining tools, was a tiny keg of gunpowder. Affixed to the top was a dull, glowing crystal, etched with runes.

The runes throbbed and glowed as, in the city of Babylon itself, the conspirators clustered around the key that was tied to the runes. It looked like a thin dart of crystal with a simple rune etched in the middle. The woman holding it breathed slowly in, then out.

“This is for my son, you bastard,” she whispered.

Standing at the door to their hiding room was the lilin who had brought them news of Liam’s planned expedition to Uten-Ha. She wore a dark cloak that concealed all of her face, save for a fanged grin. She withdrew a small bomb from her belt pouch and tossed back her hood.

Agent Rao, one of Fizit’s oldest and best spies, tossed the bomb casually onto the table. It sparked once and exploded with a roar and a flash of light as Cross Guard kicked in the door, shouting and bellowing. Conspirators staggered and clutched at their faces. Many were clubbed to the ground. Others were kicked.

Rao stepped over, looking around. The bomb had been made to destroy magic as well as blind, laced with null-crystal. She saw bits of shattered crystal from the bomb casing and the key, spreading across the scorched table top. She nodded, then grabbed the blinded woman who had been holding the key. The woman coughed, gagged, swallowed to clear her throat, then choked out: “You bitch!” Her voice sounded as raspy as if she had eaten sandpaper. Considering she had been facing a flashbomb filled with null-powder, Rao couldn’t blame her.

“Hey, think of it this way,” Rao said, clapping restraints on her wrists. “At least your judge will be even handed.”

And she shoved the conspirator to the door, with the rest of the group of guild masters and disgruntled civilians.

Unaware that the key rested, not in fragments on the table, but deep in the woman’s belly.

Safe.

Waiting.

Primed.

Four

The Morrigan’s Kiss sailed into Melos with its standards flapping in the wind and its crew whooping, jeering and hollering abuse at the other ships that had cast up against the harbor. The world of Purgatory had changed in uncountable ways over the past two years, but Melos remained as Melos ever had been: hideous, ramshackle, prone to burning down, and the only place that Kailey and Quinn could find true peace. Quinn leaned against her lover as Kailey caressed her hair. The Tuatha demigoddess looked like she was already counting coins in her coffers, her grin wide and greedy. But Quinn was more contemplative.

“We’re not rich yet,” she said.

“Mmmhmm.”

“We’re going to need to suck up to Pleon the Fat,” Quinn muttered, her fingers touching one another in a fluttering pattern – tip to tip. She pursed her lips. “You should do that.”

“Because I can throw him through a wall?” Kailey asked, perking up.

“Mm, yes, that,” Quinn said, then squirmed. “Come on. Let me up.”

Kailey did no such thing. Instead, she held Quinn closer to her chest and kissed her cheek, then her neck, then captured one of her pointed ears. She sucked and nibbled, then, finally, released her. Quinn stood and adjusted her shift with a quiet humph. But she was smiling as she walked off, heading towards the forecastle of the Kiss. As she stomped off, Thaddious bellowed orders at the crew who were casting lines to the docks, while others leaped off the ship to tie down. As they worked, Kailey’s sharp, sharp eyes spotted a standard being borne by a slave with broad shoulders and bronzed skin. He was standing beside an open topped sedan chair carried by a quartet of ugly looking lizards.

It announced the emergence of Pleon the Fat from his little fortress at the heart of Melos.

Kailey sighed.

The lizards moved with steady, ground chewing lopes that didn’t disturb their master and owner. Their slave collars glittered in the brilliant sun, and were all the more obvious when they knelt to the ground and bowed their heads forward so that they could hold position without their arms wavering. By the time Kailey reached the edge of the Kiss, Pleon the Fat was already speaking.

Pleon the Fat was an example of what pure, pig-headed willpower could do to a man. Scarred and burned in some long buried vendetta, Pleon had cast off his name and his old allegiances and embraced the character of a pirate dockmaster. But what was most impressive was his single-minded obsession with gluttony. He was eating grapes as he spoke, spitting seeds into a metal bowl held by the standard bearing slave – and the efforts of his hard work bore fruit in the folds of fat that surrounded him, the bulbous swell of his neck, the rolls of his cheek.

It was all the more impressive that Pleon was an elf.

“Well, well, well-” spit, tink! “-if it isn’t my favorite sapphic marauders-” spit, tink! “-returned from bringing down the wrath of the one true god on my-” spit, tink! “-poor head. Oh, what words do you have to excuse this trouble, this woe, this-” spit, tink!

“Have tales of our exploits traveled so fast?” Kailey asked, trying to sound polite. She was worried her disgust was curling her lips against her will.

Pleon grinned. The combination of obesity with the normally narrow frame and lithe built of an elf was nearly as off putting as the glistening grape-juice that dribbled from his stained purple lips. But none of it had anything on the ugly burn scar that covered his forehead.

“The world’s curvature did not hide it. Lord Vanderbilt isn’t the-” spit, tink! “-only man with a telescope.”

Kailey ducked her head forward. Her mind worked quickly, calculating the angles. She grinned slowly, then lifted her head up, already about to speak. Then the hatch to the cargo hold burst open and Quinn thrust her head out, gasping. “Kailey! Kailey! Kailey! I figured out what the torcs do!”

She ran forward – then skidded to a stop when she saw Pleon.

Pleon spat another seed into the bowl.

“H-Hello Pleon,” Quinn said, smiling.

“Hello, my pretty.” Pleon made a slick, slurping noise as he licked his lips. “Are you two lovely, lovely women going to kiss?”

“We’re not part of Arlan’s troupe,” Kailey said, jerking her chin at the nearest brothel on the island. “And we’re not here just to unload loot. We’re here to offer you a chance to never have to worry about bribing patrol boats again. Never having to rebuild after having the island burned to the ground around you again.”

Pleon’s almost ludicrously avaricious facade slipped for a moment. For that moment, Kailey could see the cold-snake focus that had led him to build Melos, then rebuild it again after Zeus had sent a small flotilla to burn him out. He leaned slowly back in his sedan chair, the weight shifting on the backs of his slaves.

“Go on.”

Kailey grinned, then jerked her chin. “You’ll need to come up here to see it. Because if we just told you, you won’t believe us.”

In the end, Pleon came up the gangplank on his own two feet, flanked by his slaves, each of them bearing a bared kopesh sword, save for the one who carried his standard. That one had the extravagance of a flintlock pistol – clearly Hellenic made by the shoddy quality of the firing mechanism. That wouldn’t keep it from killing anyone stone dead, and it made Kailey subtly push Quinn behind her back as she gestured Pleon to the cargo hatch. The slaves glowered at her crew, who glowered right back. Pleon though waddled forward, and then stepped down the hatchway.

After Kailey went first, of course.

Once they were in the hold, Kailey held up a mage light and Pleon’s eyes widened in his rounded cheeks.

“Oh, by the gods...” he whispered.

“This was what the Monodeists were carrying,” Kailey said.

Despite his clear shock, Pleon quickly went straight to brass tacks. “You can’t possibly use all of these guns, not on the Kiss. I can take all but, say, four of them off your hands in exchange for, hmm, free use of port for a year and a day.”

Kailey snorted and then spat on the deck. “Like hell.”

The slaves, who had finished clambering down the hatch, growled at that.

Pleon waved his hand to silence them. “For your life.”

“We’re keeping twenty four guns,” Quinn said, reaching up to brush some of her luminously white hair behind one ear. “Twelve for a side.”

“What?” Pleon looked at her. “Every ship on the seas puts their cannon on the prow. Anything else will shatter a ship to pieces! By weight alone-”

“Leave the ship design to her,” Kailey cut in. “But that leaves you twelve guns. Six on the north spit of land, six on the south, and you can turn any ship that comes into the harbor into kindling. We’ll even help you make the gunpowder. In exchange for these guns, we want access to your docks for as long as it takes to finish the upgrades to our ships, and access to your slaves and your shipwrights.”

“Well, the docks, of course, of course, the slaves, maybe, yes,” Pleon said, waving a single fat hand. “But you would ask me to make Happy and poor Dimas work for nothing?”

Kailey beamed. “No, no, no, we figured that you would pay them, Pleon.”

“For twelve guns?” he asked. “Hmm...”

“Twelve guns and gunpowder,” Quinn put in, peeking over Kailey’s shoulder.

Pleon scoffed. “You pay for half of the shipwright’s wages.”

“Half those wages are going to be dreampowder and hashish!” Kailey said, waving her hand. “We’ll pay half of the coin that you give them, but you cover the other half of the coin and their...” She searched for a diplomatic word. “Entertainment.”

“Two thirds of the coin,” Pleon said.

“Half,” Kailey said, her arms crossed over her chest. “And I’ll throw in a chest of the pleasure herbs we have in the stores.”

Pleon scowled, then waved his hand in a choppy motion. “Done!”

As he started to awkwardly climb his way up the ladder, Quinn whispered in Kailey’s ear: “I feel like I need a bath.”

Kailey managed, somehow, not to laugh. Instead, she turned to face Quinn. “So, the collar things.”

Quinn blinked. Then she gasped. “Right! Right.” She walked Kailey over to the collection of strange artifacts. She flung the container case open with a grunt, then picked up one of the oddities. “I’ve been researching them and I think they’re null-collars.”

“Like for valks?” Kailey asked, her brow furrowing.

“Not quite. They’re several times more powerful.” Quinn paused. “I think that if you put one of these on a god it’d cut their powers off.”

Kailey frowned. She looked down at the curved collars.

“And here,” she murmured. “I thought Ares would be screaming for the cannons.”

***

Tethis opened the door to find herself face to belly with Fizit. The day was another one of those torrential downpours required to water the fields and green the deserts, but Fizit treated the rain as her kind treated any kind of water: something for other people to worry about. Rain ran in shining rivulets down her arms and dripped from her fingertips. It slicked her breastband to her chest and caused her feathered crest to lay flat against her neck. It beaded along her tail as she held it stock still behind her – only the tip quivered to show any sign of emotions.

Tethis crossed her arms over her breasts and frowned.

“Yes?” she asked, her voice as cold as the rain falling from the heavens.

“I heard about Liv. May I come in?” Fizit asked, her voice stiff and formal.

Tethis narrowed her eyes. “No.”

She closed the door with a thump, right in the lizardwoman’s nose.

Tethis turned back and away, sighing quietly. She walked away from the entrance to her small home, past the piles of books and scrolls that she had been meaning to sort for the past, oh, several months. She came to where Liv lay groaning on the bed. Her headaches and migraines persisted, even days after Liam had left on his diplomatic mission. Some days, she could sit up and grouse and grumble about Coptic cooking. Most days, she simply lay there and groaned.

Thus far, Tethis had managed to simply determine what it wasn’t. It wasn’t a tumor, it wasn’t an imbalance in hormones, it wasn’t brain damage, it wasn’t internal bleeding, it wasn’t a change in Liv's diet, and it wasn’t a curse. But the migraines kept getting worse, and new symptoms would come and go, seemingly at random. One day, her nose would simply not stop bleeding. Another day, she would complain about a screaming pain shooting along her arm.

Now?

Now she was feaverish, panting and whimpering in bed, tossing her head from side to side. “No. No. No. Brax. No.”

Tethis felt her blood run cold.

This was why she sometimes didn’t rush very quickly to cast a spell that might reduce Liv’s pain or discomfort when some new facet of her sickness came to the fore. Liv looked at the man who had almost gotten Tethis – and Liam, and Meg, and the whole of Purgatory for that matter – killed and saw a lover. Rather than the monster he was. A tragic monster, if Tethis was being generous.

He had ordered mass crucifixions, by Bast’s tits. He had assassinated Odin! Successfully! Permanently.

Tethis sighed and stepped forward. Her palms spread over Liv’s forehead and she focused, drawing magic into herself. The patterns of thought, gesture, and mumbled words that caused the powers that surged through Purgatory to leap to her whim were so ingrained that it was nearly as easy as thinking. She would simply reduce Liv’s pain, then maybe-

Tethis slammed into the wall and then slid down with a clattering of shelves and crash of pottery. She was... in the kitchen? Her head rang and her eyes blazed with a pale white light. She groaned and slowly shook her head, then squeaked as a pot filled with cherry preserves landed on her. It didn’t break, but it did clonk against her skull and splatter her face and her cheeks and a good bit of her chest with red, drippy goop.

Distantly, Tethis could hear a voice. It sounded like it came to her from the bottom of a deep well, barely audible and muffled.

“Tethis? Tethis? Speak to me, Tethis!”

It was a hissing, familiar voice. Tethis groaned and pushed the clawed fingers that were touching her neck away. “I’m okay, I’m okay...” she mumbled, then shook her head again. The white flare that had obscured her vision faded and she saw Fizit, kneeling before her. Then water started to sluice across Fizit’s back, pattering down like a spigot had opened. She looked up and Tethis rolled her head back as well.

The ceiling was full of…

Cracks?

Fizit hissed something in lizardspeech and Tethis groaned as she was slung over the taller woman’s shoulder. The upside down view this afforded her of her own home showed that one wall had fallen completely down. The roof that the wall had sported remained up, by the desperate efforts of several still intact beams and wooden pillars. A pale white glow surrounded Liv’s bed – pulsating faintly.

Then Fizit bounded out of the house. She sprang through a splintered door – splintered inwards, Tethis noticed – and into the sleeting rain moments before the home collapsed. Tethis saw it all, watched as the roof fell downwards with a plume of smoke and spray of dust and grit. When the smoke cleared and the onlookers – the crowd of people who had come running at the explosion and the collapse – parted for a moment, Tethis could see that the only thing that remained intact in her home…

Was the bed that Liv lay on.

Shrouding the bed was a crackling bubble of glowing force. Rubble sat on the top, but the hemisphere was clearly slippery, as chunks were sliding slowly to the side, leaving the field clean. The surface rippled like water for a few more moments before it winked, once, twice, then vanished.

“I am beginning to think,” Tethis spoke the words slowly, carefully, despite her awkward position and her aching body. “That this is not a migraine.”

***

“Have you ever met this Dimas?” Quinn asked. Shouted, really. She had to shout to be heard over the sound of hammering and sawing wood and swearing workmen. Kailey, who was watching her ship being slowly dismantled and put back together again, frowned and shook her head. She looked at her lover, who was surrounded by rolls of parchment, looking at designs for what appeared to be a wooden carriage for a cannon.

“Well, I’m curious why we’re paying gold for a man who doesn’t seem interested in working,” Quinn said, casting the parchment to the ground. “Happy listens to my advice when I point out a design is unworkable. But I’ve sent a messenger to Dimas three times, and he hasn’t responded once! Can I just-”

“No,” Kailey said. She looked at her lover, her face darkening. “The last thing I want is any of our crew wandering town alone. I don’t trust Pleon farther than I can throw him. Without my riastrad.”

Quinn shook her head. “Listen, Happy has a great eye for rigging. But we need designs for the cannon carriages that the carpenters can work on, that won’t not fit on the ship.” She bit her lower lip. “Maybe we can go together? Since Pleon is clearly not about to ride herd on his own men...”

Kailey considered. Together, the two were a fairly formidable force.

“Bring your foci,” she said, quietly.

And so, a few short minutes later, the two goblinesses walked down the unpaved road that led to Pleon’s fortress. Melos was built around the harbor of the island, which itself was protected by sheer cliffs that formed a nearly perfect C shape. Thanks to the thick jungle canopy, the buildings were nearly invisible from a distance, and the harbor looked too dangerous for most captains to try. For those that tried, there were now twelve cannons aimed permanently at the entrance.

But for those who knew the way and flew the pirate standard, there was a nice little way to just burn through money. Lilin whores dressed in scanty scraps of silk and leather sprawled against the walls of cheap alehouses, while brothels and bordellos proclaimed their services with lurid signs that depicted everything. There were wooden panels that showed women with their mouths fastened around members of every race, while several brothels had their finest whores leaning out of their windows, showing off every inch of their beauty to those who walked by.

There was also a guard force. Of a sort. Slave-collared lizardmen, most of them twisted and hunched and mutated by some mistake in their birth or lives, stood near several of the storefronts, holding blades and clubs in their hands, glaring about themselves. A whore screamed as Kailey and Quinn walked by. Glancing over, the two women saw a pirate – his stance and posture showing he was clearly drunk as a sow – groping and squeezing her tits.

Two lizardmen seemed to appear from the shadows behind the man. In a few seconds, he was a pile of butchered meat, the whore kicking sand at the corpse, spitting at him.

Pleon’s rules were harsh.

And his fortress showed where all the money raked in by the stores and whorehouses went It was a perfect square solid stone, with a wooden roof and a Roman-style atrium. There were several slit windows that ringed the walls, with just enough room for someone to fire a gun or a bow out of them. The front door was narrow and made of wood banded with bronze bars. The standard-bearing slave – one of the few human slaves that Pleon used – was there. He was polishing and fiddling with his pistol as Kailey called out.

“Hail!”

The slave looked up. His finger went to the collar wrapped around his neck. “What do you want?”

“We’re looking for Dimas, the shipwright?” Quinn said, her voice slightly nervous. Glancing at her, Kailey grinned. No. Not nervous. She was shy. Now that she wasn’t focused on being disgusted by Pleon, she was noticing the sculpted muscles and bronzed skin of the slave. Quinn, like Kailey, was not actually purely sapphic. They just rarely met men who hit their standards: Tall. Muscular, but not too muscular. Clean shaven. Clean, actually, in general.

The only thing the slave lacked was a brain – which Quinn looked for – and a certain... spark. When pressed, Kailey had a hard time pinning down what she thought of as a spark. But she had sometimes pointed at men – those who had done something brave or foolhardy or skillful – and said: That!

The slave grunted at Quinn’s question. His response dampened the alchemist’s interest, though: “I dunno.”

He didn’t just not know, he also showed zero sign of wanting to know.

Quinn sighed and tossed her head as Kailey smiled, her voice faux sweet: “Then please, find out.”

The slave turned and ducked back inside the house.

Kailey tapped her foot.

Quinn sighed.

A single mosquito went buzzing by. Kailey snapped her arm out, closing her hand in a fist. She opened her fingers and the mangled corpse of the mosquito dropped to the ground.

The slave opened the door.

“On the cliffs.”

Stomping through the jungle gave Kailey and Quinn plenty of time to get annoyed. Quinn growled under her breath as she ducked underneath low hanging vines, while Kailey pushed underbrush aside. “We hire him, we pay his wages despite giving his master twelve fucking cannons, flintlock cannons, and he goes off to work on Pleon’s job before us. What kind of shithead does that?”

“One who knows who pays for his drugs,” Kailey hissed.

The two women emerged from the jungle to the cliffs. The sudden gust of wind slapped their faces, causing the sweat that beaded on their cheeks to dry with a prickling sensation. But both were struck dumb by the sight that was before them. Not the cleverly concealed ditch where six cannons were mounted in wooden toughs, aimed downwards, with stacked stone shot and gunpowder kegs were being laid out.

No.

By him.

He was tall and leanly muscled, like a Greek god. His face had just a faint dusting of hair, enough to give his dusky cheeks a darker shade than the rest of his face. His hair was short and straight and snarled around him like an unkempt mane. But rather than looking slovenly, it just accented his untamed good looks. He was dressed in a kilt and nothing else, which meant every inch of his washboard flat abs and taut belly and smooth pectorals was on display and utterly delicious. He held a clay tablet in one hand and had scratched out some geometric proofs on it. His eyes – beautiful, hazel eyes – looked out at the curving horizon of Purgatory as he chewed his lower lip.

Quinn breathed slowly in, shaking herself.

“Is that Dimas?” Kailey whispered.

“Well, as Happy is a one legged human without a single hair on his head, I’m going to say that it is likely-” Quinn stammered, but Kailey cut her off by putting her finger on her lips.

“I know how to get him to work on our ship,” she murmured.

“Paying him?” Quinn whispered around her finger. Then she saw the look in Kailey’s eyes. “Oh.”

Kailey smirked, then started forward. She stopped moving her feet softly on the ground – instead, she let the tiny rocks and pebbles that covered the ground click and clatter together. But she also put a sway to her deliciously curved hips. Her long, wild mane of feathers and hair fluttered in the breeze as it caught at her simple shift. The sound made Dimas look up. His eyes widened and he blinked as he also saw Quinn. Quinn didn’t move with the sensual grace of her lover – but she knew how to make her own eroticism pop.

Where Kailey moved like a predator, Quinn stepped forward with a shy smile and her hands clasped behind her back. Her chest thrust out, making her tits strain against her tunic. Her nipples and her eyes bespoke the lie to her innocent smile; her eyes glittered with eagerness and her nipples were already puffy and hard, peeking through the thin fabric of her tunic.

“Can I help you, Miss...?” Dimas asked, his voice husky, trailing off as he looked between them.

“Kailey. Captain Kailey,” Kailey said, grinning as she put her palm on his belly. Her fingers spread, touching to the centers of several of his muscles. She pushed gently and Dimas was so startled that he sat down with a thump. This meant that he was more on a level with her, his lips near hers, his eyes looking into hers. Kailey leaned forward and purred in her ear. “And that’s Quinn.”

“Hey,” Quinn said, stepping to the other side of him. She knelt down, her palm pressing to his chest. “You, ah, are quite muscular for a shipwright...”

“Uh...” Dimas looked as if he had never been in the center of this kind of attention in his life. Kailey judged he had been with whores – since he didn’t tremble quite as much as virgin. But there were whores. And then there were whores. And Kailey was quite confident in her and Quinn’s ability to set a man’s heart aflame. She pressed her soft, pillowy breasts against his shoulder. Her teeth grazed his ear as she whispered.

“This stuff anyone can do. We need a real genius working on the Kiss right now.” Her finger caressed his chest. Her finger circled one nipple.

Dimas gulped. He whispered. “The, uh, Lord Pleon said we had to get this finished first...he told me, uh, to put your requests on the back burner...”

Quinn and Kailey glanced at one another. Kailey arched a single eyebrow.

Quinn smiled, then shifted around. She sat her rump down on Dimas’ skirt. From the way his shoulder tensed against Kailey’s breasts, she knew that Quinn had started to grind her cute little ass against his hardon. But looking over his shoulder, Kailey saw a moment of pouty sadness flash across Quinn’s features. Before she could ask more, Quinn leaned in and spoke to Dimas. She didn’t purr. She didn’t need to. She was grinding against his member and mashing her breasts against his chest. Anything would sound erotic in that context, even: “But we really need a new design for the cannon carriages!”

Dimas bit his lower lip. “Well, I had a design idea or two, but...”

“Pleon?” Kailey asked, her teeth nibbling at his earlobe. Dimas groaned. His hips bucked and his fingers dug into the sort dirt that spread behind him. Quinn leaned forward to start nuzzling at his neck.

“Pleon said he didn’t want you to be able to shoot up,” Dimas whispered. “It didn’t make sense.” He rolled his head slightly to the side. Quinn was licking and kissing at his neck. She nibbled, then nibbled again, more forcefully. Dimas’ hands moved from bracing himself to sliding along Quinn’s back. He reached down to squeeze her ass, tight.

“But why?” Quinn pouted.

“I don’t know,” Dimas panted. “Oh gods-” he was cut off when Kailey turned his head. She leaned over his shoulder and locked her lips to his. They were warm and soft and his tongue was stumbling. Inexperienced. Definitely only laid with whores. Kailey taught him, subtly, her tongue moving with his, pushing against him as her hands found his nipples, tweaking them gently. Dimas broke the kiss and panted softly.

Quinn grabbed onto her tunic, her voice soft and desperate. As if she was a virgin, giving into her wildest lusts. “Oh Dimas!”

Her tunic went sailing off to land behind her. Dimas showed that he knew at least something about his work – his palms cupped both of the smaller woman’s breasts, squeezing them as he leaned forward, capturing one of Quinn’s breasts. He sucked on her nipple with eager, wet, slurping noises. Quinn moaned, her head rolling backwards as she started to grind against him.

Dimas broke the kiss and started to push Quinn backwards – but as she laid back, Kailey made her move. She took hold of his wrist, guiding it between her legs. Her shift crinkled as his hand pushed under, caressing her thighs. Then his fingertips – soft, gentle fingertips, the fingertips of a scholar – pressed to her sex. He thrust one tentatively inside and Kailey put a bit of a theatrical gasp to her voice as his finger crooked inside of her. Questing. Questing.

Questing.

Still... fiddling around.

Quinn, meanwhile, had spread her thighs and used her feet to push Dimas’ kilt down, freeing his cock. Looking at it, Kailey had to bite her lip to repress a frustrated growl. This was exactly why she and Quinn rarely laid with men when they weren’t trying to, well, manipulate them. Like right now, for instance. Not only had he still not found her center of pleasure, but his member would only have been impressive for a goblin male.

And if Quinn and Kailey had been satisfied with even impressive goblin men, they would have never left their home villages.

Kailey reached down to start gently rubbing her own clit as Dimas seemed convinced that he was Odysseus and would need to spend ten years to find her fucking G-spot.

Quinn moaned, faking pleasure and shocked eagerness as Dimas slid into her. He had to be helped by her hand, guiding him in. His free hand was caught between Kailey’s thighs after all, while his other hand was pressed to the ground to give himself some support. He started to thrust into Quinn, his balls gently slapping against her ass. Quinn put her best acting into it, her back arching as she mewled and moaned and cooed: “Oh Dimas! Oh Dimas!”

Kailey’s own rubbing set her fireworks off as she quivered atop his hand, moaning his name as well. Dimas, as she had expected, lasted two thrusts more before burying himself deep inside of Quinn (well, as deep as he could manage.) As he panted into her neck and drew his hand from Kailey’s thighs, Kailey looked irritatedly at the sky.

“So, when can we, ah, do this again?” Quinn asked, her voice husky.

“Uh-”

“Cause we haven’t met someone like you for a long time,” Quinn whispered, her fingers caressing Dimas’ chest. “Maybe...we can come up to the cliffs while you work here and you can...relax?”

Dimas beamed a huge, stupid smile.

“Sounds great!”

Kailey and Quinn walked down and away from the cliffs.

Muttering to one another

***

Fizit stood in the darkened corridor, watching as Tethis and several other court wizards – many of them specialists in fields other than healing – walked around Tethis. Books and tomes from the palace libraries were spread about, but Fizit could sense the lack of understanding from the collected wizards. Tethis threw up her hands and stalked off, walking past Fizit without even noticing her.

You’d think almost being assassinated would give you better instincts, Fizit thought.

Liv had remained in a coma – thankfully without exploding again – for the past week. In that time, Liam’s ship had sailed to distant Uten-Ha and started home. The watch stations had reported that he had Anubis. But until then, his palace remained a tense place. Without a home, and with something that the City of Babylon desperately needed to understand, Tethis hadn’t been able to refuse Fizit’s offer to stay here.

But that hadn’t made Tethis warm to her.

Fizit knew she should have just put the thought of it behind her. She should just... not care.

She had been quite good at not caring, before. Focus on the mission. Ignore the pieces, save for the factors that mattered to your objectives. People were tools. It was how you survived in the world of spies and ciphers, secrets and lies, kings and emperors. But... but... but... Tethis was one of Liam’s oldest friends. She was the second person on Purgatory he had met who hadn’t been trying to murder him. He made love to her almost as often as he made love to Meg. Meg! She shook her head and stalked after Tethis as the other woman walked to her chambers.

A clattering of scales and claws on tiles announced the arrival of Brax. He skidded around the corner, laughing, and then saw that he was about to smash into Tethis. He squalled, scrabbled at the ground, then smashed right into her chest. The two went sprawling on the ground. Fizit froze – her eyes wide. Tethis laughed as she rolled onto her back, wincing only slightly as she sat up.

“And who are-” she stopped dead.

Brax looked at her. The fusion of Liam’s features and Fizit’s had to be clear as day. Besides, who else would he be?

Fizit felt as if she was torn between three different instincts. Observe and report. Rush in to protect her son. Start scolding the little hellion for running around in the palace when he should be studying. Caught there, she simply froze as Tethis picked up Brax with a grunt and set him to the side.

“Hi,” Brax said. “You’re Dad’s friend, Tethis, right?”

Tethis gulped. “R-Right. I, uh, yes. And you’re...”

“Brax!” He puffed up his chest. “I’m named after Marion's dad. Auntie Liv’s her mom, and Fizit’s my mom, but Brax the Golden and Fizit weren’t related, but they were friends. So, she’s basically my sister. Are you a goblin? I haven’t met many goblins, but I hear you’re the best at flying gliders. Is that because you’re small?”

Tethis blinked, slowly. “Uh, maybe? I don’t know, honestly.”

Brax nodded, sagely. His hands gripped his thin, whippy tail, and he looked solemn. “When I grow up, I want to fly gliders. But Dad says that they’re too dangerous. But if they’re so dangerous, why does he get to go on a boat to sail around the world?” he paused. “I miss Dad.”

“I miss your dad too,” Tethis said.

“You do?” Brax asked. “But you never visit.”

Tethis looked as if she had been slapped.

“But Dad says it’s cause you’re busy. But Maid Theresa says that it’s cause you hate Mom. Do you hate Mom?”

Fizit felt her throat closing tight. Tethis sighed, quietly.

“No, I don’t, b-”

“Oh, that’s good!” Brax seemed to be entirely relieved. Then, grinning, he said: “You won’t tell anyone I wasn’t doing my maths, right?”

Tethis stammered something that could have been a yes or no. Brax beamed at her, showing off every one of his sharp teeth before turning and running off. As he rushed away, Fizit felt her freeze break. She reached out, caught him by the back of his shirt, then swung him around into her arms. She held him and glared down at him, emerging from the shadows.

“Brax Vanderbilt,” she said, growling. “What’s this about not doing your maths?”

“But Mom!” Brax whined.

Tethis was standing up. She rubbed her slightly bruised butt as she looked at Fizit. Fizit looked at her as Brax squirmed in her arms.

“Fizit,” Tethis said, her voice formal.

“Tethis,” Fizit said.

Brax stopped squirming. He was young – far younger than a lizardman of his age would have been – but he was still able to sense that now was a time to keep quiet. His tail twitched from side to side. Fizit looked into Tethis’ face. She could see the warmth in the other woman’s eyes. Not for her. For Brax. She loved him, despite his origin, despite her, despite his name, despite everything. It had taken one meeting and Tethis was ready to accept her son. The small chink around Fizit’s heart was struck with the force of a cannon. She gasped and felt tears blur her vision. But she could see tears glimmering in Tethis’ eyes as well.

“I’m sorry!” Tethis and Fizit said at the same moment.

“What are you sorry for?” Brax asked.

“I had no...no excuse, no excuse, I shouldn’t have, I should have-” Fizit stammered.

“No, no, no, you were protecting your people!” Tethis said, stepping forward, putting her hands on Fizit’s arms – reaching up to do so.

Fizit sniffed. “But you were almost killed!”

“It was war,” Tethis said, nodding quickly.

The two women lapsed into silence. Sniffled. Then Fizit laughed, shaking her head. “You’re saying the same things I said to myself,” she whispered, huskily.

Tethis wiped at her eyes. “If I hold onto my grudge, I’ll have to cut this little guy out of my life. Hell, I’ve practically cut Liam out of my life. I miss him. And...” She paused. “My fear doesn’t need to spoil our relationship. Right?”

Fizit nodded, then sniffled. “I still owe you. So much. I owe everyone so much. For what I did. For what we did.”

Tethis smiled at her.

Brax, who had been looking between the women, blinked.

“Are you two going to fuck now?” he asked, innocently.

“Brax!” Tethis gasped.

“Who taught you that word?” Fizit growled.

“I heard Mom Meg say it,” Brax said, defensively.

And, as often happened in bitter wars, the most unlikely of friendships could be formed when faced with a greater threat.

Fizit and Tethis walked off, side by side, their eyes glinting not with tears, but instead with purpose.

***

The Morrigan’s Kiss unfurled her sails for the first time in almost a week and a half. It was a brilliant day and the wind blew through the harbor with a whistling howl. It caught in the sails and caused them to bell outwards. Quinn stood beside the wheel as Kailey held onto it with casual confidence. Kailey swept her gaze along her deck and shook her head. It was remarkable what hard work and magic could accomplish. The deck had been reinforced and cleared of the oar-locks. Those had been converted into places to mount their guns. Each slot was filled with crystal, the cannon set in freshly carved carriages.

The only thing different from the schematics were the elevation blocks that lifted the barrels. But those were nearly invisible from a distance.

“I can’t believe Pleon let you off without gouging us more,” Thaddious said, shaking his head as he walked up to the two women. He smirked. “Did you have to negotiate with him every day? You two kept vanishing.”

“Not quite,” Kailey said, smirking.

“I can’t believe I sat on his face the whole week and he still needed to be reminded to pay attention to my clit,” Quinn muttered.

Thaddious frowned. “Do I need to be concerned?”

“No, Thaddious,” Kailey said. “But Pleon is planning to betray us.”

Thaddious blinked. Then he laughed. “Ah. Let me guess, he wants to get every gun.”

“That’s the idea. Sink us, then salvage them from the harbor,” Kailey said. “But do you know why it is a bad idea to let us near your engineer?”

Thaddious rubbed at a bit of stubble on his cheek as Kailey lifted her right arm. The crew she had spoken to earlier saw the sign. They hurried to their posts, moving quickly and without shouting.

“I can guess,” Thaddious said.

Quinn grinned.

Kailey dropped her arm.

Twenty four cannons spoke at the same time. Smoke exploded from each barrel and the carriages rocked backwards onto the deck. Roundshot smashed into the cliff-faces, striking siege works that Kailey and Quinn had, while Dimas was sleeping off sex and drink, quietly sabotaged. Gunpowder improperly protected by weakened armor went up with a roar and debris reached into the heavens.

The Morrigan’s Kiss sailed from Pleon’s harbor, leaving two pyres as a warning to the world.

Never double cross Kailey and Quinn.

Five

The Constitution chugged through the placid waters of the Platonic Sea. The air was misty with a fog that had blown off the coast, and Liam found that he was completely unable to sleep. He watched the waters smoothly sailing by while crew moved about their tasks quietly – no one seeming interested in making too much noise. Night had fallen a few short hours before, and Liam knew that he should rest. Tomorrow was another day that would require his tact and diplomacy.

Liam snorted quietly.

The voyage to Uten-Ha had been uneventful – most of Liam’s time had been spent reading missives sent via the watch stations. Meg had kept him up to date on everything that was going on in Babylon, as well as including several paragraphs that caused the goblin signals officer on the Constitution to turn the most amazing shade of dark green. Reaching the city itself had made Liam feel a dawning sense of hope.

Uten-Ha had been a thriving place. With high walls and about five cannons, it had boasted the vast statues and monuments that the Pesdjeti used to focus their god’s devotion and powers. Statues of Anubis had held aloft ever-glowing torches, while small shrines to lesser gods and spirits and ancestors had provided heat, directions, even fresh food to those who came to lay coins in their offering bowls.

But best of all had been the person who greeted Liam as he and his honor guard walked off the gangplank.

“Liam Vanderbilt!” Neb beamed at him. She looked shockingly good, considering she was six months pregnant. She still had a dainty muzzle, triangular ears, and a cutely wagging tail but now her breasts were fuller and slumped only slightly against her shift, which strained against her rounded belly. Her paw rested on that belly and she had that slightly submissive glint to her eyes, which reminded Liam of the times she had begged for him to lead her around on a leash. Liam forced those memories back and bowed low.

“Neb Maatre,” he said.

“Ah, no, it’s Neb Culhain now,” she said, wagging a single finger at him. Smiling, she whispered. “So, no more domination.”

Was there a hint of wistfulness in her voice?

Liam decided it was safer to believe that, no, no there wasn’t.

Neb and her escort – a pair of burly men wearing ornate jackal helmets and thick bronze breastplates – walked Liam through the center of Uten-Ha. Neb gave him a running narration of not only her life, but the life of her city: “This is my home city, you know. Where I came from when I was sent to Brigid’s library to learn all I could of their embalming techniques.” She chuckled, softly. “Anubis was more than happy with what I had learned. I married a scribe from Olimurias – a darling, darling man, I hope you’ll have time to meet him. He moved here, pledged himself to Anubis...”

Liam had listened.

And smiled.

And tried to not remember the way that Neb had sucked him off in the libraries of Olimurias.

The palace that Anubis dwelt in was similar, in many ways, to the palace that Liam’s government used as its headquarters. The differences, though, made it easy to remember that he wasn’t at home. For one thing, the Free Lord’s palace had been carefully made as religiously diverse as possible. Tiny shrines to all the gods that had a stake in Babylon peppered the place. Meanwhile, Anubis’ palace was bedecked with symbols and iconography of his particular cult.

Secondly, Anubis had quite a few of his Chosen about. Muscular human-jackal hybrids stood guard with ceremonial kopesh swords on their backs, while scribes so achingly similar to Neb that Liam caught himself watching their tails hurried by. The human servants were mostly in the shaved-headed Pesdjeti mode, with bronzed skin and bared chests.

Anubis himself, to Liam’s relief, didn’t meet them in a throne room or a palatial meeting hall. Instead, he was found in a library, bent over scrolls. Despite being similar, in many ways, to the furred human-jackal hybrids that made up the ranks of his Chosen, Anubis shone. His body radiated the raw power of a god. His muscles might not have bulged as intensely as his guards, but strength oozed from his lean, athletic form. His fur shone with a glossiness no mortal could match, and his eyes glowed with golden power. He was using his claw to indicate where he was reading, muttering under his breath.

“My lord?” Neb said, curtsying gently – her pregnancy didn’t make her awkward when it came to that gesture. “Lord Vanderbilt of the Free City of Babylon is here to see you?”

Anubis started and jerked his head up from the scroll. His eyes widened.

Then he beamed. “Liam Vanderbilt!” his voice boomed and echoed as he stood, his tail wagging excitedly. “As I live and breathe – I had heard you would come, but I never expected it to be so swift. So fast.” He took Liam’s hand. Liam shook and found himself immediately liking the god. It took him a few seconds to realize what it was.

But then it clicked.

It wasn’t something.

It was a lack of something. Anubis had no pretensions. He had no arrogant assumptions of authority, no blithe sureness that all mortals existed to be ordered about by him. The only thing in his eyes was an honest happiness at seeing Liam – and a measured, careful perceptiveness. Liam felt himself being weighed by those eyes. Anubis made a quiet huh sound, and said: “Well, I’d have expected to be more intimidated.”

“Why’s that?” Liam asked, grinning easily.

“Well, your title is The Godkiller,” Anubis said.

“It was mostly other people,” Liam said, cheerfully. “And the gunpowder.”

A faint creak of deck planking drew Liam from his reverie.

He turned and saw Captain Harold walking to the railing beside him. The crew had given him the distance of respect, but Harold kept up the cool, calm, slightly distant affect that most ship captains seemed to adopt as a matter of course. Liam and he looked out at the night sea for some time and Liam felt the slow, crawling fear that sometimes still stole up on him. On Purgatory, people were raised to be used to the idea that an ocean naturally reached upwards and upwards and upwards, like a great wall of water. But sometimes Liam could find his mind slipping backwards to his Earth attitudes and his brain would whisper: It’s going to fall on you. It’s all going to fall on you.

“Captain!”

The call drew both Liam and Harold’s attention. The signals officer waved at them from the forecastle. Liam and Harold exchanged a glance. When they came to the forecastle, the signals officer murmured quietly down to the both of them.

“We’re getting a priority two signal from the watch stations,” he said as Harold clambered up the ladder onto the forecastle itself. There was the small lantern and signaling mirror that could be used to send messages back up to the floating watch stations that glinted in the night sky like tiny stars. The signals officer took their seat, grinning. “And it’s not from Lady Megara this time.”

Liam chuckled – remembering how red the signals officer had gotten when the first of Meg’s ‘private’ messages had come through. Meg had to know that her salaciously described missives went through several pairs of eyes as they were blinked from Babylon to the watch stations to the Constitution.

She just had exactly zero shame.

Liam’s vestigial shame did squirm, knowing that several dozen people now knew that she was ‘eagerly fingering herself every night as she waited breathlessly for her most devout and best lover’ and how ‘no cock in Purgatory could compare to Liam’s immensity’ and so on.

This message was from Fizit, and so not likely to have descriptions of hypothetical titjobs. Instead, it said: Watch Station 22-09 spotted huge explosion on island of Melos. Known pirate stronghold. Longship sailing away.Tuathan or Aesir. Sails, no oars. Fizit.

“Huh,” Harold said. “Pirates with gunpowder?”

“Some of them have muskets or pistols – God knows there’s enough of them in the markets. But cannons?” Liam shook his head. “The only people who make cannons are us and Ares. And neither of us are stupid enough to sell them, right?”

Harold nodded. “Send a message back to station 22-09, ask them if they have a heading and rough position for the ship.”

“Aye, sir,” the signals officer said, bobbing his head.

As they waited for a response, Liam rubbed his hands along his face. “It’s not going to last forever, you know. I think, maybe, we should think about clearing out the Tuatha coast. Make a good Spanish try of it. They were the ones who burned the last pirates out of their dens back in the 18th Century...”

Harold shrugged. “It’d be a good test...” He paused as the signals officer was starting to write down notes. Liam looked up at the watch stations. Liam squirmed inwardly. He knew that they changed their signal codes regularly, and that the code books were kept as carefully locked and sealed as possible, and additional ciphers were layered in at every level. But even Fizit wasn’t perfect.

“They say that they’re heading our way!” the signals officer exclaimed.

“Interesting,” Harold said, quietly. “They can’t be thinking of an attack...”

“Maybe we should-” Liam started.

“Sir!” the signals officer started. “We’re getting a priority one signal now.”

Priority one meant that every station had to drop what they were doing and transmit the signal immediately. It was used only for the most dire, most important messages. Liam felt his heart clench – but before he could start to panic about what it might be, the morse code officer read it out: “Conspirators confessed. Bomb on Constitution. Defuse immediately. Fizit.”

“Beat to quarters!” Harold shouted, immediately.

The crew were roused by the hammering of a drum and Liam hurried forward, trying to school his expressions to calmness. He knew that he’d need to calm Anubis down – as there was no chance that he was going to sleep through the sudden din that screamed through the ship. Crew hurried to their battle stations, and Harold started to bark out commands to petty officers, who started to bawl their instructions to crew. Sailors were counted off to start sweeping the ship.

Anubis bounded to the deck, his hands on his simple white shift, his tail wagging excitedly. Liam stepped down and off the forecastle to go to the god.

“What is going on?” Anubis asked.

“Oh, just a minor dr-” Liam stopped himself. “Wait. You’re... perceptive, right?”

Anubis nodded. “Quite...” he said. “I can weigh a soul at a glance, so it’d be rather embarrassing if I couldn’t spy a gnat’s wing at a mile.” He chuckled, then swept his gaze around. “Are we getting ready because of that ship in the distance?” He pointed into the darkness. Liam looked. His eyes narrowed and he almost could see the shape of sails and wood.

“Can you share your perception?” Liam asked.

“I can try,” Anubis said, sounding skeptical. He placed his paw on Liam’s shoulder and Liam felt the tingling rush of a god’s blessing fill his body. He had felt it only a few times before – back when he had been the servant of Sobek. His eyes narrowed and the darkness surrounding the ship seemed to lighten. Like turning the gamma up on a video game.

“Port guns, clear!”

“We’ve checked the bunks, there’s nothing there.”

Liam narrowed his eyes further and he could see the other ship. Even with the enchantment, it was a faint blur in the darkness. But he could gauge the distance and the direction and the speed of the other ship – and he breathed a slow sigh of relief. They were turning to the side. Pirates wouldn’t want to tangle with the Constitution.

“Are we in danger?” Anubis asked.

“Oh, no, they’re out of bowshot range,” Liam said.

The other ship flared with light.

Liam had enough time to curse himself for ten kinds of a fool before he grabbed Anubis and threw him down.

The cannon struck.

And the world exploded.

***

Kailey jerked back, her hands gripping the wheel. The sudden flare of brilliant light that had filled the horizon filled her eyes with white spots. She blinked quickly and shook her head, then glared at Quinn. “What the fuck!?”

Quinn, who had been standing beside one of the cannons, rubbed at her face. The crew who had been managing the cannons weren’t cheering. They were standing in stupefied shock, their eyes wide. Kailey slowly stepped away from the wheel, walked down to stand beside her lover, then hissed in her ear. “What. Happened?”

“I-I don’t know!” Quinn whispered. “It looked like a merchant ship! It didn’t have a ram or or or-”

Kailey shook her head, then called out orders. The sails were rigged and the rudder turned and the Kiss started to drift closer to the flaming wreckage of the other ship. As they came closer and closer, Kailey shook her head in wonder. The ship hadn’t just exploded; it had gone up like Pleon the Fat’s cannon defenses. As they came close, a large chunk of wood with a massive turret on it started to slurp under the waves. Bodies – and pieces of bodies – floated here and there. They were dressed in ragged uniforms. One, shockingly intact, made Kailey hiss.

“Shit,” she whispered.

“These are Babylonian navy,” Quinn whispered. “I-I swore it was a merchant ship.”

“Note to self, never try a night attack again,” Kailey said, shaking her head in wonder.

“Should we take up survivors?” Quinn asked.

“Yes,” Kailey said. “Some might be valuable.”

The Kiss started to slow and crew used their poles to start prodding bodies. The solitary elf on the ship called out: “I’ve got two! I’ve got two!”

Kailey and Quinn rushed over to the side of the ship that the elf leaned from. The pole was tugging a pair of floating bodies together. One of them made Kailey blink and lean forward. “Is that...”

The crew reached forward, the Kiss rocking, and dragged the dripping, water logged body of Anubis onto the ship. He was slicked with water, his fur glimmering in the torches that flared and danced on the Kiss. Kailey hissed. “Quinn! Quinn! Get the collar! Get it! Now!” Quinn was already gone. But as she looked at Anubis, the other body was hauled on board. For a moment, Kailey wondered if it was another god.

No other man she had ever met had been that big. He had to be nearly twice as tall as she was, which meant that he outstripped even the tallest of her crew by a head and a bit of shoulders. His chest was broad and well muscled and seamed with old scars, while his hair was a brilliant blond. One of his feet was a gleaming clockwork fake, still hanging on by water slick straps of leather. But as he was rolled onto his back, Kailey hissed. The man’s neck had been cut open like he was a freshly butchered hog, the cut as neat and as clean as any executioner would dream of. His blood didn’t even pump from it. It must have all gone into the sea.

Quinn came back to the deck, holding one of the null collars from the hold. She knelt down and locked it around Anubis neck.

“Who's that?” she asked, eyeing the other body.

“The biggest missed chance we’ve ever had,” Kailey muttered.

Thaddious shook his head. “That’s Liam Vanderbilt. And we just killed him.”

***

Tethis rubbed her palms together, looking down at the spell she had constructed. Meg watched her from the corner of the room. The curvy valkyrie was perched on a stool, her wings closed taught behind her. Tethis paused from her checking and double checking – when using a spell so delicate and complex and vital, especially when it was to be used on Liv, whose last reaction to a spell had involved blowing up the building she had been in...there was no reason to be anything but cautious.

“Why are you so interested?” Tethis asked, quietly.

“Well, I mean, Liv isn’t my favorite person in the world,” Meg said. “But she’s still one of us.”

“Us?”

“You know,” Meg said. “Part of Liam’s harem.”

Tethis squeaked, forgetting her nerves for a moment. Her cheeks heated. “W-We’re not in a harem. I haven’t bedded him for a year! And you sleep with other men! And-”

Meg snorted, then threw her head back and laughed.

“Oh, you’re teasing me,” Tethis whispered.

Meg, her wings fluttering with her laughter, grinned and nodded.

Tethis scowled at her. She stepped over to where Liv lay. They had carefully moved her from the palace to the old cannon testing grounds – back when Babylon’s best minds had been focused on trying to build a cannon that wouldn’t explode under the immense pressures of gunpowder explosions. This little cottage was made of loose thatch and light wood, so if it did collapse, it wouldn’t be lethal. Hopefully. Meg had insisted that she come, while every other mage who was doing support was in the slit trench about fifty feet away from the walls of the building.

Remembering that made Tethis’ stomach knot all the tighter.

“Honestly, I’m here for incredibly selfish reasons,” Meg said. “I’m strong enough that if this goes wrong, I can get you out in a hurry. Worst comes to worst, I can lift the roof off your head.”

“Why is that selfish?” Tethis asked, her brow furrowing.

“If you die, no one’s going to fix my head,” Meg said, tapping the side of her temple.

“Well...” Tethis squared her shoulders. “Fortunately, this spell will have multiple applications.”

“Goodie!” Meg said. “Like a dildo that’s also a hammer.” She grinned. “How does it work? Explain to me, the leyman. I’ll be Simplicio in your Socratic dialog.”

Tethis blinked. “A what now?”

“An Earth astronomer once wrote a dialog between himself and a man named Simplicio,” Meg said, grinning wickedly. “He gave all the opinions of the Pope to Simplicio. The Pope took it well.”

“Wouldn’t Liv,” Tethis said, gesturing to the comatose demigod, “be Simplicio.”

“Well, I didn’t want to be rude,” Meg said, shrugging.

Tethis snorted, quietly. But under her rueful smile, a deep welling gratitude arose. She walked over and kissed Meg’s knuckles. “Thanks.” She said.

“For what?” Meg asked, feigning ignorance.

Tethis punched her thigh gently, then turned back to Liv. “We have determined everything that Liv’s condition is not. The only way we can learn more is by looking inside of her brain. Since we can’t pull it out through her nose, we shall...well...pull it out through her nose. But we shall be pulling an illusion out, so that we can observe it. Once we observe it, we might know how to cure it.”

Meg frowned, slowly.

“If you could observe her brain, you could observe mine, right?” she asked.

Tethis smiled. “And cure it.”

Meg beamed. “Well, let's get to yanking. Get your embalming on!”

Tethis breathed in. The last time she had tried to cast a healing spell on Liv, she had exploded with energy. She hoped that the alterations to her spell would avoid triggering that defensive impulse – whatever it was. But waiting around wouldn’t make the danger any less. She stepped forward, spreading her fingers, and began to make the passes, to speak the quiet words. The magics of the Ancients, the builders of Purgatory swirled around her as she started to focus them onto Liv’s head.

Sweat beaded on her forehead as Tethis tried to keep the increasingly complex command sequences straight in her head. Meg didn’t move – but her presence was a comforting reminder in the back of Tethis’ mind.

Tethis got to the end of the command sequence and cried out the Ancient word that set the spell running: “Compile!”

One day, she’d need to figure out what that meant.

The spell swirled around Liv’s head. A moment later, a shimmering, grey-blue blob appeared above her head. Geometric patterns swirled to life around it, growing in complexity and resolution, until Tethis realized that she hadn’t just created an image of Liv’s brain. It had come with Ancient glyph too! She gaped as she walked slowly around the sleeping Liv’s bench. The glyphs were either jumbled or spelled words that she couldn’t read – what on Purgatory is serotonin? - but the brain itself was easily visible.

Tethis reached out and experimentally took hold of the horizontal ring that circled around the image of the brain. She twisted it and the brain twisted with – she tensed and looked down. Liv looked no the worse for wear. So, it was just moving the illusion. Good. Tethis then took hold of one of the other rings – this one was vertically arranged. She was able to rotate the brain up and down this way, so she could look at it from the top and the bottom.

“Neat,” Meg whispered.

Tethis chuckled. “This spell is better than I could have expected...”

“Didn’t you design it?” Meg asked.

“Well...” Tethis bit her lip. “Really, every spell that’s not granted by a god is just calling on things that Purgatory knows. Summoning a fireball is as simple as commanding Purgatory to make fire there.” She shrugged. “Channeling heat is the same way. Using a teleporter shrine, healing biological damage, it’s all just... orders. Sometimes, those orders reveal additional features. Like...” She paused. “Like finding a gold coin in a pair of nice sandals.”

Meg pointed. “What does that stuff do?”

Tethis looked and noticed that a set of rings that floated to the upper left of the shimmering, illusionary brain. She reached up and experimentally tapped one. She yelped as the brain unwove as if it was being torn into by a flenser’s knife. Grey matter vanished, revealing the coiling, curving tissue beneath. Tethis leaped backwards, clutching her hand to her heart. Meg put her hands on her armpits, ready to haul her backwards.

But Liv didn’t squirm. Didn’t even moan.

“Whoa,” Meg whispered.

Tethis squealed in excitement. She couldn’t help it. Adjusting the other buttons, she discovered that each one separated the brain in different ways. One could be dragged around to make specific regions of the brain ‘see through.’ Another bisected the brain into chunks and spread each part apart. And better, she could still rotate and twirl around the brain while it was unfolded or unwoven. Soon, Tethis and Meg were examining Liv’s brain from every corner, and every angle, from inside and out.

It took Tethis less than a minute to find the problem, once she was looking.

“Look,” she whispered, pointing.

“It’s a lumpy bit,” Meg said.

“No, it’s a lumpy bit that is expanding,” Tethis hissed.

“I thought you said it wasn’t a tumor!” Meg said.

“I know!” Tethis frowned. She flicked one of the circles and managed to make the offending part of the brain glow gold. She flicked the rest of the brain away with her fingers, leaving only the golden bit hovering in the air above Liv’s sleeping face. It looked like a lump, roughly the size of a walnut, with tree-like branches that stretched outwards in every direction. They threaded throughout every part of Liv’s brain, and at the end of each branch came other, smaller extrusions that looked like root systems.

“What is it?” Meg whispered.

“I... don’t... know...” Tethis breathed.

A shout startled both of them from their awed reverie.

“Lady Vanderbilt! Spymaster Fizit needs you at the palace! Now!”

Meg scowled. “Shit.” She put her hand on Tethis’ shoulder. “Don’t worry. You got this!”

She turned and she ran.

Tethis bit her lip.

Did she?

***

Meg knew something was horribly wrong when she came to Fizit’s office and found the lizardwoman’s arms clutched over her head, her face mashed against her desk. She wasn’t crying – at least, Meg didn’t hear any tears. But she didn’t respond to her as she walked inside. Instead, all Fizit did was reach out with a single arm, holding up a small parchment. Meg took it and read it – having to puzzle out the cipher.

Constitution engaged pirate ship. Constitution destroyed. Further information pending.

Meg gaped.

She felt as if her knees, her stomach, her whole body had turned to ice water. She staggered and grabbed for a chair behind her. She groped around and crashed to the floor, unable to find a seat. The words swam before her. She forced her tears back, shuddering as she whispered.

“How?”

Fizit lifted her head. Her eyes were flat and hard.

“Because I’m a fuckup,” she hissed, her words harsh.

“But-” Meg started.

“The pirate ship didn’t destroy the Constitution!” Fizit shouted, springing to her feet, her tail lashing hard enough to smash her stool against the wall. The wood splintered with a crunch. “Somehow, one of those conspirators had a detonator. We thought the bomb was hidden elsewhere, but they got it on the ship. They confessed! If I had tortured the fuckers, we might have learned this days ago, not-”

Meg stood. She turned and walked from the room. Fizit followed her.

“What are you doing?” Fizit asked.

Meg didn’t respond. But she did stop a guard and yank a sword from his belt. The guard gaped in shock, stammering. “L-Lady?”

But Meg was already heading for the stairs.

The two women walked out of the palace and started for the dungeons. As they walked, Fizit stopped asking Meg where she was going – it was becoming increasingly obvious what their destination was. Fizit, though, was trying to think of how to explain this to the kids. Marion, it’d be easy. She was half-lizardfolk, half-elf. She wouldn’t be mature enough to understand words for years. Maybe longer, considering the slow childhood of the elves. But her little Brax, he was already learning basic math. But he had only known his father for... for…

Fizit closed her eyes.

Meg, meanwhile, was focused entirely on the sword in her hand.

“Meg! Fizit!”

The two of them stopped, turning to face Tethis. She was jogging towards them, her short legs making it harder than it should have been to navigate the dusty streets of Babylon. Even at night, there was quite a bit of foot traffic, and Tethis had to swing several wide curves to reach them. Gasping heavily, she put her hands on her knees.

“What?” Meg snarled.

Tethis looked shocked. “I think I know how to begin work on curing Liv, I just need to check some books and... why do you have a sword?”

Meg closed her eyes. “Because some motherfuckers just blew Liam up. With a bomb. Like cowardly-” She clenched her jaw. “So I am going to hack them apart until every last one of them is a bunch of bloody chunks. And then I am going to curl up in a corner and cry my heart out. But only after they’re chunks. Got it?”

Tethis looked confused. “Liam’s not dead.”

“The watch station saw the ship explode,” Fizit said, her voice tight. “It looked like the magazine went up. The whole-”

“No, I mean, he can’t be dead,” Tethis said.

Meg opened her mouth – but then Tethis held up her hand.

“No, no, I’m not just being optimistic! Before he left, I put a spell on him!” She looked from Meg to Fizit. “Remember? When you tried to have me assassinated?” She glared at Fizit. Then her glare softened as she looked down. “He thought it was a silly precaution. He knows how much effort it takes, but-”

The sword clunked to the ground. Meg dropped to her knees, then slumped to the ground, sprawling in the street, as if she had fainted. But Fizit saw that her hard mask had cracked, and she was holding her hands over her face. She sobbed quietly, curling up on herself. Fizit knelt down, looking at Tethis.

“The spell, it just... sustains you, right?” she asked.

“Yes,” Tethis said. “So long as his brain is intact, the spell sustains it – keeps it in stasis. Any healing spell will...” She snapped her finger. “Bring him right back.”

“How long should it last?” Fizit asked.

“Years!” Tethis said.

Fizit closed her eyes. “We have time.” She whispered.

Meg shuddered. Her wings had covered her, wrapping around her like a blanket. Now, they drew back. She hissed: “Yeah. Unless they roll him into the ocean and he gets eaten by a shark.”

Fizit clicked her jaw. Then she stood, her hand clenching into a fist.

“Come on. Let's get to work.” She paused, thinking.

“First thing we can do?” Tethis asked. “Is get Meg’s inner ear fixed.”

Fizit looked quizzical. Tethis snorted.

“Do you really think that Liam can be in the hands of pirates and she won’t immediately go off to kick their asses?” she pointed out.

Fizit nodded slowly. That was a point she was not about to argue.

Six

Kailey and Quinn stood in the drippy cave, the sounds of the jungle muted by the thick blanket of vines that hung from the cave mouth, and looked at the nearly decapitated body of Liam Vanderbilt.

The Morrigan’s Kiss was sheltering in the overgrown lagoon of the island, hidden from the constant spying eyes of the watch stations. The crew were busy at work changing the rigging of the sails, covering the cannons with tarps, and repainting the ship. The carpenter was knocking away at the figurehead, trying to change her shape as well. The idea was that they wanted to look as different as possible from the ship that had sailed from Melos – but Kailey knew that that wouldn’t last.

Eventually, the watch stations would identify them and keep them tracked, day and night.

Hell, she remembered the stories of the War of the False God. Babylon had dropped a small city on part of Purgatory they didn’t like. What would they do to a ship that they decided to erase. She imagined a vengeful bomb dropped from the sun, hitting her ship like Zeus’ very own thunderbolt, and shuddered.

“So,” Quinn said. “We have the world’s most valuable hostage.”

“Yes,” Kailey said.

“But he’s dead.”

“Also yes,” Kailey said.

“That’s bad,” Quinn whispered.

“Yes, again,” Kailey said.

“What’s the plan?” Quinn looked at her lover. The instinct for flight was clear in Quinn’s eyes. Run, sell the ship, change their names. Kailey bit her lip, reaching out to ruffle Quinn’s hair gently.

“I could... bring him back to life?” Kailey suggested.

“As a zombie? That won’t fool anyone!” Quinn hissed.

“Okay, okay,” Kailey said. “Okay. They don’t know he’s dead. We can send a message to the watch stations with a fire and a tarp. We flash them a message in the clear that we have Liam. Alive!”

Quinn nodded. “And when they ask for proof?”

Kailey bit her lower lip. “We...uh...” She snapped her fingers. “We cut off a finger!”

“We...what now?” Quinn asked.

“We cut off a finger to show them that we have him, and we send it to them via a messenger ship!” Kailey grinned. “Or a valk merc!”

Quinn brightened. Then she shook her head. “No, that’ll reveal us just as fast. They have Tethis. The world’s finest healer. She’ll check when the finger was cut off, and they’ll be able to tell he was already dead. I’ve read all the books on the circulatory system, it-”

“Then we heal him!” Kailey said, snapping her finger. “We heal him and it’ll make it seem like he’s alive while we cut the finger off.”

Quinn rubbed her chin. “That could work.” She sighed. “I’m not the best healer. But...” She gulped. She started to make the passes, her fingers waving and her voice muttering. She brought magical energies into the cave – filling it with a pale glow. Then she touched her palms against Liam’s chest.

And Liam jerked up, his eyes opening. “Whazup?”

Quinn screeched like a banshee and Kailey kicked Liam as hard as she could. Her blow slammed right into his balls and sent the chair he was tied too pitching backwards. He sprawled, groaning quietly.

“Ow. Jesus. God. Why?” he gasped, a low, shuddering gasp. “Why... why did... why did you kick me in the balls?”

“How did that happen?” Kailey whispered.

“You kicked me...” Liam hissed through gritted teeth.

“I don’t know!” Quinn whispered, walking slowly forward and looking down at Liam. His neck bulged with the tension of his muscles, his jaw taut. Quinn put her fingers on her temples, rubbing them in slow circles. “His neck healed. Expected. Yes. But he should be dead! His soul should be drifting apart!”

Liam lolled his head back, gasping quietly. “Ah, fuck this is like when Alex Rasgon threw a remote control at my junk. Jesus.” He hissed.

“Who?” Kailey asked.

“Nothing,” Liam said, breathing slowly out. “Okay... okay...” He blinked, then looked up at them. Kailey bit her lower lip, considering. Her eyes drifted from his confused eyes to the scar-tissue on his throat, to his broad chest, to the kilt that had flipped up and slapped against his belly. Her eyebrows shot into the stratosphere.

“Maybe if his soul had some kind of... magical buffer around itself, to keep it rooted,” Quinn started, her fingers still rubbing her temples. “And there were additional backup spells that maintained the vital humors of his body, keeping them in balance even after he died. But the exsanguination alone would have left him completely without bilious humors and... and... and...”

Kailey had taken hold of her chin and gently angled her head down.

Quinn’s eyes went wide.

Her mouth worked silently.

“By Sif’s pendulous titties,” she whispered.

Liam coughed, softly, craning his head up as he saw where they were looking.

“Um. I’m married?” He grinned, weakly. “So, um, maybe-”

Kailey sat down on his chest. Her thighs spread as she put her palms on his shoulders. She arched her back, grinding her cunt against him through the thin, silken fabric of her shorts. Her fingers were soft and gentle as they stroked his muscles. They were thick and hard and just touching him, she could feel a deep, vital power radiating through him. Her tongue darted along her lips as she purred quietly.

“Lord Vanderbilt,” she husked. “I believe we have a lot to talk about.”

Quinn shifted around to stand above Liam’s head. She rolled her hips as she walked, and Kailey could see Liam’s eyes widen as he caught a glimpse up Quinn’s skirts. His mouth parted and his tongue slipped along his own lips, moistening them unconsciously. Already, Kailey could feel the hardness behind her, growing more and more erect. She longed to look backwards, to confirm what her instincts said was behind her.

But no…

No…

This was something she planned to enjoy. Her voice remained husky as she leaned forward.

“For instance,” she whispered. “Your watch stations, they will make our job very difficult.”

“And what job is that?” Liam’s throat worked as he gulped. Quinn slowly knelt down. For a moment, her trajectory almost made it seem as if she was about to sit her pussy right down on Liam’s face. But at the last moment, she swung back, so that she merely sat above his head. Liam’s eyes flicked up, then back at Kailey. He squirmed, trying to wriggle free from the bindings tied around his wrists.

Even dead, Kailey hadn’t planned to take any chances. She was very glad of that now as she grinned and leaned forward, so that her lips almost caressed his lips.

“Selling you back to your home city, of course,” she purred, quietly. “For quite a sum. If you give us a cipher for your watch stations, it’d make everything much simpler.”

Most men, when she said something in that tone of voice, would have turned to jelly. The part of them that hadn’t turned to solid bronze, of course. But Liam closed his eyes, clenched his jaw, and murmured, “You’re out of your fucking mind.”

Kailey grinned. She had a trick of her own. She breathed in and out – drawing in the powers of her riastrad. She felt her blood start to boil. But rather than the combat rage she was used too, all of this heat seemed to pool in her cunt, moistening her lips enough that slick rivulets started to drip along Liam’s chest, making him seem almost oiled. She crooned and ground against him as her body grew and grew, until she was only a head shorter than him. This meant that her knees were resting to either side of his chest, and that her breasts were easily larger than any he’d ever seen, she was sure.

She scooted back and felt the length and thickness of his cock slot into her asscrack as if Liam had been born to fuck her. Kailey grinned, wickedly, reaching backwards as she put her fingertips gingerly against his cock, pressing him against her ass harder. She rocked her hips as Quinn started to slowly work her fingers into her sex. It was a subtle accompaniment, more heard than seen by Liam - his eyes were entirely focused on her - but the wet, hot, slick sounds of Quinn’s fingers slipping into her sex, the musical sounds of her quiet, gasping moans...that was all the music that Kailey needed for this most primal of dances.

“Ooh, you’re playing hard to get?” Kailey grinned. “If you tell me the basic ciphers for your watch stations, you get this...” She rocked up, then pushed. When she rocked down, the thickness of Liam’s cock slid between her thighs, pressing against her aching sex like a sword pulled from a blacksmith’s forge. Red hot and steel hard. Just the way she liked it. She started to roll her hips forward and backwards, like she was on a swing. Her juices sluiced along his cock, dripping from his balls.

“Ahh.” Liam rolled his head back. Despite his bravado, he was rocking his hips back, grinding desperately against her.

Quinn chose that moment to pounce. She had been working herself with an almost frantic speed, her thumb rubbing her clit, her fingers finding the places deep inside of her that she knew as well as the back of her hand. Quinn had had no eyes for anything but where Liam’s cock and Kailey’s pussy met – and Kailey knew from long experience that nothing to Quinn quite as quivery and moist and hungry as seeing Kailey in this position.

Dominant.

In charge.

On top.

Quinn spread her thighs wide and stayed over Liam as she came and came hard. Her head rolled back and she mewled loudly. “Kailey!”

Her juices flowed past her green fingers and her cupping palm. It pattered and dripped onto Liam’s face and his tongue darted out of his own accord, tasting her juices as if he had gone weeks without drinking. Liam’s cock surged against Kailey and Kailey... drew away. Drew back. She left him so that only the very tip of his cock was pressing against her sex, feather gentle.

Liam whined in the base of his throat.

“Thiiiink about it,” Kailey whispered, her hands going to her breasts. She squeezed them, her fingers circling then pinching her breasts. She tugged on her nipples, biting her lower lip. It stung slightly, but she knew that men went wild when they saw her demonstrating how large and perky they were. She lifted her breasts, then let them drop – and jiggle. And settle. Her voice was a quiet purr as she continued: “A tiny little cipher and you can slide every inch of this dick into me. Into my pussy. My hot. Goblin. Pussy.”

Liam groaned, his eyes closed to slits. But even as he struggled against her, he couldn’t help but watch as she played with her titties.

“I’ll be any size you want,” Kailey breathed. “Big. Small. I can be the tightest fucking pussy you’ve ever slid into...”

Liam hissed. “Come closer,” he whispered.

Kailey leaned forward, grinning. She let her whole body plaster itself against his chest. Her fingers slid from his shoulders to the floor of the cave behind him and she wondered, just how horny he was, to not notice the rough hewn cave under him. But then again, her fingers found that the floor was actually quite thick with a dark gray moss. Either way, her ear pressed almost against his lips.

Liam breathed in a shuddering gasp.

Then he whispered.

“I’d tell you...if I hadn’t noticed you looking at my dick like a wolf looks at a steak.” He smirked.

Kailey smirked, tamping back the sudden jolt of real lust that exploded in her body. She stood, casually, rolling one shoulder as some smoke trailed from under her hair.

“Let's see how you feel about that tomorrow,” she whispered, huskily. Then she took Quinn’s hand and walked away, letting her riastrad fade. As she shrank, she whispered as softly as she could, trying to move her lips as little as she could.

“Whatever you do.” She looked at Quinn out of the corner of her eye. “Don’t show you’re horny.”

The two of them emerged from the cave. They walked away, heads high, strutting as if they owned the world. Then, the instant they had gotten out of sight of the cave, Quinn and Kailey reached for one another. Kailey shoved Quinn against a tree, her mouth fastening to her mouth. They kissed, and reached, and caressed at the same time. Quinn’s hand found her breast, while Kailey’s fingers plunged into Quinn’s sex. Quinn’s free hand squeezed Kailey’s ass, then down between her thighs.

Kailey took two thrusts and a single caress of Quinn’s thumb – finding and rubbing her clit before she was biting down on Quinn’s shoulder hard enough to almost draw blood.

The two girls sagged to the ground, shivering and gasping.

“I can see spots...” Quinn whimpered.

Kailey sprawled back on the jungle loam. Her thighs spread wide and she twitched, bucking her hips as if a phantom cock was thrusting into her. As her waves of orgasms faded, she breathed.

“This is going to be a fun week.”

***

Liam lay on his back, his arms still bound behind his back, his cock hard as iron and laying against his belly. He sighed softly.

“That could have gone better,” he muttered.

The low, throbbing ache of his balls had, fortunately, been replaced with the low, throbbing ache of desire. But since the goblinesses were well and gone, he had little that he could do but wriggle against his restraints. It was a sad thing...but a tiny sliver of him was actually rather happy. Yes, he was far from his loved ones, his family, his children. Yes, his city might even now be falling into turmoil – the bomb had been missed by Fizit, who knew what else had slipped by under her snout.

But…

But…

Liam’s life had been nothing but paperwork and arguments and dickering for what felt like an eternity. Meetings and compromises, all the things that it took to run a city that was rapidly becoming something far larger. But a part of him missed moments like this. Where it was just him and his wits and his raw physicality. He clenched his jaw, tugging on the ropes, then loosening his pressure. His muscles knotted and strained, but every time he strained, he felt the ropes give ever so slightly more.

Liam paced himself. He both didn’t want to tire himself out and he didn’t want to cut his wrists. He also didn’t want to break free at an...inopportune moment. He kept his ears perked up every moment he was letting himself relax – listening to what muffled noises came to the cave from the jungle beyond. The thick, cloaking layer of vines made that tricky. But Liam had listened to a lot of footfalls in his time as an adventurer.

And he recognized the sound of heavy feet and dragging feet. Two guards, dragging another prisoner.

Anubis?

He lay back, then realized that just laying on his back might seem suspicious – why just remain on his back, huh? Why wasn’t he struggling? And so, he pushed himself and rolled until he was on his side, then wriggled, looking as if he had been trying to roll free. The vines flipped aside and he heard one of the pirates – a male – saying: “I guess we shove ‘em in here.”

“Captain said to stash ‘em together, and we watch ‘em.” The other voice was deeper. When Liam craned his head around, he saw one was a goblin and the other was a lizardman. The lizardman looked down at him, curiously. But Liam didn’t see any sign of familiarity or appreciation. Brax’s army had not been the entire lizard race – just one of their tribes. For all he knew, this lizardman was from an entirely different part of Purgatory, to whom the whole War of the False God was someone else’s problem.

The lizardman, though, was also holding a figure with a bag over their head. The fur and the tail made it clear it was Anubis – but that was just baffling to Liam. He had expected the god would have gotten away, or used his magic to escape, or... well, anything.

“So, this is Liam Vanderbilt. The Godkiller,” the goblin said, smirking.

“Yup. Good roommate for the Pesdjeti,” the lizardman laughed and pushed Anubis forward, who yelped and tripped over his own feet. He crashed to the ground and the two pirates stepped back outside. Since the cave only had one exit, they clearly weren’t worried.

Anubis kicked at the ground and his voice came through the hood – muffled and terrified. “Where am I? What’s going on? Where is Kiyat?”

Kiyat? Liam thought.

But then he actually listened to what Anubis was saying.

Liam had learned the languages of Purgatory in bits and pieces. Usually, though, he never needed to speak Purgatorian Greek or Latin or Coptic or Norse (all of which had been warped onto their own paths by linguistic drift over the centuries of separation from Earth.) Rather, he used a translation spell put on him by Meg. The translation spell turned everything he heard into English, and everything he spoke into the language the listener could understand.

It was a neat trick, and used by many diplomats across Purgatory. Meg was just one of the few who had used the casting of it as a pretext for fucking someone’s brains out.

Not that Liam was complaining.

But listening past the spell, Liam could hear that Anubis…wasn’t speaking Coptic.

“Anubis?” he asked.

Anubis tensed. “W-Who's there?”

His voice seemed softer and more deferential than before, like he was worried he was going to get kicked. Liam sighed, then wriggled around. By hopping and squirming along the ground he got his wrists into Anubis’ reach.

“I’m a friend,” Liam said, trying for simplicity. “Cut these off me.”

Anubis, rather than using his claws, just worried and tugged at the ropes. Liam sighed the instant the ropes went loose. He rolled free of the chair, then stood up. He knelt beside Anubis, undoing the god’s bindings, then yanking the hood off. His eyes widened as he looked into Anubis’ eyes. They no longer glowed. In fact, they were an entirely different color – they had turned a rich brown and had human pupils.

More, Anubis had a thick torc of crystal around his neck. Like null-dart tips, but forged into a slave collar.

Then Liam noticed Anubis’ expression. The god was gaping at Liam like he had never seen Liam before. Then, to Liam’s shock, Anubis’ muzzle turned bright red, the blush showing through his dark fur. He looked aside, squeaking quietly, his tail beating a quick, excited tattoo against the ground as his loincloth went from limp to straining within a few seconds.

Liam felt his own flush crawl up his cheeks.

Anubis thought he was cute.

Apparently.

“W-Who are you?” Anubis whispered, huskily. “You look... very strange.”

Then he looked down at himself and screamed.

It was an intense, shocking, human sounding scream that caused both guards to rush in. Anubis had leaped backwards and pressed himself flat against the wall, his eyes wide, his mouth hanging open in shock as he looked at his paws. His hands went to his furred chest, groping at his own pecs. “What? Oh Ra! Oh Ra! Oh Ra!” He wailed. “Oh Bast! Please, tell me, what have I done? What did I do? What is happening?”

The guards were reaching for their blades, their eyes wide in fear. They looked like they had no idea what Anubis was saying – which made sense. Anubis was babbling in a tongue that Liam had never heard before. Though he did note that the names of Ra and Bast hadn’t changed.

Which made it click.

Anubis was speaking ancient Coptic. It was as alien to the pirates as Latin was to an American.

“Stand down!” Liam bellowed, lifting his hand to gesture to the pirates. “Now!”

The pirates, trained to obey that tone of voice, drew their hands away from their swords. But that wouldn’t last long. Liam looked back at Anubis, taking his paws. He held them and looked deep into the god’s eyes.

“I am a friend,” he said. “You have been injured, you may have forgotten much. But we are in danger, and you need to calm down and act as if this is normal. Can you do that, Anubis?”

Anubis gaped at him. Then, slowly, he closed his muzzle. He nodded.

The guards both relaxed slightly as they saw Anubis start to calm. The lizardman growled: “Neither of you try any magic. The Captain says that null-collar will stop him from using any god magics. So don’t even try.”

Anubis nodded gravely a moment later.

The guards turned and stepped out.

Anubis gulped. But he wasn’t Anubis, was he?

Liam took his paws, squeezing them again. “Let me start. I’m Liam Vanderbilt. Who are you?” He smiled. “If I know what’s going on, I’m guessing the last thing you remember is... um, your normal life?”

Anubis gulped. “My name is Diayet. W-Where is my husband? My children?” He paused, then looked down at his chest. “M-My breasts?”

Liam blinked slowly.

“This is going to be hard to take,” he said, slowly. Anubis and he sat on the soft moss covered cave floor. Liam groped for a way to begin. He looked down, then sighed. “Okay. Were you a priestess? Of Anubis?”

Diayet nodded, slowly. “Yes.”

“I’ve met another man like you,” Liam said. “He was a great warrior. They said he fought like a god of war. Over time, the stories changed from him fighting like this god, Ares...to being the god of Ares. Somehow, those stories became the truth for him.” He licked his lips. “He became Ares. His old personality was wiped away, his memories were altered, the way a storyteller changes a story that they don’t like.”

“I remember...” Dia licked her muzzle. “I remember being lauded. We wore masks, you see. To celebrate him. And they said I was always so even handed. So fair. A-And... then the miracles came.” She looked down at her paws, at her male body. “It becomes a blur, then...”

Liam rubbed his hands on his face.

Then he started to laugh.

“Why are you laughing?” Dia asked, her eyes widening.

Liam’s laughter turned to tears. His palms pressed to his face as he tried to control the brilliant explosion of emotion that roiled through him. For years, years, he had struggled silently with his own faith. With his own thoughts on the divine and the nature of man and god. He still believed, deep in his belly, that even if Christianity was based on lies and superstition... that... the teachings mattered. That his choices mattered.

He had clung to that.

And now?

Now he felt the weight of doubt being lifted from his shoulders and it felt so good. It was like a hobble he had grown so used to that it had become invisible had been unlatched. He laughed, then choked, then coughed, wiping at his eyes. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, Dia. I’m sorry.” He sighed. “But you’re not gods. None of you are gods. None of you.”

Dia looked somewhere between offended and terrified. “Of course I’m not a god.” She paused. “You do not need to rub it in while I am still... coping with this.”

Liam nodded. His laughter subsided as he forced himself to be sober. “Of course.”

They sat in silence for a time more. Dia’s hands slid slowly along her body, feeling out the differences. Then she squeaked. “Eee!”

Liam started as he saw that Dia had, just by brushing her fingers against a tuft of fur, yanked it free. The black strands crumbled away between her fingertips, drifting to the floor like tiny flakes. Liam leaned close, his eyes widening as he saw that the patch of skin beneath looked healthy and clean. He looked up at Dia.

“Can I... touch it?” he asked.

Dia nodded, looking too terrified to speak.

Liam slowly reached out and touched the tiny bit of belly. Then his finger rubbed up – and where it touched fur, the fur simply started to flake away. Dia’s head rolled back slightly and she sighed softly, shivering. “Oh...” she whispered as Liam spread his palm. He brushed away fur in larger and large passes, revealing soft, rich brown skin beneath. Then his hand slipped up to Dia’s pecs – which felt male... until they didn’t. A sudden swell of a breast filled Liam’s palm and his eyes widened as he jerked them up from Dia’s changing chest to her face. Fur was starting to flake off around her eyes. Her muzzle started to shrink before his eyes.

“It feels... strange,” Dia crooned. But the word Liam thought she was hunting for was good. His fingers found, by instinct, the tip of her almost black nipple. It was hard as a diamond and he started to withdraw his hand. But then Dia grabbed his wrist, keeping his palm rooted there. Her voice was husky. “Don’t let me go. Please...” There was a deep, desperate need there. How long had it been since she had been touched, like this?

Millennia?

Her muzzle had shrunk completely, and the fur cascaded off her shoulders. Her face was beautiful – dusky skinned and exotic, with plush lips framing a generous mouth. A mouth that met Liam’s with a warm moan as Dia pressed her mostly nude body against him. Liam’s hands slipped along her spine, reaching down to find and cup her ass. He squeezed her, his own thoughts on escape and planning and even the nature of divinity scattering before the desperate want that radiated from her.

Dia’s tongue probed his mouth and the hot drip of her tears made him press against her all the more hungrily.

She broke away for air. Her breasts rose and fell as she panted, then shoved him onto his back so hard his artificial foot almost slipped off his leg. Liam let himself lay there as she straddled his lap, her loincloth laying flush with her thighs. Her palms caressed his chest as she shivered. “My husband was a potter,” she breathed. “Not a warrior...” Her fingers found one of the many scars that seamed Liam’s chest. Her eye grew hooded and she ducked her head forward. “G-Gods, I’m a slattern...”

“Dia,” Liam said. He wanted to tell her it was okay. That her husband was many thousands of years dead.

But that wasn’t a help. Or a comfort.

Instead, he simply took her hands in his. He held them to his mouth, kissing first one palm, then the other. He kissed her wrist, nibbling at her pulse point. Dia crooned hungrily, rolling her head slowly back. She closed her eyes, letting Liam sit upwards and kiss his way along her arm to her shoulder. He nipped at her neck, then started. He had gone to kiss her ear, but he noticed that her human ear remained missing – instead a pair of sleek, jackal ears thrust from her head. Looking at her back, he saw that she still had a tail, wagging.

It seemed there was a limit to how far back a null-collar could spin someone.

Dia panted softly. “Is it bad t-the fact you’re not him is driving me absolutely wild?” She looked down at Liam, her legs quivering as she held herself above him. Her sex dripped down onto his cock, slicking him with her moistness. Liam felt his breath catch slightly. He took Dia’s chin in his fingers, forcing her to look at him.

“Nothing you’re feeling is bad,” he whispered. “You are not a bad person for what you feel. Just for how you act.” He smiled. “And would the man you love want you to turn away from joy, now that you’ve finally become yourself again?”

Dia shook her head, blushing. “Y-Yes, but he may have words to say about the- oh my gods!” She looked down, her eyes widening as if she had just noticed Liam’s cock for the size. “You’re hung like a horse!”

Liam was sure that, at some point, he’d tire of hearing women gasp those words.

That time had not yet come.

Dia actually shifted backwards, her knees sliding along the soft moss of the cave. Her breasts pressed to Liam’s thighs as she leaned herself down so she could look straight at his cock. Her jackal ears perked upwards and her tail started to wag and Liam remembered why Japanese catgirls were so fucking popular.

They were fucking adorable!

“A-Are you a god too?” Dia whispered, looking up and down his cock. “Or...or were you blessed by one? Bast?”

“It’s all natural Earthican,” Liam said, grinning down at Dia. The goddess - a description Liam would have used even if she had never had powers - leaned forward. Her nose flared as she breathed in his smell, and her tongue darted out. Feather light, she started to lick up his cock, tasting him as Liam rolled his head back and let himself slump against his arms. That felt nice. Her tongue was slightly rougher than a human’s, but still soft enough that he could enjoy the feel of it as she lapped her tongue from base to tip, her soft lips pressing to the head of his cock. Her tongue ringed around the softness of his foreskin as she drew her legs under her – so she’d be able to free up her hands to grip the base of his cock. She started to stroke him as her head bobbed on the first few inches of his dick, her moans soft and eager and filling the cave with sensuality.

Dia drew her mouth back, gasping quietly.

“Gods, you even taste better than my husband,” she whispered, then went back to sucking. She dropped one hand between her thighs. Her fingers started to stroke her own sex as her slurping mouth took another inch into her mouth. Her eyes screwed up and her ears started to press back against her head with the strain of taking more cock than she ever had in her life. She worked her way down, then slurped her way back up. Gasping, she looked up at Liam. “I want this in me. I want... want...” She trailed off.

Liam didn’t ask questions. He had a feeling he knew what she was looking for – and his arms opened, then folded around her as she crawled atop him. His hand slipped along Dia’s back, finding her ass. He squeezed the base of her tail and she let out a tiny, pleased yip as he lifted her up, then rocked his hips to grind his cock against her hot, wanting sex. Her pussy spread for him as she let her weight and his driving hips slam his cock deep, deep, deep inside of her. Her mouth opened in almost mute shock, then her teeth sank into his shoulder as she tried to stay quiet.

Liam groaned low in his throat, losing himself in the familiar joy of sex.

Dia clung to him, gasping quietly in his ear. Even without chomping down on him, she managed to keep her voice under control as she rode his member, her eyes narrowing to thin slits as her face went utterly slack with pleasure. Liam felt her ability to move growing weaker and weaker – her whole body twitched with the feeling of her orgasms. Pent up by untold years as a man, her needs were sending her to heights that Liam could hardly imagine...but he could feel them as her pussy clenched on his cock with eager convulsions.

And so, Liam pushed himself to the side, rolling Dia so that she sprawled underneath them, her cunt almost squeezing him out of her body. Her back arched and she bit down on her own wrist to keep from screaming in pleasure as Liam planted his palms on the ground above her shoulders and started to slam into her. His balls slapped her ass with a noise so loud that he was shocked the guards didn’t come in to investigate. He fucked her like a drum, her legs spread as wide and wantonly as any woman he had ever been with.

Dia’s back arched again as another orgasm rocked through her. Her breasts almost slapped her own chin as she rocked beneath him and Liam let himself go. His body tightened and his muscles drew taut against his skin as his balls surged and he felt that familiar, wonderful sensation of climax. His head ducked forward and he looked into Dia’s eyes as her face went slack, her head rolling to the side as she rocked against him. His cum pumped into her sex, filling her to the brim, then dripping out around his cock as he remained hilted inside of her.

Quiet came afterwards – the hammering sound of his heart overpowering in his ears.

“Wow,” Dia whispered.

Liam leaned forward. He kissed at her neck, his lips almost touching the null-collar that still wrapped around her throat. Just being near it made his skin feel slightly numb. He kissed her chin, then her lips and she kissed him back. Then, quietly, she whispered: “You’re starting to squish me.”

Liam chuckled, then slipped out of her with a soft, wet slurp. The two of them sprawled on the mossy ground beside one another. Dia’s breasts mashed against his chest as she crawled half onto him, her arm wrapped around him. Her fingers traced a scar on his shoulder, her nose rubbing against his neck as she lounged there, the picture of languid bliss. Liam’s fingers traced the outline of her ear.

“What’s the plan?” she murmured, quietly.

“Well...” Liam sighed. “You’re going to make it a fuck of a lot easier to resist interrogation.” He chuckled. “So long as they stick to using seduction as their primarily method.”

Dia shook her head. “I doubt we shall be so fortunate.”

Seven

Fizit slipped her hand along Brax’s head as her son squirmed in her lap. Burning with energy and excitement – he had taken word that Liam had been captured and held by pirates with an excited ‘cool!’, a phrase and an attitude that he could have only learned from his father – he had been released from his lessons early today. Begging had gotten him on her lap as she sat on the signal station on the roof of the palace, but the task had proved less exciting than the young hellion had hoped.

That, of course, had been Fizit’s plan.

“Are pirates really scary?” Brax asked, suddenly.

Fizit paused, looking away from the winking information streaming along the watch stations. The messages were slower than she was used to. Apparently the pirates were signaling using a fire on their island and were doing so in open code, rather than using the ciphers that the Cross Guard used. This meant that the valkyrie who worked 22-09 had to not only wait for the pirates to send the signal, to confirm they had the signal properly, but then they had to encode it once they had it, and transmit it.

It was unlikely anyone other than the pirates could see what their signals were, as they were on an island which sat opposite to a vast desert and their tiny firelight would only be visible to someone with a telescope. But the watch stations themselves were, ironically, watched by nearly every spy and king in Purgatory. And so, to keep the news of Liam’s capture as quiet as possible, the stations weren’t merely signaling in code – they were further enciphering it with the latest tricks.

The actual sentence, once decoded, didn’t say: Liam is being ransomed for five thousand gold coins, fifty two kegs of gunpowder, thirty eight muskets and ammo to spare.

Rather, it was a knotty paragraph of trivialities, sly references, code phrases, and outright gibberish, mixed up and out of order.

Fizit drew her mind from that tangled mess to consider her son’s question. The easy answer would be to lie to him. Pirates were not scary, his father was fine, was going to be fine, and he had nothing to worry about. But Brax was growing up fast. And Liam, for all that he tried to be a good king, would never stay behind the front lines. Fizit made a face at the very idea. The instant the war between Babylon and Ares rejoined, Liam would be out there.

Leading troops.

Swinging a sword – even if he still muttered about he never should have let his old longsword go.

“Pirates can be dangerous,” Fizit said. “Anyone who is desperate enough – or violent enough – to rely on stealing from others to make money can be dangerous. But they’re not the most dangerous.” She smiled, slightly. “There are people who are far scarier.”

Brax nodded. “Cause...” He kicked his feet. “I was thinking. I know Dad’s going to be fine, but...if pirates are scary, he might be scared. You might not know it, but Dad told me that he’s scared a lot of the time.”

Fizit sighed. She leaned her head down and kissed the top of her son’s head.

“I know, Brax. Now.” She pointed up at the watch station above them. It was flashing the signal that it was going to be sending a new string of messages at them. “Let's write down the dots and dashes together.”

Brax groaned. “Can I go to bed instead?”

“No.”

***

Tethis rubbed her hands together and turned to face Meg. She was sprawled on a slab table – similar to the kind that Tethis would have used to embalm a corpse. If Meg considered it uncomfortable (or unsettling), she made no sign of it. Instead, she wriggled and squirmed, trying to get her wings comfortable underneath her.

“Are you sure I don’t need to be naked?” Meg asked, grinning.

“No, you do not have to be naked,” Tethis said, shaking her head. “Clothes won’t interfere with the magic.”

Meg nodded.

“And your titties definitely will,” Tethis said, trying to stay deadpan. Her squeak and blush mid “titties” rather ruined the effect. Meg still laughed, then lifted her arms over her head, her eyes closed. She assumed a pose somewhere between salacious and incendiary; her breasts thrust into the air, her spine arched, her thighs half cocked as she moaned, as if in the throws of orgasm.

“Fuck my brains out, Tethis!”

Tethis rolled her eyes. “I’ve never used this spell on someone who's not in a coma. So, tell me if it hurts.” She started to make the passes. But, as she had already practiced on Liv, the hand gestures and the soft command words spoken in the Ancients’ language came smoothly, and within a few moment, Meg’s brain was displayed in the air above the woman’s head. Meg blinked up at her own cerebellum and shook her head slowly, then rolled it from side to side, then tried cocking it.

Her brain remained stubbornly fixed in position.

“Cool!” She sat up, and then grabbed onto the illusion before Tethis could so much as squeak. Meg grinned as she started to rotate and spin the image around – then laughed. “Look! Parts of it are brightening up!”

“What?” Tethis asked. But Meg was right. Parts of the brain flared and crackled, as if lightning was surging through the image. Before Tethis could even begin to consider what this meant, Meg bit her lower lip and then looked past the illusion at Tethis. Her eyes roved along the gobliness’ curvaceous body, and Tethis felt a hot flush rush through her as she realized that Meg was, well, checking her out.

No matter how many times Meg did that, it always felt…

There was a middle ground between shame and eroticism. A burning heat that started behind the cheeks and between the thighs. Tethis felt her nipples perk up and harden under those electric blue eyes and Meg chuckled softly. Her tongue slipped along her lips and she casually looked back at her brain. She nodded slowly.

“So, Liam’s right. Different parts of the brain light up when I use them...” She spun the illusion around and showed Tethis parts of her brain were roiling. “I say we call this the Fuckisphere.”

Tethis snorted, then slapped at Meg’s hands until she had let the illusion go. A low, plaintive wail echoed down the corridor. Meg’s head jerked up.

“That’s Marion – oh, she sounds upset,” she whispered, standing up.

“Uh, wait, wait!” Tethis grabbed onto Meg’s wrist. “Don’t you have nursemaids for that?”

Meg looked at her. Then she looked at the ground and kicked her foot. “Yeah, but...”

“But what?” Tethis asked, forcing her back to sit down on the slab. “Kings and queens have servants, I’m not sure why you look so guilty.”

“I’m not!” Meg blushed. “It’s just. Liam. He keeps talking about how he doesn’t want his children to be strangers.”

Tethis sighed, then smiled. “If it helps, I believe that Marion – being a half elf – is going to be a child for a very long time.” She paused. Marion. Brax. She didn’t have time for the complex sprawl of emotions that rushed through her at thinking about them. So, instead, she took hold of Meg’s brain illusion and unwound it. She whistled softly. Even Meg was struck dumb by what she saw. Her brain was filled with crystal chunks. Most were strangely jagged in pattern and formation, but most of them connected to the rest of the brain via thin, stringy tissue.

“We knew that valks had crystal in their bodies,” Tethis whispered. “From the embalming of those who adopted Coptic ways but...”

“But?” Meg asked.

“W-Well...” Tethis coughed. “Early Coptic scholars followed the Aristotelian theorics that stated that the brain existed primarily to, um, cool blood.”

Meg frowned.

“So, they just yanked it out through the nose with a hook,” Tethis admitted.

“What!?” Meg squawked, her wings mantling. Her hands went protectively to her nose.

Tethis flushed. “I haven’t believed that for at least two years! Liam set me straight. Now!” She pointed. “This crystal nodule is deepest in your brain and, if you look close, you can see that a lot of the tiny connections are severed. So, if we just fix those, I believe that you should be able to fly.” She chewed her lower lip. “But, just to be sure, I want you to close your eyes and imagine being able to fly.”

It was Meg’s turn to chew her lower lip. Then she nodded. Her eyes closed and she breathed in, which did remarkable things to her chest. It was a statement on how interested Tethis was in the illusion that she barely noticed the display.

Meg’s brain started to glow – deep in the center of the illusion, crackling around the damaged structures. In the light of the illusion, Tethis could see tears drawing glittering, diamond bright tracks on Meg’s cheeks. Tethis slowly reached up. Her palms glittered and she bit her lip.

“Let's see if this works...”

***

“Liam,” Dia said.

“Yes, Dia?” Liam asked.

“Can I just say...” Dia looked slowly around, craning her head back to try and get a glimpse of Liam. Liam could see the motion in the shadows cast by the mast. “That this has been a really bad trip and I wish I had stayed back in Uten-Ha?”

Liam laughed.

The two of them were chained to the largest mast of the pirate ship. Pirates hurried about them and, to their credit, were ignoring them for the most part, despite the fact Dia was clad in nothing but a loincloth. Her beautiful, perfectly bronzed Coptic skin gleamed in the Purgatorian sunlight like she had been freshly oiled, and every movement of the ship seemed to make her breasts jiggle more fetchingly. Her ears were pinned back against her head in distaste, which did somewhat ruin the effect.

Liam and her had woken earlier this morning to find Quinn and Kailey arriving in the cave, for more interrogations.

It had... gone well.

“Who the fuck is that?” Kailey snarled, pointing at Diayet, who had been sprawled on Liam, languid and happy with her fucking.

“Uh-” Liam jerked from sleep to wakefulness, kicking himself for not keeping a better watch, for not being ready when the two goblinesses arrived. Quinn and Kailey strode in, Quinn holding up a baton, magical energies swirling around it. Liam drew his legs up under him and sprang up, ready to stand between the terrified Diayet and the two goblinesses.

“I am Anubis! God of the Underworld,” Dia said, pushing herself to her feet, her tail wagging as she brushed her hands through her hair. “I simply have been enjoying myself with this handsome buck.”

“I... what?” Quinn looked down at her baton. The magic that swirled there had glowed a bright gold – a truthsaying spell? Liam’s previous interactions with a truthsaying had been highly unpleasant. But that had been a godly power, not a magical spell. He wondered how the arcane spell reached the same conclusions, or if one was more effective than the other. Then he had to focus on Kailey pointing her sword at his throat. The other woman trembled with fury as she glared at him.

“Is she telling the truth?”

“Yes?” Quinn said at the same time Liam nodded.

“Listen, uh,” Liam said, his finger going to the blade, gently pushing it away from his throat. Kailey let him do it – too shocked to do anything but. “Let's talk about this. Like rational people.”

Kailey snorted. “You preferred it when I was grinding on you.”

“Grinding?” Dia asked. Her tail lifted up, and her ears flattened back against her head.

Liam chuckled, nervously. “Um, yes, well!” he quickly moved forward. “You want the codes and ciphers. But that’s not going to happen. Every agent of Babylon knows that the instant any of us get captured – that is, anyone who knows the codes – we’ll change them. We have dozens of codes ready for just this sort of thing.”

Kailey and Quinn looked at one another.

“Fuck,” Kailey growled.

“However,” Liam said. “You can still send a message in the clear.”

“That’s not why we want the codes!” Kailey growled, her eyes flashing angrily. “We’re... we just want to handle this safely.”

Liam bit his lower lip. If the two pirates had the codes for the watch stations, they could read the communications winked between them. They could, for instance, read that an attack was coming. Or if a ship was being rerouted to a new location. It’d be perfect for pirates – and easily as valuable as he was. He brushed his hands through his hair.

“If Anubis and I are on the ship,” he said. “There won’t be any funny business. Fizit will be in charge, and she’s smart. She knows that it’s better to pay ransom than it is to risk killing, well, me.”

That was how it had been in the dark ages, at least, and in large swaths of Purgatory. Noble captives were ransomed back to their cities or sold into slavery if their families didn’t pay up. That kind of stick and stick approach to diplomacy did make a kind of twisted sense. If someone was worth more alive, you were less likely to kill them – and they’d be less likely to kill you when they were the one winning.

But Liam knew that the United State’s more hard nosed, modern sensibility had started to filter through him and the books he had brought into Babylon. More than a few of them had the phrase "We do not negotiate with terrorists" in them. He badly wished for access to wikipedia right now, because he was honestly not sure if that phrase was true at all, or if it was just Hollywood bravado.

Then, as often opened in Purgatory, someone arrived with news to completely alter the scene.

The vines opened and one of the human pirates – the big, burly guy that Liam faintly remembered from the half-memories of being kept a hair’s breadth above death on the deck – stuck his head in.

“Captain,” he said. “The lookouts have spotted something. A fleet’s launched from the Hellenic coast. Ares.”

Kailey swore under her breath. “How big, Thaddious?”

“Five ships,” Thaddious said. “Can’t tell much more, they’re shrouded in a fog. If we didn’t have an angel on them, it’d just look like a storm.”

Liam’s eyes widened.

Kailey grinned. She turned to face him.

“Okay, then. You refused the carrot,” she purred, walking forward.  Her palm pressed against his belly. “How about the stick?”

Liam frowned down at her -  but she was rapidly growing. Her eyes were nearly level with his once she had finished expanding, and her palm was blazing hot against his belly. Her finger traced the outline of one of his abs as she whispered, huskily. “You tell us the codes and we warn your navy that Ares is coming for them.”

“You don’t know that,” Liam said, his jaw taut.

“Oh, we do,” Kailey purred, walking around him. Her finger traced the lines of his hips, her eyes darting down to admire his butt. Liam was fairly good at ignoring being naked, but Kailey was drawing attention to it again. His cock started to stiffen slightly under the attention. His throat bobbed as he gulped. Kailey leaned over his shoulder and whispered in his ear. “Those ships are coming for us. And we’ll be leading them right to your ships. Who might come to negotiate a ransom? That busty lizardgirl of yours? Maybe that valk?”

Liam frowned.

“Who's the one panting like a bitch in heat now?”

It would almost have been easier to bear if her voice held any malice. But she sounded almost gleeful. Like someone in a friendly board game who had just taken a dominating lead.

Liam ducked his head forward.

“Fine,” he said. “But the cipher and the codes are going to have changed.”

“If they’ve changed, they’ve changed,” Quinn said, quietly. Then, she listened as Liam belted out the codes. They were made to rhyme with one another, to make it easier to memorize the long list of passwords, ciphers, and other systems. Once Liam was finished, he felt as completely wrung out. But then Quinn pulled out her baton and knelt down. She reached between her breasts and whipped out a scroll she had tucked there. It was blank, but she whispered soft words as she poured ink from a glass vial she retrieved from a belt pouch onto the scroll. The scroll writhed.

“What are you doing?” Dia asked. Kailey slipped away from Liam, rolling her hips with a grin as she walked.

“Oh, just a bit of sympathy,” Kailey said, grinning. “One problem with translating espionage from one world to another... sometimes you miss things.” Her voice dripped with gloating pride as her lover stood, holding up the scroll. On it was a list of codes and ciphers that Liam almost recognized. His eyes widened as he realized that they had to be the codes that the Cross Guard had switched to once he had been captured.

“How?” he whispered, hoarsely.

“Objects once in contact remain in contact,” Quinn said, quoting the Law of Contagion, which he had heard from Tethis several times before. “You keep your codes in the same vault, to ensure protection. It’s just like transferring heat between your watch stations and the kilns in which they were forged.”

Liam sagged.

“Tie them to the mast,” Kailey grinned. “We’re to set sail within the hour.”

Kailey’s voice jerked Liam from his reverie.

“You should have just let us fuck you,” she said, standing before him as he leaned against the mast. She had shrunk from her full form to her gobliness sized one and, so, had a great view of his kilt as it laid across his thighs and his crotch.

“Well, you never know how things are going to turn out,” Liam said. “I never knew Lost was going to suck so much, but I stuck with it for five seasons.”

Kailey looked quizzical. Then she shook her head as a lookout called.

“Babylonian ships! Dead ahead!”

Liam craned his head around as Dia shifted in her chains.

The Babylonian ships had just gotten close enough to be easily identified with the human eye – which meant that they were a few minutes away from vanishing beneath the waves. He saw that they had launched three of their modified triremes. Sturdy, built for ramming, the Hellenic warships were supposed to be phased out for ships rigged more like the Morrigan’s Kiss and armed with broadsides. Not every ship could be a steamship like the Constitution. Liam’s guts knotted at the memory of the crew, Captain Harold.

And the fucking money.

One of the downsides of being Free Lord. He had to count every coin that had been sent to the bottom by one bomb.

“I now understand half of the war on terror,” he muttered.

Dia hissed. “Your ships, they look like Greek ships.”

“They have some advantages over the Greek ships you’re remembering,” Liam whispered back.

“I hope so,” Dia said. “Though, such ships were enough for Troyus.”

Liam would have immediately asked for more information when a resounding boom echoed behind him. He craned his head around, but could only see the sturdiness of the mast and the bronze chains tying him too it. Voices cried out in alarm from the crew of the ship, and pirates started to rush about. Quinn bellowed something in response to a question: “It’s some kind of mass geomantic foci, similar to the event horizon created by the-”

A blast of hot, humid air rushed across the Kiss’ deck. The sails strained and several ropes snapped like gunshots. A few crew were bowled over. An elf, who Liam had seen scampering around as if they were perpetually worried about being kicked, was sent pitching over the railing to splash into the waters with a screech. When the blast of wind faded, Kailey bellowed.

“Bring us about! Now! Now! Now!”

The ship started to spin.

And Liam saw what had come behind them.

A storm – already beginning to disperse in the air, the fog banks spreading outwards and growing thinner – had swirled up. But in its heart were five triremes, each one painted the brilliant gold and harsh black of Ares and his Monodeists. At the head of one of the ships, standing on the ram, beside a pair of glittering cannons, was a Paladin. Sword raised above his head, and his voice booming impossibly loud.

“Ahead! Ahead! God wills it!”

The Monodeist ships surged forward on the waves.

The Babylonian ships rushed forward.

And the Morrigan’s Kiss was caught in the middle.

“What do we do, Cap?” a pirate shouted.

“Kailey!” Liam shouted. “Kailey!”

The Captain – who was looking between the two fleets that rattled towards one another – snapped her head around to glare at him.

Liam glared right back. “You might be a pirate. But Ares is a goddamn fucking lunatic,” he said, grinning. “And, as Free Lord of Babylon, I can offer you something way better than a measly five thousand gold coins. I can give you a Letter of Marque and free reign.”

Kailey looked at him, her brow furrowing. “A what?”

“If you help us kick their asses!” Liam snarled, jerking his chin at the onrushing Monodeist fleet. “You get half their loot.”

“Two thirds,” Kailey shot back.

“You’re bargaining now!?” Dia shouted, sounding appalled. “They’re right there!”

“Two thirds.” Kailey had to shout over the boom of the cannons. The Monodeists had clearly not fought in naval combat in some time, or at least, they had not learned how to use cannons in it. Their guns fired far too soon, and the cannonballs skipped over the water before sinking harmlessly beneath the waves.

“Fine, two thirds,” Liam said. “But cut me free at least!”

“Quinn!” Kailey said, already starting to grow. Her deck hissed and steamed under her feet. “Get them free. And get the collar off Anubis.”

Liam tensed as Quinn rushed forward and undid the latching on the chains. As she yanked it free, Liam jerked away, rubbing his wrists with a hiss. He then immediately leaped to the rear of the ship, where the rudder and the flag was flapping. He grabbed the flag, using his greater height to be able to reach out and snag the far corner. Looking at the Babylonian ships, he yanked the flag down, then up, then down, then up.

Signaling in semaphore: King Free.

He saw the faint glint of a telescope. Then a signal flag winked back. They were using the old cipher – and he read it out, muttering under his breath.

Orders?

He flashed.

Join battle.

The Babylonian ships started to break formation – moving so that two would skirt around the rear of the Morrigan’s Kiss, while the slightly larger one would head around the prow. As their sails belled out and their rowers started to hit the sea with determination, Liam swung his head around, trying to get a feel for the Monodeists. They were still rushing closer and closer.

He’d need to get Tethis onto figuring out how they had managed a mass teleport. Likely used the same ‘storm power generation’ system as Brax the Golden had used during the war. But then Thaddious stepped up to him and under hand tossed him a pistol, then a sword. Thaddious looked grim.

“I hear you’re on our side now,” he said. “Listen. You may be King of Babylon. But right now, you do what Kailey says. Got it?”

Liam snorted. “I don’t got any choice, do I?” He checked the pistol and tried to not cringe at the quality.

“Good,” Thaddious said. “Now-”

And his voice was lost in the unending roar of the broadside. Cannons leaped, one after the other, as their crews fired them at the onrushing Monodeist triremes. Smoke and flames leaped from each cannon’s mouth, filling the air with a bank of black powder clouds that were almost as thick as the teleportation storm had been. The winds blew, almost lazily, taking tufts of the smoke and pushing them up and to the side. Some trailed from the sails, others blew into Liam’s face directly.

Then the cloud was gone and, through the clear air, they could see the Monodeist ships approaching.

Utterly unharmed.

“You cack-handed lubberly twits!” Kailey bellowed – her form expanding as she grew larger. “Aim your bloody cannons! Aim! Aim! Aim!”

One of the guns had been knocked ajar, the mounting shaken loose by the force of the gunpowder. Kailey stepped forward and grabbed onto the cannon, then lifted it, seeming to not even notice that the crystal was still sizzling hot from being fired. Then she set it back in the cradle and bellowed.

“Reload!”

The Monodeists had reloaded their guns and come all the closer. They fired.

A cannon ball whisked through the rigging of the Kiss. Another hit the railing about fifteen feet away from where Liam stood – filling the air with a shower of wooden shrapnel. A pirate woman sprawled next to Liam, her eyes wide with shock. A chunk of wood the size of his thumb stuck out of her left eye, pointing at him. Almost accusing. But not all of the cannon balls were aimed at the Kiss. Several of the Babylonian ships had taken damage.

Then the Babylonians fired. Their guns roared and boomed and cracked. Liam watched as a Monodeist’s ship had five of their oars smashed to kindling by a single lucky shot.

“Ready!” a voice rang out.

“Ready!” another one joined in – then another. The cannons were being loaded. Kailey shouted orders to the helmsman, who started to bring the ship between two of the Monodeist ships. One of them was turning to bring its ram to face their ship. The other was the one who had lost several oars at once. Both were slightly too slow. And then, before Liam’s eyes, the cannons started to glow a pale golden.

He looked back and saw Dia. Her eyes were closed and she radiated a pale golden light. Quinn stood beside her, looking stunned as she watched a god at work – the null-collar in her hands.

The cannons roared.

Smoke shrouded the Kiss.

Cleared.

And the cheers that started were damped into pure confusion. Every single cannonball had struck the enemy, as if guided by the hand of a god. They glowed with the same golden light that the cannons did. But rather than sinking into wood and shattering planking, the balls had frozen, half an inch away from both ships. Liam looked from one to the other, at the hovering balls. Then the golden light faded and the balls splashed into the ocean.

“God wills it!”

The bellow came from both ships – slightly offset, as it came from two throats. And two Paladins emerged. Both were heavily armored and armed with silvery longswords. Liam’s heart jolted.

No.

No, that’s impossible, he thought.

But the two were springing across the distance between the ships as the two Triremes rushed forward under oar and sail. A ram smashed along the side of the Kiss, causing everyone aboard to flail to try and keep their footing. The other didn’t strike, but simply bumped up against the edge. Hellenic marines swarmed over both sides of the railing, swords raised.

But the Paladins were all that Liam could focus on.

Both were clad in…

Armed with…

Steel.

Tempered, battle-hardened steel. He watched as one Paladin hacked down two pirates in a single brutal swing, his sword cleaving through them as if they were nothing. Liam shook himself and lifted his pistol. He pulled the trigger – and the gunpowder fizzled. He glared at the pistol.

“Piece of pirate crap!” he snarled as a Hellene – fortunately, armed with bronze and armored in leather – rushed him. He blocked the sword blow, clubbed the man in the temple with his pistol, then thrust his sword through his neck. He looked around, and saw that Quinn was using her magic to fire bolts of energy desperately into Hellenic marines that rushed towards her, while Dia was trying to use her magics to stop enemies from overwhelming them from the other side.

Kailey was shouting: “To me! To me!”

Liam launched himself forward. He threw himself at the men rushing at Dia and Quinn. His shoulder smashed into a man who was lifting his sword to bring down on Quinn’s head. The man went sprawling and Liam swung left, then right. He didn’t kill anyone, but he did drive Hellenes backwards, opening a momentary hole that Quinn rushed through. Dia sprinted afterwards, lashing out with her palm. She slapped a man with a bolt of godly energy that turned him into so much red mist. Then the men were hemming them in, surrounding them as Liam put his back to Kailey. His living foot skidded along the water slick deck, but the metal of his artificial foot remained rooted, giving him a better stance as he swept his gaze about the deck.

The rest of the crew were either dead or raising their hands in surrender.

A great deal of Hellenic swords pointed at them.

“I picked a great time to work for you, didn’t I, Vanderbilt?” Kailey growled.

“Lord Vanderbilt!”

The voice that boomed from across the deck was only slightly muffled by the helmet. The Paladin in question had his sword resting on one armored shoulder. Liam had to admit, he was an awe-inspiring sight. For the longest time, he had thought the only steel that had been on Purgatory had been his old longsword. Then, after said longsword had been sucked out of the hole that had been blown in the skin of Purgatory by the death of Sysminor, he had resigned himself to working with bronze and crystal and wood.

This man was armored from head to toe in steel plate. It wasn't the same as European plate mail. Rather, it looked like someone had taken a Greek hoplite and recast them in steel and leather and chain. His face was covered by a scowling mask that looked like it had been transplanted from Feudal Japan. Behind it, he was gloating.

“So, it was as we suspected. You were the one behind stealing the cannons,” the Paladin chuckled. “Such a cunning blow, to come to such an ignominious end.”

Liam glanced at Kailey. She looked offended, but didn’t speak up.

Liam looked back at the Paladin and called back: “It’s not over yet.”

“God has offered fifty pounds of gold for your head,” the Paladin said, aiming his blade at him. “So, I believe it has.”

Liam glanced up and away, looking to see if the rest of the naval battle had turned one way or the other – but the other ships were too shrouded in fire and smoke for him to see anything but the faint motion of hulls and sails. They could be either Babylonian or Monodeist, friend or foe. He bit his lower lip, then blinked. He pointed.

“What the fuck is that?”

The Paladin snorted. “This? Is this the best the Godkiller could manage? The look behind you t-”

The javelin slammed through the Paladin’s helmet, exploded out of the eye-hole of the mask, and thudded into the deck with a splinter of wood. The Paladin stood stock still as a statue of living clay soared from the heavens in a curving parabola. Wings exploded from the back of the statue, shattering clay apart in a spray of dust and smoke. Tile chunks – still glowing with magical runes and crackling with the residue of magical transference – clattered into the deck and splashed into the seas.

The Paladin’s lifeless corpse went flying through the air and smashed into the mast with a crack as loud as a cannon shot. Then it tumbled down and landed, face first, before Liam.

Megaera Vanderbilt, the First Lady of the Free City of Babylon, rolled her shoulders as she stood from her landing, her wings fanning outwards. Her chest was clad in a gleaming bronze chest-piece, while her left arm had a shining buckler of smooth and polished crystal strapped to it. Her right was already hefting up her second javelin as she beamed.

“Who’s next!?”

Eight

The Hellenes stood in shock. Hell, Liam was in shock. He had traced the line of Meg’s flight and it looked as if she had started from Babylon, shot past the sun, and swung behind the Paladin in a single smooth motion. He knew that valks had long dreamed of making a ‘straight shot’ - flying from one side of Purgatory to another - but the heat of the sun had made that an impossibility. Well, an impossibility to someone who wanted to survive.

But Meg had done it.

And as he stood there, she threw her javelin. It shot across the deck with a crack, its course ending with an unmusical clunk. Liam whipped his head back in time to see the other Paladin charging forward, his sword gleaming with flames, the javelin clattering to the ground beside him. Meg threw again – and again, the Paladin parried it.

Meg beat her wings and soared upwards as the Paladin swung. His sword smashed into the rear of a cannon, knocking it off its carriage and sending it rolling across the deck. Several marines were sent tumbling to the ground, screaming in pain. As Meg soared overhead, Liam heard Kailey bellow – a wordless scream of wrath. She picked up a pair of Hellenic marines, squeezing their necks and then hurling them into the mass of the enemy.

The pirates who hadn’t been slain charged from cover, swords flashing.

But then Liam had to focus entirely on the Paladin who was rushing for him. He moved with astounding speed, armor or no armor. Liam ducked underneath his sword swing, then stepped backwards. His feet skidded along the blood slicked deck and he lifted his sword to parry the backswing. Sword met sword and Liam’s blade simply dropped to the deck in two pieces.

“I hate not having the nice sword,” Liam hissed. He stepped backwards again and his thighs bumped against a cannon. He glanced away from the Paladin – who was carefully stepping over corpses. That armor would make tripping and falling a real bad idea. The cannon, though, was loaded and primed, the crew sprawled in death around it.

Liam sprang backwards.

The Paladin stepped up, sword swinging.

Liam yanked on the cannon’s firing cord. Flint sparked and the gunpowder went off, sending a cannon ball right into the deck of the docked ship beside the Kiss. But, more importantly, the cannon bucked into the Paladin and sent him sprawling onto the deck. Liam looked around for a weapon – but then Meg landed beside him with a grunt. She hurled her javelin and the Paladin swung his blade around, despite being sprawled on his back. The javelin struck the blade and shattered into pieces.

“This guy just won’t-” Meg snarled.

The Paladin lifted his left hand up. “Smite her, my Lord!” he bellowed.

Liam slammed his shoulder into Meg’s and the two of them sprawled on the deck as a bolt of golden light shot from the Paladin’s palm. It clipped the corner of the forecastle, exploding wood and sending up a spew of smoke into the air. Meg groaned and sat up.

“The fuck was that?”

“Dia!” Liam started to stand. “Your collar!”

Across the deck, standing next to Kailey – who stood atop a heap of bodies and was surrounded by increasingly terrified marines – was Dia. She put her hand to the collar that Quinn had removed from her neck. It hung loose around her shoulders, dangling there. She under-handed it to Liam as the Paladin staggered to his feet, golden flames writhing around his shoulders. His sword seemed to glow.

“Deus vult!” he roared, charging at Liam and Meg.

Liam caught the collar, and snapped it around the Paladin’s wrist. The collar clicked home.

The golden flames vanished like a light switch had been flicked. The sword remained steel, but it no longer glittered as if it had been coated in raw magic. The Paladin staggered and stumbled to the side, as if his strength had been shut off with the golden light. He looked around, then down at his wrist.

“God?” he asked. Plaintive, like he expected a response.

“He ain’t listening,” Meg growled, yanking her last javelin from her pouch and hurling it in the same smooth motion. The javelin smashed into the man’s neck, tearing through the thinner chain, and finishing its flight by burying itself up to the grip into the mast of the Morrigan’s Kiss.

The Paladin clutched at the blood fountaining from his neck, seeping past his articulated gauntlets. He staggered and collapsed to the ground. Liam slowly relaxed as the remaining marines raised their hands in surrender. Liam leaned against Meg, nuzzling her gently.

The Paladin began to gurgle out a laugh. He lifted one hand, weakly, then sprawled back on the deck.

Liam and Meg turned, wordlessly.

The Monodeist fleet had rallied and the Babylonian ships had joined them. New Monodeist flags flapped on them, and the decks of the Babylonian ships were slicked with blood. The Paladins and the Hellenic marines that thronged on their decks could not hope to sail them. But in the current stillness of wind and wave, they didn’t need to. They simply had to load the cannons. Liam groaned.

“Oh come on...” he snarled.

Distantly, they could hear the shouts of the Hellenes. The order of loading cannons. The beat of feet on the decks. Kailey was starting to try and marshal what was left of her crew onto the guns. Meg sighed, patting her leather pouch.

“I knew I should have brought two,” she muttered.

“You can still get out of here,” Liam whispered back.

Meg’s incredibly rude response was lost in the sound of the world tearing apart. And, before Liam’s eyes, a sphere of crackling energy appeared above the leftmost Monodeist ship. A large, dun-colored rectangle dropped through it and Liam had just enough time to recognize the brutal shape of a US Army Humvee – complete with mounted machine gun – before it struck the Monodeist trireme amidship, smashed through the hull, and sank into the waves. The Monodeist ship started to fold in half, prow and stern rising upwards, then splashing down. The crew hadn’t even had time to cry out in surprise.

The Paladin aboard the ship vanished beneath the waves nearly as fast as the Hummer.

Meg blinked.

Liam blinked.

“What the fuck?” they said at the same time.

Another resounding roar. Another flare of light. This time, a crate clearly labeled as being the property of the United States Air Force smashed to the deck about five feet to the left of Liam, crushing several corpses beneath its weight with a rude noise. Meg squeaked and leaped backwards into Liam. Liam gaped at the crate – reading the smaller stenciling underneath the starry logo. They were an arcane list of letters and numbers that surely was the crate’s tracking number.

The third roar came with a loud scream.

Liam watched as a figure in camouflage patterned Army green with rifle and backpack and more dropped about five feet and landed with a grunt on the deck of the central Monodeist trireme. He staggered with the impact and swung around, backing towards the prow as the rest of the stunned crew gaped at him.

“Meg!” Liam hissed. “Meg, get him, now!”

“Kill the invader!” the Paladin shouted, aiming his sword at the man.

The man hadn’t been given the same translation spells that Liam had.

But he clearly had been educated in what a collection of swords and flintlock pistols meant.

The sound of the assault rifle going off stunned Liam. And he had fired an AR-15 at a shooting range, when he had been a teenager. But after two years of swords, bows, magic, and memories of cheap action movies, the real thing was chilling. More chilling was the number of Hellenic crew who went sprawling on the deck. Even the Paladin went down in a spray of sparks and blood. The man - the soldier -snapped his magazine out of his rifle, flipped it, slapped it back in, worked the chamber, swung his rifle around.

The ship next to him was swarming with men – all of them grabbing for muskets and rifles.

He opened fire on them.

Liam’s heart was in his throat as Meg swooped overhead. She waited until the soldier was reloading again, then dove down. She landed beside him, arms lifted in a clear show of non-violence.

Whatever words they exchanged, the soldier looked from the stunned Monodists – the other triremes were beating away, the men shouted to their oars by the surviving Paladins – to Meg. Then he turned his back to Meg. Meg grabbed him, beat her wings, and soared up into the air. When she landed, Liam got his first look at another American in what felt like two lifetimes.

He was a she.

And she was pretty. Her hair was dark black, while her eyes were a rich brown. She looked Asian, which made Liam realise the closest thing to an Asian person he had seen in Purgatory was an elf. She was tall for an Asian woman with lean muscles, a strong jaw and a smooth skin.

Her uniform had her name stenciled on her chest: S. Fong.

Liam held out his hand in the stunned silence that seemed to have settled across the whole of Purgatory.

“Liam Vanderbilt,” he said.

The woman nodded. She took his hand, then shook it. “Lieutenant Simone Fong. Army Rangers.”

An awkward silence stretched between them.

Then Simone jerked her thumb at Meg. “The first fucking thing anyone says to me in this place, and it’s 'Welcome to Earf'?” She looked stunned. “Welcome to Earf? You fucking taught the natives about Independence Day? The fuck is wrong with you?”

Liam sagged slightly.

“Hey,” Meg said, grinning. “I thought it sounded like a neat movie.”

***

The Morrigan’s Kiss limped into Babylon two days later, flanked by the surviving Babylonian ship – the crew freed from the hold, where they had been forced by the Hellenic marines. As the Kiss sailed forward, Simone looked at the city with wide, wide eyes. She was leaning on the railing of the ship – one of the intact parts, at least – and Liam stood beside her.

“So, uh...” He paused. “Here it is.”

“Here it is,” Simone said, slowly. “I guess you never heard of the Prime Directive?”

“It seemed like a bad idea,” Liam said, grinning slightly. He and Simone had had shockingly little time to actually talk. The Kiss had been damaged badly by the fighting and while having an entire crate full of supplies from the future was damn nice, having Kailey take all of it as ‘lawful prize’ was the last thing he wanted. Simone had been just as busy working on the pumps, fixing sail, and carrying around wood as Liam had been arguing Kailey down to just taking the MREs.

And now, they were almost out of time.

“So, let me get this fucking straight,” Simone said, ducking her head forward. “You, an American citizen, and a minor-”

“Hey, I was nineteen!” Liam said.

“If you’re not old enough to drink, you’re a minor in my book,” Simone said, turning around to lean against the railing. “And yet you took up service as a mercenary. Engaged in combat at least two dozen times, engaged in espionage for a foreign power, became a dictator, and led armies against enemies. You’ve married, had two kids. Oh, and you’ve detonated a weapon of mass destruction.” She glared at him. “Twice.” 

“Okay, um, they may have slightly oversold how powerful the Godkiller was,” Liam said, holding up his hands.

Simone rolled her head back, laughing. Then she started to pace. “Oh, no, Lieutenant, you’ll be put down in an isolated area, no chance of there being more than predators. We sent probes. No, Lieutenant, it shouldn’t be more than a fifteen mile divergence between arrivals. Oh no, Lieutenant, their technology can’t be more advanced than bronze-aged based on observations! No, Lieutenant, it’s highly unlikely that Vanderbilt will be difficult to rescue once you find him. A simple mission, despite the exotic locale. It’ll be a snap!”

Liam watched her walk back and forth.

“If it helps, I’ve brought them the technology of pizza,” he said, grinning.

Simone shook her head. “Fantastic.”

Liam sighed. “I’m not going to jail if I head home, will I?”

“If we were doing this by the book?” Simone asked. “Fucking yes!”

“Are we?” Liam asked, grinning hopefully.

The boat nosed into the dock. The Cross Guard were there – an honor guard for Tethis, Fizit, Brax, Marion. Cheering crowds, all of them eager to see their Lord’s return. As the gangplank was lowered, Meg walked up to the pair of them. She grinned and slapped Simone on the back.

“What’s up?” she asked, looking from Simone to Liam. Simone sighed.

“What’d she say?” she asked.

“What’s up,” Liam said.

“That’s what I said,” Meg said, grinning.

“That’s what I said,” Liam said, his voice dry.

“Oh, you’re translating,” Meg said, then winked. “Don’t translate this, but I think I saw Quinn absconding with one of those thingies. You know, the one that makes the red dot?”

Liam rubbed his temple, then looked at Simone – who, to her credit – was looking wryly amused.

“To answer your question,” she said. “No. I think the book went out the window with the rest of my team. We need to figure out where the rest of said team – especially the civilians – went. We need to find the rest of the supplies and we have to hope that the communication rig didn’t get smashed. Fortunately, there were several dozen com-rigs sent through, so our chances are good, but...”

“Com-rig?” Liam asked as he started for the gangplank. As he walked, Meg licked her thumb, then slapped her thumb against Simone’s forehead. A crackling light flashed and Simone staggered backwards, blinking.

“Wh...what?” she asked.

“Translation spell,” Meg said, cheerfully.

“I...” Simone blinked. “I can understand you.”

“And, I note, you didn’t need to fuck her,” Liam said, his voice dry. He had long known that the first time he and Meg had made love, literally minutes after meeting one another, hadn’t actually been required for the translation spell. But he still liked teasing her when he got the chance.

“I stand by my actions!” Meg said, her wings mantling.

Simone shook her head. “I feel like I’m going to get really good at filing things under ‘ask later’ on this place.”

“Yup,” Liam said, nodding. “So. Com-Rig?”

“Right,” Simone said, shaking her head. “Our objective was to get you home, Vanderbilt. And even though it just got a fuck of a lot more complicated, it’s my job.”

Liam gulped.

The three of them walked to the gangplank. Brax was restrained by his mother, but Liam could see that Fizit looked as if she was five seconds away from charging him too. Liam decided to ruin that by running down the planks. He had had time to cling to Meg and cover her kisses, in the few snatched moments between keeping the Kiss from sinking. But Fizit? He had wondered if he’d ever see her again sometimes.

And so, he grabbed Fizit and picked her up, twirling her around. She squeaked, and started to say: “This is undignified, you’re the Free Lord, your wife is-” And then he kissed her, shutting her up.

“Uh...” Simone could be clearly heard from the top of the gangplank.

“Wow, Liam was right; everyone on Earth is a total prude,” Meg said, sounding amused. “I thought Atlantites might be different.”

Liam, who had been marveling at the way that Fizit’s tongue swirled around and around his, the way her soft breasts mashed against his chest, broke the kiss long enough to pick up Brax and swing her around. His son laughed, kicking and spreading his arms. Then, suddenly looking concerned, Brax squeaked: “You won’t kiss me too, will you?”

Liam kissed his scaled cheek with a wet smack.

“Eaugh!” Brax writhed, disgusted by a display of affection in the way only a boy of his age could be.

“What did you call me?” Simone asked, walking down the gangplank.

“Atlantites?” Meg said, looking confused. “What? It’s really obvious, whoever did the spell was, um, no offense, kind of shit.”

But now, it was time for Fizit and Tethis to get an eyeful of not just Simone, but also Quinn and Kailey. The two goblinesses were dressed in their finest clothes and were walking down the gangplank, flanked by the two burliest members of their surviving crew. Kailey looked feral and fierce in her leather armor and sheer kilt, while Quinn had fished out a robe that was nearly a match for Tethis’ most formal wear.

“Quinn?” Tethis asked.

“Tethy?!” Quinn squeaked.

“You know each other?” Liam asked.

“N-Not quite,” Tethis stammered.

“You were lovers with that Tethis?” Kailey asked, sounding shocked.

“I wasn’t sure if they were the same...” Quinn admitted. “There are more than one gobliness named Tethis who were great healers.”

“Oh my gods!” Meg squealed. “You never mentioned her.”

“I can’t imagine why,” Liam muttered.

Quinn bristled. Tethis flushed.

Fizit, meanwhile, rolled her eyes. “Mammals.”

“How... She...” Simone spluttered. “She has breasts!” She sounded anguished as she gestured at Fizit’s impressive chest.

Liam shook his head. “Let's, ah, continue this discussion at the Palace. In private.” He glared at several men and women who he recognized as journalists. The printing press and Babylon’s adoption of a free press – the first, and to date, only one on Purgatory – had given a load of people jobs that they had never known they desperately wanted.

“Let's,” Fizit said, glaring at the journalists.

“Honey,” Liam muttered. “You can’t throw them in jail.”

“I can imagine it...” Fizit shot back.

Brax giggled.

And behind them all, almost forgotten by the crowds, was Dia. Hidden under her robes. Meekly, she followed.

***

The banquet hall of Liam’s Palace had more than enough room for all of them – and the kitchen staff seemed to be just as overjoyed to get Liam back as his family, considering the effort they put into the food. Liam was digging into some steak while Simone was polishing off three pieces of pizza. If she minded the strange color of the ingredients, or the fact that the slices were cut into perfect squares, then she didn’t show it.

Fizit, though, was listening to Kailey, who was wiping her mouth clean as she finished off her telling of the combat. Being both a seasoned captain and the only one with a spectral raven flying overhead and providing a literal birds eye view of everything had given her the best grasp of what had happened.

Fizit absorbed the last of the words, her knuckles pressed underneath her muzzle as she leaned on her elbows. She had sent Brax to his tutors – and Liam had put his foot down when Brax had whined about not getting to spend time with his Dad. This wasn’t a discussion he wanted Brax to hear.

“So, every report I have on the Paladins is true,” Fizit said. “And the null-collars are real.” She looked at Dia. “I’m sorry, Anubis.”

Dia, who had cast off her robe, but remained as withdrawn and quiet as she had been outside, shook her head. “Don’t call me that. My name is Diayet. I was a priestess of Anubis – who was as silent and distant as the stars in my day. I prayed for guidance, and sometimes felt him guiding me, but now...” She looked at her hands. “I doubt myself.”

“You were never a god,” Liam said, trying to make his voice gentle. “Tethis, if what you said is true, gods... are humans. Or, well, any humanoid with... well, that.” He gestured to her and she quietly worked an illusion spell to project an image of Liv’s brain – expanded to reveal the growth in the center of her mind. It looked like a cone with nerves and veins reaching out to every other part of the brain to Liam.

“What is it?” Quinn whispered.

“It looks like a tumor,” Simone said.

“It’s not a tumor!” Tethis snarled. Liam bit down on his lip to not laugh, as he didn’t want piss her off. He figured she’d said it often enough, considering that level of venom.

“Okay. Come with me on this hypothesis,” Liam said, hopping to his feet. He walked around the illusion, pointing at it. He had been sitting, but the idea forming in his brain left him tingling with an urge to walk. He paced back and forth, his hands sliding along his sides, tucking into his armpits as he crossed his arms across his chest. “In the ancient past, some humans get a mutation that causes that brain bit to grow. It gives people godlike powers. Those people become worshiped as gods.” He paused. “Somehow, the Christian church comes about and builds... a thing that jams the New Gods here...” he shook his head. “Where the hell would they get that?”

“The Ancients.”

The voice was low and rough and came from the entrance to the place. Guards were stepping out from where they normally stood, but Liv was walking past them. Her hair had gone from blue to pure white. Her eyes glowed with pale light. And she seemed to radiate energy. It roiled along her skin and crackled between her fingers. She staggered forward, dressed in only a white cotton shift. Simone stood, drawing a pistol and aiming it at her.

“Who is that!?” she shouted.

Liam sprang up and got between the two of them. “Liv!” he said. “A friend! Kinda.”

“Kinda?” Simone asked.

Liv cricked her neck. “The Ancients came to Earth and saw the gods. They wanted to figure them out.” She walked past Liam, grabbed the pistol from Simone with a motion so fast that it couldn’t be seen. She looked at it, then tossed it aside. It skittered along the ground, clattering and clinking as she walked past a stunned Simone to sit down at the table. She picked up Tethis plate and started to cram food into her mouth. She chewed, and spoke between swallows.

“They made Purgatory to be their laboratory. But the Gods broke out, overthrew ‘em, and took over.” She licked her fingers. “Everything became legends and myth.”

“H-How do you know that?” Tethis asked.

Liv licked her thumb, then looked at Tethis. “Cause I asked?”

“Asked who?” Liam asked, walking over quickly to sit beside Liv. She looked at him. Her glowing eyes narrowed, then she grinned.

“You’re not gonna like the answer,” she said.

“I’ll deal,” Liam said.

Simone picked up the pistol. Checked it. Glared at Liv.

Liv grinned. “Sysminor’s little brother. System Administrator Two.”

Stunned silence remained.

“Sysminor is short for System Administrator Four,” Liv said, sighing as she leaned slowly back into her seat. “He was the insane one. System Administrator Two, though, told me the basics. I...” She paused. “I didn’t follow all of it.”

“How?” Tethis asked.

“How can you or a lizard or an elf cast magic?” Liv asked. She looked around. “Come on, it’s fucking obvious.”

“You are an Ancient,” Liam whispered. “Goblins. Lizardmen. They’re all Ancients.”

“My mother was part of the Stakosha caste,” Liv said, her voice bitter. “Before Ares raped and murdered her. According to what Two told me, the Stakosha rule and are immortal. They designed the Potkoss – the goblins – and the Huulor – the lizards – for specific roles and only breed em when they’re needed.”

“Designed,” Fizit said, slowly.

Liam looked at her.

Liv was still Liv, and she proved it, by being utterly unaware of the gathering storm. “Yeah, apparently.”

“Designed...” Fizit grabbed up her plate and dashed it on the table before Liv. The shattering sound and the spreading food caused Liv to jerk backwards and Simon to tense. Tethis squeaked and even Kailey – who had been watching everything with a kind of avid but detached interest, like a woman at a wrestling match that had just gotten interesting – jerked back. Meg grabbed Liam before he could spring forward and get between the two women.

Fizit slapped her palm against her chest, her tail lashing hard enough to send her chair skittering away.

“I’m twenty six!” she snarled. “I’m middle aged. I’m going to die of old age in two decades if I’m fucking lucky, you elven bitch. And you tell me that your people built me that way?” She stepped forward. “Built us big and dumb and short lived, but strong and fucking tireless! So we can haul your water and built your godsdamned laboratories?”

“Fizit!” Tethis sprang to her feet. “Calm down.”

Liv shrugged. “I didn’t do it.”

“I won’t live to see my son’s old age, you bitch!” Fizit leaped at Liv with a snarl.

Liv waved her hand and Liam tore from Meg’s grip. Everything went horribly slow – a disaster he couldn’t stop, but he had plenty of time to admire it. A ripple of air shot from Liv’s palm, rushing towards Fizit. It slammed into Fizit’s chest and she went rocketing backwards as if she had been smacked by a giant’s baseball bat. The stricken expression on Liv’s face – the horror at what she hadn’t meant to do – was no consolation.

Fizit smashed into the wall with an explosion of dust and a crack. She sprawled on the ground, her head twisted almost entirely around, her neck snapped. Her mouth opened, then relaxed as her eyes stared outwards, sightless.

Simone reacted by aiming her pistol at Liv. “Hands up!” she shouted.

Liam felt as if he had been frozen – he couldn’t even feel anything. Liv was stammering – it sounded like she was trying to say ‘I’m sorry!’ Meg was charging towards Liv. Kailey and Quinn had gotten to their feet, adding their voices to the din. Simone was still bellowing the words at the stunned Liv. Dia looked as if she wanted to curl up on herself and vanish.

But before anyone could make another move, Tethis screamed: “Everyone! Shut the fuck up!”

Everyone shut up.

Tethis lowered her hands. “L-Let's all use our heads instead of our... other parts.” She shook her head. “I put the stasis spell on Fizit. By the gods, she was as big a target for assassination as Liam!”

Liam didn’t realize he had been about to collapse to the ground until he was already sprawling. Tethis leaned down, her eyes hooded as she started to make the passes of the healing magic. Her voice shook as she snarled out the words. Healing magic surged into Fizit’s body – her head slowly spinning back into place. As she jerked and gasped, Tethis glared up at them.

“But you...” She pointed her finger at Liv. “You’re very lucky. Even my spell can’t fix a destroyed brain. If you had pulped her head, or smashed her head against the wall, or, or...”

Fizit sat up, groaning. “What happened?”

Tethis burst into tears and threw her arms around her, hugging her as tightly as she could.

Simone slowly holstered her pistol.

“And I thought my family reunions were fucked up,” she whispered.

Nine

Liam felt as if he had been wrung out and left to dry. He walked Simone to her room. Simone sighed.

“I didn’t follow all of that,” she said. “But I got the gist. This Ares motherfucker is making a power grab. And if the teleportation dispersion is as bad as it looks like...” She bit her lip. “He might have just had a bunch of M-16s dropped into his lap, with thousands of rounds. Underslung grenade launchers. C4s. Fuck, we brought drones.”

Liam nodded. “This war just went from hot to fusion, didn’t it?”

Simone nodded. Then, smiling. “I said I’d get you home. If getting you home means going through Ares, well...” She held out her hand. “I’m in.”

Liam smiled and took her hand. He pumped it.

“This is your room. Servants can bring you whatever you want,” he said.

“Thanks.”

Simone stepped into the room, the closed the door. Liam smiled, then walked along the corridor. He came to Fizit’s office. She was working on her paperwork. As if she hadn’t almost died earlier today. As if nothing had gone wrong. As if she hadn’t realized that her short life had been built intentionally into her by people who could have made her immortal.

They just hadn’t.

Liam walked into the room. His hand went to her shoulder, squeezing. Fizit sighed.

“I’m reading reports – trying to track how many Paladinnnnnrrrr!” She groaned, her eyes closing. Liam wordlessly slipped his hand from her shoulder to the hem of her shift to cup and squeeze her full breast. Her nipple hardened, coming to attention as dutifully as a soldier. His finger found and teased her. He felt a lust more intense than any he had felt in a long time rush through his body. His cock tented his kilt as his other hand went around to grope her other tit. Fizit crooned. “Nooo, Liam, I’m working...”

But despite her words, her arms lifted, giving him better access. Her breath was coming in soft, eager pants, her eyes closing as her head rolled back. Her tail, long and flexible, crooked upwards and slithered along the bulge of his kilt, from tip to thick base. Liam shuddered and slid his hands from her breasts to her hips. He dragged her upwards and pushed her forward. Fizit moved with the same level eagerness, her tail lifting as she pressed her chest against her desk, knocking papers aside with a rasp and clatter.

“Lifts-Her-Tail,” Liam whispered.

“Hmrrr?” Fizit asked.

“A really stupid joke,” Liam said, his hand going to his kilt. His fingers undid the catch and his kilt slipped down. His cock sprang entirely free and Fizit’s tail-tip pressed against the thickness of the base. It coiled around and around, until Fizit was essentially gripping him, as firmly as she would with her palm. Liam slid his hands along her hips, to her delicious rump. He felt her silky smooth scales underneath his palms and shuddered with delight. His thumbs reached down and spread the puffy, wet lips of her cunt.

She was so eager.

And under the scales…

Her pussy looked very human.

Very inviting.

And then Fizit tugged with her tail, jerking Liam forward, then grinding his cocktip against her.

Fizit’s tail made it clear.

No foreplay.

Then her voice demolished all doubt. “Make love to me, my Lord. Make love to me, my Liam.”

Liam leaned over her. His hands slid from her hips to her shoulders, keeping her shift on. He grinned as his naked chest pressed to her back, feeling the bump of her tail against his belly. He breathed into her ear-hole, his voice a soft purr.

“Fizit...” He kissed her neck, then kissed the base of several of her feathers. It had been a delight, the first time he had realized that teasing where her feathers merged with her scaled head would bring out that croon. That eager, wanting, desperate sound. Her tail writhed against his chest, the tip tightening around his cock, enough to actually make him wince slightly. Liam took that as a sign and thrust into her. His hips drove forward and her tail unwound from his dick until his balls pressed to her softly scaled thighs and his cock filled her to the brim. She hissed through her tongue and closed her eyes as tightly as she could, her claws digging into the desk.

“Holy shit,” she gasped.

“Mmm,” Liam started to lazily fuck her. It wasn’t a frantic thing. No, he took his time, moving his hips in smooth, rocking motions that seemed to unwind the tension he had felt in her back. Her spine loosened and her shoulders went slack as she let her whole body melt into the desk.

“Ah yes,” Fizit crooned. “I needed this. I need this. Mmrr.” Her tail tickled the underside of Liam’s chin, writhing between his chest and her back. Liam shifted, so that he was standing behind her, letting her tail twitch freely as he leaned his head into that tailtip. He kissed and nibbled her, and Fizit giggled and squirmed.

Then Fizit hissed. “I want to watch you cum, Liam.”

Liam nodded. He slid from her and took a moment to admire how soaked his cock was. It dripped with her slick, glittering juices and then he had something far finer to admire. Fizit’s curvaceous, muscular body rolling over. She pulled herself up with her arms and naught else, lifting and spreading her legs so wide that her knees squished her breasts slightly. Her toes pressed where her claws had been digging before. Liam shivered, then whispered.

“You are one fine MILF, Fizit.”

She chuckled throatily. “You say this about once a month, Vanderbilt. Now prove it.” Her eyes glittered and she stretched herself infinitesimally further. Liam grabbed onto his cock, then slapped the tip against Fizit’s cunt. Sliding into her again was just as pleasant as the first time, just as pleasant as the very first time. He hilted himself inside of her and Fizit rolled her head back almost off the side of the desk. Papers crinkled under her as she gasped and rocked her hips in perfect time with Liam’s slow, casual fucking. Her breasts jiggled and bounced with every slap of his balls, while Liam took a moment to admire the tautness of her abdominal muscles.

Then he noticed that, even with her head rolled back, even with her eyes closed to thin slits, she was still watching his face intently.

And so…

Liam let himself show what he felt as he fucked her. He felt the same intense relief he felt when Meg had swooped down from the heavens by being inside of Fizit. Here, in her office, with her body writhing in pleasure atop the paperwork she used to try and keep him and her family and friends and her people safe, it felt as if everything was right with the world again. Fizit gasped and her sex clenched on him, her back arching slightly, the pleasure in her breathing all the encouragement that Liam needed.

He let himself go, his own eyes closeing to slits, shuddering as he clenched his jaw. His balls clenched and he felt his cum surge and then spill into her. Fizit breathed out a single word: “Liam...”

Her tail coiled around and around his thigh, gripping him like a whip.

The faint drip of his cum sliding from her sex became the only noise in the room for a few moments. Liam leaned forward, sliding his hands onto her shoulders, rooting her as he kissed her deeply. Then Fizit put her palms against his chest, caressing him. Her fingers traced the lines of his muscles, then gently touched scars. Counting them. When the kiss broke, she mumbled softly. “I’m sorry...”

“What?” Liam blinked. He was ready to tell her that she had nothing to apologize for. That she had done everything she could. That…

“But you need to get off me,” Fizit said, grinning. “I have a lot of paperwork.”

“Oh! I see how it is!” Liam said, in faux offense, sliding out of her with a quiet grunt. Cum dripped from her sex – but only for a moment. Her tail coiled up, the tip slapping the skin between her breasts as the bulk of her tail cupped her own sex. Keeping the cum inside of her as she sat up. Liam put his hands on his hips. “Wham! Bam! Thank you, sir!”

Fizit pointed at the door, managing a perfect deadpan. “Out.”

Liam slipped his kilt on, caught Fizit for one more kiss, one more grope, then one firm slap across her butt cheeks. She squeaked and slashed at him with her claws – playfully missing him by only a hair. Liam scooted out, then laughed to himself as he walked, languidly along the corridors of his home. He was heading for his bedroom when he walked past one of the studies and noticed a familiar, hunched figure, poring over manuscripts and papyrus scrolls. From the number of books surrounding the table – not to mention the two burned out mage lights – he guessed that Tethis had been there since right after the meeting.

Hours, in another word.

Liam walked up behind Tethis, moving softly. It felt almost like a dream, to have his favorite gobliness in the palace again. She had been distant, and he knew why... but he didn’t know why she had come back. He coughed, not wanting to just assume he could fondle her.

She may be back, but he didn’t know if the old, comfortable days had come with her.

Tethis leaped almost out of the stool, knocking the mage lamp over. She scrambled to catch it – and through the shadows cast by her fingers, clutching the shimmering orb, Liam could see that she was looking chagrined.

“Hey,” she said.

Liam grabbed a stool, yanked it over, and sat. This meant that he still loomed over her, but at least he didn’t tower.

“Tethis,” he said, smiling at her.

She set the mage light back down. “I see you’ve had some fun.”

Liam’s face flushed and he coughed. “R-Right.”

Tethis smiled shyly. Her ears perked up as she looked at the manuscript she had been studying. The drawings were the kind of crude ancient Egyptian style that he was used to seeing in Coptic buildings – but it showed elves and humans meeting for the first time, swords drawn, beams of light firing from the heavens. Tethis sighed slightly.

“I’m not jealous.” She paused. “Okay, I’m lying, I’m jealous as hell. But-” she cut him off before he could even open his mouth. “We all have work to do, if we’re going to fight Ares and understand what is going on with...Liv.”

Liam put his hand on her shoulder. She tensed.

“Tethis,” he said. “I know you had an issue with Fizit and Liv.”

“Fizit and I, ah, what was that phrase you used?” Tethis smiled, shyly. “Buried the hacker?”

Liam chuckled.

“But it’s weird...” Tethis looked down at her hands. “I hated her because I was scared. Every time I looked at her, I remembered being attacked. I remembered hanging, between life and death...” She shook her head. “But then I saw your son, and saw how much she loved him. And it was like I couldn’t be afraid of her anymore. And if I wasn’t scared of her, I had to look at things rationally. But part of me is so mad at me for not being mad at her. She did try to kill me. Does that make any sense?”

Liam swept Tethis into his arms. He drew her onto his lap, holding her along her belly and across her chest. His head pressed to her hair. He breathed in the soft smell of her – ink and fresh soap and her own natural spice. She squirmed slightly, as if she thought she could complain but couldn’t find any actual words. So, instead, she started to kiss the line of his biceps.

“It does,” he said. “You put a lot of energy into being mad. And if there’s one thing humans, valks, lilin, goblins, elves, and lizardfolk all have in common? It’s that we’re hardwired to hate wasting energy on stuff.”

Tethis snorted.

“I’m not kidding!” Liam said. “Why do you think people love to lounge around when they don’t have to work? It’s their brains telling them to not waste energy.”

Tethis leaned forward. Another feathery kiss against the bulge of Liam’s bicep. Then she licked him. A slow, stately lick, her eyes half closed as she leaned into his arm, sagging slightly.

“I’m glad you’re back,” she whispered.

“I’m glad you’re back.” Liam kissed the tip of one of her ears. Like elves, goblin ears were long and pointed. Also, like elves, their ears were as sensitive and as erogenous as the tips of their nipples, or the nape of their necks. Tethis turned to so much butter in his hands. Liam cupped her full breasts – if she had been the same height as Fizit, she’d have given her a run for her money. His fingers squeezed and felt her nipples pucker and harden against her shift, peeking through. Tethis whimpered.

“I’ve gone a year without...” she breathed.

“Without sex?” Liam asked.

“Without you,” she said. Then, adding. “A-And sex. Not all of us sleep with everything they see.”

“Not everything I see...” Liam took hold of her shift. “Just the incredibly hot women.”

“You say Bast, I say Bastet,” Tethis shot back. Then her shift hit the ground beside her and she sat, gloriously nude on his lap. Her breasts heaved as she panted heavily, her head rolling back as Liam leaned over her shoulder. He had to bend almost in half to get his mouth against her lips. But where their lips met and he kissed her, lightning crackled. Tethis rocked her hips against him, her thighs spread wide. Her bare, hairless, green pussy was so inviting that Liam felt himself rising to her need.

He grabbed her hips, shifted himself, then slid one hand down to yank his kilt up just enough to slap his cock against her slit. Tethis didn’t give him time to wait. She drove herself down onto his cock, breaking the kiss to moan loudly, wordlessly. Her hands reached forward and she braced herself on the desk as she started to lift and drop her hips. Contained in the circle of his arms, Tethis small, curvy body jiggled with every impact of hip to hip. She ducked her head forward, her ear tips thrusting invitingly into the air. Liam leaned over.

Put his palms over her smaller hands. Then started to thrust up into her, using the desk to root her in place as his cock filled her shockingly tight pussy. She was so small, but so very fucking flexible. His mouth closed around one eartip as Tethis whimpered and gasped.

“Gods yes!”

Where Liam had been slow, almost gentle, with Fizit...he felt Tethis desperate need. And so he squeezed her hands and fucked her like she was a bitch in heat. From the moans that escaped her mouth, that was exactly what she needed, and he felt her pussy clenching on him in orgasm within a few moments. Her head rolled to the side, pushing her ear against his lips. His tongue feathered along her ear, tracing the gentle lines that came to the pointed tip, which he teased gently between his teeth, adding slightly more pleasure with every soft, whimpered: “More. More. Moooooore!”

And her second climax rocked through her.

If Liam hadn’t spent his balls in Fizit a mere few minutes before, he might have had a hard time not filling Tethis with his cum at that. But he closed his eyes and focused only on the movement of hip and leg and knee and body. His muscles burned with the pleasant warmth of a gentle workout, and his cock twitched in time with her heart beat. He could feel it, twitching through her as she lolled, almost limp in his arms.

Fucked senseless.

But she still managed to gasp out, between mewls and whimpers and the meaty slap of balls against thighs, one last request. “Cum – ah -  on – godsyes – my – nnnnhh! - face.”

Liam stood. His cock was still buried inside of her, and his hands slipped to her hips, holding her up. She squealed as her breasts were pressed to the desk, her whole body now slanted. Liam pulled her up, then off him – and she gasped as he set her down on the stool he had been sitting in. Liam recognized the blissed out, slack expression of her being truly in orgasmic paradise. There was a part of Tethis’ brain that adored being carried and toted around. 

An advantage of being small.

Liam grabbed his slick cock.

Pumped once.

And fountained. Cum sprayed from his cock tip in thick streams, spurting outwards and splashing against Tethis’ cheek. Her left eye closed instinctively before a spurt of cum splashed her forehead. Another streaked across the bridge of her nose. But the next two landed in her mouth as she opened it wide, her tongue thrusting out. Liam jerked his hips forward, pressing the fat tip of his cock against her tongue. He emptied his balls into her mouth and shuddered as he felt his knees turn to water. He dropped into the seat she had been in and let himself go utterly slack.

Tethis sat there, cum dripping onto her full, sweat-slicked breasts.

She opened her mouth and thrust out her tongue, showing Liam the utter mess he had made. In that moment, she looked an entire world apart from the dignified, shy, demure scholar he was used too, the archeologist he had met so long ago. She looked like a well fucked whore.

And she loved it.

Her eyes closed and she drew her tongue back into her mouth.

Her throat worked as she swallowed.

And then she opened her mouth again, showing off the emptiness within. As if to say: Look! All clean.

“Jesus Christ...” Liam whispered. And, shocking even himself, he found that he was hard again. Well. Half hard. His cock was trying, desperately, to live up to the display of utter wantonness before him. Tethis reached up, scooping some cum off her face and licking it off her thumb with a quiet muah. Once she popped her thumb from her mouth, she grinned.

“Want some extra energy?”

“What for?” Liam asked, laughing. “Do you want round two?”

Tethis smirked. “As if this is the last room you’re stopping at tonight...”

Liam blinked.

Then nodded.

“Hit me.”

***

Liam walked past his room – the door was closed, and no light shone from within. He wanted to go. He wanted to slide into bed and hold Meg to him. But there was something else he needed to do first.

He walked silently up to Liv’s quarters. Two guards stood beside it, muskets out and armor on. They looked like they had been pulled from the battle ready sections of the Cross Guard. Liam nodded to them and they stepped aside – though both looked as if they had serious misgivings. When he tried the door, he found it opened, not into darkness, but into a pale light. There was no sign of any mage light or torch or candle.

Liv was still radiating like she was a nuclear reactor.

For just a second, Liam worried just getting near her was dangerous.

But what Liv was doing made him step forward and close the door.

Liv was curled up on herself. Her white hair had grown out during her coma, and it spread around her head. But it couldn’t hide the sound of her wracking sobs. Her shoulders shook as she clutched her shins, her face mashed against her knees. Liam put his hand on her shoulder and felt the surge of energy rush through him. It was similar to touching a god while they were showing off their power. Liv slapped at his wrist.

“Go away,” she blubbered.

It was such an un-Liv sound that Liam felt his guts knot.

“No,” he said, sitting beside her. “Liv, I-”

“I said go away!” Liv hissed, jerking her head up. Her eyes still glowed – but tracks of blotchy red ran down her cheeks. “I kill everyone, Liam. Everyone.” She turned her head back, pressing her face against her knees again. Liam shook his head. This time, he did not just put his hand on her shoulder. He slid his arms around her and pulled her onto his lap, just as he had with Tethis. She buzzed with energy but despite the strength radiating from her, despite the hard muscles underneath her skin, Liv melted against him. She threw her arms around his shoulder, mashed her face against his chest, and sobbed.

And sobbed.

And sobbed.

And Liam held her and searched desperately for something to say. But an instinct, deep in his belly, said that saying anything wouldn’t work. The grief was too deep, too long repressed. Too bitter. And so, he simply held her and let Liv sob her eyes out against him. Her voice became hoarse and she sprawled against him, limp as a noodle. He kissed her white hair. She sniffled a few times.

“I like your hair,” Liam whispered.

Liv snorted, a messy, snotty noise. “Fucking idiot.”

She drew back, looking up at him. Her eyes slowly stopped glowing – and he could see they were the same hue as they had always been. Her glow faded and soon, they were in the darkness of the room. Utter blackness – at first. But as their eyes adjusted, Liam saw that a sliver of moonlight shone through the open window, painting everything in shadows and dark outlines.

“I miss him so much,” Liv whispered.

“I know,” Liam said, caressing her cheeks.

“B-But...” Liv leaned into his caress. Her face pressed to his palms. “Fizit’s right. He’d have been dead in a blink. I’d have lived my life and he’d be gone in, what? Thirty years?” She shook herself. “And I’d still be here. Forever.” Her eyes closed and her voice dropping to a pained hiss. “What am I, Liam? What am I? My people made slaves and designed them to fall apart, while hoarding immortality. My father raped my mother. What does that make me? A bitch from a house of bitches. A murdering monster, a-”

“Liv,” Liam stopped her, his thumbs caressing her cheeks. “Liv, Liv, Liv.”

Liv shook her head, pushing his hands away. “Go away, Liam. I don’t even deserve to be your slave, let alone-”

Liam leaned forward. His mouth found hers in the darkness. He kissed her. It was not a lustful kiss. It wasn’t even exactly romantic. But it was the fastest, clearest way he could think to show her that there was more to Liv than muscle and murder and hate. All those other parts of her uncoiled in his mind. Her snide sense of humor. Her cynicism. Her ability to change. He remembered a time where she would have accepted everything she had found without blinking. Without thinking. Without a single solitary question, even one as simple as: Do I deserve this?

He drew back. Her mouth was slightly open in the darkness, glinting with the wetness of contact. Her eyes glittered with tears.

“Why?” she rasped. “I’m not worth it.”

“You don’t get to decide that now,” Liam said, taking her hands, squeezing. “Not when you have forever to decide which way. You have eternity, Liv, to be worth it. To be someone worth kissing. Loving.”

Liv looked into his eyes. “Liam...”

She leaned forward.

This kiss wasn’t simply hot. It was like a furnace. Her mouth mashed against his and her teeth almost cut his lips as her hands grabbed the back of his head. Her fingers worked through his hair as her tongue swept into his mouth. She molded her body against him, her breasts tiny accents to her sleek chest. Her nipples were hard, insistent points that ground against his. Liam kissed her back, letting himself lose himself in her contact. Liv had been so many things to him over the years.

Enemy.

Slave.

Friend.

Mystery.

Partner.

But right now, the only thing that was left was the need of touch. The urge for two souls to feel something other than fear. Liam broke the kiss, panting. Liv rolled onto her back – her lips had tasted of salt tears. She wiped at her face with one arm – but Liam wasn’t leaning down to kiss her lips again. No. He slid from the bed, his knees pressing onto the carpet that spread across the floor. His hands cupped her thighs in the near pitch blackness, finding their way with touch rather than sight.

Liv made a quiet, confused noise.

But then Liam found the lips he desperately wanted to kiss.

His mouth pressed to her sex and his tongue plunged into her. Liv’s back arched and she gasped. “Yesss!” she hissed. “Oh... oh...” She writhed, one leg kicking spasmodically as Liam’s nose ground against the hard nub of her clit. His tongue coiled up, pressing to her G-spot. He had found it before. But it felt like several lifetimes had passed since he had tasted her.

Had she always tasted like the finest wine?

Had her pussy always been so silky smooth?

Had the soft sounds of her pleasure always been so beautiful?

Liam drew his tongue back, panting. He could feel his mouth dripping with her arousal as his tongue circled her clit again and again. Then he leaned forward and captured the pearly nub, sucking on her gently, then slightly more forcefully as Liv urged him on by clutching her muscular thighs around his head, drawing him closer. Her fingers worked into his hair, fingernails pressing wantonly to his scalp.

“Brax!” she wailed.

Liam closed his eyes…

And didn’t feel anything but wry amusement. He drew his mouth back, looking up through the darkness at Liv. Her eyes were wide as she looked at him.

Liam fought to keep his face even.

Liv whispered. “Oh god, Liam, I am- am...” She paused, watching as his lips quivered. Then as he started to laugh, Liv chuckled, then laughed as well. Her shoulders shook as she sat up, her hands sliding along the bed under her. She laughed and laughed – and moaned as Liam ducked his head back down and went back to sucking on her clitty.

After a short time, though, Liv was hissing. “N-No more! No more, I... ah!” She gasped as Liam licked her once more. “I... I need you. I need you in me, Liam. Please. God. Please. Please.” She whispered. But Liam was already crawling over her. His cock traced a line of heat along her thigh as he leaned down in the darkness, whispering in her ear.

“As gratifying as it is, Livianna of Sparta, you don’t need to beg.”

“Of Babylon,” she whispered, turning her head to look him square in the eyes. Her eyes glittered in the darkness of the room – with tears and with determination. “Livianna of Babylon.”

Her left leg lifted up. She turned and cocked her knee, so that her toes traced along his back. A big toe, drawing a circle along his spine, like a palm. Had she always been so flexible? Liam smiled down at her. Then he reached between them – guiding his cock into her. She was tight as a virgin – and as sensitive as one, considering the fact she sank her teeth into his shoulder as viciously hard as any girl that Liam had slid into. He yelped – and Liv squirmed under him.

“F-Forgot how... hung you are,” she whispered.

“Ow,” Liam whispered back.

Liv chuckled, then kissed the bite mark as Liam started to thrust into her. Like with Fizit – an odd mirror, he thought incoherently, lost in the pleasure of her silk smooth pussy – he moved gently. Slowly. His balls didn’t pound her ass like a drum. Rather, his body and hers were like two musicians, and their song was growing more and more in time with every movement. Her thighs closed vice-like around his hips, her feet hooking over one another. Her hands caressed his head as she gasped and looked into his eyes.

“Yes! Yes! Yes!” Liv started to gasp. Her eyes flashed.

Glowed.

And, in a single moment of nearly blinding light, she flared like a nova. Energies surged along Liam’s body and he felt her pleasure. Not in the tightness of her sex, but as if he had a pussy. He felt the delight she took in his muscular frame, in the way that he was gentle – like Brax. He felt the odd fixation with the firmness and size of his balls. He felt the orgasm that came not from a single place, but rather, washed through her whole body. He felt the tingling excitement of nipples grinding against nipples – similar to his own sensations... but much more intense.

More shocking.

And then his own climax shot through him. And Liam gaped as he felt his pleasure reflected backwards at him. It was like feeling it a second time, delayed only by a few moments. It bounced into him, even as her pleasure reflected from him. The pleasure cascaded back and forth, back and forth, until the two of them were lost in a blaze as bright as a star.

Then it cut out – the two of them splayed on the bed.

Liam felt utterly spent. His balls actually ached from the amount of cum that he had filled Liv with. She twitched under him, as if she was being sparked or bitten by insects. Her fingers caressed his head as she gasped heavily, her breasts rising and falling with every motion. Liam tried to move his arms but he couldn’t.

Holy shit, he heard a voice echoing in his head.

Liv’s voice.

“Liv?” Liam mumbled.

“What was that?” Liv whispered.

Liam slowly managed to wriggle himself to the side. He flopped onto his back, panting heavily. He sprawled next to Liv.

“I think you...” Liam spoke between gasps. “Have managed. Ah. To. Ah. Do... what was forced on Ares and Dia. Via. Ah. Sheer. Ah. Willpower.” He rolled his head to look at her. “Ares and Dia. Both of them said that they started off as, mm, normal people. Right?”

Liv nodded.

“But then they started doing amazing things. And people started to treat them like gods. They started to get worshiped. And those stories changed them. Ares got dumber. Became Zeus’ son, despite having never met the guy before and having actual human parents. Dia became a fucking jackal dude.” He closed his eyes. “You broke away from the story of Livianna of Sparta by just... hating your Dad enough.”

“It wasn’t even hating him,” Liv mumbled. “It was just not focusing on him.”

“Hmm?” Liam furrowed his brow.

“I wasn’t thinking of him cause, um, when I did, I’d get...scared.” Liv gulped. “So, I stopped. I just thought of the cut. Of the sword. Of movement.”

Liam was silent for a time, considering.

“However you did it...” He started to sit up – but Liv grabbed him and yanked him back down next to her. Since she was the demigod, Liam remained right where he was. “However you did it, I think you’ve freed yourself. You don’t need to be what the stories say.” He paused. “And that includes powers. That’s how he reads minds! And teleports! Neither of those fucking fit the old purviews of a god of war, but he can just use his powers.”

Liv mumbled something under her breath. She was cuddling against him. Liam squirmed. “Sorry, Liv, I have a wife to sleep next to.”

The door opened.

Closed.

Liam blinked.

“Damn straight you do.”

Meg’s voice was husky. But there was a second form in the darkness. A tail twitched from side to side. Liam blinked – and then heard Mary’s husky voice.

“I’m away from town for one day, and all this happens?” she asked.

“Come on, Mary,” Meg said, cheerfully as Liv sleepily sat up and started to glow. Under her pale illumination, Liam could see Mary had dressed in her official uniform sans a few crucial parts. Acres of red flesh gleamed between black leather, which clung to full breasts and swept around swaying hips. Her wimple clung to her face, but her eyes were filled with pure sin. Meg, next to her, was in a kilt and shift, her wings fanning out, catching the light and reflecting it back at Liam.

Liam felt Tethis’ spell worming through him.

Getting him hard again.

The two women advanced.

“Liv, help,” Liam squeaked.

“Sure thing,” Liv purred.

She grabbed his wrists and pinned them behind his back.

Ten

Liam had been in some fairly intense situations in his life. But being held down by Liv while Mary and Meg prowled towards him was definitely took the cake. He had been laid more times today than he had once imagined he could get laid in his life, and yet his cock surged to full hardness as Mary took the front. Her red finger lazily drew a circle around his belly button, her thumb only having to extend slightly to touch the tip of his achingly hard cock. She flicked her thumb up and then lifted her hand daintily to her face as her whimple remained affixed to her face and hair, her robes flaring around her body in the darkness of the room.

Her tongue took a long, lewd time to slurp up the juices and cum that she had collected from his cocktip.

“Mmmh,” she sighed, quietly. “You got him nice and ready for us, didn’t you, Liv?”

The merest touch of her thumb had set Liam’s heart hammering. His nose flared and his head spun as he breathed in Mary’s pheromones. He knew that he had only gone without for about three weeks, but even that short lapse had weakened his resistance to them.

A lot.

Meg’s grin was just as wicked. She knelt down on the bed beside Liam, her hand caressing his chest. “So, you and Liv seem to be getting along well.” She nodded, then glanced at Liv. Her voice was slightly guarded.

Liv’s hands tightened on Liam’s wrists. He was about to speak up when Mary knelt down and nuzzled her nose against his balls. The edges of her outer veil brushed against his thighs and her soft, dark lips caught and sucked on his scrotum. Liam craned his head back to look up at Liv under her curtain of pale white hair, then hissed as Mary started to slowly kiss up his cock, her hand cupping his member against her face. Her nose flared as she breathed in the scent of his cock - the melange of his flavor and Liv’s. Looking past his own dick, he could see Mary’s eyes were unfocused and she was panting like a bitch in absolute heat. Liam shuddered and wondered if her being away from him had had the same impact as him being away from her.

If so, his cock was hitting her like a line of cocaine from the way she started to lap at him hungrily. He could hear a faint rustle of wings and a quiet sigh from Meg - she had dipped her hand between her thighs. One thumb ruffled her pubic feathers, while two fingers smoothly glided along her cunt-lips, then plunged up. She hissed and groaned. Then Liam grunted as Liv sat on his face with a hiss of pleasure. Her sex was still moist with his cum, and mixed between that salty flavor was her own intense arousal.

Meg snorted. “Gods above, Mary, were you stockpiling pheromones?”

Mary drew her nose and lips away from Liam’s cock, panting softly. “Sorry,” she said, not sounding sorry in the slightest. “It’s my time of the month.”

Liam had listened to all of this while tonguing hungrily at Liv’s sex. His tongue had slurped from the base of her sex to the very edge of her pert rump, his nose pressing against her ass. She smelled fresh and clean, and every time his tongue touched her clit, then licked upwards towards her taint, Liv made a quiet hiss noise, her fingernails pressing into the flesh of his belly. But hearing what Mary said made him almost jerk his head upwards.

Save that Liv’s thighs were strong and athletic enough to keep his face down against the bed.

“You have a time of the month?” Meg asked, laughing.

Mary leaned forward and closed her mouth around the thick head of Liam’s cock. She pushed forward and took three inches of hard cock into her mouth with a loud moan of ‘mmmhmm!’ That buzzing set off a rush of pleasure through Liam’s body, making him moan against Liv’s pussy as he kissed at her.

Liv hissed between clenched teeth. “Gods, your husband can eat pussy like... like, ah…” She shuddered and her voice dissolved into incoherence as Liam reached up to squeeze her ass with one hand, his other hand stroking Mary’s head as he rubbed his tongue in slow circles around Liv’s clit. Liv’s back arched and her juices flooded his mouth as she let out a sharp cry of pleasure.

Liv’s pussy moved away from Liam’s mouth and he had a few dazed moments to simply lay back and marvel in the pleasure of Mary’s mouth slipping further and further down his cock, her tongue sliding in slurping circles around his member as she bobbed her head forward, then backwards, forward then backwards. As her eagerness started to push her wimple and veil askew, Liam managed to get himself sitting up again. Meg pressed herself against his side - but just so that she could reach out and grab onto Liv. With a tug, she brought Liv against Liam’s other side.

The two women pressed against him, Meg’s larger breasts as comforting as the pillows of his bed, Liv’s smaller chest feeling silky and smooth. Liv nibbled on his ear lazily and Liam’s eyes went hooded as Mary started to hum quietly.

“Oh fuck!”

Liam knew he should have held back. He should have stopped himself from crying out. But as Meg had spoken, Mary’s tail had slipped slowly along her own sex, growing slicked with her juices as it went, until finally, the tip had pressed against his ass, worming against the sheets, then pushing slowly up into his anus. The movement had been gentle and slick enough that Liam had had no time to object. Then he had no reason too. His jaw clenched as he tried to keep from crying out as loudly again, but the feeling of that tail pressing against a place deep inside of his body, combined with the soft humming of her mouth…

It was too much.

Meg laughed, then leaned forward and kissed him, muffling his moans as Liam erupted into Mary’s mouth. Mary forced her lips forward just a bit more, her throat bobbing as she drank and drank...but as Liam felt his cum starting to taper off after the fierce heat of his first orgasm, Mary drew back. Her cheeks were distended with his cum and he watched open mouthed as she grabbed onto Liv’s hair and yanked her forward. Liv squeaked - then moaned as Mary’s lips and hers met. They kissed, and Liv accepted the cum she was being fed.

Meg smiled, watching the two.

“So,” she said. “I need to give Liv mommy lessons.”

“You…” Liam panted. “Is that a good idea?” He gasped in for some more air. “I mean, isn't it... dangerous?”

Liv shuddered as Mary’s tail slipped between their legs, coiling up to plunge into Liv’s eager cunt. She started to fuck Liv with her tail - and the motion ground Mary’s tail against the lilin’s desperate pussy. The two girls started to writhe in pleasure as they bucked and ground against one another. Liam let himself sprawl backwards into Meg’s lap, feeling her breasts cushion his head.

“Maybe, but I think it’ll be worth it,” Meg said. “Besides, we’ll need more moms.”

“Yeah, it takes a village, even with Tethis and you and the-”

“Because you’re going to knock me up tonight,” Meg said, her voice light. She spoke it as if it was a decided, done deal. But when Liam - electrified into motion by what she had said - sprang up and swung his head around to look at her, he could see her nerves. She bit her lower lip.

Liam took her hand, gently. “I…”

Meg’s voice was soft. “It’s not selfish, is it? I love Brax and Marion with all my heart. But…”

Liam cupped her cheek with his other hand. Mary and Liv both seemed to drift away in the background. Slowly, he leaned forward, then kissed Meg on the mouth. his tongue slid between her lips and Meg arched her back, mashing her breasts against his arm and chest. She pushed him back onto the bed, her wings flaring as she straddled him. Once more, Liam was brought back to his first days on Purgatory, when all was strange, save for the intense, feminine lust of Meg.

Through war and pain, love and laughter, they had grown together. And when she pushed him back and away so she could draw breath, the only words on his lips were: “Yes, god yes…”

Meg chortled. “You just want to see me get big. And round. And curvy.” She grinned. Wickedly. “I remember how you panted after Fizit while she was three months in and nearly about to sire. Well, I’ll have you know…” Her voice was husky. “Valkyrie children take a year and a day to... get ready.”

The soft slap of Liam’s cock hitting her rump as he went from half to full mast jerked a laugh out of her.

“I knew you had a pregnancy fetish!”

“I never said otherwise-”

“Knew. It.” Meg grinned, then shoved him onto the back of the bed. Her voice became a husky purr. “I hear that the spells that allow for cross-species fertilization have... interesting effects on women.” Her voice was husky.

Liam gulped.

He’d fucked Meg in the jungle, in alleyways, in dungeons, in the bath, in beds, over his desk, against walls, and on drugs. He had never thought he could feel nervous about laying her again... until now.

“I guess we better find Tethis,” he managed.

Meg’s hands grabbed onto his and then she flapped her wings once. They almost flew out of bed, Liam’s feet hitting the ground. He yelped and almost fell flat on his face as his artificial foot almost slipped off his stump. He almost tumbled on his face before Meg caught him, laughing.

“Sorry about that,” she said, grinning.

Liam made a face at her. But as they turned to go, Liv reached out with one languid arm and caught Meg’s wrist. She tugged the other woman back and herself up, Mary making a soft mewling noise as her mouth detached from Liv’s hard nipple with a soft pop. Liv looked up at Meg, her breath coming in soft, eager pants. “I heard you two,” she said.

Meg blinked, looking slightly confused. Then Liv said: “Mommy lessons.”

Meg chuckled, softly, then sat down on the bed. She gently drew Liv away from Mary’s soft, red form. Liam smiled as she saw the two naked girls sitting next to each other. Liv was the picture of pure nervousness and was trying to hide it under her normal bravado, her long white hair spilling down to almost cover her breasts. Meg looked like she was searching for the right words. And Mary... well, Mary looked like she was still in mewling fuckpet mode.

That was the moment her tail snaked around his still intact ankle and started to yank him forward. Liam’s arms flailed and he skidded along the ground before falling onto the bed. He spread his hands so as not squash Mary - and her spread her thighs wide in response. Her ankle thrust between Meg and Liv’s faces. Meg gently put her hand on Mary’s ankle and lifted her leg out of the way, her wings fluttering slightly as she closed them around her shoulders.

“I’m not sure I can be a mom,” Liv said, quietly.

Liam bit his lip and tried to be very quiet as he slipped, inch by lovely inch, into Mary’s hungry cunt. His hand clapped over her mouth and she moaned happily against his palm, her eyes closing, her face filled with utter joy and contentment as her vice tight pussy clenched on his cock. Liam nearly drew blood.

Meg reached up and gently smacked Liv’s cheek. Liv started. “The fuck-”

“I’m going to do that every time you say stupid shit,” Meg said, casually. She drew her legs up onto the bed, then crossed them. “You might not be my slave anymore, but I remember how Liam tiptoed around you the whole time, and you just drove him to distraction. So, everytime you say something stupid, I’ll smack you. Preferably on the butt.” She purred. “That’s more fun.”

Liv scowled. “Fun, huh?”

“Well, you don’t expect me to not have fun while my hubby’s balls deep in some nun.” Meg chuckled. “Hey, Liam, what’s black, white, and shuddering all over?”

Liam - who was on his fifth thrust, his body moving with glacial slowness to try and not interrupt the conversation going on beside him - hissed: “Going to hell, Meg!”

Meg laughed, then turned her head back to Liv, who was flushing slightly. “Fine. Here’s some truth. I?” Liv pointed at herself. “I’m not... I can’t... I can’t be a mom. I never planned any of this! What will I teach the kid?”

“Marion,” Meg said, quietly.

Liv bit her lip. Guilt wracked across her face and she slowly looked down. Her eyes closed as she breathed in, then out. It was a slow, measured movement of air, and Meg’s brow furrowed as she noted the slight ripple that slid along Liv’s hair, as if a kind of energy was crawling along her skin. “Marion,” Liv said. “I didn’t even pick her name…”

Meg reached out with one wing and closed it around Liv, drawing her close.

“I like it,” Liv said, turning her head aside. But that didn’t mean she wasn’t looking at Meg. Instead, her nose was pressing into the feathers of Meg’s wing as she leaned against Meg’s shoulder. Liv closed her eyes and whispered. “I’m terrified, okay? I’m terrified that I’ll just be my father again. That’ll I’ll raise a weapon, or a tool. Not a daughter.” Her finger stroked along the feathers of Meg’s wing.

Meg tried to ignore slow kindling lust that having her wings petted always lit between her thighs. Now was not the time. Instead, she instead put her hand on Liv’s shoulder - as chastely as she could. She squeezed and said: “You won’t. I’ll be here. To smack you. If you start doing stupid shit.” She smiled. “Raising your daughter to be a tool definitely falls under that umbrella.”

Liv nodded and chuckled. “I suppose it does.”

She looked at Meg, her eyes shining. Those beautiful, electric blue eyes. So similar to Meg’s, it was like looking into the eyes of a sister. Meg chuckled. “We are actually more alike than I think either of us like to admit. Yeah, I fly, and have super-strength and bigger titties-”

Liv slapped her thigh with a laugh.

“But we both had bastard fathers. We both love men who definitely don’t deserve us.”

“Hey!” Liam called weakly, his head tucked down against Mary’s shoulder, his cum dripping down her ass as she twitched and writhed in the ecstasy that only a lilin with a cunt-full of cum could feel.

“You just need my innate perfection and self-confidence!” Meg said, cheerfully thrusting out her chest as she planted her hands behind her on the bed. Liv snorted, then leaned against her. She kissed Meg’s neck gently.

“Fine,” she whispered.

Meg smiled and looped one arm around Liv’s shoulder. Her hand reached up to gently caress Liv’s ear, causing Liv to shudder slightly. Meg shook her head and simply held Liv, petting her until Liv started to snore quietly. Meg wasn’t surprised - the poor elf had been through an intense flurry of emotions and strange powers. She’d have been tuckered out in her place. Behind her, Mary was snoring as well. Liam stood with a hangdog, bedraggled look, and together, they put Liv into her bed and tucked her up against Mary. The two clung to one another and settled a moment later, Mary’s tail coiling around Liv’s waist.

“It’s going to be hard teaching her how to be maternal,” Meg said, quietly. “But it will be worth it and I’m glad she wants to be.” She paused. “Not that there’s anything wrong with not wanting to have kids, but when you already got them…” She spread her hands, slightly. “You have to step up.”

Liam took Meg’s hand. He walked her to the door of the room, then murmured. “You've been an awesome mom to Marion. She'd have been fine.”

Meg slapped him, gently. “Hah! Kids need, like, twenty moms. At least. Have you seen how much work it takes to keep them occupied?”

Liam felt his normal stab of guilt flare to life. Before he could reflect on that, though, he found himself being dragged along the corridor so fast that he nearly lost his foot. Meg held his arm in hers and walked towards Tethis’ office. They arrived to find Tethis pouring over papers and notes, her brow furrowing. Her mage-light cast a warm glow in the office, which added a delicious cast to her emerald green skin, which was mostly exposed by her small shift. Meg stole into the room nearly silently. When her hands closed around Tethis’ breasts, the small woman almost leaped into Meg’s chin with her squeal of surprise.

“Meg!” Tethis sounded angry.

Meg grinned and set Tethis down on the desk. “Get me fertile, Tethis, cause Liam and I are going to baby town.”

“No!” Tethis exclaimed.

Meg looked at Liam, then back at Tethis.

“Why not?” Liam asked, cocking his head.

“You’re still recovering from having your brain operated on!” Tethis said. “Residual healing energies are still in your body. A fertility spell is one of the most complex spells on Purgatory. It took an Ancient artifact to make splicing lizardfolk and human genetics possible, and the difference between lizardfolk and humans is far less great than the difference between a valkyrie and a human. You’re part god, part Ancient construct, and part…” She flung up her hands. “Who knows!”

Meg looked chagrined. “Really? I didn’t think it’d be that hard…”

Tethis sighed, slowly. “I can’t do it tonight.” Then her features softened. “But I will have the spell ready by the time your body is ready for it. That I promise.” She smiled slightly at Meg, who now looked resigned to waiting. But then a momentary flash of emotion crossed Tethis' face. She immediately looked intensely guilty as she tried to hide what she had been thinking. Meg and Liam glanced at one another. Liam arched an eyebrow at Meg. Meg inclined her head, as if to say: Ladies first.

Liam rolled his eyes, then smiled at Tethis. “What was it you were going to ask, Tethis?”

Tethis rubbed the back of her neck. “It was nothing.”

“Don’t make me sic Meg on-”

“I was wondering!” Tethis squeaked out, her cheeks darkening to an almost black as her flush grew more intense. “I-If I could ask for a, uh, payment.”

Liam chuckled. “I think I've kept you pretty well supplied.”

“Actually, I think you've been neglecting me,” Tethis said quietly. “Earlier was the first time in a year. Once isn't enough.”

Meg smirked. “Well, what are you waiting for, husband? Start boning Tethis so we can make a baby.”

“I want more than that,” Tethis said, blushing. “Back during the War, I was... Laurentinus and I were... were getting close. He and I were together when we were attacked, and we never got a chance to, uh, to…” She trailed off.

Liam grinned, slowly. “You want me to set something up?”

Tethis hung her head forward. Quietly, she whispered. “Yes…”

Liam reached out. His finger caught Tethis’ chin and lifted her head up. His eyes bored into hers as he leaned forward. His voice was husky and dominant. “You want me to see if Laurentinus wants to slide his cock into your tight little pussy?”

“Yesss,” Tethis hissed.

“And other places?”

“Mayyyybe,” Tethis moaned.

Liam felt his member slowly hardening again. The pheromone hit and Tethis earlier spell had left him with at least one more round. Meg rubbed her hands together with a wicked grin as Liam took Tethis’ hand in his.

“Come on. Though, ah, I should get a kilt on first.”

***

Laurentinus had been the captain of the city guard, back when it had been merely a busy trading city and not the most powerful city state in Purgatory. Now, as a general of the Cross Guard, his duties were mostly administrative. That didn’t mean that he sat around on his laurels. Liam and Tethis found him in one of the training rooms on the first level of the palace, working on his swordwork. He was as shirtless as Liam, and like Liam, handling a blade had given him a toned physique. While he lacked Liam’s sheer size and bulk, he made up for it with gymnast's grace and panther sleekness.

His green skin shone with sweat as he finished a set of moves, pausing to sheath his practice sword in its scabbard before turning to face Liam and Tethis. His face - a serious, stoic one that hadn’t even shown fear during the worst parts of the War of the False God - flashed for one instant upon seeing Tethis before he schooled it to stillness again. Coughing, he inclined his head. “Lord Vanderbilt. Lady Tethis.”

Liam nodded. “At ease, General.” He smiled. “How is training going, Laurentinus?”

Laurentinus chuckled and stretched one arm across his chest. “Well enough, Liam.”

Fighting side by side multiple times did put one on a first name basis. But Liam saw that the goblin’s eyes never stopped flicking towards Tethis. Tethis stood beside him, quivering with excitement. She clearly expected Liam to have some grand plan to get them all fucking.

Unfortunately, as Liam had discovered years before, he was not the best at grand plans when it came to seduction, and a silence stretched out awkwardly.

“How can I help you both?” Laurentinus said eventually.

In the end, Liam simply reached down, took hold of Tethis’ shift, then tugged it up and over her head. The fabric hugged her deliciously soft and full breasts upwards, then let them drop down, jiggling fetchingly as she stood completely nude before Laurentinus on the training mats. Liam grinned slightly and then gently pushed Tethis forward. She stepped forward, her hands clasping before her belly as she gaped at the general.

“I want you,” she whispered.

Laurentinus’ stoic dedication had been utterly obliterated. The only thing showing what he thought more clearly than his mouth - which hung nearly to his kilt - was, well, said kilt, which bulged around his maleness.

Laurentinus stepped forward and gently cupped Tethis’ breasts. He squeezed them, then purred. “They’re as soft as I imagined…”

“You imagined them?” Tethis squeaked, sounding overjoyed.

“How could I not?”

Liam’s member was growing harder and harder by the moment. His eyes met Laurentinus’ eyes and he made a subtle hand gesture. Laurentinus nodded quickly. Liam grinned and then shucked off his kilt. His cock swayed as he swaggered up behind Tethis, kneeling on the floor. His hands grabbed her hips and he kissed her eartip as he leaned forward. His teeth gently nibbled and Tethis’ spine went ram-rod stiff and straight as she realized just what she was getting into. Before she could say anything, Laurentinus leaned forward and kissed her. Hard. Her hands grabbed his and she squeezed him to her body.

Liam sat back as Tethis’ rump slotted against his hard cock. She ground her ass up and down his cock as Laurentinus broke the kiss and began to aggressively kiss along her neck. He bit her skin and Tethis cried out in pure bliss. “Oh General!”

“Heh.” Laurentinus grinned over her head at Liam as he started to undo his belt. “You have a way of making men feel inadequate, Liam.”

Tethis, her eyes half closed, her head lolling to the side, started to chant. Liam felt a tingling energy rush along his skin. But it didn’t settle on him. Rather, it glowed, gathered, then spread along his skin to Tethis skin to Laurentinus’ skin. The other goblin flared and gasped as his body expanded. Steam rushed from out of his ears and nose as he swelled larger and larger, until he was only a head shorter than Liam.

He had grown proportionally...

Tethis grinned weakly. “I’ve been studying Quinny’s girlfriend.” Laurentinus looked at his hands. Before he could ask any questions, Tethis added: “It only lasts thirty minutes. Quick!”

“Size queen,” Liam purred.

Tethis just laughed as she spread her thighs. Trapped between two larger men, her smaller stature felt all the more deliciously naughty. Her breasts mashed against Laurentinus chest as she rubbed her face against his green abs. Her tongue darted out as she licked him. Laurentinus grabbed onto her knees and started to stand. Liam hurriedly got his feet under him... and soon, both men held Tethis between one another, their heads easily clearing her head. They looked at one another over her and grinned.

“You know,” Laurentinus said. “I still feel inadequate.”

Liam chuckled. Then, seriously. “Tethis?”

“Mmmhhrr?” Tethis sounded almost drunk.

Liam’s grin was wicked.

“Lubricate me.”

She managed to get the words out. Barely. And as Liam felt lube spreading along his cock - cool and slick - he felt Laurentinus let go of one thigh. Taking over for holding that thigh, Liam spread Tethis wider as Laurentinus took hold of his own member. Even at the same scale, he wasn’t as big as Liam but he was still large for a goblin. And a gobliness. Tethis took his inches with a squeal of absolute delight. As he hilted himself in her moistness, Liam adjusted his grip. Laurentinus took over as if they had done this a thousand times and held Tethis in arms that were corded with iron hard muscle.

Liam took hold of his cock and pressed the lubed tip to Tethis’ pert rosebud. Her ass spread for him and she made a noise that almost sounded pained... but when he froze, she hissed out a desperate: “Yes, please, fuck, gods, yes!” through her teeth. Liam moved as gently as he could, filling her ass more and more and more. The feeling of her tightness around him was nearly enough to set him off. If he hadn’t spent himself in so many women in this one debauched night...

Well, Liam wasn’t sure what would have happened.

As it was, he kept control. He could feel Laurentinus cock filling her as well. Tethis welcomed them both, and her mouth hung open, her eyes drooped, and her ears hung low, almost against her shoulders. Her entire body had gone slack with pleasure. Liam grinned.

“I never thought I’d see this expression again…” He said as Laurentinus started to slowly slide back, then thrust back in. Tethis’ hips and his slapped together, and his balls brushed against Liam’s, adding another level of sensory excess to this moment. Liam started to move in counterpoint to Laurentinus thrusts, and Tethis jiggled between them as she started to mewl in wordless ecstasy.

“What?” Laurentinus asked around gritted teeth.

“The expression when you literally fuck Tethis’ brains out…” Liam growled - a tone of voice that came from both the pure masculinity that was roaring through his brain and the control it took to not empty both balls into Tethis right this instant. She had gone from mewling to gasping to screams. Just pure screams of pleasure. Sometimes, words came out. Words like ‘gods’ and ‘yes’ and ‘fuck.’ But for the most part, Tethis was letting her animal side show.

And when Tethis’ let her wild side out, her fingernails dug into the nearest set of shoulders. Liam was rather glad to be taking her back, and not just because her ass felt so exquisite on his cock.

Laurentinus, for his part, looked like he was taking the clawing well. His face was a mask of bliss as he leaned into Tethis, whispering sweet nothings into her ear as his balls now pounded against Liam’s as their bodies moved in unison. That was what finally set Liam over the edge - not the actual physical sensations of his balls touching another man’s, but the knowledge that he was fucking Tethis against another man, pinning her between two cocks.

It was that that broke through the last thread of willpower keeping his orgasm back.

Liam nearly passed out. His knees locked and his jaw clenched as he came and came and came. His balls spurted into Tethis’ ass, filling her to the brim, then overflowing, cum dripping down her buttocks. Meanwhile, he noticed that Laurentinus had pulled out of Tethis with a jerk of his hips. His cum shot up and Tethis laughed with pure joy as cum splashed against her belly, her thighs, her face, her breasts. As she was soaked in cum and filled with cum, Liam felt his knees almost give way. He slowly managed to get to the ground without falling or dropping Tethis. The end result was his back flared with pain and his knees ached.

Worth it.

Laurentinus sagged down and shrank slowly back to his goblin form. Liam slid out of Tethis, then slowly sprawled to the side. The three of them lay on the leather mat, breathing slowly as their hearts faded from pounding to merely hammering to just beating. Liam smiled.

“How was that?”

Tethis smiled. “Great.”

Laurentinus laughed. “Dare I ask?”

Tethis started to stammer out an explanation - but Liam listened with only half an ear. Instead, he looked up at the rafters... and frowned.

Had that been a crow he had seen up there?

***

Kailey shook her head as her vision returned to her body. Quinn’s hands were firmly planted on her breasts, caressing her gently as she waited for her lover to return. Kailey laughed softly.

“So, you say that Tethis was a bit cautious?”

“Totally afraid of her own sexuality,” Quinn said, nodding. “It took, like, three ales before she’d even kiss me.”

Kailey grinned. “I think you might find talking to her again now quite... instructive.”

Quinn laughed, softly.

Then, in the darkness of the room, Quinn asked: “Are you sure about this?”

Kailey was silent for a time. She considered everything she had seen of Babylon, of this Free Lord, of his household. She considered paladins with their gleaming swords of steel and magic. She considered the strange woman who had fallen from the sky and her fully automatic musket. She considered this all with a mind honed in Tuatha politics and piratical command... and came to the only obvious conclusion.

“We have to hold out for a Letter of Marque. No naval commissions, no chains. We need something we can get rid of in a hurry if the war turns.”

Quinn nodded.

“And we need to keep our eyes open.” Kailey grinned. “Just in case we need some leverage.”

“Just in case, right?” Quinn’s eyes narrowed slightly, her hands sliding along her lover’s muscular belly. “We’re sticking here unless the war goes real bad.”

“Of course!” Kailey turned slowly around. She pushed her lover back onto the bed, her hands going to her shoulders. Her voice grew soft. “Besides. With us standing against him, how could Ares stand a fucking chance?”

Epilogue

The struggling and bound captive was dragged through Godhead Palace by a single Paladin. Dragged, though, was an inaccurate word. It implied their feet touched the ground. Despite being tall and gangly, the captive was held aloft one-handed by the Paladin.

Lady Tabitha was not a very happy Paladin.

Even bringing a captive to God wasn’t enough to put a smile on her face.

When she entered the throne room and into the presence of God, she threw the captive to ground. They skidded along the floor, then came to a stop before the throne. God looked, as he usually did, like a well-muscled, bronzed Hellene.

According to everything Lady Tabitha had learned through her training, the old, false religions had claimed that humans had been crafted from clay, by false gods. God, the true God, had crafted humanity to be his most loyal servants. Humans were to stand above perfidious elves (useful, but ultimately treasonous), clever goblins (too weak to be fully useful) and the stupid lizardfolk (barely better than beasts, really.)

Was it any wonder that God chose to honor his most favored creations by taking their form and perfecting it? Lady Tabitha had sworn to be chaste – all Paladins only had time for training, service and worship - but looking at his broad chest and muscular body sent a sinful tickle between her thighs. Service and worship could take many forms... She forced the thought aside with a clenched jaw.

She removed her helmet and mask, set it down beside her and knelt in the same smooth motion. She bowed her head.

“Paladin,” God said, cheerfully. “I hear that you have breached the outer walls of New Athens?”

“Yes, God,” Lady Tabitha said, her voice firm as she remained looking at the floor. She would not mention it had cost her twice as many men as she had wished. That the city had not been taken down by cannon and clever tactics, but rather, because she had been forced to throw men at the walls in waves. That the false gods had escaped in the slow, grinding confusion of the battle.

She would mention such things later, after God had been distracted by the prisoner.

“And who is this you have brought?” God stood, walking to the prisoner. “Is it one of the pretender gods?”

“No, my lord,” Lady Tabitha said. “She’s... something else.”

God did not bend down to lift the prisoner. Instead, he simply twitched his fingers and an invisible force clutched the woman by the arms and lifted her up. The bag covering her head yanked off. She was a mousy little thing, with brown hair, a sprawl of freckles. Her eyes, though, were protected by a curious set of metal frames and glittering glass. Strange, boxy protrusions stuck to either side of the eye covers, both glinting with more glass.

“Who are you?” God murmured, looking at her.

The woman gulped.

Stammered.

“D-D-D-Doctor Kathleen Cole,” she whispered.

God blinked.

Then laughed.

“Why, Dr. Cole!” he boomed. “Your colleagues have been wondering where you were.” He waved his hand forward. Several guards stomped forward and he tossed the terrified woman from Earth to them. “Take her to the dungeons. And remind the others when you do...”

God smirked.

“They can work for me or they can die.”

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Valkyrie Vs Valkyrie - Dragon Cobolt vs Max Keith. Two Uruk Press authors go head to head when each writes the other's famous character in their own style.

In "Just Like Clockwork", Dragon Cobolt takes Alorin Kaye, the icy heroine of Max Keith's Raxillene's Rogues, for a river boat romp. Alorin's business is killing but just because she's on a job doesn't mean she can't have a little fun.

Meanwhile, in "Over The Rainbow", Max Keith takes Megaera the Messenger, the anything-goes star of Dragon Cobolt's best-selling Purgatory Wars series, on a wild ride. Meet a priapic Heimdallr, visit a seedy Valhalla and discover why you should never trust a god.

Valkyrie Vs Valkyrie: two stories, 22,000 words, two totally different takes on two very sexy characters, all at a permanently low price.

Worldshard

Welcome to the Sunder, we've got fun and games!

Three thousand years after the Endwar, humanity has dragged itself back from the brink of extinction with grit, determination and the might of the Champions. Robotic avatars of their city-states, Champions are fusions of the most advanced technology and a heroic human soul, designed to withstand the mutagenic dangers of the Sunder.

For the imperialistic, warmongering nation of Korvosa, Champions are apex weapon and propaganda tool all in one. The only problem is their latest Champion, Vengeful Crystallline Hawk 45C, has the soul of a diehard patriot loyal to one of the smaller nations Korvosa conquered two centuries ago. With the body of a bombshell supermodel crossed with walking tank and a head full of democratic ideals, Cee could be the ultimate threat to Korvosa or their ultimate prize.

Torn between past and future, Cee would be in trouble. If she wasn't an ass-kicking, super-strong, beamsword-slinging, sexy as sin Champion...

Mixing space opera, steampunk and science fantasy, Cadet is the 50,000 word first volume of the Worldshard trilogy. Sexy, funny and out of this world, it is sure to blow your mind.