Page 21

Chapter

Twenty-One

T he city was busy and alive with foreign sights and sounds that were typical of most large cities, but Veldala’s activity was fraught with a different kind of energy. The populace shied away from them as Abby walked with her leashed manticore down the main street that ran through the city to the palace rising above the public buildings on the other side of the market. Despite the distance the people kept from them, they watched fearfully as if they expected at that moment that Samir would break from Abby’s control. This was despite the precautions that they took to render him harmless in appearance.

Smaller manacles bound his arms and legs as he prowled on all fours to keep his stride checked. There were short chains running between his bound wrists and another between the manacles on his legs and both chains were connected in turn by a longer chain so that he had no hope of successfully running or leaping. There was also an enchanted golden band that ran across his mouth, held in place with a leather strap, stifling his fiery breath and blocking his ability to bite. Even his tail was bound to his back where it couldn’t inflict damage.

He was rendered as helpless as possible and still people stared at him as if he were about to strip their flesh from their bones. It annoyed her more than it ought to have. She knew that people were afraid of monsters and had every reason to be—elsewise her family and many other hunters wouldn’t be necessary—but her hand tightened on his chain, and she gritted her teeth tightly together as they made their way down the street.

She noted that word appeared to spread rapidly of her arrival. Not surprising all things considered. The moment she stepped out of the market, an armed escort surrounded her, blocking off the crowd. They made a show of forming a barrier to protect the populace from “the beast.” This much she knew from the bits of language she was able to decipher shouted from the guards. They were warning people to remain back for their protection, that they had arrived to secure the beast and bring it before the king for the reckoning of the gods. It was not the first time Abby heard of a king being referred to as a vessel or even a half-divine descendant of a deity, even if it was utilized to justify their absolute authority no matter how deplorable they were as a ruler, so she kept her expression flat as she followed the men who took position in front of her.

Samir did not appear to even react to the guards, not even when Zayman finally joined them at the palace gates, a look of shock flitting across his face. His gaze briefly shifted away from them and appeared to search someone out before returning to her. Abby’s eyes drifted away from his displeased expression, noting the considerable height of the palace walls and the luxurious greenery and gardens just inside them. Only the palace was walled and possessed greenery. It was a stark contrast to the rougher buildings of the city itself, signs of suffering among the populace, and open vulnerability of the city beyond the palace. It seemed that the king was well fortified against anything that the desert could throw at him, including his own people.

Zayman edged in closer to her side, keeping her in between him and the manticore, drawing her attention back to him—and Samir’s sharp glare as well, though he didn’t notice—as he leaned in with an unwelcome familiarity. “This is not what we agreed upon. You were not paid to fetch a monster but to do what your people do—hunt it.”

“I saw an opportunity and took it. A generous king will reward someone well who can bring him fabulous sights,” she murmured.

Zayman scowled but sighed, his eyes rolling upward. “As it happens, you are correct, and the king is beside himself with a chance to include a fabled manticore to his menagerie.”

Abby made a non-committal sound, choosing to ignore the part about the menagerie. She had said she would show the king sights to draw him out to negotiation, not with any attention in allowing him to keep Samir. But that seemed like a detail that she would be wise to keep to herself for the time being. Instead, she watched avidly as he waved away the guards and gestured for her to follow him as they proceeded beyond the gates. The path beneath their feet was paved with literal gold that wound through the blooming courtyard garden to the ornate palace rising at the center of the royal complex.

The elegance of the courtyard gardens was breathtaking. She didn’t recognize most of them and yet was surprised to see that there were a number of flowers included among them that she recognized from the northern lands where the weather tended to be temperate and wet. Fat roses bloomed forming long, graceful hedges and she wondered in passing just how much water was needed to keep the heat from killing them. The lush scent of the roses mingled with other fragrances from the numerous flowering plants that were displayed in fine urns and rode up trellises. It was a fantasy garden of delights that she was certain likely hid away more than one courtier absconding with their lover. She was suddenly glad for Zayman’s company as her escort. She certainly had no interest in coming across any trysts. Although she considered herself far from a prude, it was just one other thing that added to the carefree decadence of her surroundings in ways that made her distinctly uncomfortable. It was as if no one within the walls had a care for anything happening beyond them and she found that highly concerning.

“His majesty Vincent Decort has a great love for splendors,” Zayman continued dryly. “He spares no expense on his vast gardens, as evident before you, nor on his menagerie off the north-eastern wing where he explores his various entertainments.”

“I see,” she murmured. “And is his majesty expecting us or…”

“He has cleared his schedule for you,” he interrupted sourly, his lips pinching as if he were sucking on one of the lush lemons hanging from the citrus trees, the branches of which they were currently passing under. “Nothing competes with his love for his entertainments.”

“I see,” Abby murmured as a twinge of uncertainty struck.

If he valued his amusements over his affairs of state, she suddenly had a bad feeling that the king would be less than willing to release Samir even after she presented his offer. If he insisted on adding the manticore to his “collection,” there was little doubt that things would get volatile quickly. Samir was willing to be humbled by removing his defenses to get his audience with the king, but he would not take kindly being caged like a beast. The manticore’s thought seemed to be heading in a similar direction because the chains binding his legs rattled louder, and his steps became warier and more resistant the nearer they came to the palace door.

“We aren’t meeting him in the menagerie, are we?”

“No, thank the blessed gods,” Zayman retorted, his nose wrinkling. “The king may love his collection, but he at least spares his loyal subjects from being subjected to the deplorable stench of his beloved creatures. We will be meeting him in the throne room.”

The throne room, it turned out, for all its extravagance and obvious indulgences put on display and enjoyed by the courtiers, was nothing short of chaos. Laughter filled the room along with the overly sweet smell of the burning, sticky residue gathered from the sap of the sweetwell weed. A woman, clothed in nothing but gold chains fastened ornamentally around her wrists, ankles, belly, collar, and head, lay stretched out on a table in the middle of the room as men drizzled a thick, honey-like substance over her sex and breasts. The woman’s pupils were blown out, likely due to the sweetwell, and she seemed oblivious to the raucous laughter or what the men were doing to her as they rubbed the liquid onto her breasts and between her legs.

“What… what are they doing?” she whispered.

“Impromptu entertainment,” Zayman casually replied. “The manticore has some semblance to a man and monsters are known to have a fondness for honey and milk like many other creatures that came to our land during the collision. In short, they want to see if the manticore will feast carnally upon the woman and take his pleasure on her before devouring her whole.”

Abby gaped as she came to an abrupt halt. “Excuse me?”

“I know. You don’t need to say anything. I am glad that they at least had the consideration to dope up the poor girl first,” he said with a grimace. “It’s one thing to enjoy witnessing creatures degrading themselves and those we had selected for our pleasure, but the manticore is far more unusual than what we usually submit criminals and servants to. No doubt it’s one of his majesty’s ‘experiments’ that he so loves to conduct with his monstrosities.”

She blinked rapidly and swallowed back her nausea. She felt as if she were going to be sick. At her side, Samir snarled and backpedaled, his tail tugging violently against the chain holding it in place. Zayman stepped back, giving the monster berth as he stared at him nervously.

“And you just… let this happen?”

His gaze snapped up from the manticore to her once he was certain that Samir wasn’t going to break from his bounds and gave her a churlish look. “I don’t allow anything. I follow orders. It is how I’ve risen so high in the court to become the king’s trusted right-hand man. It is a lesson that you should learn as well,” he retorted coolly. “If you had done as you were paid to do—as your family would have done—and simply killed the beast then you would have remained oblivious to this aspect of court life. I should have known better than to trust a mere girl with such an important job.”

Her jaw clenched angrily. “That doesn’t make this okay, nor that you shouldn’t be attempting to put a stop to it.”

Zayman snorted mirthlessly. “Who are you to judge? Look at you! You’ve brought a dangerous monster straight into the heart of Veldala. It is foolish! I expect better professionalism considering who your parents are.”

She straightened, her jaw hardening. “He is not like that. Even my parents would have seen that. Do you imagine anyone would have been able to put him in chains if he was unwilling. He is suffering this humiliation in order to negotiate for the valuable service he provides for the desert. It is for everyone’s mutual benefit. He will continue to protect you so long as he might live in peace.”

“Negotiate?” Zayman barked with laughter. “Is that what this absurd performance is about? I had imagined it to be your plan to get more money from the king. I never would have imagined a hunter becoming a traitor to her own kind and aligning herself with a monster she has sworn to kill. The king and the entire court will laugh at such an assumption. He is a creature with no right to negotiate. He is a dangerous monster. Even now he could potentially break free and bring about a bloodbath on the city and every inhabitant of the palace.”

“And perhaps you would deserve it,” she replied, biting out every word. “Perhaps I should release him now so you can see for yourself.”

His eyes widened and he took a step back from her. “That is madness. To even suggest that…. you are no hunter!”

“Zayman? What is going on here?”

King Decort walked toward them from among the crowd; his brow furrowed with confusion. He was not as old as Abby expected him to be given that he was a king. There was only the smallest hint of gray in his beard, but his features bore the softness of a child. His gaze fell upon Samir then and she saw the true depravity within him as his expression lit up and he licked his lips with his thick tongue hungrily.

Abby straightened, intentionally placing herself between the king and the manticore. This was her opportunity. “I’m here to negotiate on behalf of the manticore, Samir, who is graciously submitting to your royal authority. He destroys many dangers that come into his territory in the desert and deserves rewards and peace, not hunters sent after his skin and tail as trophies.”

The king frowned at her. “What need do I have for that? I have plenty of troops and men at my disposal to send after anything that threatens my kingdom. What I want is right here.” His head craned to peer around her, his frustration melting away as it was replaced by an expression of excitement. “I have never imaged to have a manticore to add to my menagerie, and yet here he is!” he exclaimed with a happily little, sadistic laugh as Zayman pulled her to the side to give the king an unobstructed view. “Oh, isn’t he splendid,” Decort crooned rapturously. “I cannot wait to see what he’s capable of.”

Abby frowned. So that was it. The king did not care about the lives of anyone but his own and had no consideration for anything other than his own perverse pleasures. He would never negotiate for peace with Samir; he only wanted to harm the male she loved and the people within the city. Not only he but his whole treacherous court needed to go if anyone was to have any peace. “I’m quite certain that he’s eager to show you,” Abby agreed darkly.

The king laughed. “Is he indeed? Marvelous. Simply marvelous.”

“Your majesty, I don’t think—" Zayman protested, but Decort cut him off with a disgusted look.

“Oh, shut up, Bibal. I don’t care what you think. If you are not going to participate and join in on our pleasures, then you can leave.” A cruel smile tugged at the king’s mouth. “Though I do imagine you will be staying. You may protest but your dick gets hard at these little displays, and you’ve even fucked a siren once we had cut off her wings, removed her treacherous tongue, and pinned her down for you. Consider this an even more exotic experience.”

“Yes, Zayman, do stay,” Abby agreed, disgust roiling in her stomach.

The king smiled at her and chuckled. “You see even your little huntress agrees. She understands the allure of the forbidden appetites these creatures possess. It spices up the fucking to see a monster’s inhuman cock plow whatever pussy or ass that they decide to rut.”

Abby gave him a brittle smile in turn as Zayman continued to back away, a cruel and angry sort of glee rising within her as she anticipated what was to happen. “No, I don’t think you understand, King Decort. I came here with the intention of ridding you of monsters. It is why he is here as well,” she said nodding toward Samir. “And now I see that we get to do exactly that.”

The king’s smile fell. “I don’t understand,” he murmured but his eyes widened with a satisfying amount of fear as she whipped her blade from her belt.

She had the key for Samir’s chains, but she ignored them for the moment, focusing on the greatest weapon at his disposal. Summoning all the brutal force she possessed, she slashed through the strategically placed ties keeping the binding straps in place. A broad grin stretched across her face as his tail whipped free through the air and buried deeply within the broad chest of King Vincent Decort. The king’s eyes glazed with the force of fiery venom pumping into him, and his mouth gaped in a silent scream as he reached for Zayman as the gutless worm fled.

Abby shook her head as the screams began but she ignored them as she bent to her task, quickly unlocking clasp after clasp, the clatter of the chains falling away mingling with the sounds of terror from the courtiers. They had clearly emerged from the blissful fog of lust and whatever drug they were imbibing long enough to notice their king laying prone on the gold floor, his face swelling and discoloring, and they were now rushing in a blind panic to flee. Samir’s tail whipping through the air stirred them to a greater frenzy and she blinked in surprise when several were brought low by projectile barbs viciously flung from the thick ridges of Samir’s tail.

He rose above them all like a shadow of death. With one hand he stripped off the gold binding covering his mouth and let out a deep roar that shook to the foundation of the palace as flames spewed from him, rushing over the nearest piece of architecture. It was no mere roar but was laced with magic that she could feel ripple and spark in the air and borrow deep into her bones. Her mage blood responded to it, captivated by its power as he bellowed again, and flames rushed over the surface of the floor as he leaped forward in his attack.

Screams filled the air as he ripped through the courtiers. He ignored the servants, leaving them to go in peace as they gathered up the girl from the altar and hurried away fearfully. Even in his rage he protected them. Abby smiled and holstered her to javelin to pull out her crossbow—another treasure from Samir’s trophy wall. Drawing back the bow, she locked an arrow into place. She shot the gilded courtiers who would have gladly feasted and fucked while an innocent girl was torn apart until she ran out of arrows. At that point the brutal death from her javelin suited her fine. She pulled it free once more from her harness, sending it flying through the air to bury into the naked chest of a mostly nude male with gold paint applied to his loins, emphasizing the piercings that run up his cock, many of which were connected by delicate chains. She gave them a curious glance as she stalked past him, wrenching her weapon from his flesh.

Strange how she felt nothing. There was no sickness that rose within her at the sight of his gore. Monsters. They were the true monsters. Every single one of them. She killed until blood became like a second skin, until she at last stood above the one man who had brought her out there.

She smiled down at him and lowering the tip of her javelin on the floor at her side as the sound of pillars cracking from the force of magic and rising heat of the fire filled the throne room. “You didn’t expect me to return, did you? I wasn’t supposed to. You were so surprised when I appeared at the gates and that was because I was supposed to be murdered by your henchman—whomever you had planned to send once I finished the job.”

“You should have died,” he spat out, blood gurgling from his lips.

Her eyes drifted over him casually. Was he wounded already? Ah, there it was. Although small compared to the size of Simar’s stinger, one of her lover’s long barbs stuck out from her employer’s chest.

“You traitor. You are no huntress,” Zayman gurgled weakly.

She cocked her head as she considered him, drawing out a long knife from her belt, her smile widening. “No, you are right.” With one deft motion, she sliced through his throat, enjoying the sight of his blood welling up and spilling forth, purifying the depravity of the palace along with the other blood drenching the stones. She leaned down as the light began to go out of his eyes. “I’m a monster.”