Gary sighed. Just once, he thought, couldn't he be attacked in nice, sunny weather?
Sword drawn, he stood up with his back to the wagon, rain feeling like hail on his bare head. He could barely see the three "potential" thieves spread out before him. Out of habit, Gary refused to consider them such until they actually attacked. Before then, there was always the possibility they'd run away, and a thief who didn't bother him was no thief in his book.
"I have three over here, Dad."
Samantha's voice was strong, confident, carrying well through the rain and over the wagon. For once, Gary was glad she looked a bit younger than her years. With her hair and figure, holding her weapon as one with at least some skill, they'd probably confuse her in this weather for a son, or hired help. Anything to keep these idiots back for a few extra seconds. Anything to give them time.
Time for what, he wished he knew.
Gary heard nothing from inside the wagon. Good. Polly was laying low. In her condition, although the baby was not really showing, he did not want her involved. He could picture her staying low, below wooden sides lest her shadow appear on the cloth stretched over the wagon's frame. She probably had his bow, sliding it out of its protective sheath, holding it for comfort as much as for protection. If there were any arrows, Gary would be thinking of ways she might get it to him. Alas, making more had been on the agenda for that evening's campfire. For not the first time, his confidence had been his undoing.
"There's easier money to be had," he half shouted, shifting his stance in the mud. "I suggest you look elsewhere and let us be." The three before him were silent. Not good. There were no threats, no demands they give up their gold or food. These men were not afraid of a fight, nor did they want witnesses. They were probably also desperate, to be out in this weather when travelers would be few. The storm had come up early enough most sane people would have returned to town or their camp, if they had even broken it yet. He would have as well, preferring to hunker down in that hollow one more night, but Polly had begun to feel queazy. She needed something, even if just the mildest of herbs to ease her worry. Tonight had to be spent in the next village.
"Dad..."
Sam's voice had the first hint of worry from the girl. Some unspoken sign had passed through the bandits. The three before him, most likely mirroring those on the other side, began to slowly step closer. Their drenched faces were set in expressions he had seen far too often in this life. There would be no quarter given. He adjusted his stance again. He'd have to wound them, then jump to his daughter's aid...
A blurry white shape came out of the forest beyond the thieves. Gary tried not to react, not sure whether this was friend or foe, but hoping friend. Another shape, dark, seemed to be hanging back at the tree line. Hoping to keep them distracted, he yelled.
"Hold them, Sam. I'll be over once I've dispatched these three."
"No hurry..."
His love for her in that moment knew no bounds. She would calmly face death, to protect her older sister. No more could he have asked even of a son.
Out of the rain came a naked, blond, white skinned boy, eyes wide with rage. He held a thick, three foot long stick in his hands, raised over his head. With a silent yell, he smashed it into the head of the middle bandit, catching the left most one on the rebound. Gary leapt forward, sword slashing at the surprised remaining man. It cut through his sword arm, the cry of pain echoing in the rain. Whirling, hoping to God the boy could hold his own, he leapt up onto the wagon seat. Sam was backed up against the wagon, sword held out before her. As he took a step down the bench she lunged out at the nearest foe, a well timed strike that had the man stumbling back. Her left side was open, though. With a yell, Gary jumped down on the thief about to strike her down.
****
None of Jack's childhood tumbles had been to the death, but he knew what to do with a dagger as much as the next human. As the raggedly dressed ruffian staggered before him, Jack snaked his hand out and pulled the weapon from the man's belt. Stepping forward, he grabbed his shoulder with his left, reached around, and slit his throat. Letting go, he leapt on the back of the first man he had attacked, who now was on all fours and clearly out of it. Various bits of sharp metal on the man's body dug into his flesh, but Jack ignored them as he drew his short blade across a second unshaven throat. As the body fell to the mud, he jumped back, head swinging around.
The last remaining man was on his knees, holding a bleeding arm. His long sword lay in the mud, half buried. The two men's eyes met. Jack... did not want to kill this one. It was one thing to protect strangers, even if there was no clear indication the strangers deserved rescue, still another to kill a man out of the fight. Or so he told himself. Jack planned on sleeping well that night, morally questionable actions be damned.
Plus, his wrists were hurting.
"Run or die."
Wendy's voice came from behind him. The thief's eyes widened, but Jack didn't give himself the luxury of looking away. The man shakily stood, turned, and staggered back the way the wagon had come. Jack watched him go, thankful. Turning, he saw Wendy had picked up a sword. She pointed it at him.
"That was a very stupid thing to do, Jack."
"Yes, and we thank you."
The two turned towards the front of the wagon. Two figures, swords in hand, walked around the pair of horses who had calmly waited throughout the crisis. They were dressed, not in finery, but in the well kept clothing of those who saw some money come their way. The man was tall, easily six foot, with a build that seemed mostly lean muscle. His short hair was black, framing a face that was at once serious yet not unfamiliar to a smile. Beside him, a youth with similar hair regarded Jack with awe. The teen looked younger than him, although probably not by much. His first guess was it was the man's son, but something about the face made him wonder if in fact it was a girl. If so, the comparison between her and Wendy was striking. This one was slim, with the same walk as the man. There was no mistaking the family resemblance.
Jack stood his ground as the two approached, dagger held loosely in his hand. Wendy came beside him, her drenched naked body, like his, covered with goosebumps. She put the sword point first into the mud, leaning forward on the handle.
"Don't thank me. My friend here is much too nice to strangers." The pair stopped three sword lengths away. The man sheathed his weapon, the teen pausing a moment before doing the same. The man took a moment to wipe the rain from his face, a futile gesture.
"I'll thank both of you, if you don't mind. My name's Gary. This is my youngest, Sam." Jack nodded at the two, his suspicion that it was a girl confirmed. There was no reason not to call her 'son' otherwise. "They approached us as our wheels got stuck in the mud. Pure stupidity on our part."
"Stupidity makes the world go round." Wendy paused, flicking her eyes over to Jack, who nodded. She sighed. "I'm Wendy, this is Jack. He's mute, or he could have given me better warning of what he was planning. We..." she gestured down at her nudity "... have had a bad day, all around. I don't even know where we are."
The man's eyes narrowed.
"Magic?"
She nodded.
Jack frowned. This was taking too long. Handing the knife to a surprised Wendy, he stepped forward a few feet, raised his hands, and slowly turned. Coming back around, his eyes met Gary's. The man nodded.
"No mark, I see. How about you, girl?" He looked past Jack towards Wendy. Jack had no idea if she had a witches mark or not. It mattered not to him, and he wanted to get everything in the open with these people. The two of them needed their help, and honesty was the best place to start. Jack's attention was drawn to the younger daughter. Her eyes seemed to be drinking him in, although they kept coming back to between his legs. Amusement coming to the fore, he flexed his cold-shrunken cock. The movement shocked her out of her trance, head dropping in embarrassment.
"I have one mark," Wendy's voice came to him, "but my training is nowhere near getting a second. We are escaped from my Mistress, whisked away... goddess knows how far, to here."
****
Gary regarded the well built girl. She was telling the truth, so far as that went. If she was going to lie, no mark would be mentioned, and truth be told he had no idea what a real magical mark might look like. His dealings with magic users had been at a distance, his arrow finding its target in men and women who died just as easily as anyone else. That fact was a comfort to him, making his choice here somewhat less risky. But only somewhat.
"You're in central Valnia, a few days travel from the city state of Val." He saw the girl absorb the information, then shake her head.
"Never heard of it, which is a good sign. Not that I was taught much regarding what cities were where." There was a flash of light, the rain gaining in strength. She looked up as thunder punctuated the moment. "Umm..."
"Sam, get those two cloaks out of the back." Gary put a hand on his daughter's back, giving her a slight push. She burst into a run, almost tripping in her haste, but a quick hand shooting out to grab part of the brown mare's harness kept her up without losing a step. He smiled, an expression he kept a moment longer when he noticed the teen Jack also smiling at the girl. "Now, I can't offer you much, not even shoes, but if you don't mind walking barefoot for another couple hours you can accompany us to the next town, were we can get rooms and some food. We can then talk about settling the debt."
The two strangers exchanged a look. Gary had not settled on which one was the leader yet, and suspected they hadn't either. Jack turned back to him and nodded. Wendy turned and walked over to the fallen thieves.
"Fine. Let's at least loot these morons first."
****
Just because Wendy understood why the stranger wasn't letting them ride in his wagon didn't mean she was happy. The rain had slackened mostly, it was true, and her body under the hooded cloak was on the verge of being non-cold, but she had been walking all day without food. Well... OK, they had found some fruit and nuts, which she had mostly given to Jack. She had started the day with a good breakfast, after all, something he had lacked. She wasn't all that tired yet, either. They had been taking their time in their walk, especially after the rain started. There had been no destination in mind, no idea which direction was best, and no shelter in sight. And this pace, with the mud trying to grab the wheels with every inch traveled, was not much faster. She had nothing to really complain about.
Wendy still mentally bitched.
Conversation had died down after the first mile, neither side really willing to impart too much information. Jack's silence hadn't helped all that much in that regard, which she felt was a good thing. The boy was much too... trusting, helpful. No sense of restraint that she could see. And, naturally, after knowing him for all of most of a day she had his full measure. Wendy had a gift for that, knowing the real person. Not everyone did. She was going to have to watch out for him, at least for a while. No way he was ready for the real world out here.
That caused her to stop, Jack and the wagon continuing on up the road. What did she know of him? How long had he been held captive? What, exactly, had been Witch Quinnia's plan for him? A source of male magic, for sure, but... what else? If anything else. It would be easy to over think this, something else Wendy was good at. She would get distracted by a train of thought, not notice that in the world around her...
...the wagon was now thirty feet ahead.
Letting out a groan that she now had to RUN in the mud, Wendy set out after the wagon. It was a small one, maybe ten feet long, up on four spoked wheels and pulled by two horses. Behind the driver's bench, curved poles held up a canvas tent over the cargo area. A flap covered the back, tied down to keep the rain out.
As she came closer, something... tugged at her attention. Wendy could sense something. Something that had been at the fringes of her mind, but she had ignored. Something... pink? But, pink was...
The wagon's rear flap parted, a face barely visible. The sense of pink became stronger. It was the pink of female magic. Not of a witch, for witches, and their male counterparts wizards, had little to no inherent magic themselves. No.. this was...
There was a pregnant woman in the wagon.
The flap opened more. The girl inside was not much older than Wendy, definitely not yet twenty. Her hair was black, curly, falling to her shoulders, her skin the same light tan as the man and girl up front. Her eyes were brown, almost innocent. She regarded Wendy as a child would, although there was intelligence there to be seen. One delicate hand popped out, motioning Wendy closer. Unsettled, yet curious, Wendy walked a bit faster.
"You are... Wendy? The witch?"
The woman's voice was soft, musical. Not even seeing her body, Wendy could see why she was already pregnant. Her very essence seemed to exude life, sexuality, yet she had the innocence to not understand where that would lead her. This was a woman that would need someone to watch over her... and, her father seemed to have failed. Unless... no, that would be sick.
"I'm not a witch," she told her, a feeling of regret coming to the fore, "and probably, now, never will be."
"But you DO know things? Herbs? Medicine?" The voice was anxious. Wendy nodded.
"I know some things. What works, and what doesn't."
"Good." The flap opened more, revealing the young woman completely. "I'm Polly. We need to talk."
****
"Sorry about that, but... well, you know. Can't be too careful."
Jack nodded in acceptance of Gary's rueful apology. He could half hear Wendy talking to the now revealed second daughter. He tried not to listen in, especially after hearing the word "witch". If they were going to talk about things in that direction, he wanted nothing to do with it. Hell, now that they had made contact with the outside world, he wasn't sure how long he'd want to stick around with Wendy. She wasn't a friend, after all. Not even a companion, and while he did owe her thanks for freeing him... she hadn't been going to before being caught herself. His release had been... accidental, and it wouldn't be good to forget that.
"Polly's a pain anyway. I try to ignore her myself."
Grinning, Jack cocked his eye up at Sam. The girl was sitting up next to her father, currently holding the reigns as the wagon bumped merrily along. Walking next to her like this, her female traits were easier to see. There were breasts, although very slight, hidden under the male work shirt. Her trousers could not quite hide the slight curve of her hips, and the sandaled feet were definitely not male for all they were now covered with mud. Her hands, though, while delicate, were those of a worker. There was nothing pampered about the girl.
He liked that.
Jack felt a dryness in his throat. It amused him, at least for a moment. The air was full of water, yet what he was breathing in wasn't enough to keep him from coughing. Life was a mystery. Reaching up, he lightly tapped Sam's leg. The girl looked down at him, startled and... was there something else there? Jack pantomimed drinking.
"Oh! Of course! Dad, hand me the flask!"
Gary's look at his daughter sent a twinge of loss down Jack's spine. How long had his father been gone? Five years? More? What would Dad think of him now?
"I think, my girl, our friend would prefer water to my personal supply. Not that I begrudge our savior a drink, I'll be buying a few rounds for him tonight, but water is best when you're tired and thirsty."
"Um... right."
Jack thought he heard a blush in that reply. He wouldn't have said no to a real drink, but water probably was the medicine needed just then. There was a moment's fiddling around up there, the confusion of those who had their area set up perfectly for expected activities and now had to do something different. Soon Sam's hand had a wooden cup in it, which she held down towards him. Jack took it, fingers touching hers. He was right about the roughness, the callouses, but the tops of her fingers were soft, and seemingly red hot. She almost jerked her hand away from the contact, eyes shooting back to the horses and the road.
Shaking his head, Jack took a log swig.
Girls.
****
The rain had picked up again in the late afternoon. Twice the wagon hit a muddy rut it couldn't get out of, twice Jack and Wendy helped Gary push it up and onward. They were tired, dirty... yet, really, Jack found himself happy. Everything was so new, fresh. He had never minded hard work, and the ache in his legs was a feeling so familiar it was almost like being home. One glance at an unhappy Wendy, though, told all too well how she felt about all this.
The wagon came up a slight rise in the road, followed it around a bend, then suddenly found itself at the tree line. Gary reigned in the horses.
"No idea what the name of this place is. I'm assuming neither of you have reason NOT to enter a town?"
Jack shook his head, smiling. Wendy just laughed, exhausted relief clear in her voice.
"If I'm wanted someplace, it's not here."
"Nothing wrong with being wanted, in most cases." Wendy's eyes shot up to the man as he clicked the reigns again. Jack started forward as the wagon lurched into motion, the girl pausing a moment before quickly catching up. She read too much into things. Was too... well, something. It was too soon to make too many judgments about her. He hadn't even known her a day, after all.
The forest mud trail gave way to a proper road, raising them up onto a dirt embankment a few feet above the surrounding farmland. The rain, which had slackened a tad as they neared the end of the woodlands, seemed to now be a light drizzle. Jack was almost willing to believe the trees had in fact caused the rain that had tormented them all day. Before them, a long earthen wall stretched across the road. As a small rise gave them a good view of the village, Jack saw the earthwork made a circle around the settlement. Wooden stakes projected outward, and there seemed to be a stake filled moat around the entire place. A wooden gate, now open, gave entrance. Gary looked down at the two walkers.
"We'll get two rooms at an inn, if we're able. Normally, we'd camp outside towns when we're able, but tonight we'll splurge."
"I've slept outside before," Wendy protested, although her voice clearly was in favor of the inn. "I-we can't take charity."
It was times like this that Jack wished he could put in his own opinion. He did catch Sam glancing at him, and rolled his eyes at her. The return grin lit up her face.
"Consider it partial repayment, then," Gary said. "I didn't make you walk so you could sleep in the mud. We'll get rooms, dry off, and have a warm, if maybe not good, meal. We can talk then."
Jack nodded. He liked every part of that plan.
****
The one watchman at the gate, still dry as he huddled in a small alcove of the timber structure, waved them through with little more than a passing glance. Gary wasn't fooled. They had been observed, and declared harmless, almost as soon as the wagon left the woods. He'd almost driven past when a pang of duty hit. He reigned in the horses, looking back at the guard who suddenly was much more attentive.
"Ho, Guardsman. We were hit by bandits three hours back, although in that mud I can't give you a distance."
"That so?" The guard left his shelter, small dark splotches randomly appearing on his dry leather armor as he walked up to the wagon. He held a man length spear, perfect for use against any animal approaching the gate. His other hand hovered near the pommel of a sword hanging from his belt, as his eyes gave the travelers a closer look. "Don't seem to have harmed you much."
"We managed to harm them, mostly through trickery, along with some skill. My walking friend there was taking a piss, and managed to get behind them. You'll find five bodies. One ran off back towards... whatever that last town was called."
"Not sure they ever bothered to name it." The guard leaned his spear against the wagon, pulled out some rumpled papers, and leaned forward to use the wagon as a writing table. A small nub of a pencil appeared in his hand. "Five dead... they attacked nude with no possessions, I assume. Most bandits do, it seems, as that's how we find them. Any identifying marks on the remaining one?"
"His right arm is now rather useless," Sam said, proudly. The guard grinned. He grinned wider as a few coins mysteriously appeared on the ground near his feet.
"Good to know, boy." The now damp wad of paper vanished again into his armor. "There's an inn just up ahead. Good food, unmarried barmaid."
"Many thanks." Gary shook the reigns as the guard stepped back, remembering to grab his spear just as the wagon moved away. As always, when entering a new place, Gary's eyes flicked around to take in the important, potentially life saving, details. There were two exits to the village, assuming one didn't climb the earthen walls, with the straight main road running between them. Side streets, although alleys or paths might be a better name, branched off, allowing access to most of the two or three dozen structures enclosed in the town. The buildings were wood frame, mostly one story, with a mix of wood and mud brick walls. Simple, clean, and easy to repair. Few people were out, the dinner hour having hit, but with the rain finally ending there would probably be some activity later.
At the central town square, actually a circle in this case, the road flowed around a stone well before going on to the far gate and the out to the wider world. Stone was actually laid down, making for a mud free gathering area, and it looked like the villagers were in the process of paving the rest of the town as well. Well, whatever made them happy. If they had the time, good for them.
The tavern was a large two story structure, with an attached stable. As he drove up, a young boy ran out. He was maybe ten, black hair cut almost down to nothing, and seemed very happy to finally have something to do that probably didn't involve hard labor. With a groan, body protesting as muscles stretched during the fight had stiffened in the last few hours, Gary dropped to the ground as the boy came up to him. Samantha dropped down much more nimbly beside him, and he heard the two strangers helping Polly out of the back.
"Need a room? Horses stabled? Good prices!"
"Yes, yes, and they'd better be." Gary chuckled as a confused look greeted him. "Sorry. We need two rooms, two beds or cots each, dinner, and baths." A girl ran up, twin to the boy but with hair down to her waist. He passed the request on to her, sending the girl running back inside. Turning, Gary saw his two daughters holding large bags, eager to get to the room. "Polly, did you fix something for our friends?"
"Right here." The older teen held up rolled up clothing. Gary nodded.
"Good. Wendy, take that with our thanks. We'll see about buying you two something that fits tomorrow, but for now this will have to do. I assume you two don't mind sharing a room?" He was not actually assuming much about them. They did not SEEM to be a couple, but given how they had been, modesty was certainly no factor. Wendy seemed to blush a bit.
"Room, yes, bed, no."
"Don't want details. OK, ladies, Jack. Let's get dry."
****
The door to the room had barely closed when Samantha's shirt hit the wooden floor with a wet plop. Her denim trousers and cotton underpants dropped around her feet a moment later, the thick rope belt making more a thump than a plop. With a loud sigh, the nude teen jumped face down onto the bed.
"Hey! You're getting it wet! Get off!"
Sam ignored her sister for a moment. The thick blanket fest so dry, so warm... so not the pouring rain...
"It's your fault you're wet! You could have worn a cloak! God!" A hand gripped her thin arm. It pulled. Knowing Polly's strength, especially when it came to putting Sam in her place, she gave up and let herself be dragged off the bed. Polly stood before her, still dressed in her mostly dry frock, face disgusted. "You're sleeping on that side."
"I know." Sam just stood there, nude body unashamed. She wasn't her sister. Polly was all breasts, and curves. It was more than the difference of three years. Sam sometimes wondered if her preferences had kept her body from developing, if her desire to be like Dad had kept her breasts small, her hips mostly straight. If she "blossomed" like Polly had done... yuck.
"It's so nice you two get along now." A few larger wet plopping sounds drew both girl's heads around to see their father step out of the last of his clothing. Cloth duffle bag open on the second bed, he casually toweled himself off then drew out a dry pair of denim pants. Sam took in the most important man in the world. Tall. Strong. Heroic. Her father was everything she ever wanted to be. Pulling a white shirt over his head, her father cocked his head at her. "Going to go out and meet our guests like that, Sam?"
"She would, too," Polly smirked. Sam shot her a dirty look.
"I'm not the one who couldn't keep her dress on."
The words were barely out of her mouth before she regretted them. Sam practically jumped back, bare feet almost tripping on her discarded clothing. Polly was going to slap her. SHOULD slap her! Sam had no right to...
Her wide eyes met her sister's. There was no anger there. Just... sorrow. Sam swallowed hard.
"I'm sorry, Polly. I didn't mean it..."
"Yes you did, and you're right. It's my fault. My fault we're here..."
But it WASN'T her fault! WASN'T! With another leap, Sam threw her nude body at Polly, thin arms wrapping tight around her. Her head buried itself in her sister's breasts, tears coming. She tried to speak, to tell her, but Sam was sobbing, her mouth full of cloth dress. The facade she'd kept up since the attack that afternoon, since they'd fled the city... since Dad had...
A large, rough, warm, comforting hand pressed against Samantha's bare back. It stroked her soft skin for a moment, then ran up onto her head and through her hair as if she was a pet. She felt more than saw their father doing the same with Polly, bringing the two of them against his strong body. He was her rock. THEIR rock. Her father sighed.
"If anyone is to blame, it's me. I..."
"You did what you thought was right."
Sam pulled back, looking up at Polly. Her eyes were sad. Thinking of the baby's father, most likely. What he had done to Polly... Dad was fully justified in killing him, no matter what the law thought. Did Polly finally see that? Did she finally understand Dad did what he did because he loved her?
From the weak smile she gave Sam, it didn't seem likely. Suddenly feeling tired, Sam stepped away from what was left of her family.
"Let me get dressed. I'm hungry."
****
Jack did not so much eat the stew served to the five travelers, a thick mixture with a pleasant amount of rabbit and deer among the potatoes and vegetables, as inhale it. Three bowls worth flowed into him in the time it took Wendy to eat one. She did go for seconds, though, as did the others. Even small Sam was stuffing it in. As Jack leaned back in the solid wooden chair, legs outstretched under the long table, he found his eyes slipping off the other, more mature girls and going back to her. She was... well, nice to look at.
"Need another ale, do you gentlemen?"
Jack looked up at the serving wench next to him. She did not have nearly the bust of Wendy, but much more of it was on display at the moment thanks to Wendy's new shirt (which was, though, very tight on the girl). Her smile was also much friendlier, and seemed to suggest other things. This aspect grew as her gaze turned to Gary. She seemed to lean forward a bit more than necessary to take his mug. The man just gave her a friendly grin.
"One more round for us men here, if you don't mind, and more cider for the ladies. We'd then like some privacy."
"If you'd like some privacy with me later, my room is down the hall from yours at the end." The glares of the girls didn't seem to register as she walked off, hips swinging. Gary just shook his head, laughing.
"Not tonight, I think."
"Oh," Polly told him, voice sounding dangerous, "don't stop on our account."
"I normally wouldn't, oh daughter of mine. It would be rude to our guests, though, even apart from my not being in the mood."
"Don't let me stop you." Wendy's voice was definitely embarrassed. Jack ignored her. It was time he decided what came next, and most likely it wouldn't involve her. He wanted to get away from anything to do with magic. A few minutes later fresh drinks were placed on their corner table, the barmaid a little less friendly. The rest of the tavern was quiet, the locals having gotten their drinking out of the way early during the storm. Only a few tables were occupied, although things might pick up as the night went on. After taking a sip, determining this mug wasn't all that better than the previous one for all the buzz it was starting to give him, he put it down and leaned forward. Gary caught his eye, nodding.
"I agree. It's time we talked."
That got all the girl's attention. Wendy leaned forward as well, looking across the table at Gary. He smiled at her.
"First, again, thank you for today. It's not often beautiful women come running to my rescue." Jack saw Sam about to interrupt and correct her father, but she stopped at the slight shake of Jack's head. The man was flattering Wendy for a reason, and far be it from Jack to have it interrupted. Wendy, though, was caught speechless, her dark face gaining a reddish hue. Still smiling, Gary looked at Jack. "And thank you as well. We owe you, if not our lives, at the very least our uninjured state."
Jack nodded. The man probably could have held his own. His daughters, though...
"Those clothes, naturally, are yours. Tomorrow morning, as soon as the markets open, I'll supply both of you for whatever you wish to do next. We are not THAT well off, but it's the least we can do."
"Dad," Polly interrupted, "Wendy said she knew herbs, and would help me find what I need in the market." Gary nodded.
"We'll have time for that, too. There's no place we have to be any hurry to get to."
"Can't they come with us?" Sam put a hand on her father's arm. Her eyes flicked over to Jack, returning quickly to Gary. Jack had no idea how to interpret that. Gary looked at Wendy.
"Where are you two headed?"
Jack turned to Wendy. Her eyes didn't meet his, instead focusing on Gary. What was going on in that red haired skull of hers? He wasn't sure he trusted the witch as it was. This wasn't helping.
"We... well, I have no real plans. Survive, get my bearings." She shrugged. "Find work."
Well, Jack could agree with that. He looked at the others and nodded. Sam's eyes seemed to glow with excitement.
"See, Dad? Five would be better than three anyway, right? We wouldn't have to leave Polly alone while we hunted. Jack could hunt WITH us!"
The quick glance the man gave his daughter seemed full of amusement and... sorrow? Resignation? Polly reached a hand out and placed it on Sam's arm, as if to reign her in from some unwise act. With a chuckling sigh, Gary looked across the table at Jack and Wendy.
"Well, we're just continuing along the main road for now. If you decide to travel that way, you're more than welcome to accompany us for as long as you need to, or at least until you've annoyed me."
"You haven't sent us away, yet," Sam interrupted. Her father reached up and patted her head.
"And keep that in mind."
****
Wendy watched as Jack arranged the blankets on the wooden floor. She sat on the bed, still clothed in the man's spare pants and shirt, legs crossed. It was a small bed, fit for two people only if they were a couple, or siblings used to cuddling for warmth and comfort. That Jack had immediately indicated he would sleep on the floor... well, she wasn't sure how to take that. She wasn't interested in sex with him- Goddess, no! She was still intact, and wasn't going to change that for some stranger. An image of Gary flashed before her. Now, if she was rooming with HIM...
She shook her head. No. Not now. She wasn't that type. Wasn't like that barmaid whore. Not that she was some kind of prude. You can't do magic, with its use of males and females, and have restraints of any kind when it came to the human body. But, there was a time and a place, and now wasn't it.
Her mind went back to that morning. Her Mistress had captured, or bought, Jack for a reason. Had him tied up on that table, had... done things to him? What? And that spell Wendy had seen in her mind when she touched him. She was now sure she had NEVER seen that spell before. It was much too powerful, requiring human male magic and not the small animals she had been forced to practice on. Even now, not even a day later, the gestures she had used were gone from her mind.
"Jack."
He looked up at her. He was so... well, beautiful, more than handsome. Not innocent, although to look at him one would never suspect the savagery that slit two throats mere hours before. His white skin almost glowed. Day, to her night.
"Jack. I... I need to know something. Need to know if the witch did something to you. May I... examine you? Please?"
His blue eyes regarded her with suspicion.
"Please, Jack. We need, you need, to know now. I won't hurt you."
Slowly, he rose. She smiled uncertainly.
"I need you naked, as you were when I found you." She pushed herself back on the bed. "Sit in front of me." Trust nowhere to be seen in his face, in a few moments he was climbing onto the bed. His maleness was soft, almost blending in with the light patch of blond hair surrounding it. He arranged himself before her, legs crossed, hands on his knees. Wendy smiled nervously.
"I have to touch you."
She reached out her right hand. His eyes stayed on hers. Wendy's hand paused an inch from his cock. She had never done this with a boy. There were... well, there were rumors of what it meant. But, she had touched his already hard member that morning. This would be no different.
Her forefinger touched the head and traced the rune.
"Rosnac."
Jack's entire body stiffened. His maleness almost seemed to explode, becoming a thick pole instantly. It was longer than her hand, the mushroomed end almost seeming to pulse red. One of her dark brown hands went to the two sacks hanging under it, the other lightly grabbed the shaft. Now. Now, she would know...
Her mind exploded with blueness. The magic overwhelmed her, a waterfall of male power and energy flowing over and around her. Wendy pushed back, her mind trying to find purchase. Words and symbols flowed by her. With great effort, she forced one set to stop. Sweating, she moved the signs in front of her eyes.
A spell.
There, floating before her mind, glowing in the blue of male magic, was a spell.
In her surprise, her concentration waned, the words and signs moving past her. Another set took their place. Then another.
A spell book.
Jack was... a spell book.
"Oh, Goddess, Mistress of all who follow the path..." The witch Quinnia had poured all her knowledge into this boy. Had emptied all her tomes of magic into him. He was a power AND spell source!
Wendy let the spells flow past her, untrained mind trying to comprehend what this was. There were spells to kill, spells to heal, spells to travel, spells to bind. They all had dangers, consequences, but... the power! The power she now had before her! What she could do with this!
The final spell in the sequence appeared before her eyes. In a whisper, she spoke the description.
"This will bind the book to a user. Forever will they be bound, unusable by any other till death."
She could make the magic hers. Could... own all this. Keep it away from Quinnia, from any other witch or warlock. It would be HERS!
Wendy didn't even think. She raised her left hand, drawing three runes in the air. Her right squeezed Jack's cock.
"Powiazac."
White semen shot up, filled with millions of glowing light blue sperm. It split into two streams, twisting around and around each other like a braid. Wendy's eyes were wide with awe as she jerked her hands away. Never had she seen so much! As it reached the height of their heads, the streams split, one heading for her, the other wrapping itself around Jack. The last drop exited his body, the two glowing ropes now free to work their magic. The strand around Jack split again, half going down to wrap tightly around his still hard cock with the rest spinning around his head. They seemed to spin... INSIDE him, vanishing. The remaining strand, after circling Wendy's head, almost caressing it with its burning heat, shot towards her right palm. It hit with the force of a knife. She almost screamed, but resisted. The pain...
The pain vanished in the same instant Jack regained his mind. In a flash, he was off the bed, eyes wide with fear. Backing away from her, his bare back pressed against the rough wooden wall.
Wendy's eyes ignored him. On her right palm, a small blue tattoo now marked her.
She owned him.