Date: Thu, 21 Nov 2013 18:16:12 +0000
From: Michael Offutt <kavrik@hotmail.com>
Subject: Chapter 24 of Black Dragon Rising - Gay Science Fiction

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                                    *****

                            Chapter Twenty-Four


      "I know this area very well," Cory says. "I'll find us a way down off
this mountain. We've no time to lose." As if to emphasize the importance of
what he's saying, he grabs the back of my arm.  "The kuanni will be on top
of us at any moment; you need to trust me."

      Before I can consider our options, Angelaria emerges from the lean-to
slipping her right foot into her soft shoes. "Kian, for once stop
arguing. Don't even pretend that your objections are out of concern for
me. You're worried about your prisoner."

      My eyes go to Talisac. Caught again I suppose.

      "Worried for me?" Talisac asks, mildly straining against his
bonds. "How cute. Some might say we're in love."

      "Hardly," I scoff. I untie him from the ropes and shove him forward
with the ball of my foot. "Make sure you don't twist an ankle or we'll
leave you behind."

      He makes to blow a kiss in my direction; then laughs.

      Angelaria's eyes narrow but she doesn't say anything. I can tell she
wants to though.  Probably something akin to, "We'll see about that."

      "It's settled then," Correldon states. Before I can say lickety-split
he's prodding Pink Hair awake with his foot. Honestly, how on earth that
gnome could sleep through our voices, Cory shooting the Ekthor by the
river, and the horn blast from the approaching kuanni is beyond me.  I go
to gather my things; when I return Angelaria regards me carefully, both
hands on her hips. It's a pose women assume when they're disgusted with
their men.

      "For your information, I WAS thinking of you."

      "Really? Have I given you pause in my ability to walk downhill? Don't
be absurd; I'm not made of eggshells. It'll be light soon. In the meantime,
we've an elven guide...and...we've got you."  This last bit takes me by
surprise. She steps forward and puts her arms about my neck; my cheeks
flush hot. "Yes, I said it. You...a warrior assassin trained to the highest
caliber." She trails a single finger down between the molded pecs of my
armored breastplate. "A man that can see in the dark using the visor of a
divinely-forged suit and with an athleticism that defies human
explanation." She pauses to kiss me on the lips. "I'm not worried at all,
and YOU should have more faith in your powers."

      "Powers?"

      "You have something within you," she whispers. "Something strong and
primal. It wants to be let out, but you keep it restrained. The whole world
trembles when you unleash this thing that you try so hard to keep in
check. How long did it take you to build such comfortable walls out of the
bricks of insecurity?" Angelaria bites my lip, drawing a drop of blood. "Do
us all a favor and unleash the beast inside you."

      I blink and suck some of the blood into my own mouth.

      Talen crouches, stifling a bit of a smirk. "Unleash the beast? Ha!
Like he needs to be TOLD to do that."

      I shake my head. "Oh, shut up."

      He punches me in the leg playfully; then raises his left hand to his
neck. "Damned rocks. I'll be glad once we get to a city with an inn. I'm
going to relish a good bed. That...and taking a real bath."

      "Well spoken," I say, clapping him on the shoulder.

      The four of us set out within the hour and the world remains as black
as coal. The moon is all but gone below the horizon leaving only a dim glow
as a reminder of its passing. I keep the river bubbling on my right and
move forward, eyeing everyone and the trees around us through the aid of my
night vision. Thus far, we're alone. Let's hope it stays that way.

      I point out changes in elevation, roots, and unsafe footing for the
others while Talen takes the rear of the column, blades on his killsuit
fully extended from his forearm. I begin to grow more relaxed with time as
we descend the slope of the mountain.

      At first break, the others rest while I take watch crouched on a huge
boulder overlooking the path. Talen passes out some cheeses, bread, and a
bit of the meat from two nights before. Talisac signals to me that I'm only
to drink water. I do so surreptitiously. These last few days have left me
feeling clean and vibrant. Maybe a bit of a fast was in order, because I
feel more awake and alive than I've felt in quite some time.

      The East turns a pale rose then blends with shades of blue and the
stars vanish one by one as the first of Wynwrayth's suns mount the
saddleback between the peaks, throwing golden sunshine down the slope from
whence we came. The Firehole River bubbles and churns over rocks; I
scramble down and Talisac grabs me by the wrist when the others aren't
looking. He finishes swallowing a roll with some cheese stuffed in the
loaves and then whispers, "tonight when we're alone, I'll check to see if
the worm is descending. We'll need to have privacy. Make sure you arrange
for that."

      I nod and say nothing.

      Our camp gets up to move. Like a gentleman, I pick up Angelaria's
pack and shoulder it with my own. It looks like she's about to protest, but
then decides against it. "Thank you," she says.

      "You're welcome."

      We walk, and my eyes follow a deer in the meadow. It's far out from
us and grazing in waist- high grass.

      An hour after first sunrise, my suit's filled with sweat. It's
dripping from the joints on my gauntlets and soaking through every kink in
my armor. I call a stop over the rushing noise my pounding heart makes in
my head. Talen isn't nearly as drenched as I because he's got his visor up
and is using the cooling feature built into the sealed armor. I'm not
because Talisac forbids me to do so. When the others aren't looking, I
raise my visor and wipe my face with a rag. By the time I'm done, it's
damp...that's how sweaty I am. Then with his permission, I drink some more
water and close the visor.

      "You all right?" Talen asks.

      Before he can see my face, I close the visor. "Yep."

      He grins, "It's a hot day. Let me know if you want me to carry that."

      "I can handle it," I tell him. Then I pick up her pack again. Damn
thing's so heavy; I wonder what she's got packed away in it.

      "Go and fill this," Angelaria says pushing a water bottle toward me.

      Begrudgingly I take it, but she does flash me a smile. I guess that
makes it worth it. So pack and all, I make my way down to the bank with the
bottle.

      That's when I see the kuanni for the first time. Across the Firehole
River, five men appear from out of the reeds. They're taller than me, with
bands of red and black paint running the length of their hides. Each holds
a bow in his hand, is clothed in dark green mail that's interlaced with
plates of wrought black metal., and wears a pair of boots made from fine
black suede.

      Fuck.

      I drop to my haunches, settling into the grass, and hoping they don't
see me. Then a large thing rises up behind them. And when I say large, I
mean humongous. Its shoulders are too far apart to be a giant, and its skin
is a glossy crimson color. Gods...I increase the magnification on this
monster, and unless my eyes are deceiving me the thing is thirteen feet
from the bottom of its ankles to the horns on its head! As if I had any
doubt, it reaches up with one hand and rests its weight propped against the
upper trunk of a towering aspen tree.

      To make matters worse, this "giant" ripples with muscle; metal bands
as thick as my waist circle its massive biceps. They look to be made from
black metal, drilled on three sides by shiny polished studs. Its face is
dominated by a flat nose, pierced through with an impressive brass ring; it
has an overly large mouth not lacking for a double row of sharp teeth. From
the top of its skull sweeps long elegant black hair drawn into a braid and
knotted with jewels. It hangs to about the middle of his back and is
finished off by a piece of jewelry fashioned from a human thigh bone.
Around its neck depends three human skulls pierced through by a tanned
leather strap.

      One of the kuanni raises his bow and quickly notches an arrow.

      Dammit.

      I hear the twang of the string, and it soars over the river. I watch
it through the visor, gauge its flight path, and dodge to one side. I snap
my free hand about and seize it from the air. My speed and dexterity are
stunning. Then I break it into pieces.

      This gives them pause.

      Before they can react, I duck into the reeds and return to the
others.

      "Kuanni!" I shout through my helmet; my voice is metallic.

      "Where? At the river?" Correldon asks.

      "On the other side actually. Five of them...and one giant red
monster."

      Cory scratches his chin.

      "It's an ogre," Talisac says, clutching his belly. I stare for a
moment at the slight bulge he keeps hidden behind his jacket.

      "An ogre? Interesting," Cory says. "I sure hope that what you said
about your fighting skill is true."

      "I'm the best fighter in the world," I state with as much male
bravado as I can muster. Even if it's a lie, it sure sounds good.

      Talen rolls his eyes.

      "You could use a dose of modesty. But now's not the time," Cory says.

      "Let's split up," Angelaria says. "We stand a better chance that way
than fighting in a group.  Let's see if we can give them the illusion that
there are more of us."

      "I'll stay with the girl," Pink Hair declares.

      "Uh," Angelaria stares at the gnome, "I need you to stay behind and
guard the camp."

      "Excellent," I tell the gnome, ignoring everything she's said. "Stay
with her. If you get attacked, call out for help...understood?"

      Angelaria's lips take a decided downturn.

      "I'll do more than that," Pink Hair says. "I think you'll know if we
get attacked." Then he pops his knuckles. "Trust me lady, you want THIS
powerful wizard on your side."

      Angelaria grabs my arm before I go. "I'll pay you back for this," she
whispers to me.

      With no time to waste, I take to the woods. Within a few seconds, I'm
back at the river bank, only this time I make sure to stay hidden. I tuck
and roll under a bunch of branches and crouch covered in fresh brown
mud. That's when I spot the ogre wading in the shallows of the far side. I
move a bit upstream to get into a better position when, to my amazement, he
spreads his arms and flies across. When he lands, his heavy boots sink into
the bank only a few feet north of my spot. The other kuanni cross by foot
where the water is shallow further downstream.

      One of Correldon's arrows takes to the air and sails elegantly across
the face of the three suns. It explodes in flame right above the kuanni,
and the concussion quakes the earth and the sky.  All eyes turn south;
three of the kuanni make it to safety. The other two stand frozen in place
at midstream, shielding their eyes for just a moment. A second later, their
bodies break apart as ash and collapse into the water. Steam leaps up and
forms a cloud that moves over an entire acre of land like a miniature
roving fog bank.

      The survivors take to the grass and steam clouds and disappear. But I
can still see them in my heat vision on the inside of my visor.

      As swift as a lightning bolt across the sky, I lift my body up and
jump onto an ancient log overgrown in moss. I duck under another fallen
trunk strewn with squirrel droppings and mushrooms, at one point even
pressing my visor to the mud. The ogre, sensing something, approaches my
position cautiously, scowling and looking everywhere. He mutters something
in an ancient language.

      "Kian that's a spell!" Talen says inside my helmet.

      Fuck.

      A sword appears in the ogre's hand; red flames curl upward from the
blade. "Come out!" he roars.

      He walks forward, thrusting reeds and branches out of his way.

      I leap up and feint, placing my toes athletically against a tree
trunk only to propel myself toward the sky. He doesn't even have time to
react before I kick him in the shoulder. My magical boots spring knives on
the bottom, but they fail to cut him any more than chalk cuts glass. He
swats at me with what seem ponderously slow motions; all he finds is empty
air. Undaunted, he swings at me three more times. Each passes through a
spot I occupied only a second before. The last one cleaves the ancient tree
trunk in half. The air around us explodes with the scent of burnt moss and
smoldering wood chunks.

      "Impossible!" the ogre roars. "No one moves this fast."

      I land and roll to my feet like a gymnast. "Gods do the impossible
all the time."

      "Are you a god then, little man?"

      I don't answer. Instead, I kick him four more times. Sure, I may
weigh only eleven stone sopping wet out of a ditch, but my kicks have power
because they're backed by thighs honed to perfection and calves used to
haul heavy rocks for the better part of a year. Needless to say, I knock
the ogre onto his back, and he makes a noise that's similar to something
I'd imagine a falling tree might make.

      Is he finished?

      I spring my wrist blades and cut him across his back in a single
attempt to remove his head.  But even my cibrian-forged knives bounce off
his skin.

      "What the fuck?"

      Laboriously, he rises and laughs. "You're quicker than a cobra,
teenaged boy," the ogre declares. "I'll enjoy breaking your spine with a
single punch to your groin."

      "You'll be the sloppiest kill I've ever had," I reply. "But die you
must. I won't shed any tears for you."

      Had I not been trained to dodge his next attack, he would have killed
me even with the massive protection my armor provides. Here's how it went
down:

      First, dude opens his fist deceptively and lets loose with a blast of
cold that streams out of his palm like shards of icy death. I leap straight
up twenty feet and manage to catch a few low hanging branches of a second
tree. THAT'S how much strength I've got in my legs...well and a little
adrenaline to boot. I pull myself into them and look down. Below me now
rests a path of white crystal and ice that's five feet wide on the near
end. The ogre directs his palm and blazes a strip sixty feet long into the
field of green that lies at my back. I blink twice and in that time
everything touched by the ogre's magic withers and dies.

      "Is that the best you can do?" I ask, but I don't think I've much
courage in my voice when I speak. Honestly, I hope it's the best he can
do. But from the look on his face, I'd say probably not; anyway he looks
furious. Well at least I ruined his day.

      "Please, Tethyr...if I get out of this...I'll donate to your church
every day of my life..." I whisper in prayer. "I may even abstain from sex
for a week." Now that's devotion!

      This ogre who's clearly a sorcerer bellows and swings his left fist
into the trunk of the tree below; to my surprise it crackles. In the next
instant, timbers burst asunder and the thing drops from under me, crashing
down onto the meadow almost too fast for me to jump to safety. I land all
wrong and feel something give; then comes the pain.

      Fuck.

      The shadow of a sword appears in the grass around me and forces me to
leap onto my good foot. I find purchase on a waist-high boulder, nursing my
hurt leg, and watch the blade hit the earth.  Dirt clods pepper my chest; I
wipe mud from my visor just to see clearly.

      "Little rat must die!" He shouts.

      I guess he thinks me dead 'cause he stands there like an oaf looking
at the earth with grim satisfaction. But that doesn't last long: he sees me
standing ten feet to his left. Haughtily, he throws back his silky hair and
says, "Whatever gods you worship favor you today."

      "God has nothing to do with it," I mutter. Then I grab my
codpiece. "Real men expect nothing from the universe but make their own
destiny."

      The ogre magus charges me, and I do a back leap but execute poorly
and fall prone on my back. Almost at once he's there, swinging with sword
and fist. Before his weapon arrives, I kick him twice in the jaw, then roll
to either side of his attacks to avoid getting hurt. The earth erupts in
flying clods, mud, bits of weed and chunks of wood, and steam from puddles
he slashes with his burning blade. I kick and punch, but nothing is wearing
him down at all. One of my punches lands so hard that I could have busted a
rock open, but it does nothing but turn his face to one side. I'm so glad
my killsuit gauntlets protect my hands. They'd be shattered into a million
pieces by now.

      But Tethyr's teeth I'm in trouble.

      After a minute of dodging his attacks while prone, he lands a
fist. It actually cracks my visor and makes my head spin. Then he follows
with a kick and I soar into the river a full fifteen feet away. Water
rushes over my face and floods into my suit. Choking, I pop the visor and
push myself to my feet, wrist blades moving in and out uncontrollably on
the arm sheath.

      Dammit! He's shorted out the controls.

      I grab hold of the grass at the bank and manage to stand.

      "Talen," I croak into my helmet. "I could use a little help...."

      My boyfriend disengages from one of the kuanni and appears, armor
dripping blood. A moment later, that kuanni drops dead into the
muck. Talen's been busy. The ogre magus hefts his sword oblivious to
Talen. It's a mistake I'm sure he'll regret.

      Talen's runs and jumps; his momentum carries him through the air
about fourteen feet.  When he lands, it's in front of me, and he breaks the
huge man's angry charge. The brute skids to a stop, sweeps his sword left,
but Talen parries him with cibrian blades. When the two weapons clash, to
my surprise the fiery ensorcelled blade cleaves through Talen's and then
sunders through his armor.

      "Talen!" I scream.

      Fortunately he seems unfazed, even when a portion of his killsuit
drops away. That's a little shocking, and it takes me a moment to realize
exactly what's going on. There in the gaps and shattered pieces of his
breastplate is the strange undergarment that Talen found long ago in the
keep. It shimmers in the same way that our boots gleam and looks purple in
the morning sunlight.

      As mystified as I, the ogre mage punches Talen; a deafening
thunderclap follows. To my surprise, the ogre howls in pain, gripping his
hand, and glaring at Talen painfully. Meanwhile, my boyfriend just stands
there like a wall with his arms folded calmly across his chest.

      "How is this possible?!" the red monster bellows.

      How indeed? I think to myself. I know I should have grabbed for that
shirt! Talen always finds the best things.

      Correldon appears, a glowing black arrow notched on his bow. "Stop!"
he commands of the monster. "Know that this is a heart-seeker," the
silver-haired elf says. "It'll pierce the magical protection you've placed
on your skin and kill you instantly."

      The ogre freezes in place, albeit still nursing his broken hand.

      "Your kuanni allies are dead.  You'll soon be joining them if you
don't flee."

      "Flee? I, Havrok, do NOT flee!"

      "Then you choose to die," Correldon spits. "I don't miss with this
weapon. And by the corpses of your fellow kuanni, I think you know by now
you picked a fight with the wrong people."

      The ogre frowns, turns, and leaps...rather...he flies across the
river. I wish I could do that.  Correldon lowers his bow once the evil
red-skinned monster disappears into the wilderness on the far side of the
Firehole.

      "You should've killed him!" I yell. "Now, he'll come after us."

      "You think so, human?" Correldon asks. "Is that what you would do?
Knowing full well that all of your comrades are now pushing up daisies? I'd
think you'd be wise and realize that a warrior of the Symardiearre is more
than a match for you. That's exactly what I believe is going through
Havrok's mind right now!"

      "Well I don't! I think he's planning on coming after us again. And
then he's going to kill us.  You left a loose end and now we're going to
have to pay for that loose end for the rest of our journey together."

      "Harsh words coming from a teenaged boy," Correldon says with
smugness dripping from his lips. "How many of the kuanni did you kill? Or
maybe you were too busy taking a dip in the river."

      I clench my fist and hobble over to him, favoring one leg. But that
doesn't matter. Even with one leg I can beat this guy.

      Correldon sets down his bow. "This'll be fun," he says. "I'm a master
of koljutsu-pan. I'll gladly instruct you on the way elves deal with riff
raff, and how humans who think themselves superior to the highborn are
properly punished."

      He whirls gracefully, I'll give him that. But I'm no ordinary
human. I step past him quickly, ignoring the pain in my sprained ankle, and
take full advantage of his "dance" to swing at him with my open palm. He
narrowly avoids my punch and grabs a hold of my wrist, attempting to put me
in a standard arm lock. But I know this maneuver. I fall forward and kick
him in the face with the bottom of my muddy boot; no spikes this
time. Correldon lets loose my arm, obviously a little angered.

      "Nice trick," he says.

      He feints and makes a kick at my good leg. I block, pain searing up
through my body. Then I kick his guard aside so I can ram my knee into his
pelvis. He chokes and falls to the earth. I stumble back to let him catch
his breath. His face is flushed. Lightning quick he makes three rabbit
punches all under a second. As fast as that is though, I'm quicker. I block
his blows and return those punches four times over: once in the chest above
the heart, once as an elbow to the face (which breaks his nose), and then
twice to the kidneys. My suit may be non-functional, but my gauntlets hurt
like a son of a bitch.

      Bloody but still unbroken, he rolls away. However, he's much slower
now; less sure of himself. But I'm not. I rush him but this time it's my
turn to feint. He makes an attempt to throw me but his fingers close on air
as I drop to the ground. I lift myself up on one hand and twist my body
into a cyclone kick. Of course, I land it perfectly with one boot striking
his left hip and the other smacking him across the face. Sure, it's
painful, but I'm mostly using upper body strength here. To finish, I tilt
into a pinwheel kick and snap my good foot about in a circle and strike him
so hard that it whips him about 360 degrees and slams him straight into the
river.

      "Stop, Kian!" Talen yells. "You'll kill him."

      I limp over to the edge and fish his body out. There in my arms is
Correldon the mighty highborn elf. He's bleeding from the nose, ears, and
mouth, but he's alive. If I wanted to kill him I could have. His eyes are
so glazed that I don't think he even knows where he is. Talen sloshes into
the river beside me and helps to hoist him onto the bank. Then, we carry
him into camp to lay him sopping wet near the fire pit. I return to grab
his bow and sword; when I get back, Angelaria's there and she doesn't look
happy.

      "You did this to him. Why?"

      "He asked for it," I say. "I got tired of him always coming down on
me like I was some kind of street rat.  This way, he'll know to give Talen
and I some respect."

      "You're a bully, Kian Lightfoot." Then she shoves me with both hands.

      I'm not a fucking bully. But I keep silent. This isn't an argument I
can win.

      "I've never known anyone that could do this," Pink Hair states with a
very sober expression.  He washes the caked blood off Correldon's
face. "I've traveled with the elf for years and in the court of the elves,
he was their best pugilist. I've seen him break bones with a single hit and
cripple men for life.  But you...to do this while lame? I've never seen
such speed and power. If I didn't know better, I'd say you were the devil
incarnate. You terrify me, stranger."

      "He IS the devil," Angelaria says. "Even when he loves you he hurts
you."

      I just roll my eyes. "Calm down."

      "Don't tell me to calm down," she says. "You're dangerous and your
temper is out of control."

      Angelaria falls silent when Correldon opens his eyes. The first thing
he does though is stare at me. The blood rushes his cheeks. Is that shame?
That would've been my first reaction. But I'm not elvish, I don't have some
"larger than life" disposition to overcome. But why wouldn't he be ashamed?
He has every reason to be: sopping wet and muddy with a blood streak
smeared at the base of his shattered nose. Because of me, it'll sit crooked
on his face for the rest of his life. If someone messed up my looks like
that, I'd be fucking pissed.

      Cory swats Pink Hair's hand away as the gnome tries to clean his cuts
with a damp washcloth. Talisac sits quietly, never taking his eyes off
me. When I look in his direction he blows me a kiss. Gods how I want to
punch his face in.

      I settle down on the grass.

      Correldon touches his wounds gingerly. One of his eyes is starting to
blacken. It'll probably swell shut by nightfall. And of course, no one
seems to notice how in pain I am. Even Talen's too busy soothing Angelaria
to notice. Just the same (and maybe to keep the peace somewhat) I try to
apologize.

      "I'm sorry I was so rough on you. It's just that I got upset."

      Cory brushes the silver hair out of his eyes and sighs. Sunlight
plays on the tree limbs above us and showers golden through the
leaves. "I'm at fault. To tell you the truth, I never expected a teenaged
boy to fight so well. You're as ferocious as you are beautiful, with
agility that surpasses our best elven warriors. I think you're the fastest
and most physically stunning human I've ever seen in all my life, and I'm
over three hundred and ninety years old. Were you always this gifted?"

      "Yes."

      "At least you're humble," he says with much sarcasm.

      I swallow my spit, thinking of the experiences one could have in
three hundred and ninety years.  The elves, it seems, are immortal and stay
young physically while most humans deteriorate with age, probably in the
blink of an eye from their perspective.

      "At least share with me how you learned your deadly techniques?"

      I lean my back against an aspen tree and keep my ankle elevated on a
stone; it eases the pain and stiffness that I feel at least for a
moment. But my whole body is sore, so comfort comes in degrees of "what
hurts less?"

      "I studied with a master assassin named Constantine in the city of
Clothol. He taught me for several years. My training included hand-to-hand
combat and weapons expertise. As you've picked up, I've a lot of natural
ability. But on top of that, I'm an apt learner."

      "Ah. Then that explains it. Constantine...that one I've heard
of...the most dangerous nightshade in the world."

      "You mean 'was'," I say. "I killed him in the city of Soulwarden. I'M
the most dangerous nightshade in the world now. I'm part of a new order
called the Black Dragon Assassins. You may have heard of me, but in case
you haven't we're WAY deadlier than nightshades. I'm the Black Dragon
Assassin of the Silver Rose." I don't mention Talen. He gets enough time in
the spotlight.

      "I've never heard of it."

      I snort derisively. "Well you shall. Remember the name 'Hunter.'
It'll mean something someday."

      "So you killed Constantine? Was it a difficult fight?"

      I think back and remembered how Constantine lay trapped under the
rocks and how he'd called to me for aid when I slit his throat. "No," I
say, "Actually not difficult at all."

      Talen looks up from his resting spot with a broad smirk on his
face. I nudge him with the tip of my toe but he doesn't say anything. Some
things are best left unsaid, I think to myself.

                                    *****

I may post Chapter Twenty-Five next week. However, with Thanksgiving break,
I may simply not have enough time. Have a great holiday my friends, and I
hope you're all slavering for the next chapter!