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Wanting Normal

Chapter 52

As much as Pili hated Nkwe, she trusted him more than she trusted Azrian, and that amused Nkwe more than he cared to admit. Azrian offered to heal Pili, and she turned the vixen down, saying that she did not trust a fox she did not know to help her. She then turned her bitter black eyes to Nkwe, and though she looked at him in disgust, she reminded him that it was in his best interest to preserve her life, as they both had a common goal, that goal being Zeinara.

Nkwe was half-inclined to let Pili die and told her so without masking his hatred. If Zeinara was lost now, it was Pili's fault for losing her. As he knelt beside the assassin and healed her wound, he wasted no opportunity to reprimand her, and he did not bother to make the healing painless.

Pili sneered at Nkwe, wheezing and gasping with riding breasts as his magic tingled over her. Nkwe tried to ignore her high breasts and instead focused his gaze on her wound, though he could feel her vicious eyes lancing him like fire. She had never dressed provocatively, but somehow, he'd always felt as if her breasts were in his face. And it infuriated him. Infuriated him and aroused him. Which only infuriated him more.

"I . . . nearly died . . ." Pili panted, ". . . stopping our pursuers . . . from having her. You . . . you are the one to blame." Her lips curled prettily around her fangs as she spoke. "If you . . . hadn't let her escape the castle in the first - wait! W-What . . . mpfh . . . are you doing . . .?" She placed a bloody paw over Nkwe's to stop him.

Nkwe had grabbed Pili's shirt and was prepared to rip it open. He couldn't get at her wound otherwise. With the fabric in the way, he couldn't see what he was doing, and healing her blindly could render his efforts futile. "The shirt has to come off," he said, his face dark. "Believe me, I'd rather it didn't."

Pili scowled.

"I could've saved you both the time and bickering if you'd just let me help," Azrian said. She was standing over them, holding her light above Pili so that Nkwe could see to work.

"I do not . . . trust you . . . creature," Pili panted at Azrian.

Azrian snorted. "As if you trusted Nkwe."

"No," Pili agreed. "I don't trust him either. It's just . . . I trust you less."

"The more you talk," Nkwe said impatiently, "the more blood you lose. There is no time to waste!" He smacked Pili's paw aside, and she muttered in angry protest as he jerked her shirt open, exposing her brassier. Nkwe ignored her breasts and examined her wounds. She had been cut in many places with what was likely a sword, but a shorter blade had stabbed her in the side, right near her ribs. Luckily, whoever had stabbed her had done so in a rush and had thus missed every vital organ. She was lucky. Nkwe smoothed his paw gently over Pili's wound, and as his healing light tingled through her fur, his eyes traveled over high breasts and to her face. He stared into her eyes a moment, and he had to admit . . . Pili was very pretty for a dog.

Pili's eyes were sharp and bright against the kohl smeared around them. It was an eye makeup that females wore in the desert and the only part of Pili's culture she had ever clung to. Nkwe remembered that she insisted on wearing it constantly, even when she was in the middle of a job. He couldn't remember ever seeing her without it.

It took Nkwe a moment to realize Pili was staring back at him just as absently. When she realized she was staring, her thick lashes fluttered and she quickly looked away. Nkwe cleared his throat and dropped his eyes. When her wound was sealed, he hastily backed away, and he hated how Azrian seemed to be holding back a smile.

Pili got to her feet and tied her torn shirt shut over her wound, knotting it up with quick fingers. She avoided looking at either of them.

"There is nothing between us," Nkwe assured Azrian under his breath, growling the words at her, as if he were commanding her to believe them.

Azrian's lips tugged in a small smile and she nodded. "Of course, Nkwe."

Nkwe's body tightened angrily at Azrian's smirking. "There is nothing," he growled again.

"Let's get moving," Azrian said, ignoring Nkwe. "And you can tell us how you came to be here."

"And where Zeinara is," Nkwe added darkly.

Pili nodded, her eyes passing carefully over Azrian. "And I trust you will tell me who you are?"

"She's Azrian," Nkwe said bitterly.

Pili blinked and her eyes widened, and without warning, she startled Azrian by sinking to one knee and bowing her head before her. Nkwe wasn't startled. Pili was one of the many dogs who believed Azrian was Nadheertia and had been sent by the Creator to bring an age of peace, etc, blah, blah, blah. It disgusted Nkwe and he was half tempted to poke Pili's forehead and make her tumble off balance. Azrian looked away awkwardly and asked Pili to get up, but Pili remained on bended knee only a moment before she rose to her feet again.

"Forgive me, most holy!" Pili said to the floor. "I did not realize!"

"Um . . ." Azrian cleared her throat. "It's alright."

"This raises the stakes," Pili said, regarding Azrian with sincere wonder. "Not only must I ensure the survival and return of the princess, but I must also bring King Etienne's great love home to --"

"Yeah, yeah," said Nkwe over Pili, and she glared at him. He turned down the tunnel. "Come on. You can tell us what the hell is going on. Why are you here alone? Where is Zeinara!"

"I managed to secure the princess," Pili said as they walked. "She was in the possession of the McIntyres --"

"Shit!" Nkwe growled. He frowned. "Did they hurt her?"

"I had gotten her away from the estate," Pili went on. "She and a group of other prisoners - including your son," she added, glancing at Azrian, "managed to escape through a portal that was to take them to the Summer --"

"Thank the gods!" Azrian breathed. "Ettoras was safe? He wasn't hurt?"

"He was just fine, most holy," Pili assured Azrian. "He is a polite, well-mannered boy who obeys orders and isn't given to foolish bravado. You have raised him well."

Azrian smiled sadly. "Ettoras has always been my greatest achievement. Who else was with you?"

"Was Mogethis there?" Nkwe asked.

Pili glowered. "No, savage,_your sister was _not with us. No doubt she is off somewhere dancing naked in the moonlight as she sacrifices young Robin to your gods --"

"Shut up about my sister," Nkwe warned in a low voice. "I healed you, but I can undo what I did."

"I would expect no less from a savage," Pili said darkly.

Nkwe opened his mouth to argue, but Azrian said over him, "Please, Pili - who else was with my son?"

"Two foxes," Pili went on, "who called themselves Guides or some foolishness. They were heathens who put the princess in danger. They insisted on sending her into Canderly in some attempt to procure magic fox weapons or some nonsense --"

"The dagger," Nkwe said grimly. "Did they succeed?"

"Yes," Pili answered irritably. "I said they managed to escape, didn't I?"

"Who else?" Azrian pressed. "Who else was with my son?"

Pili looked at Azrian curiously but answered, "A young white vixen with a long, ridiculous name. Yeen . . . Yin . . . something."

Nkwe's ear pricked forward. It couldn't be. "Yen . . ." He cleared his throat sadly. "Yeneneshe?"

Pili's brows lifted in surprise. "Yes," she said, looking at Nkwe suspiciously. Her eyes moved to Azrian. "I think she is fascinated with your son, most holy. If you had plans for his marriage, you had better take care. She is a cold sorceress and very powerful."

Nkwe saw Azrian's eyes click with recognition and he watched her intently. Azrian didn't look at him and seemed too lost in thought to notice his searching stare.

Pili peered ahead, speaking without looking at either of them. "There was also a spotted dog, but he . . . was killed," she said regretfully. "Prince Florian was a prisoner at the manor and we took him with us. We also took a black dog, a boy from the homeland who was to be Jule's pet. And there was one other. A young vixen. I tried to keep her away from the princess. Zeinara needs to focus on her duties, on getting home so --"

"Did she have a white mane?" Azrian asked quietly.

Pili nodded. "Yes."

"Kayya," Azrian whispered and closed her eyes, relieved.

"So the girl is known to you, most holy?" Pili asked.

"Kayya is from S'pru. She's my son's best friend. They fell from the bridge of light together." Azrian shook her head. "If she had died because of me . . ."

"The girl is fine," Pili assured Azrian. "More than fine. She is healthy enough to grab and fondle the princess. I must get back to them before . . ."

"Before they have sex!" Azrian said in mock astonishment.

Nkwe laughed when Pili's face hardened.

"The princess is to wed," Pili said, looking at Azrian as if she of all beasts should have been scandalized. "She must remain pure and untouched for her future husband! Not that it matters after everything with Jule, I suppose."

Nkwe's face darkened. "Jule touched her? Tell me he's dead."

"He's dead," Pili said with grim satisfaction.

Nkwe's eyes glinted. "Good."

They traveled in silence for a moment, and Nkwe could see Azrian's relief. It was as if someone had removed an immense pressure from her chest and now she could breathe. Nkwe understood how she felt. Knowing that Zeinara was alive and unharmed lightened his heart, and he felt more determined than ever to reach her. And Yeneneshe was with her? He couldn't believe it. Mogethis had told him twenty years before that Yeneneshe was dead. Would Mogethis lie to him? No. It couldn't be the same Yeneneshe.

"So how'd you get your tail kicked?" Nkwe asked and was satisfied when Pili scowled.

"We were pursued to the portal," Pili said darkly. "I knew we were being followed and I remained behind as the others fled, but I never imagined . . ." She shook her head. "There were three of them. . . ." She dropped her eyes and whispered softly, "I didn't stand a chance."

Pili's voice was sad and almost self-admonishing, and Nkwe watched her with grudging sympathy. He knew how important it was to Pili that she protect Zeinara and Etienne. Failure was not something that happened to her often, but when it did happen, she always barely recovered from self-flagellation in time for her next mission.

"Zeinara made it away and she's alive," Nkwe said to Pili. "That's what matters."

"Yes, I suppose so," Pili agreed.

"Who attacked you?" Azrian asked. "And how do we know they aren't following us right now?"

"I was attacked first by the witch," Pili said in a low, angry growl of a voice.

"The witch?" Nkwe repeated.

"She was hired by Simon to kill Jule, but all she really wanted were the magic weapons, and I think to kill Ettoras." Pili glanced sympathetically at Azrian. "She came after me with her slave, a drooling dog who dressed like one of the Honor Guard from Wychowl. He looked . . . familiar. I . . . may have seen him before."

Nkwe's eyes widened. "From the Honor Guard?"

"Yes," Pili answered. "The witch called him Gussy."

Nkwe pushed a paw back through is mane. Oh god.

"Her thrall proceeded to beat me," Pili said bitterly. "He was relentless. I--I could not stop him. As I lay in a pool of my own blood, the witch took my appearance and stepped through the portal. It closed behind her. . . . I could not follow. The slave, he sat in the darkness, as if he were waiting for someone. Perhaps waiting for me to die."

"You said there were three of them," Azrian said.

"There were," Pili muttered resentfully. "I lay there beaten, waiting for the end, and then a Great Dane happened along. He was wearing a scarlet cape, and I knew he was from Curith."

One of Ayni's, Nkwe thought.

"The Great Dane beat me," Pili went on. She swallowed hard, and Nkwe thought she looked a little sad. "He demanded answers, and because I knew he could not activate the portal, I told him all he wished to know. He stabbed me and tried to activate the portal, and it was then that the thrall burst out of hiding. He proceeded to beat the Great Dane to a bloody pulp, mindlessly, mercilessly, and he didn't stop until the Great Dane begged. Just like that, the thrall sat down."

"What happened to the thrall?" Nkwe asked, trying to keep the worry from his voice. What happened to Guss?

"I do not know," Pili answered. "The Great Dane staggered away with his tail between his legs, and the thrall followed him like a pet. I lay there bleeding . . . I thought I would die. . . . and then I heard a voice." Pili's eyes glimmered in wonder. "A voice came to me and said it would give me the strength to stand, that it would open the portal and let me through, if only I would swear to return Zeinara to Wychowl. I believe it was the Creator reaching down . . . protecting me." She whispered the last words to herself.

I believe it was Maret, Nkwe thought darkly. After all, Maret was the goddess most invested in Zeinara's return to Wychowl. It only made sense that she would intervene. Maret had likely placed Pili in Nkwe and Azrian's path, so that they would find her.

"The Creator used the filthy shrine of a heathen god," Pili went on, "to give me a second chance. And here I am."

Nkwe's lips tightened. "A shrine? Which god did it belong to?"

Pili shrugged irritably. "Who cares? The one with the M name. Mawren or something."

Ah. So it was Maret after all, Nkwe thought.

They stopped to rest again, and Nkwe was beginning to wonder just how long the damned tunnel was. Azrian dropped right off when before she had barely been able to sleep, and he knew the news of her son had put her mind at ease. Pili, however, remained wide awake, and Nkwe wished that she would sleep as well. He wanted a moment alone so that he might think, but he couldn't do so with Pili's dark, suspicious eyes constantly watching him.

Pili sat against the wall with her knees drawn up and spread, her elbows resting on them. Her ruddy brown mane fell across her slanted eyes, which were still smudged with kohl. A dagger was also still in her belt: her attacker had been too foolish to take it from her.

Nkwe half-suspected that it was Hawkeye who had taken Pili's appearance, in which case Pili was lucky to be alive. Given Guss' story of his birth, Hawkeye was the witch who owned a piece of his soul and, therefore, a piece of his mind. She was the only one who could put his mind in a thrall state. It had to be her. And the very thought terrified Nkwe. He wanted to be relieved that Zeinara was still alive, but if Hawkeye was in her company masquerading as Pili, there was no telling what might happen. And Zeinara was a sharp girl: it was only a matter of time before she noticed something was off.

Pili seemed to be just as worried. She stared at her boots, and Nkwe thought she looked caught somewhere between furious and sad. "How did you come to be with the Second Light?" she asked Nkwe darkly. Her face was down, but she lifted her eyes, and the effect was almost chilling. "Understand that she is under my protection. I do not know how she became mortal, but you so much as --"

Nkwe snorted. "Really? You're threatening me? How cute."

Pili glowered. "You won't think it's cute when I've cut your throat."

"Pft. I'd like to see you try." Nkwe leaned forward and lifted his brows, peering at Pili from under his hood. "Are you forgetting that I healed you? That you owe me your --?" Before Nkwe could finish his sentence, Pili had leapt on him. He choked when she elbowed him in the neck, pinning him to the wall and placing her dagger under his chin in one fluid motion. They glared at each other, nose-to-nose, and the heat of her sweet breath ruffled his fur.

"I owe you nothing," Pili hissed, peering into his face with glinting black eyes. "Your kind does nothing for free. I suspect you will ask for payment in the end. You will be disappointed, creature."

Nkwe's lip curled. "What could I possibly want from a scruffy little bitch like y--?" He jolted when she stabbed her elbow in his throat to silence him.

"I know you had the dagger," Pili said through her fangs. "Zeinara stole it from you! And now your sister is gone? You are behind what has happened to the Second Light, you pathetic worm, and you will pay --!"

Nkwe cut across her with a sudden burst of deep chuckles.

Pili scowled. "Shut up!"

"This is really sad," Nkwe said, sighing with laughter. "What the hell's the matter with you, Pili? You used to be the sort of bitch whose very mention made enemies of the crown piss down their tails. Even if I hated you, I at least respected you. Now you're so addled and confused, you have no idea what's going on, do you? Or who's really doing what. It's sad to watch." He smiled derisively. "You're like an old night-bitch selling herself on the streets. Sagging tits and droopy eyes. No one wants you anym--"

Pili growled and jammed Nkwe in the throat again.

Nkwe's cold blue eyes narrowed. "Go ahead. Slit my throat. And then you'll have to explain to Zeinara - mmpfh." He grunted when she hissed angrily and pressed the dagger harder. He could feel the hot blood slipping through is fur, but he looked at her defiantly and merely sat, waiting.

Pili tightened her fist on the dagger, but her paw was shaking, and Nkwe knew he had called her bluff. She took an angry breath and tensed again, as if she would really slit his throat this time. And despite the fact that she was working up the nerve to kill him, she looked so damn beautiful that he twisted the dagger from her paw, grabbed the back of her neck, and kissed her wildly.

Pili resisted only a moment, and then she was unbuttoning his pants. He felt his erection push free of the fabric, and with growling aggression, he snatched her pants down over her backside. She screamed softly when he grabbed her buttocks in fistfuls and smashed her wet pussy down on his cock.

***

When they set out again, Azrian was quick the notice the awkward glances that passed between her companions. Sometimes Nkwe would playfully twine his tail around Pili's. She would glower at him, and he would stop, but they were both always smiling after he had done so. Azrian was baffled by it, and she could only assume that something had happened between the two while she was sleeping. She wasn't surprised. The sexual tension between them had been agonizingly obvious.

"Isn't that sweet?" said Atieno derisively in Azrian's ear. "Nkwe has found someone who sees the darkness in him and doesn't shrink from it. And Pili? Well, she can settle down in a shack in the middle of nowhere and finally feel normal. And they lived happily ever after. The end."

"Go away," Azrian whispered. She was walking behind the other two, and unable to endure their glances and tail tangling, she had put a fair amount of distance between herself and them. But she was still worried they might have heard her.

"Why should I go away? Three's a crowd when two are in love," Atieno said. "You looked like you could use my company."

"Or maybe you could use mine," Azrian returned.

"Touché, baby sister," Atieno said quietly. "Touché."

"Is death so lonely?" Azrian wondered.

"Depends," Atieno answered darkly. "But morose thoughts aside, I've come for a reason this time. Remember when I smacked you from the bridge of light? All that blood and fire. It was glorious."

"You --!" Azrian choked angrily.

"Yes, me," laughed Atieno. "Did you really think Ayni was threatened by a bug like you? She of Rage has bigger things to worry about, like who takes Hildrith'el's place in Skkye. Honestly, I was doing you a favor. Had Zeinara perished - as she was supposed to - you could easily install yourself as queen of Varimore again. Of course, there'd still be that silly little curse to break."

Azrian's fangs clenched. Her voice was strained and angry when she whispered, "I don't want to be queen of Varimore."

"And here I thought you'd finally grown up. Don't you understand, dummy? Bringing the foxes and dogs together under your rule was _always_the only way to forge a better world. _That_was the goal all along: making foxes and dogs coexist in peace. Remember what I told you about Ac'thalian?"

"Go away."

"Hers was a reign of peace," Atieno went on. "So much so, that the dogs remember the reign of King Tomas as their Golden Era. Their renaissance, if you will. With Ac'thalian as their queen, art and music flourished, foxes were integrated within dog society, lived in houses, wore clothing aside from rags and bearskins. But of course, the moment King Tomas decided his lovely wife should perish, such things were stricken from history. Foxes who had entered dog society became house pets and slaves, while others were chased back into the forest. Yes. Prince Maxwell did very well. Ayni was pleased."

"Of course she was," Azrian said darkly.

"Ayni loves the foxes," Atieno assured her. "She only believes they should not rule the world nor take part in ruling. They are magical creatures who would abuse their power --"

"As if creatures without magic never abused power," Azrian countered.

"Even still, the magical nature of the foxes allowed them to abuse power to greater lengths than dogs ever could. How else do you think they stormed Heaven and waged war on the very goddess who did nothing but love and care for them?" Atieno hissed angrily. "Ayni would not see that happen again. Her actions are to protect Hildrith'el, who she views as her mother and the mother of all existence. For this reason, Ayni believes the foxes are better off in the forests, and many of them would agree with her. Were you queen of Varimore, you could bring a time of peace, a greater peace than Ac'thalian ever did. It rests with you to try."

"You said you came for something?" Azrian said dismissively.

"Ah yes. You will be running into Zeinara soon. I came to tell you that I fucked her brains out."

Azrian sneered.

"And that she is carrying my child."

Azrian tripped to a flabbergasted halt. The others looked at her, and she brushed herself off and kept walking. "Your what!" she hissed under her breath.

"My child," Atieno repeated indifferently.

"How could you --!" Azrian began angrily.

"How could I not?" Atieno said with a snort. "There she was, luscious and wild and beautiful. Looking at her, I suddenly understood why Maret chose her mother. I wanted her. So I took her, knowing that she would die shortly anyway."

"You --!"

"It's simply amazing how long she has survived," went on Atieno, quietly musing. "She was an instrument. I gave her the tools necessary to make you mortal, and after she had done so, she was to die. In case you are wondering . . . Ti'uu wished for her to die."

"No!" Azrian said at once and swallowed hard. "No, you're lying."

"No," Atieno said darkly. He made an impatient noise. "After all he's done, you still defend our daddy dear? Ti'uu is as terrible as he is great. Water can be warm, nourishing, soothing. But make no mistake, baby sister. Water can and will strangle you, coldly and indifferently."

Azrian walked on in silence. She refused to believe it.

"Very well," Atieno said, recognizing her silent refusal.

"Why would he want her death?" Azrian demanded in a low voice. "She's just a girl!"

"Come now, baby sister. We both know Zeinara is not just a girl. A child of Maret was never meant to rule the mortal realm. At least not in Ti'uu's opinion. He believes one of his daughters should rule. He is only concerned with fixing his mistakes."

"Why do I need to know that Zeinara is pregnant?" Azrian demanded, choosing to ignore everything else that was said.

Atieno sighed. "You haven't been listening to me, have you? Zeinara is pregnant with my child, and our darling father wants her dead. Quite likely he views such a thing as a mercy, and he will send someone to succeed where I failed. Yfel's zealots will want Zeinara dead as well. If they haven't tried for her life before, it is because there are so few of them left thanks to our overly enthusiastic Hellene, who weeded them out and destroyed them with many magnificent public executions."

Azrian made a noise of disgust.

"With S'pru burning in the sky, many of Ti'uu's foxes have returned to Aonre. They will discover that Zeinara is a child of Maret. They will want her dead to make room for Ettoras. I am doing you a favor, baby sister. I know you will want to protect Zeinara . . . just a heads up."

"Thanks," Azrian said sarcastically.

"You are welcome, Second Light."

Azrian bristled at the sneering in his voice. "Are you sure you aren't telling me this because you _care_about Zeinara? You want me to protect your child!" she accused.

"Don't be absurd. It was never Ti'uu's intention to make good on his promises. . . . He was never going to let me back in Skkye," Atieno said bitterly. "He cast me out because of Ayni, not Mohaua. Why would he let his rival for Ayni's affections back into Heaven? If I act against him now, it is purely out of spite."

"So you care nothing for your own child?"

"I feel only a small amount of curiosity. In which case, I will be watching from afar."

"You sound like our father," Azrian said darkly.

"I do, don't I?" Atieno agreed, startling Azrian. "Take care, baby sister. Once you have left the valley, I do not think we will speak again."

Azrian raised her brows. "Can't say I'm unhappy with that, but why?"

"Come now, we both know how this will end," Atieno said in disgust. "You'll go to Wychowl and make nauseating kissy faces with Etienne. And I'll be damned if I stick around to watch that."

Azrian laughed. "Then where will you go?" She hated herself when she realized she didn't want Atieno to leave. For the first time since she'd known him, she actually found his company . . . bearable.

"Perhaps I'll stay in the Summer Valley," Atieno said unhappily. "Of all the places in this weary world, it is the only place untouched by bloodshed."

"I thought you liked bloodshed," Azrian teased.

"No," Atieno whispered sadly. He laughed, the hollow sound hot near Azrian's ear. "You keep forgetting, darling sister . . ."

Azrian waited.

"I am a son of Mercy."

Atieno didn't speak again, and Azrian found herself missing his company. The group stopped to rest, and Nkwe and Pili couldn't keep their eyes off each other. Azrian wanted to scream. The three of them were sitting against the wall. Nkwe and Pili were sitting side by side, and Azrian could feel the tension like electric heat on the air. Nkwe wanted to kiss Pili but was afraid to do so in front of Azrian.

"Just kiss her!" Azrian burst. "As if I didn't know about you already."

Nkwe hesitated. "Wait - you didn't hear us before, did y --" His words were muffled when Pili eagerly grabbed him by the collar, yanked him around, and kissed him hard on the mouth. They melted into the kiss, and Azrian rolled her eyes. As they moaned and pawed each other, she glanced down at the glass between her feet and went still. Someone was walking in the passage beneath them, but the vines and flowers obscured the figures.

Her heart racing, Azrian leapt to her feet and walked quickly, following those who walked below. Every now and then, the vines cleared away, and she caught glimpses of red tails, red manes - golden wings.

"Ettoras!" Azrian shouted, her voice a sob. She could see her son on the passage below, but he could not hear her.

"What is it, most holy?" Pili said. She and Nkwe jogged up, watching in confusion as Azrian fell to her knees and pressed both paws flat on the glass.

"Ettoras is down there?" Nkwe asked. "Is Zeinara with him?"

Azrian didn't answer. She narrowed her eyes and concentrated, and the glass between her paws split in a tiny crack.