To Catch a Thief

Story by Shizuka on SoFurry

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#1 of Against the Grey


Against the Grey

I. To Catch a Thief

Moonless nights were best for skulking. That was a part of the Creed that Eren had long ago learned and proven to his own satisfaction. Unfortunate it was that such nights came only at monthly intervals. Tonight was not one of those nights.

There was another creed Eren followed; not part of the Creed, but rather his own creed: A good thief acts when circumstance favors him. A great thief acts in spite of circumstance, and causes it to favor him. Eren was a great thief; he styled himself the best in Thelessia. And there were those who agreed, and not few in number, either. Had he not stolen the crystal eyes of the Smiling Ones? Had he not braved the Ravenspire's deepest vault, and emerged, unharmed, with the prize he had sought? Had he not stolen the silver orb of Darkhallow, said to be sculpted from frozen moonlight, from the very heart of Night's Watch?

All of these things he had done, and more, and what if the tale grew in the telling? It might upset some of his fellow kynari, but it impressed an equal number. Besides, there were far fewer kynari in Thelessia than there were humans, and those humans who heard of his deeds would either treat him with a wary respect or seek him out to hire him. He found either situation agreeable.

He stole along the rough dirt path, one more shadow beneath the half-moon. He'd been hired this night to retrieve an item, a simple crystal bowl. It must have some value, he supposed; perhaps it was antique, or perhaps enchanted. Eren neither knew nor cared. His fee had been sufficient to deal with any complications that might arise, and there was no fear of the law. Thelessian law extended only so far as High King Morgan's knights could ride, and with the High King ailing, that reach was short indeed. In the cities, the thieves remained circumspect, but the countryside was plagued with bandits. A burglar stealing from an old shrine, now abandoned, would be of little concern, even were the crime discovered.

Eren drew into the shadow of an overhanging tree, studying his destination. It was close, now. A short dash from this tree to that hillock, then to that stone, then, flat in the undergrowth, to the crooked oak that leaned so near the wall of the shrine. If he ran along the branch, he should be able to make the jump.

He could walk in the front gate, of course. But the Creed taught a thief to take precautions against being observed, no matter what the situation. It was good advice. Too many thieves were carelessly surprised by someone who shouldn't have been where they were. He wouldn't make that mistake.

Minutes ticked by while he watched the shrine, double-checking his approach. All remained quiet; the dark, half-crumbling building disturbed only by the faint rustle of the breeze through the leaves. There was no sign of life; even the night birds seemed muffled.

Eren moved.

His cloak fluttered to the ground in the shadow of the tree, where he'd hidden a moment earlier. He could retrieve it on his way out. He didn't need its bulk interfering with his acrobatics.

Fast, fluid strides ate the distance between tree and hill. His feet nimbly avoided jutting roots and upturned stones. The night, even with the half-moon hanging in the sky, would have nearly blinded his human compatriots, but to his vulpine eyes, it might almost have been high noon. He paused behind the hill, taking stock, found the night undisturbed once again, and darted toward the stone, dropping flat as he reached it.

Beyond this point, there was little more shadow to make use of, until he reached the oak. Eren pressed himself as flat to the ground as he could and began to crawl forward on his stomach. If there had been anyone watching from the shrine, this would have been the moment he most risked exposure. But of course no cry went up, no sentinel's footstep against the stone echoed to his ears. He rose to a crouch behind the oak, listening, waiting. Nothing changed.

The bark was rough beneath his fingers as he climbed, but the gnarled branches provided ample holds. He had reached his branch in moments and, testing it by placing more and more of his weight on it, found it sturdy enough to suit. That was good; he wouldn't need to plan out another approach.

Taking a slow, deep breath, Eren rose to his feet and ran. One, two, three, four steps along the branch, arms and tail out to balance him -- and he flung himself into the air, toward the wall. The branch wasn't as springy as he might have hoped, but there was enough there to add to his leap, and he let the breath out in a soft hiss as he landed atop the narrow stone. His eyes swept the temple yard below, and then he dropped noiselessly down onto the unkempt grass.

Immediately, he froze, low to the ground, senses straining for any sign of life. He'd felt something, when he'd crossed the wall, a sensation not unlike stepping through cobwebs, something almost insubstantially light brushing through his fur and caressing his flesh. A sensation he'd learned to recognize as the crossing of a magical ward. It might have been an alarm, or a curse, or something worse. Or it might have been what his client had told him...

*

"A bowl," he repeated in disbelief.

The human seated across from him in the dim shadow of the tavern nodded, his lined face looking positively ancient in the faint glow of the candle. "Crystal. It's about three handspans across and one tall, and it features a snowflake-patterned inlay." He coughed; his voice was slightly less hoarse when he continued, "We've found records indicating it's in an old temple."

Eren raised an eyebrow. He'd never stolen from the gods before, not directly, but he wasn't squeamish about the possibility. As far as he was concerned, the gods seemed to care precious little about material things, whereas he and his clients cared a great deal. "Stealing from an evil cult, that sort of thing?"

"No." Shaking his head, the man clarified, "The shrine was abandoned."

"But you haven't walked in and taken it," the vulpine observed. "Traps?"

His client hesitated. "It's a possibility. We don't think so, but we don't know. Not for certain."

"Why do you need me, then?"

"Because you have a reputation. You get the job done, you don't try to cheat your employers, and you keep reasonably quiet about the details afterward."

"That's just good business." And the Creed, but the Creed was mostly about good business. Thieves hardly prized law, but the better ones did embrace practicality.

"Is it? Well, there're better thieves than you, but they're less honest, mostly." He grinned, a slightly crooked and gap-toothed expression. "Or 'reliable' might be a better word. And there're those more honest, but they're mostly not as good as you. And, of course, you're kynari."

"Yes," Eren murmured in a dry tone that showed little of the irritation he felt. "Because, as everyone knows, kynari are born rogues, skilled at thievery and deception."

The man stared blankly at him for a moment before bursting into uproarious laughter. Eren's estimation of him rose. "Maybe so. More to the point, though, the shrine belonged to Veluna--"

"The goddess of the hunt."

The human scowled irritably at the interruption, but only for a moment. "Among other things. A kynari goddess, yes? And the building's still warded. Only kynari can enter the grounds. So we hire you, or we hire a magician to take down the ward, and hope he's powerful enough. You're less expensive."

Eren cocked his head. "You haven't heard my fee yet. A ward, hm?" He frowned. Magic had a way of complicating what should be a simple job.

"Probably to keep wild animals away. A century or two ago, the area was just within the borders of Kynaridysha. Now it's just within the borders of Thelessia. Wild land, still."

"Wild animals or raiders," Eren pointed out sourly. It made sense, though. Shrines to Veluna were traditionally located in deep wilderness. In fact, as far as he knew, all of the exceptions were those that'd had settlements grow up around them. "They're still functional, though? That was over a century ago..."

The old man again favored him with that gap-toothed grin. "I hear the kynari are born sorcerers."

"Almost as good as the elves," he agreed wryly. Privately, he suspected the kynari were superior, but it made little difference to him. He had little enough talent for sorcery, or for any of the other magics, as far as that went. Not that he cared to advertise that fact.

Indeed, the human seemed to have taken that as acquiescence, and smiled warmly. "So you'll have no trouble with them. Now, as to the matter of payment..."

*

He'd been offered seven hundred crowns, enough for a couple of years of very comfortable living. Then he'd haggled that up to a full thousand. The ticklish spidersilk sensation of magic had him wondering whether he'd asked for enough.

So far, though, so good. No alarms, or none that he could hear, and kynari ears were quite keen. No sudden movement in the shadows. Best of all, he hadn't yet been turned into some innocuous prey animal or other. That was one of the more prominent myths of Veluna, now that he thought of it. A little late to remember that now, of course. But no harm done.

He crept in the shadow of the wall toward the shrine proper. Standing to the side of the door, he stuck his head around it, just briefly, before withdrawing it again. Enough to get an impression of the room -- stone neatly laid but not ornamented, a plain altar bearing a candleholder or two and some other metal objects, a statue of the goddess behind the altar, one staircase down in the far corner, one wooden door opposite, one hole in the ceiling above the altar, leaving it open to the night sky. Not enough to present a good target, had anyone been there.

He waited a moment, listening, and thought while he did. He hadn't noticed any bowl. It might have been among the objects on the altar, though he'd have expected crystal to stand out among the metal. No, that was probably an incense burner, a holy icon or two, perhaps a ritual knife or basin. The bowl could be downstairs, or in the side room, or behind the altar.

Eren decided to check the door first. It was the most likely place if the bowl was something that had to be locked away, and staying upstairs would give him more options in case of an unwelcome surprise. Since he'd heard nothing, he ghosted through the door, remaining close to the wall.

The assessment he had made of the shrine proper didn't change much upon further inspection. There was little in the space -- only the statue, the altar, and the objects atop it. The statue was probably of alabaster, he thought, and lacked the gilding or gemstone ornamentation many religious statues boasted. It was possible a thief had been here before him, but considering the deity in question, he thought it at least as likely that the relative simplicity of the statue was intended. Likewise, there was nowhere for a worshipper to sit, unless on the floor; perhaps there had been cushions at one time, but he saw no traces of such.

In fact, the altar itself, and the shrine in general, was better preserved than he would have expected. Could the ward have kept even the elements at bay? It would be a useful enchantment for the harsh winters, with that open ceiling above the altar, that was certain.

Eren approached the door with caution, though he was allowing himself to relax slightly. There had been no sign of disturbance. That light, ticklish sensation still set him on edge, but it seemed to be fading a little bit, now that he was inside. It was stronger in the area of the altar, he noted as he walked; that reinforced his suspicion that the opening was warded.

The door was of sturdy oak, reinforced with metal, something of an oddity. Locked, of course. He tested it gently, found it solid to the touch, and opted for the finesse approach. The thin metal tools tucked into the hidden pocket behind his collar made short work of the lock, which was almost primitive -- even considering its age, it was of poor quality. He tucked his tools away again, then warily opened the door.

Beyond the door was what must have been a storeroom. Several large clay jars stood on the floor in the corner opposite the door. Most of them were obviously empty, either open or chipped, but two or three still bore unbroken seals. Eren risked lighting a candle, to allow himself to see further in; the moonlight that shone through the shrine's ceiling wasn't enough to illuminate the entire storeroom, even to his eyes. In the wan candlelight he could see a pile of empty sacks and a single barrel beyond the jars. Against the far wall stood a set of shelves, which bore a boggling assortment of odds and ends -- a coil of rope, numerous candles, a handful of books and a stack of loose papers, several inkwells (all of them dry), a bundle of arrows and an unstrung bow, a plain-looking knife in its sheath, a length of cloth folded into a compact bundle...

And there, on the shelf second from the bottom, sat a crystal bowl, among mismatched silver and pewter goblets.

Excited, he stepped into the somewhat stale air of the storeroom. Motes of dust swirled lightly in the air current caused by the opening of the door. His candle's flame flickered in that same breeze, then steadied, shielded by his body. The sense of staleness in the air was quickly fading.

He had been fairly certain of the bowl from his first glimpse of it, but now that he was closer to it, there was no question. This was what he'd been sent to find. The inlaid pattern wasn't what he'd imagined; instead of a stylized depiction, the pattern was such that the surface of the bowl almost appeared to be rimed by frost. Eren could almost imagine he felt a chill just by looking at it. But here was his goal. He shivered, a thrill of anticipation such as he'd rarely felt before.

The air had gone still again, he noticed as he reached for his prize. Even the incessant tickling of the ambient ward didn't plague him, here. In his left hand, his candle flickered, began to gutter out. Annoying.

His fingertips brushed the bowl, and the world was filled with white.

*

Stirring to consciousness, Eren became aware of three unsettling realities. First, he was naked. Second, he couldn't move; his limbs were bound at the wrists and ankles. Third, he was not alone. There was a scent here, almost hidden beneath something cool and astringent... wintergreen, he thought.

"You can open your eyes," someone said, bored. A soft, feminine voice, it was, low and smooth, each syllable precisely flowing into the next. When he didn't, she continued, "I know you're awake. I noticed the change in your breathing."

Well, then. No sense in prolonging the inevitable. He opened his eyes slowly, half-expecting to be blinded by light, but the area was still fairly dark. Evidently a torch, or several candles, had been lit, somewhere nearby; the light shifted with the flickering flame, causing shadows to dance from place to place. Overhead, he could see the night sky...

He was on the altar. He was tied atop the bloody altar! No, shackled -- he could hear the metal clank as he tensed up.

Then she stepped forward into his field of vision, and for a moment he forgot his fear, forgot everything else.

She was a vixen; sleek and silver-furred, gleaming in the faint light like placid water beneath a full moon. Tall -- he thought taller than him, though it was hard for him to tell -- and long of limb, with the light but muscular build of a runner. Or of a huntress, he thought, spotting the Veluna medal that hung from a golden chain around her neck to rest between her breasts. And she was generously curved, too, though not what one would call buxom. Just... well-proportioned, in every measure.

That, he could judge well enough, since she wasn't wearing a thing aside from that pendant.

"Something wrong?" she asked, looking down on him with an arched brow and a faint smirk. Her expression proclaimed that she was entirely aware that he was currently thinking that she was the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen, and that she considered his assessment merely her due.

It made him remember himself, a little. And steel himself against her.

"Wrong?" he repeated, affecting the same casual, mildly sardonic tone. "Not at all. This is one of the best dreams I've had in a while."

She smiled at him, tight-lipped. As she stepped forward again, her expression melted into something simultaneously cheerful and seductive and coy and desirous, something he could describe only as smoldering. Her hand reached out to alight on his chest, and he felt her fingers -- surprisingly cool to the touch -- comb gently through his fur, her clawtips extended just far enough to lightly prick the flesh beneath. "Is this a dream?" she purred, leaning over him as her hand glided over his stomach.

Eren sucked in a breath as her fingers wrapped around his shaft. "Isn't it?" he murmured in response. It wasn't the witty answer he'd been planning, but the vixen's slow caress of his cock was... distracting, to say the least.

She smiled warmly at him, and her hand left his shaft, gently fondling the sac underneath. "I'd say you should pinch yourself and find out, but that might be a problem." Gods, he'd almost forgotten the shackles. "Here... let me help."

A red haze of pain exploded across his senses as the vixen closed her hand, squeezing. He was barely aware of the howl of agony that tore from his throat; it was only after she'd relented and eased the pressure that he processed its fading echo as his own voice.

"So, tell me, thief: are you dreaming?"

"Sukini!" This voice was unfamiliar, higher in pitch than the silver vixen's -- almost shrill, in fact, and accompanied by the rapid patter of footfalls crossing the stone floor. "That was hardly necessary."

The silver tilted her head, as though measuring the statement. "Perhaps not," she agreed eventually, "but it was enjoyable. I was about to ask who sent him. Give me an hour, and I'll bet we'll know."

"Sukini..." The name was more of a sigh, this time, the shrillness in the voice practically vanished. "There's no need. We know it was one of them. Who else would know it was here?"

"But we don't know which one. I could--"

"No." A second vixen's head poked forward into Eren's field of vision. This one was almost as tall as the silver, and her fur was a frosty white -- all of it, even the tips of her ears and tail. She wore no more than the silver, so the fact was very apparent. An albino, he thought initially. But no; her eyes were a brilliant blue. They almost seemed luminous. "Besides, we'll need him in one piece."

Sukini released him, at that, and he breathed a soft sigh of relief. "Very well," she said, with distinctly poor grace. "But he still must be punished. He remains a thief."

The white vixen's lips quirked. "He is, but he hasn't stolen from you or I."

It occurred to Eren that he should try to say something in his own defense. "Excuse me--"

The pair ignored him; he might as well have been part of the altar he was bound to, an inanimate object. "But Veluna--" the silver was saying.

"--Will do as Veluna will," the white countered.

"Very well, Iyalis. He's yours. And Veluna's, of course."

The white vixen either failed to notice or failed to react to the sarcastic tone of Sukini's final addition. Her attention turned back to Eren. "What do you know about the Grey?"

He blinked at the sudden change of pace. "Fairy tales. There's someone in every town who supposedly knows someone who knows someone who works for them, stealing things, killing people, for any number of reasons. Some people'll see conspiracies in everything."

"True." She shrugged. "But that doesn't mean that there aren't any conspiracies. The Grey exists. We're not sure of their purpose, but they've been attempting to gather certain artifacts. The bowl you were foolish enough to disturb was one of them. Count yourself lucky that you're not a sorcerer."

"He was going to send a wizard," he remembered. He only realized that he'd blurted the thought aloud when the vixen replied.

"He wouldn't have been so foolish. The bowl gathers and stores magical energies. Any magician who thought to touch it without the blessing of Veluna would be drained in a moment, if not killed outright." Her stormy blue eyes narrowed. "We suspect that's the purpose the Grey intend to put it to, in fact. But there's some good in this. We now know that their agent isn't aware of all of its properties, or he wouldn't have sent you as he did."

Eren shook his head. "This sounds... I mean, I've done some pretty unbelievable things, but this's insane."

"Is it? Think." Iyalis smiled. "Since you're not a sorcerer, he must have explained the ward to you. A story about bandits, perhaps?"

"Wild animals," he admitted.

"Ah. A well-chosen lie; some shrines have such wards, when they're first constructed. But those are fleeting, fragile things, gone in a few years at the most. To place around a temple of this size a ward of such durability is no small undertaking. Magic is not free, thief. There is a cost. Something must always be sacrificed. Remember that; it will serve you well in the future."

His ears perked at that. "You're going to let me go?"

She nodded, and his heart leapt. "Killing you or keeping you serves no purpose. When we release you, you will serve ours. But first--"

"First," interrupted Sukini, with a dark grin, "you must be punished for your crime. There must always be a sacrifice, as Iyalis says."

The white vixen favored him with that gentle smile once again. "Even so. And since you are upon the altar, it seems fitting that it be you."

"Wait--"

"We could sacrifice your manhood." Sukini's malicious grin made him shudder.

"Or we could sacrifice your pleasure," Iyalis added placidly, stepping in close to him. "The decision will be yours."

"Then I--"

"Shh." Iyalis' fingertip pressed against Eren's lips, silencing him. Literally silencing him -- his mouth continued to work, but no sound emerged. He stared up at her, and she giggled, almost playfully. "No words. This isn't something you'll want to disturb."

"She'll give your voice back, afterwards," Sukini added sourly. "Even if I say otherwise. I know her."

"We don't require his voice. He might." Iyalis gracefully vaulted onto the altar, then slowly knelt, straddling his bound body at the waist. She leaned forward, her hands planted near either of his shoulders, affording him a lovely view of her lush breasts as she drew still nearer, until those soft mounds pressed against his body and her lips brushed his forehead. He became abruptly aware of how hard he was. Equally slowly, she drew back, until she was straddling his body at the waist. His eyes widened. Surely she wasn't going to--

She was! The vixen's eyes locked on his as she lowered her body until the tip of his cock touched her soft folds. She paused there for a moment, laughing, as he gaped at her; then she moved further, and the heat of her sex engulfed the head of his cock.

He moaned -- though the sound was muted by whatever she'd done to his voice -- and let his eyes close, savoring the sensation of the vixen's velvety passage descending, almost torturously slowly, around him. One of her hands was on his chest now, caressing him much as the silver had earlier, save without the prickling of claws. He felt her weight against his hips and opened his eyes. She had taken him completely within her, and still she was smiling down at him, that same enigmatic expression.

"It would be to your advantage not to enjoy this too much," she purred. He felt a light, fluttering squeeze along his cock. A part of him marveled at her muscle control; most of him fought the urge to beg her to do that again. Her free hand stroked his cheek fondly -- or perhaps he was flattering himself -- and she continued, "To sacrifice your pleasure, you see. I intend to enjoy myself, though, and I assume Sukini will."

"I intend to," the silver vixen echoed, a soft clank of metal against metal accompanying her words. A moment later, he felt her fingers around his ankle. His legs were free!

It would still be rather difficult to escape, though, with his hands bound and a vixen's weight pressing him against the altar's marble surface.

Iyalis' pussy fluttered enticingly around him again, and he gasped noiselessly, his back arching slightly in response. Her smile had definitely taken on an impish cast. How was it he wasn't supposed to enjoy this? If she were to move, to draw herself slowly off of his cock, only to plunge back onto him... He shivered, attempting to dismiss the image. No amount of self-control would be able to overcome that!

Sukini, meanwhile, had found something to brace his leg against. He felt her fingers slither along his thigh, then dip to toy with his balls -- a contact that sent a jolt of panic through him. He tensed, but this time, her touch passed without inflicting any pain upon sensitive portions of his anatomy.

Somehow, perversely, he was more turned on than he could ever remember being before.

Iyalis shifted atop him, leaning forward a bit. Even this slight movement of his cock within her sent a sudden rush of pleasure searing through him. His blood was pounding in his ears; he wanted to growl in frustration when she stopped again, teasing him.

Sukini laughed. "He won't last, Iyalis."

"You've been surprised before."

"Not like this. If you hadn't sealed his voice, he'd be begging already." Eren couldn't see the expression on the silver vixen's face, but he could imagine her mocking smile all too clearly.

The worst of it was, he wasn't sure she was wrong.

"My turn, little thief," the Amazonian vixen murmured. Eren tensed in sudden horror as something hard and blunt brushed the cheek of his ass, coming to rest against the pucker beneath his tail. He heard her laugh again, and then there was an awful pressure against his clenched ring.

Iyalis' weight shifted. Eren gasped at the sensation. Sukini barked a gleefully sadistic laugh as his resistance faltered momentarily and the hard tool pushed past his entrance, penetrating him. He groaned, still silent. The pressure the silver vixen was putting on her toy didn't relent; he felt it stretching him, filling him, moving ever deeper inside. He squirmed. Iyalis purred with pleasure, her moist heat seeming to intensify around his cock.

The toy inside him twisted. He could feel tears in his eyes at the steady, insistent pressure. Iyalis' spell stifled his protests as effectively as it had everything else. The hard shaft began to withdraw, its girth dragging along his internal walls in a way that made him shudder. With only its tip remaining inside of him, its motion paused. Then it began once more to thrust forward.

The white vixen was attempting to remain still, straddling him, but his own motions required her to adjust to maintain her balance. It was almost as though she were riding him, he were thrusting up into her, though the motions were less vigorous than he would have liked -- except that none of it was under his control. He arched, twisted, writhed, bumped his hips upward, all in response to Sukini's toy. And nothing he did seemed to affect that in the slightest; however he might move, its casual violation never paused, its slow, steady thrust-and-withdrawal nearly mechanical in its precision.

He gasped for breath when it pressed against a sensitive spot, grinding insistently against him before moving on. Above him, Iyalis arched backwards, maintaining her balance against the quick forward motion of his hips. He'd buried his length fully within her again, and judging by the mewl of passion that escaped her lips, she was most appreciative.

So was he. Despite his best efforts, pleasure assaulted his mind as the two vixens ravished his body. Odd, really; he'd have expected the shaft filling his ass to be more painful. Aside from that first moment of penetration, though, it was mainly just uncomfortable -- the sense of incredible fullness, the knowledge of the violation.

Perhaps that was attributable to Iyalis, though. Her unsteady gyrations on his cock were delivering a sort of pleasure he'd have never imagined possible from the awkward array of motions. Heat coursed through him, his blood pounding with every heartbeat. He was gasping for breath. So was she, he thought; her back arched, chest pushed forward, those perfect breasts bouncing ever so slightly as she moved, as they both moved.

The shaft in his ass drew back more swiftly than it had, thrust forward again equally swiftly. Sukini had had enough of gentleness, it seemed. Still there was no pain, even with the silver vixen's toy all but pounding into him.

His senses were overwhelmed by the pleasure Iyalis was giving him, no doubt. The white vixen's fingers were curled, combing through his fur. Her soft cries of pleasure came in steady cadence now. Something in her voice, some undertone of need, sparked something deep within him. His hips lifted toward her, as best he was able with her weight atop him.

Sukini's tool slammed forward, forcing itself deeply into him, then drew back again to leave him almost empty. Still no pain. There was a deep... feeling, indescribable, but not unpleasant, a dark current that ran beneath the pleasure Iyalis' body lavished upon him without, quite, touching it.

There was nothing else, only sensation: The white vixen's heat around his shaft. The silver's shaft working relentlessly in his ass. The white's weight on his hips, her hands against his chest. The scents of wintergreen and jasmine and vixen. Sukini's hand against his thigh, just below the knee. Iyalis' breath, rushing in swift, panting gasps. His own body, alight in every nerve as the two vixens took him, used him.

With a throaty moan, Iyalis lifted herself nearly off his cock, then slammed herself back down, her head tilting back, practically howling her release. Her pussy clenched around his cock, almost massaging. His blood boiled. The toy pushed deep into his ass. He arched, cried out -- silently.

The orgasm seemed to go on forever. It was like nothing he'd experienced before; heat surged through him in waves, pleasure assaulted his mind like a lightning strike. He could barely breath, but at the same time, he couldn't stop screaming in release. Everything around him was still; he was in constant motion, his body twitching as muscles convulsed. He barely felt Sukini withdraw her toy from him; it made no difference to his pleasure. Nor did it change anything when the silver vixen helped to lift the white from his cock. He writhed on the altar, locked into the throes of bliss. He thought this was impossible. He thought his heart might stop. He stopped thinking anything at all, reduced to simply feeling. Feeling pleasure, and warmth, and release.

It seemed like a long time before he stopped feeling, before he lay heaving for breath, utterly exhausted, utterly fulfilled, upon Veluna's altar. His thoughts took a long time to come back to him. His breath, even longer.

He still wasn't ready when a fingertip poked his... chest? It felt strange. Perhaps it was the twinge of pleasure it sent through his exhausted body. "Open your eyes," Sukini said.

He moaned incoherently in response. His voice was back, he noticed dully, but not fully. It was thin, almost hoarse from overuse -- but different.

A sharp crack and a burst of pain across her ass distracted him from the thought. "Open your eyes," she repeated.

"Enough, Sukini," Iyalis murmured. The silver vixen snorted in response.

He opened his eyes. His eyelids felt as though they'd been cast from lead, his muscles weak as water, but he managed it. Even breathing felt a little odd, with his body still singing in the afterglow, he noticed. He frowned slightly at the finger poking his right breast, but he felt too tired, and too good, to complain. "Wha'?" he muttered, only half coherent.

...Wait. That wasn't right.

He tried to sit up, failed, and settled for tilting his head forward. Both eyes had flown wide open.

He had breasts.

"Wha'd you do t'me?" he -- she -- demanded, turning an accusatory gaze on the silver vixen.

Smirking, she inclined her head. "I told you... we sacrificed either your pleasure or your manhood. You chose--"

"Enough, Sukini," Iyalis repeated. There was an undercurrent of annoyance in her voice, this time, and the silver's mouth snapped shut almost instantly in response. Eren was in no state to appreciate that, though. "There are sacrifices," she added more kindly, stroking Eren's forehead. "You've paid for your crime, as the goddess willed."

"Goddess--?" Eren shook her head in disbelief. "Change me back!" What she'd taken to be a strain in her voice, she realized, must merely have been its new timbre -- high in pitch, though no less firm in volume, now that she was beginning to recover her breath.

"I cannot." Iyalis bowed her head. "I am a priestess of Veluna; I merely channel her power. If Veluna accepted Sukini's solution, then there must be reason to it. To undo that, to work against her will..." The white vixen shrugged helplessly.

"But--"

"But there may be a way," she added thoughtfully, smiling as Eren refocused her attention. "Ah, I see you're eager. Understandable. But do not accept too quickly. It will be dangerous."

Sukini stared at Iyalis in shock. "You're not thinking of asking her?"

"Asking me what?"

"I am," Iyalis said to the silver vixen, ignoring Eren's own interruption. "There is a way to restore your former body, thief--"

"My name is Eren," she interjected, sulking.

"Eren, then." The priestess nodded. "There is an artifact of Veluna known as the Heart of the Huntress. A ruby of uncommon size and quality. It's said that Veluna herself wore it as a pendant when she walked the world during the Age of Gods, and that she left it to her high priest when that age ended and the gods withdrew to the heavens." Her iridescent blue eyes met his, very somberly. "The Heart had the power to alter its wearer's body. The priesthood used it in ceremonial hunts to take prey unawares, but in your case..."

"Where is it?" Eren demanded.

Bowing her head, Iyalis explained, "It is one of the artifacts seized by the Grey."

Eren's lips compressed into a tight line. "Where are they?"

"Have a care, thief." Sukini's arms folded over her chest, tail twitching in irritation. "The Grey do not take kindly to those who would interfere with them. If they catch you--"

"They won't," Eren said confidently. "Anyway, I'd rather--" Casting a sidelong glance toward Iyalis, he failed to finish the thought.

"It's not so bad as all that," she said kindly. "I daresay you'd come to appreciate its advantages in time. But I can hardly blame you for your desire." She sighed. "Very well, then. But take my sister's warning to heart." Her eyes met his once again, a fierce gaze that he flinched away from. "These are no nobles who will beat or imprison you. They will kill."

"Or worse," the silver vixen mused. "Males, they've been known to enslave for labor, which is generally simply a more prolonged sentence of death. But females? A pretty young vixen?"

Iyalis' scowl silenced Sukini, but the white vixen reluctantly nodded. "It is a concern."

Well, that was an understatement. Eren grimaced at the thought.

"You might find a wizard who could reshape you," Iyalis suggested. "The humans have accomplished some incredible things with their new magic."

Eren considered that for a moment, and shook her head. "I'd rather take the risky, definite approach than the risky, possible one," he explained, upon seeing her look of confusion. "I suppose that means retrieving your gem. Where do I look?"

The priestess remained silent for a long moment, her gaze boring into him. Measuring, he thought. At last, she nodded. "The Evenwold."

"The Grey are goblins?"

"The Grey use goblins. There will be others, too. Klavret, mephistos, natalan. Humans, probably; they always seem to be involved. Perhaps even elves. Be cautious."

"Don't worry." Eren sat up, then braced against the altar's surface, her head spinning.

Iyalis' arm was around her, supporting her, almost immediately. "You must rest, first," she murmured. "The change took a great deal out of you."

"I'm fine." And she was; the weariness was flowing out of her, now that she was upright. She felt... rather good, really. "But bring my clothes?" she added, after a glance downward.

Sukini did, and to Eren's surprise, the silver Amazon helped her into them, showing more patience than she'd have expected. Her clothes no longer fit quite properly: the shirt was tight across her chest, the trousers loose at the waist, the boots a little too large for her feet. At least she was still of a height with her old self, or close enough not to matter.

The silver vixen pressed a pouch into her hand. She raised an eyebrow, and she actually smiled. It threw him off balance. "You'll need better clothing, and probably supplies." Her voice remained cool, but he thought he detected a certain respect in it now that had been absent before. "We wouldn't have you go unprepared."

He continued to stare for a moment before becoming aware of the fact and tearing his gaze away. "Thank you."

She nodded, and it was Iyalis' turn to embrace her from behind. "May Veluna cloud the senses of your prey," she murmured into Eren's ear. There was that swift, spidersilk sensation again -- the one that was becoming all too common. But it faded even as she answered Eren's unasked question. "A small amount of protection for you, on your way. Be careful, Eren."

"I'll find you here?" she asked.

It was Sukini who answered. "Stand before the altar and speak Veluna's name. We'll come."

Eren nodded. Without another word, he turned and walked out. The sun was rising, now, and the way to the Evenwold would take him toward the dawn.

Behind him, a pair of vixens, one silver, one white, stood at the gate of the shrine, watching. They watched without a word until Eren had receded to a faint dark shadow against the rising light, and finally disappeared entirely from view.

Only then did the white turn to the silver and ask, "Are we doing the right thing?"

"No," Sukini answered after a moment. "We're doing what we must. Perhaps time will make it right."

"She should have stayed," Iyalis mused wistfully.

Sukini shrugged. "If she had, she wouldn't have been the person you needed."

*

It was dark by the time Eren reached the small border settlement, and she was happy enough to lay herself down before the fire. She'd given one of the foresters a few coins for the privilege, and a meal, and the simple stew, bread, and weak wine had been among the more satisfying meals she could recall. Hunger, they said, made the best sauce.

Eren's hunger was not for mere food, though.

She closed her eyes. The way was long, and she would need her rest.

The Grey would never know what had hit them.