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Red Ribbon

Chapter 42

At Hawkeye's insistence, Yeneneshe was given a guestroom, complete with a meal and a bath, and was joined there later by the rest of the group once they were freed from the dungeon. She was surprised when Ettoras rushed to her and held her tight, so relieved was he to see her alive. She blushed to her hairline and hated it when Kayya glared at her, but Ettoras ignored Kayya and held Yeneneshe as if for dear life.

Yeneneshe was unhappy to see that the spotted dog was not with the others. Apparently, he had died in the cells after the captain shot him, and Palesa was a ghost of her former self, staring with vacant eyes and speaking only when Motsumi coaxed her to. Yeneneshe actually found herself feeling sorry for Palesa. She wished there was something she could do. And it must've hurt knowing that Wilmer could have been saved had Zeinara been able to do something. Zeinara was a child of Death, which meant she had power over life and death. She likely could have brought Wilmer back. But Yeneneshe doubted Zeinara knew how to control her power let alone the fact that she had it.

Simon treated them like guests, sending meals to their room and offering them an escort back to Wychowl. He also sent a servant with a message that offered Zeinara Captain Howlett's head for all the grief he had caused her. The captain was still alive and being held in the cells (alongside Tabitha le Frey) for Zeinara's convenience. Zeinara gave the note to Palesa and said that since the captain had hurt her the most, it was her choice. Palesa didn't say a word. She just took the note, and with wet eyes, tore it in halves and let it fall.

Yeneneshe understood Palesa's reaction: it was against a Guide's code to act in vengeance. When Zuu'ma caught Ti'uu in the arms of another, she sought vengeance on him, and for her fury, was cast down from Skkye. Or so the Guides said. As a result, the Guides vowed never to take vengeance on another, least they repeat the mistake of their goddess. Yeneneshe thought it absolutely ridiculous. Of all the beasts who deserved to die, Captain Howlett - the famous head hunter who had murdered foxes for a living - deserved it most of all.

Hawkeye also sent her thrall Guss with an invitation that Yeneneshe should join her the next morning in her quarters. She wanted to make Yeneneshe her apprentice and added at the bottom of the note that while married to Yeneneshe's brother, she had helped Mogethis to care for Yeneneshe and still thought of her as a daughter.

Yeneneshe didn't know what to make of Hawkeye's proposal. She couldn't remember ever knowing Hawkeye if, in fact, the witch was telling the truth about having known her as a child. But if Hawkeye truly had affection for Yeneneshe, then perhaps she could use it to her advantage.

Despite Simon's apparent allegiance with the witch, the marquis was smart enough to keep Hawkeye under close surveillance. He barred Hawkeye from approaching his guests and assured them that his "ally" would pose them no threat. He even went so far as to post guards outside their guestroom at all hours, for fear that Hawkeye might make an attempt on Ettoras' life. The last thing Simon wanted was to further anger Etienne by allowing his son to come to harm and he said so. But unfortunately for them, Simon also refused to give up the artifacts. When Zeinara approached him about the importance of returning them to the SummerValley, he pretended as if he hadn't the faintest idea what she was talking about, as if the stone and the dagger weren't locked in a safe somewhere.

They knew they had to get to the artifacts before Hawkeye did. The witch appeared to be sleeping with Simon and it was only a matter of time before he dozed off and she took the artifacts and disappeared entirely.

The group formed a plan. Zeinara pretended to accept to Simon's offer of an escort back to Wychowl, but the night before they were to depart, they would send someone to steal the artifacts from his bedroom as he slept, then make their way to the Summer Valley by use of the shrine beneath the manor.

Palesa was the first to volunteer, though Yeneneshe didn't think she should go. Palesa looked as if she wanted to die, and going up against Hawkeye would be, in her mind, a perfect enough death: she would die while fulfilling her duties as a Guide, while trying to protect the artifacts. Her gods would be pleased and she could be with Wilmer again. It was the perfect copout.

Pili also seemed to pick up on Palesa's sudden disregard for her own life. The assassin announced that she was going and that Palesa should stay behind to guard the others. As she spoke, she glanced anxiously at Palesa but hid her anxieties quickly once again behind the usual hard mask of determination.

"No," Yeneneshe said quietly and everyone looked at her. "They will be expecting you or Palesa. I should go."

Pili looked at Yeneneshe as if she were being impertinent and should be put in her place, and Yeneneshe looked at her defiantly. Yeneneshe was mostly concerned with the fact that Palesa's designs on suicide might allow Hawkeye to kill them and claim the artifacts. Pili seemed more concerned for Palesa's wellbeing, whether out of guilt or real compassion, Yeneneshe could not say.

They were all gathered in the extensive guestroom Simon had given them. Palesa was sitting on the edge of one of the immense double beds while Motsumi stood at the window, looking out at the sunny afternoon. Prince Florian sat in a chair beside the barren hearth, rounding off a glass of wine, while the black dog Shakir sat on the floor beside him, with his head against the prince's knee. Every now and again, Florian would stroke Shakir's long black mane with soft eyes. Zeinara paced back and forth before the desk with her paws in her pockets, and Pili stood in one corner of the room, arms folded, watching in irritation as the princess paced.

Yeneneshe was sitting at the desk near the bookshelves because she found the hard, straight, cushionless chair oddly comfortable. She had to stop herself looking around for Wilmer. It was odd, not having him there.

"You're crazy," Ettoras said to Yeneneshe in amazement. He stood near her shoulder, his golden wings quietly folded. Behind him, Kayya hovered against the bookshelf, holding herself as she listened to the others.

Kayya had been doing a lot of hiding behind Ettoras lately. She seemed so small and afraid, watching everyone in miserable silence, as if she was an outsider looking in. Since Yeneneshe had shattered someone's head, Kayya had been keeping her distance, wouldn't speak to her, and wouldn't look at her. She treated Zeinara and Palesa much the same. Zeinara had already displayed the power of Death when she sucked the life from the dog servant, and Palesa, when fighting Hawkeye, had been a demon of fury, casting Zuu'ma's yellow fire from her eyes as if she had walked from the bowels of some Hell. Motsumi had displayed a similar power, if not as effective because of his migraines at the time, and Kayya was still in shock, was afraid of her own companions. Yeneneshe thought it quite cowardly of her. She wanted to grab Kayya and smack some sense into her.

It hit Yeneneshe more than ever that Kayya and Ettoras were just cubs. She was only six years older than them, but the difference seemed greater the longer she was with them. They had grown up in a peaceful, nonviolent world of magic and light, where foxes probably weren't allowed to use their magic -- let alone physical violence -- to settle disputes. The two of them had likely never seen violence and bloodshed until they came to Aonre, though Yeneneshe thought Ettoras was handling it better than Kayya. Ettoras seemed glad to find himself surrounded by powerful allies, while Kayya was just plain afraid. But then, Ettoras had grown up in a palace with a powerful goddess for a mother. Yeneneshe supposed his quick adjustment made sense.

"He's right," Zeinara added, jerking her head at Ettoras. She stopped pacing, paws in pockets, and regarded Yeneneshe wearily. "You're crazy."

Yeneneshe's nose wrinkled. "Just listen to me! Hawkeye would_welcome_ the opportunity to speak to me. She's looking for my brother. She thinks I know where he is and she won't attack me if she catches me stealing the artifacts. She needs me."

Zeinara lifted her brows. "Hmm. Stringing the ol' girl along, huh? That could work."

Yeneneshe smiled at her, sharp fangs winking. "I learned from the best."

Zeinara smiled.

"But what does she want your brother for?" Palesa asked grimly.

Motsumi shook his head. "It doesn't matter. I can not allow you to go, Yeneneshe. It is too dangerous."

Yeneneshe frowned. "I wasn't asking your permission, old one. I am not Palesa. You do not control me."

Palesa slowly scowled, her eyes wet with unshed tears.

"Yen . . ." Ettoras softly scolded.

Yeneneshe glanced at Palesa again, remembered that she was grieving, and changed her tone, "I mean . . . I am the best option. Unless you would rather die, Palesa?"

Palesa's lips tightened as if she wanted to protest, but Motsumi touched her head, and her eyes dropped. Yeneneshe felt sorry for her in that moment. She looked so . . . helpless.

"She's right, Motsumi," Zeinara said reluctantly. "Yen is our best candidate -- because I'm not bloody-well going up there. What we need to discuss next is our exit strategy."

"You say this . . . stone," Pili's lip curled just to mention fox magic, "can take us to any place?"

"Any place we have been before," Motsumi confirmed. "But none of us have been to the SummerValley. We will have to use the shrine beneath Canderly regardless."

"I can help with that," Prince Florian said and raised a lazy finger. Yeneneshe scowled: he was drunk. "Jolly ol' Jule took me down there when he was blithering on about Maret," he added. "I still remember all the little symbols . . . told me one was for the valley and never to use . . . it . . ." His head dropped back against the cushion, and Shakir looked at him with concern.

Zeinara snorted. "You're a wreck. I doubt you could find your own cock, let alone guide us through the bowels of Canderly."

Frowning, Motsumi crossed the room to Florian and confiscated his flask. "I'll make certain his vision is adequate enough." He looked at Yeneneshe. "You just make certain you secure the artifacts."

Yeneneshe nodded, but she got the feeling Motsumi would find some way to accompany her and protect her. And she knew he was right for his concern. Though many of Howlett's soldiers had surrendered to Simon peacefully, there were still many out for her blood after what she had done to Howlett's lieutenant, who appeared to have been greatly loved by his subordinates. If they were to capture Yeneneshe, she wasn't entirely certain she could fight back. She would definitely not be able to blow off anymore heads. Truth be told, she had only displayed such powerful magic because she was angry and had been conserving her magical energy for such an attack for days. Now her energy was exhausted, and what dregs she had left would be put into an invisibility spell. Her success would depend entirely on playing to Hawkeye's affections.

Pili made an impatient noise. "This is absurd! I will not allow this crazy crusade to some magical fox glade! My objective is to take the princess and her brother hom --!"

"We're getting the artifacts!" Palesa practically screamed, and the entire room went still. She caught her breath as the angry tears flowed down her face. "This is what we are doing, dog. Wilmer - my Wilmer - will not have died in vain!" She snapped to her feet with a bounce of her gray mane. "And you can either get in line or get out of the way."

Palesa's eyes flashed with yellow fire, and as a tense silence filled the room, she and Pili stared each other down. Eventually, Pili swallowed hard and turn her flat eyes to the barren hearth. Satisfied, Palesa folded her arms and went to the window.

"Um . . . I guess that settles it," Ettoras said in a small voice. He placed a big paw on Yeneneshe's shoulder and gently squeezed. "Just . . . come back to me."

***

Yeneneshe found herself slipping invisible up the corridor with the words of Ettoras still ringing in her mind. "Come back to me," he'd said, so soft and so sad, so anxious that anything should happen to her. It reminded her of Naleli, who had always been weaker than her, more sensitive than her; who had been foreign and practically from another world. She wondered what Naleli would think of Ettoras. Would he approve of their unspoken love? Then she wondered why she needed Naleli's approval and she realized . . . he was technically her husband. She and Ettoras were both married to someone else. The sad irony made her . . . smile.

Yeneneshe could hear the music before she even reached Simon's bedroom. The sound made her heart soar, for it reminded her of the dancing and singing of her tribe. She could hear someone beating a drum in slow rhythm, and the little bells fastened to the drum were jingling in time. Two guards stood post outside the room, unable to see Yeneneshe, listening in amusement to the marquis as he encouraged his dancer on the other side of the door.

"Oh yes, just like that, darling," Simon moaned. "Shake your tail . . . harder _ _. . . Mmm."

"You like that, my darrrrling marquis?" Hawkeye purred.

"Not marquis," Simon corrected. "I shall be duke now that I have finally secured my brother's lands. With Jule's death, Father will have to acknowledge me as successor . . . Mm . . . rub your tail on my dick, my lovely . . . ah, yes, like that . . . Mmm."

Yeneneshe paused at the door. She wasn't sure how she was going to get inside without the guards noticing the door opening. Remaining invisible would be like holding a sneeze, and that was exactly how it felt when she clenched her fangs and roughly yanked the nearest guard's tail. The guard's eyes widened and he immediately glared at his comrade.

"What?" yawned the second guard, who hadn't noticed anything because he appeared to be sleeping on his feet.

"What d'you mean what!" demanded the first guard. "You yanked my tail!"

"I did not!" the other cried immediately.

"Look here, Sammy! I know you and most of the blokes around here like that tail stuff, but I don't swing that far 'round the bend!"

"You - how _dare_you! You know, I always wanted to punch your teeth in. The way you go on about me and Johnny in the sack --"

"Maybe if you didn't scream loud enough for the entire march to hear!"

"That does it!"

"Hey! Son of ah --!"

Yeneneshe held back a laugh as the two guards fell to brawling and crawled quickly between their legs as their grunts and growls sounded down the hall. The door opened with a slight creak, and then she was inside and shutting it behind her.

Candlelight filled the room with its soft shimmer, and the stifling heat of it made Yeneneshe pause. It was not unlike walking into a kitchen where the oven is still cooling. Yeneneshe knew the heat was not due to the candles themselves but to Hawkeye's magic. The entire room had a red mist that seemed to swirl in a dreamy haze. The bed was draped in red veils that blurred the candleflame on the other side of the room, but the veils were parted at the foot of the bed, and Yeneneshe paused at what she saw.

The witch was dancing on the bed, over the marquis, who lay under her with an erection that was thick enough to cause physical pain just from looking at it. Hawkeye and Simon were both naked, and - interestingly enough - Simon was tied to the bedposts with red ribbon. Hawkeye danced to the drum with slow seduction, snapping her tail back and forth, snapping her hips until her soft backside and breasts were jiggling. She had the sort of curvaceous body - jutting breasts and jutting buttocks -- that Yeneneshe thought would have made Zeinara cream.

Sitting on the floor at the end of the bed was Hawkeye's dog thrall, who stared with unseeing eyes as he repeatedly banged a drum. Yeneneshe silently cursed: she had let the invisibility spell fall from her before she had a chance to notice to him. He saw her squatting at the door but didn't really seem to see her. As Hawkeye continued her gyrating dance, Yeneneshe crawled up to the thrall and waved two fingers in his face. Nothing. He just kept beating the drum. Poor fool. What had Hawkeye called him? Gussy?

Hawkeye was waving a red ribbon as she danced, rubbing it in slow, sharp motions behind her shoulders until her high breasts snapped to the beat. She slowly knelt down, and with jiggling breasts, looped the ribbon around Simon's erection and rubbed it back and forth in a jerking, snapping motion that fell in time with the slow thrum of the drum. The rubbing made Simon swell against the fabric, and as she crawled through the room, Yeneneshe could see clear pre-cum dripping down his shaft. The penis wobbled as Hawkeye rubbed the ribbon harder, faster, and from the teasing, Simon grew even thicker and longer.

"Oh . . . oh, darling," Simon moaned and his toes curled. "Don't tease me . . . have . . . have mercy . . ."

Hawkeye laughed softly. Yeneneshe paused to watch as the witch tied the red ribbon back in the marquis' mouth, and then, with his muffled moans and protests filling the room, she fell to sucking slowly and hungrily on his erection. His tight, toned body tensed against his restraints. Hawkeye sucked him from base to head, pausing often to lick the helpless penis until it throbbed. She slipped her slender fingers into Simon's tight anus, and Yeneneshe could see him drooling around his gag when she closed her soft lips on him and sucked again tenderly, wetly.

Yeneneshe couldn't help it: she stopped to watch. Ettoras liked those things. And if she could make Ettoras curl his toes like that . . .

"Mmm! Mm!"

"I know, dear duke," Hawkeye whispered huskily. "But you taste so delicious." She pursed her lips in a kiss and spit a glob of drool on his penis, watching with narrowed eyes as it rolled down the shaft. Then she closed her mouth on him again and sucked slowly, her brows frowning, as if she were enjoying it as surely as he. She sucked him so wetly, so hotly, so tightly, that his body started to tremble.

Yeneneshe tore her eyes away and glanced around the room for the artifacts. But she couldn't stop wondering what it was like to do those things. Naleli and his lover were always making love, it seemed. That day with Zeinara and Kayya wasn't the first time she had walked in on them. Once she walked in on Naleli giving Neal a desperate blowjob that had paralyzed her in her tracks. They froze as well when they realized she was there. She stumbled backward out of the room with a red face, and all of them had pretended the incident had never happened. But she always wondered afterwards . . . what was it like? What was it like to give a male that pleasure? The heat of it . . . the smell of it. . . .

Yeneneshe finally spotted the artifacts. They had been left on the bedside table, of all places! Such a thing made it crystal clear that Simon McIntyre did not grasp the power and importance of the stone and the dagger.

"Mmmph!" Simon moaned.

When Yeneneshe looked up, Hawkeye had straddled the marquis and was lowering her sex over his erection. She was dripping wet, and the juices of her arousal oozed down his shaft and over his sack as her heat and moisture slowly enfolded him. His eyes hooded and another line of drool dripped from behind his red gag. The thrall was still playing the drum, and Hawkeye snapped her hips to the rhythm, as if she were dancing on Simon's cock. Her soft backside jiggled, her narrow back snapped, her nipples rolled as she made love to the marquis, who lay under her, tied to the bedposts and helplessly moaning.

Yeneneshe crawled under the bed and couldn't believe it. Was the dog really foolish enough to trust Hawkeye with tying him down? All Hawkeye had to do was grab the artifacts and walk out of Canderly, never to be seen again. Perhaps Simon hadn't a real idea just how powerful Hawkeye was. Or perhaps he really believed she was on his side. Which would make him simple after all.

Hawkeye rode Simon so hard, the bed was shaking before it was over. Yeneneshe heard the marquis moan and sputter behind his gag, and as he was coming, Hawkeye gave a shrill, breathless cry that said she was coming as well. The drum stopped as if on cue, and in the sudden silence, panting filled the room.

"Un . . . untie me," the marquis panted after a while.

Hawkeye laughed, and Yeneneshe could just imagine her twirling the red ribbon after having removed it from Simon's mouth. "My darling_duke_," she sang, "why on earth would I do that?"

"Because I told you t--!" sputtered the marquis angrily.

"Hush," whispered Hawkeye soothingly. "Sleep . . ."

The marquis moaned and was silent. And then the room fell still.

Yeneneshe went very tense under the bed, silently hoping against hope that Hawkeye would just go to sleep as well. Her heart skipped a beat when Hawkeye's paw reached under, curled like an ominous claw to scratch her. Yeneneshe barely had time to move. Hawkeye grabbed her by the mane and dragged her out, saying with a tinkling laugh, "Oh my! I've found a rat!"

Yeneneshe fell hard on her backside when Hawkeye released her, her scalp burning from the tug of those long, sharp claws. The witch sat on the edge of the bed in a transparent negligee with a transparent robe to match, regarding Yeneneshe with one cocked brow and one leg crossed over the other. Her long black nails winked in the candlelight as she pinched them together finger-to-thumb and appraised them. Yeneneshe thought her vicious yellow eyes were like the laughing eyes of a demon.

"What are you doing here, child?" the witch said in a bored voice. "Gussy - restrain her."

Yeneneshe swallowed hard when the thrall set aside his drum and obediently came her way, his breastplate jingling. He was wearing the roaring lion of Wychowl on his jacket, and Yeneneshe suddenly recognized him as having belonged to Wychowl's Honor Guard. The dog who used to force her to suck when she was prisoner in Wychowl, he had worn the same jacket, along with a golden cape.

The thrall sat on the floor behind Yeneneshe, and not only did he hold her arms behind her back, but he wound his legs in her legs, spreading them and holding her still. Clutched fast in the strong paws of the mastiff, Yeneneshe's breasts jutted as she was pulled back against his chest. She sat in his grasp with her legs forcefully spread, her deerskin skirt sliding its way up her thighs, and didn't think she could breathe. His fingers were so tight, they hurt.

"You're frightened," Hawkeye observed. "I like that you're frightened. Makes me feel . . . powerful. I suppose it's the same for males when they are dominating females." She smiled widely, the corners of her smile sliced by two pinpoint fangs. But the smile dropped as quickly as it'd come, and she coolly appraised her nails again. "What are you doing here, child? Speak."

"I came to take the artifacts from you," Yeneneshe said calmly. No point lying now. She spoke in their native tongue, and Hawkeye seemed to silently approve.

Hawkeye laughed. "At least you're honest. It's more than I can say for your brother."

"How did you know my brother?" Yeneneshe asked. She was trying to buy time while she figured out what to do, but at the same time . . . she really wanted to know. And Hawkeye seemed to sense that she wanted to know.

The witch smiled at Yeneneshe. "Oh . . . your brother." She closed her eyes and smiled dreamily. "Mmmm. Nkwe is very special to me. His tongue is incredible," she said, smiling when Yeneneshe colored up like an apple. "Best sex I've ever had in my life._And I have lived a _long time, child. I've been trying to find your brother for several years now. The goddess Zihma tasked me with avenging her child by killing the son of Azrian, the one who is your lover." She waited for Yeneneshe's reaction, but Yeneneshe kept her face smooth and impassive, determined not to give Hawkeye an inch. Inside, however, her heart was pounding with rage.

"In return for your lover's head," Hawkeye went on casually, "She of Sorrow has promised me your brother." Hawkeye tilted her head and regarded Yeneneshe curiously. "Tell me, what was it like, fucking Ettoras? Perhaps I'll have my way with him before I carve out his heart."

Yeneneshe's lips tightened and her blush burned brighter.

Hawkeye blinked in astonishment. "Come now!" she cried, unable to believe it. "Surely the handsome boy has tasted your soft, moist pussy! Has he not caressed your breasts, enfolded you in those beautiful wings? Has he not wrung cries of deepest ecstasy from your lips?"

"No!" Yeneneshe burst angrily and bit her lip. She hadn't meant to reply at all. She was shaking and didn't know why.

Hawkeye shook her head, still amazed. "Why on earth not? Oh, but he has tried, I am certain of it. Look at how you blush! He must've pawed you and you turned him away. But why? Was it too intense for your liking? Or did the poor boy deflate a bit too early? After all, you're a very pretty girl, Yeneneshe. I'm not sure any male would last very long around you . . . I could arrange a spell that would make him hard and strong for many hours. Perhaps put him under my thrall, bend his mind so that he ravishes you --"

"What! No!"

Hawkeye blinked as if she didn't understand Yeneneshe's horror. "But don't you want him to make love to you? Don't you want his touch, his kisses? I could teach you such things, my girl, that he would be your slave on bended knee. I could teach you how to make any male crawl through the dust for a glance of your eye. And all with something as mundane as a walnut."

"I don't want to learn that," Yeneneshe said in quiet disgust.

Hawkeye shook her head. "Then you are a fool, girl. If you commanded the same power as I, you would be standing, speaking to me as an equal. But have it your way: grovel at my feet." She looked away and plucked a piece of chocolate from a bowl on the nightstand. As she popped the candy in her mouth, Yeneneshe couldn't believe it: Hawkeye was hurt.

"I can't be your apprentice," Yeneneshe said apologetically.

Hawkeye nodded, though Yeneneshe thought her feelings were still hurt. She didn't look at Yeneneshe as she chewed the chocolate and examined her nails. Her brows were pinched together almost sadly. "I understand. You are given to your destiny. It needn't be that way, though." She shook her head, regarding Yeneneshe with something like disappointment. "You really are your sister's sister. Mogethis bowed to the gods as well. Mogethis believed in destiny and all that foolishness. She plays the obedient servant, but why be a servant to the gods? To blind spirits who are helpless in this realm? That's all they are - spirits! I do not serve Zihma, child. Zihma serves_me." Hawkeye smiled and popped another chocolate in her mouth. "She just doesn't _know it."

"I've made my choice," Yeneneshe said calmly.

"So you have," said Hawkeye with a shrug. "I understand. You are young. We all cast away grand opportunities for love when we are young."

Yeneneshe blinked. "I - I don't l-love Ettoras . . .!"

"Oh, but you do," said Hawkeye in amusement. "And he adores you. Of course you see it. One look into your mind and I have seen the way he looks at you." She took another candy off the nightstand and examined it. "But one day you will realize that what I so generously offered was far better than any fleeting feeling of butterflies and empty promises -- Dogs can't have chocolate, did you know that? It is poison to them. I had to stop dear Simon from eating a piece before it was too late." The witch turned the chocolate in her fingers. It was shaped like a turtle.

"Will you let me go?" Yeneneshe said.

"No," Hawkeye said at once. "You are mine now, girl. Do you understand? I will spare your precious Ettoras, but you will stay with me and be my ward. Little Yennie Yennie." She looked at Yeneneshe with soft affection. "You wouldn't remember me. You were so small the last time I held you."

Yeneneshe swallowed hard, wishing Hawkeye would stop staring at her with those bright, piercing eyes.

"And, my, how you've grown." Hawkeye drew her eyes away and lifted the dagger from the nightstand. She bowed her head and her dark mane looped forward over her shoulder as she twirled the weapon slowly in her slender fingers. "When I threw in my lot with Simon McIntyre, I never dreamed the fool would love me. He's the reason I was able to get to Tabitha. I was supposed to help him remove Tabitha and take Osterwill. I was also supposed to kill Jule." She smiled, not lifting her eyes. "I suppose I have your friends to thank for that one."

Pili is no friend of mine, Yeneneshe thought darkly.

"Everything I did - coming here, working with Simon, finding the artifacts - it was all for Nkwe. I thought if I could find Nkwe myself, I could make him a god, make myself a goddess. And we could live together . . ." Hawkeye lifted her eyes and looked at Yeneneshe with raw fear in her gaze. ". . . for all time."

Yeneneshe slowly shook her head. "But Zihma would punish such a betrayal," she said, as if confirming the witch's unspoken fears. "The gods would not welcome you in Skkye's halls . . . and you would not be invincible here on Aonre. You would die."

"Yes," sighed Hawkeye and set the Skkye Glass on the nightstand again. "Unlike others who would use the blade for such ends, I can see the folly of it. Yet you have not heard the entirety of my plan."

Yeneneshe shook her head, the back of her white mane tickling Guss' nose. "You just lectured me about love, but you do all this for love of my brother?"

Hawkeye's lip slowly curled. "Don't be absurd," she sneered. "I do not love_your brother. I just want . . ." She frowned sadly. ". . . a companion." On the bed behind her, Simon moaned in his sleep. "An equal, who understands me, who respects me. Respect is far greater than any whispers of _love."

Yeneneshe thought Hawkeye sounded a great deal like Mogethis in that moment, despite all her criticisms of her sister.

"So you intend for the three of us to be a happy little family?" Yeneneshe said, trying and failing to keep the anger from her voice. "Nkwe as your husband, I as your daughter?"

"And why not?" Hawkeye said, sincerely baffled by Yeneneshe's objection. "I have never been able to have a child of my own. I failed Nkwe's brother - your brother - when I could not make him children. You, my precious lamb," she said, looking at Yeneneshe with soft eyes, "you were the closest I ever came to motherhood. How you used to giggle and play with me, so warm and soft near my breasts. And you would deny me now? I have spent years looking for you and for Nkwe. I spent _years_trying to find you --!" She choked to silence as a tear gathered in her eye. But she swallowed the sadness down and looked at Yeneneshe with determination. "The three of us could live as gods! Are you so blind? We could live as gods in paradise, in a place called the SummerValley."

Yeneneshe went very still.

"I know you and that old fox are heading there," Hawkeye continued, looking Yeneneshe directly in the eye, prying her mind for its secrets. "Jule has a shrine under the manor, but the portal will not open for me! Tell me how to open it . . . and I will give you the stone."

Yeneneshe's lips parted in surprise. ". . . .what?" She didn't know what else to say. Hawkeye was delving into her mind, and it was not unlike having Ettoras inside her again, prodding deep under her tail, and she unable to escape the pain of it. She felt her body clench, felt her breasts heave for breath as Hawkeye continued her probing, but she managed to keep her mental defenses strong, and Hawkeye looked at her in frustration.

"Tell me how to get to the SummerValley," Hawkeye repeated impatiently, "and I will give you the stone to give to your petty little friends. Don't you see? So long as I have the dagger, I do not need the stone! I will become a goddess!"

Yeneneshe's lips tightened. "I do not know that place."

Hawkeye's yellow eyes narrowed in a glare. "You are lying."

"No," Yeneneshe said calmly. "I really do not --"

"SILENCE!" Hawkeye screamed, and Yeneneshe bit her tongue when she felt the floor tremble beneath her.

Yeneneshe went very still, the fear thrumming through her. Hawkeye already had enough power to rival a goddess. She certainly didn't need more.

"I know," Hawkeye snarled, her lip curling, "that you and your little friends are seeking the place of Lost Dreams. I see it on the surface of your mind. You think taking the artifacts there will protect them. But I do not seek to wield the artifacts against the gods, nor do I seek to rule Heaven. What do I care of the gods and their petty schemes? Tell me how to open the portal, and I will spend my eternity hidden away there. I . . ." She blinked out a tear and swallowed hard. "All I want is Nkwe. Do not be my daughter if that is your wish."

Yeneneshe didn't know what to say. Hawkeye's feelings were truly hurt and she found herself wanting to comfort her. It suddenly seemed as if Hawkeye cared more about her than Mogethis ever had! Yeneneshe's mind searched for comforting words, but she needn't have bothered: the door burst open to reveal Captain Howlett, who stood framed in the doorway in filthy longjohns and bloody bandages. Hawkeye scowled, but before she had a chance to utter a word, Howlett lifted a shotgun and blew her away. Blood spattered the air as Hawkeye screamed and tumbled over on the bed. Yeneneshe screamed Hawkeye's name. She could see the witch twisting, could hear her choking as she cried weakly and pitifully, "Gussy . . . G-Gussy, help me!"

Without a word, Guss immediately let Yeneneshe go and went to Hawkeye. He didn't seem the least bit perturbed by Captain Howlett, whose attention was now focused entirely on Yeneneshe.

Yeneneshe's heart thudded as Howlett quickly stamped her way. His boot hit her face before she had a chance to move. Stars exploded before her eyes. She tumbled over as her nose crumpled and hot blood filled her nostrils. She couldn't breathe. Pained and breathless, she tried to crawl away, blood running down her face.

"Lucky for me," Howlett growled, "some of my boys are still loyal_to their captain." He fumbled to reload his shotgun, watching with a sneer as Yeneneshe gave up and dropped on the carpet. "Only had to _wait for them to let their captain out. Only had to wait."

As Yeneneshe lay on her side trying to clear the blood from her nose, she could see Simon's arm twisting against its restraint. The marquis was awake and very angry, practically roaring in hoarse rage. Through the veil of spots dancing before her eyes, Yeneneshe could also see Guss leaning over Hawkeye and applying pressure. The witch clutched at her bloody throat, and the fact that she'd survived a gunshot there was a miracle in itself. Hawkeye's limp tail was hanging over the bed, and blood was dripping down the sheets. Her sputters sounded like death rattles.

"You son of a whore!" Simon growled. "You will hang for hurting her - hang!"

"I used to exterminate you vermin," the captain went on, ignoring the marquis. "Made a pretty penny hanging your skins on the walls of nobles. Then one day," he grabbed Yeneneshe by the mane and forced her to sit up, ignoring her cry of pain, "our faggot king decided you foxes were too precious for skinning. Now look at you! Oozing your way into our lives like rats, like poison." He jerked his head at the bed. "Twenty years ago, a McIntyre wouldn't have been caught dead with a filthy vixen whore in his bed. Now the savages conspire with princes and kings. They have forgotten you are but simple beasts. The world has forgotten."

"I don't care for your whining, dog," Yeneneshe sneered, her teeth stained with blood. His rough fingers in her mane were killing her, and he was pulling her head back so far, her face was to the ceiling. Tears sprang to her eyes as she tried to ignore the pain, and she hated herself.

Howlett's face darkened. "Then I'll make this short." He threw Yeneneshe away from him, and as she fell against the nightstand with a pained cry, he lifted his shotgun and aimed at her face. "This is for my br --"

Yeneneshe watched with her mouth open as Howlett's head exploded in little red pieces. She looked around, fully expecting Hawkeye to be standing over her with a smirk. She went still to see Kayya standing there instead, a red ribbon of blood running from her nose.