Part 2
Nothing like a Dōsjin party, I tell you. Tables of steaming food, barrels of drink potent enough to melt your face and lots of soft surfaces to fuck on, if you wanted. I did have a show: Zorn the Amazing and Amusing had some talent with tricks and song, and I easily held the attention of the Dōsjin warriors. They laughed and roared with laughter at my lewd jokes, and I have to admit that I enjoyed myself. I don't mind having the attention of a crowd focused on me; that's probably more from my ogre side. Shadow elves are secretive as fuck.
Near the end of my show, the huge wooden doors at the back of the grand hall swung open and a Dōsjinni of great stature strolled in. He was huge, even among his own people. His black hair fell in long waves over his shoulder, a thick sheaf that fell almost to his waist. He had a wide brow, deep-set grey eyes and a broad jaw. The overall effect was one of brooding mystery, especially with his brown skin, dark like the polished rare wood imported from the eastern borders. He wore thick furs over his broad shoulders and his dark clothing had gilt edges.
A large silver amulet hung against his chest. My fingers itched to swipe it, but he'd probably break my hand as soon as I reached for the shiny thing. I've heard that certain Dōsjinni can move faster than a blink.
A human woman walked beside the big Dōsjinni, her arms folded into the large sleeves of her fancy blue gown. She was tiny beside him, the top of her head barely reaching the middle of his thick bicep. She possessed curves that were probably illegal in some of the more conservative areas; the neckline of her gown plunged almost all the way to her bellybutton, exposing the inner curves of her breasts. She had lovely brown eyes, a heart-shaped face and a tumble of shiny black curls set against the soft amber of her skin. This was Marchel, the kidnapped princess; I knew her by the thin collar of tattoos inked into the skin of her neck which Marce had described. Though there was a vague resemblance between the two of them, it was hard to believe this sweet-faced girl was his twin.
As I continued to amaze and amuse, I watched as the Dōsjinni led Marchel over to one of the seating areas, a low table surrounded by fluffy piles of pillows. Marchel didn't seem as terrified as Marce insisted she would be; she actually offered a small smile to the Dōsjinni as they settled down together. Isthar appeared out of nowhere behind them, bending to murmur in the male's ear. Her armour was gone, and she wore a loose, long-sleeved blouse and trousers. Isthar's gaze flickered up to me. She offered a small smile and I almost forgot what I was supposed to be doing; mostly because I could see right down the front of her blouse when she bent over like that, and her tits were fantastic: big and round, topped with dark nipples that looked as if they'd fit nicely in my mouth.
I struggled to regain my composure as she straightened up. A show was a show, after all. Keeping up a string of idle chatter, I picked my way over to Marchel and her companion.
"And now, for my final act!" I held my arms out to her. Marchel blinked up at me, before glancing at the Dōsjinni beside her.
"Viosthar, is it safe?" she asked in a quiet manner. I stared at her, surprised. Her tone was very trusting, and she addressed him as if she expected him to ensure her well-being.
"It is, sōheen." His voice was a confident rumble, and he smiled at her as he said that weird little Dōsjin word; it had a nice ring to it, that word. I resolved to learn the meaning of it before I snatched this girl and returned her to her village. In the middle of my resolution, Viosthar turned his grey gaze on me, and the threat in it was very readable: this trick of yours WILL be safe. I hoped my expression was calm and soothing, but I have to admit I was a little rattled. It seemed as if the enormity of stealing a princess from underneath the collective nose of the Dōsjin suddenly settled on my shoulders, but I threw it off. I'd get the job done, and my reputation would be so damned shiny, I'd probably have to steal it from myself.
Marchel gave me a very dubious glance, but she held her slender arms out to me.
"Sit right there," I told her as I grasped her forearms and let my magic seep out into the room, seeking out the shadows hidden under alcoves and in the ceiling. "Don't move."
See, there are many things people don't know about shadows. For example, shadows have characteristics specific to the person or thing they belong to. I can't explain it, it's like a sensation or a scent... or maybe both at once. All I know is that once I touch your shadow, I can find it again within a certain radius and time-frame. And if I can find your shadow, I can find you.
Another example: shadows have a tangibility which can be manipulated by shadow-elves, and I did that now, pulling them close to me and piling them under Marchel's bottom. She let out a surprised little sound as she rose up in the air, supported by nothing but wispy darkness. She laughed, looking down at Viosthar with shining eyes and the other warriors in the room released loud cheers. I grinned as I gave the command for her to be returned to her spot; at the same time, I touched those shadows nestled in the crook of her elbows, memorising the particulars.
The crowd of Dōsjin hollered as Marchel floated back down to her place. When I released her arms, she clapped very enthusiastically.
"That was wonderful!" she exclaimed and leaned into Viosthar's side, staring up at me with a broad smile. "Do you have any more tricks?"
"I am finished for now, for it is quite late," I told her, noting the way Viosthar put his arm around her shoulders, very gently for his apparent strength. "But if I am allowed, I will present more tomorrow!"
Marchel turned to Viosthar, one small hand twisting into the furs he wore. "I would like to see more. May the entertainer stay?"
Viosthar's arm tightened very slightly and then relaxed. "Of course. Isthar?" He turned a little, not quite looking over his shoulder. Isthar stepped forward. "Place the entertainer in our guest quarters."
"As you wish, Jiyiō," Isthar answered and looked at me with what seemed to be contemplative amusement. "If you would follow me, Zorn."
I trotted behind her as we exited the great hall and down a corridor, tall and wide. Small torches lit the way at regular intervals, firelight branding the stone walls. Despite the attempt at lighting, this spire had lots of shadows, and I nodded to myself in satisfaction.
"Isthar, what does sōheen mean?" I had to race to keep up with her; even though I was almost as tall and my stride should have matched hers, she moved like a swift breeze down the corridor. I was at a jog when I spoke, and my voice emerged breathlessly. She glanced at me, quirked one sweeping eyebrow and slowed her pace drastically.
"It means..." She wrinkled her nose for a moment. "It has many meanings, mostly endearments. 'Darling' or 'lovely'. It's a very old word, though. Powerful."
Interesting. "And is Viosthar your brother?" I grinned as she gave me a very long look out of the corner of her eye.
"You ask a lot of questions."
"It's all a part of my natural curiosity," I claimed, eyes wide in an attempt at guilelessness. "They're harmless questions, though. Much like me."
Isthar huffed, but answered: "Yes, he is my brother. As the first-born of the Dōsjin sovereignty, he is the Jiyiō. Not me." She stopped at a place where the corridor split into two: one path led onwards at the same level; the other climbed the sweeping curve of a wide staircase. She inclined her head to the smaller corridor. "The guest quarters are this way."
I reached out and grasped her elbow. "One more question," I said, stepping near. Her skin was warm under my fingers. "Are you really going to send me to the guest-rooms, and not take me to bed?"
I was close enough to see the narrow, vertical pupils of her eyes widen to almost completely consume the grey of her irises. The smile that spread across Isthar's mouth was predatory.
"Let's see how amazing and amusing you really are, then," she murmured, gripping my hand and pulling me towards the stairs.
Continued in Part 3
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