Part 4
I woke up about two hours before sunrise, and found that I'd rolled to the edge of the bed. I blinked the sleep out of my eyes, ignoring the sharp twinge in my thighs as I got up. I glanced over at Isthar's prone form; she lay with one hand stretched out in my direction. She shifted, and mumbled as I slipped off the bed. I had good night vision, and it adjusted quickly enough for me to search for my clothing and pouch. Dressing swiftly, I set off through the door, pausing as Isthar grumbled again and then fell still. I experienced a convincing urge to just go back to bed; I could wake Isthar and get her to finger me, probably grease my asshole and give me a solid fuck. My cunt throbbed just at the thought of it. I pressed my lips tightly together and firmed my resolve: I had a job to do. I had to get paid, a reputation to uphold and all that.
As I stood outside Isthar's door, I recalled the impression of Marchel's shadow. In the center of my mind, I felt a very persistent tug: like a compass, it directed me to the left, and from the strength of the pull, I could tell that she was near. I slunk along the corridor, pausing twice when the watch made their rounds. I simply stepped back against the wall and let the shadows fold over my body, hiding me from sight.
Viosthar's door wasn't locked, for who would try to break into the room of the Jiyiō, right in the middle of this spire? I closed it behind me with nary a click and surveyed the huge bed in the center of the sizable room. Cool air drifted through the open, arched windows which overlooked the great plaza many levels below. I spotted Viosthar's nude bulk, and just as naked atop him, Marchel sprawled like a satisfied cat. When I took a step, Viosthar flinched as if I'd tossed dirt in his face, and I froze; and one muscular arm wrapped over Marchel's voluptuous body. She wriggled a little and then went quiet once more.
The big Dōsjinni obviously slept light, but I could move lighter. Taking another step, I raised my arms and swept them slowly through the air, coaxing the shadows to do my bidding. They came forth willingly and I directed them to pack themselves around Marchel. It was painstaking work, and all my concentration was bent on gently lifting his arm, high enough that I could began to float Marchel from atop him. I left a Marchel-shaped clump of shadows in her place and then stood still for a few beats. A slight frown had gathered between Viosthar's heavy eyebrows and for a moment I thought he would awaken. Then, his scowl smoothed out and I exhaled silently.
Turning, I gathered Marchel's sleeping form in my arms, wrapped and padded by a thin layer of shadows. I hurried to the windows and I don't know, maybe it was the cool of the night-breeze or the way I moved, but Marchel twitched in my arms.
"What--" Her voice was heavy with sleep, but when she turned her head and stared at up me, her eyes were wide and aware. "Viosthar!"
A thick roar rose from the bed behind me and I didn't give myself a chance to find out just how quickly the Dōsjin moved. I spun around, almost losing hold of Marchel as she tried to throw herself out of my grasp. I flung out one hand at Viosthar even as he leapt towards us. He almost got to me in that single bound, but the shadows under my power snagged his arms and legs. His body jolted in mid-air, and he thundered again as the shadows dragged him back. I thought I heard a thread of panic in his voice, but I had no time to ponder over that; I grabbed the struggling Marchel with both hands once more and hauled her out of a window, the edge of the stone sill scraping my leg.
She screamed as we fell, but the shadows had already begun to take care of us. They wrapped around my waist, anchored to the sides of the spire, and began to slow our descent. They released me as I touched down on the top of the stairs right in front of the main entry and I ran down them with Marchel thrown over my shoulder. As I sprinted across the plaza, the shadows flowed along the ground around us, keeping pace easily. The ruckus started up behind us, shouts and the war-cry of horns. Glancing back, I spotted a group of Dōsjin gathered atop the stairs, Isthar at the very front. She had a length of fur wrapped around her waist, as if she'd dragged it off our bed.
I stumbled at how I'd thought about that: our bed. That was my first mistake. The other one was to allow disbelief to rush through me as I watched Isthar notch an arrow into a bow. She drew it and pointed right at me without hesitation.
At the same time, Marchel gave a mighty heave and you know, I blame Isthar for everything that happened at this point. A thin whistle was my only warning and then the arrow buried itself into the back of my right shoulder. Crying out at the blast of pain, I let Marchel fall. She tumbled to the ground and shouted as she landed. I distinctly heard the sharp crack of a bone breaking and hoped that it wasn't in her neck. Humans were so frail.
In the midst of my pain and dismay, I lost control over the shadows.
Now, don't look at me like that, my friend: it happens. Well, it's happened to me before, but only under extreme circumstances, such as being shot in the shoulder with a very large arrow. I'll admit that my half-blood status might have something to do with it, but I'll tell you this: I'm leagues better at manipulating the shadows than any full-blood elf. Why, when I went to a shadow-elf stronghold after I left my mother's home and those snotty assholes refused to take me in because I was only a half-breed, I stole into their bastion with ease. I caused a good amount of damage, too; enough that they hired a dragon-mage to construct wards against me.
But, as I said, it happens. The unfortunate thing about uncontrolled shadows is that they can get hysterical. They simply don't know what to do, really. The ones around me reared up and then pounced on Marchel.
"Stop!" I cried at them, but they ignored me, piling on Marchel's naked form, wrapping tightly. She hadn't broken her neck, not from the way she tried to flail, but the shadows muffled her cries and I'm sure they began to stop her breath.
I didn't think. I reached over my shoulder and dragged out the arrow. Blood dripped down my back, and my vision blurred as I focused on the wooden shaft. For a brief beat, I felt dread's icy touch in the pit of my stomach as nothing happened; then, my blue flames erupted along the arrow, almost setting fire to my cape.
"Sorry, my dears," I muttered right before I thrust the bright light and heat into the twisting mass of shadows. They shrunk back and I managed to exert my control over them once more, sending them fleeing back to their proper places. Marchel, thankfully alive, struggled to sit up. She trembled, cradling her limp left arm with her right, gazing at me with wide eyes as I collapsed to my knees.
"Why?" she whispered as Dōsjin fighters stampeded up to us. "Why did you try to take me from Viosthar?"
"I was contracted to bring you home," I told her, and then curled up on my side on the ground because it seemed like a very good idea. "By your brother."
Her lovely face twisted in dismay and rage. "I won't go back to him! I ran away for a reason!" She set her jaw. "I am home!"
"There goes my deposit, then," I muttered and groaned as the Dōsjin seized me, and dragged me to my feet. They showed far more care to Marchel, wrapping thick swaths of cloth and fur around her. Then, they dragged me around to face Viosthar and Isthar, who stood there with matching stony countenances. "Oh. Hello there, sōheen."
It was hard to miss the intake of breath from everyone around us. Viosthar actually turned to give Isthar a long, questioning stare. Isthar's chin tilted up a fraction and she cut her gaze away from mine.
"Take her to the dungeons," she commanded. "Make sure there's lots of light. And get Coisha." Her tone was clipped. She turned away from me, and I got a bit angry at myself because I felt my heart sink as she walked away. Also, Coisha. If I'd known she was in the area, I would have never come near this damned spire. As I've said before, the majority of Dōsjin possess innate, implicit magic, but when they have direct abilities, they're strong. Dragon-mage strong, and Coisha was the best of them.
After all, she had been the mage to ward me away from the shadow-elf stronghold.
Continued in Part 5
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