Blood & Fur

Chapter Forty-Three: The Warrior Queen

Chapter Forty-Three: The Warrior Queen

“It could mean anything,” the Jaguar Woman said.

“It could mean anything?” Iztacoatl’s mocking laugh echoed in the Abode of Darkness. “Do you hear yourself, sister? He said death to those who defied him and worse to those who betrayed him. As far as prophecies go, this one sounds pretty clear-cut to me.”

“It could mean anything,” the Jaguar Woman hissed between her teeth. “We will spin this prophecy however we need.”

“Not all prophecies come to pass either,” Sugey replied. “We have dealt with this once before, we can do so again.”

Iztacoatl remained skeptical. “What if he never goes back to his cage?”

I listened to their argument, my smile hidden under my bat mask. The First Emperor’s words had shaken the Nightlords to their core. I wondered if Eztli shared in my relish. I could hardly see her expression under her hood and mask, and she wisely kept herself from interrupting the sisters’ argument.

Another rain of blood had struck the plaza after my prophecy; an ominous sign if there was ever one, though it gave the Nightlords an excuse to end the ceremony early. They had all but dragged me down into their underground Abode the moment we returned to the palace to check on me with their magic. They had discovered nothing unusual, which frightened them all the more.

I knew the truth they so desperately wanted to avoid accepting. The Nightlords had spent centuries pretending that Yohuachanca’s emperors were their Dark Father’s spokesperson and representative on Earth. They had repeated that lie again and again until it became true. The same faith that allowed Eztli to fill in for their dead sister had allowed their imprisoned maker to speak through me.

I was under no delusion that it made us allies. The First Emperor was hunger incarnate and the source of the vampire curse. As far as I was concerned, he was an enemy of my enemy. Nothing more.

But I would be lying if I said I didn’t enjoy helping him strike fear in his arrogant daughters’ hearts.

“He said that the heavens will weep tears of blood,” Iztacoatl said. “He no doubt meant the rain that spoiled our ceremony. The dawn bereft of light fits with the increased length of nights.”

“Which leaves the true children’s feast and the restless dead rising,” Sugey noted. “I suspect the first refers to the bats plaguing the livestock.”

So you do not consider yourself his ‘true’ children? I wisely kept that question to myself. Everything pointed to the Nightlords being their father’s blood daughters, but I might be missing a piece of the puzzle.

“Are the corpses of their victims well-guarded?” Sugey asked.

“They are, though none have risen,” the Jaguar Woman replied. “Post guards around graves too. We shall take no chances.”

“What of him?” Iztacoatl turned her attention towards me. “Should we keep him close?”

I tensed up as the Nightlords suddenly remembered my existence. Eztli found the courage to open her mouth. “If I may–”

“Quiet, child,” the Jaguar Woman sharply interrupted her. “You are allowed to stand with us by the will of fate, not our own. Learn, and then one night you may lead.”

I sensed Eztli’s frustration from here. As an actor filling in for a dead ruler, she earned from the Nightlords the same respect I held for her body double: none at all. She was a figurehead as powerless as I was.

“Should we cancel the religious festivals?” Sugey asked. “I can subjugate the mountain people on my lonesome too, if we must keep him away from the battlefield.”

“We cannot afford to look weak.” The Jaguar Woman spat the last word like an insult. “Not now, not ever. An emperor who cowers and hides in times of crisis will invite attacks from our enemies.”

Trapped between a rock and a hard place? With the Sapa war on the horizon and the disasters plaguing Yohuachanca, the Nightlords had no choice but to parade me around to show everyone that everything was going according to plan.

However, the calculating looks that Iztacoatl sent me did not inspire confidence in me.

“Have faith, sisters,” she said with a dark chuckle. “I suspect that our foes will come to fear our emperor of darkness.”

I clenched my teeth. I suddenly realized that foreign spies would no doubt send word of tonight’s grim miracle to their masters. How would the Sapa Empire and the Three-Rivers Federation react once they learned that a dark god spoke through me?

The Jaguar Woman pondered her sister’s words, then nodded at me. “Iztac Ce Ehecatl,” she said sharply. Her mere voice caused my spine to stiffen. “With the foreign intruders having been purged from our ranks, the palace should be safe for you once again. You shall be allowed to partake in the luxuries previously denied to you.”

I bowed to better hide the disgust in my eyes. “The goddesses are merciful.”

“However, you are to report any divine message the moment you receive them,” the Jaguar Woman insisted. I sensed the subtle, invisible touch of her Doll spell closing on my throat, ready to strangle me at the first sign of defiance. “Any vision, any dream, any prophecy. Do not, and you shall be severely punished. Do you understand me?”

“I do,” I replied, lying through my teeth. “I have not forgotten your last lesson, goddess.”

Thankfully, I knew how the Jaguar Woman thought by now. Being reminded of the last time she cruelly disciplined me mollified her overbearing pride. I sensed the hold on my throat loosen up, and I was allowed to exit the chambers unmolested.

Eztli and I managed to exchange one last look as the Nightlords dismissed me. I so dearly wished I could speak to her in private and promise her that we would find a solution together, but now was not the time.

Moreover, I could tell that Iztacoatl wasn’t fooled by my submissive behavior in the slightest. She would keep watching me.

Tayatzin and my guards brought me back to my room in dreadful silence. My new advisor showed none of his previous confidence in my presence. The red-eyed priests had only paid lip service to the idea of my godhood beforehand. They pretended that I was a sacred figure while knowing very well who truly ruled the empire.

Now? Now that they had heard a true god speak through me, they had come to truly believe; and faith was power. Being a godly messenger meant that my words and actions would receive greater scrutiny than before, but it could also prove an opportunity. The right prophecy at the right moment might sow discord among my foes.

I would need to discuss this with my predecessors as soon as I could. I would visit them tomorrow morning now that I could move about freely in the palace once more.

My maids removed the awful cloak of skin off my person upon returning to my chambers. I felt the mask latch onto my skin for a brief instant as my servants touched it, but it let go of my skull nonetheless. The First Emperor seemed reluctant to relinquish his mouthpiece. I better avoid tempting him again in the future.

“Will…” Tayatzin cleared his throat as the maids changed my clothings. “Will Your Majesty request company tonight?”

I pondered his question. I wasn’t particularly looking forward to female companionship after sharing a blood bath with Iztacoatl, but she did warn me that a woman a day would spare me the lash. Keeping up the charade would both pacify her and give me an excuse to meet with an ally without arousing suspicion.

And I knew exactly who to call on.

“Summon my consort Chikal,” I said. “Now that the palace has been purged of Sapa spies, we can resume our campaign planning.”

My answer broke through Tayatzin’s caution and earned a chuckle out of him. “Does Your Majesty never rest?”

“Not when our foes nearly killed me and tried to destroy my empire,” I replied tersely. “The First Emperor promised his enemies death, and his will shall be done.”

Tayatzin paled at my words, his easygoing smile swiftly turning into a scowl. Amusing. I should speak in a god’s name more often.

“Can any of my consort’s amazon attendants sing and dance?” I asked. “If so, then bring them too. I wish to hear Chilam’s songs at least once before I die.”

“As Your Majesty wishes,” Tayatzin replied before hurriedly leaving to fetch Chikal for me. Hopefully her amazon servants should prove a better spectacle than Nightkin dancing under a ceiling of flayed corpses.

Chikal arrived a few minutes later alongside half a dozen amazonian bodyguards. None of them were allowed to carry weapons inside my quarters, though they looked no less fearsome with their bone flutes, skin drums, and clay ocarinas. I could have easily mistaken them for a military parade.

Chikal very much looked like a queen too. She still wore the exotic feather dress themed after the Nightlord Sugey, alongside a golden choker, a diadem, and moon-shaped earrings. Emerald rings bound her red hair into a high ponytail cascading down her back. Her calculating eyes set on me with a hint of unease. Chikal was adept at hiding her true thoughts—far better than me—but even she seemed shaken by tonight’s events.

“Our Lord Emperor stinks of blood,” Chikal said with stark bluntness.

“Those of my enemies.” I wished I could say it was a figure of speech instead of the gruesome truth. “I hope that this period of confinement did not dull your skills, Chikal.”

“With all due respect, I should ask you the same.” She studied me carefully. “Would you care for a brief spar to check?”

Her blunt and unexpected proposal took me aback. “A spar?” I repeated. “Here and now?”

“Hand-to-hand,” she said with a wary and impenetrable stare. “Nothing serious. I simply wish to ascertain your progress.”

Ah, so that’s how it is. I could read between the lines. Chikal had guessed that I had indeed slain Yoloxochitl somehow, but she only respected strength. She needed me to showcase my power. I had an idea of how to do that without raising suspicion.

“Very well,” I decided before glancing at the amazons. “Make space.”

I half-expected the amazons to complain about taking orders from a male, even one with the power to execute them with a word, but they wordlessly moved my dining table to a corner after receiving a short nod from Chikal. They then took off my belongings until only my loincloth remained.

Chikal hastily removed her feather dress herself and kept little more on than a cotton shirt. I guessed she wished to rid herself of that awful costume as much as I did my skin cloak. Her mighty muscles strained as she adopted a fighting stance. Though I had quickly gained in mass thanks to her training, better nutrition, and consuming godly embers, I was still months away from matching her.

Chikal immediately attacked me without warning. Her left fist moved faster than a jaguar’s claw and aimed straight for my head. She wasn’t giving me any mercy; and neither did I. I quickly dodged the blow and retaliated with one of my own. If Chikal’s smile was any indication, she appreciated my improvements.

We traded a few punches back and forth, neither of us truly giving our all; Chikal because she probably worried about hurting me in a way that would cause her to be punished, and I because I didn’t want to reveal too much of my abilities.

I eventually grew weary of this dance. I saw my chance to end it when Chikal asked to review my defensive stance. I raised my arms to protect myself from her punch the same way I had been taught to.

My Bonecraft spell activated the moment Chikal’s fist hit me.

To the outside world, it seemed as if I had simply parried Chikal as she ordered me to. The true battle took place hidden from spying eyes under our skin. I didn’t even need to summon a Veil. Chikal’s eyes widened in shock as she sensed my sorcery spread to her body the moment we made contact. My will invaded her flesh through my hands like weeds taking root in fertile ground.

I had so many ways to kill her: crush her ribcage in on itself; turn her skull into a spiky cage impaling her own brain; shatter her spine into a thousand pieces. I could have ended her life in an instant.

I did nothing of the sort.

Instead, I showed restraint and immediately canceled my magic. So subtle was its activation that no one noticed it; no one but Chikal herself. She knew I could have snuffed out her life like candlelight.

Chikal quickly broke past my guard, grabbed my left arm, and then forced me to my knees with a hand on my shoulder. I caught a glimpse of a mix of rage and interest in her eyes. She resented the fact that I’d held back against her and thus sullied her victory as much as my subtle display of supernatural power impressed her.

“You win,” I said.

“Your Majesty still has much to learn,” Chikal replied with calculating eyes. I could tell she was considering a hundred ways to respond before settling on the plain and diplomatic. “But you are quickly making progress. I am impressed.”

She knew that I had grown in power since we last met. “I have the goddesses to thank for it,” I replied insincerely. “I did not slack off either.”

“No doubt.” She released her hold on me, her hands covered in my sweat. “Your enemies will learn to fear your might, Iztac.”

“They will, in time.” I held her gaze, knowing very well that she wasn’t speaking of my physical strength. “Now that the Sapa’s spies among us have been rooted out, we must proceed with the campaign’s preparations.”

Chikal narrowed her eyes at me. “Would Your Majesty mind if we discussed it in the baths? Tonight’s ceremony and our spar have left me sweaty. I would like to clean myself and relax.”

“I see no objection.” She catches on quickly. “I do look forward to a dip myself.”

So long as it didn’t involve blood.

A few minutes later, I slipped inside a warm hot bath. The perfumed steam and salt-rich waters immediately dulled the exhaustion in my muscles. I immediately felt purer. The clean waves washed away the sticky sensation of dried blood on my skin. I let the liquid splash on my face and hair to better forget the way Iztacoatl touched both of them.

Chikal’s handmaids began to play a song that resonated across my bathroom. One of them brought a bone flute polished to a sheen to her lips and whistled an aggressive melody. Another joining in with a conch shell trumpet and a third with an ocarina while the rest beat river turtle shells like drums.

All in all, I found the Chilam tribe’s music more aggressive than that of Yohuachanca’s. The amazons favored deeper percussion and faster rhythms than their conquerors. None of them danced either. These people weren’t concubines desperate to please me and catch my eyes. Their pride remained unbroken in spite of their captivity.

It was fine by me. The noise they produced drowned out my and Chikal’s voices. Sigrun managed to cover our discussions by having her daughters play the harp, so this should provide us with a degree of privacy.

Chikal herself joined me in the bath a minute later and sat at my side. Her amber eyes appraised me carefully, then darted around the room. Only when she became certain that no one would hear our discussion over the music and sound of running water did her curiosity finally overwhelm her.

“You killed her,” she muttered in my ear. “The Flower of the Heart. You killed her.”

I did not deny it. “I told you that I would.”

Chikal studied my expression, searching for any hint of deceit. I guessed she still wondered whether I had done the deed or simply taken credit for it. When she found no crack in my stony confidence, she finally accepted the truth.

“How did you accomplish this?” she asked me cautiously.

“That, I cannot tell you,” I replied. The less people knew about my abilities, the better. “You won’t be able to use my method anyway.”

“Because I cannot do magic?” Chikal took my silence as confirmation. “When we fought in the courtyard, you whispered words under your breath and the wind started blowing to cover our conversation. I sensed you quelling your bloodlust tonight too. You could kill me in an instant if you wished, though I am stronger and quicker.”

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“A fact that leaves you distressed,” I noted.

Chikal snorted in disdain. “There is no greater shame among my kind than to be spared by a male.”

“If it can reassure you, neither of us were allowed to truly fight,” I replied, wording my sentence carefully so it wouldn’t sound like pity. Chikal might take it for condescension otherwise. “I have yet to see you come at me with the intent to kill.”

“Would your magic slay me before I cut off your head?” Chikal crossed her legs under the water. “If the Nightlords haven’t quartered you yet, then you must have murdered their sister in a way that would hide your involvement.”

She was sharp, as always. “What does that make me, in your mind?”

“A sorcerer of great power,” she replied cautiously. “A dangerous foe to have.”

“I would have preferred that you call me an ally.” I could hardly blame her for maintaining a professional distance considering the risks involved, but I had no time for fence-sitters. “I did not call you here to boast.”

Chikal nodded sharply at me. “I told you that I would not help you in your plot against the Nightlords… but that I would likely change my mind if you somehow managed to kill one.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Have you?”

“Truthfully, I did not believe that you would succeed,” she admitted. “I made you that promise because anything that weakened Yohuachanca would help my sisters in Chilam. Now that a sister is dead and the pyramid wavers…” She crossed her arms. “What do you want from me, Iztac?”

I looked into her eyes. “Everything.”

“That, you will not have,” she replied without blinking. “I serve Chilam first and its people second. You shall not have either.”

This woman was no Necahual, that’s for sure. She knew what she was worth and wasn’t afraid to try and leverage her help for a better deal. The more I showed weakness, the less she would concede.

“Your bargaining position is highly dubious,” I replied sternly. “I am your only hope of saving either.”

“I won't trade one master for another,” Chikal countered with queenly pride.

“I do not want a slave.” I already had plenty of those. “I want an ally. I want your assistance, I want your resources, I want your mind, your strength, and your soldiers. I want you to kill who I want you to kill, be where I want you to be, and lead your army in my name if need be.”

“You are quite greedy for a caged bird.” Strangely, I didn’t pick up any disrespect in her voice. Quite the contrary, she appeared cautiously impressed by my confidence. “Your edge has sharpened. Was it that woman’s execution?”

“Her death and so many others.” The war, the eruption, and Qollqa’s murder had all hardened my resolve. “I’m done with half-measures, Chikal. Either you board this ship now or I will sail forward without you. You may pray that I succeed and weep if I do not.”

I desperately needed allies, but if she was going to nitpick over everything then I might as well look for more secure partners.

I was confident she would try to negotiate. Chikal was smart enough to realize that she would die by the year’s end if I couldn’t defeat the Nightlords, so it was in her personal interest to help me. The opportunity to free her city from Yohuachanca’s yoke might never present itself again.

“Before I answer you, I want you to answer a question,” Chikal said, her tone wary. “What happened atop that pyramid? The voice that spoke through you… it sounded like you had become a demon.”

If only she knew I was well on my way to becoming one. “Would you believe me if I said it started out as a prank?”

Chikal stared at me in disbelief, then laughed heartily.

I hardly recalled hearing my consort laugh at anything. Witticisms hardly ever earned more than a bemused smile. Even the musicians stopped playing, so surprised were they by her sincere and unexpected reaction.

“My apologies,” she told the singers before covering her mouth and stifling her laughter. “Keep going.”

The amazons exchanged stunned glances, but returned to their song quickly enough. Chikal gathered her breath after regaining her composure. I took her reaction as a good sign.

“A prank?” Chikal repeated with a bemused smirk. “The rain of blood that followed would attest otherwise.”

I scoffed. “Do you believe that the Nightlords are gods?”

Chikal shrugged. “No true god can die.”

A wise take on the matter, albeit a wrong one. “The First Emperor exists, but he does not support this empire,” I explained. “The Nightlords usurped his name and leech off his power. Now that they have lost prestige with Yoloxochitl’s demise, he made his anger known.”

“Interesting,” Chikal replied. She seemed slightly disturbed by my tale, but not truly afraid either. Either she underestimated the First Emperor or she was still assessing the threat he presented. “Is he your ally then?”

“He is an enemy of an enemy. I would not count on him to destroy the Nightlords for us.” The sisters would not be so foolish as to loosen their hold over his prison again. “He lent me his voice and little more.”

Chikal snorted in disbelief. “You say that as if it was no miracle in itself, Iztac. I do not recall a shaman among our people who has caught a god’s eye, even one as sinister as Yohuachanca’s patron deity.”

I shrugged my shoulders. I would rather have one less vampire to worry about, and the First Emperor was a long-term problem anyway.

“I have answered your question, now you will answer mine,” I declared boldly. “Will you be my ally, or stay a fence-sitter?”

Chikal stroked her chin and observed me with a blank stare. I needed no spell to read her mind. She carefully weighed my odds of success, assessed the risks involved, and considered whether or not she could trust me. I had gambled much by giving hints of my true power to her, but our interests were aligned for now. She had seen firsthand that the Nightlords did not reward loyalty. She had little to gain from not sponsoring me, and too much to lose.

After a moment, Chikal finally gave her verdict.

“You will do,” she said.

I suppressed a victorious smirk. Our negotiation wasn’t over yet and I expected a counteroffer.

“I want three concessions,” Chikal said with three fingers raised. “Give them to me, and I shall work for you in any way that does not conflict with those conditions.”

I could already guess a few of them. “State your terms, and I shall consider them.”

“First, I want Chilam to become free and independent from Yohuachanca. I want you to safeguard my people’s interests when you truly come to rule the empire.”

Her wording confused me. “When I will truly rule the empire?” I repeated. “I do not understand.”

Chikal looked at me. “You have not considered what you will do after destroying the Nightlords?”

I shook my head. Defeating the Nightlords was my only goal for now. Whatever would follow their downfall would be better than their rule.

“You should give it some thought,” Chikal scolded me. “A good warrior thinks of the peace that will follow the war, for what is he fighting for otherwise?”

“Survival,” I replied frankly. “And freedom.”

“You can aspire to more than either, Iztac,” Chikal replied, her expression unreadable. Did she believe I was lying, or was she trying to assess if I shared my slavers’ ambitions? “The Nightlords rule through strength. If you destroy them, then you will become the strongest in turn. You may find yourself becoming the emperor others pretend you to be.”

“I don’t care about thrones, or Yohuachanca.” I cared about my freedom and the handful of people I loved. “But fine. If I am ever in a position to secure your city’s emancipation, then I shall return its freedom.”

“Good.” Chikal allowed herself to smile. She trusted my word. “Next, if you are ever caught, you will not mention my name. You will take the fall for any help that I have provided you.”

I thought as much. “I expect the same from you.”

“Only if you promise to return my city’s freedom and prosperity to my successor, whoever she will be.” Chikal clenched her fists. “Do you?”

“I do,” I replied without hesitation. If I failed, I could at least ensure that she would continue to sabotage Yohuachanca for what little time she had left to live.

“Then I shall carry your secrets to my grave.” Chikal’s smile turned almost feral. “As for my third concession…”

Her hand lunged for my chest faster than a jaguar on the hunt.

Her fingers pushed me back against the marble edge before I realized what was happening. Chikal leaned over in a way that could pass for erotic, but she applied enough pressure with her palm to keep me down.

“In Chilam, males like you are slaves fit only for work or to father daughters,” Chikal told me with no small hint of disdain. “As Queen, it was my duty to perpetuate my line with the most fit of specimens. I had my pick of captive warriors to choose from. Men of strength and character.”

Her expression twisted into a dark scowl that would have terrified many warriors.

“So imagine my humiliation,” Chikal rasped with seething hatred, “When these so-called gods decided to make me a slave to a diseased puppet emperor, frail, weak, and unfit for war.”

This was the real Chikal hiding under her careful facade of regal composure; a ferocious amazon warlord with the pride and ferocity to match. The Nightlords had thought her tamed, yet she remained unbroken. She had only been biding her time to let the beast out.

“I have despised you the moment I lay eyes upon you, Lord Emperor,” Chikal confessed. “Can you fathom the shame I felt at the thought of you touching me, raping me, and befouling my lineage with your diseased brood? I would have rather taken a lover among your guards if they hadn’t lost their manhood.”

“Is that what you want?” I asked with a snort. As much as her taunts annoyed me, I remained focused on the potential alliance. “That I do not touch you for the rest of the year?”

I could live with that. My palace housed more concubines than the year had days. I didn’t need Chikal for her skills in bed, but for her resources and influence.

Chikal’s widening smirk made me doubt my assessment.

“Oh, you misunderstand my point, Iztac. I said that a puppet’s touch was unfathomable to me.” Her hand traveled down my chest and closer to my navel. “Now, a nightslayer’s seed is something else…”

Chikal leaned in so close to my face that I could smell her warm breath on my lips.

“I want a daughter, Iztac,” she softly whispered in my ear, “and I want her before the Scarlet Moon.”

I froze in place, my mind struggling to listen to what my ears told me. I stared at Chikal, half-expecting her to burst out laughing and confess it was a mere joke. She didn’t.

“You are serious,” I said in utter disbelief.

“Do you doubt my resolve? My word is my bond. I do not give it lightly.” Chikal let go of my chest. “That is my final demand, Iztac: a daughter of your blood who shall rule Chilam after me.”

A daughter. The word echoed in my head like a malediction. I had an unborn child once. The Nightlords burned it with its mother in their Sulfur Sun.

Chikal’s demand made some degree of sense. As a foreign queen with only one year left to live, she had few options left to perpetuate her lineage. I had sufficiently impressed her with my strength and magic to count as a worthy candidate to sire a princess; Chikal probably hoped that my daughter would also inherit my Nahualli power. I was almost flattered.

However, she had forgotten one important detail: an emperor’s daughter had no future.

“She will be born a slave,” I rasped back. A well-born one, but still a slave. “A concubine meant to service my successors. Is that truly a fate you want for your daughter?”

Chikal scoffed dismissively. The prospect did not frighten her. “If we win, she will be a queen. If we fail, she will avenge us. My subordinates will see that our hatred outlives us. My daughter will be raised to take arms against the Nightlords and complete what we could not.”

“Is that how you do things in Chilam? Pray that the daughter settles the mother’s grudges?”

“Ours shall do it with her father’s powers, if you are man enough to pass them on,” Chikal replied, her brows furrowing. “This ought to secure my loyalty to you, would it not? I will be fighting for two lives instead of mine alone.”

When she put it that way… “You will be expected to follow me to war,” I pointed out. “A pregnancy would weaken you.”

Chikal let out a hearty laugh. “My mother gave birth to me hours after winning a battle,” she said with amusement. “Moreover, the war campaign will take place during spring and summer. We will have returned to your prison for the harvest season by the time my belly swells.”

I had to admit that I found Chikal’s cold-blooded pragmatism almost refreshing. She reminded me of Sigrun in that way. I had promised her a child too in exchange for her support once, if she ever needed to secure her place as a concubine.

I pondered her proposal thoughtfully. Sleeping with women for power and favor meant that a few would inevitably bear my children. The Nightlords counted on it for their sick breeding program. I would no doubt end the year with a few sons and daughters, both of whom could only look forward to death and slavery.

This would happen whether or not I allied with Chikal, so what did it matter if we consummated our relationship? She was right. Either we succeeded and our children would be free, or we failed and some might pick up the fight. More pragmatically, it meant I could practice Seidr with another trustworthy partner.

I sat on the bath’s edge, my legs in the water down to the knees. My head hurt a bit from the last blow, but the pain vanished when I examined Chikal more closely. My stare moved up from her chiseled abs to her strong breasts and thick shoulders. All the women I had been with were slim and delicate. Chikal was the exact opposite, fleshy and voluptuous.

It did not displease me.

“I take it that we have a deal, Nightslayer?” Chikal probed as she wrapped her arms around my neck.

“What if it is a son?” I asked, my hands fondling her breasts. Each was large enough to fit inside my open palms.

Chikal smiled in amusement as she clambered onto my lap. She did not push me back. “A queen of Chilam has never given birth to a male,” she whispered in my hair. “No magic in the world will change that.”

— NSFW Scene Starts —

I bit her on the neckline as she impaled herself on me.

The musicians continued to play even as Chikal grabbed my manhood and steadied it with one hand. I grunted when she sank down on my length, her insides closing on me like an iron prison. I tasted the sweat on her skin and the salty bathwater alike. Chikal enveloped me in her flesh one moan at a time. Her knees sat on the marble around my lap and squeezed.

My consort reminded me of Sigrun as a mature woman with eagerness and experience on her side, but unlike Ingrid’s mother, she cared little for my pleasure. Chikal crushed me under herself and quickly began to bounce off me with immense strength. My hands moved down her ass and squeezed to keep up the pace. The recoil sent shivers of ecstasy traveling through my spine, alongside sharp bouts of pain as she pulled off her entire weight on me. She gained the initiative and forced me to keep up.

“Quicker,” she ordered me as she hammered her hips up and down. Her earrings and breasts jiggled while she hastened her pace. “Is that all you have, male?”

I responded with a grunt. When I struggled to adapt to her hastened rhythm, Chikal grabbed me by the throat with one hand and squeezed until red marks appeared on my skin. She enjoyed my pain much like I did Necahual’s. Only when I bit her breast until I tasted her blood did I hear a moan of pleasure coming from her. Her body convulsed and tightened its grip on mine.

She liked it rough.

Our thrusts sent waves rippling through the bath. I sensed our Teyolias connect to the tune of the turtle shell drums and flutes. Her heart-fire blazed thrice brighter than Necahual, a bonfire to her candle. I tried to align her flame with mine… and swiftly failed.

Seidr’s true power required two souls to align, to break down their mental defenses in order to focus on a common cause. Chikal did not lower her guard. Quite the contrary, her Teyolia instinctually pushed back mine in spite of the power difference.

“What was that?” Chikal asked, having sensed the touch of my magic. She grabbed my hair with one hand with such strength that it started to hurt and forced me off her breast with a twist of her wrist. “What was that?”

“Power,” I grunted back, my nails sinking into her flesh until she bled.

“Give it to me then,” she said imperiously. When I failed to respond quickly she pushed me down with my back against the marble and hastened her pace. My groin ached under her weight. “I am waiting.”

The more she tried to connect with me, the less I could focus.

Chikal wanted to dominate me. For all of my power and magic, I remained a male to her. Deep down she considered me a tool rather than an equal. She would rather take than share, the way Sigrun did. It would have worked if she had been a Nahualli or had Sigrun’s expertise, but in the current situation it only weakened our bond.

I rose up out of frustration, pushing Chikal back and thrusting forward with all my strength. My consort nearly fell into the water behind us, but hung to my shoulders with a groan. I grabbed her hips and retook the initiative. My manhood twitched when she bit my neck deep enough to leave a bruise. My loins ached.

My vision went white as I let go.

Chikal moaned in pleasure as I came inside her. I struggled to hold on to her in spite of her convulsions. No vision came to reward my efforts. Her Teyolia broke from mine when my pulses slowed down to a crawl.

— NSFW Scene Ends —

The Seidr ritual had failed.

“That was…” Chikal let out a sigh upon finally relaxing. “Acceptable.”

“It wasn’t,” I grunted back. What pleasure our coupling gave me failed to compensate for my frustration at failing to use the Seidr spell. “We will need training.”

Chikal snorted. She had taken my remark as a challenge. “Let me gather my breath and we will try again.”

We had sex two more times before we finally drifted into unconsciousness. I gained a few bruises for my effort and came closer to achieving a Seidr vision with Chikal, but failed nonetheless.

I awakened in Chamiaholom’s home with one hell of a foul mood; much to my host’s delight.

“Sweetheart…” Chamiaholom smiled at my angry scowl. “Are you finding a queen a more difficult partner than a slave? You find me feeling sorry.”

I ground my teeth and didn’t dignify her taunt with an answer. Tonight had showcased to me yet another limit of Seidr magic. Stealing power from a partner demanded little more than physical contact, but the best applications required trust. Necahual and I had hated each other for years. In a sinister way, we understood one another on an intimate level.

Chikal and I had been strangers until a month ago. It would take time before she could lower her guard enough to fuel the spell.

At least I have secured her allegiance. With Chikal agreeing to support my cause, I could ensure that the Sapa war would go disastrously wrong for Yohuachanca. She will make a worthy ally.

“I wonder if the Nightlords would let her daughter live,” Chamiaholom said with a cackle. “Knowing them, they might smother the child in the crib out of boredom.”

A cruel fate hardly any kinder than a life of slavery. I ignored the jab and triggered my Bonecraft spell.

“You said that tonight might be our last lesson,” I told the hag. “Let us make good on that promise.”

“You hurt me, dear. Are you in such a hurry to leave my side?” The Lord of Terror grinned. “Have it your way. You will find my siblings less kind than dear old Chamiaholom.”

We spent the next hour or so practicing the Bonecraft spell when applied to oneself. Chamiaholom demonstrated the magic by causing a sharp skeletal spike to burst out of her wrist.

“Creating a bone blade means you will have to take matter from elsewhere, dear,” she told me. “I suggest the ribs. One or two won’t weaken you too much.”

“Is there any way to increase the quantity of my bones?” I asked my teacher. Consuming bones in one area to create more in another created dangerous vulnerabilities.

Chamiaholom let out a cackle. “Why do you think I harvest human bones, my dear?”

“Must I steal the bones of the dead and add them to my own?” I couldn’t help but smile. “The joke is on you. I have a reliquary full of skulls eager to help me slay the Nightlords.”

“My sweet child, you should look for newer and fresher bones than those old fools.” The hag wagged a finger at me. “I would love to lie and tell you that you need human bones, but in truth, you may harvest them from any source. You should grind the skulls and parts of beasts into dust, then use Bonecrafting to thicken your bones with them. The more you consume, the stronger you will become.”

A verbose way to say that I should consume bone dust and add them to my mass. I would have to be careful that the process didn’t affect my appearance, but I should be able to disguise weight gain as I strengthened my muscles through food and training.

I followed Chamiaholom’s instructions and cannibalized two ribs to shape an arm-blade. The pain was atrocious, especially when the spike burst out of my left wrist, but I withstood it all the way through. Bonecrafting did nothing to heal my wounded flesh.

“You are a natural user of Bonecraft, dear,” Chamiaholom complimented me. “It took your mother many tries to summon a bone blade and you did it on your first.”

“Interesting.” I examined the spike more closely. I could probably pierce a trihorn’s scales with it. “Am I a better sorcerer than my mother?”

“No, but you have an advantage over her.” Chamiaholom chuckled darkly. “You fear neither pain nor death.”

Mother delighted in harming those who crossed her—the vile Curse she had put on Necahual proved it—but she would rather see her son die than risk herself fighting the Nightlords. I doubted she had ever attempted to drive a knife into her own heart the way I had.

Applying the Bonecraft spell to oneself meant withstanding terrible suffering. I felt every inch of my ribs hollowing from within and then erupting from my wrist in a new shape. It was nothing compared to the anguish the Nightlords and Xibalba’s trials had put me through, but I could imagine how other sorcerers might avoid using the spell in my place.

“Now, sweetheart, you may turn your bones into projectiles by applying a great amount of pressure to them.” Chamiaholom demonstrated by pointing her own bone spike at the nearest wall. The blade erupted from her wrist faster than any arrow and punctured its target with enough force to shatter stone. “I recommend using this technique with parsimony and very small projectiles since you lose the bone spent, but it will let you kill from afar.”

I immediately imitated her. I had bones push against my spike so quickly and suddenly that it flew across the room before I knew it. I had to force my mouth shut to swallow a grunt of pain, and no small amount of my burning blood dripped from my wrist afterward. I would definitely need to use this technique carefully.

However, I immediately considered a different application.

“If I use Bonecraft to apply pressure to my bones at the right moment, it should let me increase my strength and speed,” I noted.

“Clever dear, yes you may,” the hag replied, almost kindly. “We shall train this way for the night, and if you are studious, I will reward you with a treat.”

Horns arose from under her hair, and her smile turned into a demonic maw full of fangs.

“The ossuary armor.”