Chapter 30 — Jessi

Xyn had no idea what he should do.

Thankfully, he used his aura to clean Jessi and her clothes (reducing the strength of her scent) before letting her out of the cage, because she had promptly attached herself to him and was now rubbing her face and mammaries against his chest. Though her mammaries were human-like and larger than expected for a cat-kin, they weren’t human-sized like Ayla’s. To distract himself, Xyn wondered if Ayla’s chest was as soft.

“Humans are okay enough, I guess.” Jessi’s gaze briefly drifted to Hoss and Alennil and dismissively to Yillian before she returned to scenting him. “But I’m glad dad sent a real man to rescue me. So strong and hunky too!”

Xyn managed a wry smile. In his current form, he doubted he was all that much better than a human. Still, knowing a female found him desirable—even considering her current state—he couldn’t help puffing out his chest a bit and standing taller, his tail sneaking out from his cloak to curl around her protectively.

“I’m Jessi,” she purred and switched to hugging his arm, her own tail curling around his. “What’s your name?”

“Xyn,” he replied and tried to remain stoic in the face of her cheerful smile and attentive tufted ears. Her cute little fangs and upturned lavender eyes tugged at the fraying threads of his resistance.

“Xyn,” she tasted his name and ran a clawed finger along the muscles of his upper arm. “A proud name with a hint of mystery.”

The way she was wrapping herself around his arm and tail was bordering on lewd, but-! Numbness was spreading into his arm from where her claws were lightly digging into his skin!

“Gratz, Xyn. Bet you’re glad Ayla is busy at the duke’s palace,” Yillian teased with a smirk and held out a steaming mug of herbal liquid for Jessi. “Jessi, you’ll want to drink this.”

Jessi looked at the elf skeptically and snuck a quick glance at Xyn’s reaction before sniffing at the mug. “What’s that?”

“An experimental mixture that may help with directing the Chaos essence in your body in more productive directions than what happened to the people in the other cage,” Yillian explained.

Jessi still gave him a distrustful look as she received the lightly steaming mug, but she still made a few worried glances in the direction of the physically-deformed test-subjects. “Who’s Ayla?”

“She’s a human noble with flaming red hair and a divine fire feline bloodline that Xyn is hot for,” Yillian happily revealed.

Oy! Xyn shot Yillian a look.

Jessi humphed like she couldn’t care less but bit her lower lip before sitting down to drink the liquid, her ears making furtive movements as she tentatively lapped at the warm drink with her delicate tongue. One ear flicked to the side, and she huffed and drank down the rest, quickly assuming a meditation pose to process the energy and Order essence in Yillian’s concoction.

Alennil and the two journeymen were distributing bowls of the tisane to the others while helping them out of the shackles. Xyn and Yillian had both been surprised when Alennil asked Yillian to use the Order-essence-imbued root powder from Fenton’s experiments to help the kidnapped test-subjects. The powder was likely to be needed as a key ingredient in the medicine for the diviner’s cousin.

Yillian retrieved Jessi’s mug and returned to where he had set up his cookpot over a small magical flame, refilling the mug, probably for the two females still locked in the supply room. Xyn returned his attention to staying alert for approaching threats but he couldn’t help being interested in what Jessi was doing.

It didn’t take the cat-kin girl long to finish circulating the Order essence through her body, and she promptly hopped to her feet, stretched her limbs, and tested retracting and extending her claws. “Well, Xyn, I can take a hint, and I’m willing to wait, considering you saved me and all.” Her tail quivering a bit seemed to contradict what she was saying. “Word of advice though, human females can’t properly appreciate cat-kin guys so it’s only a matter of time before she denies you.”

Xyn wanted to argue the case since the Hiddensnow bloodline likely wouldn’t exist if that was true, but instead, he chose to keep his options open and graciously allowed her to save face, “Thanks, Jessi. When it is honorable, if things don’t work out with Ayla, I’d be happy to consider your interest.”

“I’ve got complicated feelings about that, Xyn,” Jessi grumbled but smirked at him. “If I’m going to pick you anyway, it’ll be more fun if you made good on that while it’s still dishonorable, you know? Though, like I said, I’ll honor your commitment to this Ayla human.”

Xyn gave her an awkward grin of his own. Her father’s opinion on the matter wasn’t something he could afford to take lightly either.

“Hey, elf!” Jessi suddenly called over to Yillian who was working the storeroom lock with a key he had taken from the dead guard, steaming mug in his other hand. “Since you’ve got an all-guy team, how about I handle that? I need to get my stuff out of the room anyway.”

“I certainly won’t complain if you want to help out,” Yillian replied, seeming relieved, and motioned for her to go ahead.

Wearing a blade bandolier and two sheathed daggers, Jessi returned a few minutes later accompanied by two cloaked human females who were helping her move a sizable iron-bound chest into the main room.

“Slime and vermin repelling cloaks,” Jessi reported. “We’ll need something to make our people not look like monsters while getting them back to the tavern. The duke can reward us later for recovering the cloaks from the vampire and mage scum, heh.”

“Anything else useful in there?” Yillian asked, as he helped them lower the chest to the ground and open it up.

“Nah, not really. Maybe the torches? And I guess some of the poles or spears could be used to make stretchers for the victims who can’t walk?” Jessi answered while passing an armful of cloaks to the two females. “Thanks, Tami, Lem, go help the others get ready.”

Lem hesitantly nodded and Tami thanked Jessi before they hurried over to the others.

“I’m surprised they didn’t take your gear for themselves,” Yillian observed. Xyn had to agree, Jessi’s daggers and throwing blades were made with enchanted materials and likely conducted aura in a way similar to his own moonsteel sword.

“Yeah, I’m guessing they normally would’ve sold it off or whatever, but I heard that they planned to use some kind of mind control or such on me once the boss was back from recruiting some ice-mage.” Jessi scrunched up her face at the thought. “Said I was too valuable to waste. Not sure what to think of that.”

Xyn’s tail smacked at the floor again in anger at these cultists.

Alennil wandered over and motioned for Yillian and Xyn’s attention. “Two of them were separated from their family after being captured. That might give me enough to locate the other victims.”

Yillian nodded. “Good work, Alennil. Let’s get this bunch back to the branch office first. I’m worried that our luck won’t hold out too much longer.”

Though Xyn didn’t disagree, he would have been just fine with killing more of the ‘scum’ as Jessi called them.

Ayla looked up from where she was sitting as the duke’s son arrived through the carefully cultivated fruit trees and hovering light-bugs, guided by a palace servant. She let out a sigh of relief and let go her anxious grip on her dress’ skirt. Still, the difficult part of her plan was what would follow.

“Have to say, I was really surprised to see a moon-viewing invitation from you of all people,” Sarlen said, making a wry smirk, as he took a seat at the garden table and glanced up at the not-quite full moon. “An invitation to the dueling ring would be more likely.”

A servant promptly filled his crystal goblet with a fragrant wine.

Denathen took a sip of his own goblet before replying to the new arrival, “I suppose that’s true. We’ve been rivals competing for your father’s attention of late.”

Sarlen made a disagreeable snort then turned his attention to Ayla. “So, who’s the young lady?”

With an exaggerated gesture, Denathen introduced her, “Sarlen, I don’t think you’ve met my sister, Lady Ayla Ravenhill.”

“Oooh, The Flaming Rapier of Justice. Well met, indeed. Somehow, I pictured the lady knight as more fire and less shadow. But, what’s this, Denathen? You’re not trying to set me up with your sister, are you?” Sarlen asked with an amused chuckle.

“Ah, no,” Denathen quickly denied then hesitated. “Though, maybe that would be something to interest Ayla?” Her brother looked her way with a querying gaze.

Ayla laughed at her brother’s awkward question. It was her first time meeting the duke’s son, and if it wasn’t for suspected cult interest, he already seemed an improvement over the effeminate and obsessed Fredrick.

“Hard for me to say, as I’ve only just met Sir Sarlen and hardly know anything about him.” She leaned forward with what she hoped was a considering smile. “But for my potential suitor to be involved with the Cult of Xogg`Shriloth…”

Sarlen froze then slowly lowered his goblet to the table, his eyes moving to count the nearby servants and probably evaluating threats. “Now, this, is more what I was expecting from you, Denathen. But even if we are the same rank, you’ve overstepped your bounds by threatening me. If my father-”

“He already knows,” Denathen calmly cut him off.

Sarlen’s eyes dilated then narrowed on her and probably the sword belted over her dress.

Ayla was impressed with her brother’s composure in this tense situation, and she couldn’t let the opening he had earned her go to waste. “Fear not, Sarlen. I have been allowed to make you a counter offer. Making this offer comes at no small risk to myself. Are you willing to entertain it?”

The ice-mage’s fierce crystal-blue eyes held her gaze for long moments, and Ayla had to circulate her aura to calm the pounding of her heart. If she failed to convince him to hear her out, there was a fair chance this encounter would result in bloodshed—if not now, then in the future.

Into the silence, Denathen spoke, “Sarlen, I sympathize with what it’s like to languish as a ‘spare’ with no guaranteed future but what you can earn for yourself, always reliant on the goodwill of family heirs. There are other paths to power, please at least listen to my sister’s offer.”

Sarlen glared at her brother for a few moments more then relented. Slumping back in his chair and affecting a casual air he waved for them to proceed. “Fine. Tell me this offer of yours.”

“Pardon me a moment,” Denathen excused as he held up his hand and a mandala formed. Sarlen tensed up, clearly expecting a trick, but nodded when he realized what Denathen was doing.

Once the anti-scrying and sound-proofing barrier was in place, Ayla made her pitch, “The conspiracy in the Tower and the revival of Xogg`Shriloth has drawn the attention of powerful people outside our kingdom. And likely for a similar reason that the cult was interested in your talents, the Cartographer’s Society is interested in recruiting you.”

Sarlen’s eyes widened in surprise before a wry smirk played across his face. “So you and my father are traitors conspiring with spies.”

Ayla felt a spike of fear at the sudden accusation and again calmed herself before continuing. “No. Your father only learned of this today, and I have my own reasons for associating with the Society, one of which being how my cousin was used and met his end at the hands of this cult. I have not forsaken my oath to king and country and have made use of the opportunity provided to act against an evil that has corrupted our kingdom from within.”

“I’m sure you believe that, Lady Ayla,” Sarlen allowed then sneered, “But what if the King is behind this conspiracy?”

Ayla’s thoughts froze for a moment. Could that really be the case? “There has been no evidence found thus far to indicate that, and your father seemed surprised and concerned when informed of the situation.”

“That such a deep conspiracy even exists in the Tower is the evidence. There’s no way it could be hidden from the justicars,” Sarlen rebutted.

Ayla shook her head and challenged him, “There’s no way the King would employ vampires and Priests of Malor to unleash such an evil on our land!”

“I haven’t heard news of any towns or villages being attacked by this evil that you make sound like an unstoppable calamity. Where exactly has it been unleashed?” Sarlen pointed out, seemingly amused at how he was able to fluster her.

“The Mirewood.”

He raised a finger in triumph. “Elf lands.”

Ayla’s mind reeled with the plausibility of Sarlen’s arguments and the potential implications. But knowing what had happened to Fenton and the evils the cultists were committing and the reckless threat to the region or even the whole world, she firmed her resolve. “Then I will uphold my oath to country.”

“Ayla!” her brother exclaimed, aghast at her declaration of treason.

Sarlen only chuckled, smug in his victory.

Ayla was startled by a sudden request for aid from Xyn through the medallion, but knew that if Xyn was asking for help, they must really be in trouble. “Denathen, my friends have encountered a swarm of giant mutated spiders blocking their approach to where city citizens are being held captive in the sewers by vampires and cultists, do you think you can assist with the rescue?”

Denathen was surprised at the sudden request, but Sarlen didn’t let the opportunity to mock his rival slip by. “Better hurry to the rescue there, Sir Sewer Patrol. That’s what my father finds you most useful for anyway.”

Her brother glared at the duke’s son. “Ayla, I can’t leave you alone to finish negotiating with this self-deluded puffed-up cooling-stone generator. Not after what you’ve already told him.”

What was her brother doing antagonizing the duke’s son in response to a childish provocation at a time like this?!

“Quite the dilemma, huh? Well, setting aside my reluctance to doing anything that would put me in your brother’s favor, I can’t say I’m too keen on placing my future in the care of vampires,” Sarlen mused and gave her a winning smile. “So, how do I make my arrangements with this Society?”

Ayla’s mouth dropped open at the sudden turn-around, but she wasn’t going to turn down the win and promptly passed along the instructions that Yillian had relayed to her when asked to broach the idea with Master Rethan.