Greywolf - The Kiss

The white stone platform rose shoulder level above the people, with stairs on all four sides leading down to the plaza's paved stones. Bald priests in robes a golden yellow color stood at the bottom of the steps, giving out tiny leather bags to those lined up in front of them. Other priests were crouched down at the platform's corners, placing onto outstretched hands pieces of glowing red... are those corn kernels? I think they are. A space opened up closer to the platform and I moved towards it.

All of the priests were average sized, except for the one in the center, who was taller than I was with broad shoulders. Around him stood bare chested, muscular fat men, wearing black trousers and wide red sashes around their waists. Each sash had a large scimitar tucked in tight.

Another priest seemed to be in charge of a large sack of this red corn, while three priestesses stood in a group on my side of the platform. They didn't have the look of the local people, but of the northern Celtic tribes, their skin pale as milk despite the sun. Two of them had hair like spun gold, one older and matronly, the other much younger, with the hint of plumpness other men find beautiful. The third...

Breath caught in my throat. She was lean, the bones of her face standing out from her skin casting shadows, giving her a starkness the others lacked. Then she smiled and the starkness of her face softened as the last of the sun's warmth touched my face. Unlike all the others, she wore a simple white dress with red embroidery, with a heavy gold choker around her throat and gold at her wrists. Although I couldn’t see her ankles, she likely had gold on them as well, for that metal absorbs the different magics most mages wield, while keeping her from using magic of her own. The mage slaves of the Western empire always wore shackles of gold.

Her blood red hair meant she was a natural born mage with the power to preserve and strengthen both her own body and other’s, while the golden braids at her temples gave her some ability to heal. Thanks to Asena, I could sharpen my vision at need, and as her gaze met mine, I could tell her eyes were the color of evergreen trees from the far northern lands.

She reared back with her mouth becoming an O of surprise. Did I do something to startle her? Quick, hold up the lemon so she can see it... yes, her smile's returning. I gave her a grin and with my other hand, pointed at the lemon. Her face grew puzzled. I don't think I'm offending her, she might not understand the custom... wait, she must, because she's pointing at the younger priestess beside her. She made a motion as if giving the lemon to the other priestess. I shook my head, pointed at the lemon, then pointed at her.

Her delighted expression was the sun chasing away dark clouds. There was too much noise to hear anything she said, but she turned towards the other two priestesses as if asking permission. The younger one looked at me and her face lit up as well, both of them turning toward the older priestess like children wheedling treats from their mother as they motioned in my direction.

The older priestess looked at me and scowled. The faces of the younger ones fell as she scolded them, which I recognized even without being able to hear what was said. Then she looked at me and made a shooing motion as if I were a beggar at the door. The younger priestess shrugged as if to say, 'Oh well', and went back to looking at the crowd, but the red haired priestess looked back at me. Her smile vanished and the expression on her face wasn't sad, so much as haunted.

I jumped a little as an old man in multicolored robes patted me on the arm. "We've all been watching you and Blood-Wysper," he said in Greco-Roma, his voice sounding sympathetic as he motioned towards others in the crowd looking at me, "and we wish it could've been otherwise. After everything she's done for us, she deserves to be kissed by a fellow Celt." He translated for the others and they nodded, speaking with equally sympathetic tones as they spoke to me in their flowing language. I turned towards the platform.

Blood-Wysper was looking at me, but everyone else on the platform had their attention somewhere else. Now’s my chance. "Who said she won't be," I told the old man with a wink as I opened a gateway into the Shadowlands and stepped through.

Shite, Asena's going to kill me but I don't care. The crowd became detailed shadows like finely crafted statues, their movements reduced to a snail's pace since time ran so much faster in the Grey. I did a complete circle, looking for threats. A Shadow Raptor soared far off above the palace, traveling away from here, but even if it banked and spotted me, Shadow creatures feel intense pain whenever they pass through the shadowy form of a living person. So remaining among a crowd was usually safe. Usually.

The old man's face was just beginning to register shock as I passed through him, heading towards the stairs. I ran up the steps and stopped in front of Blood-Wysper, then did another complete circle to make sure I didn't accidentally suck someone into the Shadowlands as I was leaving... though I'm tempted to do it to that old woman who told her no. That would be an evil act so I won't do it. But I'm still tempted.

My luck was holding as no one else was looking my way, so I pulled a clove off the lemon and stuck it on my tongue before opening a gate and stepping through. Blood-Wysper gasped as I wrapped my arms around her faster than thought, my actions always lightning quick for a few moments due to the time difference, and kissed her open mouthed. My tongue slid the clove onto hers and I stepped back. "Tradition demands I give this to the prettiest girl in Bukhara," I said with a smile as I pressed the lemon into her hand. Then tensed as I got ready to spin around and return to the Grey.

She grabbed me by the shoulders and kissed me back. Shite, I know I'm in trouble but I don't care. Her hip bones were grinding against mine as she pressed her body close, her tongue tasting of cloves as we continued to kiss. Around us, people gasped as a young woman's voice gave a delighted laugh, and I knew it would only be a moment before I felt a fat guard's hand on my shoulder. I need to leave but she needs me to stay, needs-

Magical energy washed over me like an angry wave. I pushed her away and spun around as the tall priest whirled towards me, his face enraged like a charging lion's as I leapt through the gate into the Grey. Color bled away from the world as I turned to look at the priest. Even though he was only a detailed shadow, I could see a column of pale gold with an orange-red core like fire flaring up inside him. Oh shite, he's a Celestial pretending to be a priest!

Celestials couldn't enter the Shadowlands unless they were in a place where a weak spot existed between the worlds, but I knew if I didn't get moving he'd be able to track me. I ran down the stairs and through the shadows of the crowd, racing along the main road until I reached the alley with the drunken Direwolf sign, then pelted down it until I reached the door. I leapt through it as a gate formed on the other side.

“Oof!” I bounced off someone in armor, stumbled backwards and smacked against the door. "Apologies, I wasn't watching where I was going and-"

The bells on the beaded curtain chimed wildly as Asena grabbed me by the front of my tunic. "You never opened the door," she growled, "and you were running. What have you done now?"

The odor of wine rolls off her breath as she put her shaggy face close to mine. Shite, I'm in trouble. "I just kissed a girl, honest. And someone got upset."

Laughter erupted from the common room. Looking past her, the room had filled with men in armor and an armored African woman larger than most men. The back of the room was lost in shadow, but there was a shape even bigger than Asena hidden in the darkness. Could that be an Ogri? I can't tell- Asena shook me and I focused on her as she growled, "What girl and who got upset?"

I swallowed hard. "Her name's Blood-Wysper and one of the priests-" Shite, her growl just went deeper. "I gave her the clove-lemon and kissed her fast, but she grabbed onto me and wouldn't let go in time."

"Nor did you want her to."

"It's not my fault. She's got green eyes... and freckles."

Everyone else in the room was laughing except for Porthos, who walked up beside Asena holding a copper cup filled with red wine. "Greywolf, Asena's right; you do nothing by half-measures. Blood-Wysper is the one of the reasons Yun-Kax is no longer a minor deity in the Sasnayam pantheon of gods, but the principal one. As the story goes, Muzen had a rare Shadow-walker lead a raiding party into Britannia to steal away the three priestesses and the sacred discs used to create their blood-oats, which is much the same as the blood-corn he now distributes to us, and the people have come to depend on Yun-Kax to help them. Without Blood-Wysper, there would be no blood corn to distribute, and the practice of sacrificing young women on the altars would resume."

Oh, shite. "Is this Muzen really tall?" Porthos nodded, and my face screwed up in a wince. "Shite, he thought I was trying to kidnap her. I swear, I only meant-"

Asena picked me up and hurled me across the room. A table of black armored mercenaries scrambled to grab their wine cups a moment before I slammed against the wooden table top and bounced into someone's lap. I shook my head, then looked up into the African woman's strong, scarred face as she said, "What in Hades’ name is going on?"

"Apologies. Asena's a little upset with me."

"Upset?" Looking up just over the edge of the table, Asena was stalking towards me with her dark hair bristling. "I'm going to bounce you off these walls until I shake some sense-"

The front door of the inn banged open. "Where is the Shadow-walker," a deep male voice snarled. I sat up, still on the mercenary woman's lap as the bald priest Muzen stalked into the room. "You will deliver him to me now."