Wysper - Muzen probes for answers

Man is not the only race who lives upon the earth. There are the wise goblin-kin of the east and the fierce Ogri, the Centaurs who have allied themselves with the nomadic Tartaros steppe hordes of the north, the Satyrs who have put down their hatred of the Brittani to ally with them against the Kingdom of the Gauls, and more besides.

Rarest of all the races, though, are the Winter Fae. Yrg stands three feet tall, with night black skin and bone-white hair, her body more slender than any child's, with a face of unnatural, elfin beauty. She is also stronger than any human alive. I once saw her snap the thigh bone of a general who had displeased the High Priest, moving faster than a viper as she killed the general's guards with her bare hands. Yrg is the High Priest's assassin, and there is only one reason she is here.

Pigeon brings the platter forward and sets it on the table as Yrg strides over to stand beside me. She is dressed in black, tunic and trousers, with a variety of implements attached to the belt at her waist, and it is only the pride of being Brittani that keeps me from whimpering as the High Priest motions for Pigeon to leave.

She gives me a worried look as she departs, the door closing behind her with an ominous boom as the High Priest looks across the table. "Planning ahead also means taking advantage of opportunity."

"If you're talking about Asena's son, Greywolf," Redhunter replies, "rest assured that he's received word about..." He trails off, glancing at me before looking back at the High Priest. "Ah, what you've planned."

What he has planned? It is taking all my self control not to begin trembling as Yrg rests her small hand on my bare shoulder. "You are going to be the bait that draws in Greywolf to us."

"Bait?" I look past her at the High Priest. "Your holiness, please tell me: what is going on?"

He sighs... and that frightens me more than Yrg's fingers caressing my skin. "Wysper, I meant what I said about having to be ruthless. You see, Greywolf, the one who kissed you, is the first child born to any Celestial in the Sasnayam pantheon or any other that I know of, for several hundred years, and is a Shadow-walker as well. His potential value to me is enormous."

Yrg's presence beside me fades to insignificance as I stare at him. "Your holiness, is this another test? Because if it is, I believe in Yun-Kax and their allied gods of the pantheon-"

I gasp as Yrg squeezes my shoulder just enough to cause pain. "No one is testing you," she replies in her child-like voice as she releases pressure on my bones. "Greywolf was told that if he did not show himself tonight, you would lose your hands."

She gives me her jagged smile as my hand goes to my mouth. "My... your holiness," my eyes wide as I look at him, "have I displeased you in some way? Because if I have, I promise-"

"No, Wysper, you have not displeased me in the slightest." The High Priest's voice is soothing as he holds up his hand with its palm out to stop my torrent of pleading words. "The purpose of this gesture is three-fold. First, I knew Asena would never permit Greywolf to attempt a rescue, and would do anything, including giving him a bald faced lie, to get her son to believe that I was bluffing. Your hands showing up tomorrow will convince him of my sincerity."

Terror freezes me in place as he goes on. "Second, I have a strong suspicion that Yrg not only planted the dreams about your being rescued, but also planted nightmares that would lead you into committing suicide on the road to Tesiphon, so she might be able to enjoy feasting off your body after you were dead. It is a hard thing to kill yourself with no hands." It is Yrg's turn to freeze in place as the High Priest gives her a knowing look. "And third, my experiments lead me to believe that, over time, both of your hands will regenerate."

My mouth opens in shock and Yrg's does too as the High Priest smiles like a temple cat over a pair of mice. "The expressions on your faces are beyond price. Yes, I have witnessed regeneration of a finger on the child born to replace Wysper, which means there is no reason why Wysper's hands will not regenerate as well. Provided I leave the mana node inside her intact."

This is not another test. He is really going to take my hands, even though I have done nothing wrong. I close my mouth as I draw my knees to my chest, instinctively placing my hands under my armpits. Yrg closes her mouth and licks her lips with her snakelike tongue. "There will be no pain, I promise. In my pocket I have an enchanted silver garrote that will take your hands off cleanly at the wrist, healing the stumps as the hands come off."

I cannot keep from whimpering, I am so scared and no one cares as she touches a finger to my lips. "Shh, it will be alright. I will go through your mind first, scrambling your thoughts so you will not feel the horror, and in time you will come to accept this." Her icy smile returns. "Who knows, your loss might actually spur Greywolf into coming to save you after all."

"Before she does," Redhunter says, "I want to ask Wysper about something she said earlier, something that's been bothering me." Muzen raises his painted on eyebrows, but makes a 'go ahead' motion with his hands. I will answer whatever he asks if it means I can keep my hands a little longer, and turn towards him. "Girl," he says in a sharp voice, "earlier you asked if this was another test. Did someone try to do something to you right before you walked in the door?"

No! If the High Priest learns how close I came to disobeying him, he might not let my hands grow back, and he might make my punishment worse. "It was nothing," I practically mumble, looking down at the floor.

"Your face was a mask, but I saw the fear in your eyes when you walked in. It definitely wasn't 'nothing'."

"Wysper," the High Priest says with a touch of coldness in his voice, "what happened?"

"It truly was nothing, your holiness." Please let him believe me and let this go. "Kavad-El tested me on the stairs, but I passed and he let me go."

I glance up. Please, no, there is anger in his eyes. "No one except myself is permitted to test you. Zanzabel," the High Priest rising to his feet, "hold Wysper while I rummage through her memories."

"I can do it for you," Yrg says, a little too quickly as Zanzabel's strong legs fold themselves around me while her arms hold me fast.

There is a sly smile on Redhunter's lips as High Priest drops to his knees in front of me. "Not this time." The High Priest takes my head between his hands and stares into my eyes, his own becoming twin pools of darkness. I fall into a pit that sucks me down as the High Priest takes control of my mind.

My memories are a house with thousands of rooms, growing outward as more are added. The High Priest breaks down the door to the first one and begins rummaging through the contents. Then he smashes down the next door and moves on.

Images begin flashing through what remains of my coherent thoughts; my encounter with Kavad-El and Fat-boy's rescue, the walk over here with the temple guards, my conversation in the bathing room and more, farther and farther back, until my memories become a throng of people like the the ones watching me be sacrificed, aimlessly milling around. I am losing myself, losing my mind, as it goes on and on and on...

I fall back into someone's arms. They are nice arms, dark as pieces of ebony and strong, yet they hold me gently as a child-like voice beside me says, "You were in there more than a few moments. What did you find out?"

I can see the one speaking. She is dark skinned as well, but she does not have nice arms, too stick-like, and white hair. There is a strange looking man with dark red hair across the table as well. My gaze wanders around the room, then back to... I know him... the High Priest, yes, whose name is... Muzen... who is looking at me. "Yrg, leave her hands alone for now. I need you to search the memories of my senior acolyte, and I need you to do it now."

I am content to watch as the woman... a dancer? As she says close to my ear, "You have uncovered a plot against you?"

"Perhaps." The High Priest's face is grim, though I have no idea why. "There is a chance Kavad-El has grown cocky, and is using his position to abuse the slaves to satisfy his own desires, but in either case, he needs to be chastised. However, word must not leak out that I suspect anything is amiss. Yrg, you will go find my senior acolyte and tell him that I questioned Wysper as to why she seemed upset, and she said it was because the captain of Bukhara's temple guard suggested he defile her on top of the pyramid. This will allay his suspicions, so when you tell Kavad-El I am trusting him to stand in for me, to hear what you discover when you go through the captain's mind, he will be eager to do so."

Yrg, is that the creature's name? Yes, I believe it is, and I think I am afraid of her, as she says, "He will become unruly once he realizes the truth."

"Yes, I suspect he will. Have him bring the young captain to the temple of Ghash-Kimil, and make sure the captain is present when you question my acolyte. It should leave a lasting impression, even if you find Kavad-El is guilty of nothing more than arrogance, and the priests of Ghash-Kimil will keep their silence."

"What if your acolyte is guilty of much worse?"

The High Priest grimaces. "Have one of the priests send word that it is time for the traditional appeasement sacrifice to Ghash-Kimil. If things are as bad as I suspect, drain the accumulated magic from his body then feast upon his flesh while the others watch. I will trust your judgment as to his guilt or innocence."

"Such a feast will make me sluggish for a while."

"We can delay here a few extra days while I send envoys to Akhur, asking them to reconsider their decision to leave the empire. Who knows, it might even be successful. In any event, the danger will increase the closer we get to Tesiphon, by which time you will be sharp as your assassin's daggers, and together we can root out those conspiring against me." The High Priest stands, then moves over to the covered tray on the table as Yrg walks towards the door. "For now, though, I plan to enjoy the time I have before I learn how bad things actually are."

"I will send you a priest to inform you of how things stand when I know more," Yrg says as she reaches the door and pounds on it with her fist. A fat man... a eunuch? He opens the door and Yrg passes through into the hallway beyond.

Meanwhile, the High Priest has picked up the tray and now kneels back down in front of me, lifting the cover to reveal a wooden bowl of stew and a platter of bread with nuts baked into it, along with a piece of cloth and a metal spoon, as the strange man... is he a hunter, perhaps? As he says, "Muzen, can you trust her?"

The High Priest takes the spoon off the tray and dips it into the stew. "With my life," he says as he feeds me the first mouthful. I chew reflexively, sitting up as my hunger awakens. The High Priest dips another spoonful. "As long as I keep Yrg safe during those times when she is sluggish, she will be the most loyal ally anyone could ask for."

He feeds me another spoonful as the dancer says, "And if you cannot?"

He chuckles while he dips another. "Let us just say she would make my life extremely interesting. Allying with a Winter Fae is like riding a tiger into battle: if you get knocked off, the tiger will likely eat you, but until then you are the lord of the battlefield."

He feeds me with one hand while making an inviting gesture with the other. "While Wysper has been denied the attentions of men, I do permit her the pleasures of women, which her memories indicate she enjoys. I will feed her, then turn her over to you, so you may disrobe her and be pleasured, or pleasure her, as you wish." He glances at the man. "With your permission, Redhunter and I shall observe."

A little of the stew misses my mouth and dribbles down my chin as the woman laughs. "Holiness, you know I enjoy being watched as much as being the one in control."

"You civilized people look for any excuse to take your clothes off," the strange man... Redhunter, that is his name, says in an aggrieved voice.

The dancer puts her arms around me as she says, "You do not want to watch?"

He snorts. "Of course I want to watch. The memories of watching the two of you will warm me at night when my beast of a wife snores, memories I would be punished for if my people discovered I had them." He shakes his head as the High Priest puts down the spoon and grasps the cloth. "Muzen, sometimes I think you're an evil man."

"What a cruel thing to say," the High Priest replies as he wipes the juice off my chin. "Do you not see how lovingly I treat my children?"