In All of Infinity (14 page)

She looked at his member and he smiled when
he saw her eyes widen. She was pleased. He took her hand, icy cold
just as his, and walked over to the fireplace. They locked eyes for
a moment, then he turned ahead and she looked at his well-muscled
buttocks. He worked out a lot; there was no doubt in her mind about
that.

When they reached the fireplace, he sat on
the rug and looked at her, a sincere look on his face. Frost looked
at his member as it lounged on the rug, wondered what it would feel
like inside of her it was so large, and felt his hands go up her
legs. She felt weak, so he lowered her down and smiled as he
pressed his lips to hers again.

Emmanuel removed the rest of her clothes,
still kissing her. When she was naked at last, he pulled away from
her and stared at her breasts.

“You are beautiful,” he said with
conviction. They were as large as melons and were crowned by
nipples with light pink aureoles. He began playing roughly with
them and she moaned. Emmanuel returned back to her mouth, kissed
her again, and let his hand trail down her stomach to her mound. He
didn’t have to search for long when he began strumming her moans
with her passion bud.

Emmanuel rose above her and inserted his
member, began riding her with all the man he was. At long last, he
was ready to explode. He smiled at her as sweat down his forehead
and down his back into the crack of his buttocks. He was about to
please her beyond her wildest dream.

“No,” she managed as he rode her. “Come
here. I want to taste you.”

He crawled towards her and she placed his
bulging manhood inside her mouth. When he exploded at last, she bit
down only slightly when desire’s fluid threatened to strangle her.
As some of it escaped her mouth, he laughed despite the pain. She
swallowed and he fell down beside her, exhausted.

“Well, this is a first,” she said with a
laugh. “I don’t usually make love to the council members. Of
course, most of them are old.”

Before he could respond, they heard a loud
knock on the door. Emmanuel stood up just as the door burst open,
standing behind one of the chairs. He found himself completely
shocked as he saw who was leading the counselors into the room.
Draven Ovile, dressed in black from head to toe, began clapping and
trying to keep his even darker hair from falling into his eyes by
tossing his head.

“Oh, that’s wonderful,” he said and laughed.
“I must say… I never thought that I had it in me. I mean, aren’t I
the most cruel minded man you’ve ever met? I should have an award
or something.”

“You have no place here!” Frost exclaimed
and stood. She began manipulating the breeze around her until it
became a thick fog around them. When it cleared up around her, her
brow furrowed. “I don’t understand.”

Draven laughed. “Good.” He began walking
towards them, taking slow, calculated steps. He looked around him
as he laced his hands in front of him. His dark green eyes looked
at Frost, held for a second, and then turned to Emmanuel. Draven
looked at the older man’s member before turning back to Frost. “You
should see mine. Actually, I think you’ll be seeing plenty of it,
my queen, after we wed.”

“I would never marry you,” she spat.
“Never!”

“I think there’s something you need to
understand, my sweet. The darkness has gathered around Magaren and
Wrenwood has fallen. You no longer have a say, especially since you
surrendered some of your power to save this… old widow,” he said
and laughed again. He snapped his fingers and two of the council
approached, almost salivating as they awaited orders. They
possessed stronger powers than Emmanuel, so he knew it was useless
to resist them. “Kill him. I don’t care how you do it, just get rid
of him. I don’t want to see him again.”

“And the woman?” they inquired.

“I can take care of her,” he said and smiled
at Emmanuel. “I hope she likes it rough. I can tell you didn’t give
it to her the way I would. I mean, I understand that you couldn’t,
since you were under a spell cast by yours truly. You don’t love
her. You just feel sorry for her.”

Before he could retaliate, the two he’d
considered his allies pulled him away. He had no choice but to
follow them. When he reached the door, he looked over his shoulder
and saw Frost on the rug again, her legs spread. Draven looked over
his shoulder and smiled at Emmanuel before the door closed behind
him. Was the younger man right? Did he feel sorry for Frost?

Instead of killing Emmanuel, they gouged out
his eyes and sent him on his way. He roamed the Cathene Continent
with all he knew and the little power he possessed, unable to see
the world except by four senses. He wasn’t sure if he loved Madame
Frost except for as a friend, since the magic of the spell washed
away shortly after he left Wrenwood. He did feel sorry for her,
though. As he left, he could sense someone looking at him, but he
could no longer see so the intention of the observer was
futile.

He wasn’t loved by many, most detested him
because he was blind, but he was valued for his company by a band
of gypsies. They considered him among them at times because he was
a wanderer just like they were. It was by traveling that he found
his way into Peniolea around two years later, hearing the local
townspeople laugh at a man who had undergone bizarre torture. He
found a group of people who knew the name he hadn’t heard for four
years, Reverie, and knew Fate had guided him there.

***

When Mona didn’t talk about Otis, she cried
and Windrew found himself wishing for the presence of a real woman.
When his wife gave birth to their two sons, she had wept, but only
tears of happiness. When she was hurting either emotionally or
physically, she asked to be left alone, even though he told her he
didn’t mind being a shoulder for her to cry on. He wished she was
slightly like Mona at times, but not all the time. As a warrior, he
knew he couldn’t stand it.

“Ok…let me get this straight: this guy
doesn’t have the balls to save himself, so we have to?” Tanner
asked with a laugh. While everyone else was quite, the redhead
couldn’t stop talking. If they were spies, he would blow their
cover because he revealed more names than he was supposed to,
including Reverie’s. Windrew dreaded ever bringing him along,
knowing he knew Peniolea like the back of his hand, especially the
homes of his enemies. He hated the Ojala family.

“Shut up, Tanner,” Windrew said, wishing he
could ride quickly through town, escape this gnat of a man. Mona
began crying again and he rolled his eyes. He mumbled, “This day
couldn’t get any worse.”

The town was crowded, loud, and clung to
darkness. Sunshine would be a waste here, the wizard realized. It
would only illuminate the poverty, with most people as dirty as the
ground itself, striving for a bit of gold; and it would also reveal
the eyes of those who were greedy, nasty, and worshippers of evil.
He didn’t need to see that. He could sense it already, as well as
the presence of his brother nearby.

The cage was in the middle of the busiest
street, no doubt active because of the man’s situation. As Windrew
rode closer, he examined the cage, sensing there wasn’t a need for
him to use his powers. It was merely made of wood and twine, built
so there was square places where the townspeople would squeeze
their faces in and spit at him. Since he could no longer get closer
on his horse, he handed the reins to one of his men, and then told
three others to come with him. Brornar, though he wasn’t under the
wizard’s command, agreed to come along, and gave Tanner his
reins.

“I need you to take the horses and get out
of this crowd. I have a feeling things are about to get messy,” he
told them, looking at Mona cautiously. “I will call you when I need
you.”

They nodded and he turned, began pressing
himself through the crowd, having to turn sideways at certain
junctures as he continued on. He could tell the general public were
focused on the cage and hardly glanced at him, which was just as
well. He didn’t need them to see him, recognize him.

When he came to the front of the crowd, he
was taken aback by the man in the cage. Although he was bleeding
and the townspeople’s saliva was dripping into his wounds, he
remained poised, ready for a chance to escape. Windrew glanced at
the sharp stones at the younger man’s feet, knew they had caused
the fresh wounds, and wished he could turn his wrath on the mob
around him. If he didn’t know they were under a spell, he most
assuredly would. Instead, he began preparing himself for an awkward
healing moment, since he had promised Reverie he would bring her
friend back without a scratch.

He closed his eyes and searched inside
himself, imagining the cage falling apart, and then heard a loud
crash followed by screams. He looked and saw Otis standing there,
shocked.

“Come on, man!” Windrew barked. “We haven’t
much time.”

The wizard looked at the crowd, threw his
arms wide and they were pressed into other pathways so that he and
his allies could walk through. He turned back to Otis, saw that he
was too weak to run with them. He glanced at Brornar, who
immediately rushed to the injured man, and threw him over his
shoulder like a sack of potatoes. They ran until they reached the
group, and then mounted their horses. Windrew dropped the magical
barrier and let the angry mob loose, smiling because he knew they
wouldn’t be able to do much. Windrew wondered how his younger half
brother would react when word reached him about the release of the
man he’d put on display.

“Let’s get out of here!” Windrew exclaimed
over the uproar. He looked at Otis as he sat in the saddle with one
of his men, unconscious, and hoped that he was alright. After all,
it wasn’t every day he saved a possible ally in the good fight,
much less save someone from his brother.

Since he didn’t hear any objections, Windrew
turned his horse and led his group towards where they’d come. They
escaped only seconds before the throng closed in on them, throwing
stones as much as they were cursing. He glanced at a few of them,
his eyes settling briefly on a man with a bandage wrapped around
his eyes, before turning to his ride.

As Windrew rode along, he thought about
forbidden magic. He couldn’t get over the fact that he was wrong
earlier, doubted that he had been wrong. He began, instead, to
think about what was stranger than forbidden magic. There wasn’t
anything much more powerful magic than that which was forbidden,
which was why it was named so to begin with. He didn’t know if
Reverie possessed some other form of magic, or if the magic Isaac
possessed came from Nadia herself. She was never one who used her
abilities for good deeds; much less give them to someone who would
destroy Luella.

When they at last reached a safe area some
miles out of town, not wanting to go directly towards the Ojala
place, they decided that it would be as reasonable as any. The
cottage reflected the goodness of those who lived within. As
Windrew dismounted, taking the cobblestone walk towards the door,
he remembered hiding here many times. He knew the couple well,
called them by their first names, but realized that they were older
now and probably didn’t want to hide him. They would always remain
loyal to the cause, even if they did it some other way, so he
wouldn’t be angry with them.

He attempted to knock on the door but a
small woman with vibrant violet eyes answered before he could. He
knew that she recognized him because she began straightening
herself up, dusting off her flour-covered hands on her apron,
smiling as she welcomed him in. She didn’t mind the others coming
in after him, then charging up the stairs, hiding Otis’s nakedness
with their own fully-clothed bodies. Windrew watched them go, knew
he would have to go up once they had everything prepared for him,
but turned now to his old friend.

“Aura,” he said with a smile. “You haven’t
aged at all.”

She blushed. “Thank you, Windy. I’m much
obliged. You haven’t aged at all either.”

They were the same age, had been introduced
by their mothers at a time when all seemed innocent. As he stared
at her, caught up in the strand of gray in her dark hair, he wished
he could use his magic and keep her from aging any further.
Although they were both in their mid-forties, he detested the idea
of aging while she was quite the opposite. Once, when they were
younger, she said she was never one for magic, but she possessed
the only source of pure magic in his youth and that was merely by
being herself.

“Where’s Ben?”

“He’s out in the garden. We have the most
beautiful vegetables! You should see them, but…” she glanced up the
stairs, saw one of his men. “…maybe you will later.”

“Thank you,” he said and kissed her
cheek.

He bounded up the stairs and into a familiar
room. The four-post bed was positioned horizontally mere feet from
the door, and the unconscious Otis lay upon it. Mona sat beside
him, holding his hand, crying whenever she looked to see that his
member was gone. With a wave of his hand, Windrew dismissed
everyone, even though Brornor had to carry Mona away. When the door
was closed at last, Windrew locked it and walked towards the bed.
Otis looked at him, his eyes haunted.

“I’m going to marry her one of these days,”
he said sincerely. “I am. I just haven’t had time to think about it
until now. She said she’ll have me, no matter what…”