Moonslave (19 page)

The archway before the sect spat bolts from side to side, the storm increasing quickly, growing more and more spry, until the entire aperture was little more than a single sheet of crazy patterns and wild blinding illumination.

Kira started to draw closer to her seneschal, frightened, the powers being wrought before her like nothing she could have imagined. Surely the warlocks and witches could not contain such forces, and catastrophic explosion was imminent.

Cassandra pulled the leash in and held Kira’s trembling form as she impassively watched the insane display of power build towards its crescendo. The outer stones dropped towards their natural state, the light fading, dribbling inwards, stealing the power from the others, the entire reservoir draining in towards the primary arch.

Once all the monoliths were restored to normality, their inner runes swallowed by opaque normal stone, the main arch hauled its store inward, pouring it into the air. A 156

creaking grumble rolled through the region, and with a dull tone a dark hole opened between the stone barriers.

All sound and light had vanished from the site, leaving everything unchanged. Peering intently at the place, Kira wondered if what she had seen had really occurred. A few twinkles of light dotted the main arch, but everything seemed utterly normal.

The doors to the first limousine opened and the queen emerged with Thanos and Corin on leashes, the two lupines clad in their terrifying wolfen forms, their glowing eyes piercing the gloom to scan for sign of threat to their mistress.

The vampiress wore her jagged crown, her body and limbs completely sealed within a comprehensive latex catsuit, the garment moulded to a perfect fit, the polished black skin incorporating gloves and stiletto heeled boots.

A single oval had been cut at her belly, the opening running from the base of her ribs to a few inches below her navel.

Amidst a wall of her warriors, with her most prized pets at her side, the queen began to walk towards the archway. The troops cradled their weapons in readiness, guarding their deity with zeal, their goggled sight flicking across the darkness, using their aim to seek danger.

A few words were exchanged with the duke and his followers and the procession wandered into the arch. As they stepped in they were swallowed by shadow, vanishing into darkness. Kira rubbed her eyes in astonishment, unsure whether she had seen correctly.

The moment the queen disappeared the seneschal indicated to the rest of the entourage, and as one, they started to walk towards the opening.

Several dozen warriors set themselves up around the stones, guarding the doorway as servants and slaves were 157

swallowed by the arcane portal, taken to some other place.

Kira was led sheepishly forth, tugs to her chain overcoming her awe and bewilderment. Her mind raced with possibilities of what would be waiting on the other side. The night had definitely taken a great leap into enthralling enticement. Brought before the arch, it seemed little different to normal, save that as those before them walked in, the night itself devoured them, merging them into the Stygian folds and then removing them completely from sight.

The seneschal strode forward, unperturbed, the vampiress used to such hermetic means of transport. The latex cocooned form of her enslaver was stolen by degrees until all that remained was the silver links of the chain stretching out of the air.

Taking a deep breath, Kira succumbed to an impatient jerk of the leash from the other side and stepped in. The depths seemed to gather in strength, enfolding her as an inky fog that hid all sight and then parted in steps to reveal a new place, a place far different to anything she had ever borne witness to in dream or reality. Kira paid no heed to the four warriors stationed on either side of her to guard the mystic tunnel, for her jaw had dropped and she started to quiver, her mind reeling from what she saw on the other side.

The vast hall had a dome for a ceiling, but from there all semblance of normality was lost, for the room itself was carved from the deranged imagination of supernatural beasts. The very fabric of the place was sculpted from flesh. The smooth surfaces were a glistening sheet of flushed pink skin, meandering veins winding themselves beneath the epidermis, pulsing softly with their own gradual beat. The hall was alive.

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The floor beneath her was slightly soft underfoot, the tissue like a layer of padding, akin to a deep carpet. Even through her boots she could feel the tardy heartbeat of the room. Clustered nodules grew from the wall in places, the veins that fed into them pulsing with a swifter beat, the misshapen growths radiating a sombre, warm light that spread lazily throughout the entrance hall.

Several muscular sphincters lay at floor level, the large apertures serving as doors to other chambers of this insane realm. The puckered mouths stretched back and opened as the queen’s various slaves approached, letting them through before withering shut again and clenching tight. For a celebration of carnal depravity, it was the perfect stage.

‘This way, slave,’ ordered the seneschal and made for one of the doors, the serviles bowing as she passed by.

Kira looked briefly about to try and locate the queen, but she had already entered some other area.

A doorway opened itself to passage and with a slight frown of disturbance, Kira followed her owner through and into a chamber that sprawled like a cathedral of raw meat, ready to accommodate multitudes of guests.

The high ceiling was supported in places by great pillars of bone that grew from the floor and spread cartilage into the flesh of the roof. Nodules of light dangled on long stalks of flesh, hanging like organic chandeliers to provide illumination.

Situated in a vast circle were bizarre divans. The large cushioned mounds were held in place by a perimeter of stout ribs that curled up to hold the large sac of soft, yielding flesh. Across the top of the seats fur had grown to form a dense layer, but it was not the cold, dead fur of a skinned animal, it was the warm, inviting fur of a living thing, the difference between laying on a fur coat, or 159

upon a vast purring cat.

Across the expanse of the room servants bustled to and fro, ferrying assorted cargo – clothes, storage boxes, food, implements of torment, and all manner of devices to appease and entertain the appetites of others.

The duke emerged from behind them, wandering past Kira and trailing a hand across her rear, the stripes of her earlier chastisement already healed. ‘Greetings, seneschal,’ he said idly, looking across the array of moulded meat that held them.

‘You have done exceptionally well, duke. The hall meets all my specifications. I trust there were no complications in completing the rest of it as well?’

‘No, seneschal, my sect have laid out the entire structure as according to your schematics, and finished the additional functions well ahead of time. The Charm of Vicissitude should handle your Pegasus needs. Has the queen voiced an opinion yet?’ he enquired with a slight degree of enthusiasm, eager to hear the praise of his creation.

‘She vanished straight into her personal chambers to start getting ready for her guests. I doubt we’ll ever get one,’ the seneschal added morosely, knowing how the queen was about such things. Flattery was a rare gift from the ancient vampiress, a being hard to genuinely impress and never prone to false pleasantries.

‘A pity,’ he replied, massaging his forehead with frowning disappointment.

The seneschal noticed his deflated mood and decided to improve his spirits with the compliments he sought.

‘But I’m sure she is as impressed as I.’

‘That was my intention, and I’m glad I have succeeded,’

he replied with a little more cheer, his efforts validated.

‘Though I suspect you are seeking to impress another, 160

even over the queen,’ added the seneschal, detecting the hidden edges in his words, drawing them out from behind his ability to conceal.

‘Really? And what makes you say that?’ he quipped, taking another attempt at keeping his secret, but the seneschal was centuries older than he, and though he might be a practised spinner of lies, and a master of flesh and sorcery, she had the years of skill at reading lost truths in the mannerisms and inflexions of others.

‘Your enthusiasm for the project increased significantly once I revealed the guest of honour.’

‘I had no idea I had been so clumsily obvious,’ he stated with a dark tenor to his words, infuriated not with the seneschal but with himself for having let himself be read so easily.

‘It was subtle, my duke. Your love for her remains covert,’ soothed the seneschal, putting a hand to the shoulder of his robes and treating him to a compassionate smile that unfortunately boarded on patronisation. With a little moue of temper he shuffled her hand off and regarded her with a haughty arrogance.

‘We
all
have our vices and obsessions, seneschal.

Though some are more attainable than others.’

The seneschal stiffened as though slapped, and Kira winced inwardly, expecting some manner of argument or conflict to ensue. But the seneschal merely loosened her anger and smiled, aware that both of them shared the same doom – to love and distress about that which was unattainable.

‘
Touché
, my duke,
touché
,’ she acknowledged, before the duke suddenly changed the topic, this being a subject neither of them wished to dwell upon any longer, it being far too personal and close to their hearts to contend with a conversation into it.

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‘And how is little Kira finding my architecture?’ he asked, looking to her as she tried to keep herself discreet and unnoticed.

At the issuing of her name she turned to them and saw that both were now regarding her. Her lips fumbled for a moment and then found a voice. ‘It’s amazing, my lord.

I don’t know how to express my… my…’

‘Reverence?’ interjected the seneschal.

‘Awe?’ added the duke with a grin.

‘Yes, my lord, but where are we?’ she asked, looking about the ludicrous structure, unsure of how something so alien could actually exist outside of a nightmare. ‘Are we still in the field?’

‘In a way; this place was forged in the realms beyond our own, in the twilight domains… do you mind me telling her this, seneschal?’ he enquired, unsure whether Cassandra wanted Kira briefed in the arcane truths loitering behind the calm face of the material world.

‘Of course not, duke,’ she stated, stepping behind Kira, reaching around and taking hold of her, holding a breast and stretching down to stroke the front of her underwear with her other hand; Kira melting into her owner’s arms with a soft purr of relish. ‘Enlighten her as you wish.’

‘In dreams we visit the spheres beyond our own, where thought controls the formless matter about us, allowing us to conjure with our subconscious. In the real world matter is more coherent, requiring earth power to help us use this same skill to alter forms. Trances, astral projection and spirit walking allow deeper travel, but only those adept at true sorcery may travel these deepest of regions unassisted.’

The seneschal swung the leash between Kira’s legs and drew it up, causing the chain to press into her like a steel crotch rope. Gentle tugs caused its rippled length 162

to tease her, the cold metal riding down her front, pulling at her collar before ascending between her buttocks. Kira clenched to it in fits as she listened to the duke, the seneschal kissing her neck, her soft lips brushing her skin just below her ears, her fangs emerging to draw the smooth enamel upon her earlobes, delivering prickly pecks of adoration.

‘Beyond these voids lay the deepest realms, where Gaia and the Wyrm fight for supremacy, taking new domains, losing others in an eternal struggle,’ said the duke, stepping forward, unable to resist entering the scene before him. With a shrug he freed his hands of the folds of cloth and reached out to enclose his palms to Kira’s naked breasts, holding the soft flesh, using his thumbs to brush her teats. The touches had them stiffening immediately, the haze of sensual crapulence descending through her as the two of them teased her for their amusement. Kira tottered on her heels, her eyes flitting shut as she surrendered to their manipulation.

‘We warlocks use these realms to scry and to learn, walking the hazardous voids such as these to gain insight and learning about the powers themselves, for like ripples in a pond, the battle occurring far away allows glimpses to the wise. With a concerted effort we created this place and set its defences to prevent access by any interlopers.’

The duke enclosed pinches to her nipples, rolling the nuggets between his fingers, lifting, bringing Kira to tiptoe as she swayed and gasped with rapture. The seneschal continued to draw upon the leash, riding it against her loins, her thong becoming damp with her amorousness. The other hand descended and drew nails across her rear, leaving light scratches upon the flesh, little pips of harried joy dribbling over Kira’s pursed lips.

‘The monoliths are part of a massive power network 163

established long ago. Lupine forces seeking to thwart our use of such power have destroyed much of it, but enough remains to allow us to exploit some of the primary mustering points. Sites such as the one you just saw are used as a sort of transformer of earth power, magnifying our powers, and siphoning more energy than we could hope to gather otherwise. The ley lines funnel energy to these places, storing it, and with this we created the stable Wyrm hole that allows travel to and from this construct.’

The duke released his hold and the seneschal drew Kira back against her body, the latex dress slithering against her spine as the woman gyrated with sloth against her possession.

‘Are you bringing her to the feast, seneschal?’ asked the duke, ending his lesson.

‘Of course. I’ve developed quite an attraction for my personal maid, I think she deserves to experience the revelry, and besides, she should at least see those she will be accompanying on the hunt.’

‘You are going to give her a place?’ wondered the duke, taken aback by the statement.