Erik de Bie - Depths of Madness

The words caught Liet as surely as a hand on his arm. He stopped and turned. She expected him to look shocked, but he didn't blink.

"Nay," he said simply. "Not… not for her."

Oh, no.

Twilight smiled slightly and stepped toward him. She could feel her heart in her throat. She let the collar of her silk blouse slip, revealing one pale, smooth shoulder. "For me?" she asked. "You'd have died for me?"

Liet fidgeted. Sweat appeared on his brow, and she heard his racing heartbeat and heavy breathing. On some level, Twilight knew she was being somewhat pitiful-he was such a boy-but she found his feelings deeply flattering. Twilight felt her own pulse pick up-an experience she knew all too well and loathed just the same.

Stop yourself, wench, she thought. Don't do this.

"Speak," she said, stepping forward. "Don't lie. I'll know." They were almost touching when Twilight stopped and looked into Liet's face. "Would you die for me?"

Silence hung between them for a long breath. Twilight read the youth's tells-every twitch of his cheek, the way his eyes purposefully avoided her, the shifting of his weight-while Liet paused. She could see his battle-a war of will against instinct. One told him to flee, another told him to catch up Twilight's lithe form in his arms and crush her to him.

Twilight wondered idly which she embodied: instinct or will. She almost always preferred the latter, but it was so rarely the case.

"Aye." Liet looked in her eyes, unflinching. "Aye, I would," he said.

She knew then that this was a victory over every-admittedly good-instinct that told Liet to flee, and she loved that, almost venerated it. Twilight was ever a creature who worshiped her own destruction.

"Oh, damn," she said to herself.

With a flick of her wrist and a foot behind his ankle, she had Liet falling to the ground in a breath. This time, she was not about to beat him. Instead, she pressed her lithe body into his young, muscular frame. He made startled sounds, but she silenced him with a long, all-consuming kiss.

By the time she pulled away, leaving his tongue free to move, it was obvious Liet had forgotten whatever it was he'd been about to say. He looked at her without thought, blissful, innocent.

Twilight went for his tunic, but Liet stopped her with a wince. She remembered his scarred arms, but she decided it didn't matter. She went for the breeches instead.

"Uh, 'Light…" he started, but she kissed him again to shut his mouth. It worked.

"I should warn you," Twilight said candidly as she tore at his laces. "You've got some boots to fill. I've known-"

Liet put his fingers to her lips. "Nay," he said, eyes soft, vulnerable.

Twilight stopped. She realized the tale would hurt him, but that was who she was. So many men, so many times. Didn't he see?

Of course he didn't see. No one had-no one but…

Damn you, Erevan, Twilight swore inwardly. You and Neveren and Lilten, and all your lackeys-even Nym. I don't need you-I don't need any of you. Not anyone!

" 'Light? Are you… well?"

Twilight looked into mismatched eyes full of hope and fear. She realized that this boy had never known a lover, but it didn't matter. He was ready to accept her, banish their loneliness-but at the same time, he was terrified of her. Or terrified for her?

"You're scared." She brushed his cheek with the back of her fingers.

"N-no…" Liet's body shook.

"You should be," Twilight said. "But not for the reason you think."

Liet's face broke into a tentative smile. It was the most beautiful thing she remembered seeing in a long, long time.

Oh no, she thought, just before will became instinct again and she devoured him. Twilight crushed his lips and levered her wiry body to keep his pinned.

"Now you have one more answer to give," she said between furious kisses. With each one, she thought the same word: damn, damn, damn. "And I want the truth."

Liet nodded frantically, his eyes terrified.

Leaning in close, Twilight ran her raven hair across his cheek, tickling his skin with its softness. "Silk?" she asked, "or…" she seized his ear and bit down just hard enough to secure a gasp. "Teeth?"

"Ah," said Liet. "Uh, I don't… this does not seem quite the way… ah, heh…"

"Very well, then," said Twilight. "I shall make that decision."

Distantly, Gestal watched the two bodies entwined, delighting in one another, with something between absorbed curiosity and clinical dispassion.

"Perfect," he said to no one in particular. No one could hear him, after all. "I couldn't have planned this better-well, actually… hmm."

His ears caught something to which the lovers were oblivious, though the sense was more than simply aural. The walls were shifting again. The enemy was not idle.

"You thirst for attention like a puppy, always barking your nonsense," he said. "You hate others but you cannot live without them."

Gestal's eyes looked over the elf's writhing body with desire and disappointment.

"You are lying again, child-to us and to yourself."

Her sweaty face, locked in passion, turned toward him briefly, but she did not respond. She had not heard him speak. Gestal visualized running his claws down that soft spine.

"You expect this to end as all the tales do-with the villain dead and the heroes in bed." Gestal shook his head. "But not this story. Not this one."

Then it was over, and Gestal grinned as he faded into silence once more.

Now it would be easy-so easy-to drive her to the master.

"Did you tell me about rule four in earnest, or so that I'd break it?" Liet asked as he traced the elf's-no, nymph's spine. The star on her lower back-asymmetrical, with many rays-gleamed, hot to the touch. He loved how she shivered when he touched it.

"Rules exist for a purpose," said Twilight. She lay on her belly at his side.

"Was that an aye, or a nay?"

"Neither," she said, "though if you were to fall in love with me, 'twould make you more pliable, and assure your loyalty."

"I've never known a woman," Liet said. "I mean, I had never-"

She laughed. "I had guessed."

Liet smiled. He found his mind drawn back to her other tattoo-the silver and black fox below her belly.

Then he saw a queer light in her eye. "What?" he asked.

"You must go now," said Twilight. She pulled her cloak from under him and wrapped it about her body.

Liet blinked. "What?" he asked. "B-but, we-"

"Enjoyable, I do confess. But now you have to go." Her face was utterly serious.

"Can I not… ah…" Liet reached toward her, to trace his fingers down one bare arm. "Can I not stay here with you?" Twilight twisted aside slightly and he touched only stone. "My love? My goddess?"

She put a finger to his lips. Then she shook her head, and he felt his heart stumble.

"Against my better instincts, I lead this traveling feast-er, party, and I can't be seen to favor one member over another."

Liet made to protest, and Twilight silenced him as she had before-with her lips.

"And that's why you have to go. Tell the others that we'll take the tunnel to the sanctum in the morning, as though I was merely discussing plans with you." She reclined against the corridor wall and stretched her arms. "And see if Taslin's conjured up some food-I'm famished."

Liet, adrift in confusion, could do nothing but stare at her. Then, when Twilight reached for his arm, he came back to his senses with a twinge. He pulled away, fighting his outrage down. He wouldn't get angry. He was better than that.

He wondered if she truly thought so little of him.

"But," he said, "but no one's seen us at-"

"No, but if you don't sleep in your own blankets, it'll have the same effect."

"B-but-" Liet started.

Twilight did nothing but stare into the dark corridor ahead. Liet studied her, long and hard. He perceived a minuscule wince at the edge of Twilight's left eye-the tiniest of flaws in her defenses. And underneath that cold exterior was an even darker chill. He wondered if she hadn't meant for him to see that.