John Wright - Titans of Chaos

Boreas strode hugely forward, seized me roughly by the shoulders, lowered his head, and, before I could protest, bruised my lips with a savage and forceful kiss. I was crushed up against his wide chest, and the embrace pushed the breath out of my lungs.

A sensation of warmth and weakness traveled up my spine and spread to my limbs, making them feel tingly and heavy. I am sure I tried to say something, but it just came out as Mmf-mm, Mm-mml I could smell the scent from his body.

Wow. He was a good kisser."

He drew his head back and looked quickly to his right and left. There was moisture on his chest where I had been pushed up against him, little moist droplets.

"Well, your beau is a man of greater self-control than I had given him credit for." He looked left and right again, calling out loudly, "Come out, come out, wherever you are, or I shall surely kiss her again!"

"Don't kiss me again."

He kissed me again.

When he was done, Boreas set me down on the edge of the bathtub, and he stepped back, still looking slightly puzzled that he had not been attacked.

He stepped over to the window and had one foot on the sill, his wide red wings to me.

I put my hands to either side of me on the bathtub rim and pushed myself upright. My feet were flat on the floor, knees together. My wet hair lay heavily along my spine.

I said, "My cell phone number is-," and I told him the number.

Boreas turned his head and looked over his wing-cloaked shoulder. "I can find you at any time."

I said, "Not for long. Good evening, Headmaster."

He looked for a moment as if he were about to question me on that point, but then he shook his head, whether in amusement, or sorrow, pride, or disgrace, I could not guess. He said, "Good evening, Miss W- Amelia."

"What?"

"May I call you Amelia? I did save you from certain dangers you encountered, and have acted to protect you on other occasions. Since this apparently will be my role henceforward, I do not think it improper to ask. May I?"

I frowned. "Headmaster, I do not understand you, and I certainly cannot trust you. I don't understand any reason for anything you do. So perhaps, considering the circumstances, we had best keep our relationship formal."

He snorted. "My reasons for doing what I did are very simple. Pellucid."

"Tell me."

He drew a deep sigh, but his brow furrowed. "My lord Terminus sent his dying message to me.

Not to his wife, not to his sons. Me. He was a great man. You have seen how dangerous and willful his sons are; you can guess how powerful his foes in Chaos are. Yet, he ruled them all.

Under his reign, there was peace, order, and even some justice. I have done as I have been bid; it is a measure of his foresight that things have turned out as well as they have. Does that explain my soul to you, little girl? I do not think you know the love a loyal follower can feel for a great leader, or know what a leader must do to win that loyalty."

I said softly, "I think I can imagine it..."

"Then farewell for now, Miss Windrose. I imagine I shall hear great things of you in the future."

And he fell from the window, caught the night air in his great wide wings, rose, and was gone.

Colin shimmered and appeared as he yanked the ring of Gyges off his finger. In his other hand, he brandished the truncheon he had from his demon-form, a scepter glittering with black energies.

"Next time I kill him! Oh, God, I swear! Next time! Pow! He's a lump of dead meat! I would have done it this time, too, if Quentin hadn't zapped me!"

A segment of the darkness beyond the second window pushed itself into the frame, and when it ebbed, Quentin was standing there, a cloak as dark and weightless as the night sky drawn all around him.

He gestured, and all the windows slid shut. A pressure in my ears told me that all the sounds carried on the winds had been hushed.

Quentin said gently to Colin, "It was well for you that I did. Now then, give me the ring. As soon as the stars are right, I can cast the spell to confound the fate that allows the Master of the North Wind to find her, and let her wear the ring while the spell takes hold. Gyges' ghost will blind even the senses used by Boreas to find her."

In the other room, the fireplace swung open on hidden hinges, and Victor and Vanity came out from the secret passage. Victor was also carrying an Amazonian-style weapon he had constructed.

I could see, in the secret room beyond, the slab on which the two duplicates of me Victor had made or grown were resting; one was dressed in my San Diego evening dress, the other in my red bathing suit.

Vanity's eyes were round and wide.

"Wow! I cannot believe you just let him kiss you!" And she marched up to Quentin and slapped his face.

"Ouch." He said mildly, "May I ask what that was for?"

"You are staring at her breasts!"

He offered her the crook of his arm. "Let us go the twenty yards down the secret passage to our rooms overlooking the French Riviera. I will be happy to stare at yours." I saw him put the ring of Gyges carefully in his pocket, and he escorted her out of the room.

There I was in the bathroom, alone with two men who loved me, naked as a jaybird, cold, and wet.

I looked back and forth between them, and they stared awkwardly at each other.

Colin said to Victor, "I'll wrestle you for her."

Victor stepped over to me, seized me by the shoulders, picked me up to my feet, and then an inch or so above that, so I was standing on my tiptoes. He bent his head down and kissed me. Not as roughly as Boreas had done, but much, much more thoroughly.

Wow. He was a pretty good kisser, too. Like everything else he put his mind to, Victor Triumph was driven to excel at this.

When Victor drew his head away, I could barely breathe, and I guess I did not want to breathe any air that did not have the warm smell of Victor on it. I put my cheek up against his chest.

Victor said to Colin, "We have been wrestling. You've lost two falls out of three. No hard feelings, I hope, old sport."

He put out his hand.

For a moment, I was sure Colin was going to spit at him, or throw down his truncheon, or something. But he exercised his self-control, put out his hand, and shook.

Colin said, "Okay. Fine. Maybe the man was right. A half-blind monkey could see it from a mile away on a foggy day."

As he was heading out through the fireplace door, he turned. With a little gleam of impishness in his eye, he said, "Or maybe not. The contest is not over yet. Girls like a man who can push them around, not vice versa."

Victor said sardonically, "You can play with the robot doll of her, if you like."

Colin stepped out behind the fireplace, which swung shut behind him, leaving me alone, gloriously alone, with Victor.

I said, "Now let me put on some clothes."

He said, "Not yet."

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John C. Wright burst onto the SF scene with his wildly acclaimed Golden Age trilogy (The Golden Age, The Phoenix Exultant, and The Golden Transcendence) and emerged as a unique new voice in fantasy with The Last Guardian of Everness and Mists of Everness. He now continues in his Nebula-nominated Chronicles of Chaos series.