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Arms of the Ocean Ch. 01

By: TheWanderingCat



Author's note:

This can sort of be considered a prologue of sorts. First time putting anything on this site so let me hear some feedback if you feel like giving any. Don't be gentle now.

===

The water felt like ice upon his skin but his mind was too distracted by the beauty surrounding him to care. He lay back, instantly familiar with the sensations before they even began. The creature that had him in her grip flowed like the water in which they both floated, deep beneath the surface of the ocean.

The woman smiled as she again leaned in on Ronav to plant her lips upon his. His opportunity to breathe that she gave far less frequently than she knew she should. He didn't care. The way her lips danced across his left him yearning for their return, not for air but for the sensation. The warm wetness, different to the surrounding water, and the danger of so many razor teeth deeper in her mouth.

She pulled backwards but allowed her long tongue to linger and slide down his chin and neck to the top of his chest. A flutter of fear shot through Ronav a moment as he wondered if she might truly be tasting him this time. Then she came upright and flashed another jagged smile. There was the look he loved. Her rows of ivory-white teeth that rose and fell like those of a shark. She framed her face with fanning curtains of translucent, orange hair that billowed amid the ocean's currents. Just as Ronav thought that he could stare at that picture forever, it folded in as she swept herself away amid the tall lengths of seaweed that grew around them

Ronav spun in a circle as he searched, his beauty always did this. Always teased him, vanishing and returning to fill him with as much fear and longing as his heart could hold.

Two arms closed over his shoulders from behind and Ronav twisted his head around to meet her mouth as it arrived. He turned to press his chest to hers in anticipation of what would surely come next.

Ronav's lungs filled but this time the woman didn't disengage. Instead a new sensation began to spread down his front. Something new moved though the woman. It kissed against his skin as it descended, a new mouth that she had formed from her body. It always came as a surprise at first but the exciting alienness of it left Ronav wanting only more.

The woman's second set of lips slowed to an aching pace once it reached his stomach. Every moment he could feel it drawing ever closer to his pulsing member, now harder than anything else in the ocean. He wanted her so badly, and she knew this, but only when she had had her fun would he have his. The creature thrived off her jests.

A second tongue that came from its new home by his stomach crept out and began to work its way over his muscles. Occasionally it dipped so far down that, for a moment, Ronav thought it might at last bring him some relief. It always paused short and dodged away at the last second and always did that make the woman giggle through her kiss at his distress.

Meanwhile his tongue fought with hers in their mouths. Ronav pushed his forwards and tried to press past the woman's teeth. She did not scare him and he would show her this. But, as always, he found the way closed, only to reopen and their passion to continue once he had retreated back to his own mouth. The battle would only ever take place there.

Ronav let out a gasp suddenly and his cock jerked. She had reached it at last. He could feel her lips sliding down and folding around it. Above, she pulled her mouth away from his and smiled once more, acutely aware of what her actions were doing to him. She loved controlling the entirety of their coupling and he loved her for that.

Ronav tipped his head back as her lower lips at last encompassed his cock fully. He could feel the tongue coiling around him, still clearly a mouth down there. Where had her normal folds migrated to, he wondered briefly? No doubt his shape-shifting beauty would reveal that soon enough.


Her lower tongue pulled, rubbed and teased as it sucked upon him. Every now and then she pulled back so far that Ronav feared she might stop entirely, only to plunge herself back down and for the curious fellatio to continue. She kept her work up for several minutes of teasing his meat and occasionally migrating for a moment to greet his balls.

"Vy bela Shasling," the creature whispered in his ear suddenly, her voice like music. "Knaeva chaltis." 

Amid the heating, electrified sensations surrounding his member, Ronav felt a change taking place. His partner's lips shifted, rippled and reformed until a soft, satisfied gasp from her lips heralded the completion of her transformation. He could feel at once what had happened. No longer did a pseudo-mouth encompass his cock. Her heavenly folds had returned.

Offering another breath of air through her lips, the woman clutched Ronav and dragged him deeper towards the sandy floor of the sea. He felt a pang of fear that she might be pulling him to the bottom in earnest this time but his worries were pushed aside as she held him close to let him breathe.

They flipped over on the descent so that she sat atop and effectively rode him down. Yet none of that took place just yet. Ronav, once comfortable with traveling, tried to push deep into her but she would not allow it. The woman's naturally-moist, quivering pussy gripped his rod tight and refused to let go. Only she decided how things progressed. No matter what he desired, that was how this always went.

At last he felt his back land upon the loose, sinking sand of the ocean floor and his cock nearly leapt in anticipation as though it knew that they could finally proceed. She fell upon to lock lips once more and, for a moment, her moderate breasts pressed against his skin, nipples grazing his chest. Taking it as a reminder, Ronav lifted his hands to caress each with his coarse palms. 

She smiled, eyes closed, moaned softly and held his hands against her. Then came the moment that he had been yearning for since the beginning. Her lips and chasm finally released their hold upon his cock. Ronav pushed deeper at once and a wave of pleasure washed through him. 

She felt amazing, as always. The feeling that only a shape-shifter could offer. Her folds moved like the currents around them, ever changing. One thrust she felt soft and supple as silk or honey, the next she clamped down gently and became tenser, tighter and with all sorts of additions to further caress his cock. It felt as if each thrust was into a different woman, so many of which were impossible yet here they sat atop him.

Ronav stared at her as she met each ramming of his with one of her own. She looked almost to be enjoying it more than he. Perhaps that was the best part, he decided. Nothing was ever too rough for this creature, he had learned that long ago. Not their setting nor his weight nor the vigor with which he pounded into her, or she upon he, ever proved to be too harsh.

"Weeress, harder," she gasped as if reading his thoughts, her words switching to common as they did for instructions. "Be strong for me, Taigin."

Ronav slid his hands from under hers and took hold instead of her upper arms. With the added purchase, he began pulling her down to his hilt on every thrust. Ronav's efforts were met immediately by a cry of approval.

"Oh," she groaned, falling upon him to refill his lungs. "There he is."

The passage of time ceased as Ronav held her close, bucking his hips practically on their own volition into her sopping-wet folds. She ground against him, breasts pressing to his chest and flattening out. Her entire body had begun to ripple. The way she quivered on every thrust told him that she was close.

"Yes, just there. Don't stop," she panted amid moans.

Ronav took her ecstatic distraction as a chance to put himself in command. He rolled over, pushing her to the sand and drove in deep with his next thrust. He too had almost reached his peak.

Moments later her body began to tremble and a long, intoxicated moan flowed from her lips. "Haaaa," she cried, her body starting to convulse.

Ronav's cock was swept up too in the woman's orgasm. Her pussy fluttered upon him, clenching and grasping for more and she held him tight out of some foolish fear that he might stop partway through.

Not long after that, aided by the rapid changes and myriad sensations that her amazing pussy was bringing about, Ronav exploded into her. He grunted, bubbles escaping his lips, and began to push harder and deeper with every wave and convulsion that his cock underwent.

Then, as always happened, mere moments into his orgasm, the intensity of it all shook him free of the dream. He awoke sweating and to a deep dampness in the furs of his bed. For a while he lay still, unwilling to yet leave the wonders of the dreamworld behind. All that, the ocean, the water and his shape-shifting partner, had been several months ago now. Yet still he revisited her almost every night.

"Where are you?" he whispered to the darkness of the early morning.

Arms of the Ocean Ch. 02



Author's note: Now we dive straight into things. While I certainly plan for this series to have plenty of sex, there will also be a large focus on story.

'===

Ronav sat at the table of his single-room home, a warm bowl of porridge sweetened by honey in front of him. He ate slowly, still reliving the dream as vividly as the day that it had happened.

He had been fishing out on the rocks at the time, not the wisest of places, he had to admit. They were slippery and treacherous when it rained, as it so often did, but only there could the best fish be found in abundance. What came next anyone could have predicted. Ronav had soon found himself deep in the sea at the hands of a large wave and the accompanying wind.

He recalled panic and fear as all the warnings and stories came spilling back. Once you were this far in the ocean without a ship to stand upon, you weren't coming back out. They would find you, gut you and eat you as they would a fish. So when he had seen the creature, the Siren, bounding and surging through the waves as he floundered towards the rocks, Ronav had known at once that there would be no hope.

She had been quick in dragging him under and baring her razor teeth for the kill. Ronav had struggled with all the might that his Taigin blood gave him but his strength had proven as effective as pushing water uphill with one's hands.

Then something stopped the Siren and she regarded him differently all of a sudden. To this day, Ronav could not understand why her interests had shifted so drastically. His only clue suggested that perhaps she had eaten mere minutes ago, judging by the tell-tale sign of scraps between her teeth.

So, rather than devouring him, the woman had planted her lips over his for the first of what would be many offerings of air. Then she had dragged a perplexed Ronav further away from land and given him the best lay he had ever had, or had had since. Afterwards he had awoken on a beach outside town with several teeth-marks on his neck and chest suggesting that the Siren had briefly considered the possibility of a post-coital snack.

Ronav pushed his breakfast aside, too much reminiscing had made the hour later than he normally let it go. He finger-combed his coarse brown hair, speckled with patches of green and sought out his fishing rod.

The town of Ripples on the Water still slept as he left the house and began the walk towards the harbor and beyond to his private fishing place. Ronav greeted some of the other early risers as he passed. Dockworkers and boatmen, mostly. Those who actually went out to sea. Despite his experience, nobody could offer him enough to sail out on a ship. The tales that came back of Siren raiders were never pleasant. Besides, he had to meet his ocean mistress in private.

Up ahead some disturbance was taking place. Several workers stood around a net still hooked to its crane. Ronav squinted in the dim morning light and saw at once what had them concerned. Movement came from within as something struggled to free itself, too strong to be anything small. A shark, perhaps.

As he got closer, the Chayli among the workers flew up on shimmering wings of wind, knife in hand, to sever the net from its hook. The winged man hovered alongside the rope and quickly cut through, allowing the net, along with its contents, to spill to the dock and splatter across the thick-cut boards. Every man along with Ronav jumped back at once and several cried out at what they had caught.

A Taigin man lay in the net, his body clad in the tattered remnants of clothing with bruises and cuts all over his light brown skin. He lifted a weak hand to those around him as the dockworkers swarmed in. Ronav dropped his fishing gear and ran forwards to join them, already aware of their intent. No Taigin, or any land person for that matter, survived in the ocean long enough to be swept up like this. All present suspected a Siren in disguise. A sire? What were their men called?

"Wait, please!" the man cried as those around him brandished their tools as makeshift weapons. "I'm a Taigin, can you not see?"

"Still your tongue, water demon," the Chayli snarled as he drew his knife back for the killing blow.

Ronav, without enough time to think of the consequences, dove forwards and embraced the wounded man. "Talin! Oh thank Ka it's you!" he shouted with his words full of false relief. Out of the corners of his eyes, Ronav could see the men around him hesitating.

The 'Taigin' also hesitated a moment before catching on to the ruse. "Neril, my brother. Ka has indeed shown me mercy."

With false reluctance, Ronav pulled away to speak to the confusion growing around him. "The waves pulled Talin from the rocks yesterday, I thought him dead."

Several of the dockworkers still regarded Ronav and his 'brother' with wary eyes but one spoke up at last. "Ah, I lost a friend the same way. You should steer clear of the rocks and go out on a ship instead. They're far safer."

"From now we will," Ronav replied with a face he hope showed relief. What he felt underneath was far from it. He looked back at the creature in his arms who regarded him with curiosity and confusion. Where would they go from here?

Ronav stood, helped his 'brother' to his feet and placed an arm around him to keep the act going as they walked away to somewhere more private. An alleyway between a tavern and a brothel that Ronav had visited in the past yet found no relief. As soon as the creature knew that it was out of sight, it slipped from Ronav's grasp and faced him.

"Speak now, Shasling. What manner of trick are you playing?" from the Siren's hands came a ripple and two glimmering blades of coral emerged.

"Heh," Ronav laughed nervously, his entire plan catching up already. Why help this Siren? To try and find the woman from his dreams? But that made no sense. What guarantee was there that one Siren knew another?

"You have three more seconds, Shasling," warned the man, his hands sliding in closer.

"Ah, wait!" Ronav begged and he backed up while warding off his would-be attacker. "I need your help is all."

'Talin' hesitated momentarily as his face relaxed the slightest bit before resuming his cold, harsh expression. "And why would I help you, Sye?"

"B—because I saved your life... right? They were going to kill you."

"I suppose that could be true," he said and drearily toyed with one of the knives. "Am I now indebted to you?"

From the Siren's cold, inquisitive look, Ronav knew at once that this was not a question to get wrong. "Uh, ye— well. I mean, maybe sort of a little. If you want, I gue— Aha, okay," Ronav stammered and drew in a sharp breath as the man pressed one of the knives to Ronav's neck.

"You're a curious one, Sye. Perhaps I shall hear you out after all." Then the creature pulled back and the knives re-sheathed themselves in his hands.

"You— you will? Uh that's, that's... good." Ronav swallowed and allowed himself a nervous smile. Why did he get the sense that, by granting this request, the Siren had only dug a deeper grave? "Do you want to talk somewhere a bit less constricting?" Ronav asked with a gesture to the alleyway surrounding them.

"Lead," 'Talin' commanded.

Though he knew it to be against his better judgment, Ronav returned to his home with the Siren in tow. The best thing to try perhaps would have been to lead his 'friend' to the town garrison. He had almost made the turn off main street to do so until a cold realization had told Ronav that such a deception could very likely backfire and get him killed. Even if it did work, he had earlier helped the Siren. How would that be viewed? So, as they reached their destination, Ronav's only security against discovery or death came from locking the door behind him and reminding himself of exactly where he had left the spare fishing knife the night before. In the top draw of his bedside table. He made sure to position himself by it immediately.

Ronav sat upon his fur-covered bed and watched as his guest glanced around the single room while maintaining a stance that one would associate with a tiger poising to strike. There would be no fooling this man. Not easily, at least.

"So, you're not really a Taigin, ah?" Ronav asked. He knew the answer to that, of course, but this was the only way he could think to break the ice that had hung over them both during the entire journey.

"Clearly, you foolish Sye!" 'Talin' snarled. "Why? Would you prefer I present my true form?"

"If it's not too much trouble, I suppose."

The creature smiled, clearly amused by the nervousness that it was invoking. "Very well." Immediately a rippling began across the Siren's clothes and skin. Colors began to blend and change as limbs shortened and narrowed. When the transformation finished, the figure standing before Ronav had taken on a far more feminine form.

"You're a woman?" Ronav exclaimed before he could bite back his tongue.

"Naturally. Our men are not allowed to leave the sea."

Ronav didn't have a reply for that, partly because the sway and shape of the Siren had begun to distract him. She was not the one from his dream, he could tell at once. This one had jet black hair, a pale, clear face, a slim waist and, he had to note, large, full breasts that appeared to strain against the aqua blue evening gown she wore. Why a gown, Ronav wondered. Then he realized that if her clothes were a part of her body, she could wear whatever she wished without fear of how it would restrict.

"What are you gawking at?" she asked, her voice not nearly as soft and beautiful as everything else about her.

"Nothing, nothing," Ronav said hastily as he tore his eyes towards her face. "Do you have a name?"

"Vyla. Now cease your stalling and tell me what it is that you want." Vyla collapsed into a chair opposite him and put her feet up on the small table at which he ate.

"Uh, okay." Ronav stopped there to think. How to explain this? I need you to help me find a Siren that fucked me in the ocean a few months ago? No, there had to be a more roundabout approach. "Okay, so a while back I was out fishing on some rocks outside town when a wave struck me and knocked me into the sea. I thought I'd drown but then this... other Siren comes out of nowhere and, and helps me to shore. Now I need your help to find her again."

"Why?" Vyla asked, her voice filled with disinterest.

"Well, because I didn't get the chance to thank her..."

"No, why did she rescue you rather than kill you, as was her duty."

"I've been wondering that too. Maybe she—"

"You're lying to me, Taigin."

"No, I—"

"You are." Vyla stood and began moving towards him. "You think that I, a Siren and mistress of deception, cannot see through such a pathetic charade?"

"I hoped you wouldn't," Ronav blurted out before he could stop himself.

"Y—you hoped?" Vyla said as she halted her advance. "You hoped." Her lips pinched together but began to quiver at the corners as if she was struggling desperately not to smile. In fact, that looked to be exactly the case. Her efforts grew more and more strained as the seconds passed until finally the stifled air exploded from her lungs. "Gahahaha, you hoped that I would let your lies slip by?" she cackled and Ronav found himself joining her while unable to tear away from the amazing things that her laughter was doing to her chest. "Oh Sye, you're like a fool at the queen's court," said Vyla as her composure began to return.

Ronav smiled nervously. "The queen's fools don't have a high turnover rate, do they?" he asked.

"That depends," Vyla said, her voice velvet poison as she slipped in close to him, knife appearing in hand. "Most have their hearts cut out and fed to the sharks should they fail to entertain the queen. But the ones who do are well rewarded." Then, as quickly as she had flitted in, Vyla swept back away, brushing Ronav's cheek on her way out.

He frowned in confusion. Did she mean to threaten him or flirt with him? Was she even flirting? Too many strange and potentially life-threatening things were going on for Ronav's comfort.

"But we are not at the queen's court, are we? We're weaving through your paltry web of lies." Vyla returned to her seat and began to toy idly with the coral blade in her hand. She twirled the knife around her fingers but Ronav looked past it to the pale, smooth skin her body that she showed quite readily. Her gown clung to her skin and hung low on her ample endowments. Had the cut descended even further since last he had had the chance to see? 

"I think I know the true story, Sye," said Vyla, her words, softer than before, tearing through Ronav's daydreaming. "I think that you were dragged deep into the water and ravished by an ocean beauty, only to be ruined to all woman on land. That is the story, yes?"

"Uh..."

"It is understandable. Ours is not a prudish race like those who live up here. We are each well practiced in the ways of the flesh, be it to please or to pain, to indulge or to injure, ecstasize or exsanguinate." Vyla slid down in her chair until she practically lay on her side in some strange contortion only possible to her kind. The position, like so much else of what she did, showed off her figure. The gown she wore even threatened to slide out of place and reveal all of what little it still hid. But she didn't let that happen. "So you want me to help you find your mysterious lover, hmm? I thought that Shaslings were meant to fear the ocean."

"What's a Shasling?" Ronav asked, overlooking the idle teasing of her tone. He had heard her use that word a lot. "And what's a Sye?" he added.

"You live on land so you are a Shasling, land dweller. And since you are male, you are a Sye. I am female, Siren."

"Uhuh, and no, I'm not afraid of the ocean," said Ronav.

"Really?" Vyla asked as she grinned in such a way that she bore her razor teeth. "Are you quite certain of that, Sye? I can see the lust in your eyes. Have you not heard what they say about the skin depth of beauty?" As she said that, Vyla twisted around, tilted back towards Ronav and slowly sank to the floor. Her mouth opened wide and wider still until it began to gape further than any other creature would be capable. Vyla's head gradually shrank away, consumed by her growing maw, until it could be seen as little more than a stump with a great, toothy opening. Ronav could only watch, heart starting to race, as her tongue began to emerge from the blackness within. Like the opening of her mouth, Vyla's tongue crept normally at first. Then, as it extended past natural lengths, it began to drag her teeth along too, then her throat. The air filled with a series of sickening clicks and squelches as Vyla staggered onto the floor on all fours, crawling towards Ronav with the long, fleshy and jagged tentacle in her mouth extended to him. 

Ronav's thoughts turned to fleeing the scene before him but his limbs refused to obey. He balled his fists tight around the furs of his bed. Vyla's tongue continued to consume and turn her body inside out as she shuffled towards him, one hand or foot at a time. Then, just as she had almost reached him, the tip of her tongue bulged and her head emerged, whole and unmarred. She looked up at him with a cheeky grin as the rest of her body steadily slipped from its fleshy cocoon. Ronav wanted to look away but his muscles had yet to resume their obedience, Besides, partially as a consolation, he got the sense that she meant for him to see this.

At last Vyla lay before him, whole once again and clad in her gown. As usual, it clung to her in such a way that little could be left to the imagination. "Did you like that, Sye?" she asked, her voice filled with innocence. "Do you think me as pretty on the inside as you do on the out?"

Ronav met her eyes, one blue and one green. Surely they hadn't always looked that way? He had his answer at once as the colors swapped sides, then changed to amber. "I, uh, think that it's very impressive what you can do, uh, with your body. And!" he added hastily as she began to pout, "And that's pretty, in its own way."

"Mmm," she hummed and rose. Ronav expected her to slither back to her side of the room but instead she dropped down upon the bed beside him. "You certainly kiss asses and lick boots with the best of them, Sye."

Like so many other things to do with Vyla, Ronav didn't know whether he should be pleased or concerned with her response. Nor did he know if he should shuffle down on the bed to make more room or stand his ground, so to speak. More importantly, what sort of game was the woman playing? She had been so hostile before but that seemed to be quickly melting away. "What do you want?" Ronav asked.

Vyla pouted again and she began to step her fingers along Ronav's leg. "I thought we were talking about what you wanted..."

"Okay!" Ronav lifted his hands high and sprang off the bed as Vyla's fingers drew dangerously close to his crotch. "Can this charade and mess of meanings come to an end now? I don't even know if you're going to help me or not but I'd appreciate knowing what's actually happening here."

Vyla rolled her eyes. "Isn't obvious, Sye? Why track down a woman when you have one here? You want me to be blunt? Then cease the flapping of your jaws, come over here and fuck me."

Her words hit Ronav like a boat smashing itself against a cliff. "What? First you want to kill me, now this?"

"Pah, whoever said I wanted to kill you? Perhaps I simply enjoy watching you squirm like bait on a hook." Vyla lifted her hands to the cut of her gown and began the delicate act of peeling back the slightest bit of fabric. "See?" she said delightedly as Ronav looked away, his cheeks reddening. "So... what is your word? Adorable? No, that is too far..."

"No, I'm not going to... no. I don't want you I want her."

"I could be her, if you wish. Describe the woman for me."

"No."

Vyla's eyes narrowed. "This was cute once— ah yes, that was the word, cute. Yes," she said, breaking her train of thought momentarily with her musing. "But your reluctance is beginning to wear thin. You are fortunate that I ask at all." Vyla stood and walked towards him.

Ronav backed away but she advanced until he hit the corner of the room. 

Vyla moved in and pressed against him. "Were we in the ocean, I would take what I want. Would you like that, Sye? To have the roles reversed in such a way. For one foot to wear the other's shoe."

Ronav refrained from laughing at her butchery of the saying. His mind raced. He didn't want this, did he? That's what his upper brain said. The way the lower one strained against the confines of his trousers betrayed that it thought quite the opposite. Ronav looked Vyla in the eyes. What was her game, he still didn't know. Those liquid pools, both ocean green now, revealed nothing. He could feel her breath upon the exposed skin of his chest and neck. He smelled it, and at once was reminded of his sea mistress and the way she had breathed for him.

"Too slow," Vyla whispered as she moved in. Her lips pressed against his and Ronav didn't resist. 

Did it truly matter what this creature wanted? Perhaps in the future, but that was the future's problem. She would reveal all in time, Ronav suspected. Whatever ulterior motive she had in mind would come about, for better or worse.

Things could go differently this time, Ronav knew. They were on land, his domain. No need to rely on his partner for air or movement. Spurred on by that thought, Ronav pushed away from the wall and half-carried Vyla towards the bed. He sat her upon it and knelt down in front of her as he lifted back the fabric of her gown. The false, blue cloth melted away in his grip to rejoin Vyla's body and revealed the already moist folds of her perfectly formed and hairless pussy underneath.




Arms of the Ocean Ch. 02



Ronav poised his hand at Vyla's entrance and looked tentatively into her eyes. "What are you waiting for, Sye? An invitation?"

Taking that as such, Ronav began rubbing his fingers up and down across the slick mound between Vyla's legs. She moaned softly and reared back, the rest of her gown falling and liquefying to allow her mountainous assets to come free. Upon seeing the grapefruit-sized orbs of flesh, Ronav rose and took the firm, pink nipple of Vyla's right breast into his mouth. She leaned back further until she lay upon the bed, squirming as her lover's fingers worked their magic at the entrance of her snatch

Ronav lapped, teased, nibbled and tugged at the modest nipple between his lips, eliciting gasps, sighs and occasional squeals from Vyla. All the while he stroked his fingers over the Siren's mysterious folds. As with his last encounter, Vyla felt strange to the touch. On one stroke his fingers would move with ease over silky smooth skin and the tiny dimple of her clit while the next found coarser flesh that almost seemed to crawl and ripple as he touch it.

"Enter now, Sye. Do not hold back."

Taking the invitation, Ronav drove a finger into Vyla's trembling snatch and began stroking and exploring her walls. Vyla began to grind and buck her hips against his hand as the ecstasy built within her.

"More," Vyla grunted as she writhed. "Harder."

Rather than simply adding more fingers to his work, Ronav disengaged from the turgid nipple in his mouth and slid down Vyla's body to position his tongue at her entrance. He paused for a moment with the first opportunity that he had ever had to get a good look at the womanhood of a Siren. It looked little different to that of a land woman. Mostly the change was noticeable in the way that Vyla's muscles quivered and spasmed hungrily for gratification. 

Vyla looked down at him between her legs, eyes ablaze with lust. "What are you waiting for!?" she demanded.

Ronav grunted as the Siren's legs clamped around the back of his head and drew him towards her. She gave no quarter as she pressed her hips forwards and drove her hungry snatch to grind against his mouth. Ronav resumed his efforts to please by immediately thrusting his tongue into her sopping pussy as deep as he could manage. 

Vyla gasped and bucked against him but the vice of her legs didn't relax against Ronav's head. If anything, she only pressed harder. Ronav found himself hoping that her release was not far off. Wedged here between the woman's folds and her heels, breathing was beginning to become difficult. His only distraction came from tasting the gushes of girl cum that his tongue found during its exploration. She tasted, somewhat surprisingly, a bit like a lemon, though without the overpowering sourness. 

Suddenly, after Ronav lifted his head as much as he could to nibble delicately upon her clit, Vyla began to huff and spasm with greater intensity than before. Her pussy splattered his face and her legs kicked out as a powerful orgasm crashed over her like a tidal wave. Ronav reached up to steady the woman's legs as he rose and practically tore his trousers off to release his raging member from its confines.

Unlike before, Ronav waited for no encouragement in burying himself deep within the Siren's pulsating pussy. He held down her arms to hold her steady and began thrusting deep into her soaked and fluttering confines. Ronav grunted loudly at the sensations surrounding his steely cock while he plunged down to the hilt and drew back to the tip.

Vyla's orgasm began to subside around thirty thrusts in and she wrapped her legs around Ronav's waist to pull him deeper and better position herself for the sensory barrage she was receiving.

"Amazing," Ronav huffed, commenting on the strange, shifting mystery of the Siren's folds. On each thrust, it almost felt as though her flesh was twisting around his member. He could feel ribs and bumps lining her walls that rubbed and quivered against him every time his throbbing cock made the journey through.

"See now, ah... how a Shasling wench... oh, oh... cannot compare?" Vyla managed amid gasps. 

Ronav only just managed to nod his approval. No woman he had been with in the time between now and his previous coupling with a Siren had come close to their ability in the sack. Vyla's pussy almost seemed to be licking him on several thrusts but Ronav could only guess that she likely had many more tricks up her sleeve. Or up her soaking tunnel, as the case may be.

"A change, haa, is need." Huffing from the pounding that her slick folds were going through, Vyla began to ripple and rise from the bed.

As much as he didn't want to, Ronav had to stop for a moment when his lover's body effectively shape-shifted away from him. arms and legs morphed, rotated and folded through themselves until Vyla sat on her hands and knees like an animal, legs spread wide and snatch born to Ronav.

"This is 'the way of the dog' in your tongue, is it not?"

Ronav smiled to himself as he repositioned to mount her from behind. "Close enough," he said, cock poised at her folds that were presently allowing copious quantities of her juices to flow down the insides of her thighs.

"Ooooh," Vyla moaned as Ronav pushed inside her. "Ah, I like this dog... already."

Ronav begin slowly, feeling his peak drawing near. He slid back and forth from the cusp of her lips to the base of his shaft. Though he had planned to steadily build up the tempo, Vyla, it seemed, had other plans.

"Weak," she snarled hungrily.

Ronav jumped as something wrapped itself around his cock halfway through him drawing back from her lips. He tried to pull away but the tongues, or whatever appendages now grew within her pussy, drew him back in with surprising strength. Only when he began to buck against her with the same speed and strength as he had before their change in position did she release her grip.

Vyla's guidance did not end there. Like his previous partner, she seemed quite intent on being in charge to some degree. Her hands crept up to hold his where they lay for purchase on the shapely curves of her ass. She pulled him down, once more surprising Ronav with her strength. He struggled to maintain his thrusting and pleasing of her fluttering folds as Vyla drew his hands down and placed them upon her voluptuous breasts that held a surprising degree of poise despite hanging free.

As Ronav began the act of teasing and pawing at the Siren's nipples and considerably sized boobs, he briefly wondered how she had managed to move her hands in such a way without collapsing to the bed. Something to think about later. For now he only cared to give his full attention to the jiggling orbs that bounced so lively in his hands.

"Close," Vyla gasped, her voice thick with the ecstasy surging through her folds.

"Me... too," Ronav managed. He began to plough her with even greater abandon as his climax grew closer and closer, spurred on by Vyla's huffs and cries that accompanied his thrusts.

Pleasure perhaps becoming too much, Vyla lay down upon the bed but kept her lower half raised to receive Ronav. She writhed against the furs and pushed back against his hips now that her new position offered greater purchase. Ronav continued to dance his fingers and hands over her silky breastflesh and diamond-hard nipples that felt as though they had swollen in size since he had begun.

"Haa, cumming," Vyla cried out suddenly as her body began to spasm and ripple, whatever muscles she possessed losing control of her shape-shifting with the second orgasm that swept through her, stronger than the last.

The flutters, quivers and pulses that shot through the Siren's pussy succeeded in pushing Ronav over the edge. It felt as if a lightening bolt shot through his cock as he spurted rope after rope of his seed deep into Vyla's swollen womanhood. The intensity of it all saw him slip down upon her while he road out the orgasm, vision blurring with the intoxicating sensory overload.

Ronav continued to lazily thrust his cock into Vyla's pussy until her thrashing began to subside and she let out a long, satisfied moan. With his own climax waning, Ronav pulled out with a loud slurp, his cock covered in a mixture of hers and his juices, and lay to one side.

Vyla shifted so that she lay on her back, chest heaving. Ronav stared at her breasts as they rose and fell with her breathing until she looked at him with a predatorial grin, razor teeth born.

"You see? That wasn't so bad, was it?" she panted with a smile.

"No," Ronav agreed.

"But what a mess I've made."

Vyla looked down to where Ronav's cock was slowly deflating. She glanced back at him with a cheeky grin and began slithering down the bed. Ronav watched as she grabbed hold of his softening member and leaned towards it. Her tongue extended from her mouth and crept out, growing as it did until it reached almost half a foot in length. Ronav tilted his head back as his cock tingled while her tongue swept over it to lick the juices clean

"I do so love a snack after a good fucking," she remarked casually once her work had finished.

Sensing something in her voice, Ronav looked down his body and found her creeping back up the bed, mouth wide and eyes hungry. Worry shot through him and he tried to lift himself from under her but Vyla was too quick and she soon had his hands held to the bed and encased in her own which then rapidly solidified.

"Our fun is not yet over, Sye," she said huskily as she leaned in, mouth open and widening. She placed her mouth over his, even enveloping his nose, and simply held it there.

Ronav struggled and cried out but his words were muffled and he quickly found it impossible to breath through the Siren. His eyes stared into hers but found only empty blackness staring back. Slowly a dark haze began to creep over Ronav's vision as the lack of air began to get to him. A minute later and he slipped peacefully into unconsciousness.



Arms of the Ocean Ch. 03



Author's note: As always go ahead and leave comments with whatever feedback you wish, I love to hear it.

===

Ronav's body jolted the second his eyes slid open as he remembered where he was and what had been happening prior to his unconsciousness. He sat upright and soon realized that the fur blankets of his bed covered his half nakedness beneath. Then none of it had been a dream. Or had it? The cold wetness chilled Ronav's legs as it did every morning. Had the usual fantasies that lovingly haunted his sleeping hours mutated into some new form?

A quick scan of the single-roomed home revealed to Ronav that several of his possessions, an oil lantern, a mug and one of his fishing rods, had been knocked to the floor. The single chair that ordinarily made its home by his meager table also rested overturned. No, it couldn't have been a dream.

Ronav looked over his arms, chest, legs and anywhere else that his eyes could reach but he found no damage. Vyla must have been playing with him more when she snuffed his breathing and forced him into unconsciousness. Ronav rubbed his forehead and eyes, could she have been less rough? Perhaps it wasn't wise to complain. Considering how encounters with the Sirens normally went, he had gotten off rather well.

Pun intended. Ronav smiled to himself as the events of the morning replayed themselves behind his eyes. But where had the woman vanished to? She quite clearly no longer occupied the house. A pang of despair entered Ronav as he feared that this encounter might end the same way as the last. Shouldn't it be the man vanishing to the wind after a night sharing a bed? Or a morning, as the case may be.

Light streaming in from gaps in his window shutters, as well as a loud rumble from his stomach, told Ronav that lunch had passed some time ago. Regardless, he fixed himself a meal of bread smeared with a pulpy, orange, teep jam that had been carefully filtered of its mouth-numbing seeds. As he ate, he mulled on what to do next. With Vyla's departure, his odds of finding that first Siren had thinned substantially.

Why her? Ronav stopped to wonder. He swept back through his memories of the day he had been taken from the rocks. Her pale face with a light dusting of freckles on either cheek and the fanning cascade of orange hair. Her eyes too had amazed him. Not the dark, empty pools of blackness that he had thought such creatures would possess, hers had been a faint blue. Of course, he knew that she could have appeared however she wished. So too could Vyla, even fulfilling the role of his first Siren, as she had suggested, which raised the question, why pursue such an ethereal and dangerous predator?

Ronav searched his mind but could find no good answer. He simply felt drawn to her. So many months had gone by with the woman rarely far from his mind. It felt impossible and wrong somehow to abandon the trail so abruptly. If only Vyla were still here to help.

Having discarded his clothes and effectively eaten naked, Ronav next set about seeking out a new set of garments. He crossed the room to a tall and battered wardrobe that wobbled terribly if not for a large stone that he had placed beneath one of its legs. He took hold of the twin doors handles and pulled outwards. They didn't budge. Ronav frowned. The wardrobe may be of garbage quality but it had never stuck before. He tried again but his efforts were rewarded solely by a soft groan of the furniture's hinges. Out of ideas, Ronav resorted to twisting the handles to see if... he didn't quite know what. At once the action yielded a result as a half laugh, half cry of shock filled the air.

It didn't happen as steadily as in the past. Instead the transformation came like a crashing wave. A sudden flashing ripple and the wardrobe collapsed in on itself in some places and exploded outwards in others until, barely a second later, Ronav found himself holding the nipples of Vyla's exposed breasts between his thumbs and index fingers where he had once held the wardrobe's handles.

"You certainly waste no time with your foreplay," said Vyla with a cheeky smirk.

"Gah!" Ronav gasped and tried to pull his hands away but, to his shock, the Siren's breasts had somehow flowed over and entrapped him before solidifying and sealing themselves. She leaned in, tongue extending and snaking far from her mouth. Vyla then licked a long, wet path from Ronav's chest, across his face with a pause on his mouth before stopping at his forehead in a single slurp. Then she sucked her tongue back in and smacked her lips.

"I live for the taste of fear," she said, her eyes predatorial as they watched him with an emotion that looked as though it dipped deep into the realm of hunger.

Ronav pushed against her but her hands braced against his back. Lower down, Ronav could feel movement against his flaccid cock. His stomach lurched as several fingers, emerging between Vyla's legs, began toying with his member. They fluttered and teased, their touches gentle but insistent. Despite Ronav's best efforts to resist, his cock began to awaken and rise until it came to a point where her fingers were able to wrap around him and begin pumping up and down.

Ronav looked into Vyla's eyes as she beat him off but all he found were two cold, black pools staring back, totally void of emotion. Why does she do these things? he tried to wonder over the building sensations around his cock.

Up and down Vyla's pseudo hand went, occasionally pausing at one end to play with his balls or tease his tip. Ronav wanted to press against her but his hands remained sealed inside her breasts and any bucking of his hips only caused Vyla to stop until he ceased his movements. So Ronav stood still and let the Siren bring him slowly to release. Her fingers worked as magically and mysteriously as the rest of her had during their previous session. Somehow she had lubricated his cock despite not once having bent down to lick or spit on it. Amid the warming throbbing of his flesh, Ronav wondered if these fingers that now caressed him might be some extension of her womanly folds. If so, did she too derive pleasure and release from her actions?

Ronav couldn't consider such things much longer as his peak drew near. He huffed, heart racing and breathing coming in bursts. All the while Vyla's eyes never once left his or warmed from their icy glare. He could feel himself at the cusp of orgasm. The white-hot surge that preceded the fireworks behind his eyes.

"Bah, I am being foolish" Vyla said suddenly as her fingers retreated from his cock and back to wherever they had come from. "We have no time for such games."

The Siren stepped away, breasts releasing Ronav's hands with the softest of slurps as she left him standing naked and confused.

"Wait what are you doing?," Ronav asked. His cock leapt momentarily as she sat upon the bed, naked breasts bouncing gently, and crossed her legs.

"Waiting for you to finish. Then we can get to the matter at hand."

"No, why would you...?" Ronav trailed off as he looked down at his steely cock. He had been so close, maybe even a single pump from coming. His right hand twitched with the desire to finish what the Siren had started but he hated the thought of ending such a special hand job so unceremoniously. "Please come back," he begged.

"Oh? You wish for me to finish you off?" Vyla asked with a raise of an eyebrow.

"Yes," Ronav groaned.

"Then beg, Shasling. Beg for the touch of your mistress that will bring you the sweet release you so desire."

"Please," he begged, hands clasping together as the white heat around his cock slowly trickled away. "Don't leave me like this. Please come back."

"Come back and what, Shasling?" Vyla took a single step towards him. "Do you want me to reach down and wrap your throbbing dick in my warm, maddening embrace?"

"Yes," he groaned.

"And then do you want me to pump my hand along the length of your shaft, up and down, until at last you explode in a jet of your seed?"

"Yes," he said again. Her work was fading and he feared that she might take the chance to torment him again if this took any longer.

"Very well, Shasling. I shall grant you this boon." Vyla closed the remaining distance between them and reached down with her real hand this time. Her fingers wrapped around his still-rigid cock and closed tight but not before renewing the strange lubrication that she had produced before. Then began the delicious movement of her hand.

It came as a single, tight pump upon his cock. Her had moved so gradually yet so firm that one was all he needed. Like the striking of a match slowed a hundredfold, Ronav's burning resumed and grew until, at last, he came as Vyla's hand reached the base of his shaft. Immediately his cock began to spurt forth with a vigor that sought to make up for the delay. Long gushes of his cum shot forwards and must have splattered against Vyla but he didn't see where amid the heart-jolting adrenaline of an orgasm so long in the making. His legs quivered and threatened to fold beneath him but Vyla held him up as the waves rocked towards completion.

It took some time but at last Ronav's orgasm began to fade and his attention at last drew back to his surroundings.

"What was that about!?" Ronav cried.

"Ah, you are so easy to scare and manipulate, Shasling." Vyla's voice sounded far more musical and happy this afternoon as she walked, hips swaying enticingly, back to the bed where she sat down and flashed Ronav a cheeky smile. Her naked skin rippled, reformed and changed color until she appeared to be wearing a white blouse with a dark corset that hugged her tight and, as with the gown, pressed and lifted her breasts seductively. For her legs she wore a simple pair of black pants.

"You didn't answer my question," Ronav said firmly as he tried to keep his mind on topic and avoid falling for the Siren's charms once more.

"Didn't I? You don't think that I can toy with you purely for the enjoyment of doing so?" she teased, then crossed one leg over the other. "Besides, you did enjoy it, did you not?" Vyla nodded towards Ronav's crotch.

He looked down and immediately covered his softening member as though doing so would somehow prevent it from betraying him yet again. "What happened to my wardrobe? And where are my clothes?" he asked.

"Your clothes are here." Vyla rocked back on the bed and reached down behind it. As she came back up, she hurled a pile of shirts, pants and undergarments across the room where they landed at Ronav's feet. He knelt down and began sifting through them as Vyla continued. "Your 'wardrobe' I disposed of. Oh don't look at me like that, a dirt-filled corner would have made a better place to keep your things."

"But it was mine!" he cried, though he also had to admit that she may have been right about the corner. Still, bad enough that the Siren be here, now she had taken it upon herself to redecorate? Despite their earlier fun, Ronav was rapidly regretting his decision to rescue her.

"Now it is a pile of scrap wood. An improvement, if you ask me." Vyla scrutinized her fingernails, clearly disinterested with the conversation subject.

Ronav said nothing more until he had finished dressing. He chose a faint green tunic and leather trousers that were torn at both knees from fishing mishaps. Fully clad at last, Ronav approached his 'guest' with an expression that he hoped would be seen as stern. "It's time for some answers," he said bluntly.

"I could not agree more," Vyla replied with a razor-toothed smile. "For a start, where in this house is your meat store? I couldn't find it this morning after you slept and I had to resort to hunting on land outside the town. Or I could have taken a chunk out of your legs but I felt that may have been rude."

"No, I have the questions, you give me the answers."

Vyla looked him in the eyes, her expression going cold. "What did you say to me, Shasling?"

Her face sent a chill down Ronav's spine but he held his ground. "You'll answer my—"

"Will I?" Vyla hissed as she lunged forwards, her hands turning to knives and pressing up against Ronav's neck as they so frequently did. "Do you think yourself in charge, Sye? I think that a lesson in obedience may be in order for speaking against your betters."

Ronav gulped, afraid to move his head further, not even to speak, lest he cut himself on the vorpal edges of the Siren's knife-hands.

The creases of Vyla's forehead faded and a smile returned. "Ah, so easy to play with," she sighed as she sank back upon the bed. "But do not miss the lesson, Sye. I have been exceptionally patient with you out of consideration for your ignorance of the ocean's ways. You do not command me, remember this."

"In that case, can you please answer my questions?" Ronav asked as his muscles slowly unclenched.

"If you answer mine first, perhaps. Where is the meat?"

Ronav fought back the urge to mutter something under breath. "I'm a Taigin, we don't eat meat."

"Ah yes, I had forgotten. That will have to change if our living arrangement is to remain like this."

"What? Living arrangement?" Ronav blurted out.

"Aha! That is your question!" Vyla shouted triumphantly. "And yes, you wish for me to find you this other Siren still? It will be an ongoing task. Where else could I stay?"

"That's your question," said Ronav and he jabbed a finger at her to drive the point home, feeling quite pleased to have finally caught the woman up on something. "You're a shape shifter, I bet you could stay wherever you want. Now tell me why you really want to help me find the Siren... please," Ronav added as Vyla raised an eyebrow at him.

"Would you believe what I told you, Sye? More importantly, do you think it wise to believe me? Maybe my cause is as simple as toying with you for the fun of it or as complex as using you to spy on your fellow Shaslings. Either way, it doesn't matter."

"What is it really?" Ronav asked.

Vyla wagged a finger at him. "No no, it is my turn now. Since we are on the subject of causes, you will tell me why you wish to pursue your beloved Siren."

Ronav rubbed his forehead to his cheek and back again. He conceded to himself trying to learn the Siren's true motives would be near impossible when he had nothing with which to bargain. Perhaps Vyla spoke the truth and it really didn't matter. Still, after all the stories of the Siren's sadistic cruelty, predation and pseudo cannibalism, it felt strange to meet one who displayed anything other than those traits. Then again, they surely didn't act so monstrously all the time. How could their society function if that were the case, Ronav had to wonder. But such thoughts were too great for the time being so he returned his focus to his guest's question. "She's haunted my dreams for the past three months. I'm tired of sleeping in the company of a ghost."

"So now you crave the reality and you want me to bring it about?"

Ronav nodded. Said aloud, it all sounded like ridiculous fantasy.

"Then I shall help you, Sye, so long as you bend to my demands. Now first, you must tell me what your lost love looked like."

Ronav began describing the Siren and, somewhat uncannily, Vyla began recreating herself in the image he produced. The long, flowing, orange hair that came down past her waist, freckles and faint blue eyes were all taken care of rather quickly. Then came the more difficult features to recall. The exact shape of her face, sway of her body and tone of her legs to name a few. Ronav kept the exact details of the encounter to himself. They were private and unnecessary. His focus stayed purely on the Siren's appearance until, nearly a half hour later, he found himself staring at an exact duplicate.

Ronav felt his heart begin to quicken with longing as he stared at the Siren who had rescued him from the waves. So striking were the similarities that he had to remind himself quite strongly that Vyla had merely put on another skin.

"So..." Vyla began as she looked over her naked form. Unlike when she had disguised herself as a man, her voice had not changed. "I would say, judging by the faint tanning of the skin and the color of the hair, used to camouflage herself in the equally colorful environment, that we're looking for a Southsea Siren. That is unfortunate."

"Why?" Ronav asked. He shifted his legs to hide the bulge that had fast grown as a result of Vyla's exploration of her new body. Why had she insisted on spending so much time on the tiniest or seemingly insignificant details. Details like breast and hip size. Not that Ronav had had a problem with such things, it only seemed strange that she would be so interested. But each of his attempts to ask why had been shot down with a blunt 'because it matters'. "What's so special about a Southsea Siren?"

Vyla rolled her eyes as she answered. "Well, foolish Sye, we currently sit not a half mile from the north sea, yes? The south sea lies well over two hundred miles south of here. Now do you understand why this presents a problem?"

"But why would a Southsea Siren be all the way up here?" Ronav asked. Then he frowned as a more pressing question surfaced. "And couldn't she have been in disguise? Maybe she really is from around here."

"Our kind rarely stay outside our natural appearance when merely swimming through the ocean, there is no reason to disguise ourselves for a fish. Besides, no Sirens of the north sea would demean themselves so greatly as to appear as our boorish and tan-skinned sisters of the south. As for what one would be doing here, that is a good question. All the more reason to start the chase at once." With that, Vyla's body underwent a massive shudder as she suddenly returned to her natural form complete with the clothing she had selected earlier.

Ronav stared blankly for several seconds before he could find will to speak. "Why did you do that!?" he cried. "It took so long to get right and now its all gone. And why spend so much time on appearance if you were going to discard everything right away?"

Vyla shook her head and clasped a palm over her eyes. "I have it remembered, silly Shasling." Her body flashed to the disguise momentarily, its form as perfectly crafted as before, then back again. "And I will need this shape accurate as possible to find your precious woman. Even if she is in disguise, she will be attracted quickly at the sight of an exact duplicate of one of her forms entering the city. That is how we will draw her out. But first we must reach the south sea so we will need to hire one of those winged serpents that you Shaslings ride."

Ronav shook his head. "A Vouiareli for that sized journey costs more than I own."

"Then you are fortunate that I will be the one to pay." Vyla flashed her toothy smile as she held her right hand open by her stomach. Clothing and flesh parted momentarily to spit out a small, brown pouch made from a leather that Ronav couldn't identify. The contents of the pouch clinked together, though they didn't sound metallic.

"What's in there?" Ronav asked.

Without a word, Vyla tipped the pouch out into the palm of her hand. Several, tiny, iridescent orbs rolled from their leather trappings.

"Pearls!?" Ronav hissed, struggling desperately to keep his voice under control.

"Have you ever seen one before, Sye? Here, take a look."

Ronav ignored the ocean gem that lay in Vyla's extended hand. He could feel a sweat breaking out on his neck in the paranoid fear that, any second now, the town guard would come crashing through his door. "You can't pay for the journey in pearls!"

"Oh?" Vyla drew her hand back. She sounded genuinely surprised. "Do I not have enough?"

"Enough!? You could buy every merchant on main street with what you have there." Pearls. They were easily the rarest stone that the land-dwelling races knew about. Rarer even than diamonds by a wide margin. They belonged to the realm of the Siren's, or so the mentality went. Many had tried to retrieve the pearls from their ocean home but so few had succeeded. Braving the water's depth was no small task and, from what Ronav had heard, the Siren's were lethally driven to protect their treasures. Thus, the value of a pearl was staggering.




Arms of the Ocean Ch. 03



"So what is the problem, Sye?" Vyla asked as she slipped the little stones back into their home.

"The problem— if you go showing those around town, everyone will know about it. Then everyone will start wondering what a pair of nobodies are doing with a fortune in pearls. We'll have every guard in the north tailing after us and every merchant and their mercenaries."

For a while Vyla remained silent as she considered his words. Her tongue shifted thoughtfully about her mouth, occasionally bulging one cheek or the other. "Perhaps you have a point. I had not realized how greatly you Shaslings covet the ocean's wealth. There are great vaults of pearls in our cities that house thousands."

Ronav pushed back any and all longings of greed that tried to force themselves into his mind. No point throwing his life away on an impossible venture.

"So what do you suggest instead, Sye?"

"We find a caravan and buy a ride on that, something I can actually afford."

Vyla frowned. "It will take longer, but so be it." Then her features smoothed and shifted to that of a near childish glee. "It will give us plenty of time to get better acquainted, I should think."

Ronav could only shift uncomfortably beneath the wink that she flashed him.

===

"Ugh," Vyla huffed beside Ronav as her foot squelched into the muddy patch of road. "Now I see why my sisters loathe to come on land. This place is filthy."

Ronav quickly jerked his head around out of fear that someone may have overheard. Did she really need to say things that so clearly implied her being a Siren? Fortunately there were no citizens of Ripples on the Water in hearing range and the bustle of market square up ahead helped to drown out their voices. He turned his attention back to her before saying anything. "It's just mud. There has to be worse things than this in the ocean, ah?"

"Squid ink comes to mind, but the reward for braving it is a delicious squid." Vyla licked her lips as she shrugged and the blond hair of her disguise bobbed upon her shoulders. She had chosen to appear as a Neynas woman, the fair-skinned race of people who drew energy from the sun and worked it into magic. Of course, this being nothing more than a different skin, Vyla couldn't replicate that ability. "And besides, you are surrounded by ocean water with which to clean yourself."

He had to give her credit for that. Still, Ronav couldn't help but force back a smile at the thought of a Siren, supposed to be murderous and sadistic, worrying over a little mud.

"Something funny, Sye?"

Ronav trembled a little at her perception. "Uh... look, see if you can spy any caravans that look as if they'll be heading off today." As he swept his eyes over the wide, open expanse of the market square, Ronav could see at once that their prospects were slim. It being roughly the middle of the month, the furthest time from the monthly day of Ka, few traders or travelers were arriving in or leaving the town. Across the way from where they walked, he could see only two possibilities. One, looked to belong to a merchant who had just arrived and would no doubt be staying a while to offload. The other held more promise but, as Ronav drew closer with Vyla in tow, his hopes sank.

Several armed men stood around the once-promising caravan, more of a carriage by its decor, and there looked to be few workers moving cargo around.

"This one, Sye?" Vyla asked, clearly having not noticed the problem. She nudged him and flashed a smile, her teeth having changed to be less shark-like. "I only hope that we will have enough privacy once on board in case my appetite returns."

Ronav's heart skipped as he looked down into her wide, inviting eyes but he quickly flushed away any thoughts of such pleasures. "They're not going to let us on board this one. Not with what we can afford."

"Oh, what makes you think that, Sye?"

Ronav nodded to the men who milled around and scanned the crowd, occasionally snapping at any passersby who drew too close. Each of the guards wore a suit of leather and mail with a golden hand painted on the chest. "You see those crests on their armor? They're no ordinary mercenaries. Probably the personal guards of some noble."

"You think I cannot see that?" Vyla snapped.

"Either way, he's not going to share his transport with a couple of strangers off the street."

"She I think you'll find." Vyla pointed

Ronav followed her hand and at once saw the woman walking across from them. She stepped along a path of boards that had been lain out purely for her purpose. The woman wore a long, orange and gold dress that billowed out around her and had to be held up to avoid getting in the mud. She, like Vyla at the present, had the golden hair and fair skin of a Neynas. Her hair had been crafted into a tall, beehive-like structure upon her head and decorated with ribbons and colorful pins.

"I think I shall negotiate with her."

"Wait, don't—"

But before Ronav could stop her, Vyla strode through the mud and stagnant rainwater towards the woman's assembly. Several of the guards noticed her but hesitated in their efforts to stop her advance. Ronav could guess why. Vyla brimmed with confidence. Besides, the noblewoman had taken notice now. He watched as Vyla introduced herself and expected immediate rejection. But none came. Instead the two chatted together warmly until, at last, he was beckoned over by both.

Concern washed over Ronav as he approached. Vyla had to know this person somehow, it was the only explanation. And if that were the case, what were the odds that this was another Siren in disguise? One had proven trouble enough, two would be a nightmare.

Please, Ka, do not let that be the case, Ronav prayed.

The guards did not move to intercept Ronav as he passed them by. Coming closer, he soon heard the tail of the conversation that Vyla and the noblewoman were having.

"... far nicer to see in the spring when the flowers are in bloom," remarked the noblewoman and Ronav knew that her words could not be meant for Ripples on the Water. "But we should at least catch a glimpse as we pass through."

"Pass through where?" Ronav asked once he stood with them.

The noblewoman regarded him with a cool stare before returning her attention to Vyla who had her hands clasped beneath a face of forgiveness. "As I said, Lady Telra, he is disappointingly uncivilized. I would think it best to let him ride alongside the driver."

"Quite, have him fetch the last of my trunks, would you. Let's see if there's some muscle on him at the very least." With that, Lady Telra strode between them unperturbed as she made her way to the open doors of her carriage.

Rather than watching her go, Ronav's eyes shot to Vyla's and he immediately wore what he hoped would be received as a face of pained frustration.

"Well?" Vyla simply remarked. "The trunks will not carry themselves..." she nodded along the walk down which Lady Telra had come to a place where several, colorful chests were sitting outside the entrance to one of Ripples on the Water's pricier lodges.

"What have you gotten us into?" Ronav hissed as he grabbed hold of the Siren's arm.

Vyla snarled and pushed in her face to mere inches of his. "I have fetched us travel arrangements, Shasling, can you not see that? Now fetch her luggage as I explain or you will ruin our chances here."

Ronav met her glare for a moment before conceding to the command. He clenched his hands tight as he stomped along the temporary boardwalk and hefted the first of the Lady's trunks into his arms. Despite his naturally strong and enduring Taigin frame, a groan still escaped him beneath the weight.

"Now," Vyla began while she skipped along unburdened at his side. "I have convinced the lovely Lady Telra to allow us on board her transport as far as Shadetree Fold. To sweeten our arrangement, you will be acting as a general assistant of sorts for her during the journey in place of serving me. No, don't give me that look, that's just the story I told, keep up will you?" Vyla paused her explanation as they came close to the carriage again and allowed Ronav time to load his burden onto the back. Once they were at a safe distance, she continued. "So for the duration of our travels, you will wait on her, hand and foot. I will keep by her side to maintain our charade through the myriad of blunders that you will no doubt manage, understood?"

"No," Ronav grunted as he hefted another trunk. "There's more to it than that. She's another Siren, isn't she?"

"Pah, don't be foolish, Sye. I simply offered her some entertainment for the journey." Vyla winked at him and flashed her cheeky smile.

Ronav narrowed his eyes. "Entertainment...? You don't mean?"

"Precisely, Sye."

"She and I are going to...?"

The sound of Vyla slapping herself in the face cut him off. "No, she and I, most likely. Yes, it would seem that our Lady Telra is more fond of the company of woman."

"But... but how could you know that?" Ronav hissed as they again drew close to the ears of the Lady's guards. "And how did you even convince her?"

"I did neither, Sye. I suspected her leaning when I came close enough to see the flash of interest that hid the lust in her eyes. You showed it too at first. Then I played to her a myriad of possibility without saying anything concrete. She is intrigued now but still swept in my mystery. After all, who could resist a body like this?" Vyla stepped out in front of Ronav and posed momentarily, her playful side showing once again.

So that was the story, Ronav mused as he leaned over the final trunk. His Siren accomplice had again resorted to seduction. He had to admit, Vyla was startlingly perceptive and skilled at the manipulative arts. But Ronav supposed that that made sense given their nature. One would have to be a master of such skills to survive on land where you would be killed simply for existing.

"So you'll... keep her busy, I guess, until we arrive?" he asked.

"Oh Sye," Vyla whispered and she stroked a finger up the nape of Ronav's neck and across the underside of his chin where it scratched against his stubble. "I'll keep her more than busy. And when we arrive in Shadetree Fold, I'm sure that she will leap to aid us on the next leg of our journey. If she can even stand once I'm finished."

Ronav gulped. As much as he tried to resist the Siren's charms, he longed desperately for a glimpse of what would take place inside the carriage. What wonders would Lady Telra be looking forward to? Despite his best efforts, Ronav couldn't help but think of the two woman lying on the floor, their bodies entwined and pressed together as they writhed and ground against one another. Without changing shape, what would Vyla have planned? How long would she even wait before driving her long, prehensile tongue into the depths of Lady Telra? Ronav closed his mind to such thoughts as he felt his cock begin to stir.

"Is your porter done yet? We've a schedule to keep," the Lady called out one of the carriage's windows. She had the typical voice of a member of the upper class. Firm and commanding when it needed to be yet soft and clear otherwise with a tone that almost sounded as uncomfortable as their dress.

"At once my Lady," Vyla replied. She turned back to Ronav and nodded him towards the front of the carriage where an empty seat waited beside the driver who sat, reigns and whip in hand, before a line of horses.

Ronav clambered into position by the man who offered a grunted hello. He looked over the sides, now several feet above the Lady's footmen, and wondered how they would be traveling. Then Ronav spied another group of horses waiting alongside the inn and he had his answer.

Minutes later one of the footmen, now each of them mounted, shouted a command and the driver cracked his reigns and horses into action. So began the journey, Ronav's mind turning at once to the interior of the carriage where, no doubt, he would have much rather been.

===

Vyla cast her eyes over the plush red cushions and padded walls of the carriage. No such vehicles existed among Siren society for they had no need. If you wanted to travel somewhere, you simply swam. There were few creatures who could do so faster. Even the elites of the Sirens travelled under their own strength lest they appear feeble. So it was that Vyla didn't quite know what to think of the soft, velvety seats, curtained windows and the cupboard disguised in one wall from which the scent of food escaped.

"Such a rich way to travel," Vyla remarked as much to herself as to the Lady who presently sat with her back to the road ahead.

"I prefer to travel undisturbed and unmarred by the road." Lady Telra leaned over in her seat towards the cupboard and withdrew a bottle, filled with a deep, orange liquid, and two glasses from within. "Has fortune chanced you with a taste of Ka's Tears?" she asked as she carefully poured a tiny serving of the liquid into each glass.

"Not yet, though I am eager to partake." Vyla took the glass as it was offered and held it to her nose. The scent of the liquor singed her nostrils and she fought the urge to splutter. In the forefront of her mind sat the distinct awareness that she ventured onwards into territories unknown and her words and actions would have to be made cautiously to avoid detection.

I am a Neynas, Vyla told herself in an attempt to lose herself in the role. The day-eye of Ka gives me strength, though, unlike my fellows, my magic has never surfaced. I worship Ka the Eternal Empress and all her radiant glory.

"Think of it as a more potent brewing of Ember," said the Lady, piercing through Vyla's thoughts. Lady Telra lifted the glass to her lips and tipped the drink back in a single gulp. Her face contorted slightly as she swallowed, but only for a moment. Soon her eyes were back on Vyla who was acutely aware of where they fell.

Following the Lady's example, Vyla swished down her drink in equal haste. She regretted her action at once as the acrid, scalding taste of Ka's Tears flowed down her throat. Her mouth burned with a deep heat and only the slightest undercurrent of sweetness. At once Vyla sealed the bottom of her throat and formed a bubble of bone to trap the liquid where it could do no further harm. She would retch it out again later.

Yet her face remained serene despite these troubles. "You didn't joke about it being potent," Vyla lounged back and jumped slightly as the carriage lurched forwards. With practiced manipulation of her body, she loosened the straps of the corset she 'wore', but only slightly. "It is a long way to Shadetree Fold, is it not? I wonder how we might pass the time."

Lady Telra's eyes were lost and clouded for barely a second as she bit her lip at the sight before her. "I was hoping you might have some idea."

Vyla smiled to herself at the fires of lust plain one the Lady's face. Enough pretenses, she decided. But the question of how to proceed remained. How to strip down, when that time came, without revealing her true nature. More importantly, what sort of excitement would the Lady like? Vyla thought back to her encounters with both Sye and Sirens in the ocean, mostly the latter, and wondered if such knowledge might be useful here. There was one trick in particular that she wanted to try. One that was usually reserved for two females together. But she imagined that the Lady would not be ready for it. Not yet, at least.

Instead Vyla rolled off her seat and prowled towards Telra. "I do have some thoughts on the matter, if you think you can keep up." Without waiting for a reply, Vyla sank down upon the Lady's lap, wrapped her hands around her head and drew her in to press their lips together. At first Lady Telra met Vyla's forwardness with a flash of shock but soon, as Vyla had known she would, she fell into line and allowed Vyla to invade her mouth.

Lady Telra let out a gentle sigh at the skill to which her partner worked. Meanwhile, capitalizing on the distraction, Vyla began the delicate act of folding her fleshy clothing back into her body unnoticed. She moved her arms, pretending to strip in earnest and occasionally undressing Telra too, as fabric liquefied, shifted and melded away. Once bare, Vyla turned her attention to her modest bust and decided that a bit more was in order. Something to keep the Lady distracted. Vyla let her breasts grow until they had each swollen to be slightly larger than a mango.

With all present shape shifting out of the way, Vyla pulled back from the Lady and began her descent towards the meeting of Telra's thighs. Vyla ripped back the the layers of dress and skirt that hid her prize and wryly noted the dark patch of wetness that had developed on the undergarments. Vyla pulled back the final layer and was greeted by the tender, pink folds of Lady Telra's pussy.

The carpet matches the drapes, Vyla noted as she stared at the blond fuzz that Telra's pussy wore. Then she dipped down, tongue snaking out, and began to spiral around the Lady's exposed skin. Not once in her foreplay did Vyla actually come into contact with the sopping folds of Telra's womanhood. Every now and then she drew near only to slide her tongue away at the last second. Each time such a maneuver was made, the Lady would gasp and huff.

"No," she pleaded. "I... ha. Why are you teasing me?"

"We have a long journey ahead, my Lady," Vyla replied amid her licking. "You don't want to race to the finish so quickly, do you?"

"But, oh, mmm... Your tongue, so long."

Vyla smiled as she briefly caressed the nub of the Lady's clit, earning a cry of shock and satisfaction as a response. Telra's hands embraced the back of Vyla's head and pulled her in closer. The second this happened, Vyla stopped and looked up at the Lady.

"You're being too eager, madam." With strength aided by a surge of muscle within her arms, Vyla lifted the woman off her sofa and gently lowered her to the floor so that she lay on her back. "I am the one in control here," Vyla advised, her eyes stern as they looked into those of her partner who could only nod in reply.

Unsatisfied, Vyla reached forwards and took each of the Lady's hands in her own. Then she entwined her legs around the Lady's in such a way that she would be totally unable to move. Eyes still locked to hers, Vyla lowered her head towards Telra's breasts and bit the top of the dress that still held them in place. In her mouth she delicately undid the lace and ties that held the garment together until it sprang open elastically and allowed Telra's breasts to bounce free.

With her partner still bound in her grip, Vyla began slathering her tongue around Telra's voluptuous titflesh. She licked, prodded, lapped and teased the pink skin of the Lady's areoles before leaning closer still to draw a nipple into her mouth. There, tiny pink nub fastened delicately between her disguise-blunted teeth, Vyla sucked and nibbled softly as she could to the ecstatic cries of the Neynas woman.

"How? S—so amazing," Telra managed amid her moans.

Vyla reared up and pressed her pussy against that of Telra's. "I take it you've never done this properly before?"

"N—not like this." The Lady's hips and body moved against Vyla as she ground her womanhood with her partner's momentarily before falling back down and resuming her breast servicing.

"Well," Vyla purred. "I shall be sure to make up for any prior misadventures," she said as she rolled her tongue around Telra's right nipple. "By the end of our journey, you'll be begging me to come back into your arms. Your body will ache for mine and only when I allow it will you have that which you desire."

"Yes... yes!" Telra strained against her mistress' hands, her hips jumping from the floor in an effort to satisfy the boiling desire that Vyla had invoked between her legs.




Arms of the Ocean Ch. 03



"Perhaps you have suffered enough, my Lady." Vyla released Telra's hands and slithered down her body until again she found herself positioned by the Neynas' dripping folds and girl-cum-splashed thighs. Vyla opened her mouth wide and plunged her tongue deep into the Lady's pussy, intruding so suddenly that her efforts were met with a cry of shock and delight.

As soon as Vyla had entered, Telra's folds began to convulse and her hips jumped and spasmed as an orgasm swept the Lady up in a surging glow of heat and ecstasy. Vyla had to clasp a hand over Telra's mouth to keep her from crying out too loudly. All the while she kept her tongue gyrating and beckoning around in the woman's chasm. Vyla even extended her tongue an inch or two so that it could almost reach the end of Telra's pussy.

At last the Lady began to cease her quivering and panting as the orgasm waned and she regained control of her senses. "Hah, that... ahh," she moaned, her stomach and breasts heaving with exertion. "Let me now..." Body still a little shaky, Telra strained against her bindings.

Vyla let the woman escape at last as she wondered where things would go. She soon found herself pressed beneath the Neynas' entire body and greeting her pussy from another angle as Telra lay atop her. Once they were both in position, Vyla felt a tongue upon her own folds. "What is this?" she asked as she resumed licking and driving into the Lady's depths.

"Some call it, mmm... Sixty nine."

"I see..." No such position existed among the Sirens. If ever both participants wanted a mouth to their pussy and a pussy to their mouth they had only to merge the two openings into one. So the Shaslings had found a method to compensate for an inability to change shape. Vyla had to admit, she was enjoying the result. Telra, though noticeably novice compared to some of the Siren PleasureSisters, seemed intent on taking great care to reward her lover for earlier.

The pair pressed against one another, writhing and grinding even as they licked, nibbled and sucked. Despite herself, Vyla eventually felt the burning sensations in her pussy creep towards a climax. Although she would have happily done otherwise, Vyla shifted most of the nerves out of the way of Telra's tongue in order to stave off orgasm for a while longer. She needed to focus here, not indulge herself. Besides, she could not let herself come at the mouth of such an inexperienced partner.

The seconds stretched by to the music of Telra's building cries. Her second orgasm crashed upon her as Vyla drew her tongue out and gingerly lashed away at the Lady's clit. Telra's legs shook and her own pleasuring of her partner ceased as the throes of ecstasy swept her away in a heart-pounding storm of delight.

Vyla pressed her fingers into the womans slit to keep up the work that her tongue had been performing. Meanwhile, as Telra continued to gasp and shudder, Vyla rolled her over and onto the floor, then sat atop so that their folds met and their legs crossed behind one another's backs. Vyla paused for a moment as she struggled to recall the name for this position in the common tongue. Something like 'Stance of the twin-blade knives'? That sounded about right

Telra caught on immediately after her senses had been regained and wasted no time in beginning to rub her pussy against Vyla's. As she did so, the Lady leaned forwards, bending over and proving herself to be quite flexible, to clasp her mouth over Vyla's left nipple.

"Ah, good girl," Vyla purred as she stroked Telra's hair and took in the thrill of invoking such great desire in her partner. "Don't hold back, my Lady, play with them all you wish."

Despite the moaning she made as Vyla ground her hips against her, Telra took up the offer and began pawing and playing with the other breast on offer. The hunger in the woman's eyes looked as if she were compensating for years of underindulgence by capitalizing on the great bounty on offer. Telra's lust was almost palpable and Vyla knew that she had awoken something exciting in the woman.

"Ah, so close," Vyla gasped and she flooded her pussy and breasts with nerves to make the statement true. She knew that such words would only drive Telra into a greater frenzy at the thought of making her skilled lover come.

The plan worked and Telra frantically pressed her hips to Vyla's. At the same time she pinched one nipple between her fingers and drove her tongue into the other. With her flesh in those places so much more sensitive, Vyla came immediately and struggled to stifle the cry that ensued. She fought back the rippling of her skin, managing to confine it internally, and instead spasmed as a Shasling would.

Once the searing glow of her orgasm had died down enough to move, Vyla disentangled herself from her partner and thrust several fingers into Telra's womanhood. The Lady gasped and bucked against the intruding digits. Vyla grinned with the plan she now had. Their coupling had been enjoyable but the time had come for it to draw to a close. Yet she desired rest and that meant first putting Telra to sleep, though perhaps in a kinder way than she had done to Ronav.

Knowing that the Lady wouldn't remember clearly enough when she woke, Vyla changed her fingers in such a way that they moved more like the tentacles of an octopus than appendages with bone. She twisted and gyrated in and around Telra's gushing folds, caressing the walls and even teasing and tantalizing the lips.

"Ha, wha— how are you... oh, by Ka!" Telra cried. "Do not— do not stop."

Vyla had no intention of doing so. She fingered, ploughed and drilled her lover's chasm, briefly pausing to clasp a hand over Telra's mouth, until a long, muffled cry heralded the most powerful orgasm that the woman had ever experienced. Her fingers curled, arms and legs flailed and Vyla had to dive in and hold Telra down to keep her from gaining any bruises in the experience.

As the cataclysmic climax drew on through Telra's body, her eyes began to roll back and her consciousness slowly faded. Seconds later she passed out completely beneath the overwhelming sensations that wracked her brain.

Once Vyla felt certain that Telra was well and truly under, she slipped free of her disguise and slowly liquefied until she lay in a puddle of sorts at her partner's side. She planned to rest like this for a while, all shape shifting muscles totally relaxed. Who knew what fun the hours ahead might bring. Vyla wanted to be fresh and ready for it.

===

The treetops of the forest that lined the road down which Ronav found himself carried allowed thin glints of sunlight to filter through and give the land a warm, spring tint. He watched the scenery as it trickled by. Trees, rock faces and boulders, more trees and their fallen comrades. Mostly his mind drifted to whatever might be happening inside the carriage.Could he chance a peek? Probably not. The driver, though not particularly perceptive, as Ronav had decided, would notice such an obvious attempt easily. Besides, there were the footmen behind and in front of the carriage who looked out as well. Too bad.

A muffled gasp touched the cusp of Ronav's hearing and he perked up. "What was that?" he asked to nobody in particular.

"Mrnh," the driver grunted and he gave a crack of the reigns as if to better pronounce his reply.

Ronav looked at the man a moment. "Yeah... probably," he muttered and went back to imagining.



Arms of the Ocean Ch. 04



Nearly two hours passed before the peaceful form of Lady Telra began to stir. Vyla quickly changed back into her Neynas form and watched as the rise and fall of the Lady's chest increased in pace.

Telra lay where Vyla had left her, sprawled upon the floor with one hand cupped over her womanhood and the other flung out to the side. Totally nude and plastered with dried sweat and other juices that their session had produced, she looked rather ragged yet, Vyla noted, no less enticing. Would she be capable of more soon? Vyla hoped so.

Telra let out a soft whimper as she regained her faculties and her head gently twisted to re-familiarize herself with the setting. Telra's eyes quickly found Vyla's and she smiled affectionately. "I feared I'd been dreaming," she mumbled, still addled by the passion-induced sleep.

"Do all your dreams end with you waking like this?" Vyla asked with a wave of her hand towards the woman's body.

Telra leaned up partway and looked herself over. "Lovely. And all my clothes are on the back of the carriage, save for that sweaty dress you tore off me," she sighed and sat up.

"Fear not, I shall fetch your things when the time comes." Vyla moved to kneel down in front of Telra where she leaned in close. "But I think that time may be some ways off yet," she purred and drew in for a kiss.

"Oh Vyla—"

"You will call me mistress in private."

"Mistress," Telra managed in the spaces that Vyla allowed between their meeting of mouths. "Don't you ever, mmm... quit?"

"Do you want me to?" Vyla asked and she pulled away feigning hurt.

"No."

"Good." But rather than leaning in again, Vyla stood up and turned her back as an idea formed. "I have a surprise for you." She moved to the flung-aside dress that the Lady had been wearing earlier and made a show of rummaging through it. Out of the Lady's sight, Vyla shifted some of her mass to her right hand where she changed shape so that it appeared as though she grasped a large, wooden dildo, far comfier than the real thing, with two straps coming off the hilt that would come into play later. "I fetched this while you slept," Vyla explained as she turned around to show off the large member.

Telra's eyes widened at the sight. "You're not going to...?" she trailed off.

"Say it," Vyla commanded. She sat opposite Telra once more.

"That's going in my... vagina?"

"Would you like it to?"

Clear uncertainty raged in Telra's eyes. She bit her lip and Vyla could see the woman wondering if she could truly manage such a large object.

"Don't fret, my student of the flesh. Sometimes a little pain precludes a world of pleasure." Without waiting for a response, Vyla gently pushed her partner towards the floor until again she lay upon her back. But Vyla didn't go straight to using the dildo. Instead she fastened her mouth around Telra's right nipple while tickling her fingers over the lips of Telra's pussy that had been so well used these past hours.

"Ahh," the Lady sighed as she began to squirm. "How do you know, ooh, what to do so well?"

"Years of practice," Vyla replied around the turgid nipple that her tongue lapped at energetically. As if to demonstrate, she chose that moment to plunge her dancing fingers into her partner's folds where they immediately began to caress and undulate against the walls of Telra's pussy.

"But everything you, mmm, do... it's as if you know, ah, what I want."

Vyla smiled to herself and teased her fingers along the roof of Telra's pussy before answering. "As I said, my student, years of practice." Then she pulled her fingers out entirely, lifted her head from Telra's chest and positioned the shape shifted dildo at the woman's entrance. "Ready?" she asked.

Telra looked down, biting her lip again with a silent deliberation. At last she nodded apprehensively. "Okay, be— haaah," she gasped as the dildo steadily dug its way into her folds.

Vyla drove the appendage in with as much enthusiasm as her Sye plaything had had when he had once been on her end. Through the nerves she had moved into the false toy, Vyla could feel the walls of Telra's pussy sliding past her tip and length. After several seconds the large member reached the absolute depth of the tunnel. Vyla then paused and waited for the woman to give some indication of what she wanted next.

For several moments, Telra simply lay back as her hips moved a little to get a feel for the rather large guest. The enjoyment of being so thoroughly stretched stood plain as day on the woman's face. Then Telra started lifting her hips up and down and Vyla took this as the cue to start. She began thrusting her cock-shaped hand into Telra's well-slicked pussy, feeling every inch of flesh within.

Telra moaned ecstatically as a result of the thorough fucking that she was undergoing. Her body shook, large breasts bouncing, with every thrust that Vyla made. The dildo plunged to the very limits of Telra's pussy, its ridges vibrating the walls slick with girl cum before drawing back to the lips and diving in again.

"Ohh... where did you f—f— mmh," Telra grunted as her body began to tremble in orgasm.

"That is a secret, my student," Vyla replied amid her merciless hammering of the woman's folds. She smiled at the lust and ecstasy that her work had induced in the Neynas woman who could only moan and cry her words at this stage as she writhed and quivered upon the carriage floor.

Once Telra began to cease her spasming with the waning of her orgasm, Vyla pulled her cock-hand out and bent down to slather her tongue across the inside of Telra's thighs.

Telra whimpered as the cock left her but held her lover's head close. "Don't stop yet, mistress. Put it back inside," she pleaded.

"Gladly," Vyla purred. But instead of simply driving the dildo back in, Vyla made a show of strapping it around her waist with the fastenings she had grown from the dildo's end. Once the cock had been secured, Vyla melded it back with her body in such a way that it would provide far better purchase while remaining undetectable in its deception.

And something for myself, Vyla thought while extending the appendage into her own vagina too. Not that she truly needed to go to such great lengths to get herself off. Sometimes it was more enjoyable to walk the path less traveled. Or the tunnel less explored, as the case may warrant.

With the shape changing completed, and Telra none the wiser, Vyla positioned herself at her lover's entrance. "Are you ready, student? I will not be as gentle this time."

"Hurry," she gasped. "Ready, so ready."

"Say it properly first." Vyla pushed her hips forwards until the tip of her cock rested on Telra's nethers. The heat emanating from within felt incredible on the end of her faux penis and Vyla had to bite back the urge to simply dive in rather than tormenting the delicious creature beneath her.

"P—please, I can't take it. Just fuck me with your massive cock."

Vyla smiled and, in a single thrust, ploughed herself as deep as Telra's pussy would allow. "That is what I like to hear."

Telra groaned as she was filled so supremely with the huge member. Vyla, having received an accurate idea of the nature of the woman's pussy, had managed to craft her cock to suite its purpose perfectly. She slid in and out, her rigid rod rubbing against every inch of the Lady's folds. Vyla had to admit, she did enjoy this sort of thing. No other time did she feel stronger or more in command than when she had another woman writhing beneath the steely cock that she chose to form every now and then.

Vyla allowed her nerves to collect in her penis so that she too could enjoy the thrusting rut, though she made sure to hide that fact. Telra would find it somewhat strange to discover that the woman fucking her could somehow feel what was happening. So, cock pressed into Telra's pussy and extended into her own, it almost felt to Vyla that she was thrusting into herself. Each forward motion brought a myriad of sensations to her dick and her vagina. The flooded, hugging wetness of Telra that clasped firmly upon that which gave her so much pleasure. Then there was the backlash on every thrust as Vyla's own folds received a helping of her physical lust.

As Vyla built towards an orgasm, she began to indulge herself even further. She formed ridges and bumps along the half of the former dildo that penetrated her so that her lips quivered and stretched every time she forced herself into the luscious Neynas that lay beneath her.

Telra had begun to gasp and huff on every thrust minutes ago but now, as Vyla fucked the woman with greater abandon, Telra began to buck on her own as her fingers and hands curled in orgasm. The Lady unleashed a long, passionate moan that wobbled and stammered in line with the Vyla-induced rocking of her body.

Telra's breasts bounced in time with their bodies and Vyla's eyes finally caught this fact. She shifted her cock in such a way that she would be able to thrust just as easily while she fell upon the Neynas and fastened her mouth around a nipple. Telra curled up partway to hug Vyla's head in close, no doubt too deep in the passion and pleasure that flooded her senses to wonder how Vyla could possibly remain so deliciously forceful in this new position.

For several minutes more they fucked in each others arms as Vyla rolled her tongue around the swollen nipple in her mouth. Soon the sensations of her shape shifted cock became too great and her vigorous penetration turned to clumsy bucks and hip-jumping brought about by the searing cascade of her climax. Vyla rolled back, largely aided by the Lady who had guided her to the floor, and could only hum her satisfaction and catch her breath as Telra straddled her hips.

In position, Lady Telra began to bounce atop Vyla's enormous cock like an animal in heat. She clasped her breasts and pinched her nipples, eyes clamped shut and mouth formed in an O of satisfaction.

As Vyla's senses began to return, she realized what a mistake she had made. Would Telra have noticed her orgasm and find it strange? She should have been more careful. But the woman's pussy simply felt too amazing around her oversensitive cock. No longer could Vyla find the will to shift the nerves away. Instead she reached for Telra's silky hips and grabbed hold for added purchase.

At this angle, the pent-up juices from Telra's chasm gushed forth to mingle with Vyla's own and soak both their thighs with liquid lust. Eventually Vyla couldn't help but pull her lover down upon her body and lock her hands around Telra's back. Their breasts squeezed and bounced together as both refused to let go or cease their celebration of sex.

Time pulsed by, their vigor speeding and cries of passion gaining strength. Vyla could feel how close she was once more and knew that the same held true for her partner.

"Lose... yourself to it," Vyla commanded to the chorus of her bouncing hips.

"Going to... cum, going... to cum," Telra gasped, her voice bobbing with her body. "Going... to— Oh, oh Ka, mmm!"

The quivering of her lover's body sent Vyla over the edge and she let out a long, deep moan while continuing to drive her cock deep into Telra's pussy. She maintained her pace as long as she could but soon the orgasm became too much and she could only thrust one final time before simply holding herself against the soft, warm body that lay atop her. For a moment, buried beneath the warm, glowing haze of the climax, Vyla wondered what it would be like to have a real cock and to shoot her seed into the her partner. Perhaps some method of shape shifting that she had yet to experiment with would allow it. For now she let herself be lost in the delicious scent and sensation that this Neynas woman granted while laying atop her.

"Amazing," Telra breathed by Vyla's ear. Then the Lady lifted her head slightly and brushed a lazy kiss across her lover's lips before they both sank into sleep.

===

Vyla couldn't tell how much time had passed when she had awoke, nor entirely where she lay. All she could feel and cared to feel was the soft, warm cloud and the silky smooth mass that rested atop her. What was this thing? She could feel it stirring but the haze of sleep and the blissful relaxation hung too heavily for her to discern anything. It didn't matter, most likely, so Vyla decided to remain still and allow sleep to drift back up and claim her.

Fate, unfortunately, had another plan. A sudden, panicked gasp followed by a cry of fright rallied Vyla's senses. She opened her eyes and, through the thin veil of her relaxed body, immediately realized what was happening. She had fallen asleep with Lady Telra lying atop her.

Stupid, Vyla snarled to herself, her disgust that she would do such a thing only slightly less than her disgust at someone having witnessed her sleeping, and a Shasling, no less. Despite all that they had just shared, Vyla choked back the urge to reach up and rake claws through the Neynas woman's flesh.

"Wha— by Ka! What is this!?" Telra cried as she struggled to free herself from the fleshy pool of liquid in which she lay.

Biting back a bile-filled fury, Vyla tried to change shape in order to more quickly slither away but one of Telra's arms collided with her heart and she recoiled in pain as her liquid body spasmed. With all her might, Vyla spat the Lady off of her and darted to one side where she immediately coalesced into her Siren form.

Telra shrieked and raised her hands defensively, the little, glassy suncrests in her palm pointed towards her attacker, already glowing and ready to loose magic. "Stay back!" she warned as she struggled to her feet. "Guards, I need aid!"

"No!" Vyla cried. With the lightening quickness of a practiced killer, Vyla darted towards Telra and bound her hands behind her back. Vyla then pressed her mouth to the Lady's so that she could scream no more. "Please do not be afraid," Vyla pleaded, her own mouth reforming on her neck. She said the words as much to calm herself and keep instinct from compelling her to bite.

Already Vyla could feel her razor-edged teeth changing into readiness. Were this anyone else, perhaps even her Shasling friend, she would make the lethal move. But the guards outside wouldn't hesitate to kill her the second they learned the story. Yes she could end the lives of several, perhaps even most, but their numbers were too great and they had the advantage of land.

Despite the urge to do otherwise, Vyla conceded then that violence, intimidation or seduction would no longer work, the three most powerful methods of coercion in the Siren arsenal. Vyla's shark-like teeth blunted themselves and she spoke. "I am a Siren, yes, but I mean you no harm," she said in an effort to appeal to an emotion other than fear or lust.

Telra's eyes were wide and her breathing came quick and frantic. She cried with a scream muffled against her fleshy gag.

"I shall call off your guards but then you must show them that everything is okay, understood? I do not want—"

"My Lady!? Are you alright?" shouted a man from outside the carriage.

Vyla cleared her throat as it changed shape, then spoke to the man in Telra's voice. "False alarm, thought I saw a mouse."

"Shall I check the carriage for you?"

Had the situation been more relaxed, Vyla likely would have smiled and wondered what the captain of Telra's guards really wanted to check for. "That won't be necessary. We were jumping at shadows, nothing more."

"As you wish, my Lady." Boots crunched on the dirt road and, seconds later, the carriage lurched into motion again.

Vyla shifted her attention back to Telra who looked no less afraid. "Think of what we just shared, dearest. We could have more if you cooperate. My servant and I are traveling peacefully through the land, that is all. Keep things that way and I will be extremely grateful." And to give the Lady a taste of exactly how grateful, Vyla moved her mouth back into its proper place and parted her lips so that they pressed against the woman's. Like their first contact, Telra felt apprehensive. That soon melted away and she pushed back longingly.

"Thank you, dearest," said Vyla as she pulled away to the noticeable disappointment of Telra. "But before we may continue, there is the matter of your guards. And I shall have to inform my servant of the slight change in plans."

"You won't leave?"

"Some time in the future I must, but not while I've something so delicious to hold me— No, not that kind of delicious!" Vyla blurted as she scolded herself for such a poor choice of words.

Telra's features unfolded partways having revealed just how on edge she still was. "I do like this body better." She waved her hand and it trembled only slightly.

"Yes," Vyla purred and she took a step back. As much as she tended to loathe Shaslings, at least the women of land had a degree of sense about them. Besides, Telra could still prove useful. Not to mention, disposing of a corpse here and now would be difficult.

Vyla half twirled, midnight-black hair fanning out, then looked teasingly over her shoulder at the Neynas. "This body is a tad more luscious, is it not?" She faced Telra again then rubbed her hands down her naked curves, over her breasts and hips. "This one I made for another, but I'm sure you will have the chance to enjoy it all the same."

Telra stepped forwards but was halted at once by a finger pressed delicately to her chest and falling partway into the valley of her cleavage. Vyla shook her head and feigned sadness yet, in truth, she reveled in the desire that she invoked in this woman. "Not yet, my dear. We each have our allies to deal with first. Wait here and I shall fetch you a fresh set of clothes."

Vyla's body rippled momentarily and her corset, blouse and pants reformed along with her Neynas disguise. Then she went outside to inform her Sye of the new arrangement. The self-loathing and anguish she had stifled almost surfaced but, with grit, she choked it back.

===

The scream from earlier had Ronav worried and, though he hadn't moved from his place by the driver's side, his ears were perked up and tuned to the carriage. Something had happened in there and he held severe doubts that it involved either sex or a mouse. At least he would find out the truth soon enough. The deep orange of evening was building over the forest and, from what he could make out of the driver's words, they would be stopping to make camp in a clear patch of roadside soon. But what truth came out then Ronav wasn't sure would be entirely beneficial.

A slam from the carriage caught Ronav's attention and he twisted around to see who had emerged. In the dimming light he immediately spotted Vyla moving lithely towards him. "What is it?" he asked in a whisper once she reached him. Then he checked to see if the driver was paying them any mind but his eyes were fixed to the road.

"There's been a complication," the Siren replied cryptically from her perch atop the carriage and through gritted teeth.

"No, what happened?"

"Words for later, servant. I shall explain all when we camp for the night."

Her voice sounded strained and Ronav wanted to ask why but she turned around and prowled to the carriage's rear where most of the luggage had been packed.

Ronav yearned to chase after her but even if he did he knew that she couldn't reveal anything too great at the moment. The guards that rode with them would surely hear and Ronav suspected that such would be disastrous. Instead he could merely watch as Vyla withdrew several garments from one of Telra's trunks before slipping back inside the carriage unchallenged. The Lady's entourage must be aware of the status that Vyla had managed to acquire.

As Ronav turned his eyes back to the road, a new vision appeared in his thoughts. One of Vyla and the Lady together, having just engaged in such powerful sex that the current set of clothes had been destroyed. His cock stirred slightly at those visions and he found himself wanting their campsite to come into view as soon as possible.




Arms of the Ocean Ch. 04



Fortunately Ronav didn't have to wait much longer. The entourage rounded a bend in the road some thirty minutes later before veering off and into a grassy clearing that they would use for the night.

For some minutes Ronav milled around as the guards began setting up their tents and the driver tended to his horses. His eyes kept drifting back to the carriage's doors in the hopes that Vyla would soon emerge and brief him on what had changed. Ronav even found himself hoping that she would tell him what to do as far as setting up their sleeping arrangements went. Anything to keep busy and it served the story she had woven that he was her servant.

At last the carriage opened and Vyla stepped to the ground then turned and lifted her hand to help Lady Telra down. The Lady, though still dressed extravagantly, at least wore an outfit that looked a little more suited to the road. She had black stockings with a sky-blue skirt that ended above her knees at the front but curved down and reached nearly to the ground at the back. A violet long-sleeved shirt covered her torso which would have been plain if not for the curtains of purple fabric that ran from her shoulders to her wrists. Woven into her hair were two more lengths of fabric, dark blue this time, that trailed from her all the way to her ankles. Looks like a bird, Ronav noted with a degree of mockery, albeit an exotic bird.

Telra glanced around the developing campsite briefly before locking her focus on one of the guards whose red-striped helmet denoted him as the captain. She said something that Ronav didn't quite catch at this distance and direction, then strode towards the man.

Vyla, meanwhile, glided across the grass, as smoothly and silently as she always moved, to where Ronav stood. "What do you think, Sye?" she asked.

"Of?" he replied warily. This wasn't going to yet another of the Siren's strange ideas for a game.

Vyla pointed to the Lady who was currently giving out orders to her entourage. "Of our benefactor."

"She looks good. I take it you two enjoyed yourselves?" Ronav asked with feigned interest.

"You have no idea." Then Vyla paused a second before gradually turning her playful smile upon him. "She doesn't realize it, but I've dressed her as close as I could manage to the outfit of a PleasureSister."

It took a moment before understanding flashed into Ronav's mind. "You're telling me that you got the person helping as and dressed her up as a whore against her knowledge... why?"

Vyla turned her eyes upon him and Ronav saw at once how cold and dark they had gone. "Are you questioning me, Shasling?" she asked, her voice filled with venom. "Do you think yourself somehow more intelligent and cunning than I?"

Ronav tried to swallow but his mouth had suddenly gone dry. "I don't—"

"Forget it," Vyla broke in, though her smile didn't return. With that she turned her back on him again and watched, cross-armed, as their campsite slowly unfolded.

Ronav stifled the urge to snap at her. It didn't take a genius to know that doing so would only make things far worse. Confusion clouded him momentarily. Didn't the Siren flip her emotions back to normal, or at least happy, when she did this sort of thing? Yet this time her iciness failed to fade.

"Can you please tell me what the change of plans was?" Ronav asked stiffly and hoped it wouldn't make things worse.

"Well... since you're being so polite."

Her voice remained harsh as before as she turned around in a manner that only a shape shifter could. Her front and back folded together such that Vyla faced Ronav in an instant. "I've revealed to Lady Telra that I am a Siren. I—"

"What!?" Ronav hissed quietly as he could.

"Hush, Sye," Vyla commanded and she held a finger over his lips for a fraction of a second. "She can be trusted and it will be to our benefit. Now she will hold a far greater respect for us, both out of fear and curiosity. Who, she will wonder to herself, are these travelers and what do they intend. And beneath all that, she will find me irresistibly exotic. Not to mention," Vyla added as her voice took on a husky tone, "The leagues of possibility that this will add to our private fun."

As usual, Ronav couldn't help but briefly envision the two women lying in each others arms and joined in some teasingly erotic manner that he knew had to be totally unrealistic. He shook the thought away and challenged her plan instead. "How do you know all this?"

"I know this because this is how the minds of you Shaslings operate. What is the phrase you have? Inquisitiveness slew the cat? You will chase mysterious things even if they may get you killed. But you remain right to be skeptical and that is why you will cooperate with me in my efforts to win her over completely."

"Ugh, fine," Ronav groaned as he rubbed his eyes. This day had been far too long. "Can we at least set up the tents first?"

"If you wish, Sye. Where did you pack them, on the carriage?"

"I didn't pack them, you did." Ronav thought back to this morning which now felt more like it had happened several days ago. They had been about to leave for market street when he remembered that they would need sleeping arrangements for the journey. Then he had fetched two old and tattered tents that were scarcely more than a bit of cloth with some sticks to stretch over and Vyla had agreed to carry them. "You said you'd carry them... inside you..."

"In— inside me? Where, pray tell?" Vyla looked herself over as though the tents might suddenly burst from her stomach. "Do you think my body somehow has infinite space for storage?"

"But you keep other things inside yourself."

"Yes, a small pouch of pearls, a set of knives and some other possessions that take very little space. Not two whole tents."

"Then why did you say you would carry them?" Ronav groaned.

"You didn't hear the sarcasm in my voice? You are the mighty Taigin, why didn't you carry them?"

Ronav opened his mouth to argue further but shut it again when sense told him how pointless it would be to do so. Besides, he had to admit a fair degree of fault here. Still, it would help if the Siren spoke plainly from time to time. "Okay, so I guess we're sleeping outside."

Vyla scoffed. "Perhaps you are, Sye. I imagine that I will find a place in the carriage." And with that, the Siren spun around and stormed towards the campsite and the fire that had begun to blaze there.

Ronav watched her become a silhouette against the flickering, orange glow and wondered for a while if he should follow. The right choice would be to do so, he knew, but at the moment he felt unable to stand facing her again. No doubt, the second he sat with Vyla among the Lady's entourage, the jokes and taunts would begin.

Instead of chasing that possibility, Ronav turned around and walked from the grassy clearing to the darkening fold of the forest. He trod between the evening-shadowed trees and plants and thought about the journey that he had embarked upon. Already regret was gnawing at his insides. Maybe this wild pursuit had been a bad idea. Certainly it didn't make a lot of sense. But now that the wheels were in motion, Ronav felt powerless to stop them. He had tied himself to a Siren and he knew that undoing such a bond would take far more work than what had gone into bringing it about.

After several minutes more of walking, Ronav found a dense copse of trees from the center of which jutted a particularly large redwood that had wrapped its roots and trunk around an outcropping of granite.

Ronav sat upon one of the comfier looking roots and stared up at the blackening sky. He turned his thoughts to the events of the day. So much had happened since he had risen from bed to go fishing this morning. Where would he be right now if he hadn't gotten involved with those fishermen who had caught Vyla? He knew one thing for certain, he wouldn't have returned home soon after to have that other-worldly turn in the sheets.

As much as Ronav tried to resist it, he began reliving that section of the day. The sensations of her body against his and the electricity of being inside her.

In the confines of his pants, Ronav's cock began to awaken. He could almost feel her supple, smooth skin and deliciously full breasts pressed against him. Curse the Siren for effectively enslaving him with her body. Even now he felt the urge rising to return to camp and seek her out. And what of the Siren they were supposed to be pursuing? Ronav wanted to think that he would leave Vyla immediately and go to the Southsea Siren at once. After all, his dreams of the past few months had left him wanting nothing less. But now he had known Vyla far longer than the other predator of the ocean and would no doubt only become better acquainted as the journey wore on.

As abruptly as they had surfaced, Ronav tore himself away from such thoughts. No point in considering them now when that future remained so far away and so shrouded in uncertainty. Instead his focus shifted back to the growing bulge in his pants and again his mind rewound to this mornings activities and Vyla's energetic folds that had enveloped him so well. It had been a while since Ronav had last jacked off. With the orange-haired Siren visiting him every night, he had hardly felt the need to. Yet now as the tightness of his pants continued to build, he began to consider the option.

With a will of its own, Ronav's right hand began undoing his belt. Soon his cock sprang from its well-worn fabric confines and into view with his hand wrapped tentatively around it and, just as suddenly, there came a soft yelp from somewhere in the trees nearby.

Ronav froze, but not before stuffing his rigid member back into place, and perked up his ears. Someone was out here with him. "Who's there?" he called into the darkness while his eyes scanned the black lines of the trees. "Vyla?"

At that moment Ronav realized that the cry had come from the treetops rather than the ground. He looked up to where a light breeze was rustling through the canopy and parting branches. Then he noticed a shadow among them that looked far too person shaped to be anything else. "Who's there?" he called again, far more warily this time.

No voice replied but he could see the figure moving forwards and pushing through the foliage. Ronav stood and took on a stance that he hoped would be a little more intimidating than he had been sitting down with his cock out. Finally the figure, seemingly floating, emerged enough from the treetops to pass through a ribbon of moonlight and Ronav saw that his onlooker in this patch of woods was a woman.

More like a girl, he decided after a second or two of staring.

The girl's features were youthful and soft, even buried under the thick layer of dirt and grime that marred her skin. She hovered closer down to him and Ronav at once confirmed that she was a Chayli, one of the wind-winged people.

The girl's eyes were brimmed with curiosity as they stared at him. She had clad herself carelessly in brown-furred skins of animals that matched her similarly brown hair which, Ronav noted, looked long enough to reach the backs of her knees were she standing and were it not such a tangled mass. At the moment it looked like a long, singular growth that had been caked with the filth of the forest.

"Hoy," Ronav ventured. What would a Chayli girl be doing out here. She had obviously been living in the woods for quite some time. Ronav quickly flashed his memories back through what he knew of the flying people. They liked to roam, they tended to live in windy places and sometimes settled far from civilization since distance didn't matter much. The women tended to keep their hair quite short as it interfered with flying. Strange then that this one had let hers grow to such a length. And she looked far too young to have settled out here. Yes, she had clearly crossed into womanhood, but only just and she had just as clearly been living here for a while. At least a year, Ronav had to guess by her wild and curious eyes. But it almost looked as if she hadn't seen another person in eons.

"Hoy?" he tried again after the first received only a curious tilt of the head.

"Qual cur zee?" she said and he could hear the question in the tone.

"Uh..."

Had he misheard? Definitely not. Just as definite was the fact that her words were not in the common tongue. The only other spoken language he knew of, but didn't know, was Auddes, the spellwords of the Ralta who were the masters of sound. But why would a Chayli girl living in the forest be speaking such a language? If she even was.

"Do you speak common?" he hazarded.

The girl cocked her head and floated closer on a steady breeze that emanated from the four, razor-edged appendages on her back. "Quol cur zee? Cur zee... la nalat?" She tilted her head the other way inquisitively and awaited an answer

"La nalat?" Ronav replied with the obvious subject of her question.

"Teb, la nalat." Still with the inquiring stare but she added a slight nod of encouragement.

For wont of something better to do, and at least satisfied that this girl wasn't somehow a threat, Ronav nodded back.

That seemed to get him somewhere. At once the girl swooped down to the forest floor and landed several feet from him. "Fril nalat," she remarked more cheerily. Then she held out both her hands, palms facing up, to a point halfway between her and Ronav.

Ronav stared for a moment with the sense that she was awaiting something. Still relatively lost, but driven by apparent success, he tried mimicking her action, seeing how that had seemed to work earlier.

Once Ronav's palms were presented too, the girl turned hers over and touched them to his. A greeting of sorts? The girl then withdrew her hands and met his eyes with her wide, curious gaze.

For several moments, silence reigned as one waited for the other to speak. At last Ronav decided to take the reigns. "What are you doing out here?" he tried, though he didn't really expect her to understand.

She didn't judging by the frown. "Quol cur zee ispavis?"

The time had come, Ronav decided, to accept that this girl and he didn't speak the same language. Although, at the moment, it seemed as if she didn't fully realize this. Ronav supposed that he had managed to bluff at least some degree of communication. Perhaps she thought he had the whole language under wraps.

Someone had to know something about her, even if she had been living in the forest for years. They were near a road, right? Someone had to have seen her during that time. And she must have parents somewhere. At this stage they had traveled to be closer to Shadetree Fold than Ripples on the Water. Perhaps one of the members of Lady Telra's entourage could shed some light on this person.

"Do you want to come with me?" said Ronav cheerily and he held out a hand for her.

She looked at the hand and her frown creased further. "Zee'ur yvull." With that remark, the girl spun around and sprang towards the treetops on a gust of wind. She grabbed hold of a branch, peered over her shoulder and waved. "Lees yvull nalat."

Ronav almost called to the girl but she vanished so quickly into the darkened canopy. What could he have said?

For several minutes he stood waiting in the dense copse of trees and watching the gentle breeze's influence on the branches that the girl had moved between. Eventually Ronav had to concede that she had no intention of returning. At least not in the space of time he felt willing to remain exposed in this forest. No doubt the wolves and other, lesser nocturnal life would be heading out for the hunt.

Ronav's stomach rumbled abruptly at the thought of food and he realized at once how long it had been since he had last eaten. With one final glance at the shadowy treetops, he began the journey back to camp.



Arms of the Ocean Ch. 05



A blazing, deadwood-fueled fire and two pots of stew greeted Ronav on his return to the campsite. Two seemed a bit excessive until he noticed the few Taigin among Lady Telra's employ and he realized that the second must be a meatless alternative. How considerate of them. What Ronav didn't notice, as he served himself out a portion into a bowl that one of the guards passed him, was Vyla.

A sweeping look around the campsite told him that the Siren was nowhere in sight. Nor was their benefactor. Had they both retired to the carriage? It seemed a little early yet. Ronav tried not to dwell on such things and instead sat down to sate the groaning of his stomach.

"Don't servants normally serve?" asked a guard sitting nearby, a Neynas, judging by the fair skin and hair that showed through his armor.

Ronav noticed then that all the men around the campfire had their eyes on him. "Excuse me?" he replied, hoping they wouldn't perceive the response as rude.

"Where were you when we were setting up?" another asked, a Chayli with with a red-striped helmet that rested at his side.

"My... employer... had a job for me to do."

For several seconds the men all stared piercingly into his eyes until the man with the red-striped helmet, apparently the commander, spoke on their behalf. "What'd she want you to do in the woods?"

"She wanted— ahem." More time to think. "She likes sugarvine and thought there might be some growing wild round these parts. Wanted me to go looking since, y'know, all Taigin are good with plants." Ronav met the eyes of the other Taigin around the fire as he sarcastically added the stereotype. Though faint, he could see a few glimmers of knowing agreement.

"Sugarvine..." the commander mused as he picked his spoon through the bowl in his lap. "Bit cold this far north for those, isn't it?" And, as if missing the message that Ronav had just given, the commander looked to his left at the Taigin sitting beside him.

"Oh yeah," the darker-skinned man scoffed. "Because I'd know all about that."

A ripple of laughter ran through the guards and Ronav joined them on the cusp, pleased that he had at least broken the ice with these men. Even though it had only been a day, somehow Vyla's company felt like it had lasted a lifetime. "Do any of you know where Vyla's gone? My employer, I mean."

"That's her name, huh?" The commander half grunted as the laughter died. "Yeah she came over here for a moment and took..." he trailed off and clasped a hand around his chin in thought. "She took a sniff of the stews, then she headed off towards the road, didn't she?"

Red-stripe looked around the circle and several of his men nodded.

"Think I glanced her going into the woods over there," said one as he pointed to the trees on the far side of the road.

===

In the common language, no word existed to describe the gait at which Vyla moved. Nor did one exist in her native tongue. The closest thing she could think of, had she cared to do so, was undulous, yet even that failed to fully capture the motion.

Had Vyla currently possessed any semblance of a mouth, she would have smirked at what Ronav would think were he to see her now. Not that he would recognize her in this form. She moved silently along the ground in a billowing sort of roll, her body constantly changing shape to avoid brushing against even a single leaf or snapping a single twig. Sometimes her pace involved three limbs, sometimes four or even upwards of eight depending on how far Vyla had to stretch her body to skirt around a particularly dry-looking patch of debris.

She looked grotesque, a fact that she freely admitted. Stealthy as this form was, Vyla would never let anyone, that she didn't intend to immediately kill, see it. But such was the sacrifice for strength and, though it had taken her months to perfect, she couldn't deny this form's prowess at hunting silently on land. Vyla had even changed the color of her skin to be striped black and gray so that her silhouette blended seamlessly with the forest. The colors didn't travel with her, either, instead sliding down her body to hide the fact that she moved at all.

A scent and the sudden, faintest rustling of leaves caught Vyla's attention and her slow, rippling movements came to a halt. Her eyes slid along the outside of her body and extended upwards on a set of short stalks to better peer into the gloom and avoid catching a glimpse of her disgusting form.

Amid the roots of a tree she spied movement. A small, flat-nosed beast with a thick patch of quills upon its back. She didn't know the true name for it but, as with all animals a hungry Siren happened upon, she knew one. Prey.

Like a spring, Vyla hunched down as her muscles relocated for the kill. She lunged forwards in a single bound towards the creature and her forearms changed into pointed tips as solid as bone. The soft whisper of wind became her prey's only warning before she fell upon it and bore her two, massive spears between the dozens on its back.

===

"What do you think she's up to out there, anyway?" the captain, who Ronav now knew to be called Kano, mused to his men as he peered towards the distant treeline once again.

With the ice from earlier broken, each man around the circle had introduced himself.

"She'd never believe there's no sugarvine. Probably seeing for herself," Ronav replied.

The Taigin guard, named Altis, sitting beside his captain, grunted. "She couldn't wait to hear it from you first?"

Ronav gave a shrug and picked at his stew. Whoever had made it had added far too much salt. They must have picked up a ton of the stuff back in town and had been a bit eager in using it.

"Oh well," said Kano. "At least she's something to look at."

An enthusiastic wave of agreement rolled through the men. A second later, one of them added, "Too bad she's fighting on the same team as the Lady."

That brought about another series of nods and approving murmurs.

Ronav frowned. "Fighting on— oh right."

"So what's it like working for her?" Kano asked.

"What do you mean?" Ronav replied. He got the clear sense that he wasn't being asked about the actual job side of things.

"You know," another guard chimed in. "Doesn't she get a bit frustrating. Especially when she's wasting her looks on other women."

"Frustrating, yeah, but not because of what you say."

"Really? You didn't choke up when she turned you down?"

"What? I never even tried." Ronav tightened his grip around his spoon and bowl.

"Right," Kano said sarcastically. "I guess it doesn't matter, though. Telra seems pretty adamant about not coming around to see the light. I mean, if she can resist this, there must be something wrong with her. Same must be true for your Lady."

"Must be," said Ronav apathetically. He decided then that he may have made a mistake in wanting these men to accept him. They were brutes through and through.

For a moment Ronav wondered why he should care what was said about Vyla. He quickly pushed that concern aside. Just because she joked with him so extensively, didn't mean she had to be degraded by the guards' discussions.

After that, the novelty of Ronav's presence waned somewhat and the guards began talking among themselves about things he had no interest in.

When would Vyla be back? And where had that Chayli girl got to?

Ronav looked up at the canopy and, for a fraction of a second, thought he saw her dirty, tangled hair amid the trees. But nothing more than leaves waved to him.

===

Vyla sat with her back rested against the trunk of an oak as she stared at the carcass of her prey, its body steaming slightly in the cooling air. What she wouldn't give right now for a nice slab of salmon or a reef-shark thrashing between her claws. This creature had been a nuisance to eat with all its spines and the dirty fur covering its flesh.

Regardless, Vyla had eaten until her body no longer quivered in hunger and now she laid back to think. All at once the events of earlier flooded her mind. She focused on one in particular, the only one that mattered, despite the discomfort it caused.

Lady Telra had seen her naked. Not the kind of naked the Shaslings concerned themselves with that came from a lack of clothing. Perhaps a better word for it would be skinless. The woman had seen Vyla in her truest of forms, one that a Siren only entered in the rarest of circumstances and never showed another living soul.

Vyla clenched her teeth at the thought of her carelessness. Sleeping in the presence of another. Sleep relaxed the shape shifting muscles and caused the body to steadily revert to its natural state. Even an hour in would see her looking like—

No, Vyla snarled but failed to escape the image that entered her mind. A view through Telra's eyes as she looked at the floor of her carriage and saw the translucent mass of goo in which floated a heart, a brain and myriad lesser organs.

Such a weak and pathetic creature she was beneath the surface. Why, had Telra the mind to, she could have reached down and plucked Vyla's own straight from her viscous body. And what would happen to Vyla then? She understood that most Siren's to have their brains removed in such a way survived perhaps fifteen seconds outside their bodies before asphyxiation brought about unconsciousness and death soon after.

Sindrakovo, the Siren's called it. The common translation went something like 'death by stealing the brain'. Fifteen seconds of no sight nor sound, smell, taste or touch. Fifteen seconds of nothing but humiliating disorientation, panic and helplessness. Vyla had been a hair's breadth away from it.

Her breathing quickened and she could no longer stop the plummeting into the depression that she had only just managed to stem until now.

A puddle of ooze. A pool of goo. The Sirens were nothing more than that and she was even less for revealing the fact.

Vyla lifted her hands to her head, grew claws from her fingertips, and sunk them into her flesh. Then she began pulling her body in two down the center.

She stopped as she reached her chest and instead solidified every inch of herself until she could no longer move.

Let me die here, Vyla prayed. At least that way she could avoid ever being seen skinless again, for it would surely happen if she could break the greatest taboo among Siren's so carelessly.

Worse still was the fact that she hadn't gutted Telra immediately. Even if the guards had killed her afterwards, at least Vyla could die knowing that none to see her skinlessness had gone unpunished.

All sense of time vanished as Vyla lay upon the moist, dark earth. Occasionally a soft whimper escaped her lips with every revisitation of the nightmare. She didn't bother tensing her shape shifting muscles and, as the evening grew later, her body began to soften as her flesh slowly reverted to its natural state.

Good, let all the world see how wretched I am, Vyla thought, still wracked with self-loathing. But then she sat up with a new plan.

Telra had seen her skinless but hadn't displayed the same disgust that any Siren would. Yes there had been fear but that was born of shock and confusion rather than the knowledge of what she viewed. Perhaps the Shasling didn't fully understand the significance.

Despite all the hatred and disgust that pulsed through Vyla's liquid body, a small spark of comfort grew from that realization. If she went back to the camp now, none of them would care. Only Telra knew about this, after all.

Vyla slithered to her resolidifying feet and gritted her teeth. Life would continue for now. At least until she could decide what to do about the one who had seen her skinless.

===

For some time after finishing his stew, Ronav lingered at the fire and listened to the conversations of the other men.

The night crept on and Telra's entourage began to bunk down, save two of the guard who sat to keep watch upon the roof of her carriage.

Ronav found the softest patch of dirt he could, hidden a ways into the trees. There he waited for Vyla to return. Where had she gotten to? Surely she would have finished hunting by now. Ronav assumed that was what she had gone into the woods to do, at any rate.

The campfire talk had occasionally revisited the Siren, much to Ronav's distaste. Kano seemed steadfast in his belief that he could somehow bring Vyla around to the company of men. Not that he needed to. Ronav didn't know whether or not he should look forward to the attempt. On the one hand, it would no doubt prove amusing to watch, yet there was the distinct possibility that Vyla would reject the advances with lethal force.

Best to forwarn her, Ronav decided then.

Eventually his thoughts began to turn fuzzy and, though Ronav had wanted to remain awake until Vyla returned, he found the talons of sleep irresistible as they reached up to claim him.

===

The dense, shadowy gloom of evening remained over the forest when Ronav awoke. He sat up, confused. What had caused his wakefulness? His back groaned somewhat and his skin felt dirtied by the leaves but those sensations had been present the entire time.

A glance over to the campsite revealed that the fire had died down substantially. Some hours must have passed.

Ronav's ears pricked towards a faint rustle of leaves overhead. He looked up and stifled a cry at the sight.

Looking down at him, her tangled knot of hair blended with the branches and foliage, was the Chayli girl. She sat rigidly still upon a thick bough and looked as though she had not intended to awaken him.

"H— uh, la nalat?" Ronav tried, hoping that the words meant some sort of greeting.

Unlike before, the girl retreated on a curtain of air to a higher branch and resumed her observation.

Scared, Ronav surmised. Curious yet made wary by their previous encounter.

Ronav sat for a while as he considered the options. Curiosity had him in as much a vice as she. Who could this strange girl be, what language does she speak, what is she doing out here, all these questions plagued Ronav.

He though again about fetching one of Telra's men in the hopes that they might know something. As soon as it had surfaced, Ronav shrugged that idea away. With the girl now on edge, she would likely spook at the arrival of another person.

"Come down, I won't hurt you," Ronav tried instead with a futile hope that she might understand suddenly.

No such luck.

"What am I going to do with you?" he wondered aloud.

"Talking to yourself?" came Vyla's voice and, shortly after, the Siren herself, both emerging from the darkness to Ronav's left.

Ronav sprang to his feet. "Where've you been?" he asked, the girl above briefly forgotten.

"Hunting. Have I missed anything?"

"N— wait." He looked up and his heart sank for a moment when he couldn't find the Chayli. Then he spotted her further up from before. "See there?" He pointed.

Vyla squinted into the treetops. "See what? There is— oh, a friend of yours?"

"Come on down," Ronav called as he beckoned with his arm. "It's safe."

The Chayli girl didn't move, not that much else had been expected.

"She doesn't seem to speak common."

Vyla nodded then looked at him. "As I witness. But she is of no concern to us. Let her stay in her tree, Shasling, we must talk of—"

"Shasling?"

Ronav and Vyla again turned their focus to the treetops to find the girl staring with renewed interest. She had even hovered a little closer and the air from the blades upon her back disturbed the surrounding foliage.

"Quer ke zee hass sha Shasling?" the girl asked.

Vyla crossed her arms and took a stance that looked almost defensive. "Itri su quol sha su." She finished by nodding towards Ronav, then looking at him. "We see she speaks Siren, not common."

"Wha— how?"

But Vyla's attention had returned to the girl who continued to hover closer.

Nearing the ground now, the girl persisted in her inquiry. "Aab zee'ur Shasling tii."

"Lu," Vyla replied simply.

"Lu? Dash quol?"

"A'ja la Siren." With that, Vyla's body rippled and she changed shape into that of her midnight-haired form, complete with the gown that Ronav had first seen her in.

At once, a scream tore through the forest. The Chayli's face contorted in fear and she shot up from the forest floor with a swirl of leaves in her wake. Despite her terror, she sped through the branches with the agility of a true forest creature and soon vanished from sight.

Several seconds passed before the two remaining regained themselves enough to speak.

"That was certainly interesting," Vyla remarked casually.

"What happened!?" Ronav asked, his eyes darting between the Siren and his last glimpse of the girl. Then he realized the greater concern and looked towards the campsite where he could already see the night watch stirring, swords drawn and scanning the trees. Would they stand their ground or come to investigate? The scream likely would have awoken the rest of the camp.

"Allow me to explain, Sye." Much to Ronav's relief, Vyla slipped back into her Neynas disguise. before continuing. "She wanted to know why I referred to you as 'land dweller' when I myself appeared to be a land dweller. I told her I did so because I am not a land dweller. Then she asked what I was so I showed her."

"But why did she scream? Why did she fly off?" Ronav looked to the treetops in the hopes that the girl might return but she hadn't.

"It is a mystery, Sye. Why does this girl know my language yet fear me. What's more, she did not recognize the fact that I am a Siren when I spoke as one. There is no connection there. Most perplexing."

"I'm going after her," said Ronav with the peaking of his curiosity. He stepped past Vyla and began pushing through the undergrowth in vaguely the same direction as the girl had gone.

"Good. I will remain here to inform Telra's watch of the bat that scared me so."

===

For the second time that night, Ronav found himself wandering into the inky black of the forest. Occasional gaps in the treetops allowed thin slivers of moonlight through but they did little to change the black-on-black-striped void that stretched into infinity before him.

"Hello, uh..." Ronav trailed off in his call. Still the problem of how to communicate remained. If he even could find the girl, she would no doubt prove more reluctant than ever to follow him or interact in any way.

Ronav paused by a rotted-out trunk for a moment to scold himself for not thinking to have Vyla share some of the Siren language. The only words he could think of at the moment were Sye, Shasling and la nalat. Though the latter's definition eluded him, it seemed key somehow. His usage of it had coaxed the girl down from her tree before. A request or greeting of some sort?

"La nalat?" Ronav called to the darkness.

No reply. Perhaps the girl lurked someplace else.

Ronav thudded around the forest until his feet began to groan. All the while he called whatever greetings came to mind and even tried the occasional Siren words yet not once did anything reveal itself to him.

Only when Ronav came to the decision to head back did he realize the problem. The shadowy lines of the woods surrounded him completely. No direction seemed correct anymore. The way he had come looked the same as any other track of forest and who knows what path he had taken before the ten or so paces he could see. All the looping and winding around obstacles could place the road anywhere.

"Perfect," Ronav muttered as he sat down against a cut of earth.

Though he had no experience with being lost, it didn't take an expert on the subject to know that wandering any further at night would only make things worse. Besides, this section of ground hardly differed from the one that he had chosen some hours ago.




Arms of the Ocean Ch. 05



Ronav scraped a pile of leaves together and lay his head upon it, bracing himself for the hard night ahead. What remained of it, at least.

Maybe I'll open my eyes and see you again, he thought to the girl, wherever she may have fled.

===

Swords of daylight carved their way into the forest and screamed through Ronav's eyelids. He peeled them apart and, for the second time in a single night, heaved himself upright. A dense cloud hung over his thoughts, brought about by such restless sleep. For a while he could only lean against the exposed dirt that had been carved into view by the elements as he tried to get some sense into his limbs.

A minute passed and Ronav finally scraped together the will to act. He needed to get back to the campsite. No doubt they would be heading off soon.

The position of the sun told him where to go. An eastern bearing would see him back to the road. Ronav took a few steps before recalling the thought he had had before nodding off.

A slow scan of the treetops told Ronav that he had no silent observers. The girl had left him alone for the night. Either that or she had departed before awakening him this time.

The sounds of the morning filled the forest as Ronav made his way back to the road. A cascading symphony of birdcalls and thripsing insects bounced between the trees and their flashes of movement occasionally silhouetted in the sunshine.

A short ways into his walk Ronav paused as a sight in the treetops caught his attention. There, tangled amid the thickest branches, sat a large mass of sticks and brush that looked to be bound with mud. A second mass sat above it as a roof. Overall, it looked like a nest for the largest bird to have ever lived.

Either that or a wild Chayli girl, Ronav noted.

The tree from which the nest received most of its support had a number of low-hanging branches that looked relatively strong. Ronav stared at them as he considered the possibility of climbing.

A ray of foresight graced Ronav's thoughts. He saw himself clambering up the tree to the lip of the nest and peering inside at the sleeping, fur-clad figure of the Chayli girl. Then she awoke, cried out in shock and the confusion caused him to lose his grip and fall to the forest floor.

Ronav made a single cluck with his tongue. Better not to surprise the girl that way, seeing how on edge she had been last night.

"Hoy... uh, la nalat?" he shouted to the air and hoped that at least something in those words would make sense to the girl.

For a while nothing happened. Ronav thought he could hear a faint rustling but it could just have easily been the gentle, morning breeze as it whispered a path through the foliage. Then he saw a flash of movement as a face briefly peeked down at him before disappearing again into the nest.

"Nalat. La nalat?" Ronav tried, hoping he wasn't simply saying 'hello' over and over.

Again the girl peeked out but she lingered this time. "Zee'ur luus la Sye, cur zee."

"Uh, Sye?" Ronav replied with the only word he knew. Although he was beginning to recognize some of those others. The sounds, at least, he still had no clue what they might mean.

The girl rolled her eyes and floated slowly from her nest. She sank down until she hovered several meters above Ronav's head. Her face scrunched momentarily, then she spoke. "Mmm, a'ja Yis." The girl patted herself on the chest. "Yis."

A second later and the meaning clicked. She was telling him her name. Ronav placed a hand on his own chest and replied clearly as he could. "I'm Ronav."

"Ronav," the girl tasted the name.

He stared at her and took in the soft innocence of her face. Though she could clearly be called a woman, the absence of civilization had kept maturity from her features. She looked wild, wide-eyed and curious. Yet this seemingly-innocent creature of the forest spoke the words of the sadistic water people.

"How did you get here?" Ronav wondered aloud.

The girl cocked her head. "Quol?"

He needed a translator, there could be no denying it. Yet, as last night had revealed, Vyla instilled a great fear in the girl. Somehow that would have to be overcome.

"Yis, come back to the camp with me?" Ronav pointed to her, himself and the direction of the road as he spoke, then made his index and middle fingers walk through the air.

Yis frowned and moved her fingers in the same way. Her face abruptly uncreased and she shook her head and floated back. "Lu. Lu."

No, Ronav guessed. Yis feared Vyla too greatly.

"Uh... Siren..." Ronav trailed off and scorched through his mind for any other words that he knew in her language. Anything that Vyla had shared. Nothing came up. "Siren friend." He clasped his hands together, fingers knitting between one another, in the hopes that this might convey the message.

Yis looked at his hands, her frown returning while Ronav repeated 'Siren' and reclasped his hands several times.

"Lu," Yis said suddenly. "Lu, Siren cur'us nalati."

As those words left Yis' mouth, she flew up into the canopy on the stream of air that jetted between the blades on her back. A shower of leaves trickled down through the morning and Yis soon vanished between the emerald treetops.

Ronav let out a wearied sigh. The girl clearly disagreed with the thought of Vyla being a friend. Her fear of Sirens ran deep.

No deeper than normal, Ronav noted to himself. After all, he had to admit that between he and the girl, it was he who had the peculiar opinion of the water people. Fear would normally be regarded as the healthy response. That reasoning would have been the end of things had Yis spoken any language other than that of those she feared.

With nothing left for him in the woods, and with departure preparations no doubt underway, Ronav resumed his brisk strides towards the camp, taking one last glance at the trees and the nest that sat among their branches. Perhaps some day later, once this adventure had ended, he could return and try again to unravel the mystery of Yis.



Arms of the Ocean Ch. 06



Author's note: 

Apologies for that break but, like I said elsewhere, things needed to stew a while longer. So here's Arms of the Ocean's return. To reiterate my reminder in Flexible Morals, this story takes place in the same universe as any other things I may submit except that here, to greater distinguish erotic from non-erotic, the names of races, locations and certain things have been changed. 

=== 

Shadetree Fold couldn't have chosen a better name for itself, Ronav decided as they rolled into the town. It situated itself between two forested hills that had long ago been cut through by a river. From a distance, it looked as though the trees stood far taller than those in the rest of the forest when really they were the same size. 

As Ronav understood, this had once been a purely Taigin village but its convenience as a stop on the way to Ripples on the Water had steadily turned it into a place for all sorts. Walkways spanned the treetops and bridged the fold while the larger structures sat around the trees, sometimes literally, or buried themselves in the hills. 

A vast wave of relief washed over Ronav with their arrival. The last leg of the journey had been especially taxing. He had kept expecting Lady Telra to suddenly burst from her carriage and turn Vyla in. But the occasional, muffled noise that drifted through the walls and above the droning sounds of their surroundings told Ronav that his 'friend' of sorts was hard at work in keeping their hostess happy. 

Ronav loathed to admit it, but he had felt a pang of jealousy when Vyla had retired so swiftly to the Lady's side. Had that one fling in bed yesterday morning been his only chance with the Siren? By now Vyla had spent far more time fucking Telra. Though, to be fair, her motives were ulterior in that case. Perhaps it wasn't so bad. Besides, if all went well, Telra would be out of their lives soon enough. 

=== 

The air within the carriage hung heavy with the scent of sweat and sex. Vyla and Telra lay upon the floor with their arms wrapped around each other, both enjoying the glow of their most recent session. 

Inside Vyla's mind, the box that contained her true feelings sat firmly shut in the darkest of crevices. So she smiled when Telra leaned over a planted a lazy kiss upon her lips. 

Vyla hummed her satisfaction once the Lady moved away. "Mmm, I've awoken a beast in you. I hope you'll not be ruined to other women." 

Telra rolled over and pulled herself atop her lover's body. Their slick breasts pressed together and, almost instinctively, their legs parted so that they could more easily interlock. Then Telra closed what little distance remained between their mouths and began to gently nuzzle and kiss Vyla's lips. 

"Ruined in the best of ways," said Telra. "Now would you like to ruin me a little more?" 

"Oh how I wish to, dearest. But listen, I think we've arrived. We'd best get you cleaned up." 

But neither moved quickly to do so. They lingered together a few minutes more until the sounds of Shadetree Fold grew and it became undeniable that their stop soon approached. 

With palpable reluctance, Telra pulled herself from her lover's body and stood. Her hand absentmindedly traced its way up her thigh, well coated in both their juices, and stopped to rest upon the deliciously-abused lips of her vagina. 

"I shall count the seconds until we may next be alone," the Neynas woman sighed. 

Vyla shuffled towards the Lady. "One," said Vyla simply as she placed her tongue upon Telra's clit and began to caress. 

"Ah. We'll be here all day." Despite the protest, Telra's hands soon found their way to the back of Vyla's head to hold her there. 

After only a few seconds of assaulting the woman's clit with her tongue, Vyla soon found that she had to hold Telra's buckling legs to stop her from collapsing under the sensations. Yet even then, as Telra's climax drew near, she had to lower herself down, head thrown back in ecstasy as the tonguing barrage failed to cease or even slow. 

Soon a throaty moan of pleasure rolled from Telra's lips and she began to grind her hips against her lover's mouth. "Oh, Ka curse me if I ever get sick of this," she cried. 

A minute later, one filled with ragged breathing and curling toes, saw Telra's orgasm come to an end. 

Vyla reached for the dress from yesterday and again used it to wipe clean the Lady before making her decent for the outside. All the while, Telra's arms wandered playfully and Vyla had to choke back the urge to wrap her hands around the woman's neck. 

She was in control. Those emotions were safely tucked away. If she could feign passion in sex for so long, she could do this. 

And, Vyla comforted herself, It proves my prowess at deception. 

Though a true Siren would never show herself skinless, the voice of logic replied. 

"Gah," Vyla snarled. 

"What is it." A tinge of panic in the Lady's voice. 

"Nothing. These ties are troublesome." And she stumbled through their knotting to make the lie believable. 

"You should try from the front. But they are much easier to undo." 

"So I hope." Vyla replied, though really she would have preferred to shred her claws through the dress and everything in it. A few moments later saw her finished and she stepped back. 

The Lady twirled around and her long, green dress with ivory trim fanned around her knees. 

Where once Vyla may have felt a pang of lust at that sight, nothing but bitterness and resentment surfaced. How dare this Shasling act so innocent and carefree despite having witnessed her skinless. Vyla gritted her teeth silently. "I would love to stay and admire you, dearest, but I must speak with my servant." 

"Oh. Well, until l—later." 

Vyla turned her back to smile at the stammering that her change to the Neynas disguise invoked in Telra. The past few hours had shown that, while Telra certainly appreciated her company and the possibilities that came with it, any sign of shape shifting caused her to tremble ever so slightly. Still not quite over the ingrained fear of water 'demons' it seemed. 

Good, Vyla thought as she excited the carriage into the dappled, noon sunlight of Shadetree Fold. 

=== 

"Look to me." 

Ronav jumped at the voice and twisted around in his seat to see Vyla staring him in the eyes, barely a foot from his face. Perhaps the noise of the Fold had drowned it out, but he hadn't heard even the slightest whisper of her approach. 

"What is it?" he asked. 

"Nothing to speak of just yet. Let us disembark, perhaps." She shuffled a short distance to the edge of the carriage and peered over. 

Ronav did the same. The road they were traveling through Shadetree Fold had to be one of the largest, though still small, considering the shortage of space on the valley's walls. Plenty of stones had been pressed into the ground to give it a bit of firmness against the water of the river that ran no more than five meters to their right. Up ahead, with spotted shadows rolling across, a trader's wagon approached. A quick calculation left Ronav undecided as to whether the narrow road would allow enough room for both to pass. 

"Uh, okay," Ronav replied, still eyeing the oncoming wagon. "Let's jump off now." 

The soil between the stones had a slight give to it as the pair of them, under the curious eyes of Telra's guards, made their way ahead of the carriage. Fortunately the road was mostly bare of normal foot traffic. Shadetree Fold's ground level largely reserved itself for little more than trade. The town's populace clearly favored Chayli nowadays and a glance towards the treetops saw dozens of them swooping between the walkways. 

"Such a strange place to live," Vyla remarked with her head turned skywards. 

Ronav silently agreed, it all looked particularly awkward. There had to be some commodity nearby that brought people in. A particularly temperamental fruit, perhaps, that refused to grow anywhere else. Or maybe the river had once held streaks of gold. Either way, Ronav had never particularly cared for the smaller details of life outside Ripples on the Water. 

"Are you going to say anything?" he asked after a minute of her silence. 

Vyla blinked and her eyes focused on him. "Have you a plan on where to proceed from here?" 

"Further south, I suppose. That's where the Southsea... sirens... are, you said." A glance around confirmed that nobody could have heard his whisper. 

"I did. Perhaps I should have asked how you mean to do this. Lady Telra plans to remain here for several days and I haven't the patience to do the same." 

"So we go on without her. We catch a ride with someone else." Shadetree Fold looked to be doing rather well in terms of passers through. Ronav peered down the road and thought he could make out a gathering of wagons and carriages around a more open area. The trade depot, most likely. The place where everything got unloaded before being shipped around town. In a place like this it would be separate to the actual market. 

"I thought I could manage, sye, but we're used to traveling swiftly and these long journeys through mind-numbing wilderness will soon have me climbing the walls." 

A look in her direction saw a stiff, pursed-lipped woman staring back. The last thing Ronav wanted was a bored Siren. "You want to fly there. I told you I can't afford it." 

"I remember. But now that our friend knows the truth about me, we may have a way of converting my assets to a more manageable size." 

It took a moment for Ronav to catch her meaning. The pearls. Vyla wanted to sell one or several to Lady Telra. A sound enough plan, he had to admit. If the noblewoman hadn't yet raised the alarm for meeting a Siren face to face, why would she when presented with a business opportunity? 

"Okay," Ronav replied. "Let's do that." 

"But first, there is something else you will help me with." 

"Uhuh." His eyes narrowed. 

"In private I will tell you." 

That didn't sound good. Vyla had been willing to speak plainly enough out here. What matter could be more delicate that it required privacy? 

Ronav didn't have a chance to ask as a pair of the town watch patrolled by and Vyla took this moment to breeze back towards the procession behind them. 

Several minutes later and they all arrived on a well-paved expanse that had been carved into the side of the valley. Wagons of all makes and size sat around the edges while men unloaded the cargo to be taken away. For this there were small carts but also, interestingly, contraptions hanging down from the trees that consisted of a series of ropes, pulleys and a net at the bottom. Some of the porters loaded their burdens into the nets as another force hauled the crates, barrels and bags into the treetops. 

Lady Telra emerged from her privacy soon after the carriage had come to a halt. She strode into action with the confidence and drive that only a life of nobility could bring. Immediately she turned to the driver who still sat behind the horses. 

"Wensley," she called. "Make sure to have the carriage spotless by this evening, inside and out." 

Wensley gave a single nod, looking far more aware than he had in all the time that Ronav had been in his company. 

"Now Kano," Telra continued as she faced the captain of her private guard. 

"Yes milady?" he replied, having just dismounted from his horse. 

"And Rejold, where are you? Ah, the two of you shall accompany me to the lodgings. Let us be off then." 

A few moments later, Lady Telra began to ascend a stone stairway that ran the slope of the valley. She had to lift the front of her dress, far different and darker to that which Vyla had chosen yesterday, in order to keep it from dirtying on the ground. 

"We'll be staying elsewhere," Vyla half whispered. "I trust you possess at least enough to pay for somewhere decent." 

"Why not go with her?" Ronav asked. 

"You shall see. Now follow." 

Why Vyla thought to lead, Ronav didn't know. It almost seemed as though the Siren was somehow familiar with the town. Although, her desire to drag Ronav along could have just as easily stemmed from her desire to always be in charge. 

The pair of them travelled across a footbridge that led over the river, then up the slope of the valley until they reached the first of Shadetree Fold's pedestrian streets, if they could be called that. In reality, they walked little more than a boardwalk that had been suspended partway off the ground to meet the structures built against, around and above the surrounding tree trunks. 

"I imagine, Sye, that this all made more sense when the town was smaller, yes?" Vyla asked as her eyes darted around the twisting walkways. 

"Maybe, I've never been here before." 

Ronav agreed with her observation, though. There looked to be very little space left in the town. On one side of their current boardwalk, the side with the valley's slope, the buildings had been dug into the earth while on the other they stood on stilts, beneath which ran another path. 

After passing several promising doorways into the hillside, Vyla finally stopped and stared at one. To Ronav, it looked hardly different to any of the other potential inns that his Siren companion could have selected. 

"Here," she said after a moment or two of scrutiny. 

"Why not Vall's back there? It seemed nicer." 

"It also had a single entrance." Without another word, Vyla pushed through the double doors and entered. 

Ronav lingered for a moment, confused until he realized that the name of the inn, Halford's Crawl, stood proudly on a sign above both this hole to the hillside and the one a dozen meters back the way they'd come. 

Vyla was moving briskly across the floor by the time Ronav followed her in. His eyes darted about as he half-skipped to catch up. The thought that he should find the company of a Siren preferable to being alone in a place liked this sparked a fragment of amusement that he forced away. 

In more than scent did Halford's Crawl have the air of a worker's alehouse. There were few women present and the ones who were could have easily been mistaken otherwise. 

Massive stone bricks made up the walls of the main room while huge wooden beams stood firm to keep the hill at bay. The tables that Ronav passed roared with the conversation, laughter and shouting of Fold citizens on their noontime breaks or travelers come to swap stories. Many of the patrons were engaging in one manner of tavern game or another, be it pebbles, cup catches or darts. Surprisingly, there were even a few people playing the more intellectual game of neyralis, a strategic past time that based itself in Empress Ka's scourging of the nightmare creatures that had once inhabited these northern lands. 

Movement at the bar caught Ronav's eye and he immediately spotted Vyla waving him over with an impatient look upon her face. Behind the counter stood a stout-looking Taigin with an enormous beard. 

"Hurry up and pay the man, dearest," said Vyla with a wave of her hand once Ronav got near. 

"Uh, right. How much are we—" 

"Twelve stars for the night, friend," said the innkeeper. 

Ronav shot a glance to his compatriot as he dug through his pockets in search of the copper coins. She looked rather pleased at having selected something above what he would have considered to be their price range. Vyla's soft, smiling lips almost looked as though they were daring him to say something now or later. 

Maybe we won't be wanting for money soon, Ronav thought to himself. If this plan for Vyla's pearls went through, they could most likely buy the whole inn. 

Vyla snatched the key that the transaction earned and started off immediately towards the hallway that they were pointed down. Ronav made certain to keep pace this time, not wanting to allow even the slightest chance for the Siren to make plans without him. 

Their room waited deep in the hillside and immediately struck Ronav as being far overpriced. Its sole furnishings consisted of a set of drawers, a greasy mirror, an oil lamp, one double-sized bed and a fifrey plant that was trying its hardest to wash the gentle glow from its bulb around the room. 

Vyla made one sweep with her eyes before clucking her tongue and turning to Ronav. "This will not do," she said. 

"It does leave a lot to be desired," he agreed. 

"Return to the innkeeper and have him bring us an empty barrel." 

"Wh-why?" Ronav stammered. 

"Questioning me, shasling?" Her eyes flared a venomous green. 

"Wait!" Ronav stepped back into the hallway. "Didn't you have something to tell me first." 

Vyla drew in a slow, hissing breath of air and her shoulders rose. Then they sagged again and she relaxed as her eyes resumed their usual ocean blue. "Indeed. Close the door." 

Once more Ronav stepped inside and made sure that the large, sturdy bolt locked securely with the frame. When he turned around, Vyla had moved to the bed and was regarding him unreadably. 

"I wish for Lady Telra to die," she said in a tone that suggested this act would take as much thought as breathing. 

"How? Wait, why?" 

"Neither point is relevant." 

Ronav crossed his arms and steeled himself against the Siren's inevitable wrath. He'd put up with plenty so far. This went way over the line. "I'm not helping you." 

"I know. Do not mistake my mentioning this as a plea for help or a dare to try and stop me for you can do neither. I merely thought that as a partner in my travels, you may wish to know my plan." 

"But what if— Wait, your travels?" 

The Siren's eyes narrowed. "Perhaps it is time for you to learn my true reason for coming here. I am an assassin, sye, tasked with the killing of Lady Telra, among several other members of Shasling nobility." 

"No but—" Ronav's forehead creased under the revelation. The Siren's were notorious liars, deceivers and sadistic individuals all round, or so he had thought until his meeting with this one. Despite her cruel jests, Vyla had seemed relatively mild compared to the stories. Yet this past hour, perhaps even longer, had seen her reverting to the more standard reputation that the water people had developed. Thinking back, Ronav realized that she hadn't made any jokes at his expense in a while. Unless... 

"You're lying. This is another trick, isn't it," said Ronav as he folded his arms. 

"Of course I am, sye. If I were really an assassin, why in the depth's name would I tell you that?" 

Ronav's muscles unknotted themselves and he slouched a little in relaxation. "So you're not killing Lady Telra." 

"No, I am." Vyla slid off the bed and half skipped towards the door. She shot Ronav a look that dared to challenge the fact as she slipped by. "Do not get in my way." 

"But I thought—" 

Slam, the door replied as it stopped inches from Ronav's face. The fluid body of a Siren again proved its prowess as Vyla had undone the lock and whisked outside in barely a single motion. 

For several moments Ronav could only stand and stare at the tired-looking boards of wood as his mind raced in thought. This had to be another of that woman's ridiculous jokes that barely counted as such. She had been getting on so well with the Lady before, hadn't she? Besides, would Vyla really try to kill someone so far inland? There had to be some kind of law or taboo or anything in Siren society to discourage that sort of thing. 

Are you prepared to take the chance? asked Ronav's voice of logic. 

With a pained and wearied groan, Ronav reached for the handle and stepped out into the hallway. He spotted her immediately. Vyla's brisk pace had nearly brought her back to the main part of the inn that continued to hum with distant voices. 




Arms of the Ocean Ch. 06



Ronav opened his mouth to call out but shut it again a fraction later. There were others present. A Chayli man and woman approaching and another Taigin fumbling with the lock to his room a few doors down. Instead Ronav started off at a gait that he hoped wouldn't look too rushed. 

By now Vyla had rounded the far corner and vanished from sight. Ronav sped around it seconds later and gazed across the tables, so many of which were filled. He scanned for the Siren's back but nothing caught his eye. Nobody of note heading for the exits or making their way between the tables. The only blonde-headed individuals were sitting down or standing by the bar, none of which resembled Vyla in her Neynas disguise. 

She couldn't have shapeshifted... Ronav tried to reassure himself. With so many people to see? Impossible. But then... most were distracted by their games or conversations and even more had been drinking. Could Vyla have, while brushing past a group of patrons with their backs turned, changed the color of her hair or, perhaps... 

Donned a hood, Ronav realized. There, moving towards the exit, walked a feminine figure with a fold of white cloth pulled over her head. 

Ronav stumbled forwards, almost overturning a table of cards. Several angry shouts greeted his ears as he pushed and jostled across the barroom floor. 

The glare of the afternoon greeted Ronav upon his bursting outside. Stark beams of sunlight fell through the emerald canopy, almost seeming to seek out his eyes. Despite the brightness he glanced back and forth along the boardwalk and soon spotted his target. 

The woman walked back the way that he and Vyla had come. Back towards the tier junctions of the fold that would take her closer to the river and, ultimately, across to the side where Lady Telra had been headed. 

Ronav's feet thumped along the boardwalk and his haste brought more than a few looks from the other pedestrians. Fortunately there weren't many to impede his passing. Most of the folds inhabitants, being Chayli, chose to fly overhead. Thus, despite the town being well-populated, it didn't seem particularly crowded until one found himself indoors, as Ronav had just experienced. 

Though his target moved briskly, Ronav's troubled strides soon saw the gap closing. As he got closer, his certainty grew. This had to be her. The way she moved with such driven intent. 

"Vyla!" Ronav called as he placed a hand upon her shoulder. 

All at once, the woman whirled around, shook Ronav off and raised her hands partway. "Who are you?" she asked with a tinge of nerves in her voice. 

Everything Ronav had planned to say left his mind in a single flood. Looking back at him was not the face of Vyla, but rather the hood-obscured features of a Ralta. Only her nose and mouth could be seen below the cloth, upon which sat three vertical lines of a sunset purple where her eyes would have been. 

"What do you want?" she asked when her first question received no reply. 

"I—" Then Ronav gritted his teeth and stood firm. Vyla had time and again proven her skill at shape shifting and deception. She'd had plenty of time along this walk to make gradual, subtle changes. "You're not fooling me, Vyla. I know it's you." 

"You've me confused with someone else, stranger." Then, to herself with a touch of bitterness, "tirelessly do the Kelads see us all the same." With that she turned and continued on her way. 

Again Ronav faced a loss of words. He'd rarely had dealings with the Ralta. Not many ventured this far north. A shy race compared to the rest of the Kelad people. A race who, without eyes, wove their voices into a spell of vision. If Vyla truly had disguised herself as one, how could she see anything? 

Of course... 

Ronav lunged into a jog and, in seconds, regained the woman's side. "Before you go..." he started. 

"Ugh, are all northerners this troublesome?" The woman heaved as she faced him. 

"No, just me," Ronav said with a flash of a smile. He then moved one hand behind his back. "Tell me how many fingers I have up." 

The woman momentarily cocked her head, then shook it. "I've no time for games." 

"All you have to do is say." For any true Ralta, the answer would come simply. This one had only to cast her voice around Ronav's back to check. 

"I don't like having my time wasted, Taigin." 

"Nor do I. Now answer. Or perhaps the guards would like to know why a Ralta refuses to see with her voice?" 

The woman's lips pursed and she somehow managed to stare unwaveringly at Ronav with the marks of color upon her hood. At last her features softened and a narrow smile presented itself. 

"Cleverer than I thought, sye," she said in a voice belonging to Vyla. 

"I'm not letting you go through with it," Ronav replied as firmly as he could. 

Vyla stepped in slowly and her arms crept up to drape over Ronav's shoulders. She leaned in until their mouths were only inches apart. "Poor little Shasling. Floundering in a sea he doesn't understand." Then the visible features of Vyla's disguise went taut. "I must do this." 

Ronav tried to keep the Siren in his grip but she slipped through his arms almost instantly. A moment of panic shot through him at the thought that someone might have seen their exchange and grown suspicious. The fraction of a second that Ronav allowed himself to check revealed that the only person paying them any mind, who might have seen something odd, was a tired and dirty-looking Taigin sitting against a tree that grew beside the boardwalk. 

The bobbing of Vyla's hood again caught Ronav's eye. She had crossed to one of the walks that led back towards the river. Ronav's first thought was to pursue, but to what end? Words had proven useless, that left action. He briefly considered charging over and tackling her until he realized how that might look to any witnesses. Besides, there remained the very distinct possibility, or so Ronav hoped, that all this amounted to some hideously cruel joke on Vyla's behalf. 

She's not really going to do this, right? Ronav begged to Ka. It didn't seem possible that Vyla actually planned to stroll off and kill someone with as little thought put in as one would when considering what to have for breakfast. How did she plan to go about it? What about the witnesses, the escape, the investigation that would follow? More importantly, would Ronav find himself the target of scrutiny somehow? 

"Hngh," Ronav groaned and clasped his hands behind his head. Should have left her to die in that net. With that thought he forced himself forwards. He moved towards the river, mind set on finding one of Telra's guards. She had over a dozen, that would be enough to stop a single Siren, right? 

=== 

From the treetops, a girl watched the proceedings below. She hugged close to her chosen tree in the hopes that she might blend in and remain unseen. Her brown, dirty clothes camouflaged well with the trunk. 

The man was walking away now. He had let out a huff first. Yis guessed that his huffing might be directed at the Siren. Maybe the two weren't as good friends as she had first thought. Understandable, the Sirens stole people to be killed, played with, then eaten and not always in that order. So why did it look like the man, Ronav, was still following the Siren. 

Yis could only think of one possibility, he didn't realize how much danger he was in. She didn't know why, but she felt the need to make him realize. 

A check of her surroundings satisfied Yis that nobody was around. She let go of the tree and began hovering through the canopy, eyes fixed to Ronav. When next she could catch him alone, she planned to swoop— 

"Hoy, miss." 

"Eee!" Yis shrieked and jolted against a nearby branch, catching herself in the ribs with it. She looked to her left and saw a boy floating nearby, one hand extended and his face concerned. 

"Ooo, are you okay? I didn't mean to startle you." 

Wide-eyed with panic, Yis shot skywards. Her path through the foliage replied with lashes and slaps from the sticks and leaves but she ignored all of it. She soon burst out to the open air, then changed her course eastward, back to familiar forest. 

Plenty of other Chayli flocked up here but she ignored them all. There were no glances around or checks back to see if that boy had followed. Her heart pumped fear and the only antidote could be found in the cool tranquility of her trees. 

=== 

This side of Shadetree Fold had a far nicer air to it. Clearly the wealthier side of town. Even the trees seemed more upper class, if that were at all possible. Funny how the Shaslings determined their status by material or some such. If a similar system existed in Siren culture there would be no end to the thefts and killings as sisters made their grabs for power. 

And you would be first to fall. 

Vyla bit back the snarl as it rose to challenge that thought. I am powerful, she told herself. I will prove it to them. 

Them. She hadn't thought about them for some time. Not since leaving her city and coming to land. Her fellow sisters in the Tomateless, the wave hunters. It was their voices that drove her self-inflicted jeers. 

They're right, you cannot deny. Showing yourself skinless drives the fact deeper. 

Only then did Vyla realize that she had turned her arm to a bony spine and jammed it into a wooden post that held the walks above. She turned her arm to liquid, then back to its normal state and thanked sense that she had chosen a more secluded part of Shadetree Fold to do her piteous wallowing. 

Before any further thoughts of dissent could surface, Vyla shifted her body into that of a Neynas that none had yet seen, peeled away from her privacy and proceeded back the way she had come. A fork and a set of stairs took her to one of the upper tiers where a string of businesses embedded themselves in the hillside. Vyla asked a passerby where the richest inn of the fold could be found and soon stood before an establishment named The Gilded Bough. 

An odd title, Vyla thought, considering that much of the building, like so many others, went into the hill. 

The outer decor involved the surrounding trees which had been grown and trimmed to border the structure, then painted gold. Vines had been cultivated to hang in such a way that they acted as curtains for the windows. 

Inside, Vyla found herself in a situation she had not yet encountered. An inn and barroom that didn't roar with noise. The floor ran with patterned rugs and the walls held paintings rather than the heads of animals. Perhaps these richer Shaslings didn't waste any parts, though that seemed odd. Surely these would be the types who could afford to be wasteful, if her understanding of land culture was correct. 

Vyla began to move towards the tables and the few patrons who occupied them when a voice pulled her back. 

"How may I help you, madam?" 

The source came in the form of a tall, pale Chayli whose hair had been combed and parted down the center and whose lip held a narrow moustache. 

"You may direct me to the rooms," Vyla replied in a firm tone. 

"Of course, madam. May I see your seal of membership?" 

Vyla frowned as her thoughts jumped through several threads of deception simultaneously. A second later she decided on one. "I'm not a member of the inn, but I'm meeting one here." 

"I see." The man clasped his hands together. "Then may I ask the name of your liaison?" 

"It is a private meeting, Chayli. I shan't reveal my hosts details without his consent." 

This time it was the man's turn to frown. "In that case I must ask... Oh!" he exclaimed suddenly. "Oh, are you from the service?" 

"I am indeed," Vyla replied without missing a beat. 

"Ah, my apologies, madam. Yes, I should have realized. Your, ah... your liaison should be preparing now. If you'll follow me." With a wave of his hand, the man peeled off and moved briskly past the set of steps that led down to the barroom floor. 

Vyla let only the slightest bit of hesitation show in her stride. Internally she rushed through possibilities. An obvious case of mistaken identity. Who did this man think she was? The details: a rich inn, rich clients and an appointment calling for a woman from an unnamed service... 

Aha, of course. Vyla allowed herself an secretive smile. She had been mistaken for a whore. That story would do nicely. 

"My apologies again, madam, for not realizing sooner. You're a tad early though, I must admit. I fear sir may not yet be ready to... receive you." 

The nervousness of her escort told Vyla far more than his words. This man had obvious experience in the trade of hosting except when it came to services such as this one. He had likely begun here only recently, having originally worked at a place where whores weren't ordered to one's room. 

"The service does not bend too tightly to schedule. It makes things predictable and that is something we avoid in this business." 

"I see, madam." 

The discomfort of the host betrayed itself clearly in his strides. A married man, perhaps. Vyla tucked that piece of information away as she did with any tidbits that were learned about anyone involved in her deception. One never knew what may later prove useful, even if it initially appears tedious or trivial. 

"This one, madam," said the Chayli as he stopped outside a room marked eighteen. He tapped lightly on the door with a single knuckle. 

"What is it?" replied a gruff and impatient voice. 

"Your special request has arrived, sire." 

"Already?" Heavy feet thumped across the floor. "It's an hour early yet, assuredly." The door flung open and a balding Neynas noble with a coarse coating of stubble stood behind it. His stomach bulged from a life of indulgence and, at the present, could be viewed easily through his unbuttoned shirt. He took one look at Vyla before his gaze turned sour and shot to the Chayli. 

"Is this a joke, Miltro?" the man asked. 

"N—no sire." 

"You must think me a fool then. Is that it?" 

"No sire." 

"I remember requesting a virgin, Miltro. Does she look like a virgin to you?" 

"Sire I—" 

"No, I suppose you haven't a clue what a virgin is like, have you? Odd that she should be so early but now I see the reason. You've managed to cock up my request, eh?" 

As the man's berating of Miltro continued, Vyla mentally rolled her eyes. What a disgusting man this noble was. Lusting after virgins yet being too fat and wretched to command any hope of ever attracting one outside of purchase. After a few seconds more, Vyla decided to take command of the situation. 

"Sire please," she butted in over Miltro with a delicate voice that didn't stretch too far from what he had already heard. "I am a virgin, I assure you." 

"Pah." The Neynas waved her off without a seconds pause. "With a figure such as yours? Tell me, whore, how many men have you bedded this week alone?" 

A thin smile crept through Vyla's mind. I'm going to enjoy breaking this one, she thought. "None sire, my mother and father always kept me under close watch. They never let me court any of the boys in our village. But disease took them last year and I cannot survive anymore on what they left me. And being without any skills I—" 

"I didn't ask for you life story," the nobleman said with another tired wave. "Very well, I suppose it shouldn't be so difficult to prove your lies, go inside and wait on the bed." 

"Thankyou sire." Vyla squeezed into the room and dropped herself on the end of the bed which, she noticed at once, smelled far too similar to the man she was about to serve upon it. 

Meanwhile, Miltro had been looking rather pleased that the conversation had steered away from him. His enjoyment of that fact was soon cut short as the Neynas snapped his gaze back to the poor host. "What are you still doing here, hmm? Planning to watch? Begone with you!" 

"Yes si—" 

Miltro vanished behind the door as it slammed shut. The nobleman then turned upon Vyla and regarded her with eyes that held a concoction of lust and suspicion. His gaze fell unashamedly upon the cut of her blouse, for several moments, that Vyla had ensured to keep well-filled through her various changes of appearance. 

"Sire, what do—" 

"Tch, you will refer to me as master," he corrected. 

Oho, this is too rich, Vyla laughed silently. "As you wish s— I mean, master. What shall I do for you?" 

Master pursed his lips and creased his brow. He waved his fingers slightly. "Lift your skirts, then lay on your stomach." 

"Yes master." Vyla obeyed the command without visible pause. Meanwhile her mind whirled with the struggle to not simply slit this man's throat for being such a wretched fool. Doing so would only lead to trouble. There had to be a different way to punish his obvious misunderstandings of sex. It was meant to be a mutual encounter, like a fight to the death. Only the weakest, most twisted individuals found enjoyment in a one-sided battle. 

"Now spread your legs," he instructed once Vyla had assumed the position. 

She did as told and soon felt one hand on the outside of her right thigh, then his other on her left. He truly plans not to prepare me? Vyla wondered. Not that such a thing would be a problem. She could ready herself in seconds should the need arise. But that wasn't nearly as fun. At that stage Vyla finally conceded that any hopes of finding even a fragment of enjoyment out of this session were non-existent. 

Vyla didn't mind, of course. Not if going through this would allow her to move freely through the inn afterwards and bring her a step closer to Telra. 

A ruffle of clothing told her that the master had disrobed and, seconds later, she felt his steely hardness against her entrance. Replicating the sensation of virginity was an easy trick. Vyla had already prepared it. The bigger problem that this session held was the possibility of the real whore showing up halfway through. 

"Hurry master, I think I'm r—" 

With a single thrust, the Neynas plunged himself into Vyla's folds. She felt his waist slap against her rear and she nearly burst into laughter at how deep he had gone. So small. No wonder you crave the inexperienced. 

"Huh, you really are a virgin..." 

"Yes master, please be gentle," Vyla huffed. 

"Shut it, slut," he replied as he drew back. 

What did this man desire? What would get him off quicker? A helpless partner perhaps, or would he rather hold absolute command over the sensations of Vyla's body? 

Master made another dive into her slick pussy, then began a steady rythme to his motion. At first Vyla made a show of discomfort at his forcefulness. But slowly, with patience only a Siren could manage, her gasps that had held pain turned to ones of pleasure. 

"Quit that moaning," he commanded. 

"I— oh... I can't help it mm master. You're so strong, s—so firm." 

"Eh? I'm what?" 

"I've been waiting so long for— ha, this. Parents... so strict. All the other girls telling me about sex. Wanted it so b—badly. Now, at last— oh!" 

The master's weight upon Vyla's back cut her off. He leaned over and pressed down as his clumsy fingers searched for the ties to her bodice. 

Have I awoken some secret desire in you, 'master', Vyla wondered. Perhaps you do care for your lovers. 

Vyla's focus changed momentarily as she concentrated on ensuring that her 'clothing' came away in a believable manner. Immediately Master's hands went to her large, exposed breasts and began groping and pinching to a degree that would have done anything but arouse any other lover. 

The minutes passed with Master pounding her folds that she had tightened considerably. Anything to make him cum sooner. Eventually he lifted Vyla up and, with her help, turned her over. The exact position that she had hoped for. 




Arms of the Ocean Ch. 06



The thrusting continued, this time with Master's head buried to Vyla's chest where he drew a turgid nipple into his mouth and began sucking. Vyla lifted and wrapped her legs around his waist as she let out a groan. 

"Oh! What is happening? My pussy burns with desire, Master." 

Suddenly, going against her plans, he drew out of her slickened chasm. "No, you'll not come yet. Clean off my cock, slut," he commanded. 

Vyla hesitated involuntarily as she sat up. How cruel of this man to deny his virgin the release she seemed to crave. Besides, didn't Shaslings usually consider fellatio to be a form of foreplay? 

"Now, whore!" he ordered again. 

"Yes master." 

Her senses returned, Vyla slid from the bed and knelt before the man's rigid, throbbing member, bathed in a light shine from the juices coating it. The aroma it gave off wasn't entirely pleasant but a quick shuffling of her senses took care of that problem. 

Keeping up the appearance of a virgin, Vyla made a show of curiously grasping the man's dick and examining it with an innocent interest. She lifted it up, gently touched his balls and gave a tentative lick of the head. 

"What are you waiting for? Suck it!" Master ordered. His tone held sternness but a tinge of enjoyment underneath took away the edge. 

Vyla brought the head of Master's cock into her mouth and began running her tongue around the end. She bobbed her head up and down slightly, inching forwards with every pass, all the while sucking with ever-gaining vigor. 

Barely ten seconds had passed before Master's hands found the back of her head and pulled her in closer. Vyla could hear the review that her tonguing brought about. The room had filled with Master's 'ah's and 'mm's and the occasional bit of advice on what next she should do. As if this wretch could hope to surpass Vyla's knowledge on sex. 

"Mmm," Vyla hummed on the Neynas' dick while her tongue tickled his glans. 

"Ooh, stop now," Master commanded. 

Vyla relaxed as the man gingerly removed his cock from her mouth. Another change of pace? Any more and these sudden changes would give her whiplash. 

Master grabbed hold of Vyla's curvaceous hips and guided her back to the edge of the bed. He parted her legs and made it his turn to kneel before her. "Let me taste you," he said as he leaned in. 

This had to be the first time that Master had ever done such a thing,. He didn't so much play his mouth upon her vagina as he did bury his face between her legs. The coarse stubble upon his cheeks and chin didn't help either. Vyla almost felt bad to be reinforcing such poor work as she pretended to enjoy it. The only consolation she took was the opportunity that this position granted when it came to putting an end to things. 

Not once did Master's tongue gravitate towards her clit of its own volition. Most of the time he spent driving deep towards her core. 

"Higher, master. Please," she begged, her voice oozing with lust. 

There, a brief flick of her sensitive, little nub. Vyla released a sharp gasp to let him know that the mark had been hit. To Master's credit, his tongue returned and caressed her clit repeatedly, if a tad on the rough side. 

Perhaps I can enjoy this, Vyla thought to herself with the building of a genuine climax. Her hands involuntarily found her breasts and began to paw at the pendulous mounds of flesh, occasionally moving to tease a nipple. 

"Aah, so close Master. Please don't stop." 

As grace had it, Master complied this time. His tonguing grew in intensity and he even reached up to take over with the tit playing. Vyla could feel the flames reaching their peak. Almost there. A little more. 

"Mmha," she moaned as the wave crashed over her. Vyla's hands dug themselves into Master's sparse hair, her faculties dipping beneath the sea of pleasure that she swam among. A few soft giggles escaped her lips. Then came the time to strike. 

Without dropping her cries of orgasm, for it had not yet waned, Vyla lifted her legs onto Master's shoulders and wrapped them around the back of his head. She pulled him close as if she had merely lost herself in the passion; far too close to be of comfort. A little twist of her hips caused her slickened and supple thighs to clamp down on the blood vessels in Master's neck. Then she merely waited the several seconds it took before Master's thrashes turned to slaps turned to nothing and he went limp. 

Vyla released the man from her vice and he slumped to the floor, alive but unconscious. 

"An average performance at best, 'master'," Vyla said as she lazily stroked her vagina for the remainder of the orgasm. 

Once finished, her eyes moved to Master's crotch and she stifled a laugh. Somehow he had managed to come while being choked. White spurts of his seed had splattered across his exposed chest. 

"I'll never understand you Shaslings," Vyla muttered and turned her attention to more pressing business. Namely, what to do with the man's body. A quick scan of the room revealed the best hiding place to be beneath the bed. After a fair degree of unceremonious pushing, Master's sleeping form lay secure amid the dust and dirt. There he could rest without disturbance until much later when he awoke with only a pounding headache and a bad memory of his precious virgin to keep him warm that night. 

Next, Vyla shifted her body into Master's form. Somewhat tricky given his substantial gut but she managed to pad herself out sufficiently by opting to mimic a simpler set of clothing. 

Vyla found Miltro back at his post outside the barroom when she returned. 

The Chayli man nodded to her. "Everything to satisfaction then, sire?" 

"In the end. I trust that there shall be no further difficulties on future requests," said Vyla in Master's voice. 

"None, sire." 

"And you shall have a chance to prove that to me presently. I noticed a foul odor in the hall outside my room. Find its source, will you, before I lose my lunch to it." 

"A foul odor? I can have one of the maids check for you momentarily." 

Vyla made a show of blowing out through her nose. "Did you not hear me, Miltro? I asked you to do it. I would have thought yourself grateful for such brevity in your chance to make amends." 

"I— of course, sire. I go at once." 

Miltro did as promised, practically flying up the stairway that led to the rooms. 

As soon as Vyla was alone she turned her attention to the book that sat upon Miltro's chest-high table. A record of guests, as she had hoped. The pages held only the bare minimum of information, the rest likely kept elsewhere, but the penultimate name on the current page read Lady Telra of Bladed-Dro. 

You're a long way from home, dearest, Vyla thought as she took note of the room. 

Her objective took her down the right hallway rather than the left once she reached the second floor. The furnishings here were nearly identical, mediocre paintings dispersed between doorways and lamps. 

Telra's room lay only a short way down. Vyla knocked but received no reply. Perfect. She put her hand to the lock and let her body creep inside where it changed to fit the tumblers. With a soft click, the door accepted Vyla and she entered. 

Chests and cases lay around the room. So many places to hide. She moved to the bed and tossed its pillows underneath. Vyla then positioned herself in their place and took their form. 

Soon, she told her rising urge for vengeance. I miss you, Telra, don't keep me waiting. 

=== 

Another minute of this and I'm gonna drop over the side... Ronav groaned to himself. 

For the past hour he had been standing on the tier above Lady Telra like an unseen sentinel. She presently dined at an outdoor restaurant that looked as though it specialized in Taigin cuisine. Plates of vegetable and plant-based dishes occupied every table and the aromas wafting upwards reminded Ronav of how long it had been since he'd eaten. 

Why did this woman have to take so long to eat? Was there some rule in high society dictating that things take far longer than they needed to? At least it kept Lady Telra in a public, well-populated place. Vyla would never try anything here, would she? And perhaps all this delay would give her a chance to cool down and rethink whatever it was that caused this murderous impulse. 

Not likely, Ronav thought. If there's one trait applicable to virtually any breed of predator, it's patience. A dread sensation told him that Vyla would be at peace with waiting a very long time. 

A subtle flicker of movement around the swaying leaves below told Ronav that something new was taking place at the lady's table. Yes, at last they were leaving. She, her captain and three others that Ronav hadn't been able to place since he had first arrived here at the direction of Telra's driver. 

Ronav peeled away from the handrail and journeyed along the boardwalks to a point where he could reach the tier below. 

Please let this go, he silently begged to Vyla, wherever she may be lurking. 

=== 

A click snapped Vyla to attention and her eyes fixed themselves upon the door. The world looked paler when seen through her own flesh that had been stretched thin, whitened and changed in such a way as to resemble the case of a pillow. Had Vyla presently possessed a set of lips, she might have licked them in anticipation. 

At last. Relief flooded through Vyla's body as her prey entered the room. She'd changed outfits but looked as flush and intricately dressed as ever. Mine at last. 

Much as Vyla's instinct dictated otherwise, she couldn't stand to make things quick. This situation called for the same level of intimacy as their previous sessions, albeit in a different vein. 

Once the lady's back was turned, Vyla rippled and pulled together so that she lay sprawled seductively upon the bed. The softest ruffle of the sheets tipped her prey off. 

"Oh! Ka's name," Telra gasped. Her muscles clenched and relaxed again all in an instant and one hand went to her chest. "You scared me half to death." 

"I've been waiting for you," Vyla purred as she slipped from the bed. "You are a naughty girl to keep poor mistress waiting so long." 

Telra's eyes strayed south and her bottom lip gently pinched between her teeth. "Right now?" she whispered, her voice hinting at a building lust. 

"Oh yes." Vyla reached forwards to an anxious lady. Now we begin, she breathed to herself. 

Two hands touched and Vyla froze as she felt something that should not have been there. Something new since she had last brushed the skin of this woman. A sensation that filled her with the utmost dread. 

"No," Vyla whispered. 

Telra's liquid gaze melted away and she smiled. "I suppose this is a case of mistaken identity." 

Time seemed to slow down then. A blur of movement flicked past Vyla's eyes so fast she barely had time to jump at the shock. In a daze, she looked down at her left arm from which there now emanated a searing sting of pain. Rather, where her arm had been. Now it ended above the elbow. The razor-edged weapon that had made it so grew from the shoulder of Lady Telra where too an arm had been. 

Both snapped to action then. Vyla out of her daze and the lady out of her jesting and both sprang away from the other. 

Vyla raised her arms, channeling flesh from all over her body to reform the left in its entirety. So much of her body severed already. Not good. 

A quick glance confirmed that her arm had landed upon the bed. Retrieving it might be a good idea so that it could be reabsorbed and, haste granting, used immediately. 

Meanwhile the other Siren in the room had changed shape mid leap and now stood before Vyla in a far more predatorial form. 

"Zeerae, in case you are wondering," she said as introduction. 

"I wasn't," Vyla lied. Not that such a lie would fool a fellow Siren. 

"You should. You should also wonder which I am." Zeerae opened her mouth wide to bare twin rows of razor-sharp teeth. "Shasteless," she hissed. 

Vyla's heart sank from her chest, for two reasons. First out of fear but second to move it somewhere more secure. Her brain followed as it re-assessed her odds of survival from unknown to slim. 

The Shasteless, anyone but them. They were the land hunters, the most elite branch of the Siren military. This Zeerae showed that nature off in the way she now stood, poised and ready to strike at an instants notice. The arm blade had vanished to be replaced with a lethal set of claws where her hands should have been. Her hair was colored a deep indigo and styled into braids. As Vyla watched them, they stood, pointed towards her and gleamed with tiny knives wrapped in the ends. 

Zeerae wore a turquoise, single-piece suit that stopped at her elbows and knees and had silvery metal plates in places. Sirens couldn't replicate anything so dense as metal. This was real armor. A supremely-equipped assassin tasked to pursue the world's most dangerous prey. 

"What do you want? Why am I being hunted?" Vyla asked. Her gaze flicked to her fallen arm momentarily. A mistake, but she could almost hear the flesh screaming to be restored to its home. 

"You know very well the answers to those." 

"How did you find—" 

"We are done talking." 

Zeerae attacked then with everything she had revealed in her arsenal, plus several things more. She pounced forwards, her hair flicking a barrage of steel ahead as her arms and legs stretched out to rake claws at her prey. 

Vyla turned her forearm to bone, widened it and slapped the knives away as she dodged to one side. Then they were in melee and the air blurred with movement. 

Swords and claws of coral, bone and steel flashed from one to the other. Most attacks hissed harmlessly through the air. The occasional strike that connected did little more than leave cuts upon the skin which closed immediately as the damaged flesh retreated inside to regenerate. 

Their trades were far from fair. For every cut Vyla made she received three in return. A good slice across Zeerae's chest earned two on her forearms. Then a third came searing from the side to cross her neck. Too late to dodge. 

Vyla's shapeshifting muscles clenched together and solidified in a fraction of a second. Zeerae's bladed arm connected with a crunch and lodged in the valley it had carved. 

The force of the blow left Vyla reeling but she retained enough sense to pull her eyes down into her chest. At the same time she changed the shape of her face to mask the relocation. 

"You're slowing," Zeerae whispered. She lifted one leg, planted it against Vyla then kicked backwards as she jerked her arm the rest of the way through her victim's neck. 

Vyla's head came away and spun towards the floor where it rolled several feet before stopping, almost comically, to stare back at them. 

Vyla slipped past Zeerae and dove for her parted pieces of body, even managing to lash out for her fallen arm as she passed by. In one movement she whirled around, grabbed the lamp that rested on one of the bedside tables and hurled it at Zeerae.  

With a crash and a skittering of shattered porcelain the lamp exploded against Zeerae's solidified forearm. 

The assassin placed her hands on her hips. "That's crude of you. And we're making too much noise. The dirt walls of this place may muffle most sound but I imagine someone will hear us soon." 

Vyla could only huff wearily as she took these precious seconds to put everything back in order. Much of the flesh of her reacquired arm and head was damaged and unusable but she took what she could. 

"I'm going to kill you now," said Zeerae. There was no threatening tone to these words or effort at intimidation. She simply stated a fact. The fun of fighting had faded and she now intended to bring things to a close. Nothing more. 

Both arms of the Shasteless bulged and rippled as something moved down from the shoulders. Her skin parted and razor edges of a fine steel rose to fill the gaps. Her arms stretched, filling with this new weapon, until they could hardly be referred to as arms. More accurately, metal-edged whips of flesh. 

Byal ey silpta, Vyla cursed. She recognised a Naylix when she saw one. An extremely effective weapon at battling light or unarmored opponents. Namely, other Sirens. 

Zeerae's attacks came marginally slower now but they reached halfway across the room. Vorpal ribbons lashed relentlessly at Vyla, shearing through the air wherever she dared to move. 

It only took a few seconds from the beginning of the barrage for the end to arrive. Zeerae's right arm drew back and harpooned towards Vyla as the left kept her pinned in a corner. With nowhere to flee, Vyla could do nothing but move her heart and brain out of the way a fraction of a second before Zeerae speared her in the abdomen. 

Vyla knew what happened next, she had seen fights like these in the arenas back home. Zeerae pulled her weapon back, having widened it at the end, and ripped her victim in half. 

The floor came up quickly but Vyla made no effort to brace against the fall. Nothing mattered anymore. Fighting back had become a distant dream. So much damage to her body had meant any shapeshifting would be sluggish and less than impressive at best. She could only watch as Zeerae moved in. 

"Quyl cur zeer kovotrae?" she asked. Where are your vitals? 

Though it took considerable effort, Vyla parted the flesh of her chest to expose her brain and heart together. 

"Yech, put those away. I only ask so I know where not to cut." 

"Wha—Ksh!" Vyla hissed. 

Zeerae's work began, one arm returned to a blade of bone. Her skill at separating flesh shone through as she severed Vyla's limbs one by one with a single blow to each. She then placed them aside in a pile before stabbing them over and over until little remained of their original form. "I can't have you changing shape in transit." 

Vyla understood immediately. Zeerae had damaged Vyla's flesh so severely that even when reunited with it she could do little more than slap helplessly at the walls of her prison. Well, that would do it. 

Zeerae brought over one of the trunks, opened it and emptied its contents. She then dumped Vyla's ravaged limbs inside, followed by Vyla herself. 

Secured in place, the lid closed overhead with a thunk and a click of the latches. Vyla drew her poor, tormented flesh back in and silently cursed the damage. It would take days of rest for her to regenerate fully. At the moment, even if she could stand upright and take a humanoid form, her skin would have an unnatural give to it. Like a water-filled bag, truly the essence of it, as the wounds of her body could manage nothing more than liquid. 

"What now?" Vyla asked through the muffling confines of the case. 

"I bring you somewhere secure. Then we talk." 

A flash of fear chilled her body. Sirens were not known for their heart to heart talks. The Shasteless far more so. This would be a talk for a dungeon, not a parlor, with tools of torture ready and eager.



Arms of the Ocean Ch. 07



The Gilded Bough read a manicured board above the inn's neatly-groomed entrance. An odd name, Ronav decided, given that this place embedded itself in the hillside rather than sitting among the trees. 

Lady Telra and her entourage had entered fifteen minutes ago and that time since had seen Ronav growing more and more well-acquainted with the outside of the building. He hadn't yet mustered the courage to venture in, if he even could. These upper class venues typically turned away his type. 

Thus far there'd been no outbursts that he could hear. Nor had a swarm of the town guard yet converged on the location. Always a good sign. In fact, there'd been little traffic in and out of the inn beyond the occasional tenant, a woman who entered, only to exit a minute later, and a Taigin man who'd left with a large chest upon his back.

Ronav leaned deeper against the trunk of the tree around which this tier's boardwalk had been built. You can't keep this up, the voice of reason stated. True words. After all, how did this proceed? Did he truly plan to wait out here until Lady Telra reemerged? That time could easily be tomorrow morning. Besides, in a battle of patience, Ronav suspected that Vyla would win by a landslide.

If this turns out to have been a joke... Ronav groaned and rose to his feet. His stomach growled in response. The thought of putting off food any longer caused his guts to wrench. He glanced at the inn and its vine-curtained windows a final time. Telra would be safe for now, she had Kano and another guard in there with her.

Ronav slipped away from his tree and moved east along the boardwalk, a path that would take him to the opposite side of town from the one that they had entered. Perhaps if he was far enough away when Telra died, if she died, the blame would skip over his head.

Hunger also drove Ronav in that direction. The desire to sate his stomach through foraging, more accurately. Ripples on the Water had never held many opportunities to partake in the Taigin pastime of foraging. The woods around the sea were raw and toughened from the salty air. This flora looked far more lush.

Shadetree Fold, mostly built up and inwards, wasn't particularly long. After a reasonable walk through a dug-out market and, soon after, a stack of residential lofts built high in the trees, Ronav reached an abrupt end to civilization and found himself at the stark line that marked the forest's meeting with the town.

For nearly a minute Ronav stood still and stared ahead. The road here ran surprisingly straight for a long way before making a sharp turn. Such was the distance that it almost looked as if the woods had crept out onto the stones and sat down, reclaiming the land as theirs. He might have believed such a thing, too, were it not for a wagon turning into view that instant.

Ronav trudged off the beaten path and pushed his way past the fans of foliage that grew in his way. Ivy and bracken climbed the trees en masse. Some of the dark green tangles even bore suspiciously bright berries but Ronav knew better. His mother and father had once spent hours teaching him which of the forest's bounty would poison.

After several minutes of walking, Ronav spied a fruit-laden branch hanging low enough to reach. The egg shapes, coated in a pale, speckled brown, told him that these were Vills.

With a sigh, Ronav reached for several of the fist-sized fruits. Ordinarily it wouldn't be his first choice, given the gritty texture, but they would do.

A relatively comfortable-looking stone proved a sufficient seat. Barely a minute had passed, filled with chewing through the sweet and grainy flesh of the Vills, before a hiss of leaves overhead caught Ronav's attention. Somehow, before looking, he knew the sight that would greet him. That rustling sounded strikingly familiar. The forewarning of a lone, shy sentinel.

"Yis," Ronav said as he stared up at her curious face.

===

The air here stank and, almost amusingly, Vyla decided that she would prefer the company of Master if it meant being quit of her current situation. She blocked off her nose and looked to the turned back of her captor.

"Remind me of what this place is called," Vyla said in Siren.

Zeerae had her attention presently occupied by a table of implements yet she answered immediately in the same tongue. "A sewer."

"It is disgusting. What is it for?"

"The waste of Shaslings."

Vyla retched. "But this space, how much can they produce!?" Her voice echoed between the heavy stones of the room. Twelve paces wall to wall, she guessed. A channel of water ran to one side, disappearing, at both ends, into a tall, wide tunnel. The door they had entered through stood in the wall opposite.

"Not all of it is used for that. They need space to move when repairs must be made and locations to store things. That was once the purpose of this place."

Vyla drank this knowledge in. She'd considered herself quite learned about the important facets of Shasling society but this marked a side she hadn't seen. "And we won't be intruded upon here?"

"The Shasteless have operated sewage in the Fold for many years. It is convenient."

Good, Vyla thought, at peace with the fact that no Shaslings would come crashing in to witness her torture.

"But perhaps you needn't torture me, I think," said Vyla as her captor turned around.

"Why is that?" Zeerae asked. She approached her prisoner slowly, hands empty. Whatever she had been doing at the table had been left there or taken into her body.

"It is tedious and I feel cooperative."

Those words did nothing to slow Zeerae's approach and Vyla shifted a little in the large wooden tub in which she lay curled up but intact.

"You seem to be under the impression that I torture for some ulterior purpose, Tomateless. Have you not considered that I merely wish to cause you the utmost pain?" Zeerae cocked her head in some twisted display of innocence.

Vyla exhaled wearily. "Yes, I had considered that."

"Good, then let us begin."

Zeerae's hands and fingers coated themselves in a boney carapace and she reached into the tub. Vyla made no effort to escape as the pointed tips touched then pierced her body with an agonizing slowness. So much of her flesh remained damaged beyond use. Had it not been for Zeerae's hands blocking the openings she had made, Vyla's body would have leaked like a hole-riddled bucket.

As the seconds passed with Zeera's arms sinking deeper in, Vyla kept expecting an explosion of needles and pain. When still none came, she finally realized her captor's intent. "No, not—"

"What else?" Zeerae asked with a faint hint of amusement.

What followed followed quickly. Zeerae's hands lunged forwards a short way, grabbed hold of their prize then yanked back and exited Vyla's body.

A silent darkness swept over Vyla the second her brain was dislocated from her faculties. Time seemed to slow to a crawl. She could no longer see, hear, taste, touch or smell. Absolute nothingness. Sindrakovo, the most horrific of deaths. Vyla could almost feel her distant heart screaming for instructions from an organ that had been taken away.

A strange sensation began to wash over Vyla. It felt as if she were swimming in the ocean. Pleasant, at first, for she had not done so in over a day. But the water rose steadily and she somehow found herself unable to keep above it. The water choked once it rose beyond Vyla's head. She should have been able to breath but instead the salty liquid acted as some spongy, infinite, wall against air.

Just as the choking grew overwhelming, a feeling akin to being squeezed through a space too tight washed over Vyla's body and her senses exploded back into existence. Everything cried to her but she had time for one thing only. What had Zeerae done with her brain?

Vyla found her eyes and soon saw a long rope of her flesh rising from her body to connect with her brain, still grasped by the other Siren. It felt strange to stare at herself from eyes so distant.

"Three seconds, if you were wondering," Zeerae said in her disinterested tone. "Would you like to find how four feels?"

"Either kill me or don't."

"Why did you come to land?" Zeerae asked as she gingerly shifted her captive's brain from hand to hand. "What business has a Tomateless here?"

"So you do have—" Blackness again, accompanied by the screaming of phantom senses. Vyla found herself once more floundering in a sea of infinite dark until the light came flooding back in.

"Only one second that time. I suggest you answer. They say that six at once is where the damage becomes irreparable."

Vyla's chest rose and fell with a single, tired breath. She flinched when Zeerae's hand suddenly tensed around the cord of flesh that held herself to her body. "Wait! There is much to say," Vyla groaned.

"Then speak quickly."

"I am weary of the sea and bored of the Tomateless. I came to land seeking adventure."

Zeerae's left eyebrow slowly rose. Her hand then tensed upon the link and Vyla once more fell into the void.

The eternity spent in emptiness somehow felt longer this time. The ocean rose far overhead by the time Vyla found herself swept back into reality.

"Four that time. Do not lie to me."

"I swear that is the reason!" Vyla screamed above the screams of her body.

"Not all of it. You've left a piece out."

"No mistress, I would never..." Vyla begged, struggling not to hiss the word that marked herself as submissive.

"Lying again." 

Zeerae's fingers clenched and Vyla braced for another descent into the nightmarish emptiness. But this time Zeerae relaxed again and released the rope of flesh entirely.

"In truth, I do not care what your reason is."

"But—"

"Hush! You are not the first to try and sneak somewhere you do not belong. The Shasteless allow it as to do otherwise would only cause greater divide between our branches and the rest of Sirenkind. But every so often there comes a sister who makes a too-tall wave upon the land. You know of what I speak." Zeerae delicately tossed Vyla's back onto her body where it sank into place and closed over immediately. Safe at last in her home of flesh.

"Lady Telra," Vyla replied once she had finished relishing the return to her body.

"You will not kill her."

"Why not? She is as worthless as any other Shasling," Vyla hissed at the thought of that woman. No doubt even now she relaxed somewhere, oblivious to the terrors and discomforts that she had caused in Vyla.

"True indeed. Had all of this played out a year or more earlier and I would not have wasted my time stopping you. But Lady Telra has become useful to us in other ways and too significant to disappear without repercussion."

"What could the Shasteless want with her?"

"That is our business!" Zeerae snarled. "You will obey me or you will die here and seep back to the ocean through these rank sewers."

"Then you will have to kill me." Vyla closed her eyes, bit her lips and waited.

Several moments later, Zeerae spoke. "You did not plan to kill the Lady until sometime after you had left Ripples on the Water. What changed?"

"You were following me then?"

"Ever since you made that display upon the docks."

"Then you should know what changed."

"Let me guess, she insulted your mother? No? Perhaps she spoke out of turn or, queen forbid, failed to make you come," said Zeerae, her tone layered with mockery.

"She saw me skinless!" Vyla hissed. Admission of the fact didn't matter now if the only paths from here were death or death to Telra. After all the humiliation, she hoped for the former.

"Is that it?" Zeerae asked after a pause.

"What do you mean? She saw the weakness within me. That I am nothing more than a vile puddle of ooze who masquerades as a predator."

"Ah, so the sisters continue to believe that ridiculousness."

Vyla narrowed her eyes. What new game was this? Did Zeerae, a member of the Shasteless, really mean to imply that being seen skinless wasn't so bad? Impossible, yet there seemed no other explanation.

"Relax yourself, Vyla," said Zeerae as her claws were replaced with ordinary hands and she knelt by the tub. "Let me enlighten you to the learnings that we Shasteless receive on land. You were skinless as you slept, yes? All things must sleep. It is a weakness that passes over none."

"But not all turn to liquid and expose their hearts to the world," Vyla shot back.

"Pah, do you think it is any harder to drive a blade through the heart of a Shasling than it is a Siren? Theirs are always in the same place. So predictable. This is not weakness, despite what your sisters may say."

"It is still ugly," Vyla replied, far from convinced. "You expect me to follow these ideas so readily? You're as bad—"

"I except nothing yet," said Zeera calmly.

A deep silence fell upon the two predators as both stared at one another. Zeerae broke the tension by standing and moving away. Her body then began to ripple and, in a flash, she melted down into a puddle. A pale, semi-transparent, skinless puddle with no features save a brain and a heart floating within.

"If I am truly as weak in this state as you say," Zeerae began with an unseen mouth. "You must kill me for showing it. That is what the law still says, correct?"

Vyla watched the puddle of Zeerae, stunned that she would do such a thing. A moment more and she rose out of the wooden tub. Her legs felt weary and she struggled not to buckle beneath the weight they so flimsily supported. 

The damage that Vyla's body had incurred made things difficult yet she managed to grow her right arm into a bone sword. She drew back and aimed for the large, red muscle of Zeerae's heart.

Just as Vyla was about to plunge her blade forwards, part of Zeerae's body shot out like a spear, quick as a gale-force blast of wind, and pierced Vyla through the stomach. Fast as that had happened, Zeerae pulled back and slipped away on the momentum that her withdrawal brought. She reformed, near instantly, a short distance back.

"Kssh," Vyla snarled with razor-teeth born. Some of her damaged flesh, still helplessly in a liquid state, had spilled to the floor before the wound had closed up. She stepped forwards and drew the tiny pool of her parted body back in.

Zeerae's preemptive riposte had been expected. No Shasteless would offer their life upon a platter. But what could Vyla do in such a position if not play along?

"So we see that it is only sleep which brings weakness, not the form itself," said Zeerae as she absently twiddled with a bit of cloth making up her 'clothes'.

"If I weren't so injured—"

"I still would not have let you."

Vyla huffed, her wounds made it difficult to move air around her body. With such feeble movements that a blind eye might mistaken her as ancient, she lowered herself down and slumped back into the wooden tub. Perhaps it was the lesson she had just learned, or merely the damage Zeerae had inflicted moments ago, but Vyla found it too much effort to maintain her humanoid form. She let her muscles relax a little and the lower half of her body liquefied such that she appeared to sit, waist deep, in a pool of her own flesh.

"It is still wretched to be seen skinless," said Vyla, as much to herself as to the other Siren present. She ensured that the liquid parts of her body maintained a skin-like coloration. No transparency or her organs might show.

"You are as stubborn as I was. Believe me, Vyla, there are greater concerns on land than appearing as a puddle."

===

Ronav massaged his forehead and cursed silently to himself. They weren't quite getting nowhere, he had to admit. Unfortunately, the direction that he and Yis were traveling didn't feel like the right one and they were heading there at an agonizing pace.

Ronav raised his eyes to see Yis' own, flooded with concern, as they stared back.

"Quol su sa?" Yis said in a questioning tone.

Quol. Their chatter had brought Ronav to believe that 'quol' might mean something like 'what'. Possibly. Whatever else Yis had just said remained a mystery.

"Nothing," Ronav replied for wont of a better response.

Yis cocked her head at him and several tangles of her dirty hair rolled off her shoulder to brush the ground upon which she knelt. Ronav returned his attention to the rough, damp earth before them. Thus far, with the aid of several pictures he had carved into the dark grittiness, Ronav had managed to convey that a Siren, Vyla, planned to kill someone and he needed to stop her. Yis had sounded quite happy about this as soon as understanding had reached her. She had to have thought that he and the Siren were friends but now they had become enemies. Ronav couldn't think of a way to enlighten Yis as to the greater complexities of his and Vyla's relationship so he didn't bother with any corrections.

This brought Ronav to the latest drawing. Two hills and a series of squares and triangles meant to represent buildings. Shadetree Fold, in simpler terms. Yis appeared to understand that much. Their problem arose in Ronav trying to explain that they needed to go there and stop Vyla without killing her and without alerting everyone in town to the fact that he and the Siren were in league with one another.

Why am I even bothering, Ronav wondered. As though he had any hope of crossing this language barrier on such a complicated notion. That left one alternative, go back home.

Ronav looked skywards. Yis followed his gaze but he ignored her as he considered the possibility of fleeing the scene. If he did return to Ripples on the Water right this instant, the guards around here would probably never link him to Telra's death. He could make a clean getaway before the crime even happened. Go back to fishing and mundanity.

And an angry Siren, Ronav added. Vyla, predator that she was, might avoid capture and come looking. She wouldn't be mad at his abandonment, would she? Did it even matter?

"What am I doing, Yis?" Ronav asked the curious Chayli.

"Quol?" she replied, cocking her head again.

After all that had happened in this relatively short span of time, it felt somehow strange or boring or wasteful to go back to his old life.

"C'mon," said Ronav as he stood and swiped a foot across the dirt drawings. He held his hand out to Yis who took it and rose beside him.

"Cur av gyow?" Yis asked as she lifted her arms and pointed towards the sky.

Ronav looked up but couldn't see anything. "Uhh, yes." He nodded.

"Teb."

To Ronav's surprise, Yis stepped behind him and flung her arms around his body, managing to reach a bit beneath his shoulders. Before Ronav could recover enough to utter a word of protest, a crackling blast of air sounded from the blades on Yis' back.

Oh no... Ronav cringed. They were going to fly. Yis planned to carry him somewhere on her wing blades, the knife-like chitinous and blackened appendages that jutted from the backs of all Chayli.

"Yis, don't! I'm too— Gahaaa!" Ronav clamped his eyes shut, his last sight being the forest falling away beneath them. Only when he felt certain that a crash wasn't in their immediate future did he dare to open his eyes.

They were flying. In the sky. Not a struggling half-hover but actual flight. Yis had her arms and legs entwined with his own as she carried him beneath her. Astounding, given her size, but perhaps her wings of wind bore most of the weight.

The speckled greens, browns and oranges of the forest below stretched out further than Ronav had ever seen. A wide carpet of foliage that swayed back and forth in the wind as though cheering their triumphant ascension.

Between them and the horizon Ronav spotted the far-taller branches and glimpses of civilization that hinted at Shadetree Fold. The chill wind quickly saw Ronav's eyes watering up. He hoped Yis had somehow avoided being similarly afflicted or how would she be able to see?




Arms of the Ocean Ch. 07



As if in tune with Ronav's thoughts, the wind's battering tapered off a little with Yis slowing down. The surging flight turned instead to a gentle glide through the sky. The sun, with nothing to take the edge from its rays, soon undid the wind's cold.

Only once the initial highs and discomforts of his first flight had worn off did Ronav realize just how close he was to Yis. The way she had his arms and legs so closely wrapped in her own meant that he could feel every inch and contour of her body upon his back. The proximity didn't help to remind that, despite her childlike innocence and the narrow, slim frame all Chayli possessed, she was undeniably a grown woman.

Ronav forced those thoughts from his mind. Vyla was trouble enough, he didn't need more. And the fact that Yis spoke Siren would make her trouble.

The descent through the treetops of town earned Ronav more than a few scratches but Yis seemed to be trying her best to ensure a safe landing. Either by coincidence or planning they had managed to land in a quieter part of town that looked to be a residential rise. The boardwalk here had been built narrow, barely room for two people to pass one another.

Ronav tried to step away from his companion but he found her arms still wrapped across his chest. He waited a moment before taking her hands in his and pulling them away. 

A curious, wide-eyed Yis greeted Ronav as he turned around. She stared at him with a tinge of fear present in her features. A wild girl who must not have been so near to civilization for years.

"It's okay," Ronav reassured her and he placed a hand upon her shoulder.

"Quol?" she replied.

Ronav cringed. He'd hoped that the daunting nature of the town would encourage Yis to keep silent but, unless she only spoke here knowing that they were alone, he may have been wrong. "Yis, shh," said Ronav, one finger on his lips.

Yis mimicked the gesture but her frown betrayed her lack of understanding.

Perfect, Ronav thought. Yis clearly didn't find it odd or problematic that she should be speaking Siren. "Yis, don't talk. See? Shh..." Ronav pointed to his mouth, clamped it closed and covered it with one hand. She had to understand some of that.

Yis tilted her head and regarded Ronav with her usual curiosity. "Quol?" she asked after a few seconds.

Ronav's shoulders sagged. As soon as he found Vyla, if he found Vyla, they needed to have a nice, long talk that involved him learning the basics of the Siren language.

===

"Where are you going?" Vyla asked.

Zeerae had been moving about the dungeon of a room for nearly a minute now, gathering things, moving things, occasionally pausing to consider some things. "I must fetch your accomplice."

"Why?" Vyla shifted forwards in the wooden tub that had come to serve more as an infirmary bed this past hour.

"Didn't you tell him of your plan? He was pursuing you, when last I saw. Sitting outside The Gilded Bough."

She truly has been observant, Vyla noted. "But what does that matter?" With all her injuries she didn't feel much like thinking too deeply.

"We can't have him stirring rumors of Lady Telra's life being in jeopardy. At any rate, I should imagine he is wondering where you are." Without another word, Zeerae's body rippled into the form of a Neynas woman clad in a tan shirt and trousers. A worker like the hundreds of others in the fold.

Dressed appropriately Zeerae then slipped out the door to the sewer room and closed it with a gentle thud. The click of tumblers sliding into place soon followed but the sound didn't faze Vyla. Locks couldn't stop a Siren. Zeerae meant to keep others out.

Then we are someplace that a passerby might happen upon, Vyla noted, though she doubted that such a piece of information might become relevant. She had no plans of escaping for she had no need.

===

Once again Ronav found himself thanking fate that the Chayli living in Shadetree Fold these days vastly outnumbered the other races combined. He doubted that Yis would have been managing things quite so well if the boardwalks had held a more reasonable amount of foot traffic for this sized city.

"Down here," Ronav half-whispered to Yis as he led her by hand on their descent towards the riverside. His words continued to be met with a confused, almost-anxious glance; Ronav imagined that it might look odd to others if a couple walked past hand in hand yet totally silent.

"Sa'u pajae uuse," Yis remarked at such a volume that only her companion would hear. She then looked at Ronav, flashed a smile, lifted one hand to her ear and buzzed loudly through her lips.

The sound, Ronav realized, was reminiscent of the constant droning of wind that roared overhead from all the Chayli flying around. Noisy, that had to be the thought that Yis was trying to convey.

"Yes," Ronav agreed and nodded in the hopes that doing so might better illustrate the fact.

"Teb," said Yis, her voice cheerful. She smiled again then looked ahead. 

Barely a second had passed before Yis jumped and released a soft yelp. Ronav followed the girl's gaze to the object of her fears as his heart started in shock.

A carriage, nothing more. It had just come into view and lumbered along behind the horses drawing it. Yis' eyes trailed the mammoth object.

Ronav stayed beside the woman with the childlike curiosity, acutely aware that she had grabbed hold of him in her fright and now clutched close. Only once the carriage had passed by did Yis glance at Ronav and shy away.

"Gyys," she squeaked.

What's your story, Ronav wondered.

Lady Telra's carriage stood where it had been when Ronav had left the riverside last. Several of her entourage watched over it. Ronav eyed the vehicle from afar, as did Yis who didn't seem quite so nervous with it currently motionless.

There'd been no success at The Gilded Bough. Perhaps Vyla lay in wait here instead. At any rate, Telra's guards could be informed of the situation. Part of it.

"Yis?"

She took a few seconds to tear her eyes away from another carriage that they had wandered to, now approaching down the road. Still a ways off yet. "Teb?" she asked when she finally looked his way.

"Wait here." Ronav pointed to her then to the ground beneath them. Soft, murky ground, filled with river water.

A moment passed before Yis' eyes widened and she shook her head. "Lu, Lu." She pointed down the road to the oncoming carriage.

"Fly then." Ronav flew his fingers through the air with a wooshing noise then pointed to the canopy.

"Ahh, teb." Yis nodded and she immediately jetted skywards to vanish among the trees above.

Ronav shook his head as he crossed the trader's stop towards Telra's carriage. The guards there came alert briefly but relaxed when they recognised him.

"Looking for your employer?" asked Altis, the Taigin from the campfire the night before.

"She's not here?"

Altis shook his head. "Not since the two of you left earlier. Why, what's gotten you and she separated?"

"She, uh... sent me off on an errand. I came back and she'd gone someplace." Part of Ronav felt concerned over how easily that story had arranged itself in his mind. Almost as if Vyla's abilities were rubbing off on him. "Where's Lady Telra?"

Altis' eyes narrowed. "What concern's that of yours?"

The rest of the guards present had been visibly absent-minded about the exchange but mention of their charge perked them up.

Tinheads, Ronav sighed. "I figure she and Vyla might be off together someplace."

"Last I heard she was headed to some fancy Taigin spot."

"I checked there already."

Altis shrugged, heralding the end discussions. That was that. No other questions, no other clues. No reason to talk anymore.

Ronav shuffled back across the cobble-work to where he had been standing with Yis. He looked skywards. Nothing to see up there save branches and leaves.

"Ronav," came the girl's voice, followed by a rustling as Yis crashed out of the undergrowth that lined the road between rises to the tiers above. She grabbed his hand and began pulling him along. "Gybat," she said with urgency.

Okay, Ronav thought as he let himself be led along. Off we go.

===

Yis turned the bright-red object over in her hands. It felt strange, almost like fur but much smoother, thinner and with an unnatural texture. Whatever it was, she felt certain it couldn't be eaten. She tossed the scrap away, frustrated that it had enticed her through the trees only to betray. 

The treetops practically parted for Yis as she darted through them towards the place she had left Ronav. A lifetime spent in the trees had conditioned her to moving among them with perfect precision, not counting that little mishap earlier. But that wasn't her fault. She'd been ambushed.

Part of Yis still felt rather nervous to be in this place with so many people about. More people than she had ever seen in her solitary life. But she found trust in Ronav and his presence made her feel safe. Maybe she might explore this nest of her forgotten fellows by herself sometime. Yis couldn't quite remember why she hadn't done that before.

At the branches above the spot that Ronav had left her, Yis found a perch and peered down through the leaves. No sign of her friend. Over by the big, brown, circle-legged, square animals? Not there either.

Yis left her branch and hovered on a faint breeze through the canopy. Her eyes scanned the ground below in a hawk-like search for her friend.

"Ahh," she remarked as she spied him walking up towards the pathways along the hill. Then Yis' blood turned to ice and her heart nearly leapt up her throat as she realized with whom Ronav walked.

Herself. The brown, tangled hair and fur clothes, that she had put so much work into making, with wing-blades sticking through. There could be no question that a duplicate of herself walked down there next to Ronav.

"Siren," Yis breathed, her heart racing. The one she and Ronav were after? She couldn't tell. At any rate, Ronav stood next to the most dangerous thing Yis could imagine.

Without thinking, Yis launched herself from the branch. Then she did think and she landed again. Sirens were dangerous. Too dangerous. With claws that cut flesh into little ribbons of meat and teeth to rip guts apart. Spines and quills that exploded in skewering bursts, speed and agility matched by none. Rippling armor to stop all but the most devastating of attacks. No, Yis knew she couldn't fight a Siren. But neither could she let Ronav be eaten by one. 

===

"Through here?" Ronav asked. The 'here' referred to an iron-plated door that sat on a heavy set of hinges in one of the many entrances to the hillside. Not the most welcoming of places. It didn't look like any sort of store or business, nor like a place where Telra might go. Then again, it was Vyla they were after.

Yis nodded from where she stood several steps back. Still timid about Shadetree Fold, Vyla and a myriad of other things, Ronav imagined.

The door had a lock but it hadn't been used and Ronav managed to push through without trouble. The hinges whined as they carried their burden inwards, revealing a dank, stone stairway that led down into the hill. He could spy a faint light at the bottom. An oil lamp that neared exhaustion.

Ronav stepped inside and Yis followed, her eyes darting about.

At the bottom of the stairway Ronav could see something in the gloom. Something he couldn't quite make out. His eyes hadn't fully adjusted yet but there looked to be a faint, metallic glimmer in the dark.

"Ronav?"

He turned to face an apprehensive Yis. She swung the door shut behind them then placed a hand upon his shoulder.

"Taigin are supposed to be strong, right?" she asked.

If not for the hand providing a degree of support, Ronav might have collapsed then. As it was his mind still lurched. Had he misheard? Impossible, Yis had spoken in common.

"Vyla?" he asked.

Yis smiled. A cold smile. "Not quite." Her body began to ripple as fur clothes and dirty hair melted away to be replaced with steel plates, rich leather and a smooth curtain of ocean indigo.

"Your kind are strong," the Siren stated.

"I— we are," Ronav replied. His thoughts struggled to keep up. A new Siren? This could always be another game of Vyla's.

"In that case, let us have a battle of strength." The Siren's body began to change again. Where once there had been skin and leather between the plates of metal, a dark, chitinous armor surfaced. Her entire body slowly encased itself in this thick, black skin, still dotted by the silver of steel. "If you value life, you will want to stay clear of the bottom step."

Ronav glanced at the stairway behind him. His eyes having adjusted sufficiently, he could now see in cruel clarity the fate that awaited. Where once there might have been an ordinary stone floor, instead there stood rows upon rows of short, polished spears embedded in the rock.

"Let us begin," said the Siren. The plates of the black shell-like armor surrounding her mouth screeched together as she spoke. Impostor Yis then placed both hands on Ronav's shoulders and began pushing.

Ronav had little choice but to copy his attacker. He shoved back with all the strength that his race granted. The firm, dense, muscles in his arms and legs bulged and he managed to resist the force pushing against him.

"Who are you?" he grunted.

"Quite strong indeed," the Sired said, ignoring him. "How about this?"

A crunching echoed from the floor around the Siren's feet. Ronav's eyes flashed there and back, just catching a glimpse of several spines growing out and bracing against the steps. With far greater purchase, and the advantage of pushing from above, the odds steadily slipped out of Ronav's favor.

To keep from losing balance he took a step backwards, then another and several more. "Stop!" Ronav cried. How many steps left until the spears? No more than ten, he felt certain. "What do you want?"

"Be stronger, Taigin. Come, I am water and you are stone. Do not let me shear you as the sea shears the land."

The screeching of the Siren's armor as she spoke did little to calm Ronav or make it easier to think. He couldn't win a battle of strength in these conditions. This creature had every advantage. He needed strategy, finesse.

"Almost there, Taigin. Six more steps."

Fed by desperation, Ronav realized what he had to do. Five steps now... Four... Three... 

"Graaah!" Ronav cried. He immediately stopped pushing back against the Siren as he dropped down. The sudden lack of resistance caused her to fall forwards a short way but she recovered quickly. Ronav didn't pause in his movement. He grabbed the Siren by the body, drew on her momentum and flipped her overhead towards the spears.

"Kssh," the Siren hissed. Her armor melted away in an instant, mid flight, and she slipped from Ronav's hands. With the agility of water she landed on her feet, flesh and clothed again, between the spears.

"You had me worried, Ronav," said the Siren as she stepped out from the bed of spikes to stand by the door beyond.

"Who are you? Where's Yis?"

"Your winged friend is fine. She is outside right now, I should think. As for who I am, you may call me Zeerae. I am a friend of Vyla's."

In the dim light of the dying oil lamp, Zeerae looked like no friend. Her armor, posture and indigo hair, glinting with metal in places, said that she was a warrior. 

Ronav folded his arms. "You're lying."

"Step through here if you don't believe me." Zeerae pulled the door open and entered, leaving it ajar behind her.

Ronav looked at the spikes then made a short jump over them. 

The room he came into stank of sewage and a faint hush of water filled the air, punctuated by the occasional, reverberating drip. A empty dungeon save for a table on one side, a wooden tub on the other and a water channel running opposite him.

The tub was where Ronav's attention lingered. Even in the gloom he could see her sitting in it, looking at him.

"Ronav," she greeted.

"Vyla, what's happening here? Who's this?" Ronav asked as he approached his friend. "And— what happened to you?!"

Her body looked as if it was slowly melting away below the waist. Vyla's expression turned to distaste and she cringed as her liquid flesh slowly pulled together to form a set of legs. Ronav looked away as he waited for her to form clothing and cover her nakedness.

"Does my body make you uncomfortable, sye?" Vyla asked.

Ronav looked back and found the Siren still bare. "No, I mean—"

"You seem to have enjoyed it in the past."

Zeerae snickered softly at those words and Ronav felt his skin flushing at the mention of such private things.

Vyla continued unrelenting. "You must forgive me for not covering up, sye, but I don't feel my best at the present."

"Alright, what's happening here? What is all this?" Ronav asked. It felt as if he might suddenly become the punchline to some elaborate joke, if he hadn't already.

"She's been critically injured," Zeerae explained. "It will be another day at the latest before she can move around properly. And several more after before she heals to normal."

"What?! Who did this to you?"

"She did." Vyla pointed to the other Siren present.

Ronav turned his gaze upon Zeerae, a new level of dislike surfacing and rising to the realm of hatred. "Why?"

Zeerae met his stare with her own icy eyes. "Ordinarily that would be Siren business. But, given the circumstances, I will endeavor to make you understand..."

Zeerae went on to explain everything. The Shasteless, the events at The Gilded Bough, her pursuit of Vyla from the beginning. Even the Siren protection that Lady Telra unknowingly possessed, though the reason for it never surfaced.

"Which is why Vyla's hunt has come to an end," Zeerae finished as she turned to the Siren in question as though daring her to say otherwise.

"Yes... it has," Vyla agreed through gritted teeth.

"Okay..." said Ronav. His thoughts swam with all this new information as he tried to determine whether or not he might still be in danger. "Okay, but did you really have to hurt Vyla so much?"

"Yes," the Sirens said in unison.

A crash suddenly echoed around the stone walls. Joining the soft trickle of water came a loud rush of wind. Then, with a second crash, Yis screamed into the room. The Chayli girl blew from wall to wall, swinging a branch back and forth as she yelled and shouted.

"I see your friend has found the courage to confront me," Zeerae remarked.

Despite the show, Yis didn't seem to be making much progress towards the side of the room on which the three of them waited.

"Yis is her name?" Zeerae asked.

Ronav nodded.

"Yis, reta atri sharivega!" Zeerae shouted to the girl.

"Stop this foolishness," Vyla translated as Ronav glanced to her.

Across the room, Yis' flying came to a halt. She hovered in place and brandished her makeshift weapon. "Meeyre sye ros," she replied. Let him go.

"Sye su'us la naritch." He isn't a prisoner.

Yis landed by the table and lowered her branch a short way. "Zee'ur renvis." You're lying.

Zeerae turned to Ronav. "Leave, if you wish."

All eyes were on him now. This back and forth in their own tongue had been strange enough, now he had to explain to this girl that the Sirens he was with were safe?

If someone had told me a couple of days ago that I'd be here now, I'd have called the guards on them, Ronav silently laughed to himself as he crossed the room towards Yis. He took her hands in his. "These Sirens won't hurt me. We're safe."

Once again Vyla took the role of translator. "Atrii Sireni ch'us pare ey. Av'ur artoma."

Yis shook her head. "Lu." No.

"Trust me," Ronav pleaded. Jalt ey.

Yis pulled her hands from Ronav's grip. She then stomped over to the door, sat down beside it and glared at him. "Quar zee'ur opas xavis shari, av ch ros." When you're done being stupid, we can leave.




Arms of the Ocean Ch. 07



Ronav looked at Yis a little longer, pained that she saw him as betraying her trust. She would come round, she had to.

The Sirens were watching him as he returned his attention to them. Their eyes held a vague degree of curiosity while still managing to appear cold and predatorial. 

"What now, Sye?" Vyla asked.

Ronav drifted his gaze to her still-nude form and he felt the familiar longing that had emerged during their first hours together. But there could be no time for such things at the moment. Vyla's injuries were still severe and they had plans to make. So much to think and talk about.

A loud rumble sounded from Ronav's stomach as if to break the silence. With the first chance at calm in over an hour, he finally caught up with how hungry he still was. Yis' interruption had put the earlier break for lunch on hold. "I don't know about the rest of you, but I'm starving."

A smile stretched across Zeerae's face, revealing twin rows of razor teeth. "Then you are fortunate that I know a place."



Arms of the Ocean Ch. 08



Crashes, clacks and shouts echoed around the large, circular room, emanating from the round, sand-floored pit in the center. Cheers filled the air, occasionally rising, falling or even turning to 'ooo's and hisses to match the unfolding scene. 

Scuffing around on the sand were two Chayli, each wielding a polished stick in place of a more lethal weapon. They hurled themselves at one another and their weapons cracked together once again. One parried the other's stick aside before firing out a jab. Then they separated with speed that only a winged creature could manage, sand kicking up beneath them. 

For several seconds the combatants circled one another. Their shoulders rose and fell with heavy breathing and their skin, where no padding covered, had become spotted purple with large welts and bruises. 

"A long and arduous fight for our two warriors!" boomed a Ralta who had magically amplified her voice. "The next altercation could be the last." 

As though waiting for that queue, both Chayli lunged forwards on coursing wings of wind. They each dodged to the other's side and spiraled ever closer in the center of the arena. Seconds later they came together and began trading blows with crack after crack reverberating throughout the hall. 

Though it felt far longer, barely five seconds had passed before one Chayli managed to catch the other in the ribs with a solid strike. 

"Match end!" the judge's voice boomed from his stage. 

The referee, a fluoromancer, at the judges side stepped forwards and lifted his hands from which emanated a bright, yellow glow. The two combatants in the arena, one clutching a broken rib, began to float from the sand and hovered up to land upon the stage. 

"A good fight!" the announcer yelled with a voice that could cut stone. "But your winner, through crippling her opponent, Calios of the Fold! Let's hear it!" 

Calios raised her arms and the crowds cheered. She then turned to her opponent and the two woman shook hands before stepping off the stage in the direction of the backrooms. One to claim glory, the other to be healed of her wounds. 

"Few woman in the Fold could claim to last as long in the ring as they! Few men too, I should think." 

A ripple of laughter rolled through the arena's stands. 

"Now drink, guests, but not so much that you miss the next fight!" 

"Never, madam!" the crowd shouted back. Most fights must end in such a way for a script to have formed. 

Ronav pulled away from the guard rail that ran around the edge of the arena. Ripples on the Water didn't have anything like this, a gladiatorial spectacle housed in the hillside. And such a large, professional affair, too. The tiered seating, complete with tables for the food served here. The stage overlooking the arena where the announcer, judge and referee stood. The last's job seemed to amount to pulling apart combatants at the ends of fights or if things got too messy. 

Ronav could hardly believe that he hadn't heard about it the moment he set foot in town. Zeerae, however, sounded as if she lived here. It being named The Blood Bowl, that didn't strike Ronav as particularly surprising. 

A hand fell upon Ronav's shoulder. He turned around and found himself face to face with Zeerae. 

"Ours has arrived," she said before immediately flowing back through the dispersing crowds. 

Ronav followed to their table where Vyla sat, partly slumped, with her chair resting against the massive stones of the wall. The scents of the food that Zeerae had ordered wafted towards Ronav as he sat. Meat, all of it meat. A bowl of meatballs that swam in an orange sauce, an oval plate with a leg of ham and, sitting on the only green visible, a steak that had barely seen flame. 

Ronav eyed the thin spread of vegetation sitting beneath a layer of flesh. The only food he could eat and it was bathed in meaty juices. "You didn't know Taigin are vegetarian?" he asked. 

Zeerae nodded. "Of course, but we dine at The Blood Bowl. Did you honestly expect to find leaves to eat here?" 

Ronav groaned as his stomach rumbled forlornly. He turned his eyes upwards to a place where a sturdy, wooden buttress held up part of the roof. Cradled in the beam's arms sat Yis, eyeing them and the food. 

Convincing Yis to come inside had been a nightmare. The enclosed space, the Sirens, the throngs of patrons. Yis had been repelled by all of it. Only when Ronav had said that he wanted her as a protector had she even considered the possibility of entering. Still, her discomfort was almost palpable. The way her eyes kept darting around to each new noise. She hadn't left her perch since they'd come in and she'd barely been on the ground even then. 

She has to warm up eventually, Ronav reassured himself. In the meantime, it was probably for the best that she remain out of the way, seeing how she could only speak Siren. 

The reason behind Yis' limited languages had yet to be uncovered, not for lack of trying. Her initial interaction with the Sirens seemed to be as much as Yis desired. Everything since had been met with closed lips or words of rebuff 

"These too," said a waitress who practically materialized by the table. She set down two pitchers of strong-smelling ale, several mugs and a bowl filled with lettuce, carrots and slivers of tomato and mushroom, slathered generously with an oily dressing. "Sorry for the delay," she added before whisking away between the tables. 

Ronav stared at the salad. "I thought you said—" 

"Taigin make good brawlers. A fighting pit would never dare to turn them away through lack of food." Zeerae finished by sinking her teeth, blunted down from their once-razor shape, into one of the meatballs. 

Ronav sighed internally. Already this new Siren was proving to be as bad as Vyla in the realm of taunts. Did all of their kind act this way? Perhaps it stemmed from the thinking that they're better than everyone else. Either that or the knowledge that they can get away with it. 

You two need a taste of your own medicine, Ronav resolved as he forked some of the salad into his mouth. There had to be a way to get them back for the steady barrage of slights. Something small that wouldn't see his guts pulled out his throat but still enough to prove that he could give as good as he received. Easier thought of than done. 

"Come sister, you need to eat," said Zeerae to Vyla. 

The injured Siren slid forwards in her chair and leaned upon the table. "What are those?" she asked, laxly pointing to the meatballs. 

"Spiced meat that has been mashed and rolled." 

"From where on the animal?" 

"All over. Try them, they'll be easiest in your state." 

Vyla regarded the bowl for several seconds more before reaching instead for the pig's leg and the knife accompanying it. Her injuries and suffering were made obvious as she struggled to carve flesh from the bone. Ronav leaned over to help but Vyla snarled him back. 

"I can do it," she said, teeth gritted. 

"It's not always weak to take help when help is needed," said Zeerae. 

Vyla replied with silence. She soon had her prize and tore into it as if to spite her would-be assisters. Still, her substandard state showed through. To Ronav, Vyla seemed even worse off than she had been back in the sewer room. The reason, through his limited understanding, was that she had had to leave her natural disguise and take the form of a Neynas, thus putting greater exertion on her body. Regardless, during the trip over, she had insisted that she could manage. Zeerae, at least, didn't seem quite so stubborn, though she had yet to be tested similarly. 

"Do you think she'll come down for food?" Zeerae asked, her head pointed towards the Chayli girl who continued to glower at the Sirens from above. 

Ronav looked too. Yis had moved since last he'd checked. She now lay upon the beam in a manner that could only be comfortable to someone who had spent their life among the treetops. "Why don't you ask her?" 

"In what language, Sye?" Vyla asked as she struggled with her meal. Her injuries had put her in a foul mood but the message was clear. Too many folk around to coax Yis down in her native tongue. 

Ronav kept his eyes on Vyla a moment longer, hoping that she would feel better soon. "Yis." He beckoned with his whole arm. "Come eat." 

Yis shook her head but didn't stop watching the table. Ronav had hoped that so many people around would satisfy Yis that the Siren's weren't a present danger. Then again, the unfamiliarity of all this likely served as just as much of a repellent. 

Throughout their meal, Vyla continued to struggle stubbornly with her leg of ham, never going near the meatballs. Zeerae, meanwhile, gave off the air of a native land-dweller the way she told stories of Shadetree Fold, Ripples on the Water and other places in the north. Never did the tales hint at the Siren side of things. No secret operations, assassinations or espionage. Only innocent little anecdotes that were both interesting and mildly humorous. A time of leave spent in Iron Rift where it had snowed for the first time in decades and the townspeople didn't know what to think. Her sighting of an extremely elusive rainbow nydallop, a dark-skinned tree snake whose scales hold an iridescent shimmer. 

Only once everyone had eaten their fill did the true Zeerae resurface. "Now that our appetites are sated, shall we turn to business?" she said with the predatory look returning to her eyes. It fell upon Ronav and Vyla alike. 

"Starting where?" Ronav asked. 

"By telling me the entirety of your travel plans. Where you intend to go, what you intend to do there and how long you will stay. I shall also require the reason for your going there." Zeerae sat back once she had finished and awaited information. 

Ronav and Vyla met eyes briefly before he spoke. "She's taking me to meet the Southsea Sirens. There's one in particular who saved my life several months ago. I don't know how long we'll be there or what will come of it." 

"The Southsea Sirens?" Zeerae looked over at Vyla who returned a blank face. "How could you have met one of them so far north?" 

"We don't know," Vyla answered in a flat tone that hinted at the discomfort she was in. 

Zeerae cupped her chin and, for several moments, remained silently in thought. "I will accompany you." 

"Why?" Ronav blurted out. The last thing he needed was another Siren to follow or lead him around. Especially with the distinct possibility that Yis would be joining their party too. 

"You're in Shasteless territory. I will not have you thrashing about and interfering with things as you almost did here." 

"Vyla she—" 

"Is right, sye." Vyla eyed Ronav in her standard dare to challenge her will. 

Why side with her? Ronav wondered. Vyla should have loved to see Zeerae gone, given the nature of their introduction. "Why?" 

"You think she is the only Shasteless out there?" Vyla replied. 

With those few words, understanding dawned on Ronav. Zeerae would serve as a double agent of sorts. A guard against them treading on Shasteless operations and a guide through the very same territory. That hardly warmed him to the thought of managing two Sirens together. 

But, he thought with a silent laugh. Perhaps they'll cancel each other out. At the very least, it was something to cling to. 

"What is funny?" Vyla asked, her words like slivers of ice as they cut through his thoughts. 

"Nothing," Ronav mumbled. 

"Then I trust that settles everything," said Zeerae. "We can leave tomorrow by Vouiareli." 

Ronav remained silent as he had no doubts that Zeerae would be able to afford such an expense. And in the correct currency, no less. 

"My dear guests!" echoed the announcer's voice so suddenly that Ronav almost leapt from his chair. Once composed, he twisted around to see what had begun to develop. 

"Our bloodlust has returned and so another fight is at hand!" the Ralta woman boomed. "In the arena we now present a doubles match of spells against spells. On the blues, the Neynas brothers Marbis and Xach of Iron Rift. Fighting on the reds are Miss Lirip of Bladed-Dro and Sir Dalch of Kalatish. Each have traveled leagues to grace our arena, let us show them the welcome they deserve!" 

The crowds roared their cheers and thundered their applause until the announcer beckoned for a return of quiet. 

"So we shall watch. Ralta against Neynas. Sound versus Light. This will surely be a most excellent fight," she rhymed. "But before we begin, entries for our amateur fights have opened. Now battle red and blue until you are marked with those colors both!" 

Again the hall surged with cheers and people rushed towards the arena's edge for a closer look. Ronav almost stood to join them when he felt a touch upon his arm. 

"You should enter," said Zeerae once he had turned around. 

"Yes," Vyla agreed and, for the first time in a while, a smile surfaced upon her lips. 

"No, no chance. I can't even f—" 

"Oh miss!" Zeerae suddenly called to a waitress passing by. "We've a volunteer but he doesn't know where to enter." 

The waitress, another Taigin, sized up Ronav and took his hand before he could say anything. "Come with me, friend, we'll get you sorted." 

The woman had a strong grip and Ronav found himself practically being dragged through the tables. He shot a glance back at Zeerae who was grinning and Vyla who had sunk back into her moodiness. 

"You'll probably get into the fray real quick. We've not had enough of our fellows on the sand today." She shot Ronav a smile and it occurred to him that, were this woman not leading him to a world of pain, he might have found her attractive. The soft skin and dappled hair that belied the impressive physical strength of the Taigin, no less so for the women. Not to mention the generous curve of her figure. 

"I don't think this is a good idea," Ronav begged as they drew close to an ominous passageway, located to the right of the stage, that descended deeper into the hillside. "I'm not much of a fighter." 

"Tch, nonsense. We're practically born fighters. And look at these." The woman suddenly whirled around and grabbed Ronav's right bicep in both hands. "Built like a stone." 

Ronav held off on saying that all Taigin men were built that way. The words were nice but they had also just reached a group of other would-be candidates. Each took a moment to eye Ronav, no Taigin among them, as he was led past and into what appeared to be an armory of sorts. Several other contenders were busy either strapping on padded leather or taking sticks to a set of dummies on the right wall. There were wooden replicas of weapons laying all over the place. Mostly swords of the one and two-handed variety, though. No fights to the death here which meant that everything effectively became a club, despite what they might aim to represent. 

"Here you go, sire. Garv'll take care of you now." The woman pointed out a Chayli man across the room who, if not for the patchwork of scars on his body, wouldn't have struck Ronav has much of a combatant. "He might look rough but he's gentle as a fairy parg," the waitress chattered. 

Garv suddenly perked up and whirled around. "Will ya stoop saya that ta the guests, child. Ma self esteem canna take it," his voice rumbled. 

Ronav struggled not to laugh as he tried to place the man's accent. It had to come from deep in the southwest, hundreds of leagues from where they were now. 

The waitress left Ronav then and Garv strode across the room. 

"Alrighta new meat, let's take a look at cha." Garv gave several slaps of Ronav's arm muscles, looked him in the eyes then nodded stiffly. "Ah, you'll do. Tha crowds pining fa some Taigin so you'll be up nexta. Pick a weapon and get suited up." 

As fast as Garv had set upon Ronav, he moved away again and went back to whatever he had been doing before. Cleaning the blood off of armor, by the looks of it. 

Ronav stepped over to one side where a suit of padding that looked roughly his size was waiting. If this armor was the same as what everyone else had on, it wouldn't cover him completely. Plenty of bruises awaited in his future. 

I'm going to get you for this, Ronav decided as he thought of Zeerae and Vyla both. Not once did he question the wisdom of that plan. 

=== 

Another flash of orange from the arena persuaded Vyla to close her eyes. She slumped down a little further and shut out the world. No more mindless Shaslings surrounding her nor Zeerae with her attention rapt to the battle. She was all alone, back in the gentle rolling of the sea. 

The hard chair beneath Vyla said otherwise. She could have changed shape to make things more comfortable; as it was, anyone who cared to look long and hard enough might wonder how a creature that should possess a spine could bend in such a way as she did now, curled strangely over the table. But the Shaslings were drawn by the fight and their table stood by the walls where the lighting was dim. 

This outing had been agonizing. How Vyla wished she could have avoided it. But she had needed to eat if she planned to regenerate in a timely manner or at all. Still, overlooking the meatballs had been a mistake that Vyla already regretted. Her body struggled to digest the tougher meat that she had chosen. 

Queen curse them, Vyla thought at everyone around her. Had she been alone she would have opted for the easiest meal available. The constant company was fast becoming too much to bear. 

A slight breeze roused Vyla enough to open her eyes and she spotted the girl, Yis, descending to sit where Ronav had been. 

Both Siren's regarded their guest as a lion with a full stomach might regard a gazelle. From crevices unknown, Vyla found the strength to pull herself upright. "What is it?" she said in Siren at such a volume that none but their table would hear. 

Yis gave them a cold stare before opening her mouth. "What are you—" 

"Kssh!" Vyla and Zeerae hissed together. Yis somehow hadn't caught on that she should be quiet. A quick check revealed that nobody had torn their interest away from the fight to hear a Chayli talk in Siren. 

"We whisper," said Zeerae in the same tongue. 

"Where are they taking Ronav?" Yis hushed as she leaned a short way over the table. 

"To fight in the pit," Vyla replied. 

"He—" 

"It is his choice." 

Yis scowled at Vyla, then turned her attention to Zeerae. "Why is he going with you?" 

"He wants to travel to the southern sea," said the Shasteless. "You should ask him why." 

"His words are strange." 

Zeerae and Vyla exchanged a glance. Then Zeerae folded her arms and spoke. "Yours are no less so." 

"What do you mean?" Yis asked, her eyes narrowing. 

"Do you realize that you're speaking our language?" Zeerae pointed to herself and Vyla. "Siren language. Why do this when you seem to loathe us? Who taught you this tongue?" 

Yis blinked but didn't say anything, confirming Zeerae's point. This whole time Yis had been speaking Siren without realizing the origins of the language or its true owners. Her solidarity in the woods must have kept that misunderstanding from being corrected. But why live in the woods at all? 

"One of your parents was a Chayli," Zeerae stated. "But the other, most likely your mother, was a Siren." 

"No." Yis shook her head. 

"Your father then? That is strange..." 

"No." Yis said again. "Neither." 

"Then how could they have known the language that you speak?" 

Yis frowned, opened her mouth and closed it again immediately. Then her expression turned from confusion to anger. "Liars," she hissed. 

Before either Siren could argue, Yis pushed out of her chair and gusted towards the roof, sending a blast of air across the surrounding tables. She moved like a blur towards the entrance of The Blood Bowl and shot outside, almost knocking down a Taigin who had chosen to walk in at that unfortunate moment. 




Arms of the Ocean Ch. 08



"We will need to learn more about her," Zeerae said in a tone suggesting that the end of existence would only slow her down. 

"Yes," Vyla agreed. 

With Yis gone, Vyla's attention flitted back to the fight. The flashes, screeches and blasts of magic had done well to drown out their conversation, now they were proving to be obnoxious and loud. 

"Ooh and a sonic wave sweeps Marbis to his back!" the Announcer roared and the crowd roared with her. "Looks like he hit his head on the way down, will that be— it is! Match over, the reds have it with Sir Dalch as the last to stand! Let's hear it for him!" 

If possible, the cheers from the onlookers seemed to intensify. It didn't help that the stone walls of this place carried sound so well. Vyla sank her head to the table and folded her arms over the top. She then closed off her ears completely and let time tick by. 

Barely a minute had passed before Vyla felt Zeerae nudging her to attention again. 

"Ronav is to be on next, if you wish to watch," she said. 

Vyla glared at Zeerae for disturbing her, then sank back down. "No." 

"Are you sure? They're pitting him against a Neynas, it should be amusing." 

"I said no." 

"Then I'll cheer doubly on your behalf." Zeerae rose and soon vanished between the tables. 

Vyla watched her fellow Siren leave. Seeing the back of Zeerae brought her the faintest tinge of comfort. Then she went back to resting. A woman who had had too much to drink, by the view of any onlooker. 

=== 

The tunnel in which Ronav had been forced to wait for several minutes lacked any torches. So long in the darkness meant that he squinted when emerging into the brightly-lit arena. The tops of the walls were lined with faces peering down at him. With quivering nerves, Ronav adjusted his grip on the wooden pole that he had chosen and looked towards the other side of the arena where his opponent was entering. 

A Neynas. Perfect. And, from the lack of weapons, one who planned to use his magic to the fullest. Already the man had his hands raised, palms pointed outwards with the glassy suncrests in each poised to work spells. 

Throughout his life, Ronav had had few dealings with magic. There had been the occasional trip to the healer for a bad cut or a broken bone but that was it. Never the full experience of a Neynas' abilities and never in a combat situation. 

Like a lamb to the slaughter the Sirens might say. Ronav immediately forced them from his mind. Besides, they'd probably use some ocean creature for that analogy. 

A minnow in a shark's maw, Ronav thought. I shall be the shark. 

"We've been yearning today for a Taigin in the ring, haven't we my guests?!" the announcer bellowed. 

A roar of ascent echoed overhead. Ronav tried and failed to shut the sounds out but he had nowhere to hide. The Neynas was busy regarding him with empty eyes and the long, thin scar across his forehead wasn't very comforting. Especially not the way it stood out so grimly from the man's fair skin and hair. 

"And look who's pitted against him! Let us welcome Aewab of Rumbling Pass and Ronav of Ripples on the Water!" The announcer fell silent for a moment as another wave of cheering flowed down from the arena walls. 

"A classic pairing," she cried when an opening in the volume appeared. "Magic against muscle. Brains against brawn. Spells against sinew. Cleverness— bah, you get the picture. Let the fight begin!" 

For a moment Ronav faltered, resenting the announcer's implication that he was stupid. That implication was proven truer when he felt a tug upon his weapon and, before he had a chance to react, it pulled itself from his grip and flew towards the Neynas. 

"Oho, disarmed already! C'mon, you awake down there?!" the announcer shouted amid the crowd's laughter. 

Ronav again tried to shut the world out as he felt his skin flushing red. He looked across the sand to where Aewab waited with one hand levitating the stick around. 

At a loss for what else to do, Ronav took a step forwards. Aewab flicked his hand and the stick lashed out, prodding Ronav painfully in the stomach before retreating out of reach again. 

What am I supposed to do? Ronav wondered. He had a good fifteen meters of sand to cross before reaching his opponent and he doubted that mere levitation would be the only obstacle. 

Go over there and rip his head off, he imagined Vyla saying. Or would you rather these Shaslings continue to taunt you. 

Taunt they did. That last blow had earned another surge from the crowd. Ronav snarled through gritted teeth, braced himself and began striding across the sand. 

As soon as he took the first step, the stick came swinging in again. He reached to intercept the weapon but it darted smoothly to the side and slapped him on the elbow before speeding away to strike someplace else. 

Aewab moved the stick against Ronav like a swarm of bees stinging a bear that had intruded upon their hive. Blow after blow to the gaps in his armor. Twisting, turning, darting in and out and occasionally delivering a slap to the back of the head. 

"Gah!" Ronav cried. The strikes weren't especially painful but they were so numerous and fast that he felt himself slowly succumbing to the barrage. In a fit of desperation he lashed out with both hands and, by some twist luck or fate, caught the stick between his forearms. 

Ronav hesitated for a moment, stunned at what he had managed to accomplish. The weapon jerked around like a floundering fish. Without pausing to think, he took it in both hands and snapped it over his knee with a roar. 

Only once Ronav looked at the two pieces of wood did he realize his error. Two sticks for this Neynas to get his magic into. He looked at Aewab who stood poised in anticipation of his opponent's next move. 

Then let him have them, Ronav thought. He shifted both sticks to his right hand, drew back and hurled them across the arena with all his strength. 

The broken bits of wood sped towards Aewab who had barely a fraction of a second to dodge out of the way. While the Neynas was distracted, Ronav stomped forwards as he bent over and scooped a handful of sand from the arena floor. 

A cloud of yellow grit greeted Aewab when he turned back from evading the projectiles and his hands flew up to shield his eyes. 

Ronav dove the last few meters, one hand pulled back and clenched to a fist. He landed in the fading spray of sand and brought his punch up under Aewab's chin. Hard. 

"Guh," was all that Aewab managed. His feet left the ground, teeth clacked together as he flew up and backwards, nearly flipping over. 

A fwump greeted Ronav's ears when the body of his opponent hit the ground. He realized then that the cavernous room had gone silent with the tension. Seconds later, the announcer's voice cut through. 

"Wow! I don't think Aewab will be getting up after that one! A true blow if ever I've seen one!" she paused for the crowd's chatter and whoops to rise and fade. "A lesson to us all, don't catch yourself in hand to hand with a Taigin after you've made it your life's quest to piss him off! Our friend Aewab should count himself lucky that all his limbs are still attached!" 

Ronav looked down at the tangled, unconscious body of Aewab and found it floating several feet above the sand. Barely a second later he felt a force grip him and he too began to rise from the arena. 

The referee, his hands outstretched with suncrests glowing, carried the two of them upwards and released them upon the stage. There the judge approached Ronav, smiling. 

"A bit short but not bad for a couple of virgins to the pit," the judge said as he gave Ronav a firm pat on the shoulder. "Which table's yours?" 

"What?" Ronav asked. The adrenaline leftover from his fight still pumped through his body and made it difficult to think. 

"Winners' tables eat free for the day." 

"Oh." Ronav turned around, squinted across the hall and pointed to where Vyla lay halfway sprawled across the table. "That one there." 

"Right, sixteen, isn't it?" 

A nod from the announcer. 

"We'll get that sorted," the judge continued. "Looks like your friend's been enjoying herself." 

"Yeah," said Ronav, his mind elsewhere. "Something like that." 

=== 

A scraping of chair legs and a thump upon the table roused Vyla but she didn't look up to see who had joined her. "How did he do?" she asked. 

"A victory. Not that I would call it that," Zeerae replied. 

"Mmm?" 

"Let us wait till he arrives. How are you managing?" 

"Fine," Vyla lied. She lifted her head, faced the other way then lowered it to her arms again. 

"My absence hasn't lessened your stubbornness I see. We should leave soon. Get you someplace with water that you can relax in." 

Vyla clenched her teeth at those words and the meaning behind them. Not relax as in lay back and put your feet up. The kind of relaxing where she stopped the tension on her shapeshifting muscles and allowed herself to dissolve into a puddle of ooze. It would speed the healing process, true, more so with water to float in, but to enter such a state at the behest of another? "A bed will do." 

"You're only hurting yourself." 

"I will recover." 

"How quickly? The plan is that we fly tomorrow. Will you be able to hold your grip by then or will you plummet to the ground?" 

Vyla said nothing but she cursed herself internally. A curse for Zeerae too. Bad enough that she act in charge, worse that she be right. "Very well. If you must insist," Vyla said with a tired sigh. 

Another scraping of chair legs shook Vyla back to attention as she was just getting relaxed. She looked up this time, again aware of who had returned. 

"Why weren't you watching?" Ronav asked. 

Vyla answered his question with an icy stare. 

"If you're hurting that bad we should go. Where's Yis?" Ronav looked up and scanned the ceiling. 

"She left soon after you were taken away," Zeerae explained. "Don't give me that face, it was her choice. I imagine she will be back soon enough. She seems quite interested in you, for some reason." 

"Enough talk," Vyla cut in as she stretched her back. "Let's be quit of this place." 

"It's too bad you didn't see me win," said Ronav as he moved around the table and offered his hand to Vyla. 

"I'm fine," she hissed and waved his hand away. "Besides, Zeerae tells me that it wasn't much of a win." 

"Aewab was a cocky little worm who deserved far worse than you gave," Zeerae explained when Ronav looked at her, his insult visible. "Besides, you let yourself be disarmed in the first few seconds." 

"Maybe that was the plan," Ronav said with a smile as he puffed out his chest. "Maybe I wanted him to get overconfident." 

Zeerae raised an eyebrow. 

"No, you're right." Ronav's shoulders sagged. "Well, that buzz is dead for me. Back to the sewers?" 

Vyla grimaced. "I would rather not breath in that stench. Perhaps our newest host might accommodate us?" 

Ronav frowned as he looked at Zeerae. "But I thought—" 

"What? That I live in that place? And you were so close to dispelling the announcer's slights." 

=== 

The chamber that the outside world entered into looked befitting of any noble's home. Fine, dark timber made the banister of a stairway leading to the second floor, as well as several bits of furniture that looked to serve a more aesthetic purpose than an actual one. A large tapestry on the left wall, adjacent the landing above, depicted the canopy over Shadetree Fold, complete with dots of Chayli in flight. 

"You own this place?" Ronav asked, his tone filled with awe. 

"The Shasteless do. We share as circumstance demands," Zeerae explained. She moved straight to the second floor, clearly familiar with the houses layout. 

"I would have preferred if you'd brought me here to begin with," Vyla said with a faint groan. 

The climb to this place, built in the trees atop the northern hill, must have taxed her, Ronav thought. Yet, as with the previous journey, Vyla had refused any help. 

"If I'd done that, Tomateless, there'd have been no space for us to enjoy ourselves," Zeerae called from the landing. "Come, allow me to see you settled." 

"As if there haven't been enough stairs already," Vyla muttered as she trudged after their host. 

Ronav soon found himself alone in the entry chamber. Alone in a place that might be used, on occasion, for the most secret of Siren operations. Surely not, he thought. But now curiosity gripped him and he felt compelled to explore. 

The sense of nobility that oozed from the walls didn't wane as Ronav went from room to room. Paintings, tapestries, curios and all manner of superfluous furniture littered the house. A huge, crystal chandelier hung above the mahogany table in the dining room. It alone had to be worth more than the majority of his possessions. 

The problem with the house was that it hardly felt 'lived in'. There were no books left open, half read. No glasses with a trickle of wine at the bottom nor plates with a scattering of crumbs that awaited clearing away by the servants. No servants at all, for that matter, though Ronav wasn't surprised by the fact. Even the kitchen seemed devoid of life. A display unused. As though the house hadn't been expecting company. 

Ronav stopped by a window in the parlor and peered outside. The view overlooked the northern slope of the hill that the house sat upon. Not many signs of civilization out that way. 

The evening gloom was setting in on what had been an unusually clear day. The far north regions of Ka's empire tended to be overcast and gloomy much of the time, a remnant of the dark creatures that had formerly claimed the land as theirs.  

"Wandering the house, I see?" 

Ronav whirled around to find Zeerae standing in the doorway. "I was... Heh, looking for the armory." 

"We don't keep that here," said Zeerae stone-faced. 

"What? There really is an armory?" Ronav asked. It had been a joke. Perhaps it was foolish, but it struck him as odd that there would be a cache of Siren weapons in town someplace. 

"Of course, though it houses more than mere tools of war," Zeerae explained as she swayed, step by step, into the room. "But, as I said, it is elsewhere. What if we were to find ourselves entertaining a guest who took to wandering and discovered something he shouldn't." 

With his back against the window, Ronav couldn't avoid Zeerae as she came dangerously close and traced a finger down his chest. He swallowed. "Uh, what exactly are you... seeking?" 

As quickly as she had moved in, Zeerae pulled away again and shrugged. "Company, perhaps, nothing more. Here, sit with me and let us talk." She took a seat on one of the sofas occupying the parlor. Like every other piece of furniture in the house, the aesthetics of these looked as though it would impede upon the functionality. 

Ronav confirmed his suspicion when he sat upon the sofa at a corner with Zeerae's. The cushions felt stiff and hardly bent to the contours of his back. Even the fabric felt abrasive on his skin. But they looked elegant and, as far as nobility went, that was all that seemed to matter. "Are you—" 

"Why do you suppose Vyla is assisting you?" From Zeerae's tone it was clear that this had turned to an interview rather than an innocent conversation. 

Ronav thought back over the past two days and the exhausting, myriad events that had filled them. "She's never really been clear on that." 

"Then how can you be sure that she isn't trying to trick you?" 

Ronav frowned at the odd question. What did one Siren care if another tried to trick him? "Could I ever be sure?" 

Zeerae shook her head. 

"Besides, she's had plenty of chances to trap me or kill me or whatever it is she might decide to do," Ronav continued, as much to satisfy his own uncertainties as Zeerae's questions. 

"Not necessarily. Sometimes we will entice a Shasling along if we must travel far, then kill them later. Think of it as a way of preserving the meat on a journey," Zeerae explained as carefree as one would share an old recipe. 

Ronav blinked. "Did you really need to tell me that?" 

Zeerae answered with a razor-toothed smile. 

Silence crept over them for several seconds before Ronav sought to break it. "What do you really want here?" he asked. "I doubt there's anything I can tell you which you haven't considered or realized already." 

"True." Zeerae nodded and her aqua hair bobbed. She then leaned over and placed a hand on Ronav's knee. "I just wanted to know you better without your companion around." 

"Uh... huh," was all Ronav managed as he stared at the Siren's hand. He kept expecting claws or knives to grow from her fingers. 

Nothing like that happened. Zeerae instead rippled and flowed as a ribbon of water to sit next to him upon the sofa. Through the liquid motion her hand never left his knee. "Do you know what I went through as I followed the two of you here?" she asked. 

Ronav didn't answer. He could have sworn that, during the Siren's movement, the cut of her shirt had come a little lower. While not as substantial as Vyla, Zeerae still managed to produce a supple valley upon her chest. 

"It was a taxing journey, I hope you realize," Zeerae chattered on, pretending to be oblivious to how close she now sat. "The mud, the cold, the tediousness and not a thing to eat the entire time. And do you know what I got to listen to throughout? The sounds of your friend and the lady tumbling around for hours." 

"Where were you?" The perplexity of it allowed Ronav to totally overlook the other elements of Zeerae's words. 

"Beneath the carriage, of course. Hooked into the wood, camouflaged and spread out like a stingray. A perfect vantage point to hear every moan and feel every thump." Zeerae hung her head and her hand at last came away. "I wouldn't say I was jealous or some such nonsense. But it's hard to listen to something like that for so long and not want to join in, wouldn't you agree?" 

Ronav could empathize with that story perfectly. He gave a momentary nod before stopping himself as he realized what the Siren was doing. Ronav looked at her and held up a hand. "Wait, Vyla and I..." 

Zeerae cocked her head when Ronav didn't finish. "You what?" she asked innocently. 

In truth, Ronav didn't know how to end that sentence either. Vyla and I have a thing? What thing? That one, drawn-out session yesterday? 

"You know, Ronav, monogamy is a concept that barely appears in Siren society. Only a few, strange, individuals follow it, mostly because they're the lowest of the low and have no other choice." 

"But—" 

"Besides," Zeerae continued mercilessly as she cupped Ronav's chin in her delicate hands. "Vyla has already betrayed any trust of single partners. Twice, I might add. And since seeing you in the arena, I've been intrigued to try and taste what she did." 

"I... thought you said my win didn't count for much," Ronav managed as his resolve steadily waned. The fluid way in which Zeerae moved, her breathy voice, the curve of her figure, the exotic, aqua hair and the softer-than-Vyla advances. Everything came together to bring a spark in Ronav's heart and a rise in his pants. 

"It didn't." Zeerae's voice snapped him back to attention. "But it's nice to see my prey squabbling before the meal." 

Ronav laughed nervously. "Meal in the metaphorical sense, right?" 

Zeerae looked away as she thought for a moment. "Things might go that direction, yes." 

As soon as Zeerae finished speaking she pressed in against Ronav's body and pushed her lips to his. What few inhibitions he had left melted away at that moment. This was an exotic and attractive creature that wanted him. Besides, she was right about Vyla. And the journey here had been rather taxing. 




Arms of the Ocean Ch. 08



With all his concerns put to rest, Ronav pressed back and opened his mouth partway to accept Zeerae's tongue as it emerged. 

"Mmm," she hummed. Then, to Ronav's momentary surprise before remembering the nature of Siren's, she spoke without moving her lips away. "You'll find that I've taken examples from the Shasling method of sex," she said as her arms moved towards his chest and began undoing his shirt. "The sisters would call it inferior but I feel that there is a certain charm to be learned from your kind." 

Ronav couldn't tell if she meant that as a compliment or an insult. A bit of both, he decided under the duress of Zeerae's wandering hands. They crept beneath his shirt and slipped it off before commencing an exploration of his upper body. 

Like liquid, Zeerae flowed from the sofa to kneel in Ronav's lap, her legs straddling his. If she felt the substantial bulge that had developed between them, she showed no sign. 

Ronav felt a ripple across his skin and his hands told him that Zeerae's clothing had melted away. Immediately he reached for the Siren's modest breasts and delicately thumbed her nipples. 

"Eek," Zeerae squealed at his touch and she pulled away. "Your hands are rougher than I'd expected." 

Ronav stared at her smiling face. He never would have expected such a remark from a Siren. It seemed more of a land dweller thing to say. An act? Or perhaps a life on land had softened Zeerae somehow. Either way, Ronav placed his hands upon the curve of her hips and pulled her back in. 

A tugging against Ronav's legs developed but he was too distracted by the battle of tongues to see what was happening below. He could feel his pants being dragged off and away and soon he only felt the Siren's naked skin against his own. 

"Mmm," Zeerae hummed again and she rocked her hips back and forth several times upon Ronav's rigid member. "Has Vyla done this for you?" the Siren asked as she pulled away and began sliding to the floor. 

"Not yet," Ronav replied once he guessed her intent. He then sucked in a breathe upon feeling Zeerae's tongue reach his cock. 

Like Vyla, Zeerae felt immensely practiced in the act of fellatio. She began slowly, licking around the very tip. Her tongue wandered in tiny circles, occasionally promising to wrap around but pulling back before committing. 

"Hah," Ronav groaned as the Siren suddenly dragged her tongue up the length of his steely shaft before returning to her teasing touch. 

"Would you like more?" she asked after a few more seconds. 

"Please," Ronav begged. Then, remembering his session with Vyla and what she had demanded, added, "mistress." 

Zeerae smiled. "So polite. But such titles are unnecessary. This won't be that kind of lay." 

Ronav opened his mouth to say something more but closed it again as soon as Zeerae's engulfed the head of his cock. His hands found the sofa and clawed for a grip as the sensations of the Siren's tongue washed upon him like waves upon an ivory shore. 

Suddenly Zeerae speared her head deep upon his cock, sending it down her throat to the hilt. Inside her mouth it felt as if a second tongue had emerged. Both began to swirl around Ronav's member in an impossible whirlpool of sexual energy.  

"Tell me, Ronav," Zeerae said, without disengaging, after a short while of her barrage. "Would you object to me doing this?" 

The Siren's hands came up and pressed her breasts together as she leaned forwards to wrap them around Ronav's cock. Almost. They weren't quite large enough. Still, her mouth hadn't quit so Ronav wasn't complaining. He could only lean back in the sofa as the soaking vortex assaulted him. 

"Not enough, are they?" Zeerae remarked, continuing the trick of speaking with her mouth full. 

"It's, ah... fine," Ronav managed. 

"Mm," Zeerae hummed, sending shivers through his body. "That's nice of you. But, if you're like every other sye..." 

Zeerae's breasts, formerly a bit bigger than a fist, started to fill out. They grew and swelled, wrapping steadily around Ronav's cock with a pillowy warmth until they were roughly the size of Zeerae's head and his member was lost in their valley and the flooded cave above. 

"So," Zeerae remarked as Ronav stared. "You do have a preference of size. But you'll have to enjoy them later." 

The Siren suddenly pulled away and Ronav's cock slipped slickly from her mouth. "Hey," he begged. 

"Don't be selfish. I've warmed you up. What about me?" 

Zeerae moved to the other sofa and spread her legs wide, revealing the bare pink lips of her vagina. Despite her demands, she looked warmed up already. Her thighs were coated with an obvious wetness and her pussy looked flush and hungry. 

"Come on, mighty Taigin. Has that tongue of yours some agility?" 

Ronav stepped towards the Siren and kneeled between her legs. He nearly reached her lower lips with his tongue before a more cunning idea entered his mind. Instead Ronav began to lick and caress the very edges of Zeerae's sensitive skin. 

"Kssh, payback?" she hissed. 

"Mhmm," Ronav hummed, intending for the sensation to tease her further. From the way Zeerae's legs quivered momentarily, it worked. 

Zeerae's hands, which had been lazily rubbing her thighs, moved up her body to begin pawing and pinching at her enlarged breasts and nipples. Seeing that her attention had shifted, Ronav chose that moment to sweep his tongue lightly across the nub of the Siren's clit. 

"Mm," she moaned. Her head rocked back and her hands, having only just relocated, moved once more to hold Ronav against her. "Right there," she demanded. 

With his head held in place, Ronav had little choice but to comply as he began swirling his tongue in soft, little circles around the Siren's clit. For nearly a minute Ronav worked on the outside of Zeerae's pussy as the juices flowing from within grew more copious. The constant gasps, moans and sighs from the Siren encouraged Ronav to finally drive his tongue a short distance inside and begin rubbing the roof of her pussy. 

"Oh!" Zeerae exclaimed, followed by a series of squealing giggles. Her legs clamped together on Ronav's head and spasmed slightly as her hands gripped and clawed through his hair. 

"Ha," the Siren gasped after half a minute, during which Ronav had continued his pleasing. Zeerae then opened her legs invitingly and pushed her lover away. "Put it in," she demanded as one hand stroked her clit and the other teased a nipple. 

Ronav hesitated momentarily over the display of eroticism before him. Zeerae had just come yet here she was begging for more. 

"Now!" she hissed hungrily amid panting with desire. 

"As you wish." Ronav moved in again and positioned his cock at her entrance. The heat that greeted him felt incredible and, for a moment, he paused to enjoy the sensations of his tip pressed up against her wet folds until a look from Zeerae demanded penetration. 

"We're done with foreplay, shasling. I want you to fuck me till I break." 

"As you wish," Ronav said once more. He entered her then, slowly as the tightness of her felt driven to push him away. 

Zeerae's eyes rolled back and slid closed as she bit her lips and let out a long, satisfied moan. Ronav pressed in until his hips met hers and he could go no further. For several seconds he held still, simply enjoying the warm, deep, wetness of the Siren as her chasm encompassed him. 

When Zeerae began to rock against him, Ronav took that as the queue to begin in earnest. He drew back to the edge of the Siren's opening and her eyes fluttered open as though she feared he might leave. Ronav paused a moment, capitalizing on Zeerae's desire, before slowly ploughing back in, eliciting another drawn-out sigh from his lover. 

"Faster," she hissed once he reached his limit a second time. 

Ronav obeyed, but only just, building his rhythm steadily with every intention of teasing out the Siren's lust. Each thrust he built more speed and each completion earned another delicate whimper from Zeerae that contrasted starkly with the harsh image normally pinned to her kind. 

As the intensity grew, Zeerae's large breasts began to bounce freely upon her chest. Her hands immediately flew to them to hold and play with. Ronav would have liked to join in but his own hands rested upon Zeerae's curvaceous hips as added purchase to his thrusting. 

After a couple of minutes, with the limit of Ronav's speed recently reached, he felt Zeerae's legs wrap around his waist and pull him in harder. Meanwhile, one of the Siren's hands struggled to enthusiastically tease both of her breasts while the other couldn't seem to decide between caressing the top of her clit or joining its sibling. 

The enthusiasm apparent in Zeerae's self pleasing, while Ronav pounded away, made him wonder if she might be near her climax again. Yet she had only just come. He wasn't so naive to think that he could bring such frequent bliss to a woman. Some god of sex who— 

"Oh, fffuck," Zeerae cried as her body began to twitch in orgasm. "Don't s-stop..." 

Ronav had no plans to. He could only marvel at how ecstatic the Siren seemed to be in the throes of release. She had to be helping him somehow, he decided. 

After nearly a minute, Zeerae's climactic quivers came to an end. She suddenly pulled herself up, still being thrust into, and locked lips with Ronav, driving her tongue into his mouth. The aggressive kiss, that gave Ronav flashbacks to his time with Vyla, lasted several intense seconds before Zeerae pulled away and looked him in the eyes. 

"Move us to the wall," she demanded, her voice still coated in longing. 

Ronav sought out a bare patch of wall and carried the Siren over there. Already guessing her intent, he braced Zeerae up between two bookshelves and the lust-driven rut continued. 

By this point, Ronav could feel his peak on the horizon. Her pussy had begun to pulsate around his member in some strange manner that only a Siren could perform. Each squeeze, ripple or pull brought a shudder up his spine and through his heart. 

Again Zeerae's eyes had clamped closed as Ronav bounced her against the wall. He held her up by her juice-slickened thighs, legs spread wide and still wrapped around his waist. His body pressed against hers and her breasts squeezed up against his chest. 

"Always love... trying this," Zeerae managed between gasps despite her voice being stammered by her bouncing. "Only Taigin... strong enough to... keep it going." 

Unfortunately, Ronav realized, he wasn't going to be able to cater to the Siren's whim much longer. He could feel his orgasm drawing near as a searing heat began to build within his cock. So close. 

"About to come," he grunted. 

Zeerae's eyes shot open and she pouted despite the assault her pussy was experiencing. "Already? Gah, very well." 

Suddenly the swirling of Zeerae's searing cave went into overdrive upon Ronav's cock. He stopped thrusting, leaving her impaled to the hilt, and could only struggle against collapse as myriad pulses, licks, teases and ripples wove their way around his member. 

"Aah," Ronav grunted with the orgasm that blasted through him. His cock began to spurt burst after burst of his seed deep into Zeerae's flooded pussy. 

Beneath the crushing weight of his climax, Ronav's legs buckled and gave out. He fell to the floor and Zeerae managed to fall atop him without finding herself removed from his cock. Ronav guessed that that was no accident when she began bouncing upon him immediately as he continued to jet his come inside her. 

"Mmm," Zeerae moaned, her head thrown back. "So warm." She then fell forwards and trailed her tongue, grown out beyond a reasonable length, across Ronav's chest and up his face. Her heavy breasts and hard nipples grazed her lover's chest as she rode out his orgasm. 

Just as Ronav's high began to fade, Zeerae cried out again. Her fingers curled and clawed reflexively with yet another climax crashing upon the Siren. 

"Haa, vy lee," Zeerae sighed. She sank forwards and relaxed across Ronav's body, her hips still moving lazily upon his cock. Her aqua hair fanned out and curtained down the sides of her head while her breasts crushed up between them. "Mmm," Zeerae purred like a satisfied cat. 

A minute crept by before Ronav found the energy and will to speak. "How was that?" 

"Quite good," Zeerae replied without lifting her head, opening her eyes or ceasing the steady rocking of her hips on his cock that remained semi-hard within her. 

"Quite good?" To Ronav, the Siren's cries had suggested a little more than that. 

"So I said." 

The lazy stimulation that her pussy was inflicting upon Ronav threatened to reawaken his member but he didn't know where he would find the energy to go another session. His bones and muscles ached from another over-eventful day. "Should I try to improve my review?" he asked. 

Zeerae lifted her head and looked him in the eyes. Hers had turned a dark amber. "Later, maybe. This is nice to rest for now." The Siren lay her head upon him and went back to her absent-minded grinding, occasionally uttering a soft sigh of contentment. 

Ronav laid his head back upon the wooden floor. Not the most comfortable of places to fall asleep but it had its perks. Zeerae's body felt like a warm, soft blanket upon him. A very attractive one, at that. A strange one too. Whereas Vyla had challenged Ronav's preconceptions of Sirens, Zeerae stood on course to completely blow them away. On the surface, at least. Ronav wasn't yet convinced that this new creature would find herself incapable of great cruelty. 

Later, Ronav decided. Thoughts too complicated for the here and now. Instead he let fatigue take hold as the rhythmic movements of Zeerae's hips rocked him to sleep. 

=== 

The beats were growing slower. Thud. Thud... Thud. After waiting a while longer for confirmation, Zeerae felt satisfied that the Taigin had succumbed to the lethargy clinging to his body like sap. 

She turned to liquid, reformed her clothes and slid sideways off of Ronav, then flowed to her feet. There Zeerae stared down at her lover and his semi-hard cock. She had needed that, immensely so. Never again did she plan to go so long without sex, especially not when forced to listen to the cries of another couple. Sirens were a passionate race when it came to all things flesh and it felt uncomfortable to have been forced into abandoning that for so long. 

Now there was business to attend elsewhere. The second floor, specifically. Zeerae took one final glance at her lay, promising that she would return for another taste, before exiting the parlor and moving upstairs. She paused outside the door to Vyla's room. "Are you awake?" she asked to warn of her imminent entering. 

"I am now," came the reply. 

Zeerae pulled open the cream-colored door and stepped inside to find Vyla sitting in the wooden bath that stood in one corner, purposed for exactly this situation. Like before, the Tomateless only bothered to form the top half of her body. The rest swirled around in the lukewarm water. Zeerae dragged the chair from a pristine writing desk in one corner and sat beside her fellow Siren. 

"From that smell I take it you've had your way with the Shasling?" Vyla said before Zeerae could get a word in. 

"We've more to talk about than that." 

Vyla rolled her eyes. "Can it not wait?" 

Zeerae sucked in a breath. "Southsea Sirens?" 

"Right..." Vyla slid down against the side of her bath and rested her arms upon the rim. 

"I will not break your deceit that such a people exist but you will be truthful to me." Zeerae leaned in, her eyes turning the venomous green of fury in the face of defiance. "Where, and for what purpose, are you really traveling?"



Arms of the Ocean Ch. 09



Ronav awoke to a soft shape lying atop him. A wet sensation surrounded his cock which, he slowly realized, stood fully erect. As everything came into focus, Ronav was greeted by a front-row view of Zeerae's bare, pink pussy, her legs laying on either side of his head. 

"Wha...?" was all that Ronav could manage. 

"Ah, you're awake," said Zeerae without ceasing her sucking. "I've brought you breakfast in bed. Now hurry up as we've a busy day ahead." 

The slurping on Ronav's cock toned up and he felt Zeerae form a second tongue to wrap around his tip as it slid in and out of her mouth. Despite having been awake mere seconds, Ronav found the faculties to grab hold of the Siren's shapely hips and pull her in where he began licking her soft, moist folds. 

This marked the first time that Ronav had ever experienced an act such as this. A Siren thing? he wondered momentarily before his slowing made Zeerae push herself against his mouth. Back to the eating out, thinking and questions could come later. 

Ronav trailed his tongue across the Siren's clit and dipped momentarily into her slickened chasm, eliciting a squeal, before continuing its journey down and back again. Meanwhile Zeerae had brought her still-enlarged breasts into play. Their soft, pillowy shapes threatened to drown Ronav's cock while Zeerae's long tongues slid up the bottom and top of his shaft. 

Soon Ronav took to simply spiraling around the Siren's clit as that seemed to bring the loudest gasps from his partner. They ate one another almost as if it were a race to see who could get the other off faster. The slightest of nibbles upon Zeerae's nub brought a shiver up her body which she channeled into ripples on Ronav's cock. 

"That's it... almost," Zeerae panted. It felt as though ribs had formed in her mouth as she bobbed up and down, driving her lover closer and closer to a morning release. 

"Mmm..." Ronav hummed, his lips wrapped around the Siren's clit. 

"Ooh." Zeerae's body began to tremble and her legs shook as she came. The same as earlier, she went into overdrive in her efforts to make her partner come too. 

Despite trying to hold out, Ronav soon found himself spurting under the assault upon his cock. The pulsing of Zeerae's mouth, cushion of her breasts and swirling of her tongues proved too much once again. The Siren sucked down every blast of Ronav's seed as he fired again and again down her throat. 

"Aah," Zeerae sighed once both their glows had passed the peak. She rolled off of him, her breasts jiggling as she slid to the floor, and began gingerly fingering herself to the fading of her orgasm. "Few things beat a morning climax." 

Ronav sat up and cringed as his back shouted expletives for a night on the floor. His head throbbed too but the blowjob had done its best to numb his senses. Still, not the smartest of places to sleep. At least the events before it had been wild.  

"You were helping me with that, weren't you," said Ronav. 

"You don't believe that you could make a girl come so easily, huh?" Zeerae replied. Her finger left her pussy and she licked it clean. "I helped a little. But this was nice and next time I've such an itch I hope you'll volunteer to scratch it." 

"You don't need to worry about that." Ronav got to his feet and stepped over the Siren to gather up his discarded clothes. "Is this the first time you've been with a... with a land dweller, I guess." 

Zeerae snorted a laugh. "No, of course not." 

"But it's the first time you haven't had to be anything but a Siren, right?" Ronav asked as he located his pants. He sniffed them first and recoiled immediately. There needed to be some serious bathing in his future. 

"Again, no. Although you are the first to know what I do on land." 

"Isn't that dangerous? Revealing your identity to so many people? I mean, you're supposed to be a spy or something, right?" 

Zeerae shook her head as she sat up. "What are they going to do? They only know my face or my name," she explained. Then she stood and a set of clothes materialized on her body. A short-sleeved shirt with a slight cut around the neck and a sensible set of leggings. Her breasts shrank back to their previous size, too. Zeerae sighed as she brought a strand of hair around for inspection and sent it through several color changes, eventually deciding on a simple blonde. "But my name is not my name and my face is not my face." 

Ronav frowned at those words. "So you're not really who you say you are, even now?" 

Zeerae smiled. "I'm a Shasteless. Everything else you'll have to decide for yourself. Now perhaps it is time to see if the grumpy little invalid is awake." 

=== 

"That is what we will be flying on?" Vyla exclaimed as one of their mounts emerged from its stable, led by a boy who couldn't be more than ten. 

"I thought you wanted to fly from the beginning," said Ronav. In truth, he didn't feel especially comfortable about this either. A flight with Yis had initially been nerve-wracking enough. But these were animals and would no doubt take even less consideration for their passengers. 

The two of them leaned against a guard rail that ran around Shadetree Fold's sky stable, situated in a cleared slope of forest on the other side of the southernmost hill. Vyla's condition had improved remarkably since the day before, though she still appeared to find it taxing when standing unassisted for too long. They'd been waiting nearly ten minutes already and she had only just resigned to taking some weight off her feet. 

"True, Shasling, I wanted to fly, but I had hoped that our mounts would at least have wings." 

Ronav shrugged. "Vouiareli are a bit like Chayli, I guess." 

Across the wooden plateau, Zeerae was busy inspecting the first of the beasts. Ronav had seen such creatures in the past, though never this close. Vouiareli. Litides for sky snake. The similarities to the Chayli were obvious but only in how the two flew. Each snake ran about fifteen to twenty feet long. The one that Zeerae was presently with had a crimson underbelly that steadily changed to a pale orange as its scales took over on top. It swam through the air like an eel through water, coiling around and rippling its body as it flashed its tongue in and out. The means of its flight could be seen around its neck. There grew a leathery frill, in the same color scheme, from which sprouted six spines, each roughly a foot in length with four on top and two beneath. They looked virtually identical to the wind blades of the Chayli. Another pair, Ronav noticed when the snake swam upwards as though presenting itself, grew in a fork from the end of its tail. 

"Pray tell, what does one hold onto?" Vyla asked, her eyes locked to the serpent's slick-scaled back. 

"I imagine they're going to put a saddle on it." 

"Mm," the Siren hummed. 

Meanwhile the stableboy was reemerging with a second snake that he led towards the flight master. This one had an azure scaling and an indigo underbelly. Ronav couldn't guess at what the colors might mean or why there seemed to be such a variance. Perhaps they were like horses in that respect, each coat marking a subtle difference in the physical attributes of the animal. Or maybe not... Ronav realized then that he didn't know all that much about horses either. 

Zeerae shifted her attention to the new snake and she ran a hand across its leathery stomach. Ronav had no idea what she was looking for. Though watching her reminded him of something he needed to mention. 

"Vyla," Ronav began. He looked at the blond-haired Siren, currently in her Neynas disguise. A keen eye could see that the skin color wasn't quite right. Not enough to be suspicious but enough so that someone close to her might detect the discomfort she was in. "Zeerae and I—" 

"I know," she said, looking away again. 

"You're not mad? Zeerae said that you wouldn't mind but I wasn't sure. Not after... you know, what we did the other day." 

Vyla rolled her eyes back towards him. "The other day? What we had, sye, was a moment of fun, nothing more." 

Ronav held his tongue on arguing that the time they had spent had been slightly longer than a moment. Her words stung despite him being uncertain as to what the status of their relationship amounted to. Things seemed to be rather complex at the moment but that may be attributed to the sudden and detailed plunge into facets of Siren society. Nothing to do, he decided, but let things continue to play out however they did. After all, he couldn't find the strength for anything significant until they finally reached this Southsea Siren. 

"We're ready for you!" Zeerae called from across the platform. 

Vyla huffed forwards and Ronav followed. 

"You're sure you're okay?" he asked. 

"Fine," the Siren replied. Her walk began with a bit of a limp but it quickly smoothed out. 

Ronav reached the third in their party with a degree of hesitation. His eyes refused to stray from the Vouiareli. Several spear-like teeth jutted downwards from their mouths and their eyes held nothing but a predatorial interest. 

Just like the Sirens, Ronav realized and he found it strange that this should somehow relax him. 

Also present was the flight-master, the stable boy and a Chayli man who had just floated down from the treetops. He wore a thick, leather jacket and pants along with a set of goggles that presently sat mussing up his short, brown hair. 

"This is Nimtith, he'll be your other whipper," the flight-master explained with a nod to the Chayli. 

"Our other what?" Ronav blurted out. 

"Whipper," Zeerae answered. "A person who flies Vouiareli." 

"And since miss Sae here has her license, you'll only need the one." 

Ronav's head swam for a moment until he realized that miss Sae meant Zeerae. Then a new problem emerged, how and why did she have a license? 

Ronav's eyes met the Siren's and she flashed the briefest of smiles before a wing blade upon her back folded out from her clothing and into view. He almost gasped at that sight, when had she begun masquerading as a Chayli? Not when they left the house, Ronav felt certain of that much. He also felt certain that such a disguise had to be incredibly reckless. Chayli flew everywhere and, as far as he knew, Siren's couldn't replicate that ability. At least, he hoped not. Anything otherwise was too terrifying to imagine. 

"Uh... that all sounds good then," Ronav said as calmly as he could to all present. "Sae, can I speak to you over here." 

"As you wish." 

The Siren smiled as Ronav led the way out of earshot with Vyla tagging along. 

"What are you thinking?" he hissed once they were at a safe distance. "Pretending to be a Chayli." 

"It wouldn't work otherwise. Chayli are the only race allowed to possess a whipper license," Zeerae explained. 

"But they'll see right through it," 

The Shasteless looked skywards with exhaustion. "There won't be time for that. This is a two day flight, it'll be easy to steer clear of any circumstances where a Chayli choosing not to shoot through the air might seem odd." 

Ronav glanced back and forth between the two Sirens but, as usual, both had their arms folded as they allied against him. "Fine," he sighed. Why not keep pushing their luck? They'd done plenty of that already. "Let's just hope that Yis doesn't mess everything up." 

The three of them had left the Shasteless house wondering when and where their Chayli friend might reappear but each felt confident that she would. Even now, Yis might be watching the proceedings from the treetops somewhere. 

"Can we get a move on?" Zeerae asked as she snapped her fingers in front of Ronav, stirring him from his musings. 

"Huh, right." He blinked. 

"All good then?" the flight master asked once they had returned. 

"Quite." Zeerae nodded. 

"Now, before you set off, there's still the matter of— aha, very good," the man finished as he caught a gold coin, followed by several pieces of silver, out of the air. 

Ronav stared at all the money. A sun, the gold one, and five moons. Few times in his life had he the opportunity to even see such a quantity of cash in such a small format. 

"Alright," the flight master said with a smile once the coins had been safely tucked away. "Let's get you saddled up." 

The stableboy returned then, buried under an armful of saddles which he offloaded onto the deck. From there the three flight workers set about the task of coaxing the sky snakes into holding still long enough to be strapped in. A job that soon explained why each of them seemed to have a suspicious number of scars on their hands and forearms. The process also saw Ronav wishing more and more for Yis to swoop down and offer to somehow carry the three of them. 

"So, who's up first?" the flight master asked once his beasts were ready. 

"Ronav." Vyla looked at him then nodded to the indigo-bellied snake. 

Ronav took a deep breath and let it out again. "If you insist," he said, his voice tense. 

"Right," the flight master began as his first passenger approached. "Just do exactly as I— wait, don't approach head on, come round here. That's the way. Okay now, nice n' quick, while she's on the ground, just swing your right leg over and put it through this strap. There we go, now step your other leg into this one here and— oop, don't worry, she's just getting a feel for you. They tend to wriggle a fair bit at first. Anyway, now you'll want to lean forwards and put your arms either side of her as though you're about to give her a big hug... Perfect, just hold still and we'll get your shoulders wrapped up. Nimtith, get the ones along his back... and... done." 

Ronav looked himself over. Leather straps and harnesses ran all across his body, fastening him securely to the Vouiareli yet not managing to limit movement nearly as much as he had feared. His arms and shoulders were tied up in what looked like a set of thick, short reigns which wrapped around the snake. Ronav could sit upright and look around comfortably but it would take a hurricane to see him removed from the back of his mount. 

Vyla, owing partly to her injuries, which she tried her best to mask as stubbornness, took nearly twice as long to get strapped in. Once finished, Nimtith and Zeerae adeptly took their places on the snakes a short distance in front of each of their passengers. The two Sirens rode the crimson-bellied snake which was already looping its way towards the treetops. 

"She's an eager one," the flight master remarked of Zeerae. "Guess you two'd best get going. Can't have a couple of ladies beat you there, right?" 

Nimtith nodded, cracked his reigns and sent Indigo into an upwards spiral towards the gap in the canopy. They soon burst free of the trees and began the long southern slither through the wind. Ronav looked back at the forest beneath him, expecting to see a flash of movement as Yis began to follow. But there was nothing. 

=== 

"I dunno, Trym, it's sounding like a lost cause to me," said the yellow-haired man sitting next to the hooded person who seemed to be called Trym. 

Yis' focus flashed back to the hood and the eyes painted on it. Although they weren't really eyes as such. The white cloth had been marked with a pair of dark blue teardrops that turned lighter near the edges and slanted diagonally towards one another. The effect made the man look perpetually angry yet also entrancing. Ordinarily, Yis would have darted away and hidden in the trees for a while but this hooded man was the first person she had encountered who had actually listened to her. 

She'd flown all around Shadetree Fold in search of help, trying to communicate with anyone who looked like they could fight. There had been loads of people dressed in shiny clothes, all the same. None of them had been able to understand her. Only when she had landed on a rooftop, ready to give up, did she meet Trym coming out of the door beneath. 

"I'm getting there," Trym said as he stroked his chin. "Slowly... again." That last he directed to Yis, accompanied with the opening and closing of his hand in a manner that looked like a snake or a swan flapping its mouth. A sign that he wanted her to speak some more. 

Yis had already done quite a bit of speaking in this dull, wooden room, through which the hums of the hundred people in that drinking place elsewhere could be heard. She complied with the request all the same. Anything to get somebody to recognize the danger that her friend was in. "Tuuse cur Sirens uuse," she said, there are Sirens here. This time Yis kept her words far simpler and fewer than the multitude of previous attempts. Hopefully it would help the people understand. 

"Aha," said Trym and he clapped his hands together. "See, right there. She said Sirens. And those other words, I think I'm getting them too. What do you say, Glade?" 

Yis' eyes moved to the person on the other side of Trym. Her hair reached down to her waist and, like Ronav's, it was brown yet speckled with flecks of green. She presently sat with her arms folded and a stern glower pointed at Yis. An imposing woman who gave the sense of someone doing her utmost to make Yis afraid. 

"I think..." Glade began as she tilted her head to the other side. "That just because you're a Ralta, a self-professed master of sound and language, doesn't mean you're going to figure out her ravings." 

Trym waved her off. "You just haven't been in the game long enough. The ones I went after solo sounded a lot like this young lady when they felt inclined to speak." 

"So how come we've never gotten a word out since?" the yellow-haired man asked. 

Trym faced his friend. "Well Blondie, you tell me. Do you, perchance, recall me saying 'no, let her live', 'don't kill that one yet', 'give her a chance to speak', or, my favourite, 'why can't you ever capture one alive?' hmm? Do you remember all that?" 

Blondie crossed his arms. "My names not Blondie," he grumbled. 

"I'm telling you, this girl here's our ticket to figuring out their tongue. I'm getting a pattern from her." He hunched over a little and rolled one hand in front of his forehead. "It's all painting itself together up here. It's like spellwords for any Ralta, the meanings give themselves to us eventually. You just have to be willing to sit and listen long enough. Now, Yis, where are the Sirens?" 

Yis startled slightly when she realized that he was addressing her again. "Quol?" she asked as she cocked her head. 

Both of Trym's friends groaned and sagged in their seats. Trym, however, nodded and cupped his chin. "Quol..." he said thoughtfully. 

=== 

The air up here felt worse than even the nastiest of winter storms that had ever battered Ripples on the Water. Ronav squeezed his eyes closed as tight as he could and wished that he could clamp the lids together just a little bit more. Any second now the skin on his face would crack like ice and crumble away. 

This is why Yis hadn't flown at full speed earlier. Ronav mutely wished to himself that the stables back in Shadetree Fold had had the decency to provide him with his own set of goggles. And a scarf. And a set of warmer clothes. In the millisecond spasms that Ronav could keep his eyes open, he saw Nimtith looking quite comfortable as he drove Indigo through the air. 

Unable to take anymore, Ronav reached forwards and tapped the Chayli on the shoulder. Immediately he felt the snake slowing down as Nimtith pulled back on the reigns. 

"There a problem?" he asked once their speed had reduced to a gentle glide, Indigo coiling up and down to keep airborne. 

"Th— the wind," Ronav stuttered. 

Nimtith twisted around and took one look at his passenger before stifling a laugh. "You've been sitting upright, haven't you? Nah, what do you think the arm harnesses are for? You're supposed to be lying down and hugging the snake. Keep your head on one side, pointed at the ground, and the wind will shoot right past." 




Arms of the Ocean Ch. 09



"Wh—why didn't you—" 

"Sorry, by now all this is second nature to me." Nimtith shrugged. "I'd've thought Blost'd go through it with you. Guess he forgot too." 

"What's the hold up?" Zeerae asked as she swerved round to join them, her hands wrapped in the reigns of the crimson snake. 

"A little trouble with the wind, that's all." 

Zeerae smiled and pulled her goggles back over her eyes. Where those had come from, Ronav didn't know. Presumably they existed of her body. 

"If it is not too much trouble," Vyla began, her tone tense. "I would like to land soon." 

Ronav's heart went out to the other Siren upon Crimson. She currently had her body hugged in close to the snake yet even then she looked frigid and uncomfortable. The sky must be the furthest thing imaginable from the sea. Something to ask about later. 

"It's barely been an hour. We've some ways to go yet," said Nimtith as he stared into the distance. 

From so high up, the world somehow seemed much smaller. The great forest of the north stretched back the way they had come, rising steadily from the sea before vanishing almost immediately over a long, sheer cliff that ran beneath them. Then came the scattered woods and hillside country that marked the top-most borders of the empire's heartlands. Ronav could spy a large lake over to the west and several streaks of water that ran in and out of it, though he knew none of their names. A dotted patch of civilization sat upon the lake's nearest shore along with the occasional farmhouse littering the countryside surrounding. 

"An hour," Vyla groaned. 

Zeerae looked over her shoulder at her fellow Siren. "We should note, Nimtith, that our passengers are green to the air. Perhaps a rest is in order." 

"Alright." Nimtith shrugged and gripped the reigns as he kicked Indigo into the beginnings of a descent with Zeerae close behind. "Just remember that you're paying by time and we're spending at least one night under the stars." 

"That will not be a problem," said Zeerae. After that she shifted her snake into high gear and sped towards the ground. 

Ronav could only grip the scaly hide of his mount as they descended. He caught a flash of Vyla's clenched-up face when she zoomed by but nothing more. The only company and relief he had came in the reassurance that they would soon be back on the ground. Whatever novelty there had once been in flying had long since passed. Two days and he had already seen enough cloud tops for a lifetime. 

"Looks like we're making for Teeburr Lake," Nimtith shouted over his shoulder. "They have some good freshwater fish there. Course, you probably wouldn't be interested in that." 

Ronav silently agreed. Right now his only interest amounted to a firm patch of earth beneath his feet. Several wind-shorn minutes passed before that desire became a reality. Ronav struggled and twisted out of the binding harness, with some help from his whipper, and threw himself upon the ground. 

Once Ronav felt that he had sufficiently refamiliarized himself with the dirt, he stood and took in the surroundings of their landing place. They were near a wheat field, gathered outside the fence that encompassed it. A dirt road ran a short distance to the north of them, stretching towards the town of Teeburr. 

While Ronav got his bearings, Nimtith took the reigns of both their mounts and flew to the top of a nearby tree where he hitched them to the stronger-looking branches. Crimson, immediately realizing that rest time had come, lay softly upon the foliage while its indigo brother took watch. 

So graceful, Ronav noted. Strange, considering how large and heavy the beasts must be. 

"What's say we take a look around town?" Zeerae suggested. "See if they've good food to be had." 

"Yes. With any luck we can have Ronav fighting for it again," Vyla added. 

Unlike Ripples on the Water, Teeburr's source of trade did not seem quite so exclusively dependent on fishing. As the four of them descended the gentle hillside towards the lake town, Ronav spied several vessels on the water but also a herd of livestock being driven through the streets. The dense forests and harsh, salty air around his home made such forms of farming difficult. 

One of the rivers feeding into the lake ran right through Teeburr. Patches of green where willows grew among the buildings could be seen from a distance. The weeping trees spanned the shores and banks far beyond the town, fanning out occasionally where the ground became marshy and soft with water. 

Nimtith, who had begun to walk ahead, drifted back to them slowly. "If you three don't mind, I've got some family I've meant to visit for a while." 

Zeerae smiled at the man. "Go right ahead, dear. But don't be too long or we may want for company." 

Nimtith nodded and shot off with a blast of air that kicked up dust along the road. 

"Quite rugged for a Chayli," Zeerae remarked once their fourth was nothing more than a dot in the sky. 

Not quite sure why, Ronav felt a tinge of jealousy at those words. The thought that Zeerae could seek another so readily and so soon after the way their morning had gone. Yet she had been quite clear as to the casual nature of their session. "You're planning to—" 

"Perhaps," Zeerae answered simply. "But why should you care. Don't you and Vyla have something going? Where am I to fit in except as a side dish?" 

Ronav glanced at Vyla who met his eyes and he felt his skin flush warm. It didn't seem as though her look had anything in it yet there had to be something there. 

Argh, Ronav groaned to himself. His time with Zeerae had complicated things. How could he have ever thought otherwise? But, on the other hand, why did that even matter? Wasn't the whole purpose of this journey to find the Southsea Siren who had saved his life and filled his dreams for so many months? At once Ronav resolved to find a time as soon as possible when he could sit down with Vyla and talk about... who knows what. Part of him suspected that, had the past few days been stretched out over weeks or more, he would have better recognized how remarkably screwed up this partnership had become. If it had ever been healthy in the first place. 

"Ronav," Vyla called. 

He glanced up, snapping from his thoughts, and realized that the Sirens now walked several dozen paces ahead of him. 

"Are you going to join us or do you plan to stay there and block the road?" 

"Right," Ronav managed and he commanded his legs to move again. 

=== 

Vyla lifted the bowl that had held a stew minutes ago and licked clean the smears of meaty gravy that remained. She let the flavor and spice roll through her mouth before her body set upon it. Nothing slid down her throat for she didn't have one at the moment. Instead it slowly diffused throughout her body. 

"Easier than the pig's leg?" Zeerae asked, leaning her chair back so that it rested against the wall. 

Vyla glowered at her fellow Siren. Yes they needed Zeerae with them but that didn't mean she had to feel happy about it. Nor did it mean that the Shasteless had to make herself as irritating as possible. "Somewhat so," Vyla answered. "But I told them to keep out any plants. Why were there still leaves in it?" 

The leaves in question now occupied the space near Ronav's bowl. One that had contained a porridge-like substance called chiopi. She didn't know what was in it but it smelled disgusting. 

"Those were haal petals, not leaves. They're used for flavoring," Ronav explained. 

"They should have taken them out, I almost choked." Vyla pushed her bowl away and slouched against the back of her seat. "And I caren't for flavor at the present." 

Neither of her companions sought to continue the conversation so Vyla's eyes took to wandering. This place they had found was some sort of business where people came to eat and nothing more. No such thing existed among the Sirens. It reminded Vyla of The Blood Bowl, yet it lacked anything interesting to watch. Nor did it offer rooms to travelers. Ja's Lakefront it was called. True to the title, it sat overlooking Teeburr lake. The part of the building in which the three of them had dined even stood on stilts over the water and offered a detailed view of tiny waves rolling in the wind. 

To Vyla's left the shore ran as gritty sand for a while before rising on stone into a sharp cliff face. A manor sat at the top, some thirty meters up, with twin spires threatening to pierce the sky. An imposing sight from beneath, though the structure looked in need of some touching up. 

"Are there lake... Sirens?" Ronav suddenly asked in a whisper, his eyes fixed to the water. 

Zeerae laughed as she replied. "Of course not, there's so little space. Though I wouldn't mind going for a swim in there later. Perhaps you'd like to join me?" 

"I..." 

Ronav looked at Zeerae, then to Vyla who let nothing show. "Go, sye, and perhaps I'll come too." 

"Are you sure you're up to it?" asked Zeerae, sounding like a mother talking down to a child. 

"Water will do me good after that nightmare in the sky." 

"Actually," Ronav chimed in and immediately felt the gaze of both Sirens upon him. "Count me out. It'll be freezing this time of year. Or any time..." 

"What instead?" Vyla asked. 

"Let us walk." Zeerae stood and flowed away from the table. 

Minutes later they had paid and emerged alongside the dirt streets of Teeburr. This town, Vyla felt relieved to have discovered, had wooden boardwalks on the roadsides to keep one's feet from getting muddy. Save for people crossing, this resulted in very little foot traffic getting in the way of carts. Unfortunately this also meant far more pedestrians to contend with on the paths. 

"Have you been here before?" Ronav asked their Shasteless escort. 

"Once. Briefly." 

During an operation, Vyla guessed. 

"It was raining at the time." Zeerae continued with a shiver. "Miserable. You probably find that strange, considering. It's because— oh, I'll explain later, let's go in here." 

Vyla only had a moment to catch the name of the store they were entering as her two companions swept their way inside. Maethli's Worldly Oddities read the sign in a window that appeared to be coated in a thick layer of grime. From the streaks and fingermarks on the inside of the glass, Vyla guessed that the filth might have been for atmospheric purposes. 

The inside of the establishment had poor, candle lighting and musty air, creating a dank, cavernous sense about it. Shelves ran in all directions with no obvious order in place. Upon each were objects that struggled for Vyla's eye. Horns of animals, curious figurines, things in jars and polished stones, to name a mere fraction of the range. What purpose any of it served eluded Vyla. 

"These sorts of places always have something interesting to find," Zeerae explained. 

"May I help you, sir and madams?" asked a man, who had to be Maethli, as he materialized out of the gloom. A stark contrast to his store, Maethli was dressed and groomed impeccably. His white hair, with an unnatural streak of blue through the center, had been neatly combed back and his trim, tailored clothes looked as if they would be sullied beyond redemption at the slightest touch from any of his products. 

"We're browsing for now," Zeerae answered without paying the man much mind. 

"Well, allow me to inform you that I've just received a shipment of trophies from the Ursare jungles. Fine quality all round. They're on the far shelf, just that way." Maethli pointed to one end of the store before fading back into the candlelit dark. 

With him gone, Vyla returned to drifting her gaze over the products. Much of it had to be used purely as superstitious tokens and such. The jars of preserved animal parts looked to serve a more alchemical purpose. Parg skin, Vouiareli scales, powdered bear claws, pickled venom sacs from a spine devil... 

Vyla froze as her eyes fell upon the label and contents of the next jar. She clenched her hands into fists and ground her teeth together. Her body wanted to boil with fury. Instead she reached out and tore off the label. A quick check of the surrounding shelf revealed no other items of the kind. 

"Zeerae," she called, her tone flat as she fought back red emotion. "Come look at this." 

Seconds later the Shasteless appeared next to her. "What have you— what is that doing here?" Zeerae asked with venom in her words. 

"What's what doing here?" Ronav joined them and peered at the jar. 

Vyla smiled on the inside. Without the label the Shasling had no idea what they had found. So, despite Zeerae's preaching, she hadn't shown herself skinless to him. 

"Ah, I see you ladies have an eye for intrigue." Maethli reemerged from around the shelf. "Oh dear, has the label fallen off already? Well, I'm sure it goes without saying that this would be a one of a kind purchase..."  

Vyla's hands lengthened to claws behind her back. Then she felt Zeerae's touch and she relaxed, albeit reluctantly. 

"... It would make an excellent tonic, prepared properly. Or you could simply keep it as a trophy," Maethli chattered on. 

"Hold up, I'm missing something. What is it?" Ronav pointed to the fleshy organ, swimming in brine. 

"Oh, my apologies sir, I thought you were on the same page as madams. It's a Siren's heart, my good man." 

Vyla felt the slightest hint of amusement at the expression she caught flitting across Ronav's face. 

"A Siren's heart?! Are you— I mean, is it wise keeping such a thing?" he asked. 

Maethli brushed off the concern. "We're leagues from the sea. There're no Sirens around these parts. Besides, they'd be biting off more than they can chew in trying to get this back. More to my store than meets the eye." 

"But what about—" 

"Oh, heavens," Zeerae gasped over the top of Ronav. "Look at the light, I've let the hour get away from us. Come, we've a schedule to keep." Zeerae grabbed the hands of both her companions and made a show of hastily maneuvering towards the door. 

"Ah, ladies," Maethli called after them. "Did you not wish to purchase this fine curio?" 

Zeerae twisted over her shoulder and smiled. "Yes indeed but we've not the time now." 

"Of course. Then I look forward to your return." 

"Count on it," the Shasteless muttered as her eyes returned to the exit and her lips thinned to a malicious grin. 

The air outside felt bracingly thin after the tension indoors. On the wooden walk the two Sirens clutched Ronav, already desperate for answers in the way he tried to free himself, and moved to one side of the windows. 

"Not yet," they both warned him. A lot of talking needed to happen now but they needed privacy too. 

What resulted had to be the least comfortable-looking trio of friends who had ever walked arm in arm through the streets of Teeburr. Their feet fell briskly, Ronav at last accepting the need to get far from earshot of any but they. 

A grim walk, from Vyla's point of view, and she knew that Zeerae felt the same way. Their eyes never strayed from the path ahead, the only drive being to get out of town. 

After what seemed like an eternity, the marks of civilization began to wane. Houses became fewer and more dilapidated and the road looked poorer kept. The boardwalk had long since vanished and their feet made the occasional squish through muddied ground. Then, with a deep breath, they finally reached what could be called countryside and privacy. 

Even then, out in the open with nobody to sneak up, Zeerae pushed onwards. She moved off the road and marched through a broken section of fence. They stomped across a bare field and only stopped upon reaching a spot where the land fell down a rock face. The mossy boulders and exposed stone would be their shelter for conspiracy. 

Ronav broke free of Zeerae's grasp and held up his hands. "Okay, now—" 

"Hush," both Sirens snarled. They then looked at one another. 

"Itri shari ch maar cha atri," said Vyla. That fool will die for this. 

"Tebast," Zeerae agreed. 

"Quer-quir ka sye eska i Siren kovotrae." Vyla folded her arms. Why and how does he have a Siren heart? 

"Look, can we stop with the Siren speak?" Ronav asked before Zeerae could get in. 

Vyla glared at him. Part of her wanted the Taigin to leave them to the business of the sea yet another part wanted him to stay and watch. Let Ronav be reminded of a Siren's fury. 

"Very well," Zeerae conceded. Then she returned to addressing Vyla. "I don't know how he has it but I can guess. No doubt he's not had it for long, a couple of days at the most. Any longer and I would question why the resident Siren's haven't found it yet and dealt with him themselves. Now it falls to us." 

"Falls to— falls to us?" Ronav stammered. "You're going to kill him?" 

"A kinder fate than he deserves," said Vyla. 

When Ronav found no comfort in those words he turned to Zeerae. "I thought you were going to put a stop to the killing." 

"This is different," she explained. "Some wretch has slain a sister and now Maethli puts her heart on display as some trophy." 

"But your kind kills all the time!" 

Zeerae closed her eyes a moment, exhaled then flitted them open again. "Think of it like this, we kill for good reason. First, our people are at war. Yes it is a cold and foolish war but it is there. We kill the Shaslings who invade our oceans and steal our fish. And when we kill them we are quick. We return their bodies to soil and water as fast as we can so that their spirits may move with haste to whatever lies beyond, be it paradise or screaming void. We take no trophies. But Maethli? He has done the opposite. He has humiliated that poor sister and forced her to stay in this world beyond her duty. For that, he and his accomplices must pay." 

"You're going to kill him and there's no way to stop you," said Ronav, his face grim with resignation. 

"Would you feel the same way were you to find a Taigin's scalp above somebody's mantle piece?" Vyla asked. 

"I wouldn't go after the person myself. The law can handle it." 

"And here I am the law," said Zeerae. 

"Wait." A hand went to Ronav's forehead suddenly as he thought. "What if the whole thing is part of some Shasteless operation? I mean, you can't know about... all of..." 

Zeerae's head shaking trailed Ronav off and Vyla knew why. Siren law was crystal clear on this subject. Any creature who kills a sister must die. Any involved must die. Any who take parts of a sister, for any purpose, must die. Being a Siren sometimes gave immunity to these laws but never did any military operations grant immunity to a Shasling. If Maethli had been of any importance, he would have known not to anger his betters in such a way, 

Once Zeerae had finished explaining this to Ronav, he opened his mouth to offload some new protest. "At least don't eat him." 

Vyla frowned. He accepted this death so readily but not her plans for Lady Telra? "You've nothing else to say against us?" 

"Nothing other than that." 

Vyla raised her eyebrows in search of explanation. 

A sigh escaped Ronav's lips as he continued. "Maybe he does deserve this. Is it so impossible for you to be right? Ka knows you always seem to think you are." 

Zeerae folded her arms. "Bold words Shasling. He will die tonight and we will let his body go to waste." 

"Fine." Ronav began trudging back towards the road. "Just keep me completely out of it... Tired of all this." 

Zeerae looked at her accomplice and half smiled at the Taigin's concern. Vyla forced herself to reciprocate the act. In truth, Ronav's last words had troubled her somewhat. But there could be no time for that now. Maethli had a feat of disappearance to perform. 




Arms of the Ocean Ch. 09



=== 

"We're back!" Glade shouted as she burst into the room, pushing the door to slam against the limit of its hinges. 

"Shh," Trym hissed. Then he pointed to the top of the wardrobe in the corner. 

Yis' heart raced with panic. She and Trym had been having such a nice discussion when his friends came crashing in. For a while she had totally forgotten why Shadetree Fold, or any place with loads of people, had ever been scary. Now it all came rushing back. These people were so sudden, noisy and unpredictable. 

"Yis, uh..." Trym paused and massaged his forehead. "Uh, what was it... oh, down." The last word he spoke in her native tongue, though the emphasis and accent were both a little off. 

"Teb." Yis gently floated back down from the wardrobe and landed in her chair. 

Trym then twisted over his shoulder to face the stunned pair that had just entered. "I told you I'd get there. It may have taken half the day but patience is a virtue," he said, going back to the funny language shared with Ronav. 

"So you understand each other? Have you learned what she knows about Sirens?" Glade asked as she strode over and took a seat. 

"I wouldn't call it understanding. We're getting there. Still a ways off talking about Sirens. But the more I learn, the faster I learn it." Trym then returned his attention to Yis as he pointed to Glade. "Yis... uh, Siren su... Siren su... hassli Glade." 

Yis looked at the woman that Trym had just introduced as Glade. She already knew that, of course, but it was exciting that her new friend was making so much progress. "Fril Glade," said Yis with a smile and a wave. 

"That means hello." Trym twisted around and beckoned the blonde-haired man over. "Sye su hassli Blondie." 

"My name isn't Blondie!" the man shouted as he sat down. 

Yis jumped in fright but relaxed again when the blue teardrops on Trym's hood fell upon her. "Fril Blondie," she said. 

The Neynas groaned and jabbed a finger at Yis. "My name's not Blondie, it's—" 

"Hush." Trym beckoned for silence. "We were busy speaking before the two of you came crashing back in and I was making a lot of progress. Now kindly be quiet and let me get back to it." 

Blondie leaned back, crossed his arms and grumbled something to himself. 

Tyrm faced Yis again and a smile appeared on his lips. It looked odd without any accompanying eyes. How could he even see with his hood pulled down so far? "What, uh... were us saying?" he asked in her dialect. 

Yis held back her laughter at his words. "Where are your eyes?" she asked, slow and clear to give him the best chance at understanding. 

Trym's hood shifted with a frown underneath. A few seconds later the miniscule folds undid themselves as understanding dawned. 

=== 

The water made little splits and slaps as a pebble shot across river, dipping down to kiss the surface with growing frequency as its flight wore on. Finally its momentum proved too slow and the next touch saw it claimed by the currents. 

Ronav stared at the ripples underneath which the stone had vanished. He imagined the same thing happening to him. In a way, it already had. One chaotic event after another, each growing worse and more problematic as this adventure continued. Their finding Yis, Vyla revealing herself to Lady Telra then wanting to kill her, Zeerae showing up out of the blue. Now the Sirens had gone off to kill Maethli and Ronav had barely tried to stop them. 

What would I have done? he asked the aether. Fighting wasn't an option. Raising the guards would also bring suspicion on himself. The fiasco in Shadetree Fold was repeating looping round for another run. Except this time, Ronav didn't find himself caring so much about the victim. Mostly because Telra hadn't struck him as such an obnoxious individual from the get go. Besides, if Vyla and Zeerae didn't do the killing, some other Shasteless would. Maethli had marked himself for death the second he acquired that heart, the Sirens had been crystal clear. 

So why do I feel like this? Ronav wondered. With a groan he sank down and sat upon the riverbank, resting his back against a willow tree. Their campsite stood a few minutes away, up a gentle hill and hidden in a copse of trees. Nimtith had returned earlier and was supposedly getting some sort of dinner prepared before night fell fully upon them. As far as their whipper knew, Vyla and Zeerae had balked at the thought of roughing it and intended to search town for a better option 

Somewhat macabre, Ronav's thoughts turned back to the pebble and he found himself wondering when it might be his turn to sink beneath the river. 

A sigh of exasperation escaped Ronav as he lazily flung the last of the pebbles into the river. His Siren friends had been gone nearly an hour now. Tonight the people of Teeburr may find themselves woken from slumber by the town's alarm bells. 

=== 

"There, the lights have grown dimmer, he is closing." Zeerae's shape reverted from the pile of refuse she had been disguised as and she flowed to her feet. 

Vyla, presently a barrel, did the same. Nobody had bothered them during their spying in this alleyway across from Maethli's store. No Shaslings had enough care or perception to give a second glance at the objects that, to a Siren, would have looked somewhat out of place. 

"Come," Zeerae said as she strode across the now-barren street. 

Vyla gritted her teeth as she followed. She still didn't like it, but bending to the commands of this Shasteless was proving easier than earlier. After all, the Shasteless did command jurisdiction of all things land. And, in her present state, Vyla didn't feel capable of leading the charge, so to speak. Her shapeshifting still felt sluggish and a large mass of flesh in her core continued to ignore instruction. Were their target someone other than an idiot Shasling who had gotten deep over his head, her temporary weakness may have been an issue. 

"Locked?" Vyla asked once they reached the door. 

Zeerae tried the handle. "Indeed." She changed the shape of one finger and pushed it into the keyhole. Moments later the door clicked its acceptance. 

If possible, the poor lighting of the store had grown worse with the onset of evening. Vyla had thought that the grimy windows would keep any changes from being noticeable but the shelves and their contents were shrouded in marginally poorer light than before. 

"Who's that?" came Maethli's voice from some room towards the back, followed by his footsteps. Seconds later he came into view. "Oh, it's only you two. Back for the heart, I see. Told you it was one of a kind. I bet you've been thinking about the prize all— wait..." The Neynas' eyes dropped side to side and he frowned. "I locked the door, how did you get in?" 

"The answer is simple..." said Zeerae as she moved forwards. 

Either by some strange foresight or chance alone, Maethli's hands came up in defense. With a flash so fast that not even a blink would be necessary to miss it, they fell to the floor, severed at the wrists. 

"...We're Sirens." 

"Guh," was all that Maethli managed as he stared at his wrists. Twin bloodied stumps that now spurted small gouts of red. His mouth flapped in a shocked struggle to scream. "Haa—" 

Zeerae's right arm flowed forwards and wrapped around Maethli's mouth and head before his volume could rise to anything substantial. Vyla watched as her accomplice's flesh continued to flow and solidify until she had him entangled and mute. His arms were bound at his sides by blackened carapace and his legs could only bend at the knees, barely even that. Their bodies had practically merged into a single, grotesque form. Then Zeerae and Vyla walked with their prize to the back room. 

Maethli had begun to struggle as they sat him down in one corner of his study. If it could be called a study at all. There were scrolls and strips of parchment piled high and few sections of wall went uncovered by shelves. 

Vyla's eyes wandered to the hands of their victim that she presently held in her own. She had scooped them up on the off chance that a passing Shasling might somehow manage to see them through the window grime. 

Maethli grunted in agony past the gag of Zeerae's flesh. All that emerged of his screams were a series of high-pitched hums. 

"You've alcohol around here, no doubt." Zeerae stepped over to a paltry desk and pulled out its drawers. Her body remained entwined with her prisoner and the effect looked rather odd. She had shrunk already, devoting so much of herself to bindings, yet she thinned further the more she moved away. "Aha!" the Shasteless exclaimed, pulling a bottle from behind a pile of books. She then pinched Maethli's nose, tipped his head back and forced the murky bottle into his mouth. 

"What are you doing?" Vyla asked as the man spluttered down the liquid. 

"Booze numbs pain and loosens lips. He won't be much inclined to speak until this kicks in," Zeerae explained. 

The time with Lady Telra had been Vyla's first experience with alcohol and she now understood why. Both its effects were detrimental, especially so among Sirens. No wonder it had never caught on back home. "Wouldn't it have been easier to begin without severing his hands?" Vyla asked as she looked for the bloodied stumps hidden inside the shell of Zeerae's body. 

"Did you wish for him to spout fire at us?" said the Shasteless. Several seconds later she drew the bottle from Maethli's lips and tossed it aside where it landed on a pile of papers. "There, now we need only wait." 

Feeling weary from the evening's events, Vyla pulled out the chair to their captive's desk and sat down in the opposite corner. It took almost twenty-three minutes before Maethli's senses appeared to have dulled sufficiently. Everything but fear. Never during the wait did the fear fade from the Neynas' eyes. That cold, white, sickening fear of an animal gone to slaughter. A man who sees the end so close that he can taste what lies beyond. 

"Now, let us talk." Zeerae sat down in front of Maethli and her legs became the limbs that formed his bonds. 

"P—please don't kill me," he groaned once his gag had flowed away. "I'll give you... everything in the store. The m—money too." 

Zeerae stroked the back of her hand down the man's cheek and he flinched. "Dearest Maethli, we only want one item of your merchandise. You've overdrunk your spirits but I'm sure you can recall to what I am referring." 

"It's yours. Just don't kill me. Please. Please, please, please, I have a family... please..." His head lolled over for a moment before an unseen prod sparked him back. 

"How did you come by it? I know you didn't kill a sister yourself." 

"I don't know who he— Gyah!" 

Maethli cringed and seized up as the parts of Zeerae's body that held him underwent the slightest change. Vyla couldn't tell what went on beneath the surface but it didn't sound pleasant. 

"Okay! Okay!" Maethli cried. He spat and several flecks of blood scattered across the floorboards. "I didn't see his— Haa!" 

Another ripple and another twist in the man's body that loosened again once his cries grew too strong. 

"Please, they'll kill me if I—" 

"And I will kill you now if you don't tell me," said Zeerae, her voice frigid. 

"I don't know his name..." 

Maethli stopped and clamped his eyes shut as if anticipating another wave of agony. This time it appeared that Zeerae believed him and none came. 

"Continue," she said. 

"He came by the s—store one day and had the... heart. Said it would be worth plenty to the right buyer. He had blond hair, like any Neynas. And his, his nose was real pointy and it made his eyes look like they were about to touch..." 

"What else?" Zeerae pressed after her prisoner trailed off. 

"That's all I— Hnngh." 

"Maethli... do you think I am anywhere close to your stupidity. Moments ago you said they. Who and how many others?" 

"A—A Ralta. He didn't come in, though, j—just waited outside. I couldn't see the marks on his hood." Again Maethli clenched his eyes shut in expectance of pain. 

"Think now, stupid one, is there anything else you may wish to share?" 

"No," Maethli answered immediately with a vigorous headshake. "Nothing else, please let me go. Please don't eat my hands. I can get them put back on, I can visit this healer across—" 

"The only place you're visiting, Shasling, is the screaming void." 

"No. No!" If possible, the man's eyes widened further as more fear flooded in. "But you said— you said you wouldn't—" 

"Wrong again. But rest assured, weak thing, I will be far quicker than those you betrayed would have been." 

"N—" 

Whatever Maethli had been about to say was lost by the spine that lashed from Zeerae's arm to pierce through his skull. A swift death, as promised. To do otherwise would be taboo. Slow killings gave time for bystanders to witness and implied some emotional attachment to the act. Neither helped Sirenkind. 

"Finished?" Vyla asked, switching to her native tongue, once her accomplice had disentangled herself and stood up. 

"That part, yes." 

"You believed him?" 

Zeerae's eyes flashed an acidic green. "He would still be alive had he been lying. At least until the truth emerged." 

"And your verdict?" Vyla's tone held blandness to mask her interest. Few Tomateless had a chance to be on board with their land sisters' operations. 

"Less than a pawn, virtually useless to us. The Neynas he met with is of somewhat greater note but I am unsure where the Ralta stands. At the top or another link? We shall see." Zeerae stretched tall then sank down and knelt beside the motionless body of Maethli. "I'm sure you of the Tomateless have had ample meals of Shasling." 

Vyla cocked her head then slipped down to join Zeerae by the corpse. "But we promised Ronav." 

"What he doesn't know cannot hurt him." Zeerae's hand turned to a blade and it sliced a strip of flesh from the Neynas' forearm. She held it above her open mouth. "No sense in letting good meat go to waste." 

In truth, Vyla hadn't ever tasted Shasling before. She would never let Zeerae know but the Tomateless hadn't afforded as many opportunities as she had hoped. Their meat was supposed to be delicious, not just exotic. She watched the bloodied ribbon disappear down the Shasteless' throat and felt her stomach growl. They had been waiting outside so long and she hadn't tasted a fresh kill since that prickly critter in the woods. A promise to Ronav versus one of the most prestigious meats. The choice was obvious.



Arms of the Ocean Ch. 10



Vyla sank beneath the water's surface and let out a long, satisfied sigh. Fresh water, yes, but it unknotted her muscles regardless. A cramped, wooden tub could hardly compare to the sensation of free-flowing currents as they swept and swirled past. 

At first Vyla let herself be carried downriver. A dozen chill hands cradled her naked form as she traveled through the water. Only when her drifting went too far did she intervene and swim back with speed unmatched by all but the fastest of ocean goers. 

Occasionally Vyla felt a fish brush against her. Small ones. Barely worth trying to catch. She planned to regardless but that could wait until her basking had finished. 

Their campsite sat nestled between a crowd of trees nearly a minute away so Vyla felt comfortable that she wouldn't be disturbed. Besides, the river widened here and bordered itself thick with willows where myriad trickles and offshoots muddied the ground. Only through the center did the current have any pull or depth and that is where she swam, hidden in the murkiness beneath the surface. 

Since their killing of Maethli, Vyla had yearned for a swim more than a feast of meat or a session with the pleasure sisters. She needed something to wash the filth off. When hunting Shaslings in the sea, water had always been close at hand. It felt strange to have killed and been forced to wait so long before cleaning. 

The minutes stretched by and eventually saw Vyla laying upon the silt of the riverbed. A minnow nudged her side and, in an instant, found itself speared and swallowed. She took this as her queue and stirred towards the bank. 

Vyla emerged at a crawl in the shape of some nameless, four-legged predator. She melted upright and stretched before returning to her Neynas disguise. 

"Ka's breath!" came a shout from the treetops. 

Vyla's gaze shot upwards in time to catch a blur of movement as it flew through the trees. Nimtith. 

Queen curse me, Vyla hissed to herself. She lashed one arm through the air and several barbs of bone split off. Had she been uninjured, her aim may have been more lethal. Instead the projectiles flew short and lost themselves in the trees. 

Queen curse me, she thought again. She broke into a desperate yet futile sprint after the Chayli. At no point did she pause to mourn the parts of her body that had been lost. They would grow back. 

=== 

Earlier... 

"Madam, for someone who claims to play casually, you are a merciless opponent at pebbles." Nimtith began picking his defeated stones off the criss-crossing square board that they had carved into the dirt. 

"I was trying to be modest," Zeerae replied as she cleared her side for another round. 

"The polite thing to do, I think, would be to forwarn other players of their imminent and crushing defeat." 

"But then I'd scare everyone away." 

Zeerae's eyes moved to Ronav who had been watching silently from beside the fire. Since their triumphant return, the Taigin had been rather quiet. Understandable. At least Nimtith hadn't noticed. 

"Would you care to join us?" Zeerae asked the dejected Shasling. 

Ronav underwent a slight shudder as he snapped out of his wakeful dreaming. "Hmm? Is it my turn?" 

"Your turn to lose, perhaps," Nimtith laughed. With a sigh he then stood and brushed the dirt from his pants before wandering around the fire to his pack. "I don't suppose the bottle of gale's magically unlost itself has it?" 

A smile crossed Zeerae's lips. "Perhaps you nudged it and set it rolling downhill. It could be caught against one of the trees over there." 

Nimtith followed her finger into the darkness and shrugged. "I guess it's worth a shot." 

Zeerae watched the Chayli stride towards the first of the trees and stoop down to inspect their roots. Any second now would come the cry of triumph as Nimtith found the place she had hidden his booze before dinner. 

"So Ronav, shall we—" 

"Aha!" Nimtith shouted into the night. "The slipperiest bottle I've ever encountered. How did you manage to wander all this way?" 

Their whipper returned to the fire, gale held high. 

"Bravo." Zeerae clapped, her eyes on the bottle and the clear liquid that swirled inside. "No, don't open it now, Vyla isn't here." 

"True." Nimtith's right hand released itself from the cork and returned to his side. "She's been at the river a while, hasn't she?" 

"Maybe it's time you fetched her. Then we can get that drink started." 

"Isn't she bathing?" 

Zeerae laughed but not so loud that they might again garner Ronav's wandering attention. "Bathing? In this cold? She might have her feet in the water but anything more for this long and you'll be fetching the drowned." 

"Ah, true. Alright, I'll be back in a second." A gust of wind swept up, flickering the fire, as Nimtith took to the air and disappeared over the tops of the trees surrounding their camp. 

The sudden departure roused Ronav again. "Hmm? Where's he going?" 

"Nature calls," said Zeerae. 

"Oh... so are we playing a round of pebbles or not?" 

Zeerae flashed a razor-toothed smile. "We may yet have a chance later on. First I must brief you on how you will soon be helping me..." 

=== 

Earlier... 

"Hyack," Vyla retched over the small hole she had dug beneath a haal tree. The large mouth that had opened on her abdomen clenched as it gathered the unwelcome contents of her body. 

Several seconds later, a wet slap sounded in the hole as Maethli's swallowed but undigested flesh spilled out from Vyla. She then stooped down and clawed disturbed dirt back into place, even taking care to replant the sprouts she had moved lest the bare ground look suspicious. 

With her work complete, Vyla stood then rested herself against the tree's trunk. The choice had been obvious. 

I made a promise, Vyla reminded herself. I am better than Zeerae for keeping it. 

So why didn't she feel that way? Resisting the urge to even taste Maethli, as she apparently chowed down on his meat, had been a nightmare. Why not give in? As Zeerae had said, what Ronav doesn't know cannot hurt him. 

Both hands went to Vyla's forehead where they began to massage. This day had dragged on far beyond comfort. Awakening with a large chunk of body too damaged to move, that horrifying flight, a killing that she found no joy in. Not to mention the recent suspicion that Zeerae might be planning something. If she ever stopped planning things. 

Vyla was beginning to understand why, back home, the Shasteless, despite their prestige, seemed to command nothing but respect. No friendship or camaraderie. The Shasteless received a stern bow or salute when an individual passed by; never did you talk to or approach one unless duty demanded it. The elite of the elite. Tied to their duties first, their bodies second and their social life dead last, if at all. And the one that Vyla found herself close to had a plot at play that she couldn't even begin to see the workings of. 

"I miss the ocean," Vyla muttered, though she knew those words to be a lie. Then she pulled away from the tree and began trudging back to their camp. Nimtith had dinner served and there was supposed to be a 'treat' of more of this alcohol. Lovely. 

=== 

Earlier... 

"Do the Tomateless still exist purely to wreck Shasling vessels and kill their crew?" Zeerae asked, her voice slicing through the silence of digestion like a coral blade through a whale carcass. 

Vyla blinked out of the musings she had been working through and saw Zeerae picking at something between her teeth. A strange action when one considered that all she really had to do was suck the leftovers into her body. Perhaps a habit picked up from the Shaslings. 

"We've other duties," Vyla answered. 

"But shipwrecking takes most of it, yes?" 

"I suppose so." 

"Mm," Zeerae hummed. Her finger emerged and she examined a pink scrap of Maethli upon it before sucking it back in. "Mere curiosity, to answer your next question." 

Vyla closed her mouth and simmered that she had been predicted. "You don't learn these things yourself?" she asked instead. Shasteless spent the vast majority of their time on land but they still had opportunities to return home.  

"I've not taken leave in some time. When I do I make a point to stay as far from business as possible." 

Vyla nodded, though it still seemed odd that Zeerae could be so far out of the loop. Unless she was playing games, that is. As soon as that thought crossed Vyla's mind, she realized it had to be the case. What game, however, remained inscrutable. 

"What shall we tell Nimtith when we return?" Vyla asked. Her eyes wandered Maethli's study and his remains. Much of his torso was missing and his right arm had been stripped to the bone. Truly a gorging. 

"That the opportunities for civilized bed rest are severely lacking in Teeburr. Now, let me deal with this wretch and we can be off." 

"How do you plan to get him out of town?" Vyla asked as she looked at the man's corpse. Not the largest specimen of Shasling but far too much to smuggle away in any objects that she could spy in the store. No chests large enough like the one she had taken a reluctant ride inside. 

"I think I'll walk him out of here." Zeerae slid over to Maethli's corpse and her body immediately began to ripple with transformation. She flowed once more onto the Neynas' form; this time she didn't stop with binding his mouth and limbs. Zeerae's liquid body steadily wrapped around Maethli, oozing across his front and seeping between his back and the floorboards. The Shasteless' features soon vanished, only to resurface on her victim. One face imprinted where once there had been another. Vitals nestled in the cavity that now looked as if it had been eaten through for exactly this purpose. 

When the shapeshifting finally came to an end, Zeerae's original clothes and appearance returned. Except that they were larger now. She stood up, her movements slowed somewhat, and looked at her hands. 

With a flash of discomfort, Vyla found herself looking at the face of Ronav. "I hesitate to think him capable of escaping what trouble you may mean to cause," she said. 

"True, perhaps a change." Ronav melted away and the visage of a typical Taigin man appeared. 

It has to be a Taigin, Vyla noted. None but they would be quite the size that Zeerae had become with one body inside another. Vyla had, on occasion, heard hints of some unusual Shasteless method of corpse removal but never in any great detail. A creative solution, she had to admit. Ocean hunts used scavenging sea creatures on the rare occasions where bodies needed to vanish. 

With Maethli fully encased inside her, Zeerae took a step towards the door, only to stop immediately. She turned around and her eyes darted across the room. "Where are his hands? Did you eat them?" she asked. 

Vyla shook her head before twisting around and retrieving the severed parts from where they had been discarded at the commencement of feeding time. 

Zeerae stared at the hands in Vyla's as her brow creased in thought. Then her Taigin eyes looked up. "Give me one and nibble the wrist of the other. Make it look as if it is all that remains of our feast." 

Vyla passed one hand to Zeerae and brought the other to her lips. A steady stream of meaty slivers soon joined the rest that she had encased in bone to avoid digesting. "Why?" Vyla asked once she had finished. 

"Do not question your superiors." Zeerae's weighted feet fell with thuds as she strode towards the door, scooping up the jarred heart on the way. Her gait looked uneven and sluggish while she adjusted to the substantial burden. 

At the entrance to Maethli's store, Zeerae leaned over to the window and rubbed her index finger upon the glass. Several, near-mute scritches graced Vyla's ears before the Shasteless pulled away again, revealing a minuscule symbol ingrained amid the grime, no larger than a fingernail. "When word of Maethli's absence spreads, this will be all the explanation my sisters need." 

Vyla looked left and right down the gloomy, lantern-lit street once she emerged upon the boardwalk. A few weary souls were shuffling towards home but none that had seen them enter and none that looked particularly interested. "Your thoughts on the burial?" Vyla whispered. 

"Both in the silt beneath Teeburr lake," Zeerae replied. She had already begun to walk in that direction. "Return to camp, you still need rest." 

Vyla scowled. Not because she loathed the thought of the Shasteless showing her such pity, though she loathed exactly that. Vyla's eyes narrowed out of the growing suspicion that Zeerae had something planned. What else could the thing with the hand have been? With utmost caution, Vyla withdrew the nibbled part from her body and looked at it. She would keep it safe if only to ultimately discover what Zeerae could possibly have in store. 

=== 

Presently... 

Ronav stared at the top of the large oak that stood a short distance from their campsite. The highest branches remained strong so Nimtith had chosen it as the best location to tether their mounts for the night. As they had before, the two snakes lay upon beds of foliage and tree branches. And Zeerae was climbing up to meet them. 

"You don't strike me as the type to fall," said Ronav. 

Zeerae's hands scratched the bark as she reached for a jutting notch. She hooked herself into the trunk and bent over backwards to look at him. "I still enjoy the comfort of knowing that a big, strong Taigin is ready to catch me." 

"Uh huh..." Ronav hummed. One of the Voiareli had stirred and began peaking through the leaves for what might be coming to greet them. "And you couldn't wait until morning to get a scale?" 

"Nimtith would be watching." 

Ronav let out an exasperated sigh before slumping down to sit upon a stump that had broken, almost perfectly, into the shape of a chair. There was something odd about this plan of Zeerae's. For a start, it didn't make any sense. The fact that Ronav could find holes in it at all suggested that she hadn't told him everything. Or anything. 

Ronav's eyes had only momentarily left the tree but when they returned he could no longer find the Siren. Darkened leaves, waving back and forth in the breeze, and a Vouiareli laying down its head amounted to the only movement beneath his gaze. She had to have camouflaged herself. 

"Where are you?" he called to the night. 

"In the tree, stupid. Waiting for the snakes to settle so that I can pluck a scale fresh," came the Siren's voice. "And stand vigilant. You'll not catch me should I be swatted from the tree and you choose to sit." 

Now things were making a little more sense. Zeerae had never been concerned about losing her grip. The Vouiareli, on the other hand, may indeed brush her aside should she become unwelcome. With this in mind, Ronav returned to his position, neck craned upright. 

"I can't stand like this forever," he said to the treetop. 

"Yes, because waiting around and doing nothing is such a tax on the body," Zeerae replied with dripping sarcasm. 

Ronav opened his mouth to argue more but Zeerae got in first. 

"Hush, someone flies," she hissed over the evening breeze. 

On the ground and in the dark, the sky became near impossible to see properly. The moon and stars did their best to light the landscape but their glare was such that Ronav only spotted the Chayli when several dots blinked out beneath his silhouette. 

Nimtith? Ronav wondered. Their whipper had gone to fetch Vyla. What was he doing back here? And why did he look so... 

"No!" Ronav shouted when he saw a flicker of movement amid the foliage. 

Nimtith glanced towards the ground but the shout served more as a distraction than a warning. Barely a second had passed before Zeerae was upon him. Shadowed against the moonlight, Ronav saw whipping coils entangle their prey and heard the Chayli man cry out in fear. Then the two were falling, bouncing between the branches with crashes of chitinous armor and slaps of bare flesh. 

Ronav dove to catch the two but realized, too late, that Zeerae may have meant for him to serve more as a soft place to land and less as a savior. "Gah!" he cried as the struggling pair landed in his arms and knocked him to his back. 

Ka's mercy had the struggle shift immediately from atop him with Zeerae and Nimtith rolling downhill. The Chayli fought and punched against the Siren, who had made her way to his back where she blocked the wing blades, but it only took a few meters of tumbling before his flailings were halted. 

"Haa!" he gasped, eyes wide with fear. "Let me go, monster!" 

Ronav reached for Nimtith but he twisted away as much as he could manage. 

He thinks I'm a Siren too, Ronav realized. Then he let flow a tired laugh. Of course he does, no sane land dweller would be in league with these creatures. "Don't kill him." 

Zeerae raised an eyebrow. "Ordering me, sye? No, I've no plans to kill him. But we do need him more restful." 

With that, Zeerae's body began to creep towards the Chayli's mouth. Nimtith's struggles redoubled when he felt the tide approaching. But he could do nothing save shout and gasp and neither brought salvation. They had made their camp far from any homesteads or roads. Nobody for miles to hear a scream. 

With the added drain of adrenaline, it didn't take long for Nimtith to weaken and, ultimately, pass out. 

"So... are you going to start explaining things yet?" Ronav asked. Some of it he could fill in. Firstly, it seemed quite clear that Nimtith had seen something he shouldn't when he had gone to relieve himself. Stranger was the fact that Zeerae appeared to have anticipated this and, more importantly, intended it. 

"Revelations will come momentarily, my dear. First, before Vyla arrives, you must promise me not to breath a word of what has happened." Then Zeerae placed a hand on Ronav's shoulder and moved in until her mouth was barely an inch from his ear. "I will be apoplectic if you disobey me on this." 

The meaning of apoplectic skipped a fair distance above Ronav's head but, judging by her tone and tense expression, he guessed that rewards wouldn't follow disobedience. 

While they waited for Vyla to arrive, Zeerae disentangled herself from her captive and propped him up against the tree. Several welts were starting to show on Nimtith's skin where the fall had been less than graceful. Zeerae, of course, looked totally unscathed, except for the large mass of flesh that she left covering their whipper's wing blades. 

"What's that for?" Ronav asked. The flesh had blackened and hardened before being left behind and he wondered how it maintained that state once detached. 

"To stop him flying after he awakens. We won't bind him any further so as to regain his trust. We need his trust." 

"We do?" 

Zeerae made a gradual nod. Then her eyes went to the treetops where the Vouiareli had already begun to settle back down, apparently unconcerned about their master. 

"By the way, I was never really after a scale." Zeerae smiled at Ronav. Cunning, rather than friendly. 

"I guessed as much." 

=== 

It felt as though fire had set in Vyla's legs but she didn't change shape to a beast better at running. It had been dark and the moonlight could play tricks upon reflections and eyes alike. Nimtith might still be convinced that he had only imagined it all. No hope of that if she came crashing through the woods as a wolf. 

The campfire flickered on the trees without anyone to give it company. At least there were no signs of a struggle. Ronav and Zeerae were probably off in the woods somewhere, tumbling around on the leaves and gasping each other's names. Vyla wanted to spit bile at that image but instead she felt relief over the possibility that this whole misfortune might escape their notice. She only needed to catch Nimtith and put his mind to rest, or put it in the dirt, before he got too far. 




Arms of the Ocean Ch. 10



Vyla tore through the empty campsite without pause. Only one location remained where she might ambush their whipper. He wouldn't leave his precious beasts to a pack of Sirens. How long would it take to untie their ropes and coax them into fleeing? 

As she neared the tree in which their mounts nested, Vyla slowed to a slinking crawl. Her eyes went immediately to the canopy and, just as swift, she realized that something was wrong. The Vouiareli were there and unroused by Nimtith's frantic efforts to free them and be gone. He should have beaten her here. 

"You'll find your prey already caught," came Zeerae's voice in the darkness. 

Vyla pushed back the reflex to jump. Only then did she lower her gaze to spy Nimtith slumped unconciously against the base of the tree. Ronav sat a short distance away, partially hidden in forest shade and doing his best to appear uninvolved. 

"You must imagine my surprise to hear this one surging by overhead," said Zeerae as she took a step closer. Moonlight slid up her body to reveal a cruel smile. "Fortunate that we were able to catch him in time." 

"He—" Vyla stopped herself from finishing with snuck up on me. "Why did you not keep him at the campsite? You knew what might happen if he took to wandering," she accused instead. 

"Oh this is hardly on me. You're the one who failed to check for watchers before changing shape. This marks the second time that such a mistake has come by your hand." 

Despite her usual care to keep emotions in check, Vyla felt a snarl rising in her throat. How dare the Shasteless blame her when they both knew that this had been a setup. A thread of Zeerae's plot. Yet even as Vyla told herself this, she still failed to reach what the end point might be. 

Zeerae paced in the darkness as she continued. "I know you're a Tomateless; you never told me where you lay in that chain." 

And just like that, the motive of Zeerae's actions came to light. "You'll have to go on wondering." Vyla gritted her teeth. 

"Or I could guess for myself. Let us see, two unmasks in as many days, your childish responses accompanying, and receiving, my interrogations... not to mention that poor show that you might call defending yourself." Zeerae's face scrunched a little as she thought. "Not so low as inyatil... parbos?" 

Vyla trembled. Correct in a single guess. Worse that it be reached so quickly. "Then you have your answer. Ridicule me if you wish." Her eyes went to Ronav where a brief glimmer of concern fled. 

"There is nothing to ridicule until I learn how long you've been a parbos of the Tomateless," Zeerae stated. 

The core of Vyla's body, inside of which much of her flesh continued to mend itself, clenched as she weighed her options. Answer, she decided, at least take that satisfaction from her. The Shasteless would learn the truth somehow anyway. "Seven years." 

"Seven— Seven years?!" Zeerae's eyes went wide in a rare loss of face. 

Though she had been the one to reveal the fact, Vyla couldn't help but hiss and her eyes turned acidic green. Only vague awareness told her that Ronav had sat up and now looked on with building concern. 

"Seven years... Surely— no, that explains everything," Zeerae went on wondering aloud. She looked at the ground as she mumbled several things beneath hearing. "There are lives outside the Tomateless, you know." 

"Mm," Vyla growled, her patience thin as ice. 

"What's wrong with... whatever this is?" Ronav asked. 

Zeerae rolled her eyes and turned towards him. "Parbos means novice. Most pass that rank by year three. Four would be—" 

"Enough!" Vyla cried. Without thinking, she dove at Zeerae's back, her arms turning to jagged blades. "Curse you and your—" 

Only a flicker of movement met Vyla's eyes but it was enough to see Zeerae slide out of the way. Her arms hooked under Vyla's and she was on her back a fraction of a second later. 

"I bested you when you were fighting fit. I would crush you this time," Zeerae whispered. 

The words fell on deaf ears. Vyla flowed out from under the Shasteless and almost made it to her feet before she felt the pain. Her entire body spasmed at once and bubbled up against her will. Beneath the blinding fury she hadn't noticed what else Zeerae had done. The Siren clutched a fleshy organ in one hand as she regarded Vyla the same way a mother regards a tantruming child. An organ identical to the one that they had liberated from Maethli. 

"Yah," Vyla gasped. Already her body had begun to scream for its missing heart. Her brain shouted orders to something that wasn't there. But unlike sindrakovo, there would be plenty of time to enjoy the gradual decline and rebellion of her flesh as her body convulsed more and more violently. "Give that back." 

"Will you cease your childishness if I do?" Zeerae tossed the heart between her hands as though life were a game. 

"Stop hurting her!" Ronav shouted as he stormed over. 

"Both of you sit!" Zeerae snarled. "You forget that this is my domain and you travel here under my courtesy. We are not so close that I am beyond the simple option of executing trespassers. Now sit."  

Ronav met the Siren's glare for several seconds before finally crumbling under it and sinking to the ground. Then Zeerae turned her eyes on Vyla and the venom in them compelled her to do the same. Once she reached the dirt, her heart came arcing back. 

"Now, you both desire explanations and the time for them has come." Zeerae met their gazes before pressing on. "I sent Nimtith to the river knowing that he would undoubtedly spy a Siren. He reacted as expected rather than as hoped. Regardless, he allowed me to learn more about you, Vyla, and where you stand." 

"Kssh, what could that matter?" She folded her arms and looked off into the darkness. 

"It matters. Only a fool chooses allies she knows nothing about. Of course, I wouldn't expect a parbos to understand. But you were not the true reason for my plan." Zeerae turned to Ronav. "We've not seen your winged friend in over a day." 

"No..." Ronav agreed. He clearly hadn't been thinking much about it from the way he sat more upright at the news. 

"There are three explanations, but only one we need act on. The first and, by far, most likely is that she has given up on you. The second, should she indeed return, is that she lost our trail and spent the time finding us again. No cause for concern in either of those cases. But the final possibility, and the one for which I prepare, is that she has found a new set of friends to bother." 

Silence crept over them for several seconds while Zeerae's implications crept in. Ultimately Vyla chose to break it. 

"So how does you humiliating me fit in?" 

"We need Nimtith's trust," Zeerae explained. "He and Yis are both Chayli. If Yis does indeed return, and we learn that she has Shaslings in pursuit, we will need to oil her jaws at least enough that she gives us who she has told. Having another Shasling on our side, one the same race as hers, no less, would be a tremendous aid. Of course, had it been me, I would have killed the girl before any damage could be done." 

"No." Ronav launched himself to his feet. "You're not killing her." 

"As I said, dearest. If she returns she may have told her story to many others. We must first find out who." 

"So you're going to torture her then kill her." 

"Indeed. That is, if she betrayed us." 

To Vyla's surprise, the glare Ronav offered looked quite firm. Perhaps the time spent among his betters had made some improvements. 

"I'm not going to let you," he said in an unwavering tone. 

Zeerae raised an eyebrow. "Even should she prove treacherous?" 

"There are better ways." 

"Other ways, yes. Better? Prove it." 

"I will if you let me. I'll learn everything we need without harming a single hair on her." 

Silence again as the two engaged in a battle of the eyes. Zeerae turned away first. "If you insist. But we're getting ahead of ourselves." 

Everyone's focus then shifted to Nimtith who remained propped against the tree. As they watched, his head slowly rolled forwards and around to hang limp on his other side. 

"I must admit, I'm growing tired of interrogations." Zeerae glided towards the Chayli and sat down in front of him. Her body began to flow around his and soon they were intertwined the same as she had done with Maethli. 

=== 

The grass-carpeted hillside felt cool against Ronav's back as he lay upon the ground. The evening breeze and star-dotted night began unraveling the knots that had built up during the day, originating from the flight as much as Maethli and Nimtith. 

As hard as Ronav tried, he couldn't keep his mind from wandering back to the tree by which Zeerae negotiated with the Chayli man even now. It hadn't taken too long for Nimtith to rouse but Zeerae had a long night ahead of her if the progress when Ronav left had been any indication. 

"Do you mind if I join you?" 

Ronav twisted his neck around and spied Vyla emerging from the trees. "Bored of those two as well?" 

"Partly." Vyla crossed her legs upon the grass next to him. "Neither can I stand her company any longer." 

"She's a bit grating at times," Ronav agreed. 

For a while the night insects regained their silent forum to fill with their own voices. Tiny black shapes meandered through the air and the occasional firefly flashed its presence. Eventually the sparks of sentience in Ronav's head told him that he presently had the opportunity he'd been seeking. 

"She's right as well," he said. Then he sank beneath the Siren's venom-filled eyes and added, "On occasion." 

The green fire crept away to be replaced with an aqua coloring. "Kssh, yes," she struggled out. 

Again their conversation fell away to the chirps and thripses of the dark. Both managed the occasional remark of small talk but nothing along the lines that Ronav had desired. 

"Why are you really doing this?" Ronav blurted out at last before any second thoughts could seep in. 

Vyla looked at him for a moment, then back out across the shadowed hills and farmland. "My purpose hasn't changed." 

"No. No more lies." 

"I didn't tell one." 

"You're bringing me to see the Southsea Sirens and that's all there is to it." When no response came, Ronav continued. "Why?" 

Vyla spun to face him, her eyes flaring again. "Were you not listening to that charade back there? The one you had a hand in? I have always been a burden to the sea. A failed sister who lacks even the sense and decency to do Sirenkind a service by dying in battle. A farce of the highest order. Oh yes, I might slay Shasling invaders and wreck ships as skillfully as my comrades but that isn't enough. No, not by a long shot. Because only another Siren can prove a challenge and I've yet to best any in sparring. And a true sister must master espionage, seduction, sailing and fishing, ours and Shasling styles both, along with a dozen other skills that the Tomateless rarely use. So, sye, perhaps consider that before questioning me next!" 

Without awaiting a reply, Vyla shot to her feet and stormed towards the trees. So stunned was Ronav by the outburst that he hesitated in calling after her. 

"Wait!" He finally managed. "I'm sorry! Come back and we can still talk... about... ugh." 

Vyla vanished into the foliage with a crashing hiss of leaves. Ronav watched the bouncing tangle of branches, as they resettled themselves, in the hopes that she might emerge again. Only when his muscles jolted at having been still so long did he give up and return to the ground. 

=== 

"Why don't you kill me and be done with it?" 

Zeerae's head sagged and she sat down opposite the Chayli. Nimtith's arms were folded, his legs crossed and neither were bound. The only shackles were in the form of the black, solid mass upon his air blades. He could run, if he wanted, but he wouldn't get far. 

"Whatever you want to know, you won't. Not without torturing me. But I'm sure that won't be a problem." Despite the stoicism in Nimtith's words, his eyes betrayed the fear. Still, that he could manage anything more than blubbering spoke well of his courage. 

"You haven't always been a whipper," said Zeerae as way of a different approach. 

He hesitated a second. "What of it?" 

"Most Shaslings do nothing but beg for freedom. You stopped quite swiftly." 

Nimtith rolled his jaw before replying. "I used to do storming operations with Ka's guard down in Kalatish." 

"Ah. Breaching and busting up smuggling rings, yes? Why stop?" 

"What do you care?" 

"Curiosity, that's all." Zeerae added a smile to the mix. A friendly one without a single razor-edged canine to speak of. 

"You know what they say about that sort of thing?" Nimtith asked, then shrugged. "I guess it probably doesn't apply to you... I left because no Chayli should be bound to one place forever." 

"Ha, the very reason I left the sea. Sure I like the water but there's more to land." 

"Uh huh..." Nimtith looked overhead at the Vouiareli who were fast asleep once more. 

"It's the variety, I think. The ocean scenary is quite the same wherever you go." 

"Are you just teasing me or is there actually a point to this?" 

"Yes." Zeerae nodded. 

Nimtith blinked at that response. "Yes? That's not an answer." 

"It is. Yes I'm teasing you and yes there's a point." 

"Then spit it out already." 

Zeerae rolled her eyes and sighed. Shaslings could be so impatient. "I want you to join us. Help us, rather." 

"Pfft, why would I help a bunch of Sirens?" 

"Well, for a start, Ronav isn't a Siren. We're actually helping him on his journey to the southern sea. I won't bore you with the details but it's been rather amusing so far." 

"Uh huh..." Nimtith's expression made it clear that he believed her about as much as he would believe someone claiming that the earth revolved around the sun. 

"We may be receiving some company soon, too. She can vouch for Ronav's identity. Although she only speaks Siren so... Anyway, can I count on you?" 

Nimtith tilted his head from one side to the other. "Let's be sure I'm getting this right, you want me to commit treason against the empire by joining its enemies, a crime for which I would be hung. At the same time, I'm guessing that if I say no, you'll kill me here and now." 

"Mhmm." Zeerae nodded. 

"So, in reality, you're not giving me any incentive to help you." 

"That's... huh, I guess not." Zeerae frowned, an act. She hoped that toning down the appearance of a vorpal cunning would help win Nimtith round. It seemed to be working so far. "Well, what do you suggest?" 

"What?" For the second time Nimtith looked taken aback at how the conversation had progressed. A challenge to his preconception of Sirenkind. 

"I don't hear you coming up with any ideas. What would it take to convince you to accompany us?" 

"I— There isn't— Nothing. Nothing you do will convince me." Nimtith's eyes left Zeerae and he stared intently at the ground between them. 

"Nothing?! No, there has to be something to convince you. How about this, you stay here and think about it. I'm going to go fetch us some of that booze you left at the camp." Zeerae flowed upright and spun around before gliding away from a confused Nimtith. She smiled as she left. The Chayli, with his wing blades bound, wouldn't get far if he even tried to flee. In all Zeerae's time on land, she had yet to meet a member of the flying race that could run for any significant distance. 

=== 

One thing that had always been especially odd was the way these people commanded fire. Having lived so long in the forest, Yis only saw fire as a danger. She knew too well the vast tracts of destruction that a flame, brought by lighting or a dry, summer's day, could wreak. So it felt strange now that fire should be her beacon. Yis had spotted the dab of light from high above, just as Trym had said she would. 

They will have travelled far but we should manage to find where they rest for the night, Trym had explained near the big, wooden platform where the flying snakes were. Look for a place away from other people. Away from farms, houses and towns. Look for a bright dab of fire. 

It had taken a while before Yis felt confident that she and Trym were on the same leaf. Much of his words were still a bit off but he was managing well. A strong sense of hope now occupied Yis' being. A chance at last to off those Sirens and save her misguided friend. 

Yis felt a wave of gratitude upon finding the campsite bare. She eyed the fire, walled by stones, but also took in the other surroundings. Several comfy-looking mats lay on the ground, a pile of brown, leathery things and a pot that bubbled lazily over the flame. The smell that wafted forth bespoke of inviting contents. Yis took a step towards it but tripped over a wooden bowl and spilled a smear of thick liquid over the ground. 

Seconds later and Yis gripped a branch overhead, her heart racing. It took a moment before she could accept that the bowl wasn't some horrifying threat. Just as she was about to float down and continue her investigation, a new sound arouse and demanded she clench her perch tighter. 

Footsteps were approaching on the fallen leaves. Steady, padding crunches that didn't sound like any four-legged animal. 

Ronav? Yis wondered. The she stifled an eep upon seeing who had appeared. 

A yellow-haired woman. One of the Sirens, for certain. She stepped into the campsite, eyes fixed to the fire, but stopped short of the spilled bowl. Her head turned to it, then pointed up into the trees where a set of cold, predatorial eyes spotted Yis immediately. 

"Gah, so she is right again," the Siren muttered in the odd language that Ronav spoke. Then her words changed to ones that Yis could understand. "What do you want, wild one?" 

"Let Ronav go," Yis replied. She tried her best to keep her voice firm but a slight tremble worked its way in. 

The Siren sighed. "Still with this flying fish chase? He is free to go whenever he wishes." 

Yis glared and stayed clinging to her branch but said nothing. 

"Will you come down here so I needn't snap my neck to look at you." The Siren moved towards a fallen log, that looked as though it had been rolled nearer the fire, and sat upon it. She then pointed Yis to a seat opposite. 

Like a deer creeping in the dark, Yis peeled away from her branch and hovered towards the ground. The wind from her wing blades sent the fire swirling a little and she was grateful that it blew away from her. Better still that it lick towards the Siren, though she wouldn't mind. 

"There, isn't this—" 

Snap came the sound of a twig underfoot. Yis shot up into the canopy on a gust of air that threatened to snuff the flames beneath her. Another thing approached through the forest, she felt sure. There, near the place that the first had appeared, the other Siren emerged. 

The first spotted her and smiled. Then her eyes flitted to the treetops. "Look who is—" 

"I know," said the second without taking a glance. Instead she went straight to the pile of leathery things and rummaged through, soon retrieving a smooth, clear object that looked to be filled with liquid. "I welcome your return to us, dear Yis." Prize in hand, the second strode back the way she had come. Eventually her footsteps faded beyond hearing and the camp was quiet again, save the fire's crackle. 

"At least we share a dislike of her," the first remarked. 

Yis trusted that sentence no more than she did any other that may spout from a Siren's razor-toothed maw. All the same, she crept down through the air and took her place opposite again. 




Arms of the Ocean Ch. 10



"I don't think we've ever been properly introduced." The Siren's right arm stretched out and swerved around the fire. Her hand opened and faced up. "I am Vyla." 

Yis touched the Siren's hand with her own, palm facing down, and both withdrew. 

Vyla smiled. "That is a Siren greeting. We use it to see who might be outside their true shape. Yet you did not hesitate in copying me. Did your mother show you it?" 

Yis scowled. "She's not one of you." 

"Too bad she isn't here or we could find out quite fast. What happened to her?" 

Since learning that Ronav walked with a Siren, Yis had been forcing down her memories of the past. The time when she hadn't been alone. A vague, dreamlike world where she might have once lived among Ronav's people but she didn't care to recall. Yis clenched under Vyla's question and forced it away. "Nothing," she choked. 

Another smile emerged on the Siren's lips. Not a kind one, that would look impossibly strange. "Perhaps some smaller words first. Well then, how was your day?" 

=== 

"Shall you have first or shall I?" Zeerae uncorked the bottle and held it out for Nimtith to take. 

The Chayli hadn't budged in her absence and he continued that trend when he rejected the offering. 

"It is yours. Suit yourself, I guess." The swig that gushed down Zeerae's throat was nothing but a show. In a situation as delicate as this, she would never drink. Instead she caught the liquid and sealed it away to avoid digestion. "My kind don't ordinarily partake but this... this has an intriguing taste about it. Pleasantly sharp. Powerful too, methinks." 

"Are we at the part where you kill me yet?" Nimtith asked. The tough-guy demeanor remained, as did the hint of fear beneath it. 

Zeerae slumped to the ground. "Ugh, why are you so eager to die? It'll hurt, you realize. If I were in your boots, I'd want to go on living as long as I could." 

"Which would mean agreeing to join you." 

"Mm." Zeerae nodded as she took another gulp. She dribbled the slightest bit for added effect. "Now you're getting it." 

"But then I'm an enemy of the empire and I'll die anyway." 

"We don't let our friends die so unceremoniously. Besides, you're too good looking to go like that." 

Nimtith's eyes narrowed to slits. "Uh..." 

"Oh, speaking of, how did that visit to your lady friend go?" 

"It wasn't that, just some extended relatives. Cousins and such." 

"Sounds boring." 

Nimtith bobbed his head side to side. Sort of, the gesture read. "Besides, I don't have a 'lady friend'." 

"What?!" Zeerae cried and she pretended to choke on the booze. "No, you're lying, you must have someone. A man of your appearance and worldliness. Former member of the guards, rugged Vouiareli whipper, prime of your life." 

Nimtith shook his head. "A bit here and there but I never wanted to get tied up." 

"A pity." Zeerae tossed back the bottle and offered it to her company. He took it this time. Good. "Some poor girl's missed out. I haven't had much luck either. A Siren on land can't really open herself up to many people, pun intended." Zeerae sagged a little. She rippled and her body began to shift to its standard appearance. Aqua, translucent hair, razor teeth, lethal eyes. 

Nimtith tensed at the change and the far more imposing shape of Zeerae. He took another sip. Only a few mouthfuls remained sloshing around at the bottom. 

"Am I pretty?" Zeerae asked. 

A spluttering filled the air as Nimtith choked over the question. "What?" he managed. 

"You heard me." 

The Chayli tilted his head in thought for a moment. "If I say no, you're not going to kill me, are you?" 

Zeerae's face went blank. "So it's a no?" 

Nimtith waved her words back. "Wait, wait, that came out all wrong. What I mean is, were the answer hypothetically a no, and I'm not saying for a second that it might be, but if it is, you won't kill me, right?" 

"I... what?" This happened to be one of the rare occasions where Zeerae didn't need to feign confusion. "Just answer, it's not like it's a difficult question." 

"Yeah, easy for you to say." Nimtith's features turned a more serious shade. "I mean, I guess so. Yes, okay? You're what I would call pretty." 

Zeerae nodded slowly. "Why'd that take so long?" 

"Well... There are a couple of things that someone, not necessarily myself, mind, might consider unappealing. Your teeth, for example." Nimtith opened his mouth and rubbed a finger across his own. "And the killing people thing. The cannibalism too—" 

Zeerae jabbed a finger at the Chayli and he flinched. "We're not cannibals. Cannibals eat their own kind, we only eat Shaslings. And other animals, of course." 

"That's not the point but yeah, I guess." Another gulp from the bottle. 

"So when you said that those traits don't necessarily bother you, what did you mean?" 

Nimtith swallowed and wiped his mouth so slowly that he looked like prey food trying not to be seen. "Uh... if this is some special kind of Siren torture technique, can we go with the regular variety instead?" 

Zeerae moved to her hands and knees as she began to crawl towards him. "That depends. I could torture you, or, if you'd prefer, I could do quite the opposite." 

Nimtith blinked, lifted the bottle to his lips and knocked back all that remained in it. He managed to throw it aside barely a second before Zeerae fell upon him. 

=== 

A loud, sudden crack from the campfire caused both Vyla and Yis to jump where they had grown complacent in the quiet between them. There had been plenty of awkward pauses in conversation so far. Gaps where both had stared cold at the other. 

"Why are you so obsessed with 'saving' Ronav?" Vyla asked, a question that had been bothering her for some time. "Why not leave him to his supposed fate?" 

Yis' eyes narrowed, something she seemed to do every time Vyla opened her mouth. "He's my friend," she answered 

"After a few hours in his company over a couple of days? So you think you know him well enough to risk your life over." 

"He said he was my friend." Yis' head drooped a little and her voice fell nearly to a whisper, "No one else wanted to be..." 

Vyla leaned forwards at that remark. "How long have you lived in the forest?" 

Yis kept her head down and it looked at first as though she intended to let the question float away. Then Vyla realized that the wild Chayli girl had her fingers counting up to something. A count on one, a little spin of another and a concentrated frown. "I don't know," she said at last. 

"One year? One turn of the seasons?" Vyla asked. 

Yis shook her head. 

"Two? More than two?" 

Shake. 

Vyla leaned back again. It would be easy to lose track of time in the woods. "Have you ever lived among other people?" 

Yis' brow furrowed and she nodded after several seconds. 

"When? And why stop?" 

The girl concentrated again. This time it ended with a shudder and a shake of her head. 

Indeed? Vyla wondered. Discomfort at a memory? "What happened to your mother, child?" 

"I'm not a child," Yis said with a scowl. 

You certainly act like one. "World-wizened matron, then, tell me of your mother." 

"No," she hissed. A breeze swept up around Yis as she floated into the air. "No!" In seconds she had vanished over the treetops. 

Vyla watched the spot where the Chayli had last been visible. "My patience is thinning with that one," she said to the woods. 

=== 

The day had worn far past its welcome. Over an hour of flying, a taste of a swim but nothing greater, their business with Maethli and then more work to be done afterwards... Zeerae's frustrations had come to a boiling point. All she wanted now was to relax in the best way possible. To sit back and languish in the deepest of Siren pastimes. 

So it was that Nimtith looked panicked and overwhelmed, at first, when she practically tackled him and began the unceremonious act of tearing off his clothes. 

"W—wait," he stammered. 

"Done waiting," Zeerae snarled. She fumbled with his belt and took to slicing through the leather instead. Judging by the hiss of breath, she might have nicked him too. As way of apology, Zeerae melted off her top and pressed her body against his as she lapped her elongating tongue up his shirt, coiling in such a way that she undid his buttons one by one. 

"But why? Wh—" 

Zeerae silenced the man once she reached his mouth. She spoke on regardless. "Done explaining." From Zeerae's pussy crept several long, slickened tongues that began their work on undoing Nimtith's pants and freeing his rapidly-hardening member. She could already feel the blessed thing pressing between them, warm and wonderful. 

Nimtith's hands found her shoulders and he managed to push her away. "No, this is... this..." 

Zeerae grew an affectionate smile as Nimtith's protests weakened more and more. She retrieved his cock at last and her nether tongues coiled around it. One for the base and balls, one to wrap around the shaft as the last circled and teased the head. She leaned over until her lips brushed his ear. 

"Just this once I will take things easy on you," she whispered. 

With his back pressed against the tree, Nimtith had nowhere to go and nothing to do but gulp as Zeerae's tongues pulled his member into her core. She rode slowly at first, despite a deep desire to do otherwise. The Chayli needed to be eased into this. Her body rocked against him and he reciprocated, if only slightly. She could still feel the apprehension as it came across. A curiosity over why what should have been his death went this way instead. 

Shasling's always felt so warm when they were inside. Sye's could never manage such a sensation and other Sirens felt dishonest somehow. Yes there were many advantages in bedding a fellow shapeshifter but the inexperienced had an innocent charm about them. 

Right now, for example, Nimtith had let his hands wander carelessly up her chest. Zeerae took his in hers and guided them around to her shoulders where they could find added purchase to help drive deeper. Her nether tongues pulled in Nimtith's cock after every backwards stroke. The walls of her chasm, running like a river, undulated towards her center to tease him as much as to please herself. 

"Ah," Nimtith groaned. "How are you..." 

"Shasling woman cannot compare. What you call sex we call abstinence." An exaggeration, but not much of one. As Zeerae's rhythm turned to bouncing she longed to show the full compendium of Siren coupling to either of the Shasling men accompanying them. Or perhaps the winged girl. How amusing it would be to break that little flower. 

"Mm," Zeerae groaned. She bit her bottom lip as her eyes slid closed. Nimtith had begun to take more command in his thrusts. She no longer needed to hold his hands to her shoulders so her own wandered to her nipples where they began to gingerly pinch and play. But such unimaginativeness bored her almost immediately. 

"Nimtith?" she queried and she pulled the slightest bit away from him. His eyes rolled down to meet hers and, to Zeerae's distaste, his tempo slowed. "Would you object to me doing this?" 

Where once her breasts had been topped quite plainly, the skin began to sink inwards and change color. Normal features vanished to be replaced with vertical, flush-red lips that looked hungry as the ones being filled between her legs. The new set of chasms that formed even topped themselves with a clitoris each. 

"Gah," Nimtith recoiled but, back against the tree, he didn't have far to go. 

Zeerae said nothing to comfort him. Instead her tongue uncoiled and elongated towards her right breast. The tip of the fleshy tendril circled the edge of her new pussy's lips, even brushing over the clit. This continued for several seconds under the rapt attention of Nimtith as he continued to lazily plough his hips against her. 

A second tongue grew and crept towards Zeerae's other breast, this time slowly driving itself deep inside. "If you want, you can always take their place," she suggested, her words unmarred by her actions. 

Nimtith didn't reply. Neither did he stop watching as the first tongue made its way inside and began undulating the walls of Zeerae's tit-cave open and closed. She rolled her head back in ecstasy and hoped that this might encourage the man to take a bit more of a lead. 

Success. Nimtith pushed himself away from the tree and gently rolled forwards, carrying Zeerae to the ground. Neither the tongues in her pussy nor those emerging from her mouth ceased to caress or invade as the Chayli's weight shifted atop her and he began driving down into her folds. 

It had only been a day since Ronav but still Zeerae felt grateful and relieved to have another taste of a steely cock between her legs. Nimtith had her arms pinned to the ground, just below her shoulders, as he began bucking against her with aggression. Zeerae wrapped her legs around his waist to pull him in more forcefully on every thrust. Let the Chayli know that he needn't fear hurting her. 

The comforting warmth that had once smoldered at the point their hips met had, by now, grown to a searing heat. Zeerae could feel her peak drawing near with the Shasling's constant punishment. The walls of her pussy clamped down on his rigid member and the added friction pushed her over the edge. 

"F—fuck yes," Zeerae groaned to the stars as her body began to convulse. Her fingers teased and twisted her clit, tongues buried into her breasts and nethers held her lover's cock deep within. 

Zeerae's body pulsed with the pounding orgasm as her thighs received a yet-thicker coating of her juices, if such were at all possible. Like Ronav, Nimtith had had a bit of help on this one. That didn't detract from the ecstasy of it. 

While Zeerae struggled to regain control of her faculties, Nimtith hoisted her up and shuddered to his feet. Shuddered because his own climax clearly drew near and Zeerae knew that she would prove a surprising burden to the Chayli, considering all that she carried within her body. 

Nimtith seemed to manage with the weight and he soon had her turned around in his arms and on his cock. Now he rode her from behind with her chest pressed up against the tree. As Zeerae's orgasm wound down, she silently commended the man on his initiative, a tad misguided it may be. A face full of tree bark didn't do wonders for the eroticism. 

I did not intend to eat wood in the literal sense, Zeerae joked to herself. Rather than pushing off the tree entirely, for, at heart, it was nice position, she hooked in with her arms and solidified her features already out of sight of Nimtith. Now the scratchy bark broke upon a hard armor and the hooks on her body took most of the weight. 

Every thrust from Nimtith pushed Zeerae against the tree and she could only sigh to herself as the nerves in her pussy came down from their high. If this Chayli were going to continue with them, he would need to be reeducated on the art of sex. This kind of overbearishness would be immensely unpleasant for any but a Siren. Even then, Zeerae had had to take it upon herself to fix his mistakes. 

"About to... cum," Nimtith grunted. 

His words brought Zeerae back to the present and she moaned in anticipation, and a little involuntarily, at the thought of his boiling seed splashing inside her. Once more she went to work on the vaginas that occupied her breasts. They gushed their lubrication to the ground no differently to the real thing as her tongues probed and teased deep inside. 

"Hnng," Nimith heaved. His hands clamped tight upon the sleekness of her waist as he shot blast after blast inside her chasm. 

Again Zeerae's legs entwined around Nimtith to hold him deep. Her first orgasm fed a second, with substantial self-serving, and she burned with the urge to stay as filled as he had her now. 

Despite that wish, Nimthith's legs eventually had to relax and they tumbled together, with less bruising than before, to the soft moss and leaves that carpeted the tree's roots. 

Zeerae's tongues withdrew from her breasts and she shifted position so that she was propped up upon her lover. "Now, would you like to take me up on my earlier offer?" 

"Fu... what offer was that... again?" Nimtith groaned. 

Zeerae slid down his body and lifted her breasts into view before squeezing them on either side of the Chayli's cock. Still hard, she noted. Perhaps it had been a while. 

"Oh, right..." Nimtith nodded as he stared at the flush-red lips that continued to occupy Zeerae's breasts. 

"Why don't I decide for you?" She took hold of Nimtith's member and delicately angled it towards her right 'nipple'. At the same time she rose slightly to provide a better entrance. 

As before, Nimtith took a bit of coaxing before he warmed up. Zeerae had to bounce herself against him, titflesh rolling like the sea as the Chayli's cock penetrated, hardening once more. Her tongue emerged again and slithered to her other breast where it pushed in immediately. 

"Mm," Zeerae moaned. She had made everything up here just as sensitive as the pleasure center between her legs. The thought that she had a Shasling fucking her nipples only added to the thrill. She hadn't tried such an act on land before. 

"This is so... strange," Nimtith managed. 

"Bad?" Zeerae asked. Her eyes were squeezed shut beneath the tingles that pulsed through her body. 

"N-not as such." Despite those words, Nimtith lifted her into his arms and began moving from the tree. 

Zeerae might have protested had she not been so preoccupied with the sensations assaulting her brain. As things were, she could only whimper longingly when the man's cock slid out of her breast. 

It turned out that she didn't have to wait long before being filled again. Nimtith carried her to the chair-shaped stump and sat her upon it, though she found staying upright a bit troublesome. In this position, Nimtith had far easier access to Zeerae's breasts, aiming for the left this time. 

"Haa," Zeerae sighed as the Chayli pushed inside, hands on her shoulders. Then the time for gentle thrusting came to an end. The cock pounding inside her felt frustrated and angry and she loved it for this. There had been plenty of warm up. What better way to end things than a solid fucking. 

"Close," she whispered. It was as much a statement as a question. 

Nimtith nodded. He had her pushed back against the stump but she didn't need to armor herself against scratches anymore. Something so small couldn't hope to distract at this stage. 

A grunt from Nimtith heralded his climax and Zeerae felt the first wave of his cum jet inside her breast. She pulled away and let the rest fire onto her chest, spurt after spurt, until her skin had been plastered. 

It hadn't ended yet. Zeerae's body sat at the precipice but she had nothing to push her over into ecstasy. Nimtith began to sag but Zeerae caught him as her legs flew up to wrap around his neck. Then she pulled him down and between her thighs where a soaked chasm awaited hungrily. 

"Eat," she commanded. 

Nimtith didn't hesitate, to her surprise. His mouth immediately found Zeerae's clitoris and she shivered when he tongued and nibbled the nub with supreme delicacy. 

It only took seconds before the wave finally crashed over Zeerae. The core of her body rippled outwards with heat and she curled in on herself. Fingers and toes twitched and twisted. A long, lust-filled hum was all she could manage as review for the Chayli's efforts. 

It took a little over half a minute before Zeerae had come down sufficiently to open her eyes and find her words. Nimtith sat against the stump, limp in more ways than one. He shivered when she ran her tongue along his bicep. Sweating like this he didn't taste so good. 




Arms of the Ocean Ch. 10



"You'll... need a wash, mm... before I take a bite," she managed. Then she slid down to join him on the ground and pressed in close to his warm body. 

A flash of fear shot across Nimtith's face. "You don't—" 

"Kidding," Zeerae laughed. Then her expression turned serious. "The hygiene of my prey is not an issue." 

When no words met hers, Zeerae turned quiet too. She could feel Nimtith lying quite still as he pondered whether or not the threat was a joke or something more substantial. Apparently he decided to take his chances as he wrapped an arm around her. 

"I still don't think I trust you." 

"At least we've made a start. My name's Zeerae, by the way. Not Sae." 

=== 

The rushing of wind and water created the perfect white noise to drown out the world. It left Yis free to do the same in her memories. She wrapped her hands around her knees and shuffled deeper into the crook of the tree in which she had perched. So many years spent burying the bad things and that nasty Siren had torn it all up again with a single sentence. 

It had happened in the cold season. That was one of the clearest things that Yis remembered. They had had trouble getting the fires to light. A big pile of wood for each and each bound to the pole atop. 

Of course, Yis hadn't been meant to see any of that. When the metal-clothed men came hammering she had hidden in the roof between the ceiling and the thatch. A cramped place that she had made the winter before. She knew to be silent, mother had said this might happen one day. But that had been a distant nightmare that couldn't possibly come about. 

Then came the kicking and screaming and dragging, bruising, breaking. Her father got knocked to the ground and his head stomped on. Then they stomped again. And again and again until there wasn't anything to stomp on. She still didn't know why they bothered to burn him after that. 

Mother fought back with a kitchen knife at first. She grabbed it so quickly that the metal-clothed men didn't react in time and one lost a hand. But they had brought plenty of men with plenty more to grab and tie. 

All throughout, Yis had been good. She hadn't made a so much as a squeak. And when the first chance came she flew through the back window, cutting herself upon the glass. 

They thought they lost her but she came back to watch. Perched high in the treetops, and nearly too far to see properly, she had seen them led and bound to the pyres. Then the flames and the burning. She had watched it all, hoping every second that someone, something, might intervene and rouse her from the nightmare. 

When no salvation came, she flew. Only when her wing blades felt like they would drop off did she stop. 

In the present, Yis shuddered and felt the thin layer of grit upon her face smear with tears. Neither of her parents had been Sirens. Sirens don't burn.



Arms of the Ocean Ch. 11



At a glance, it was hard to tell which wounds had been made by the killer and which were nothing more than the nibblings of lake fish. Perhaps an ordinary eye would never spot the difference. But Trym was neither ordinary nor possessive of eyes. His voice had no difficulty in judging the size of teeth, the patterns of damage and where, particularly around the head and right arm, the feast had been greatest. 

"Your assumption is correct, captain," said Trym as he turned to face the guards and the growing crowd of townsfolk that struggled to see past. "A knife took him, I should think. Not a drunken accident in the water as we may have been meant to believe." 

"Can you tell who it might have been?" the steel-clad Neynas asked, gold palm-print on his chest shining in the sun. 

Times like these made Trym long for eyes if only so that he could roll them. "Well, seeing as how I know the face of nobody in Teeburr, reassembling this one may prove fruitless." 

"Ah, of course." 

"His clothes look quite fine and I imagine there may be someone missing him— but I don't need to tell you how to do your job..." 

The captain smiled. "No indeed, I've men chasing it up already." 

Trym turned away from the captain whose name was Havel or Havo or something along those lines. The Neynas wasn't a Siren, presumably, nor any other person of interest so he didn't bear entertaining more than absolutely necessary. 

Blondie and Glade were standing off to the side as usual. Really they were only good when something needed knocking about. But, unlike other such forms of muscle, they knew and accepted this fact wholeheartedly, if a tad overenthusiastically. 

"What's the word?" Glade asked once Trym had stepped closer. 

"Sirens, I've no doubt," he whispered so that none but they would hear. There hadn't yet been a chance to rule out anyone in Teeburr. Even the captain of the guard could be an enemy. 

Blondie shrugged. "What if it's just the fish that made all those bites? Big ones." 

"Some parts are substantially more eaten than others." Glade answered. "Besides, this is too much of a coincidence." 

"The plan?" asked Blondie after nodding. 

Trym thought back over the morning. All of this had progressed far faster than he had expected and desired, especially considering the current lack of sleep. 

All through the night they had flown to the lake city, as much as their whippers had tried to dissuade them. Flying in the dark poses quite a danger so they had travelled only a bit faster than a running pace and kept close to the ground so that Trym could guide with his voice. Arriving in Teeburr with the sunrise, he had wanted nothing else but to crash somewhere soft and sleep till the afternoon. So of course somebody would find a corpse on the lake's shore an hour before their arrival. 

Yis would be along any moment too. Trym had wanted a report as soon as she had one and he had little doubt that she would be anything but punctual. Nothing to act on yet, of course. Who knows how many other Siren may be traveling in secret with Yis' 'friends'. They needed to be patient. More patient than waves beating a cliff. 

"We figure out who in the guards we can trust," Trym said at last. "Any Sirens in town will be tipped off by now. They might try and contact the ones we're after so we can't expect to be facing just one or two targets like we have in the past. There could be a real battle in the future." 

"That's what I like to hear," Blondie hissed excitedly. 

Trym smiled despite the nerves beneath. Hunting a large group of Sirens means bringing lots of allies. But how can you figure out who your allies are? 

=== 

"Ronav," came a whispered voice. It sounded female, familiar. 

"Mrnh," he grunted and looked up, straight into the morning glare as its sunlight sabers pierced through the trees. With a hiss, Ronav clamped his eyes shut and moved his head to safety before opening them again. A dirty face was peering at him from behind a log. "Morning Yis..." 

"Quol?" she replied. 

Somehow that word, more than her presence, stirred Ronav into wakefulness. "Yis! You're back!" He shot upright and his head swirled immediately. 

Yis, meanwhile, darted away, ever her shy and timid self. So why come here in the first place with the very creatures she feared. But a quick glance revealed that the two of them were alone at the campsite. 

"Where are the others?" Ronav asked. 

"Quol?" Yis cocked her head. 

Ronav rubbed his eyes. "Right... quol. You're not leading a band of killers after us, are you?" 

Only a confused stare and some blinks were returned for that question. Where had Vyla gotten to? He hadn't seen her turn in for the night. Come to think it, he hadn't seen her since that fiasco on the hillside. What happened to interrogating Yis? He needed a translator and, if the muffled noises Ronav had heard last night on his way past the Vouiareli tree had been any indication, only one of the Sirens was presently available. 

On the other hand, perhaps Vyla had a fair bit to mull over. Ronav wondered whether or not he should try to involve himself in that respect. How does one go about comforting a Siren? He couldn't decide if tender words would fan the flames or smother them. Even now he could imagine her responses. 

Vyla, don't think you're weak. I don't think you are. 

And you're such an expert, sye? 

You could easily beat me in combat. 

Because a Shasling is such a challenge. You think me killing you would be worth the second it takes...? 

No, best to let things run their natural course and, maybe, add a little nudge when the chance arose. 

"Ronav." 

A set of worried eyes greeted his gaze. Yis had one arm outstretched and he could tell that she wanted to lead him away from the campsite. 

"No... lu." 

Yis' timid smile turned to an angry pout. Dirt and dust kicked up as she jetted into the air. Ronav expected her to fly off but instead she perched on an overhanging branch and continued to glare. Despite her age, that face made her look like a bitter child. 

"Yis, I'm safe with—" 

The undergrowth behind him began to rustle with crashing footsteps over the top. Yis' eyes went wide and Ronav twisted around to see Zeerae and Nimtith emerging. The Siren had a suspicious grin upon her face while the Chayli looked a bit uncertain. As though he had just overstepped a boundary that he wasn't quite sure existed. Ronav knew the feeling. 

"Good, we're all up," Zeerae said with far too much cheer. She went to the packs, pulled out a strip of dried meat and sat upon one of the logs before tearing in. "Nimtith has something to say, first of all." 

"Wait, Vyla's not here," Ronav butted in. 

Zeerae shrugged then nodded towards Nimtith who looked a little put-off at being in the spotlight. 

"Uh, I guess I'm traveling with a bunch of Sirens," he said. 

"Two Sirens," Zeerae corrected. She waved the hand with the meat at Yis and Ronav. "These ones appear as they are." 

"So where is Vyla?" he asked. "And who's this?" 

"That dirty little thing in the tree is Yis. As for Vyla..." Another shrug. "Sleeping in the woods somewhere so we don't see her skinless. The state I was in when you awoke, dearest." Zeerae patted Nimtith on the arm and he trembled the slightest bit. 

"Qual'u itri?" Yis said from her perch. "Zee sindra lalfrer?" 

"Argh," Zeerae moaned as she rolled her eyes. "Sye urmi ti ros aayv av!" 

"What did she say?" Nimtith asked. "What language was that?" 

Zeerae answered without peeling her eyes away from the Chayli girl. "Siren. She wants to know if we've stolen another land dweller. I said you want to come with us." 

"Heh, I'm not sure if want is the right word." 

"You're not going to question why a Chayli girl is speaking Siren?" Ronav asked. 

Nimtith shot a nervous grin in his direction. "At this stage it's probably the least strange thing to have happened to me recently." 

Ronav tried to force down the writhing, moaning images that those words invoked. Tried not to think of the two of them last night as they delved deeper and deeper into the legion of ocean secrets that Zeerae had locked up in her head. 

Fortunately Vyla chose that moment to come stomping back into the campsite. "So, none thought to wake me for this little meeting?" 

That voice could cut through steel, Ronav thought, grateful for the distraction nonetheless. 

"No meeting, we're just about to leave," said Zeerae. She swallowed the last of her breakfast then shot to her feet. "Let's load up those snakes and be off." 

"Argh." Nimtith clutched his forehead. "How are we going to fly now? I'm the only whipper." 

Zeerae cocked her head at the man. "What do you mean, dear? I still have a license." 

"But you're a Siren," said Nimtith. He recoiled immediately, and held up his hands, when those words brought narrowed eyes from both the creatures. "No wait, what I mean is: what happens if you fall?" 

"We won't," said the Sirens together. 

"But—" 

"We won't." 

Ronav placed a hand on the Chayli man's arm. "Leave it. Just leave it." Better their new accomplice learn not to argue sooner rather than later. 

Nimtith looked at him a moment before shrugging the hand off. "Well... I guess we'd better get going?" His eyes went to Yis and everyone else's soon followed. 

"Cur zee vaevis?" Zeerae asked. 

Vyla translated. "Are you coming?" 

"Teb," Yis replied, though she didn't move. 

=== 

Now that Ronav knew where to have his head, flying didn't feel quite so miserable. The height and the wind were still an issue but the latter had lost much of its edge. At last he could simply lay forwards and watch as new parts of the Empire's lands slid by beneath him. 

They flew over hills, forests and marshes, past mountains and alongside great rivers. Nimtith filled in the names of any towns or villages they saw and Ronav forgot them again just as quickly. The world had always seemed so small when it had been confined to Ripples on the Water. It felt daunting to have everything open up like this over the last few days. 

Today would be a long flight. The last one, they were to arrive at the southern coastline sometime this evening, by Nimtith's guess. A journey hastened by a strong tail wind. 

Suddenly Zeerae swerved the crimson snake in front of Nimtith and the indigo, grinding them to an airborne halt. "We're going to land," she stated. 

"What?" Ronav and Nimtith both blurted out. "Why?" 

"Down there." Zeerae pointed to the earth some two-hundred meters below. 

Ronav's eyes followed her arm and he saw the picturesque object of her interests immediately. A crystal pond lay beneath them, surrounded by fig trees, on all sides but one, growing so close that, even from up here, they appeared to form a wall to the world outside. The ground lay bare for a short distance past the western edge of the pond before rising sharply into the shorn side of a hill. Even from here Ronav could see the beginnings of a crevice in the rock face. A cave, perhaps? 

"What's so special about—" 

"Here is what's so special about that water! I've not had a proper swim in days which should be a long time even for a land dweller, if any of you had proper bathing habits. We're not about to pass up such a delicious looking pond just to keep schedule." Without waiting for another word, Zeerae peeled away and angled towards the ground. 

As they passed, Ronav could see Vyla clutching tight to the snake's body and looking grim as he. That sight reminded him of her injuries. Would they have healed properly by now? 

Four of them landed on the ground while Yis maintained her usual act of perching on a branch. Nimtith set about anchoring their mounts above the girl while Zeerae dove into the water immediately. 

"Glorious and chill," she squealed upon surfacing in the pond's center. 

Ronav had to admit, the water looked enticing. So pristine and clear, despite the ripples its sole occupant had made. Not like Teeburr lake or the rivers running to it. He'd rarely swam before, save that unwilling instance on the rocks several months ago. Nobody voluntarily entered the ocean around Ripples on the Water without considerable supervision. 

"You're not going to join her?" Ronav asked as Vyla sat beside him on the shore 

She shook her head but said nothing. Ronav might have filled the silence himself had Nimtith not joined them that second. 

"What's the story with that girl?" he asked in a whisper and tilted his head to the branches above. "She only speaks Siren?" 

"Mhmm." Ronav nodded. 

Yis had flown with them for the entire journey, as much as a half mile behind can be called 'with'. Her wide berth obviously stemmed from nervousness of the Vouiareli. Even now she had chosen a tree on the opposite side of the pond to where the beasts were anchored. 

"Do you know why?" 

"We're still working on that, sye." Vyla closed her eyes and lay back upon the grass. 

"Sye?" 

"Male," Ronav answered. 

"That's not—" 

"Leave it." 

Nimtith closed his mouth again and glanced briefly at Yis. "Was she raised by Sirens." 

"Presumably, though she disagrees." 

"Huh..." For several seconds it looked as though Nimtith might stay. Instead he floated towards the treetops and landed on one of the overhanging branches that grew opposite to Yis'. 

She looked at her new company in the trees. Then her eyes went back to Zeerae's playful, almost-innocent floundering in the water and Ronav found his attention wandering there as well. 

Zeerae, cunning member of the shasteless and killer of who knows how many, now frolicking in a pond. She dove into the glassy depths before breaking the surface and diving through the air. The way she swam made it seem like she had lived eons since her previous swim. 

Vyla's chest rose and fell with her breathing as she relaxed next to Ronav. "Vyla?" he asked. 

Her eyes slitted open. 

"About last night—" 

"Not now, sye." Eyes closed again. 

"Don't you want to talk about—" 

"I said not... now. What's that?" Vyla sat upright in an instant and looked across the pond to the creviced hill-face. 

Ronav followed her gaze but couldn't see anything beyond the dusty stone and the shadowed crack in it. 

"I thought I heard a voice," said Vyla. She slid to her feet, poised to move. 

The seconds ticked by with Zeerae circling around underwater and unaware of Vyla's danger-sense. Ronav began to resettle, convinced that the disturbance had been nothing but imagination. Then Nimtith and Yis fell from their trees and splashed into the pond. 

What happened next did so with lightning speed. Zeerae burst from the water in nearly the same instant that the two Chayli entered. Both arms rippled into menacing claws as her body took the spined and blackened sheen of armor. "What hap—" 

"Sko!" echoed a female voice around the pond. 

Ronav recognised the word. Rather, the implication of it. A Ralta had them in her sights and the word was one of her spells. What it meant, he didn't know. He could only feel the meaning as its effects washed over him. 

A dark haze began to fill their surroundings. Not a real one, for it existed only in Ronav's eyes. He felt tired, impossibly tired. As the crushing weight of sleep gradually pushed upon him, he had just enough time to see Zeerae and Vyla collapsing too. The same way that their Chayli friends had. All falling asleep. 

=== 

"Sirens?! You can't be serious." 

"I'm afraid there is no other explanation, captain," said Trym with a shrug of his shoulders. "We've been tracking them from Shadetree Fold." 

The captain of Teeburr's guard, Havello, his name, paced the space behind his desk. His name had reluctantly been drilled in but, with the development of Trym's plan, that had since become suitable. 

"No that— what would a Siren be doing so far inland?" Havello asked the room as much as his guests. 

"I've chased down many of their kind, captain. The more I do, the more I think that perhaps they often stray from the sea." Sharing these thoughts with their new ally had no risk. Trym and his two comrades, sitting either side, had already confirmed the captain's race when he used his magic to pull a bottle from a cupboard across the room. 

"We have to do— You have to do something. I can't have Sirens running about the town, murdering folk at will. What if this gets out? This can't get out!" Havello slumped into his seat and ran fingers through his yellow hair as he mumbled to himself. "Oh Ka it will be the end of me if word spreads. Especially after what happened last year. But my men were as certain as I that those beasts were, ugh, werechickens..." The large man shuddered. 

A silence fell over the air before Trym cleared it with a cough. "The folk of Teeburr will have nothing to flap their gums over so long as we act now. The fourth of my party is presently tracking them. If we rally a force here, we may stand a chance at running them down." 

"And we shall. At once, no less." The captain flew to his feet but was soon waved back down. 

"As eager as you may be to call the troops to arms, we would be better off with a smaller force," said Trym. 

"One that can be easily verified as not Siren," explained Glade. 

"Of course, of course... but how? If those horror stories of the Sirens that I hear from up north are true, we cannot allow our forces a moment out of sight." 

Trym offered a weak smile. Those stories were exaggerated but not by much. Siren disguises weren't completely impenetrable, just tricky. "First we test the race of each of your men individually, making sure that none are alone afterwards. Then, when the time comes to move out, we have them in pairs who are never to separate or lose sight of one another. If they do they must be tested again. The tests, at least, should be simple enough. Magic for Neynas' and Ralta, flying for Chayli and a feat of strength for Taigin." 

"I take it you've done this before?" 

"I've hunted many a Siren but never in such a quantity as this. A welcome challenge, I think." Trym cast his voice over his two companion who looked eager as he. Blondie practically sat on the edge of his seat. They were not without their flaws but Trym had yet to find better allies, if any existed. 

=== 

A sharp pounding filled the forefront of Ronav's head as his eyes slipped open. He tried to massage his temples but something bound his arms. His legs too. He looked down and saw that he lay, almost upright, upon a wooden board to which his limbs were strapped with leather. 

Trying to look around revealed that another strip of the thick hide ran across his forehead. It had been drawn so tight that it pressed his skull against the wood behind. 

"What is this?" Ronav wondered aloud. His eyes wandered the the large, dank room in which he had awoken. Against the far wall he spied a pair of cages, shrouded in the gloom. 

"A dungeon, clearly," came Vyla's voice from the one on the right. Her prison looked odd, somehow, though he couldn't tell why at this distance. 

"What happened?" Ronav asked. 

"We were attacked. A Ralta sound sorceress with a sleep spell." 

"You don't need to say Ralta and sound sorceress. Only the Ralta can work sound magic." 

"Sye, at this point, I hardly care." 

To be blunt, Ronav didn't quite know why he had bothered to correct Vyla, given their present situation. Instead he put the subject back on track. "Where are the others?" 

"You'll see them should to turn your head. They're still asleep, mind." 

Ronav nearly pulled a muscle in his neck as he tried, failed, to see. The bindings were done too strong. Though the distraction did have him spot Zeerae in the cage accompanying Vyla's. Her eyes were still closed. 




Arms of the Ocean Ch. 11



The events of earlier slowly washed back over Ronav. Funny that such peace and serenity could be shattered by something so tranquil as a sleep spell. Funnier still that he didn't feel all that bothered by the present circumstances. In reality, things didn't seem too different. They were all together, he was relatively comfortable, save the pounding headache. 

Why do I feel so calm? Ronav wondered. More importantly. "Why haven't you escaped yet?" 

"Would that I could, sye," Vyla replied. Then she slouched behind her bars and offered a more productive response. "Since it's too dim to see my prison clearly, let me explain. Our captor, no fool, has her Siren prizes bound in a mesh of razor-steel bars. The gaps are too small for my heart to fit through. But I can still do this at least." 

Ronav didn't have to wonder what 'this' might be for long. Vyla flowed through the bars and began walking across the room towards him. Only the first few steps looked normal. Then she started to shrink as she grew closer and closer until she stopped upon reaching a stature of three feet. Vyla then turned to one side to reveal a long rope of flesh extending from her back to the cage where a little, skin-colored ball sat behind the bars. 

"Too bad I can't cut you out in this state..." the miniature Vyla shrugged before flowing back to her cage. 

"You can't?" 

"If I stretched my utmost I might manage to get your legs free but your wrists are too high to reach when this thinly spread." 

Ronav held his tongue for a few seconds as he took everything in. "Any ideas on what our attacker wants?" he asked. His eyes wandered again as he said this. Their prison looked marginally smaller than the sewer room back in Shadetree Fold. Both were similarly dank but this one had little more than their cages. There were some chains hanging from the left wall and a sturdy metal door, the only visible escape, on the right. No implements of torture in sight, so long as you didn't count the strap holding his head still. 

"Only grim things, I would guess." 

"Could you try cutting yourself out of the cage? Cut through the bars, I mean." 

"You're still clueless about the limitations of Sirens, I see." The eye-rolling was nearly audible in Vyla's voice. "It would take hours to cut through a single bar and I would need to sever at least four. I doubt even our personal Shasteless would be able to hold together through something so taxing." 

"So we're perfectly trapped." Had any movement been possible, Ronav might have sagged against his bindings. "I don't think this is bothering me as much as it should." 

"Residual calmness... of the... sleep spell." Zeerae's voice came slow and tired. Too tired. "I feel it... also." 

"You've been awake this whole time?" asked Vyla, her harsh tone carrying across the room. 

"Gathering... my faculties, yes." 

It sounded strange to hear the Siren Shasteless so exhausted and out of sorts. Yet the professionalism somehow managed to shine through. 

"Any signs of our... captor?" Zeerae asked. 

"Not yet," said Ronav. 

"You sound far weaker than I did waking up," Vyla sneered. 

"You weren't up all night... exerting yourself." A soft laugh followed Zeerae's words. "That's why Nimith and... Yis aren't awake yet... I suspect. Though I don't know why Yis would be... lacking sleep." 

At that moment the metal door screeched open and a hooded woman walked in. A Ralta, as they had guessed. She didn't wear the robes that her race usually preferred. Instead she had a set of black, thigh-high leather boots and a black mid-sleeved top that started just above her stomach and ended with the Ralta-standard hood. Again, unlike so many others of this woman's kind, there were no markings on her hood as it reached down to her cheeks. The only contrast offered in her outfit came from her remarkably pale skin and her brown hair that flowed down her chest. But what really caught Ronav's eye was what she had on between her top and bottom. Barely more than a triangle of dark fabric kept the Ralta from being exposed. 

"Who are you and why did you attack us?!" Ronav shouted. 

At first it seemed as though she had ignored his question. The Ralta swept across the damp floor to stand in front of her prisoners. When she finally spoke, her voice had a curious softness to it that sounded almost polite, despite its owner's actions. "Your second question I will answer later. For now I will only say that I am Malicious. For intruding on my land—" 

"Wait, stop," said Zeerae. "Do you mean your name is Malicious or you're... a malicious individual?" 

The Ralta turned her head to the Siren's cage. "My name is Malicious." 

"Oh, that makes more sense. I was going to say, attacking travelers and all, you don't need to tell... us how malicious you are." 

"Rich words coming from a Siren." 

"My actions don't make... my words less true." 

"No, but they do make them more amusing." 

The two woman faced off for several seconds. All Ronav could hear was the sound of Zeerae's breathing, still heavy as her body recovered from the magical sleep. 

Eventually Malicious began again. "As I was— ugh, this is why I hate being interrupted. Two of you are still asleep, Oks!" The Ralta waved a hand towards the sleepers as she spoke her spellword. 

Ronav couldn't see but he heard the faint clench of bindings as Nimtith and Yis both awoke. They gasped and spluttered before the latter began panicking in Siren while the former did so in common. 

"And now they rattle on. Ora ah!" This time Malicious swept her left hand over her prisoners while her right balled into a fist. 

A rush of air fell down Ronav's throat as the spell washed over him. He opened his mouth to shout something but not even the smallest whisper escaped. 

"Now then, you disturbed the peace of my haven and for that you will serve as the next in a long line of subjects for my experiments." 

Ka damn it, Ronav thought. Why does the universe hate me? 

Malicious pointed to Vyla. "You, Siren, shall be the first." 

The Ralta woman muttered a spellword under her breath and Vyla's cage swung open with a screech along the floor. The Siren stepped out immediately and stretched her arms. 

Ronav spied a flicker of movement from Zeerae who had flowed out of her cage to watch. She was shaking her head back and forth. 

The warning went unseen and unheeded as Vyla threw herself from across the room. Her arms and legs changed to spears and blades mid flight. 

Malicious didn't flinch in the slightest at the sight of the ocean predator baring down on her. "Yava," she said with one hand pointing to the floor. 

What had been an accurate and on-point trajectory, on Vyla's part, changed when the spell took her and slapped her against the floor. A thick, sickening splat echoed around the room. 

"Disobedience will be punished severely," said Malicious. She then intoned another spellword as she spiraled one hand at the sprawled body of Vyla. A rippling torrent of sound crept from the Ralta's lips, flowed down her arm and snaked through the air to envelop the Siren. 

Vyla twisted and warped her body in countless shapes, bulging and defacing her features but the parcel of sound that had developed held fast. 

"Save your strength for the tests, please." Malicious turned around and strode from the room, dragging the magical net behind her at a distance. "Aro ah!" she commanded as she left. 

From deep in Ronav's throat, the rushing of air resumed. This time it flowed backwards and climbed out until he knew that he could speak again. Then the door slammed shut. 

"What in the void is going on?!" Nimtith shouted before anyone else had a chance to speak. "Why are we suddenly locked up?!" 

Yis, meanwhile, opted to chatter away in her Siren tongue with shrill and fearful words. 

"Xa svis!" Zeerae hissed across the room. Her voice had a cold echo to it as it bounced around the walls. 

Yis yelped softly then went silent. 

"Nimtith, our situation is thus..." Zeerae proceeded to explain, to the Chayli, everything that had unfolded while he had been asleep and what it all meant. Then she looked at Yis and did the same in Siren. 

"Perfect," Nimtith muttered. "I should have seen this coming. The second I agree to help a couple of Sirens, Ka sees fit to punish me. No less than a fool deserves, I suppose." 

Zeerae groaned. "You really think your precious Empress has a hand in this?" 

"Not a direct one, of course. The scales of good and evil work themselves in her stead. Not that a water b— Gah!" Nimtith cried in shock rather than pain. 

A dull, vibrating thunk filled the air. Ronav swore that a single blink would have blinded him to the knife that Zeerae had sprouted and thrown across the room. 

"That is what I think of your precious virtues and that is all they are good for in this place," Zeerae snarled. 

"What if you missed and hit me instead?" 

"I did miss." 

Ronav couldn't help but smile at the back and forth. A night in the forest together but now they were quarreling like age-old nemesis. Then his thoughts turned back to more important things, such as the knife. "Wait, why didn't you throw one at Malicious?" 

"Ugh. Because, dear, my cage is locked by her magic and there is no guarantee that it will dissipate with her death. I'd prefer not to spend a day carving through bars of steel." 

"But now she has Vyla." 

"Your love will be fine for now." 

"She's not—" 

"No, of course she isn't..." 

Ronav shut his mouth as he and Zeerae stared one another down. With so much distance and immobility between them, the outcome hardly mattered. "Alright then, throw one of those knives to me." 

Zeerae cocked her head. "I didn't think you would seek escape in such a way. Very well, where would you like it, the throat? In through the eye?" 

Ronav flinched. "What? No, not at me, to me! Throw it next to my hand so I can grab it and cut myself free." 

"Huh, clever boy." Zeerae's right hand emerged from her cage and flicked forwards. 

A flash of movement shot across the room before the knife thunked into the wood next to Ronav's hand. 

"Be swift, if you please. I'll need that back," said Zeerae. 

Ronav curled his left hand around in search of the blade and soon found it just beside his thumb. He wrapped his fingers around the hilt and worked it free of the wood. "What's this made of?" He asked. It definitely didn't feel like any sort of metal. 

"Myself. Our hostess took the liberty of rummaging through my body while I slept so my bag of tricks is quite bare." 

"Huh." It felt a little odd to be using a part of the Siren's body as a knife, even if it had been formed into a near-perfect replica of one. Then again, Ronav had few doubts that this constituted as mild on the strangeness scale for her. 

"Not like that," said Nimtith. "Work the blade under your cuffs, then press it up with your wrist. Really drive it in." 

"He's right, dear. We'll sooner starve if you go on slapping away at the leather," Zeerae added. 

"Fine, I just didn't— Hang on, how come you can see what I'm doing?" Ronav ceased his cutting to ask. 

Zeerae's face went blank. "Because I'm right here looking at you." 

"Not you, Nimtith." Ronav tried to jab his eyes to his left where the Chayli man was bound. Failing that, he pointed with the knife instead. 

"My head isn't tied down the way yours is," Nimtith answered. 

"Why not? Because I'm a Taigin? What am I going to do, bite my way out?" 

"Kssh," Zeerae hissed. "We can argue about our captor's racial prejudices once we're free. Void, we can even take it up with her if you really feel like it." 

Despite the Siren's logic, Ronav continued to grumble to himself as he worked the knife between the leather cuff and the skin of his wrist, nearly cutting himself open in the process. He then began the arduous task of dragging the blade back and forth, unable to tell if his efforts were having any kind of effect. "Am I even making a scratch?" he asked. 

"A small one, I think," said Nimtith. 

Zeerae slipped out of her cage, the same way that Vyla had, and crossed half the room. Barely three feet tall, she peered up at the knife. "Yes, you've definitely made a mark. Unless the binding was always worn in that spot. Be patient like the tide." 

"Easy for you to say. This is killing my hand," Ronav complained. 

"Freedom comes with a price." Zeerae shrugged and sat upon the floor rather than returning to her prison. 

"Quol'u sye kevis?" Yis asked in the silence. 

Zeerae looked at her. "Pyorvis av. Let's just hope Vyla can stall Malicious long enough." 

=== 

"It occurs to me that a spy in the ranks of Sirens may not be altogether trustworthy..." said Captain Havello to nobody in particular. 

Trym ignored the man's questioning tone and instead prodded the unnaturally-red fire that he had lit in the garrison's courtyard. A signal for Yis, though she was considerably overdue. After sundown, he had told her, when she can fly in relative secrecy and her absence won't be noticed straight away. The time now closed on midnight. 

"If Trym trusts her still, I do too," said Glade. She folded her arms and stared stoically across the flames at the captain. 

"And, captain," Trym added. "Without her we've naught but air to follow." 

"Right you might be, but what if those sea witches figure out she's working against them? She'd be a pile of bones in seconds." 

"If you have a better plan, I'm all ears." 

Captain Havello closed his mouth and went back to staring absently into the flames, lost in thought. 

Trym sighed. "You're correct, of course. Our lead is frail at best but it's the only one we have. My spy says they travel to the south sea but that still leaves hundreds of leagues to search between here and there, even if we knew exactly where along the shore they mean to reach. Not to mention we'd be storming them blind, if we're not ambushed ourselves." 

Blondie let out a nervous laugh that almost lost itself beneath the fire's crackles. "If I didn't know better, I'd say you want to give me second thoughts." 

Trym turned his head skywards, not that he needed to. His voice scanned the darkness no matter which way he faced his mouth. Still nothing and still so much to do. They hadn't bothered to start rallying the troops. The plan was to do that mere hours before setting out so as not to give any Sirens the chance to slip in. "If there's still no sign this time tomorrow we should ready the force regardless." 

=== 

Struggling, as Vyla had quickly realized, was futile. The sound that rippled and hummed around her felt closer to an impenetrable membrane rather than a voice. A strange thought to find sound so solid. She had thrashed and clawed her mightiest against it yet an opening never presented itself and Malicious continued to drag her along without a care. 

"If you mean to torture me, you'll find it a waste of time," said Vyla, now locked by similar principles to the cage before. She lay on a table with a spherical series of bars in the center which now encompassed her heart and brain. The barrier remained around her or she would have loosed a hundred slivers of bone into her captor. 

"I caren't for what you have to say," Malicious mumbled with her back turned. Her attention fell instead upon a shelf of glasses and vials. Next to it stood another table with an array of metal objects and even more glass. Vyla knew enough about Shasling things to recognize an alchemical setup when she saw one. 

"Then why capture us?" 

"Your thoughts would be better spent on your surroundings. Find satisfaction in finding the answer yourself." 

Vyla held back a snarl. Another woman who thinks herself superior. Regardless, she did as Malicious suggested and allowed her eyes to roam. This room was far smaller than the one she had awoken in. So much so that, were she not bound by the Ralta's voice, she could touch any wall despite the immobility of her vitals. 

The cages, Vyla realized. The one around her heart marked the first cage designed purely for shackling a Siren. The ones back with Ronav and the others could have held any race but this little ball of steel left no doubt. Malicious had captured her kind before, but how many and to what end? What sort of experiments required a Siren? 

As if awaiting such a cue, Malicious turned around with a vial held high. A pink liquid swirled inside as she approached her prisoner. "Your kind are sharp-minded so you've likely figured at least some of it out by now."  

"Why are you capturing Sirens?" 

"You don't want to know what happened to the ones before you?" 

Vyla stared at the Ralta's ebony hood. She had mimicked one of the eyeless race before but having to face the real thing felt a tad more intimidating. 

Malicious smiled. "No? I released them after I finished. Not from life, before you jump to conclusions. Some have even returned, and I've entertained them, but this is generally a once-per-customer service." 

Vyla narrowed her eyes then looked at the vial. "If you mean to poison me, you'll find it difficult." 

"It is a poison of sorts. But you'll like this one." With that, Malicious upended the vial above Vyla's chest. The bright fluid splashed against the sound barrier and slowly oozed down the sides. Once the last drop had left its home, Malicious flicked one hand back and forth, causing the barrier to part and seal before Vyla could react. 

The liquid felt oddly warm as it touched Vyla's skin. Reflexively she channeled the invasion to a single point in preparation for sealing away. But she faltered as it gathered and flowed through her body. Poisons, or any unwelcome substance, usually set off alarms. Pain in her flesh or an unpleasant taste. Malicious' concoction brought neither. Instead it had a strange sweetness, a flavor so uncommon in Siren cuisine. 

The warmth that the liquid brought had spread throughout Vyla's body and she welcomed it. The sensations felt pleasant, like a swim in a tropical lagoon, though not so much as to be overwhelming. It took nearly a minute before Vyla realized that she had closed her eyes but still the liquid worked its magic. 

Something new began then. The effect began to move, or so it seemed. Whereas until now it had spread slowly throughout Vyla's body, it instead slid downwards from her chest and upwards from her legs. The warmth grew quickly from a mild relaxation to a sweltering heat that culminated between her legs and set her off like the flipping of a switch. 

"Mmh!" Vyla gasped. Her hands reflexively flew towards her nethers as the illusion of clothing dissolved. 

"You'll find no relief that way," said Malicious. 

The warning fell on deaf ears. Vyla's fingers found her swift-flooding folds and she went to work. One hand began to stroke her clit while the other drove inside to tease the roof of her chasm. "W—what is, mm, this?" Vyla stammered. 

"A concoction of my own design. The name is still in the works but I'm sure you can guess half of its effects. The second part you'll soon see." Malicious dragged over a chair and sat down to watch. 

Again Malicious' words went largely unheard. Vyla had her eyes clamped closed and her face twisted halfway between frustration and release. Never had she needed to be fucked so badly. Even as she fingered herself with abandon it felt like little more than throwing a teaspoon of water into a volcano. But she could feel her climax on the horizon. Just a little longer... 

No. Vyla's eyes snapped open as she lost her tempo momentarily. Her fingers had almost brought release to her pussy but now she seemed to have a long way to go. It wasn't that the buildup had suddenly vanished, she felt no less hot or switched on than before. The goal had simply moved forwards where it continued to taunt her on the horizon. 




Arms of the Ocean Ch. 11



Not one to give up, Vyla folded over to a position where she could easily bring her tongue to her nipples. She licked one into her mouth and began teasing the tender, pink flesh. Meanwhile she stretched her folds and drove her entire hand deep inside. 

"You're only going to tire yourself out..." Malicious warned. She then held up another vial, this one filled with violet. "You're at my mercy until I give you this." 

Vyla's focus snapped to the prize in her tormentor's grasp. The hand stroking her clit managed to tear away and claw towards Malicious on the other side of the sound cocoon. 

"Uh uh," said the Ralta as she slid away. "It's no fun if I haven't a head start." 

Malicious moved to the other side of the room, far from her prisoner as possible, then waved her fingers and whispered something. 

Distracted, Vyla only just noticed that the barrier of sound had faded. The air no longer seemed muffled and stuffy but she didn't rejoice such a trivial sensation at the present. Her fingers had just sent the finish line scampering further ahead and the pyre in her nethers was reaching unfathomable levels. She wanted to cum more than she wanted to live and she knew exactly how to do so. 

Both hands and tongue still working away, Vyla shuffled off her table, barely noticing that the cage containing her vitals had been opened. She stepped onto the cool floor and staggered towards Malicious. 

"That's it, can you fight the urge better than the rest?" The Ralta's lips curled into a twisted smile beneath her black hood. 

"Give... me," Vyla huffed. She knew that her strides were a joke. She couldn't resist the urge, even as she walked, to remain hunched over with her breasts cupped towards her mouth and her hands sending juices splattering to the floor. 

Malicious held the vial high but stepped lightly out of the way when Vyla came too close. She walked to the opposite wall and leaned against it, arms folded. "You'll need to be quicker. If you want your prize, take it." 

Buried beneath the sweltering blaze of ecstasy denied, Vyla still knew what needed to be done. She had to stop teasing her nipples, caressing her folds. No more nibbling and licking titflesh, no time for finger-fucking herself. Only then could she hope to catch this prey, slow it may be. But such things are easier said than done. 

Step by step, Vyla told herself as the threshold neared again. She began by moving her arms to the side so that they no longer cupped her breasts in reach of her mouth. But, as the mounds of flesh fell back down to their resting place, her tongue extended to follow on a whim of its own. 

No, Vyla hissed. Then she sighed and her knees buckled. Maybe a few seconds more. 

Vyla's mind began to wander and she wondered how much easier this might be if she had someone with her. Ronav would be best. He could pick her up and fuck her with abandon while he carried her around the room. Her thighs slickened further at the thought of his cock driving into her this very second. Oh Queen how she wanted that. Why had she been such a fool and not tasted him again? 

Focus. Her eyes opened to spy Malicious waiting against the far wall. Vyla dragged her tongue away from her breasts, a more challenging feat she could hardly imagine. Now the hands. Not once, during all this, had they stopped their finger and stroking barrage. The one at her clit was easiest, she pulled the entire arm back into her body. Next, the hand inside her pussy that continued to finger and fist as deep as she allowed. Vyla tried to pull it out but even that set her off and she almost collapsed. 

If that's how it's to be... Without stopping to think, teeth sprouted from the lips of her pussy and, in a single motion, bit clean through her hand before pulverizing the flesh in case it somehow kept going. Then Vyla tore her wrist away before a new hand could sprout of its own accord. Even as she did this she struggled to stay above the oceanic desire to sink to the ground and indulge herself. 

"Progress... Now come take from me your prize," said Malicious. 

Vyla lifted her arms and clamped her teeth together as she concentrated on forming blades of bone. Whether or not she would be able to wield them properly, in this state, was another matter. But she had killed Shaslings before, why should this wretch be special. Yet another woman, in a line of hundreds, to think herself better than Vyla. 

"Stay... there," she tried to snarl. The boiling urge, that dwelled in her pussy and sent out rippling pulses of liquid desire, took the edge from her words. 

Malicious stepped lightly to one side as a blade came slashing, slowly, through the air where once she had stood. "Something distracting you?" she asked, her voice full of a mocking innocence. "Let me help." The Ralta brought her left hand down between Vyla's legs and stroked a single finger up the length of her pussy. 

"Ooh," Vyla moaned. Her legs gave out immediately. Bringing oneself to release was a nice way to pass the time but having someone else do the work made it that much sweeter. Not to mention the unpredictability. 

Vyla rolled onto her back and reflexively ground her hips into the Ralta's hand as she practically melted into a quivering puddle of pleasure. 

Malicious sighed as she drove her fingers deep. Her other hand joined the fray and began stroking the nub of Vyla's clit. "All you Sirens are the same. You come in here as a tower of fury and think yourselves the unchallenged pinnacle of life. Yet as soon as I have you as I have you now, all that melts away. You're butter in a child's hands." 

Vyla could only gurgle in response. Even Malicious' skilled fingers failed to bring her the earthshaking orgasm she felt on the horizon; the goals were about to move again. 

"I could let you come," said Malicious as though she were discussing something as simple as the weather. "I could. But then you wouldn't be so receptive to my other tests. Would you like to try my other tests?" 

"G—g..." Vyla mumbled. 

"Let me rephrase. Would you like me to conjure an army of magical appendages to fuck the sense out of you. Further out of you, rather." 

"Ya— yeee." 

"So I thought." Malicious stepped back, inciting a whimper as her finger withdrew. "Barovi gola jao," commanded the Ralta. Her hands went through several, intricate movements as she uttered her spellwords. Three torrents of sound emerged from her mouth and began swirling in the air. Malicious walked around Vyla, who had begun fingering herself again, despite her best efforts, and touched three spots on the floor. A pulsing spell-ribbon flowed towards each location where they planted themselves upon the stone. 

"Zanas barovi kaya." With a wave of Malicious' hand, two of the ribbons of sound wrapped around Vyla's wrists and ankles while the other positioned itself between her parting legs. Had she been less distracted, Vyla might have noticed the next change sooner. But the ribbons pulled her hands from her pussy and she whined with such heated frustration that she didn't feel the magic knit itself into an unnaturally-soft flesh. 

Only when the ribbon between her legs touched her nether lips did Vyla look down and see a coiling appendage whose head bore a striking similarity to a cock. "Ah," Vyla moaned in anticipation. Her salvation at last. She wanted to reach for the blessed thing but, so painfully aroused, her shapeshifting had become too difficult. 

"Do you want it?" Malicious asked as the magic tentacles pulled Vyla's legs wider still. 

"Mm." She nodded. The floor beneath her felt soaked from the steady stream of her juices. 

"You don't seem to. I hear no begging..." 

The cock withdrew and the ones around Vyla's legs relaxed. At this stage, any touch, any movement on her body sent shivers jittering along her back. "Please, pleeease, put it in!" 

"You call that begging? I thought Sirens were supposed to be experts in the field of sex. Or have you yourself been less successful." 

That slight should have bothered Vyla. It should have but she couldn't find the energy for anger. Not when all she wanted was to cum. "F—f—fuck me now. Oh, kas sa ti ey. I beg you, fuck me till the world grows cold." 

"That's better." 

Vyla groaned as the cock-tipped tentacles tightened again around her legs. She felt something prop her up but thought little of it as the thick, coiling member moved in on her. "Ah," she yelped in pleasure when the tip touched her slit. An explosion of the senses flickered behind her eyes. Not an orgasm, not yet, but she knew the cock would bring here there. 

"P—put it in," Vyla huffed. She could feel the tentacle dragging itself up and down her lips, stumbling over her engorged clit, but never pressing inside. Why wouldn't it invade her, fill her, fuck her? 

"I've noticed that, in this state, your kind lose control of many of their senses. That is what allows me to do this." 

A crack of skin against skin momentarily echoed over the slick sounds of Vyla's sex and her moans of pleasure. She gasped and her body spasmed as the palm of Malicious' hand struck her across the cheek. It had hurt, but only a little. Mostly the blow complimented the concoction she had been given. It excited Vyla and drove her to new heights. 

The rise of being struck only lasted a moment before her attention returned to the burning desire between her legs. The cock had begun to prod her folds. Every touch made Vyla shudder in the hope that this might be the one where it intrudes at last. 

"You must have travelled far to be here," said Malicious, her tone jovial and joking. "Are you hungry?" 

Had Vyla the faculties to reply, she wouldn't have gotten a word in. Another tentacle snaked up from the floor, coiled beneath her head to add support, then twisted around to her mouth. She watched as it touched her lips, this near-perfect replica of a Sye's blessed tool, before slowly pushing inside. She almost held her jaws closed but somehow her lips tingled with the sensation of her mouth being filled. 

"Mmm," Vyla moaned. 

The cock trembled with approval as she sucked upon it. 

"Very good," said Malicious. One hand had wandered to the triangle of fabric that held her womanhood from sight. She gave the spot a single stroke, and licked her lips, before tearing away. 

Another set of tentacles wound their way up Vyla's sides. They slid along her body and each wrapped around a breast. The tips of these appendages didn't match the rest. They were more pointed, like a true tentacle rather than some sort of penis-hybrid. Once they each arrived at a swollen nipple atop Vyla's mounds of flesh, they too began to push inside and again she found herself unwilling to deny them. 

With the new trio in place, they began to move. A slow, steady motion like waves upon a shore. Vyla could feel the tentacle in her mouth as it pushed nearer and nearer to her throat before pulling back again, only to go deeper on the next journey. The ones in her breasts pushed into tighter territory that she felt no need to loosen. Her eyes rolled back by the constant strokes of these magical lovers. 

"Gah! Yes!" Vyla cried. The cock between her legs had finally entered. It rubbed against the nerves and sent coils of bliss towards her brain. 

"Silence," Malicious hissed. 

Another slap echoed over the orgy, this one on Vyla's left breast. They jiggled into one another and, for a moment, the tentacles lost their tempo. But the delicious assault resumed swiftly enough and her senses dulled again to anything but her distant orgasm. She could see it, in a metaphorical sense, like a wave on the horizon. A bold, pink wave that promised glorious release. Why did it have to be so far? Were it not for Malicious' brew, she would have come half a dozen times by now. So Vyla resolved to ignore all else lest the wave somehow slip away again. 

Slip away it did. 

"Noo!" Vyla cried as she felt the distance grow. No less scorching in her pussy yet so much further. The second the cock between her legs had pushed to her absolute depth, the orgasm had flitted away. 

"The potion still flows through you," said Malicious. She held the second vial high, dangling above her captors body. "You still need this, remember?" 

"G—g—g—," were Vyla's only sounds. 

"G—g—give it to you? No, take it. See if you can pull yourself from that mess." 

Had Vyla wanted to, which she wasn't sure she did, she knew that her body would never allow her to pull free of the soaking ruin she had succumb to. Her legs felt limp and clumsy, so too did her arms. 

"Would you tell me every secret of the sea were I to promise you release?" Malicious asked. 

The cock that pumped into Vyla's mouth withdrew for her to speak. "Nya... nya," she grunted as she choked back the urge to give in. Few secrets she knew but never would she surrender them to a Shasling, no matter the torture. 

"Really?" Malicious tilted her head to one side then snapped her fingers. 

The mouth tentacle replaced itself and the rest hastened their penetration. The Ralta uttered something under her breath and Vyla gasped as the cock between her legs split in two. Both grew to their original size and began an alternating barrage of thrusts, stretching her pussy to its limits. She might have changed the shape of her tunnel had it not been so incredible to be this filled. 

"And now?" Malicious asked. 

Another heave of denial escaped Vyla's throat, humming around the cock that had chosen to remain this time. Her slitted, near-delirious eyes caught a slight shiver from the Ralta. Could she feel what the magic was doing? Curious, Vyla pulled up her tongue and licked its tip over the head of the tentacle in her mouth. 

"Mm, stubborn girl. But many of your kind have made it further and just as many have promised more than what I ask." 

Another spellword caused ribs to grow along the cocks that ploughed Vyla's breasts. Every ripple, every flex, rolled from her chest as her nipples were forcibly undulated. 

"Any changes of heart?" 

Vyla hissed, not out of fury or hatred but out of fear that any words she meant to say would spill as 'yes' instead. Even though her brain fought tooth and nail to defy this woman, her body had succumb ages ago. It spoke with a voice of its own. 

Give in. 

You want this more than I do. 

Queen knew she did. 

"Yes!" Vyla shrieked. The tentacles ceased to let her talk. Now that the dam had opened, the river flowed out. "Please let me come. Gods, goddesses, queen above all, let me come and take any and all I know and fuck me all you wish. All you want is yours," Vyla babbled. 

A smile spread across Malicious' lips. "You forgot the magic word. Maestra." 

Vyla gulped. The Siren word for 'master', one of few that were unusually close to their Shasling counterparts. "M—Maestra," she said, her voice trembling. 

"As the slave desires." 

She didn't notice the first drops. Her mind had other things vying for attention. Nor did Vyla feel the brew as it spread through her body, absorbed by every inch of flesh. She only noticed the effects. 

Since first being subjected to Malicious' alchemical creations, a wave had been building on the cusp of Vyla's senses, always out of reach. That wave had grown mountainous in height. But now it came crashing down. 

The orgasm surged up from Vyla's pussy and her voice rose in an ecstatic cry to match. She thrashed as much as the still-thrusting tentacles would allow, her mouth, breasts and nether-lips aching in the sweetest of ways. 

"Aaaaah!" She wailed, eyes clamped shut while her fingers and toes flexed in directions that would break them were she any other creature. Colors, that she would never normally display, pulsed from feet to forehead to match every throb, beat and roil that the cocks produced. Such was the high that she hardly noticed as each member jetted some magical load into her openings. Gush after gush, the tentacles ejected, as if matching their lover's orgasm. 

Vyla had no way of telling how long she had come. Her entire body had become soaked with sweat, and other juices, from the process. Her senses returned at a slow and gradual pace, steady as the tentacles that continued their welcome plowing of her body. 

"Good..." Malicious sighed. She had sunk to the floor at some stage and a substantial wet spot showed on the fabric that 'covered' her womanhood. "Worth the wait?" 

Vyla moaned. Speech still seemed distant and difficult. 

"So I thought," said Malicious as she rose. She went to her table and some glassy clinks sounded before she turned around, a new vial in hand. "But we are far from finished." 

All Vyla could manage was another moan. No matter how good it may be, sex should never be confined to one climax. 

=== 

"Aha! I think I've got it!" Ronav shouted in triumph. It felt like several hours had passed since he first began working the knife through one of his bindings. He flexed his wrist and pulled forwards, producing an audible groan of leather. 

"Hurry up then," said Nimtith. 

Zeerae merely watched on with curiosity as she sat against the back of her cage. 

"My arm's nearly numb." Ronav pulled on regardless and the strap cried in stress. A few seconds passed before a loud snap rang throughout the dungeon. Exhausted from the process, Ronav couldn't keep his arm from swinging through the air, as the leather broke, and slapping himself between the legs. "Gah!" he cried. With one hand free he could double-over partway. 

"Ahaha," Zeerae snorted with laughter. "Oh, seeing that almost made this all worthwhile..." 

"Funny." Ronav cupped his groin as though doing so would drive off the sharp, throbbing pain that he had inflicted. 

"Come on, you've still got your other hand to free. And your legs as well," said Nimtith. 

"I am doing all the work, you know..." Ronav muttered. Regardless, he reached overhead and soon located the second strap and its buckle. 

"Hey, it's not like I'm not grateful but we're still in peril here," Nimith replied. 

"I wouldn't be so sure," said Zeerae. "Something tells me that our hostess doesn't mean to harm us. Not physically, at least, in spite of what her experiments may be." 

Ronav silently agreed with the Siren. That same reasoning, along with the menial work in escaping, had served to keep him calm once Malicious' sleep spell had worn off in its entirety. Nimtith, on the other hand, had had no qualms about voicing his troubles whenever they boiled over. Yet Yis had been oddly quiet. 

"How's Yis doing?" Ronav asked. Her sleep spell should have waned too. Maybe her silence stemmed from nobody to listen. Nobody that she liked, at least. 

"She's sleeping again," Zeerae answered. 

"Sleeping?" Ronav twisted to see but the forehead strap held him tight. "How could she be sleeping?" 

Zeerae shrugged. "Her eyes are closed." 

"That may not be sleep," said Nimtith. His tone suggested that he had only now put his fears aside to check on his fellow Chayli. 

"Yis?!" Ronav shouted. He tore his right hand free at last and they both flew to start on the binding around his head. With all his digits available he made short work of the straps that remained. 

Having been still for so long, the sudden movement of stumbling onto the stone floor made Ronav's muscles seize and he fell to his knees. Tendons stung and bones ached from the agonizing position that he had been trapped in. But there was no time to put his body's cries to rest. Ronav groaned to his feet and staggered towards the wall-panel that held Yis. 

"She's not sleeping," said Ronav once he reached her. The girl's scrunched features and tense body made that blindingly clear. He placed a hand on her shoulder and gave her a gentle shake. "Hoy Yis, are you okay?" 




Arms of the Ocean Ch. 11



"If she's not sleeping she's likely afraid," said Zeerae. 

"Like this?" 

"Put yourself in her skin, my dear. She's a wild girl beset with fear at the slightest hint of it. Imagine her thoughts on awakening in a place like this. No doubt she closed down the second that spell's calming effect finally left." 

Ronav noted what Zeerae had said but he didn't let it bring him down. "Yis, it's okay," he said softly as he reached for one of her cuffs and began undoing it. "You're with friends, you're safe." Of course, Ronav knew that she wouldn't understand. He meant for his tone to sooth rather than the words themselves. 

Zeerae, however, took it upon herself to translate. When she did, Yis' face scrunched further and she whimpered a little. 

"I take it she doesn't want to hear from me..." said Zeerae. 

"Right now I'd be more worried about what this lass will get up to once she's loose," Nimtith added. 

Ronav ignored the other Chayli. He hadn't been with them long enough for his opinion on Yis to count. Instead Ronav's attention went to his fingers as they fumbled with the bindings around Yis' ankles. 

"Oof," he grunted as a knee struck him the chest. 

Freed, Yis shoved past her savior and took wing immediately, leaving a gust of air in her wake. 

Zeerae frantically shouted something. "Yis, ke'us, sa'u—" 

A thud cut the Siren off and Ronav twisted around while a sickening dread filled his stomach. Crumpled by the door he spotted Yis' body, totally still. 

Ronav bolted across the room and skidded to the Chayli's side. She'd been plainly panicked but enough to not consider the door being locked? 

"Yis?!" said Ronav as he shook her. 

No response. A bump was forming on her forehead and the palms of her hands looked quite scuffed. At least they had taken most of the impact. 

"She needs help." 

"Let me see." Several seconds passed before Zeerae appeared at his side. So far from her cage she stood barely more than three feet tall. "She'll be fine, not counting the colossal headache that will follow awakening. She cushioned herself well." 

"How do you—" 

"I know my way around a bit of Shasling medicine. But... seeing her like this gives me an idea..." 

Ronav watched as the miniature Zeerae shuffled sluggishly around the side of Yis' head. The Siren looked so strange in this state. Like a toddler but lacking the bulbous proportions that came with such an age. An adult who— 

Ronav's focus snapped back in time to see Zeerae's tiny hands turn to knives. "Don't!" he cried. 

Too late. Zeerae slashed her pinprick blades across Yis' forehead. Without thinking, Ronav swatted the minuscule Siren away. 

"Are you crazy?!" he shouted. 

"Touch me like that again and I'll take your hands," Zeerae snarled as she landed. 

"What's going on?" Nimtith asked from across the room. 

"She's trying to kill Yis." 

"Not quite, now let me— No, look at me." Zeerae raised her hands for calm. 

Ronav stayed where he was, huddled over Yis' body and positioned between her and the Siren. "Don't touch her." 

"Let me explain..." Zeerae said slowly. 

"Go on." 

"If I kill her I can—" 

"No more killing!" Ronav snarled. 

"Sye, pay attention." Only the tension in Zeerae's words compelled him to do so. "You too, Nimtith," Zeerae added. Then her eyes flitted to the door and back. Twice. "Understood?" 

Ronav frowned. The Siren clearly had a message in mind; the fact that part of her grander scheme might involve harming Yis claimed most of his interest. 

"Malicious is cunning," said Zeerae, her eyes flitting between the door again. 

She could be listening in, Ronav realized. So they were talking in riddles now. But riddles that also had to keep from appearing as such. That had to be where this Yis-killing part fit in. 

Zeerae cocked her head. Do you follow? the action read. 

Ronav nodded. 

"If I kill Yis..." Zeerae paused as though she expected another bout of protest. None came. "If I kill Yis I can fashion her bones into tools and we might be better equipped to escape." A slow nod followed and Zeerae's eyes begged for understanding. 

"You're sick, sea-demon!" Nimtith shouted. 

Ronav couldn't tell if the Chayli had managed to keep up but there were bigger things to consider at the moment. What Zeerae was trying to say, for example. 

"We need to be quick," Zeerae continued. "The damage we inflict may betray out intentions to Malicious and she may see fit to remove Yis from our presence. Or what is left of her." Another slow nod followed. 

A spark of understanding dawned on Ronav. Zeerae wanted Yis to be taken away, not killed. 

"Then what?" Ronav asked, hoping that the Siren would know the part of the plan to which he referred. 

"I imagine we won't get far on bones alone. No doubt there is powerful magic guarding this place. But most such practitioners who seclude themselves like this have some means of communicating with the outside world. A scrying orb or a singing shell, Malicious will have either. If we can find it, we can send for help." 

Ronav nodded. Have Yis taken away so that she can retrieve a means of messaging, it sounded simple enough. But even so, he wondered if their captor might still decipher what they were planning. Ralta had such odd ways of perceiving the world. Malicious could be using her voice to see into the room this very moment. Or she could be someplace else, entirely oblivious to the developing plan. 

Can fortune be with me just this once, Ronav wondered, thinking back over the week. "Okay, do it." He felt as though he lacked the finer details of this plan. He also trusted in Zeerae enough to let her proceed regardless. 

Instead of moving towards Yis, Zeerae walked back to her cage. "Malicious will be back soon. I'll make my move after she leaves." 

"We're just going to leave her like that?" Ronav asked, nodding to the Chayli girl's crumpled and peaceful body. 

"There's naught we can do but let her rest. Her breathing is steady and strong, she will be fine until I begin." 

He nodded and wandered back to the board that had once held him. At the very least it provided something softer to rest against than a stone wall. 

"So... are you going to free me or not?" Nimtith asked. 

=== 

Zeerae leaned her back against the rear of her cage. Across the room, Ronav busied himself with undoing their whipper's bindings. Whatever happened next hinged on Yis. Zeerae's eyes flitted to the body of the girl as the wheels in her head turned through her current plan. Yis would be the easiest to free. Somehow. 

I hope you have friends, wild girl. Fetch for me your allies with their fire and steel and storm this wretched place. Save your precious Ronav. 

Maybe it was the unnatural, midday sleep casting visions, but it looked as though Yis stirred.



Arms of the Ocean Ch. 12



"You're a liar, a thief, a killer. Worse still you've disobeyed me. So answer this, why should I indulge your desire?" Malicious asked. Her thumb and index finger pinched the slightest bit harder around Vyla's right nipple, then twisted a little. 

"Shhaa," she hissed. A perfect mix of pleasure and pain but it only excited Vyla further. As their session continued, she had been subjected to a second dosage of the orgasm-sealing mixture. So, yet again, Vyla found herself squirming like a jellyfish in the grasp of her tormentor. 

"Well?" Malicious asked as she twisted further. Her other hand, meanwhile, occupied itself by stroking its index and middle finger on either side of Vyla's pussy. Never did the digits stray so close that they might caress and excite the hungry lips. 

"Pleeeaase, yah!" Vyla yelped. One of the fingers lower down had just brushed her clit. A touch as soft as a feather teasing a cloud but, at this stage, it sent tingles up her back. 

"You've been a terrible test subject. Giving in so quickly to desire, failing to properly describe your experience." 

"Was—" 

"Hush!" 

Vyla flinched and a slap rang out. Her breasts bounced together with Malicious' blow. The skin had begun to redden from all the disobedience. 

The Ralta breathed out through her nose and her composure returned. "As I was saying, you even failed to put on an impressive show. I don't think you deserve this yet." With a wave of her hand, Malicious returned the violet potion to its shelf across the room. 

Vyla's heart sank but she couldn't focus on the feeling for long. Presently, her deepest desire was to be speared through the pussy by something long, wide and oh so hard. A nice, meaty dick, preferably, though at this stage she would have just as readily accepted any other appendage. A toy of some sort, one of those tentacles from earlier. Vyla bit her lip and moaned at the thought of being filled to the walls with a cock-shaped object. 

No matter her desires, none could come about unless the Ralta let it be so. After the first orgasm, so far the only one, Malicious had coaxed Vyla over to the wall where her wrists, biceps, ankles, and thighs were shackled to the stone. In such a high state of arousal, and riding the glow of climax and magical mixtures alike, only the simplest of shape shifting seemed in the realm of possibility. So Vyla could only hope helplessly that her yearning for cock would be granted by the Ralta. 

Be good, lusted her pussy, dripping with desire. Be so good and maybe she will fuck you. Better, perhaps she will go down the hall and fetch Sye to do the deed himself. 

Kssh, Vyla snarled to silence the inner voice. She had given in once already. One time too many. Now she would win her orgasm with only the bare minimum of degradation. Besides, she didn't need to go opening herself at every opportunity like that sea-bitch still in her cell. How could sex be used as a tool of leverage when offered so readily? 

Yet all these thoughts were mere whispers in a storm compared to the pulsing, boiling desire between her legs. Malicious allowed barely any relief to flow through; her fingers had gone from pinches and twists to feathered touches upon Vyla's nipples and nothing down below. 

"Now then," the Ralta began. "Until such a time as you prove yourself worthy of reward, how might you serve me?" 

Even in her addled state, Vyla could tell that Malicious merely thought aloud. Regardless, she couldn't stop herself from voicing a suggestion. "Ride cocks. Your magic. Give it to me." 

"Mmm... no, I don't think so," said Malicious, her voice distant. "I think I can safely conclude that you like to be fucked. Something more elaborate, I dragged you over here for a reason, after all." 

A sigh escaped Vyla as Malicious stepped away and all stimulation ceased. The Ralta pursed her lips in thought. 

Meanwhile, Vyla could feel the dribbling juices that coated her thighs and pussy. The cold air upon her soaking skin should have driven back arousal but, if anything, the knowledge that she could be so wet, so ready, and, at the same time, so empty, somehow only added to her thirst. So empty indeed, her core almost cried at the pain of it. A wound that needed a very specific bandage. 

"Ah, I know." A smile crept across Malicious' face. "The other Siren, she is a good friend of yours, correct?" 

"N—no. Hate her." 

"Good. It will make this next part that much more delicious." Malicious cleared her throat then breathed out slowly as she composed herself. Once finished, she began the spell, her arms and hands moving in intricate patterns as they wove her voice. "Barovi gola matranis, zana barovi kaya, hyani mo saal." 

Vyla knew enough about sound magic to understand that a spell with so many sounds and words to it would have to be particularly complicated and powerful. The rippling streams of magic wrapped together from the floor and upwards, similarly to how the tentacles had formed. Vyla's heart fluttered with anticipation at the thought of being passionately speared mere seconds from now. 

The words didn't form into tentacles this time. Two feet appeared instead, then ankles and up to knees. Thighs, hips, stomach, chest, breasts, shoulders and a three-way fork for the arms and head. A being of sound stood before Vyla, shimmering with the pure magic that formed its body. Once all the sound had flowed into place, it began changing to develop more distinct features. Pink skin, the nubs of nipples and clit, the lips of pussy and mouth, flowing, aqua hair, razor teeth... 

Please no... Vyla thought when she finally connected the dots. But her hopes were shattered when the spell came to completion. Barely three feet away from her stood a magical replica of Zeerae. 

"Mm, such a tasty pet," Malicious purred. She cupped one hand under the replica's chin and pulled it in. Both the Ralta and her creation shared a deep kiss, the former moaning, the latter silent. Tongues were exchanged and arms wrapped around one another, their breasts pressing between bodies. 

The seconds ticked by before Malicious pulled away. False Zeerae returned her attention to Vyla who took the chance to get a good look at the creation. 

There was something off about it. All the major details were correct; the minor ones were where it went wrong. Zeerae had a strange blurriness about her and she appeared slightly... flatter, somehow. So too did the room's lighting fall on her in an irregular manner. She cast no shadow, for one. Not on the floor nor anywhere on her own body. Nonetheless, the naked figure stirred Vyla's longing. 

"Fine craftsmanship, wouldn't you agree?" Malicious asked. She reached over and thumbed one of Zeerae's nipples, causing the 'Siren's' lips to form into a silent sigh. 

Malicious's hands wandered over her creation, playing and teasing as they went. Eventually she found her way to the Siren's legs. "What's this? Something's missing," Malicious gasped. "Barovi gola jao." 

Zeerae arched her back as the spell worked its way between her legs. Sound turned solid then to flesh as Malicious gave it shape. Once finished, she pulled away to reveal the large cock that now grew where Zeerae's clit had been. 

"Unlike you, this one is a very obedient assistant," said Malicious as she stroked her construct's member. "See the way she looks at you? See the hunger in her eyes? She loves to fuck girls who disobey. If only she could speak. Then you would hear how much she begs to be let off her leash." 

Vyla didn't need to be told. She could see the emotions that Malicious described. Even as Zeerae rolled back against her creator, sizable chest rising and falling with false, lust-filled breaths, her eyes found Vyla, pupils wide with yearning. 

No, Vyla told the Siren as much as she told herself. This would be the last straw, the ultimate insult. She found little comfort in the fact that the being before her wasn't the real thing. Yet even as she thought these things, her nethers disagreed. There, being stroked barely a foot away, sprouted the object of her present desires. Did it really matter whose legs it stood between. And stand it did, high enough that Zeerae could fuck her own breasts if the whim took her. 

"Ah, but where have my manners gone?" Malicious asked the room and her stroking ceased. 

Zeerae pouted but soon had her own hands taking up the charge. 

"We have a guest," the Ralta continued. "And guests should be the first to sample the house's menu." 

The lips of Zeerae's copy curled back into a smile. She took a half step closer, all she needed for her throbbing member to be outside her target's entrance. 

Vyla looked the magical creature over once again. A fake of someone she loathed, but a fake nonetheless. Did it really matter? Did she even truly care? 

Fine, Vlya thought and she added a nod. 

Zeerae slid to her knees. Her tongue curled out from her mouth and crept towards Vyla's pussy. The meaty appendage felt as though it buzzed or vibrated gently when it came into contact with the top of Vyla's nethers and she gasped at the shiver it sent through her. Then Zeerae slowly rose to her feet again, dragging her tongue up her soon-to-be lover's body. Stomach, underside of breasts, over the top and across one nipple, two, lingering on both. 

The journey continued, up and up, under Vyla's chin but flicking away before reaching her lips. Zeerae pulled back to flash a smile. Then the Siren leaned in again and finally placed her mouth upon Vyla's. Even this creature's lips seemed to hum with energy. 

Vyla sighed as she kissed the creation. Strange to derive such enjoyment from something she knew to be fake. But it looked real enough, especially in the place that counted most. 

Their kiss lasted as long as the one passed between her and Malicious and when they finally parted, Vyla knew exactly what she wanted next. 

As though channeling her true self, Zeerae seemed to see it too. Her hands wandered the curve of Vyla's waist, sliding down over the hips to her thighs, then up again. After a few passes, Zeerae finally took hold and soon the vibrating head of her cock arrived at Vyla's entrance. 

"Go," she commanded. There had been plenty of foreplay already. No need to take things slow anymore. 

Zeerae rocked forwards on her feet and Vyla hissed in pleasure as her walls stretched to accept the offering. She clamped tight upon the solid member and the vibrations it produced coursed through her body. 

Finally Zeerae reached the limit of her cock and the first stroke pushed to an end. Vyla sighed and shuddered. Even though she knew she couldn't come, it still felt incredible to be penetrated by such a miraculous appendage. 

"Good, isn't she," said Malicious. "Sometimes, on lonely nights, I summon one with another face and force her to ride me until morning. I weave my magic so that she only tires once I've finished. Would you like the same?" 

"Yeeeeees," Vyla moaned. 

"Really? Even if it means being unable to come from the session? Or would you prefer I give you the second mixture now?" 

"Nnnow." In reality, all Vyla really wanted was for the movement to start again. Zeerae still waited with her cock buried all the way and, while the vibrations were nice, what was sex without movement? 

"But if I give it to you now, you'll come too swiftly and this, mm, poor beauty will miss out." Again Malicious brought her lips to those of her creation. Her right hand wandered to the space where Vyla and Zeerae met at the breasts. "No, I think you, oh... you need to give, mm, your new friend some time," said the Ralta between the meeting of mouths. 

Vyla rolled her head back against the wall as Zeerae took her queue to continue. The tunnel between Vyla's legs trembled in time with the cock withdrawing from it. Malicious continued to kiss and knead the breasts of her creation as it pulled out to the very edge before thrusting back in. 

"Guh," Vyla grunted as she felt the magic penis reach its limit once again. 

Zeerae steadily sped her thrusting and Vyla pushed against the wall to match. Her head lazily rolled around as she swam among the sensations assaulting her body.On the rare occasions that her eyes fluttered open, she caught a glimpse of Malicious hugging her creation from behind, the two of them craning necks so that their mouths could meet. 

Eventually Vyla couldn't find the strength to stop her head from rocking forwards. Zeerae chose that moment to pull away from Malicious and prop her partner up instead as she rhythmically pounded away. Both Sirens met at the forehead, one silent, the other uttering whimpers and moans of ecstasy. 

Never before had Vyla been with a mute. So strange to be lacking any audible feedback, not that she could have acted on it anyway. Perhaps if the cock within her folds hadn't been so perfectly fitted, or hummed in such a stimulating way, she might have cared. 

Zeerae's speed was nearing its peak and her features twisted in such a way that it looked as though she might come at any second. Then she did. 

It shocked Vyla, at first, to feel the heat splashing within her pussy. How could a construct of sound produce any seed at all, let alone the quantity that this one managed. It only took a few blasts before the fiery liquid overflowed down Vyla's thighs. 

"Surprised?" Malicious asked. "This part of the spell took a while but it was well worth it, I feel. It's just not the same otherwise, is it?" 

Voicing her agreement seemed a distant impossibility so Vyla remained quiet, save for huffs of pleasure, as the copy continued to fuck her. It had barely slowed as it came. 

"Bah, enough watching," said Malicious. 

Vyla gasped, then moaned, as Zeerae stopped her thrusting to slowly withdraw. She stepped away, cock still standing rigidly at attention and bouncing as she walked. 

"N— please," Vyla begged. To be penetrated so passionately and now this? Torture. 

"Hush, I think it's time you have your gift." 

Vyla's eyes shot to the Ralta who held the vial filled with a violet liquid. Several drops splattered against Vyla's bare skin but, unlike before, those drops soon turned to a trickle, then a stream, until every bit had been upended. 

Thus were the floodgates opened. All of Vyla's body clenched at once before shuddering in a single, impossibly-wonderful shiver. She curled against the shackles on the wall, squealing with joy as her nethers convulsed and rolled with the tide. It didn't matter that nothing occupied her at the moment. She had had more than enough stimulation this past while to simply lay back, so to speak, and let the waves rock her body. 

Rock they did. The intensity of Vyla's climax built from a low but it built with startling speed. She soon found herself swimming against the onslaught of sensations, even as she giggled and moaned. Her eyes lost focus and the room turned black as every one of her senses drowned. 

Lights exploded behind her eyes and she ground her thighs together in a desperate effort to keep the high going. Every second seemed to bring a new pulse of energy that always tasted, sounded and felt different to the one before. 

Then it ended, fading out as the world faded back in. Vyla found herself laying sideways on the floor in a pool of hers and Zeerae's juices. She tried to move but her muscles still trembled at the thought of any burden. 

"Here, let me help." 

Malicious' hand appeared in front of Vyla's face and she took it. When she looked up, she saw that the Ralta had stripped of everything but her hood which exposed only her cheeks, nose and mouth. 

Even nude, Malicious somehow maintained an air of poise and professionalism. Her brown hair ran in twin curtains that flowed over her modest breasts with arms folded beneath. Without the tiny triangle of fabric, not that it had hidden much in the first place, there was nothing to distract from the Ralta's wide hips and bare vagina. Nothing save for the massive cock that suddenly grew there. 

"Turn around. Stay on your hands and knees," Malicious commanded. 

Vyla glanced behind herself and guessed what they meant to do as soon as she saw Zeerae waiting. She no longer wanted to stop herself. Never before had she been twice-speared. The pleasure sisters only granted two-on-one sessions to the worthy Sirens, a category that had forever eluded her. No longer. 

Zeerae didn't wait for consent. She grabbed Vyla by the head and presented her cock an inch from Vyla's lips. Meanwhile, from behind, Malicious stepped between Vyla's legs and gently parted them with her feet. 

Vyla looked up at the construct before her. It smiled affectionately and stroked an index finger up and under her chin. Vyla licked her lips and parted them with her tongue which snaked through the air before brushing the underside of Zeerae's member. 

Perhaps excited by the action, Malicious chose this moment to position her own magical penis at the entrance to her assistant's cave. The tip of the Ralta's cock nudged at Vyla's lower lips and she clenched reflexively around something that had yet to penetrate. 

Zeerae took her taut-skinned rod in one hand and brushed the head across Vyla's mouth, moving cheek to cheek. Then the construct knocked upon Vyla's lips and they parted. 

Malicious must have spent weeks working on the spell for Zeerae's member tasted exactly how it should. The warmth it gave off as it slid past Vyla's teeth and across her tongue felt just as perfected. 

Again the fake Zeerae found the hair of its moaning partner and it ran its fingers through the curtains of inky black. Vyla coiled her tongue around the Siren's cock and spiraled back and forth in the hope that obedience and good service might bring reward. 

Success. Malicious' hands grasped the shapely curve of Vyla's hips and her cock began to press inside. Only when it stretched and relaxed her lips did she realize that the Ralta had formed her member with ribs along the length. Every bump and rise sent another pulse up Vyla's spine. 

Both attackers stopped once their cocks had reached the limit. They leaned over their sex toy and met in the middle. By twisting around partway, in frustration that they hadn't continued, Vyla could see Malicious and her creation wrap their arms around each other. They kissed with the passion of long-time lovers before Zeerae slid down her creator's body to nibble at nipples. They swapped every few seconds, kissing again during the transition, for nearly a minute. 

"So, my sexy love, has this delicious feast between us simmered long enough?" Malicious asked. 

Zeerae licked her lips. Her hips trembled a little as though anxious to resume. 

Vyla's eyes rolled and she moaned as Malicious withdrew her cock until only the absolute tip remained inside. Then she began to push back in at the same time that Zeerae started pulling out. They moved with patience and practice as they built into a pattern. One entering, the other exiting, so that Vyla never found herself empty. 

As the seconds ticked by, Malicious seemed to grow more in tune with her creation. Their thrusting built in speed and Vyla found herself pushed one direction then back the other way. The assault was such that she could no longer find the strength to move. Her tongue didn't swirl around the member in her mouth, nor did she flex her vaginal muscles upon the cock that pounded relentlessly inside her. It took virtually all her willpower just to remain upright. The only thing that kept her going, save the delicious and ceaseless barrage of pleasure, was the knowledge that, should she collapse, the party would have to meet a delay. Vyla couldn't imagine anything worse right now than having the ride come to an end, even if temporary. 




Arms of the Ocean Ch. 12



"Mm," she moaned with every breaching thrust. They were forceful but such was welcome at this stage. Foreplay or gentle, tender loving seemed such a distant pastime. Almost a novelty compared to a solid fucking like this. 

Malicious leaned over and moved her hands to Vyla's breasts where she began to knead and tease the considerable assets. 

"You love to be ridden like this, don't you?" Malicious whispered, her voice coated in lust. "For all the fury of your kind, you each melt away as soon as there's a dick inside you." 

"Mm," Vyla groaned around the member in her mouth. She wanted to argue, at least, she thought she did, but her muffled sounds came out pleased rather than protesting. 

"But there is nothing wrong with that, is there?" Malicious asked as she pinched her lover's nipples and thrust deep inside. "Ahh, isn't it nice to be fucked like this? To lay back and drown in ecstasy. To give in to the flesh. Your kind preach this all the time. And you're such a, mm, such a good speci— oh fuck that's— ah!" 

Vyla shuddered as her insides were splashed and flooded with Malicious' magically-induced seed. Like Zeerae, the Ralta spurted an impressive quantity and it quickly began to run down Vyla's thighs. 

Just as the barrage started to wane, Zeerae clenched up too and Vyla tasted the shocking sweetness of the cum that followed. She gulped down what she could but managed only a few mouthfuls before she had to breath. 

Despite what must have been a powerful orgasm, Malicious managed to keep her thrusting constant and two climaxes quickly rolled into a third. Vyla pulled her mouth off of Zeerae's cock and cried out with the eruption that seared her body. She slid from Malicious and fell to the slickened floor where her hands quickly found her pussy and began stroking frantically to ride out the wave. 

As Vyla gasped and moaned, her eyes wandered towards movement off to one side. There she saw Malicious rolling her construct onto its back. The Ralta shuffled between Zeerae's legs, on her knees, and bent over to lap at the false Siren's pussy that remained beneath the still-rigid cock. 

Vyla could only watch and stroke herself as Malicious went from eating out her creation to spearing it with her cock. The two continued to fuck like this while their playmate recovered and fingered the tired, but satisfied, confines between her legs. 

The minutes passed and Malicious came inside Zeerae who rolled her head back in a silent scream of passion. Then the two cuddled together upon the floor, passing lazy kisses between one another. Malicious turned her head in Vyla's direction and the afterglow party shifted to her position with Ralta and false Siren lying on either side. 

Vyla looked at Malicious in wonder. A Shasling yet so skilled in an art that Sirens had always considered theirs alone. 

Such a strange world you are, land. 

Then she finally allowed the darkening haze of exhaustion to creep in. Her finals thoughts wandered to what Ronav would think. Dread marred the much-needed sleep. 

=== 

Zeerae didn't make a move when the door to their cell screamed open, encouraging Ronav and Nimtith to maintain a similar shroud of apathy. The Shasteless remained imprisoned in her cage, after all. Even if they had jumped Malicious the second she returned, they still needed a way to free their comrade. 

"I see you've taken the liberty of freeing— what happened to the girl?" Malicious asked. She pointed to the far wall where Yis sat. 

Yis looked up, aware that she had become the subject of their hosts interest. Doing so parted the hair across her forehead and revealed a nasty-looking lump accompanied by plenty of dried scratches. The palms of her hands were similarly damaged. 

Since waking up, Yis had tried the door again, strongly voiced her panic, only to be silenced by Zeerae, and flown about the room a bit. It took a while but she had ultimately tired of being afraid and had sat herself upon the floor. Strangely, the spot she chose was closer to the Siren's cage than Ronav and Nimtith's side of the room. 

The enemy of my enemy is my friend, Ronav had concluded. Faced with a bigger threat, Yis had wanted someone to talk to; she only had the one choice. Of course, the enemy of her enemy also happened to be an enemy; that hadn't seemed to bother her. Talk they did, albeit, in short bouts that mostly consisted of Yis accusing Zeerae of being involved in their capture. Once that died down, the Siren stopped translating. 

Ronav, meanwhile, had busied himself with getting all his muscles to stop moaning their soreness. A process still underway when Malicious walked in moments ago. 

"She doesn't cope well with enclosed spaces," Zeerae explained. "Those wounds were brought by her battering the door." 

"And what did she hope to gain from that?" 

The Siren shrugged. "Freedom, I suppose, futile as it was. She isn't the brightest lure in the depths." 

Malicious turned her head back to Yis who shrank under the Ralta's eyeless stare. "She seems to have punished herself well enough so that lesson should be learned. But if you've any further plans to escape, your friend here will convince you otherwise." 

Vyla shuffled through the doorway. No cocoon of sound swirled around her body. She walked freely yet she made no effort to cut Malicious down or escape the prison. 

"Back to your cell," Malicious commanded. Her tone came polite but firm. 

Vyla nodded. She stepped across the stone floor and entered her cage, even going so far as to close the bars behind her. 

"What did you do to her?" Ronav asked. He didn't know whether or not to word his question with anger or with simple curiosity. Vyla had suddenly become complacent and calm, a good change were this anyone else. 

"Only what she wanted," Malicious replied. Her head then turned in the direction of Yis. "Now, I believe the next subject will be our fluttery little friend." 

"I wouldn't advise that. She won't be useful," Zeerae chirped up. 

"I'll be the judge there." Malicious uttered something and her coiling cocoon of sound flowed forth. 

Back against the wall, Yis started trembling as the shimmering snake of voice slid towards her. She floated upwards, in an effort to escape, and slid along the stone. 

"Believe me," said Zeerae. "She may appear an adult but she has the mind of a child and you'll set her off again. Not to mention her only words are Siren." 

"Siren? Now you have piqued by curiosity." 

"Eee!" Yis shrieked when the snake lunged towards her. She darted towards the door but the spell wrapped around her ankles and pulled her to the ground. The Chayli girl cried and blubbered as silken walls of sound wrapped around her. 

"Can't you see she's afraid?!" Ronav shouted when Zeerae failed to protect their friend any further. 

"Fear can be useful to me..." 

Ronav almost lunged towards the Ralta but he paused when she raised a hand in his direction. Those hands commanded strange power. 

"You will have her back safe, my words are on the fact. And a Ralta's word is a powerful thing." Without further flair, Malicious parceled up her prize and began to drag it from the room as she had done with Vyla. Yis' wails of terror dimmed, but didn't die, as her bindings closed. None, not even Ronav, did anything to stop the sorceress. The only ones who had a hope of fighting were locked away. 

"What's she going to do?" Ronav asked the world as though it might reply. 

Zeerae answered instead. "Presumably the same that was done to our friend here. Speaking of..." She turned to Vyla. "What in the void happened to you?" 

Vyla looked at her fellow Siren, then to the rest of the room. She walked through the bars of her cage, her pace reminiscent of when she had been freshly injured, and beckoned Zeerae to do the same. Only once they were standing together, slightly smaller than their normal height, did they begin a private conversation. 

Ronav strained his ears but the words that flew between the Sirens were too faint and whispered to hear. The only noises in the room were the breathy tones of Zeerae and Vyla. His hints to the development of their conversation came purely from the former's facial expressions. Uncertain frown, curious tilt, wide eyes, very wide eyes. 

"I, uh... I see," Zeerae said at last. She then faced the rest of their party. "It is imperative to our escape that I be experimented on next." 

"No arguments here," said Nimtith. 

"What did Vyla tell you that made that imperative?" Ronav asked. 

Zeerae blinked. "Hmm? Oh, nothing. That was just something else we were talking about." 

Ronav narrowed his eyes. "We were planning to kill Yis to escape a little while ago," he said, keeping that charade in play. "But now, just after talking to Vyla, you have a new idea. What did she say?" 

"You were planning to kill—" 

"Only Siren business," said Zeerae, cutting Vyla off. "It would be easy for me to find our escape should I be given a good viewing of this place. Vyla could have done it but something... distracted her." 

"No, that's it," Vyla snarled. Shrunk down as she presently was, the effect was more comical than intimidating. "She only wants to go with Malicious so she can try the sex." 

"Ha!" Zeerae laughed. "I knew I could get you to tell them yourself." 

Vyla's rage vanished as she realized she'd been tricked. Then it came back double. She hissed mightily and her body rippled. But rather than challenge Zeerae, she stalked back to her cage, sat down and faced the wall. Then Vyla's features took on an unnatural sheen, in the dim light, as her entire body solidified. 

Ronav stared at the Tomateless. Hurt again, they needed to put a stop to Zeerae's constant stream of abuse. He didn't know whether or not he should follow up on their present course of conversation. Fortunately, Nimtith made that decision instead. 

"So did anyone else hear her say 'try the sex'?" the Chayli man asked. 

Zeerae flashed a toothy grin from her cage. "Indeed, dearest. It would seem that our captors intentions in experimentation are sexual in nature. Rather, as Vyla explained it to me, she is a sound sorceress researching magic and alchemy with a focus on sex-related products. She wants to test them on us." 

Ronav rubbed his temples. Of course, he thought to himself. Countless leagues of land between here and the sea and we have to get captured by the lunatic sorceress. "Wait, that means Yis is about to get..." 

"I suspect so. Oh, don't frown like that, dear. Who knows, maybe a good session will do some wonders for the girl. Loosen her up a little." 

Ronav paid no attention to the Siren. All he could think of was Yis, adult in body but not in mind, being subjected to Ka knows what level of experiments. Whatever effect it would have on the poor girl, he knew it wouldn't be good. 

"Maybe I'm a bit behind," Nimtith's voice broke in. "Why do you want to be her next subject. Is it part of the escape plan or not?" 

"Of course it's not, weren't you listening? I want to try the sex." 

"No!" Ronav shouted, almost surprising himself with the abruptness. The sudden attention of everyone in the room made him stumble over his next words but he got there eventually. "This is all getting ridiculous. We need to focus on escaping and saving Yis. Who knows what that woman will do once she's finished with us." 

"She said she'd let us go," Vyla mumbled. 

"Sure she said that. But maybe she was lying. You know, lying? That thing you two do all the time. And besides, that's only after she's broken the bodies of each of us. Maybe we can stand up to it but I know for sure that Yis can't!" Ronav's chest rose and fell as he stared across the room at the two Sirens. One still had her back turned and he realized that he had crossed a line. "Vyla... I'm sorry I—" 

"Oh don't be sorry, dear," Zeerae chimed in. "She still hasn't corrected her biggest lie to you." 

"No!" hissed Vyla, snapping out of her apathy. Her body melted out of its statue-like state. 

"What lie?" Ronav asked. 

"I'll kill you if you tell!" 

"You're so kind to him, parbos," said Zeerae. She stood her ground inside the cage and her eyes flashed from Vyla to Ronav. "She should have confessed this to you after she did so to me. I've been far too patient in waiting for it to come to light." 

"Don't!" A dozen clangs echoed around the room as Vyla fired a barrage of spines towards Zeerae. Each missile either clattered against the bars or found itself slapped away effortlessly 

"Ronav there are no southsea Sirens. Your friend is leading you on a goose chase because—" 

"Yaa!" Vyla burst through the bars of her fellow Siren's cage and they tangled together. Grunts and hisses were the only indication as to how the blur of motion was progressing. 

Vyla couldn't win this, Ronav knew. A sizeable portion of her body sat behind in her cage. "Stop!" he shouted. They needed to save their strength for escaping but his command went ignored. 

The Sirens fought and whirled around one another within the confined arena. Screeches sounded as blades and claws glanced against the bars. Ronav ran forwards, plumbing his mind for a way to get them to stop. Then he saw it, though it would only aggravate already strained relations. 

Without pausing to dwell on the matter any further. Ronav grabbed hold of the flesh rope that linked Vyla's body to her heart and brain inside her prison. He lifted the strange ribbon, gripped and pulled. It didn't take much to tear through. 

The fighting stopped half a second later. Zeerae shrugged off the lifeless body of Vyla and stepped aside. 

"Gah!" Vyla gasped as a new mouth opened on the lump of flesh in her cage. "Wh— traitor!" she cried blindly. Her eyes would have had to remain with her lost body. 

"Stop fighting!" he shouted back. In his right hand, Vyla's flesh rope tugged but he held firm. 

"I'd sooner die! She treads on me without mercy yet you stand by to watch. If she's won you then I have nothing left." 

"You will die if we don't reconnect you," said Zeerae. "You can't survive with a body that small." 

Small indeed, at the present. Vyla was little more than an ugly lump with a mouth. A weak one at that, if the pulling in his hand was any indication. But Ronav looked into that twisted, barely-present face and saw past the appearance. Beneath it lay pain and monumental frustration. The gritted gums, for she hadn't formed teeth, of a creature who had fought her whole life only to lose just as many times. 

Everything clicked then. It was as if his week suddenly played in reverse and Ronav could see every part that he had missed. There were the obvious things such as Vyla's background or the conversation that he and Zeerae had had at the Shasteless home in Shadetree Fold. Then he saw the subtle clues. The seemingly-innocent words that passed between him and Vyla. Her constant barrage of slights in those first two days that would have seemed playful had he properly understood them. 

"I think he's finally figured it out..." said Zeerae. 

Ronav's eyes refocused on Vyla. His heart was beating now. "Don't fight her," he said. "But not because she doesn't deserve it." 

Vyla nodded as best she could. With her signal he brought her broken body together again. Seconds later he watched the Siren shifting back through Zeerae's cage. 

Ronav wanted to talk to her. He almost did when she came in range but she slipped past just as quickly and retreated to her prison. 

Ronav opened his mouth to say something regardless and was stopped immediately when a hand fell on his shoulder. Zeerae had appeared next to him and she shook her head. Why do you get to do this? Ronav silently asked the other Siren. Push us to a limit then reel us in like a fish on a line. 

Because you need it, Ronav read in her eyes. 

=== 

Yis' eyes crawled the walls of the passage down which she found herself being dragged. Stone everywhere, and so close. Dark, cold, choking stone that pushed her down and blotted out the sun and sky and kept the wind from blowing through her hair. Stone that scratched when rubbed or bruised when struck. Nothing but lifeless, heat-sapping stone. That meant a cave which could mean wolves or bears but she feared neither at the present. All that worried Yis was the figure ahead. The dark woman, hooded like Trym, but far from kind. 

It felt as though some kind of web bound her body. Spiders? Was this woman a spider? But the web looked strange and it made a soft humming noise. Not a spider, not a web. Something worse. 

Yis shuddered and yelped as another door screeched open. She twisted over to see where they were going. More hard things. Some were shiny like water and she could almost see her face trapped in them. That made her desire escape even more. Her and mirror Yis. 

She needed the sun and the sky. Her head hurt furiously and only the outside world would stop the throbbing pain and choking breath. fresh air, treetops seen from above, flowing wind. Yis redoubled her struggles against the not-web cocoon. 

"You're as stubborn as the other," said the dark woman. The strange words and voice promised nothing but fear and misery. 

Yis trembled as she clawed against her confines. The airblades on her back slashed away to no avail. She wanted to get off the ground, at least. Even through the cocoon she could feel the dirt beneath her. Strange, dirt had never bothered her in the past. The forest was full of it, after all. Yet this kind felt unnatural and barren. The kind of dirt that wouldn't sprout a flower even with plenty of sun and rain. She wanted to get as far away from it as possible. She couldn't so she screamed. 

"Stop that," Malicious growled. 

Yis couldn't understand the funny language so she cried over the top. She thrashed in her prison. Skin and bone slapped against the floor but she didn't feel any pain at the present. Her voice helped to drown it all out. 

Yis' screams came in waves. A deep breath and a rattle of death. Repeat, repeat, repeat. 

"Ora ah!" the lady shouted. 

The sensation that filled Yis' throat only served to make her more afraid. But her voice drained away and her fears could no longer be resounded around the room. That didn't put an end to her panic. She put the screaming energy into flailing. More so when she caught a glimpse of the wooden planks on one wall that held lots of shiny things. Colorful things. Instinct and a life in the forest told her what such bright objects had to mean. Poisonous. 

Yis flailed out for a shiny stick that jutted straight out of the ground. There were three others in reach and she quickly wrapped herself around two of them, braced as firm as she could. No poison, Yis resolved and she clamped her jaws shut. You could never trust anything too bright. Anything in the forest that wanted to be noticed could only be hiding something sneaky. She'd had her share of bright berries to learn that lesson well. Too many nights filled with spasmodic dreams and a churning stomach to accompany the torment. 

"I'm on the edge of losing my patience with you," came the woman's terrible voice. 

Yis squeezed her eyes shut. Tears and mucus were flowing free to dirty her face but she didn't care. She found herself falling back through the years to her old house. So distant now. Her memories turned to scraped elbows and knees and the soothing that each received from a hug or a kiss. If not for the faint, droning buzz, she might have been able to imagine this cocoon as a similar embrace. But she couldn't. 

Hands gripped under Yis' shoulders and she tried to yelp. The woman was pulling her away from safety. Doom and pain and more suffocating fear awaited in that direction. The corners of the sticks dug into Yis' arms and legs but she didn't let go. 




Arms of the Ocean Ch. 12



"Keep this up and, yah, I promise no release for you," the lady grunted. She surged with renewed strength for several seconds then released. 

All Yis could hear above the droning was the woman's ragged breaths. After a while of nothing, curiosity won out and Yis twisted around to face her nightmare. 

The black lady leaned against the far wall, hunched over and huffing. Her hood tilted out of place and a tiny bit of blue showed at the top of her cheek. 

"Answer me this and I'll set you free, would you object to me killing you now?" said the woman. It sounded like a question. 

Yis looked away. She didn't like animals that she couldn't see the eyes on. People were no different. How did this one know where she was? 

"You and your friends are fast becoming more trouble than you're worth." 

=== 

"We need to make our move," Glade commanded. She leaned over the table, around which they sat, and almost tipped Blondie's glass. 

Trym didn't answer. His voice was focused on the bowl of stew before him. The coarse chunks of beef, carrot and cabbage in a gravy too thin. Soldier food. And, true to its nature, the soldiers at the mess-hall tables around him were devouring the meal with relish. Animals. 

"They'll be fog in a cloud if we wait any longer," the Taigin woman insisted. 

"Probably are already," Blondie added. 

Still Trym said nothing. He had bigger things to think about. Certainly his companions were correct, but they could simmer a little longer. For now, this hunt. If he had to put it in terms of scent, he would have described it off-putting. 

The girl is what really threw him. Where did Yis fit into things? Why would she be accompanying Sirens that she hated, supposedly, and why hadn't her periodic absences bothered them. The only explanation was one that Captain Havello had already stumbled upon and one that Trym had thought of earlier still. 

Yis was playing them. She had to be. An incredible performance but a performance nonetheless. That revelation would have been more than sufficient to call this hunt off if there weren't quite so many Sirens on the line. At least four, he guessed. 

"Hey! You awake?" 

Trym felt a nudge from Blondie before the Neynas went back to addressing Glade. 

"I hate this about Ralta. You can never tell if they're daydreaming or nodded off completely." 

"I'm awake," Trym growled as he pushed his companion's hand away. "And the two of you are right so this is what we're going to do about it. Once I've finished forcing down my breakfast, we'll start organizing our little hunting party. Then we head south with nothing more to follow than sand grains in a gale. We start where the north sea meets the south and work our way along the coast until we hit Kalatish. It can be someone else's problem if they're further down than that." 

"That's a long way and a lot of ground." Glade clasped her hands under her chin. 

"Well, with any luck they'll give us a trail of bodies to follow. Otherwise we hope our friend makes a return." Even as he said this, Trym couldn't help but wonder whether Yis planned to bring them to the Sirens or the other way around. 

=== 

Malicious made a wave of her hand as she approached the room with her prisoners. The locking ward in the door disengaged and she pushed it open. 

She already knew the coast was clear. The Taigin sat against the far wall, fiddling with those rusted chains. Probably pondering whether or not they could be used for some sort of escape. They couldn't. Meanwhile, the Chayli seemed to be busying himself with a kind of unarmed combat practice. He stood in the corner nearest the board that had once shackled him. His hands jabbed at the air as he twisted and shuffled short distances on his feet. The Sirens, of course, hadn't budged. The trials of imprisonment were present in everyone's faces as they looked up at Malicious. Or perhaps it was something more... 

"Tell me the story of that girl," Malicious commanded. "Leave nothing out." 

The aqua-haired Siren, in the cage furthest, flowed to her bars and grinned as she stared out. "Yis? Where to begin? These two found her living in the woods far to the north. We don't know how she came to be there but one of her parents being a Siren must have had something to do with it." 

"What else?" 

"Nothing, she isn't very talkative." 

Malicious would have liked eyes at that moment so that she could perform some sort of distasteful expression. A glower, perhaps. All her empty brow-creasing earned was another grin. 

"Why? Is she proving troublesome?" the Siren asked. 

"I have her under control for now." 

"But she isn't the assistant you desired, ah?" 

Malicious folded her arms and turned her voice to the Taigin. "You, does the girl speak common? I need to communicate with her." 

For a moment, the Taigin didn't seem to realize that the spotlight now fell upon him. He jolted suddenly and his left hand departed from fiddling with the chains. "Huh? Common? She— I mean, no. She's never understood anything I say, just Siren words." 

Malicious nodded. Having dealt with so many Sirens in the past, she'd grown quite confidant in her ability to perceive lies. Not so much from the water creatures, for they were especially sharp. But no land-dweller could hope to slip one by. This Taigin's clumsiness looked far too real to be an act. 

"That will be all." Malicious turned on her heel and strode from the room. She only spared Vyla a passing glance but something looked off about the Siren. Whatever it was, it could wait. 

This home had taken more than a year to craft, even with the magically-aided movement of earth and rock. But the time had been well spent and Malicious had all she needed. Rooms for her subjects, rooms for her experiments, rooms for business and for pleasure. Sometimes the purposes blurred. 

Presently, Malicious made her way to the room that Yis waited in. An observatory above the exit. Occuwards around, or outside, her home were light threaded to glass panels embedded in the stone so that she could watch her prisoners or the pond. The walls in here weren't so bare as all the others. This room looked more a home than the cell of a dungeon. 

The girl sat curled in one corner. She had her arms wrapped around her legs and her face buried beneath. The glass panels had scared her coming in. That the fear hadn't faded only reinforced Malicious' suspicion that this was the right thing to do. 

"Child," Malicious whispered as entered. 

Yis glanced up, her eyes still reddened with tears and her face flushed with misery. She flinched immediately and pressed further back into her corner as her features re-contorted. 

"Let's get you outside." Malicious held out her right hand, palm up, and curled her lips into a friendly smile. 

No hand rose to greet Malicious' own. Yis twisted her head away and hid behind a curtain of dirty hair. With an exasperated sigh, Malicious shuffled across the room to her stone desk, carved from the rock, where several panels were built in. Her voice crept across the glassy surface. Seeing the images contained within was never easy when you didn't rely on light. She had to focus for several seconds before the secrets, that her occuwards observed, surfaced. 

Four prisoners in their cell. Nobody in the halls or experiment rooms. Nobody lurking in her bedroom. All business as usual and nothing of note around the pond outside. Unlike earlier. How surprised she had been the day before to find Sirens and land dwellers mingling like friends. But what an opportunity... 

"Come here, girl." Malicious turned around and beckoned towards the wild Chayli. 

Yis watched with those curious eyes and it looked as if she would go back to cowering. But curiosity, it seemed, proved the more powerful voice. She hovered up from the floor, rising so high on her breeze that the air blades on her back almost scraped the ceiling. Then Yis floated delicately across the room. 

Once the girl hovered overhead, Malicious pointed to the panel that showed the pond outside, then to Yis. Panel and Yis, panel and Yis. "Shall we go outside?" she asked. 

Yis cocked her head and frowned. Perhaps fear still clouded her thoughts. 

"Yis." Malicious pointed at the girl, then the panel, then began waving her arms as though she were a bird. "Fly." 

The wild Chayli's eyes widened and much of the fear faded from them. She nodded frantically. "Teb, teb, ros uuse." 

Malicious didn't need to know Siren to understand the girl's approval. This time her hand was taken when offered. With a gentle pull, she led Yis from the observatory. 

Downstairs the warding spell was brushed aside and Malicious threw the lever that opened her home, causing a section of wall, inside the cave, to fold inwards. All the while Yis jumped at this and that, hovering behind on the absolute limit of held hands. Together they skirted through the lichen and grime-coated crevice that led outside. 

The leaves from the wall of fig trees were gently whispering in the breeze that managed to reach them through the dense canopy that surrounded. Hardly anyone stumbled upon the place. You had to fly almost directly above to see it from the air and the woods surrounding were so thick and tangled that it would be simpler to burn everything down rather than navigate it. 

The second they were beneath the speckled rays of the sun, Yis pulled herself free of Malicious' hand and hovered out over the pond. She glanced back once, looking at the cave rather than her captor, before flying away. 

=== 

"I have set your 'friend' free, though she didn't seem inclined to wait for the rest of you." 

Ronav snapped out of his wakeful dreaming at the polite, yet ominous, voice of Malicious. He'd been on the verge of dozing off, despite the stone floor. Was it night outside already? Or perhaps the magical sleep had messed around with his internal hour. 

"She's not really much of a friend of ours, I will admit," said Zeerae. The Siren presently lay on her back outside the bars of her cage. Boredom had been hanging over the room like a fog, of late. 

"I don't even know her," Nimtith chimed in. 

"Only because you scarcely know any of us, my dear. Not to worry, once our most gracious host sees fit to set us free, we'll have plenty of time to get better acquainted," purred Zeerae. 

Ronav stifled a smile at the Chayli man's visible discomfort. For Nimtith there had been almost as deep a plunge into the sea of uncertainty. 

Such thoughts reminded Ronav of the similar discomfort that Vyla had been in upon her return. Even now the Siren sat in her cage, her back to the room. He wanted little more than to walk over there and demand she explain everything. If there really were no Southsea Sirens, why were they on this journey? Ronav partly knew the answer but he didn't want to admit it. It seemed too strange, too contrasting with every preconception of Sirens that he had ever had. But in this confined room they had none of the privacy that he desired. 

Later, Ronav thought to himself as he looked at the raven-haired woman. As soon as we're alone, you explain everything. No more hiding or running away. This time he meant it. 

"She's a strange creature," Malicious said to herself and present company. "I would have liked the chance to study her." 

"I think you'll find her story more depressing than it is interesting," Zeerae murmured to her cage. 

"You failed to tell me something?" 

"Nothing certain, but I have been wondering why a girl who appears to loathe Sirens as much as she does would also choose to isolate herself from her own people." 

A silence took over as everyone mused on Zeerae's words and the implications behind them. Ronav was the first to speak. 

"You think the two points are connected?" 

"Oh undoubtedly. More so that I had thought at first." 

"So what's the answer?" Nimtith asked. "Why's she the way she is, I mean." 

"As I said, I've nothing certain. I won't say until I do." 

"She will return?" Malicious asked in her polite, yet stern, tone. 

Zeerae shrugged. "It's not the first time she's abandoned us." 

=== 

Temperatures like these never made flying easy. The biting wind ripped through Yis' fur clothes as though they were non-existent. She had tried to put up with it as best she could but the morning sun had yet to warm the air sufficiently and she had been forced to fly slower. 

Not long now. Yis had made sure to memorize the landscape during their journey. The big lake that they had been near loomed on the horizon. All she had to do was fly a little bit further. 

The problem of finding Trym also hung over her but Yis forced that thought aside for now. A problem for the future. Besides, he had said that he would light a fire. It wouldn't be so easy to see during the day, but she would find it. The smoke would give it away. It had to. 

Not long now. 

=== 

"...and, for obvious reasons, this expedition shall be led, in part, by our Siren hunting guest." Captain Havello indicated to Trym who nodded to the soldiers present but didn't move. "Now I know you've heard it three or four times already but I'll say it again, anyone who moves out of sight of their entire squad will be treated as an enemy until their identity can be— Farn, what are you doing?! Stand at attention!" 

A Chayli, who had been crouching down at the back of his squad, shot to his feet and saluted. 

"That is exactly what we're trying to avoid! Nobody should be slinking off or purposely avoiding line-of-sight with their allies! What in the void were you thinking, soldier?!" 

"Sire! Adjusting my left bootstrap, sire!" Farn shouted and saluted again. 

"Well you've left our sight now, haven't you! You know the drill, start hovering!" 

Farn blinked but soon began floating several feet above the ground. Five seconds had been the agreed-upon duration and Captain Havello counted them out loud. 

"Alright soldier, that's enough. Back to attention, so long as your bootstraps aren't carving into your ankles too deep!" 

Farn nodded and remained rigidly still as Captain Havello went back to running through the expeditions critical details. 

Trym couldn't help but smirk to his comrades at the exchange. Really it hadn't been necessary. The half second that Farn had been on the ground wouldn't be enough to change shape and vanish. Where would he have even vanished to? Besides, Trym had had his voice on the soldier and the few other Ralta present would have noticed too. 

Hearing the Captain's spiel for the third time in a row was a thought that Trym didn't rush to meet. He skirted off to one side, his comrades in tow, and found one of the braziers with which to warm his hands. Several had been lit around the garrison's courtyard to fend off the disgusting morning. Why did Sirens have live in the north sea. Couldn't they swim south where the sun warmed the land as often as clouds marred the sky around here? 

"The captain could stand to demand more discipline of his soldiers," Glade muttered as she and Blondie took a place around the flames. 

Trym nodded but spoke otherwise. "These parts are quiet compared to the east and west. Ka's sun guard keep the biggest trade roads safe for merchants. It isn't Havello's fault that his town happens to fall in the right place." 

"In common please," Blondie suggested. 

"These soldiers are eager for action, that's all. Don't judge them until they've proven their worth in the fight." 

"Eagerness isn't always a plus." 

"True." 

Silence crept over the trio. If an absent conversation in the backdrop of the captain's barking could be called 'silence.' A breeze chose that moment to pick up and the fire struggled against it. A breeze despite the courtyard's walls. 

Yis landed near the brazier and only Trym managed not to jump. 

Hello my little fishing line, Trym thought as he turned to her with welcome arms. Do I hold your handle or your hook?



Arms of the Ocean Ch. 13



Over an hour now and there had been no movement from the crevice that descended into the rock-face. It left Trym feeling anxious. His voice swept the dense-packed fig trees that surrounded this picturesque copse but every passing turned up nothing. No secret passages had opened up since the last check nor were there any Sirens stalking through the brush. Such should have calmed him down but, if anything, he only felt more on edge. 

"I want to go in there," said Glade. She'd said it several times already. "I know it's stupid, but I want to go in. The tension's going to kill me long before they do." 

Trym gave her a reassuring slap on the back and his hand stung upon her armor. Full battle garb today. No inch left uncovered by steel, save the eyes. But even they could be shielded by a glass visor that had cost a small fortune to craft for the task. Blondie, like Trym, wore his everyday clothes. Both had magic to protect them from the myriad darts and knives in a Siren's arsenal. 

Another minute ticked by, marked only with the occasional rustle of a soldier shifting his weight. Chaylian marksmen, stationed in the treetops, made up nearly half the party. The rest were either Neynas or the occasional Ralta, all clustered in the shelter of fig roots. Glade happened to be the only warrior who wouldn't be fighting from afar. Against Sirens, range happened to pose a significant advantage. 

Such was why, apart from Glade, nobody had any desire to go venturing inside the crevice that Yis had guided them to. It would be a slaughterhouse in there. Close quarters, tight corners and a hundred opportunities for Havello's soldiers to lose their wits and light up an ally. Even a single Siren could pose a tremendous threat in such an arena. 

So the hunting party waited outside. And waited. And waited. And after an hour of waiting they waited still without a single whiff of Siren to reward them. At this stage, Trym had to accept that their quarry had no desire to emerge of its own accord. Which meant... 

We're going to have to smoke them out. He didn't like it. Lighting a fire and funneling the smoke into the crevice put them at greater risk of a flanking maneuver. Probably the very thing that the Sirens were waiting for. A diversion to come bursting out of unseen warrens. With night closing in, did they have a choice? 

"Get a blaze going," Trym whispered to Blondie on his right who relayed the order towards the Captain. "Chimney the smoke inside and send two pairs of scouts in search of other airways. Make sure they don't land lest they return not feeling themselves." 

Several limbs were hacked from the surrounding fig trees as the orders went through. But when the time came to relocate nearer the cave's entrance, a voice filled the stand. 

"Outsiders dare to desecrate the silent pool?!" it boomed from the onsetting dark. 

The Neynas present fled back to cover while, one by one, the Ralta cried out as their voices found the figure. Tyrm saw him too, still cloaked to ordinary vision by the gloom of the crevice. The stranger squeezed between the stone walls. A Taigin, undoubtedly, but the mightiest that Trym had ever seen. Even without the thick, black armor that menaced with spines, their challenger had to be nearly eight feet tall at least. 

"Speak, intruders!" The Taigin rumbled like a distant storm as he emerged into the moonlight. In one hand he held a tower shield as though it were nothing more than a bit of board. The other grasped a bladed whip of yet-more charcoal steel. 

"What in Ka's name is that thing?!" Havello gasped. He shoved past his soldiers and took a knee next to Trym. 

"We're supposed to be up against Sirens," the Captain hissed, his eyes wide. "You never suggested they may have some monster of a Taigin to back them up." 

"Had I known, I would have told you." Like so many times in the past, Trym yearned for eyes so that he could roll them. But the Captain's panic wouldn't bode well for the morale of his troops so something needed to be done. 

The Taigin stood roughly two-dozen paces away. Plenty of distance and no visible method of fighting from there. Thus did Trym feel comfortable in standing up and exposing himself as the one in charge. After all, his voice spotted no Sirens in the vicinity and this giant before him couldn't be one in disguise. Far too large. And, if things did turn sour, he always had his shielding spells to draw upon. 

"We seek the Sirens lurking here. Send them out and you yourself shall be spared, good knight," Trym commanded. 

"None may enter my master's home! None may intrude on my master's grounds!" 

Trym pursed his lips and his voice sought seams in the figure's armor. He couldn't find any. This, and the way it spoke, suggested that it might be some form of magical construct. If that were so, negotiations would be impossible. "Have them bring down the prisoner," Trym whispered. 

Captain Havello made a signal over the heads of his increasingly-nervous soldiers. A pair of Chayli in the treetops nodded and passed the message along. Moments later came a breeze from above as several more of the winged people swooped down with a large, burlap sack hefted between them. They dropped the sack by the pond, tore it open and pulled the coarse fabric away. 

Yis flailed her way onto the grass. Her eyes were wide and near-blind with fear. Behind her back, her arms and legs were tied and a steel sheath had been secured over each of her four wing-blades. 

"Consider a trade," Trym spoke. "We shall release your ally in exchange for an audience with—" 

"This intrusion has persisted long enough!" boomed the knight. His voice rose in volume and pitch with every word. "Farewell your goddess and slide clawing into the screaming void!" 

The last few words that the knight spoke reached shrieking levels. All around, Havello's soldiers cried out and dropped their weapons so that they could cover their ears. Meanwhile, the knight hefted his shield and hurled it forwards where it splashed into the pond. But rather than sink, it began to swirl around, faster and faster, until the pool roared in a spiraling vortex. 

=== 

Earlier... 

Maybe the bone-crushing boredom was to blame, or perhaps because he hadn't seen the outdoors in nearly a day, but the lack of privacy in their dungeon had begun to bother Ronav less of late. This made the decision stand up, cross the room and slump down next to Vyla's cage that much easier. 

The Siren neither said nor did anything as she was joined and, at least initially, Ronav kept things that way. But the tense awareness of Vyla sitting rigid as a statue ultimately broke his resolve. 

"Hey," he whispered at last. "Are you okay?" 

The chitinous sheen of Vyla's skin faded as her body lost its solidity. She looked at him, blank faced. "Fine." 

"You seemed a bit... after whatever happened with Malicious." 

"You don't need to swim about the reef, Sye. We had sex." Vyla's tone made it plain that she found this conversation just as uncomfortable as he did. 

"But you're okay with that, right? I mean she didn't... you know..." 

"Rape me? Of course not. You really think a Shasling could force herself upon me in such a way?" 

"I..." Ronav exhaled and his eyes wandered to their companions. Nimtith sat against the far wall, staring at the floor. Zeerae had tactfully relocated herself further away soon after Ronav sat down. 

"Would you have cared if she did?" Vyla asked. 

"What? Of course." 

"Why?" 

"Because, although you might be a bit of a—" 

A screeching ripped through Ronav's words as the door to their prison slid open. Malicious stomped inside, her mouth twisted in anger. 

"Would any of you care to explain why there is an army on my doorstep?!" she roared, the politeness making a rare disappearance. 

Zeerae shot into a sitting position. "Oh good, they're here then. 

"Explain yourself!" Malicious shouted. 

"Gladly. You see, in a way, this is a lesson not to take in mysterious parties of travelers. You never know whether there might be someone pursuing them. Considering the peculiarity of our arrangements, Sirens traveling with land dwellers and such, perhaps you should have foreseen this. The group outside, I presume, are Siren hunters. Some of them, at least. They've come to kill myself, Vyla and any they deem us to be in league with." 

Malicious remained rigidly still as her hands clenched into fists. The redness of her face steadily faded and her voice trembled, but not with rage, when next she spoke. "They're going to try and break in." 

"Eventually. I imagine they'll try and flush us out first." 

"I— they can't... my research. All my research is in here. They'll undo so many years of experiments." 

"To be fair," Nimtith piped in. "I'm not entirely convinced as to the merits of your research." 

Not helping, Ronav thought. 

"You have to drive them off, I'll give you your freedom," said Malicious as pleading entered her softening voice. A faint echo, different from the one bouncing off the stone walls, swam in too. Almost like a mourning song-bird. 

Zeerae prowled towards the Ralta. "We could. But perhaps I might be lying. Perhaps their actual purpose is to liberate us from your clutches and fell you like wheat." 

Malicious went silent. She didn't bother fleeing as the Siren moved in on her. Instead she relaxed her shoulders and held her arms at her sides. 'So be it', said the pose. 

Zeerae's hands turned to blades and, as she reached their captor, she raised both to kiss Malicious' neck. But rather slice off her head, Zeerae leaned in and whispered something that Ronav couldn't hear. The Ralta tensed, relaxed, whispered something back. Then the swords melted and Zeerae stepped away. She faced the room. "We've an army to stop." 

=== 

The glass panel showed two-dozen soldiers occupying the copse around the pond and, most likely, there were plenty more out of sight. Vyla didn't know whether the minnows she felt jittering in her body came as a result of the numbers they faced or the arena. 

During her time in the Tomateless, she'd seen plenty of naval battles. Swimming towards the bottom of a ship to burst from the waves, land upon the deck and start slicing and slashing at every Shasling they could find. Oftentimes they faced equal or greater numbers to those which presently waited on Malicious' doorstep. But this time there weren't another nine comrades to watch her back, not that those sea-bitches had ever really bothered. Nor did they hold here the element of surprise or the same levels of intimidation they possessed in the waves. 

"Mm, troubling," Zeerae mumbled to herself, eyes fixed to the panel. There were plenty more around the walls but only this one, the biggest, showed the outside. "They've come better prepared than I had hoped. Arrows and spells all round. They'll blast us down before we take three steps." She turned to Malicious. "You wouldn't happen to have an escape rout anyplace, perchance?" Zeerae asked. 

Malicious shook her head. 

"Foolish, anything with a way in needs a different way out, be it cave, castle or creature. Otherwise this sort of thing happens." 

"Well I wasn't planning on having my home besieged," Malicious hissed. Her voice wavered and she shuddered from the stress as she spoke. 

Zeerae ignored her and went back to staring at the soft-glowing panel. "In that case, I suppose our only choice is to try talking. If that fails, we can at least take a few of them with us." 

"These are soldiers of Ka," said Nimtith. "If we weren't outlaws already, we will be should we lay a finger on them." 

Vyla rolled her eyes. Ronav's protesting she didn't care about. She'd gotten used to that. But Nimtith offered a new form of idiocy. Too much care as to what other people thought of him. 

Much like yourself, then. 

Vyla let that thought slip away into the aether without acknowledgment. 

"Why should us becoming outlaws matter?" Zeerae asked. "These soldiers are here to kill us. Surely you'll let me afford them the same hospitality." 

"They're following orders, that's all," Nimtith argued. 

For a moment Zeerae fell silent. She clucked her tongue several times before speaking again. "So you're saying the soldiers are off limits but their commanders are fair game?" 

"What? No! None of them!" 

Zeerae sighed and twisted towards Ronav. "Help me out here? We can't just kill nobody, then there's no incentive for them to surrender." 

The Taigin threw up his hands. "I'd rather stay out of this." 

"Bah, coward... If I could just make it to that pond. Their fire and arrows wouldn't be quite so troubling in there." 

"Fire?" Ronav asked. "I thought Sirens didn't mind fire." 

Vyla stifled her laughter while Zeerae let it flow freely. 

"Ha, don't mind it?! Bahaha, I suppose you love to be burned alive too, yes?" Zeerae cackled. More so when she saw the seriousness in the Sye's features. It took a while but her high ultimately faded. "Ah, so you still believe that little lie despite living by the sea? No, fire is extremely dangerous to us. We burn faster than kindling on a sun-baked beach. The myth that we don't because we're 'made of water' is one that we started to discourage Neynas' and Ralta from using any fire spells in their arsenal. But there've been signs that your kind have been catching on lately so I suppose we can dispense with the charade. For present company, at least." 

"If you were to reach the pond, what would your plan be?" Nimtith asked. 

"It's not so much a plan as a better stage from which to fight. Should the need arise, that is," Zeerae added when the Shasling men reared their distaste. "But realistically it will end up as nothing more than a nicer place to die." 

Suddenly a thought crossed Vyla's mind and she turned away, brow creasing, to consider it. 

"We're not going to die. We can't, not like this," said Nimtith. 

"Nor will you let me kill so I hardly see how we can escape this situation." 

"If it helps, I don't mind cutting each of them down. Anything to save my research." Malicious offered. 

"What kind of magic do you have?" Ronav asked. 

"I'm not learned in combat spells. What I used on you is all I have." 

"But maybe you could put them all to sleep—" 

"No," Vyla said at last as she whirled around. She had it. A plan. The best that had ever graced her mind. Perhaps it even rivaled the cunning and depth of one of Zeerae's. Let's see what you think of this, thought Vyla as she watched her fellow Siren in her peripherals. "Sleep won't work. There are far too many and they have spells of their own to counteract whatever Malicious can muster. Matching force against force will get us nowhere. We need to be fluid like the sea." 

"Am I to assume you've come up with something?" 

"I'm not one to spout empty words," said Vyla. Then she told them her plan. 

=== 

"This is beyond strange," Ronav mumbled. Speech proved difficult with a body wrapped across his face. 

"But it's clever, I will admit," said Zeerae from an unseen mouth upon her mass, presently in the shape of an enormous, black, tower shield. 

Ronav turned on his side and lifted Zeerae a bit higher so that he could squeeze past a particularly narrow section of the passageway that exited Malicious' home. "Vyla," he said. "You're not matching me very well. It's making this fairly hard." 

"Well Sye, perhaps if you moved in a more predictable manner I might keep up," she replied, her voice practically inside his ears. 

"Can't you just relax?" Ronav ducked under a support beam. In doing so, he almost lashed himself in the face with the whip-like weapon that belonged to Zeerae. A naylix, she called it. He felt glad not to have to face the other end of its menacing coils. "I mean, if you relaxed your body I could do all the moving for us." 

"And then your armor would melt away, wouldn't it." 

"I... true." 

"And you'd have nothing on but all those quilts and blankets." 

"I hope you realize how hot it all is," Ronav complained. He'd liked the idea of having Vyla become a kind of exoskeletal armor for him, but the layers upon layers of padding underneath, in the form of quilts and pillows, drew away the sense of being an unstoppable, hulking behemoth. 

"You need to be as big and intimidating as possible," Zeerae explained again. "This isn't so subtle as to be called sleight of hand so it really would help to have all eyes, and voices, on you." 

"I know..." Ronav said with a groan. Even his natural Taigin strength was having difficulty coping with the burden. The Sirens were much heavier than he had been expecting. Zeerae had waved that off as Sirens possessing denser bodies but he didn't know whether or not to believe her. 

The upwards slope and the subtle change of stone color told Ronav that they neared the surface. He could almost hear the racing of his heart. Siren-armor notwithstanding, he was about to face down over two-dozen armed, armored and practiced soldiers. Everything had to go perfectly or the only thing waiting for them outside would be death. 

"Remember, no plan survives its first encounter with the enemy," said Zeerae. 

Ronav bit his tongue rather than voicing his distaste over those words. In the gloom of the flickering patches of magic light, his hands searched for the lever that Malicious had described. 

Both Nimtith and Malicious presently waited a short way back. Far enough that, once Ronav emerged, they wouldn't immediately be glimpsed by the sweeping voices among their enemies. From there, Malicious could work the magic that would distort and amplify Ronav's voice. Fear tactics, but it was all the help that the two had offered. 

His fingers curled around a lever, disguised as a jutting point of rock, and pulled. Ronav pushed his 'shield' through the opening and squeezed after it. Only a few more steps and he would be in sight of the opposing force. He heard them before that, his stomach turning at the sound of footfalls near the crevice. 

"Hey, you're up," Zeerae hissed. 

"R—right," Ronav stammered and cleared his throat. Then he puffed out his chest and began delivering the lines that Vyla had demanded he rehearse several times over. 

The voice that echoed from Ronav's lips surprised even he. It boomed with an unnatural resonance that he hoped didn't sound too magically induced. 

Soldiers were diving into cover when he stepped outside and into the moon-shadowed clearing. The Chayli above had their bows poised to loose. He choked back the urge to laugh at the former and cower at the latter. 

"Find their leaders," Vyla whispered. 

One identified himself immediately. A Ralta, by the looks of things, who stood up and spoke from the opposite side of the pond. Ronav responded as he had been instructed. Don't sound emotional or even living, if it can be helped. Nothing to make them think that their prey will bend to fear or might. As he kept the back and forth going, his eyes wandered across the soldiers faces. 

Then they brought forth a coarse-threaded sack and Yis spilled to the ground, shackled and gagged. 

No. It took all of Ronav's willpower to avoid cringing. New wounds marred her skin. 

"Stay calm, she's safe where she is," urged Zeerae. 

"We need to help her." 

"We will, I think I have their leaders," said Zeerae. "But we must be sure, throw me now." 

Ronav pushed down his worry, took a deep breath, and bellowed as loud as he could to the night. "This intrusion has persisted long enough! Farewell your goddess and slide clawing into the screaming void!" 

With that, Ronav hurled Zeerae, still in the form of his shield, with all the strength he could muster. She arced through the air and tumbled towards the pond where the water parted with a crash. Then she vanished from sight. 




Arms of the Ocean Ch. 13



Some of the soldiers called to one another, then to Ka, when they saw the shield begin to spiral. The vortex began in mere moments and, in just as much time, reached roaring levels. 

Shouts for order and composure rolled across the rush of furious water. Soldiers of higher rank yelled to the ones beneath them but no leader stood out yet. The darkness, and their cover, masked what their armor revealed, if anything. Zeerae had suspected that they might try to hide the pecking order among them. Fear, hopefully, would undo that. 

"Hold your fire!" a Chayli shouted from above to an ally who loosed an arrow that landed at Ronav's feet. 

"Stay in rank!" bellowed a Neynas down below. 

"These aren't Sirens! Why aren't they Sirens?!" blubbered a youthful Chayli behind a nearby fig root. He looked fit to fly at the gaping vortex that, in his mind, led to the screaming void beyond life. Clearly the soldiers hadn't considered the Sirens to have Shasling allies. 

Land dweller, Ronav corrected himself. 

Suddenly a Neynas broke rank and launched a ribbon of flame towards the pond. It hissed harmlessly as it hit the water which immediately lashed around her leg, pulling her to the ground and down the bank. She screamed at the top of her lungs, prompting two of her allies to rush to her aid. One grabbed her by the shoulders while the other swung his sword at the coil of water that tangled around it. Ronav held his breath but relaxed again when Zeerae allowed the three soldiers to escape unharmed, though they did receive a share of berating from the comrades to which they returned. 

"Compose yourselves!" shouted another Neynas from across the pond. Presently he sat in the walls of fig roots. Right beside the Ralta, Ronav noticed, that had been addressing him earlier. 

"Act like the soldiers you are, this is nothing but illusion!" The Neynas stood, presumably to yell at the soldiers more easily. The Ralta at his side flailed for the man to sit again but, from the way he passed orders around, it seemed more likely that this Neynas might be the commander they were looking for. The only problem, like every other soldier, he bore no rank upon his armor where a member of Ka's guard normally would. And from the way so many other men and woman were voicing their own opinions in this bedlam, Ronav couldn't weave the truth from the chaos. 

Almost as though the world sought to give him the answer, the Neynas clambered out from his cover. 

"Wait you fool! Get down!" cried the Ralta who had been beside him. 

The Neynas didn't listen. "I thought I brought keen-minded soldiers on this mission, not—" 

The churning of the pond shuddered for a moment, barely preceeding Zeerae as she exploded from the depth and pounced at the commander, for that was surely his rank. Her swords were formed and ready, her carapace dark and spined. 

A screech filled the night and silenced the masses as a blade pierced armor and screamed on the way in. Ronav tensed up, watching as the commander twisted his sword in Zeerae's chest. Her arms sagged and she spasmed. The whole world seemed to take a deep breath. 

"Huh, like a trout she takes the bait. See comrades, there's little to—" 

"No!" the Ralta called. His warning came to late. 

Zeerae's arms flew to the commander's turned head and sliced through the gaps in the armor around his neck. Words, and flesh, were cleaved as easily as a hand parting water. Zeerae grasped the severed head, kicked off its owner's chest and spun back to land on the bank of the pond beside Yis. 

"For you, darling," said Zeerae as she casually tossed the head to the girl. 

Yis made a muffled shriek and shuffled back as best she could until she bumped into a root. 

Zeerae returned her focus to the soldiers. Her armor scratched and hissed together with every word she spoke. A black emissary from the pits of nightmares. "As for the rest of you. Three dozen Sirens, and the witchcraft they command, await my word. I offer you one piece of advice, run!" 

None heeded the offer. At least, not at first. The soldiers stared at Zeerae, the severed head and lifeless body of their commander, the pond and crevice from which more horrors could emerge at any second. Some looked ready to flee but didn't want to be the first to do so lest they be cut down the second their backs were turned. Finally a Chaylian marksman, who had been perched in a tree, took wing and jetted away. Thus opened the floodgates to soldiers flying for the treetops or scrambling through the undergrowth. 

"Cowards!" yelled the Ralta from across the pond, who had been positioned next to the commander and bore no uniform. "Worms who let others shoulder the burden! Go back to boasting in the safety of your castle and trembling when the time for action comes! Enjoy the final days you've left with your loved ones! Raargh!" 

With this final outburst, the Ralta shouted a spellword and an arc of sound flew from his lips to bifurcate one of the slower Chayli. The two halves of the poor soul's body spurted night-shadowed blood as they tumbled out of sight among the trees. 

Ronav gritted his teeth. Whatever uncertainties he felt, in partaking in this man demise, vanished at the sight of such unhinged violence. 

Once the flocking of the soldiers had finished, the only ones who remained with the Ralta were a Taigin woman on one side and a Neynas on the other. 

The Siren hunters, I presume, thought Ronav. These had to be the ones that Yis had met and the ones that Zeerae had scented. They didn't look the slightest bit phased by the show they had just witnessed, nor by their leader's casual slaying. 

"Clever, I must admit. I take it you knew the soldiers were rough at best?" the Ralta asked as he stepped out from behind the fig roots. 

"Oh no, the plan wasn't mine." Zeerae's armor melted away and she pointed to Ronav. "She came up with it." 

"Me?" Ronav exclaimed. 

"Of course not you," said Vyla as she slipped off his body. 

The Ralta clapped his hands from across the pond. "Amazing, truly. So much ingenuity. Padding and coating another with your own body to intimidate a larger force. Tell me sir, are you a true Taigin as you appear?" 

"Uh... y—yes," Ronav stuttered. So strange to be addressed in such a way by a man who, moments earlier, had slain one of his own allies. A madman in the most accurate sense of the term. 

"I'm sure there's quite a story as to how you came to be partnered with these Sirens. I do hope you'll be forthcoming when we get round to it." 

"I'll... try?" 

"I'm sorry," Zeerae interrupted. "Before we continue, can we at least be civilized and make some introductions?" 

"You mean, before we start ripping each other to shreds, you tell me your name and I tell you mine?" the Ralta asked. 

"Something like that. I'm Zeerae. And here we have Ronav and Vyla." 

"Trym. This imposing lady beside me is Glade and, true to his name, my blonde-headed friend is Blondie." 

"It's not Blondie," the Neynas blasted as he tensed his arms in frustration and his hands became fists. 

"Not the time," Glade muttered. 

"No, I don't care. It's always Blondie, Blondie, Blondie. My name is Blown-day. Like a day with plenty of wind." 

"Well pardon me 'Blown-day' for not thinking your name is particularly suitable, seeing how you're not a Chayli," said Trym, his tone dripping in sarcasm and mockery. 

"But my ma was a Chayli." 

"True, and you have rich, flowing locks of blonde hair so I'd say that either name is suitable." 

"Well... well at least my color's natural, not like your blue!" Blown-day grabbed his leader's hood and ripped it down, exposing a short crop of sky-blue hair that grew from the top of the man's head in a tuft. 

The Ralta's face was exposed too, a rare sight among their people and Ronav took the chance to gaze all he desired. The tops of Trym's cheeks, where his eyes would have been had he any, turned gnarled and twisted like scar-tissue as they became part of his eye-marks. Like virtually every Ralta, they were the same pattern as the ones on his hood. Two blue teardrops, slanting towards one another and growing lighter near the edges. Trym quickly grabbed his hood and pulled it back on. 

"First of all, don't ever remove a Ralta's hood. And second, my hair is natural." 

"What?! Naturally blue?!" Blown-day exclaimed. "Nobody has naturally blue hair!" 

"Um, I do." Zeerae raised a hand as she cut in. 

Blown-day waved her off without a glance. "Sirens don't count, you could all have rainbow hair if you wanted." 

"Hey, that's not a bad idea." The aqua flowed from Zeerae's hair to be replaced with the red to purple of a rainbow and every color between. 

"Argh!" Glade exclaimed at last. "Can we please stay focused here!" 

"Seconded," said Ronav and Vyla in unison. Not for the first time did he find himself preferring that the conversation dissolve into simple, predictable violence. 

"Besides," Glade added as she ran her eyes over Zeerae's new coiffure. "That looks terrible. Your hair's too short to pull it off, all the colors are running together." 

"Do you think so?" Without awaiting a reply, Zeerae's rainbow mane flowed further down her back until it reached only a little above her waist. "Is that better?" 

"Nope, Glades right," said Trym. 

"About the hair?" 

"...No... About us not being focused. Now we've all made one another's acquaintance so perhaps we can move on to the killing?" 

Ronag gulped. Their odds were far better now but that didn't change the fact that he was unarmed. Vyla had reclaimed the naylix when she had stopped being a suit of armor. Not that Ronav thought he could have wielded the unusual weapon to any effect. 

"I agree, let's start now." Zeerae flicked her wrists towards Tyrm and Blown-day, who had only the clothes on their backs as protection. Two darts flew at their targets, dead center on their foreheads. But inches from striking, the darts bounced away with a soft 'ping' and a rippling of the air. 

"You'll find I'm not like other Ralta," said Trym. He hadn't even flinched at the attack. 

"Nor am I like other Sirens. And it never hurts to try," Zeerae replied. 

"Well then, now that we've gotten that out of the way, how shall we go about this?" 

"I was hoping you and I might find someplace a little more intimate." 

Trym smiled. "You stole the words from my mouth. Blondie, Glade, I leave these others in your care." 

Blown-day muttered something as he and Glade stepped forwards. The latter lowered the glass visor on her helmet before drawing the weapon from her back. It had been obscured before, both by her body and the gloom. Only in full view did Ronav had a chance to finally look at it. 

At one stage it may have been called a hammer; it had since undergone an amalgamation of modifications. The hammer remained visible underneath the mess but myriad spikes, blades and backwards-facing barbs occupied the head and some of the haft beneath it. Ronav didn't need a deep understand of a Siren's body to know that this device had been crafted for dealing them the utmost damage. Even Zeerae's armor would fold beneath it like a flower to an avalanche. 

"Come now madam," said Trym. "Let's away to a more peaceful stretch of these woods." 

"Lead on, dearest," said Zeerae cheerily. She skipped forwards and took Trym's arm in hers. Together they wandered towards the trees and soon wove out of sight amid the roots and undergrowth. 

Ronav could only watch them go, marvelling at the strangeness of the two. They'd get on perfectly, no doubt, were the setting different. Two creatures afflicted with sadistic and twisted minds. How else could they appear so friendly before a fight to the death? Neither able to bring themself to kill the other without a proper battle first. 

"And then there were four," said Glade. A rising breeze graced the long, brown hair, flecked with green, that flowed down from her helmet. 

"The Siren's mine," Blown-day and Glade said together. They looked at one another. 

"No, you take the Taigin, he's one of your own," Blown-day argued. 

"What challenge is that?! Look at him, no weapons or armor. As big a task as crushing an ant." 

"So that means I'm up to the task, does it?" 

"Hey, I'm right here," said Ronav. 

"Yeah and you're pretty hard to miss, too," spat Glade as she turned her acid to him. "What are you supposed to be? The quilted cavalier?" 

Ronav looked down at the padding and blankets still wrapped around him. He began undoing the bits of string that held everything in place. "I just haven't taken it off yet." 

"Right, well when he's done undressing, kill him," Glade ordered. 

Blown-day sagged his shoulders and let out a sigh of exasperation. "Fine, but next time we're in a spot like this I get the Siren." He glanced at Vyla who had her arms folded with the naylix draping over one. 

As he stripped off the bedclothes, Ronav had to wonder what good the weapon would do to Vyla's opponant. Fearsome as it was, it didn't look as though it would fare so well against Glade's armor, almost as heavy as Ronav's had pretended to be. And with the glass visor in place, the Taigin woman stood behind an apparently seamless barrier. 

Focus, Ronav told himself. He had enough to worry about in Blown-day. Another Neynas like the one he had faced in the arena of Shadetree Fold. Only now something told him that victory would take more than a single punch. 

Not for the first time since this plan had grown did Ronav wish that Malicious and Nimtith hadn't opted out of fighting. Did attacking a fellow land-dweller really matter when that land-dweller aimed to kill you? But the two hadn't wanted to take sides and they could hardly be forced to fight. 

With some clever acting they'll think we were your prisoners, their plan went. It had a chance, Ronav had to admit. He almost regretted not playing the same hand. 

"Whenever you're ready," Blown-day said with a cold smile. 

=== 

When at last they escaped the dense-packed stand of fig trees, Zeerae and Trym tore away from each other, the latter dodging back, until they had a large gap between them. They eyed one-another, all pleasantries cast aside. 

"I had grown to suspect that another hand may have been guiding the girl," said Trym. 

"How funny, I thought the same thing." Careful not to show any signs, Zeerae adjusted the makeup of her legs so that she could spring away in an instant. This Ralta had every mark of experience and, for all her ability, filled Zeerae with concern. She suspected that several Sirens must already lay in his wake. Tomateless, most likely, or she would have heard something. Even so, any land dweller who could achieve a body count above zero was not to be taken lightly. She only hoped that Vyla and Ronav could hold out until she returned. 

"Bava!" Trym shouted as his right arm shot out. 

Zeerae tensed to dodge but nothing emerged from the Ralta's outstretched arm. Immediately she whirled around in time to see a man-sized boulder flying towards her. With no time to think of anything better, Zeerae snapped herself in half, bottom falling out of the way while her top rolled over the massive stone. 

Ralta, she snarled as she reconnected with herself and grew her black, exoskeletal armor. I hate Ralta. 

Of all the land-dwelling races, the masters of sound magic were, by far, the least predictable. The only reason for this being that every Ralta had their own, special word for any given spell so you could never tell what might happen until you saw it. 

Zeerae ribboned away from a rippling spear that screamed into the trees. Her eyes found her target and a dozen darts exploded from her arms. They connected with nothing but the invisible shield of solid sound that surrounded her opponent. But there had to be an opening somewhere. A large one or his spells would lose much of their edge from muffling. No opening at all and his voice would never escape. He had it at the back, of course. 

Another spellword and the ground around Zeerae began to roll over in an effort to entrap her. She sliced and tore through the earth, cutting away a large section in the process that she held out ahead in anticipation of Trym's next attack. A torrent of flame struck her makeshift shield as she advanced on the Ralta. It quickly proved too much and again Zeerae found herself darting to safety. 

Only a few quick paces brought Zeerae to a denser run of trees and she ducked behind one. 

"Are we taking a break?" Trym asked. His feet fell upon twigs and damp leaves as he advanced. 

"I'm afraid I've been locked up the past day. There hasn't been a chance for me to properly stretch," Zeerea replied. 

"Locked up? Do tell." 

"We've our own Ralta, you see. Another sorceress who's been experimenting on us with powerful magic. And you're trespassing on her home. She isn't happy about that." While Zeerae spoke, she shuffled through the contents of her body in search of aid. The darts, some knives, various venoms and poisons. Too bad she had left the naylix with Vyla. But that Siren needed all the help she could get, provided she didn't rip herself in half with it somehow. At any rate, Zeerae couldn't come up with anything useful inside her. "I'd worry about your friends back there. Their fight may not be as one-sided as you think." 

Even if Zeerae had been able to see the Ralta, she probably couldn't have gotten an accurate read on his emotions. The eyeless people were subtle enough already. This one had extra practice by trade. 

"In that case, I suppose I haven't the time for playing around," said Trym. 

Zeerae sprang up and flipped over backwards to grab the tree behind her as a spinning disk of sound tore through its trunk. The old, weather-worn elm began to fall sideways. She rode it for a second before diving off the bark and soaring over her opponent's head. Her blades were ready as she landed behind Trym's back. Then his fingers flicked and Zeerae felt an invisible force throw her back along the ground. She grated across the dirt, her armor screeching and several spines breaking off before she could pull them to safety. 

Trym's spell pushed Zeerae until she smashed against another tree. As he moved in he brought his hands down and invoked another word before she could recover. An arc of energy flew out and carved straight down the middle of Zeerae's body. A millisecond slower and her vitals would have been clipped by it. As things were, they felt frighteningly warm by their proximity to the attack. 

Zeerae tried to reconnect with her other half but the blade of sound and magic remained, too wide to slide around. 

Trym closed in, his hands poised for the next attack. The deathblow if something wasn't done. The energy blade shuddered and pressed against the sides of Zeerae's body where it cleaved. 

"Ordinarily I'm against lengthy monologues in the face of victory," said Trym. His fingers curled. "And today will be no exception. Leyach!" 

=== 

Ronav dove for cover as a beam of pure heat missed him by mere inches. His neck stung where the searing temperature licked. He tried to scramble for the trees but something grabbed him by the legs and pulled him back. An invisible force of some kind. Levitation magic, he realized, but far more powerful than the variety that Aylote had wielded in Shadetree Fold. 

"This is pathetic..." Blow-day moaned. He drew his hands back, then lifted them and Ronav floated into the air where he hung upside down by hs feet. The Neynas shook his head before looking over at Glade. "Can we please swap." 

"No, just kill him." 

Ronav took the chance to check on how Vyla was faring. She and Glade were dodging around one another, naylix whirling and hammer wooshing through the air. Every now and then a metallic crash filled the night, followed by a scream of steel as Vyla's weapon struck Glade's armor. It never did more than scratch the surface. 




Arms of the Ocean Ch. 13



Blown-day sighed. "Ugh, fine. This is easily the worst hunt we've ever been on." 

"Little help?" Ronav called as the Neynas's palms once again glowed with a fiery fury. 

Vyla didn't waste time in answering. She leapt out over the pond and slid across its surface. Blown-day spun around in time to shoot down the knives she threw in his direction. The distraction proved enough for Ronav to muscle himself free of the magic that bound his legs and he fell to the ground. 

The naylix cracked through the air towards Blown-day but he threw himself to one side and tumbled to safety. 

"To me," Vyla hissed. 

Ronav sprang to his feet and ran towards the Siren in the hope that she would keep the two hunters off of him. Instead she dove at him too, spreading out in the air, and began to wrap around his body as she had done back inside Malicious' home, albeit less gradually than then. 

"Calm yourself!" Vyla commanded. Again her words came unsettlingly close to his ears. 

"A little warning would have been nice!" Ronav shot back. He felt Vyla's body solidify in places as she formed herself into the suit of armor that he had worn earlier. But this time, without the added padding, she didn't have to spread so thinly. 

"What's the plan?" Ronav asked. The two Siren hunters were presently recollecting themselves and eyeing this new development with caution. 

"Keep you safe and hope that Zeerae makes it back in one piece," Vyla replied so that none but they would hear. "Either that or Malicious and Nimtith grow a spine. Or even Yis." 

"How is she?" 

"Hiding amid the roots and struggling with those sheaths on her back, last I saw." 

"Do you suppose this counts as two against one?" Glade asked over their private conversation. She stood on one of their flanks, resting on the haft of her hammer, Blown-day on the other. 

The Neynas shook his head. "Mine didn't count as one before, I don't see how this changes anything." 

Somewhere it felt as though Vyla smiled. "Care to prove them wrong?" she asked. 

"Are things okay between us?" Ronav whispered. He didn't know where the decision to bring this up now had come from. Maybe just to get the question out of the way before their imminent demise. 

"Is anything ever okay?" Vyla replied after a moment. 

"It could be." 

Another smile, or so Ronav presumed. He did the same. 

"I'll look for you in the screaming void," she said. "If only to wipe that stupid grin off your face." 

"Don't keep me waiting." 

"Here's an idea," Blown-day said to Glade, though he spoke loud enough for all to hear. "You get them in the pond and I'll boil them. Wouldn't that be ironic? Boiling a Siren." 

"That's not irony you idiot!" Vyla shouted. 

"Yes it is!" 

"No, irony would be me saying how wonderful it is to be surrounded by all these foolish Shasling's who think they know what irony is." 

"That sounds closer to sarcasm, actually," Ronav mumbled through his second skin. 

"Quiet," Vyla hissed and her body tightened around his mouth so that he couldn't open it fully. 

"He's right," argued Glade. "What you said is sarcasm. But that doesn't mean Blondie's right about irony." 

"I am though." The Neynas folded his arms and pouted like a child. 

"And I'm sure, to you at least, being right matters more than anything at the present. But I think we should get back to fighting." Glade hefted her hammer and swung it overhead so that it rested across her shoulders. 

"You handle the moving, I'll manage weapons," Vyla whispered in his ears. "Just get me close. And if you don't avoid the fire I'm leaving you behind." 

"Noted." Ronav smiled. The battle didn't seem quit so daunting now that he faced it together with Vyla. 

Glade was the first to make a move. She lunged forwards as her massive hammer swung down upon them. Aided by Vyla's reflexes and armor, Ronav caught the weapon on its haft. 

"Axe," he whispered as he lifted his free arm. 

Vyla's skin shifted, smoothed and sharpened into a long blade upon Ronav's wrist and hand. He braced the haft then hacked through it in a single blow. Wood with a skin of steel but it broke easily beneath his might and Vyla's razor-sharp aid. 

"Bastards!" Glade snarled. 

Whatever celebration the two might have had was canceled immediately by Glade's fist striking them in the side of the head. Those metal gloves gave the woman a punch to move mountains. 

Ronav reeled under the blow and he felt his scalp open up as crunched fragments of Vyla's hardened body slashed against his skin. A high-pitched ringing started on that side but he didn't have time to enjoy it as a wave of flame came in from the right. 

"Down!" Vyla ordered. 

A week ago, Ronav never would have guessed that one day he would be wearing a suit of armor, much less one that almost moved for him. Yet Vyla did exactly that in an effort to escape the heat as she bent his legs out from under him. Together they fell to the ground and Ronav half-braced against the fall before tumbling out of the line of fire. He sprang to his feet again and surged farther than he had expected. More aid from Vyla, most likely. 

"Focus on the Sye, I'll keep the girl busy." As if to illustrate her intent, Vyla lashed Ronav's right hand through the air, the one that held the naylix. 

Glade didn't even blink as the weapon hissed towards her and screamed upon her armor. 

Meanwhile, Blown-day pressed his palms together and a tiny burst of light flashed between them. When he drew away, two blades of golden energy shone from his hands. He held each as though it were a sword. 

A dart burst from Ronav's shoulder and preceded him as he charged towards Blown-day. The Neynas whipped one sword to intercept it in a spark of energy. 

"Change of plan, he can't maintain his shield and those swords at once," Vyla advised. 

Dozens more darts shot forth from Vyla, all pointed at the Neynas. His eyes widened and he jumped back as the blade in his left hand quickly widened into a shield. The darts hissed and popped as they struck the barrier of light and Vyla heaved in frustration. 

"You're not fighting fair," said Blown-day as he raised his shield for Ronav's arrival. 

The armor around Ronav's arms shifted into claws this time. He punched at Blown-day but the Neynas blocked it and Vyla snarled. 

"His weapons burn," she said as a cross-cut narrowly missed their chest. 

Glade soon joined them and Ronav struggled to fend off the attacks of two opponents, much less get his own in. Even with the aid of Vyla's agility, reflexes and awareness, the whirlwind of weaponry had him catching glancing blows every now and then. He could only imagine how it affected Vyla. Every mark made upon her closed up almost immediately. But Ronav knew that she couldn't sustain such damage indefinitely. Blown-day's attacks were the worst. Even the smaller cuts left nasty scorches in Vyla's body. Glade's hammer, with its shortened reach, had too much trouble getting close enough to do anything significant. 

"Will you just kill them already!" the Taigin woman raged. 

"I just wanted a halfway decent fight is all," said Blown-day. He ducked back and his sword faded while his shield remained. 

Ronav watched as Blown-day leveled his free hand at the two of them. Nothing good could come from the Neynas' palms, he knew that. Ronav wanted to move, hide, flee, anything. He sensed Vyla wanted the same, but Glade had them on guard and they couldn't turn their back on her. 

A low humming began to fill the air. It built in pitch and volume over the seconds that Blown-day charged the spell. Had Ronav not been so distracted he may have been able to better pinpoint the sound. It seemed odd that the ominous hum of such a spell should be so likened to a bow being drawn across the strings of a viola. A bright glow also built from Blown-day's hand. Once the magic reached its peak, he unleashed it. 

It wouldn't have made a difference had Ronav and Vyla been properly poised to evade. The spell travelled near instantaneously towards its target. A bright beam of light that rippled the air around it. 

"Gah," Vyla cried as the magic struck her in the side of the chest and melted through immediately. Ronav didn't feel anything. No heat, no pain. A bad sign. 

Vyla clung to Ronav as he stumbled back for a chance to recover. He didn't dare check the severity of the burn. The second skin had stopped the spell from going all the way through him but he knew he would need a healer. If they survived, that is. 

"Hold together," Vyla whispered, her voice strained. It sounded as though she spoke as much to herself as she did to him. "It will take him a while to do that again. We know what we face now. We can win." 

Ronav gritted his teeth and nodded as their enemies advanced. 

"Still not finished?" asked a new voice as someone came crashing through the undergrowth. 

The four of them froze and turned their attention to the newcomer. The voice filled Ronav with dread. 

No, he moaned in misery as Trym emerged from the trees. 

Glade and Blown-day raised their weapons and spread out so that everyone remained in their sight. 

"Not another step," Glade warned the Ralta. "You know the rules, 'Trym'." 

"Could it be her?" Vyla whispered. 

"I don't know..." Ronav replied, yet he dared to hope. 

'Trym' nodded. "Right, of course. I forgot for a moment since I had wholly expected you to have dispatched these wretches by now. Will this set your mind at ease? Ayas!" 

The spell-word coiled forth, guided by Trym's hands, and tangled around Ronav and Vyla. They struggled in every direction but the magic held firm, tightening around their muscles until neither could move an inch. 

"Satisfied?" Trym asked as he forced his prizes to the ground. 

"Hardly. That fight was terrible..." Blown-day sagged his shoulders and his weapon and shield faded away. 

Suddenly Glade jolted, looked at the Neynas and her hands flew up. "Wait, ayas isn't—!" 

Too late. A jagged dart disappeared into the side of Blown-day's forehead and he slumped to the ground. No muffled grunt of pain. A quiet death. 

Glade's hands trembled. "Ayas isn't his spell-word... for that..." she mumbled. 

"He did strike me as the slowest of the three," said Zeerae as she rippled out of her disguise. "Judging by who's left, I guess that makes you number one." 

Glade clenched her fists before turning on Zeerae. "You sea-bitch! Why won't you die?!" she howled as she charged the Siren. 

Zeerae stood her ground, a pillar of calmness. Only once there were no more than several steps between her and the Taigin woman did she coil like a spring before diving between Glades arms. In one swift move Zeerae had the glass visor up. Then she was inside and the Taigin collapsed. 

For a while there was silence. Not even the clicks or chirps of insects could be heard. All had likely fled from the battle. Ronav slowly became aware that his knees were hurting. He wondered why until he realized he had slumped to them. Vyla peeled away and sat by his side. 

"Why are you so close?" Ronav asked. 

"You're bleeding a lot." The Siren pointed down. Some of her remained on Ronav's side where the blazing ray of light had struck him. Only once he looked did he start to feel the scalding pain. 

"Glad to see you're... concerned for my... wellbeing." Zeerae, who had been sitting by the body of Glade, fell to one side and made no effort to stop her head from slapping against the ground. "I'll just... rest here for a while." 

Ronav moved to help her but Vyla laid a hand on his shoulder. "You're injured too. Let the others get her." 

Malicious emerged from around the trees and gently padded towards the fallen Siren. 

"Besides," Vyla added. "She'll be fine. Purely exhaustion and silp damage, I imagine. Anything more severe and she'd be dead already." 

"Though I did... throw myself at death... thrice in one night," Zeerae breathed, her eyes closed. A weak smile crept across her lips. 

"I'm not much of a healer," said Malicious as she stood over the Shasteless. 

"Just need... a rest," Zeerae sighed. 

Something moved and metal rattled behind them. Ronav tried to turn around but found he couldn't without his wound screaming. Vyla looked instead. 

"Yis, vae dro aayv av." Vyla beckoned. Come sit with us. 

The rattling paused for a moment, then resumed and drew towards the pond. Eventually Yis came into view on Ronav's right and Vyla leaned over, quickly freeing the Chayli from her bonds and wing-sheathes. 

"What's silp?" Ronav asked. His eyes rested on the motionless forms of Glade and Blown-day, his mind still processing the night. 

"It's what Siren's are made of," answered Vyla. "Shaslings are made from bone, muscle, skin and blood. Sirens are made from silp." 

"That's strange." 

"It's a strange world." 

Ronav looked at Vyla but her eyes were glazed over. He suddenly wanted to kiss her. Those thin lips, a faint pink, on her pale face, wreathed in curtains of black. But he didn't. 

"So... you were the Siren who saved me in the water," he stated instead. 

"Would it matter if I wasn't?" 

The others didn't seem to be listening. Even Nimtith, who had just now arrived from over the trees. Yis still sat with them but she wouldn't understand the private words she overheard. So Ronav didn't hesitate when he answered. "No." 

Vyla turned to him. "Then is this what love is?" she asked so abruptly that the question almost flitted away before it could be answered. 

"What?" Ronav choked. 

"Shaslings, land dwellers, speak of love in poems and stories, do they not? The emotion isn't common among Sirenkind." 

Once again, Ronav found himself winding back through the past days, all the way to the docks where Vyla had been fished from the water. Yet even then, he couldn't find a proper answer. "I don't know, this week's been too strange." 

"Mm," Vyla hummed in agreement. Then she went back to staring at the fig trees. 

Before a silence could creep in again, Ronav changed the subject. "I don't think I understand what happened back there. How did Zeerae use magic?" 

"I did," Malicious answered. "You ruffians aren't the only ones who can play cards close to your chest." 

Zeerae gave a weak laugh. "No, seems our hostess lied... when she said she didn't have another... way out." 

Ronav frowned. "But you were planning to pretend to be prisoners." 

"Until that thing cut down one of his allies without a thought," said Malicious through gritted teeth. "Then I could see that I would find no friends among them." 

"Still a bit slow... if you ask me," mumbled Zeerae. She grunted as Malicious placed a foot upon her stomach. 

"I didn't ask you." The foot remained in place for several seconds before Malicious removed it again. She stepped back. "I'm sorry, all this trouble's put me on edge." 

"Why did it take you so long to come help us? Surely the two of you were more than a match for Trym," said Vyla with no effort to hide the sneer in her voice as she spoke to the women. 

"Oh if only you... had been there," Zeerae sighed. "Almost tragic that I had to put down... such a skilled Shasling. But dear Malicious arrived too late... to partake of the games." The Shasteless propped herself up on one elbow and, without awaiting encouragement, began laying out the details of her engagement with Trym. 

=== 

"Leyach!" 

The word rang through the trees and Zeerae immediately felt its effects. The blade of energy that parted her body began to heat up as it surged with new power. She didn't know what would happen next; she didn't plan to find out. 

The most skilled practitioners of combat say that time seems to crawl during a battle, particularly when things become especially heated. Until now, Zeerae hadn't believed it. Only when she made her move did the world close to all but the two of them. Time made a respectful stop as the stars and moon ceased so that they too could watch for the outcome. 

The energy blade, that lay blocking Zeerae from so much of her silp, exploded. She had to flee from it, she knew, but not before one final order. The tiniest tendril of her body jabbed through the ground and reached for her other half. It carried a single command. Attack. 

Rather than withstand or fight the violent energy as it rippled outwards, Zeerae hardened the receiving sides of her silp and rode it like wind in a sail. Her body, parted in two already, parted again. A third, a forth, a fifth. Seven, nine, two dozen tentacles curled towards Trym. His hands and lips moved to shift the barrier or shoot down the attack. Sparks of flame emerged in the air and scorched the tangle of tiny arms that Zeerae had become. Much of her body succumbed to the assault that seemed to stretch a thousand years. But Trym couldn't fight every inch of her. 

Zeerae struck the shield hard, the explosion far behind, and joined again with the half she had lost. The surviving tentacles probed and wrapped for an opening. There! At the back, near his knees. 

Every ribbon of silp slid towards the gap. So close now. She only needed to land a good hit, not even to the head. Something that would disrupt Trym's concentration and spells. 

An inch from the opening and the shield fell away. Zeerae felt a flash of confusion at first, then she choked as something wrapped around her heart. She almost smiled. He'd taken a gamble and dropped the shield. A risk to make her flinch and finish the attack. Well, that worked too. 

Perhaps if Trym had ever tried something like this on another Siren, and it had to be a member of the Shasteless, he would have known better. The second Zeerae felt the touch, reflexes, that she had trained from the start, kicked in. Rather than stuttering for any noticeable length of time, her body changed direction, sharpened and shot clean through Trym's wrist. The winding spear curled to come back and this time, without the shield, nothing stopped it from flying through the man's neck. 

Trym collapsed, his head falling nearby and the hood slid off. Zeerae splatted to the ground where she pulled herself back together to assess the damage. Not a good diagnosis. But she had no time to rest. A few more minutes. She only needed to hold together for a few more minutes. 

=== 

"Then I caught these two... creeping up on me and we came up with... the little play we did here," Zeerae finished. She slouched back down and closed her eyes. 

"The way you tell that makes it sound as though you really do need a healer," said Ronav. 

Zeerae gave her head a weak shake. "Healers do nothing for me. Sleep, on the other hand. And some easy food." 

"You aren't the only one in need." Vyla looked at Ronav. "This burn of yours needs proper tending. We should get moving." 

Nimtith chose that moment to break his silence. "Moving?! No, we can't." Everyone, Yis included, looked in his direction. The Chayli stumbled under the attention. "There might be others out there, ah? And what about these three here? And the two in the trees. They need a burial. And all this moving around, this insanity. Can't we just rest for a minute?" 

"What makes you think I will even let you go anywhere?" Malicious stepped forwards and she faced each intruder on her land. "This trouble you've brought and I still haven't gotten through the tests I need." 

"Forget your queen-forsaken tests," Vyla hissed. 

"That isn't what you seemed to think before..." 

Had both woman possessed eyes, rather than only one, Ronav imagined that they would have been staring daggers at each other such that the very air would fold beneath them. Neither one backed down so he saw no choice but to step in. He rose to his feet and Vyla followed. 




Arms of the Ocean Ch. 13



"No, it's fine," he said. 

"I'm holding your side together." 

"Right..." Ronav sighed. Then he looked at Malicious and chose his next words carefully. "We're all forgetting the real problem. Two-dozen soldiers just witnessed their commander get beheaded. Now they're fleeing back home to tell stories. In a few days, who knows how many mercenaries, adventurers, soldiers, Ka-knows-what, will be bearing down on this place. None of us can stay here." 

Malicious' fingers flexed at her sides. She stayed silent for exactly four seconds. Then she unleashed a furious cry and stormed towards the crevice of her home. 

A few leaves fluttered down from Yis diving into the canopy in search of refuge. 

"She didn't take that well," Nimtith muttered. 

"She'll come round. She's smart enough to know... we need to move." Zeerae rolled over and smiled at him. Her eyes took to wandering the canopy and eventually found Yis. "That reminds me... I think I know what happened to our panicky friend. Trym told me something interesting... while we were walking together. Seems he had more luck with questioning Yis... than we did. Seems both Yis' parents spoke Siren to her, nothing else... when she was still among them. And they both spoke common words to other people... but Yis never learned these." 

Ronav waited for the rest of the explanation. "What's that mean?" he asked when none came. 

"You haven't figured it out? It means they were both Sirens." 

"Well I guessed that much. What's so significant about them both being Sirens?" 

"How can two Sirens have a Chayli?" Nimtith asked. 

Zeerae jabbed a finger at him. Injured as she was, it looked more lazy than anything else. "Exactly. Trym could have been mistaken... but he wasn't. I know the answer. I remember the Shasteless operation that this... is from." Zeerae rolled around and sat up so that she faced Ronav and Vyla before continuing. "It happened more than seventeen years ago... before my time. I only skimmed the report... it didn't succeed and we'll never repeat it... so it doesn't matter. But it does happen to be... one of the worst things the Shasteless... have ever done. We made a plan, a test, to better understand... how land dwellers think." 

Zeerae paused to catch her breath. Ronav wanted to tell her not to overexert herself. She needed to rest, not spend energy talking. But the desire to hear the story spoke stronger. 

After a few seconds, the Siren found strength to resume. "The first step... find a child, a girl, no more than... a month or two old. Then, kill her parents... and take their place. Then raise the girl as any... land dweller would have. Teach her to fear Sirens... but also teach her our language. Keep her in the dark. Then, when the girl came of age... reveal the truth. See what effects it had... on her mind. See how deeply the resent... of our kind can run, even faced with such a reality." 

Vyla spoke first once the Shasteless had finished. All emotion had fled her face. "Why?" she asked. 

"I don't know all the reasons. I recall the test was... abandoned even before we learned it had... failed. All the loose ends had been tied up... by the time I came along. All but one... it seems. Perhaps nobody thought it mattered... anymore. But the reason, for a brief moment in time... we had considered the strategy of invading... by gradually replacing land dwellers... until such a time that we... outnumber them. Ultimately... that plan was discarded. It would have taken... far too long. And we've since realized that... an invasion is foolish and undesirable." 

"You say 'we' as though you still have a degree of ownership here," said Vyla. 

"Not now. But had I been the rank then... that I am now..." Zeerae trailed off for a second but snapped back to attention when she realized the others still hung on her words. "Of course... we know where Vyla stands with her peers... but not where I do... with mine. Fie Faydess Zeerae, if you please." 

Vyla flinched before going perfectly still. "Then you're..." 

Zeerae smiled. "Don't you feel silly now." 

"But the Fie Faydessi keep their names close." 

"You think I haven't?" 

"I don't understand," said Ronav as he looked between the two Sirens. From Nimtith's look, he didn't either. 

Vyla explained. "She's the Fie Faydess of the north lands, the reef leader. Only four Sirens stand above her." 

"Five, actually... if you include the queen," Zeerae corrected. 

"But then— then why help us?" 

"One reason you know already... I didn't want you running amok... in my territory. I guess I didn't change much there. As for the others, well... as far as we've come... we're not yet at the stage... to share that." Zeerae laid back again and her chest rose and fell with ragged breaths. "Can someone check on madam?" 

"I'm here," came Malicious' polite-yet-firm tone as she emerged from the crevice. She carried a large pack over one shoulder and her clothing looked far more sensible now. A simple, cloth blouse and skirt that reached below her knees. Her hood, as before, remained black and blank of any marks. "Let's be off." 

"I see you're traveling light." asked Zeerae as she struggled to her feet. Nimtith swooped down to assist but she waved him back. 

"These are the notes to my research. All of them. I'm not about to abandon my life's work because of the mess you thugs have made. And since you're correct about my new lack of privacy here, we'll be working from the road for a while." 

"We?" Ronav spluttered. 

"Indeed. As suitable recourse for this damage, you shall serve as my research subject." Malicious pointed Zeerae out. "You're the mastermind of your 'motley crew', correct?" 

"She just confessed as much," muttered Ronav. 

"Then since it's settled, let's be off. Where are your mounts?" 

Nimtith rubbed the back of his neck, avoiding eye-contact with everyone. "About that... the soldiers seem to have liberated our Vouiareli." 

"So we walk," said Malicious without missing a beat. She stomped towards the tree line and the foliage almost seemed to part before her. In reality, she probably just knew the best path through her 'garden'. 

Everyone else exchanged a few glances between one another. Yis squeaked out a question that Vyla answered. 

Then they were off, forming as straight a line as possible to push through the forest. Ronav trudged along behind. At his side stepped silently the Siren that had plucked him from the water so many months ago. It still felt like a dream. 

=== 

Epilogue 

Her lips were as soft as when he had first tasted them. Yet, somehow, they were even more welcoming than before. Perhaps because all fear had since vanished. 

"Are you sure you're ready for this?" Vyla asked, her mouth still pressed to his. "Not that I am wholly confident in that healer's competence, but he did say to wait a week before exerting yourself." 

Ronav pulled away and looked up into her eyes. Black but also warm and kind. He didn't know how that could be, nor did he care. "I'll be fine. Besides, we can take things slowly." 

"I may not be able to help myself there." Vyla wrapped her hands around his head and drew herself back in. 

The world still lacked a lot of sense. The week had been filled with death, confusion, shattered boundaries and preconceptions. The ratio of questions to answers remained tipped in the favor of the former. But here, lying beneath the raven-haired Siren, none of that really mattered anymore. 

"Which is... the real you?" Ronav asked. He struggled to get the words out between kisses. 

Vyla paused to tilt her head. 

"Were you disguised when we met in the sea or are you disguised now?" 

"I thought you didn't care." 

Ronav thought for a moment, then shook his head. "I suppose not." 

"Good." She stroked one hand through his hair, tangling it in her fingers. "Ready?" 

Ronav nodded. He'd been ready for months and, though his side still hissed when he moved, he didn't want to wait a second longer. 

Suddenly the door crashed open. In an instant, Vyla flowed to one side, positioning herself between Ronav and the intruders. She pulled up the covers to keep herself decent. There were land-dwellers about, after all. This time it was only Zeerae.  

"Oh! I'm not interrupting, am I?" She asked as she stomped in regardless, a slight sway to her gait. Behind her, Nimtith and Malicious remained in the hallway. 

"You are," Vyla hissed. 

"Well that's just, ulp... just too bad," Zeerae threw herself onto the foot of the bed, landing on her back. 

"Your room is next door." Vyla bunched the blankets into her fists. 

"Is it? This inn is so big! But anyway, there's something we all have to talk, hic, about and it can't wait. The three of us were... what are you doing out there, come talk." 

With obvious reluctance, Nimtith and Malicious stepped inside the room. It looked like their necks were about to snap as they avoided sneaking a peek. 

"You've been drinking," Vyla accused her fellow Siren. 

Zeerae grinned. "But I've been sealing it away. Well, most of it. I figure it's about time to relax a little. You seem to agree... Anyway, we were talking about what to do next and Nimtith suggested we should all be adventurers or mercenaries or something, the details aren't important..." 

"I was joking," said Nimith 

Ronav felt a flash of pity for the man who now seemed doomed to accompany them, despite his greater wishes. Nimtith's explanation, 'all that awaits me at home, for losing two Vouiareli, is a prison cell'. And even if the sky snakes did somehow find their way home, the questions and answers that followed would only land him in hotter water. 

Zeerae waved away the negativity. "Come, it's a good idea. Once Yis is done hiding on the roof we can pitch it to her too. At any rate we'll need new names for ourselves. I'll be Riptide..." She started pointing to each of them. "Nimtith you'll be Blackwing, Malicious can be Madam... Madam Malice—" 

"Malicious," said the Ralta. "Just Malicious." 

Zeerae rolled her eyes. "Fine Just Malicious. Yis will be Wild child, but spelled with Y's to make it more wild, and Ronav... you're The Stone Soldier." 

"What about me?" Vyla asked a second later. 

"You? You're Ronav's armor. Like we did before, remember?" 

Vyla sprang off the bed, her covering forgotten, and began dragging Zeerae out. "That's it, everybody leave! Away with you and pester us no more!" She slammed the door and held it shut as though expecting someone to come crashing in again. 

Ronav smiled. "I don't know, it sounds like a good idea to me..." 

Vyla whipped around to glare at him. 

"Hey, it beats being a fisherman," said Ronav as he sank into the bed under the Siren's venomous eyes. 

Vyla relaxed and wandered back where she laid down next to him. "The mood is gone now..." she muttered. 

Ronav rolled over to lay an arm across her. "Not for long, I hope." 

"You've reminded me of something." Vyla shifted to look him in the eyes. "It's been bothering me since the first day. If you're a Taigin—" 

"I am." 

She pressed a finger to his lips. "Hush. Taigins don't eat meat, so why were you making your way by fishing? It doesn't make sense." 

"Why not? Fish don't count as meat... Wait! I'm joking, don't hit me!" Ronav quickly added. 

Vyla lowered her fist and went back to staring at the ceiling. "It's strange being on land," she said after a while. "All my life I've been treated little better than bait for hooks. As a Siren who makes the pleasure sisters grimace should I ever show them who I really am. But that changed so suddenly on land that I couldn't believe it at first." 

Ronav wanted to say something but no words came to mind. Instead he leaned over, despite the bandages and pain digging into his side, and kissed her on the cheek. 

She stared at him, her eyes turning softer than he had ever seen them in the past. "You're trying to bring the mood back," she said. 

Ronav nodded. 

A smile parted Vyla's lips and she rolled atop him. "It's working." 

=== 

Afterword 

Well it took a while but I finally got it all out. Thankyou to everyone who's been following me along. I'd love to hear what you thought of my first foray into the world of erotic writing so if you'd like to leave a comment, good or bad, please do so. I may not reply to them but I read them all and it's always nice to hear from people. 

So ends this story but I will likely bring the characters back at some point in the future. For now I'll be taking a bit of a break from writing to do other things. When I resume it will most likely be with a new non-erotic story since I've a backlog of ideas on that front. 

If you liked Arms of the Ocean and want to read more from the same universe (albeit non-erotic and a bit jumbled around to keep the two separated), feel free to take a look at whatever else I currently have posted on here.