"Um, uh, look, look, DeMacabre," said Freetrick, "I understand if you're upset about what happened this morning…"
"Upset?" warbled DeMacabre, "why ever would I be upset?"
"Well—"
"Oh, my lord is clever indeed." The look in the Duke's eyes made Freetrick's toes clench. "To pretend that you had not yet consummated your relationship with my daughter. You pulled out the plotters and beheaded them, like snakes boiled in their own mud hole! Ahh…Delicious!" DeMacabre took a moment to smile into the distance, "delicious."
Freetrick nodded, unsure whether that praise was directed at his cunning or Sangboise home-cooking.
"But now," said DeMacabre, laying a hand like a shaved tarantula on Freetrick's shoulder, "the time has come to reverse our propaganda, do you not agree, my lord? It is only a suggestion," the fingers squeezed, "but I am sure my lord will agree that the time has come to set the record straight, as it were, with regard to the state of congress between himself and his First Concubine."
"Uh—"
"Do not worry! Do not trouble yourself with the details, my lord, for I have seen to them all! The whole castle knows that my daughter lies, waiting, on her back, quivering in anticipation for her cruel master to exercise his" he leered, "royal imperative upon her."
"Oh…ugh," Freetrick swallowed the bile in his throat.
"Well!" DeMacabre clapped his hands. "My lord has nothing scheduled for today, so I propose that you go back into the bed-chamber and—"
"Actually," said Freetrick desperately, "I do have something. I'm supposed to meet some people."
"People?" DeMacabre head ticked five degrees to the left. "
Meeting
?" His neck cracked. "I have heard of no meeting. What people are these?"
"Ah," Freetrick tried to pound his brain into high gear, "not people, I meant monsters, uh, I mean, monsters eating people. I'm going to watch. A…um, Slaughter Viewing…sort of thing. Uh. Private." Then, as his father-in-law's lips split across his sharpened teeth, Freetrick floundered, "and I was planning to take Bloodbyrn, of course."
The rising tide of murderous insanity left DeMacabre's face as a switch had been thrown. "Splendid!" He clapped. "How romantic. To think of you two young people exchanging your affections as the blood…" he raised his hands, "patters," his fingers wiggled "gently across your bodies…ah." His hand slapped Freetrick on the shoulder once again. "Truly, my lord, you have the makings of a premier Dark Lover."
Freetrick swallowed. "Thank you?"
DeMacabre nodded and grinned again. "And I shall wait here, so that I may greet you both on your emergence from the bower of your cruel delights. In no less than fifteen minutes, I think." An eyebrow rose like a black sun into a blasted sky.
Freetrick nodded, backed up, closed the doors before him.
"I expect to hear screaming!" Sang DeMacabre from behind the doors.
***
Istain could see for miles. The air under the Maelstrom was dark, but also weirdly clear. Now if only there was anything at all interesting to see anywhere around them. The ground was red-shot black, and the sky was swirling dark gray, illuminated by occasional flickers of lighting, and that ominous red glow around their destination on the southern horizon.
"What's that?"
Istain blinked, "what's what?"
"
That
." Dizziness swept through Istain as Madene pointed his eyeballs at a spot in the clouds above them.
"Madene, don't do that!"
"Just look!"
"I am looking," Istain squinted, "but I don't see anything. How could you see something I didn't anyway? We're both using the same eyes to…strike it out what
are
those things?"
"You were just looking," Madene said smugly, "but I was watching."
"Learn that at oppressive regime girl's camp, did you?" But Istain's mouth was dry. Either those shapes moving against the clouds were very close, or they were
very
large. "What
are
they?"
"Flying monsters, I'd assume," said Madene. "I've heard about them, but never seen one. I'll be interested to see how they stay in the air."
"And I bet they think the same thing about us." Istain let go of the handlebar with his right hand reached around under his left armpit to grasp the pistol. "That and what we taste like."
"Oh, they're not going to eat us," Madene was still controlling Istain's head and eyes, looking at the winged specks flapping against the clouds. "They're like subjects of Freetrick now, aren't they? The plan is to tell them who we are and demand they take us to Freetrick, right? What are you doing?"
"Trying to make sure I don't drop this gun the first time I use it," said Istain. Some clever fellow in Rationalist Proctory R&D had fitted a strap around the grip of the pistol, which Istain was trying to get around his wrist. "Ah…got it." He brought the hand to his mouth, tightened it with his teeth like he had practiced. There.
"You don't think we'll need to use that, do you?" Madene asked when his mouth was free again. "All we have to do is tell them…you know," she moved his eyes nervously up to the winged shapes. They were getting closer. And they
were
big. "We have to tell them who we are."
"But will they understand us?" Hours earlier, Istain might not have cared. Now, though, with Selene waiting for him to save her, Istain found he wanted very much not to be devoured. "Not all monsters are intelligent, apparently. And if those ones are, they might not be loyal to Freetrick. And that's assuming he's even given any orders concerning what to do if his monsters intercept his college buddies gliding through the air above his kingdom. And even if he has, we have no way of knowing what those orders are."
"Well, he might not be expecting us," said Madene, "but I think it's pretty unlikely he would order his subjects to attack us, Istain. It's Freetrick."
"Ha." Istain smirked bleakly at the oncoming monsters. "Madene, there's a precedent for bickering young couples causing problems for evil emperors.
I
would sure as striking hell kill us, if I was him. Ow! Don't do that!"
Having someone else roll his eyes for him was not a pleasant experience.
Istain nearly killed both of them the first time he fired the pistol. The recoil from the struck-out weapon his arm back against the handlebar, and the glider suddenly tipped. For a bowel-loosening moment, they simultaneously fell, spun, and flipped sideways, all the while surrounded by a hurricane of black feathers and snapping jaws. The man-sized creatures chattered in fear and frustration as the gunshot echoed off the ground and the glider dropped out from under them. Maybe Istain could convince Madene this was all part of his genius plan. If he could avoid flying them into the ground. Now that he no longer wanted to.
Istain leaned hard against their spin, forcing the upward wing tip down against the air screaming up at them. The glider lurched, bobbed like a ship at sea, skidded
sideways
, and then the nose tipped downward, and they rushed forward and down like a mining car on rails. Istain tried to breathe, couldn't, and realized Madene was using his mouth to scream with.
He snapped his mouth closed, and before Madene could sequester his voice again, shouted at her, "We're okay! We're okay!"
"No we're not!" Her fear contorted his face, "we're going to crash!"
"Not if we—" there was a flare of black feathers in Istain's peripheral vision and the monster struck the tip of the glider's wing. "—get eaten first!" Istain leaned against the handlebar. Once again they shot forward and down, and something squealed its frustration behind them.
"We're friends of your king!" Madene yelled again as Istain desperately steered them toward the nearest lava canal—getting
too
near as they lost altitude, actually. Now he could see the creatures that lived around the molten rock with much more clarity than he needed.
They were travelling too fast now, angled far too steeply down. Istain leaned back against the frame as the Proctors had taught him, bringing the nose of the hang glider up and trading speed for height.
They were close enough that the heat coming from the molten rock was actually uncomfortable, but it buoyed them up with all the more force. Istain leaned into a curve and took them into an upward spiral, as tight and fast as he dared. Below them, he could see one of the monsters doing the same, except, you know, lots better. It presumably had some practice at this sort of thing. Its black, streamlined body made an excellent target against the glowing lava below.
"We're friends of your king!' Madene yelled.
Istain grabbed at the pistol as it swung from the thong around is wrist.
"Feerborg! Feerborg your king!"
"They can't understand you!" Istain growled at her, "Or they don't care. There!" His fingers closed over the grip of the pistol, though at cost of another uncontrolled wobbled and another lost yard of height.
Then his fingers spasmed, tried to drop it. "No Istain! You'll get us killed!"
Istain took aim on the monster swelling below them "Not if I don't brace against the frame of the glider…Madene! Stop messing with my hands!"
"No Istain—"
"Madene, you have to let go or we'll both die!" And wouldn't that be striking ironic?
"No!"
The monster was rising to meet them. "Strike it
out
Madene!" Screamed Istain. "Look, you control my mouth and try to reason with them while I…kill them. Okay?"
"Uh…" she said, but his fingers stopped twitching. All Istain had to do was point down and fire.
This time, Istain took the gun's recoil in his own chest. His body bounced in its straps and the glider shuddered, but did not tip or bank. The monster fell away below them.
"Sweet True Words," Madene said, "you actually did it."
"I'm as shocked as you are." Istain leaned forward, taking them in another swoop toward the next lava pool in sight. "Whatever inconceivable horror they have for a god in Skrea," he giggled, "I thank it for giving us so many updrafts. If we can take out the other three monsters the same way we did that one…"
A black blur swooped past them, close enough that Istain could see the long, narrow feathers at the wingtips bend against the wind. The streamlined body seemed to rush toward them.
"Woo!" Was that Istain or Madene shouting as he fired?
The glider juddered again, and the second monster flashed by below them, wings sprawled against the air, tumbling.
"Boo-yah!" Istain cried, "Fly below
me
, you struck out—
gibber
!"
Something slammed into the center of the hang glider above them.
Istain's head twisted around to see the heavy fabric of the wing dent, then rip around five curved talons.
"Gibber!" Istain swore again. He shifted his weight. There was a lurch, a thunderclap of wings against air, and the sound of further ripping canvas, but the glider's direction did not change.
"You're just causing more damage!" shouted Madene, "just turn around and shoot it!"
Because they were hanging from the bird-monster's talons and it wouldn't matter if Istain let go of the handlebar, would it? "Oh." Istain rolled over in his harness and shot upward into the place where he assumed the monster's chest would be.
Only then did it occur to him what would happen when it stopped flapping. With a huge striking hole ripped in the middle of their glider's flight surface. And a huge striking bird-monster convulsing on top of it.
The glider tilted, slid backwards, and they began to spin as they plummeted toward the desert below.
***
The first thing he did was to remove Bloodbyrn's gag. The second thing was to regret the first.
"That was a poor opening move." Bloodbyrn worked her mouth, and made a ladylike cough. The cough jiggled her body in a way that simultaneously interested Freetrick immensely and made him want to hide. By this point, every time he saw breasts he expected someone to hit him.
Freetrick turned his head away from her splayed, pale form.
"Standard practice would of course be to begin the intercourse without word or delay," Bloodbyrn continued, excruciatingly, "while other acceptable procedures would be light knife play, smug gloating, eating small objects off of my belly, or showing me off to your minions. Removal of the gag is only used when the one in control has reason to expect entertaining screams, weeping, or begging for mercy, and my lord should at least have some appreciation of the extreme unlikelihood of any of those reactions from me. In sum, my lord's most recent action only gives me the opportunity to exercise my will upon him, which as even he must see would be counterproductive to the power dynamic I have endeavored to establish in this particular scenario."
Freetrick walked to the wall and hit his forehead against it.
"Oh of course," came Bloodbyrn's voice from behind him. "Of course you do not take advantage of my restrained condition. I suppose I should direct some of the blame on myself." She sighed, "Clearly I have invested too much effort in your aversion-training. The only solution is to have your way with me as I am now, restrained and submissive to your will."