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They were close. She could feel it. They were travelling frustratingly slow. Her big horse and Manawyhn’s little mule weren’t exactly built for speed. She knew that, of course. It had been all that was available to them in Saril. If she could just fly, she could catch the thieves with ease. But she knew how stupid that was. They had set fire to a village, left a few of their own behind to kill them or die trying.

For all she knew, there was more of them travelling parallel right now, just watching them. The second she took off to catch up, Manawyhn could be ambushed. Even if that wasn’t the case, they didn’t know exactly how many of the thieves there were. There could be dozens of them. If they overwhelmed her, they would kill her and dump her body on the side of the road. Unlike the centaurs, these people would not leave Alcmene with any opportunity to escape and cause more trouble for them.

It was safer to assume they were following a small army. If they stuck together, they had a much better chance of surviving an ambush or whatever waited for them when they finally did catch up. Between their training at the Doujin and Manawyhn’s secret skills with his own black magics, Alcmene was sure they had the advantage.

But their quarry had to know that as well. Two trained Wardens were a force to be reckoned with, so stupid to take them together. Best to wait until they split up and overwhelm them separately.

Her wings shifted uncomfortably against her back and she adjusted her weight on her big horse’s back. She knew she had to keep her wits about he at all times just in case there was an ambush waiting for them behind the next copse of trees, but it was so easy to let her mind wander.

She set her right hand casually against the leather grip of the sword hanging at her hip and breathed a gentle sigh. Even if she did recover the scepter, the Protector would excommunicate her for sure. She was a failure as a Warden. She’d gone to rescue her sister without permission, resulting in her own rape and impregnation by the centaurs. She had continued being more than a little promiscuous during her pregnancy at the Doujin and she would have been a fool to think no one knew about that.

Then she lost the powerful artifact that had initiated her to the level of Warden in the first place. To a group whose intentions were less than clear. After their willingness to set fire to an entire village, it was at least clear that their intentions were not in the least bit good ones.

And how were they armed? The men she had encountered in Medinah were armed with swords and daggers. The one had a bow. Were all of the men in question armed with steel, or was there magic? It stood to reason that there was at least one of them who could use magic. That person had harnessed her scepter to light an entire town, after all. Combatting that person would be a chore.

Her own specialty would be useless against a magic user who was also tied to fire. They would be throwing flames uselessly against each other without any hope of ever overcoming the other. Begrudgingly, she would have had to rely on Manawyhn’s black magic. He would be the one to overcome the magic user that she was fairly sure had her scepter. The rest, she could take them herself. She would take them herself. It was her responsibility to retrieve the artifact. She would manage the bulk of the army she assumed waited for them if Manawyhn would take the one that mattered.

“I know that look,” Manawyhn said, pulling her out of her contemplation. “You’re going to do something stupid, aren’t you?”

“What?” she asked, turning her eyes on the human seated on his cart down below her large horse’s shoulders. “Stupid? Me? I would never-…”

“You skipped out of the Doujin on your own to rescue your sister,” he reminded her. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but that was pretty stupid.

She breathed a heavy. “The one who has the scepter. He is clearly linked to fire in the same way I and Wardens are. He has to be in order to have set fire to that village like he did.”

Manawyhn nodded, reaching up to tap his stubbled chin. “Yes, that’s true. Chances are your magic will not be as effective against him as anybody else in their group. Perhaps I should be the one to stand toe to toe with him. There are not many who know how to defend against the magics I learned in-…”

“Why do you have to be in my head like that?” she asked, shaking her head in disbelief.

“In your head?” he asked. “I was just thinking logically. You both can’t just stand there flinging fireballs at one another. We’ll be here all year.”

“Fine, so you take care of the one with my scepter, I’ll take care of the rest of them and-…”

“We don’t even know how many there are. For all we know, there are three or four dozen of them. Even you would be overwhelmed. Getting back the scepter will be a moot point if you’re dead.”

“I told you that you don’t have to be in my head!” she snapped, then closed her eyes. A deep breath later, she opened her lids and stared down at him. “I’m sorry, I’m just… Sometimes I wonder if the two of us will be enough. Clearly the Protectorate has faith in us, but I don’t know if I have faith in us.”

He smiled up at her and nodded. “This is no different than casting a spell or altering the state of the elements. If you don’t have the faith, you will not succeed.” He reached up, patting her knee gently. “Have faith, Alcmene. We will succeed. We’ll get your scepter back and we’ll go home.”

She nodded and pinched the bridge of her nose. “I’m trying. I never should have-…” a voice, more of an echo touched her ears. She stopped, looking up as if to see whom had spoken.

“No, don’t beat yourself up-…”

“SHH!” she hissed, holding up a hand as if to physically silence him. “do you hear that?”

There was a call somewhere nearby. A male voice. Accented heavily. No, not accented. That was Abrinin.

“That’s got to be them,” Manawyhn said. “They must be just ahea-… wait, Alcmene!”

But she was already lifting her feat up onto her large horse’s back. She centered herself on his spine then leapt up into the air. She was not about to let them get away! Her wings snapped open and beat at the air, dragging her up over the thick canopy above.

There ahead of them. A river. On the far bank, a dozen dark skinned elves were congregated, organizing their travel packs with as many horses. On the near bank, as many men doing the reverse, readying their steeds and packs to ford the wide river. From so high, she couldn’t tell who had her scepter. But she had a guess. They would want to get it back to the desert as quickly as possible. It was probably one of the first pieces of their cargo to get across.

A shout went up from the west bank. She barely had time to look down at its source before an arrow whistled past her. She swore, drawing her sword from its scabbard. The next arrow was rushing up at her. She swatted it away with her sword, then looked up at the group across the river on the east bank.

She didn’t have to wonder where her scepter was for long. The sunlight glinted off sword blades below, shining silver up at her for an instant as each was drawn from its scabbard. Then the glint of red flashed in her eyes. The man at the head of the procession. Naturally.

As she neared the river bank, a gout of flame erupted, bathing her and obscuring her vision. The heat washed over her, but she knew she wouldn’t be harmed. Not after her experience in the burning village the previous day.

When the fire cleared, she was much closer to the grassy river bank than she thought she would be. Her wings snapped wide, slowing her descent. She landed heavily and collapsed into a knee. She had to leap to her feet almost as soon as she touched the damp grass.

She arched her back, twisting out of harm’s way as a sword swooshed through the air where she had been a moment before. She landed closer to the river as another gout of flame washed over her. She glared into the blinding light and spread her wings to either side. She imagined, believed whole heartedly that the fire would follow suit, parting the path of her wings to either side of her.

The flames split down the middle, angling off to either side as if a great wind were pushing the tongues with an unrelenting force. There, at the center of the fiery V was her target. An Abrinin man with her scepter in hand outstretched toward her.

She pushed off the ground and sprinted toward the man with her sword at the ready over her head.

A loud crack, like the clap of thunder boomed behind her. She skidded to a stop and turned, her head whipping back to stare at the river’s rushing water. It slowed and stilled, freezing quickly from the far bank toward her and the rest of the Abrinin bandits. At its center, Manawyhn was rushed to join the battle. Arrows lanced out at him and for a moment, Alcmene wanted to turn away from her target and attack the archers.

Then he was laughing. “Quaint magic,” the Abrinin taunted. “This river has never frozen. Nor will it ever.”

A gentle breeze washed over Alcmene’s mind, like a faint whisper. She felt her skin warm under the summer’s sun. The brush over her mind grew and the whisper reached a screaming crescendo. Her skin felt as though it were beginning to blister. She grit her teeth, tightening her grip on her sword.

The ice began to pop and clap once more. Cracks began to appear, webbing across the frozen surface like craggy snakes. Where each crack formed, gouts of steam erupted into the air. Manawyhn did his best to dodge each geyser’s jet of steam and scalding water, but they were growing closer and more frequent.

The laughing faintly sounded behind her again. Closer this time. She felt the rush of air and heat against her body again, but this time it was tangible, physical. Alcmene ducked and spun away, pivoting on her foot a she swung her sword up and around. It rang loudly against the scepter she sought to rescue.

Again the Abrinin laughed as he stepped away, her own weapon giving a shrill whistle as he spun it about flippantly. “How crass you rush in. Alone and surrounded. There is a fine line between stupidity and valor.” He stepped farther and farther away from her, but stopped. “I like you, little bird. I will make a deal with you.” Her staff stilled, parallel to the ground and held proffered in the thief’s hand. “Take it. I will give it back. You can take it home.”

She felt her heart leap in her breast. She was going to win!

Another thunderclap sounded behind her. And Manawyhn’s voice, screaming in agony. Her fluttering heart stopped and sank into the pit of her stomach. She turned her back on her goal, peering into the river. The ice had all but melted. Large chunks were drifting away on the current, all shrouded in steam. There among the bergs was Manawyhn flailing against the rushing water.

His robes were weighing him down and pulling him under the surface. His movements were stilted and slow. She looked back at the cackling thief then turned to the river again. Goddess damn him! Her wings snapped open and she leapt into the air.

As she rushed toward her foundering companion, she deftly sheathed her sword and ground her teeth together. His head had gone under and she could see him struggling for purchase.

When she finally reached him, she reached down into the water, careful not to get her wings wet. Pain rushed up her arms like fire. She wanted to flap and climb away from the agony, but she knew the cost would be far higher than she was willing to pay. Her fingers snagged Manawyhn’s robes and she curled them tight, squeezing the wet fabric against her palms.

She screamed at last, though she didn’t want to give the Abrinin the satisfaction of hearing it. Her wings beat at the air, dragging her slowly up and away from the river with the magician dangling below her. He groaned and wheezed, coughing up hot water and dark red blood.

Tears welled in her eyes and she tried to blink them away if only enough to see where she was carrying her friend. The shore was approaching, but far too slowly. She wasn’t sure they would make it. Any moment, she knew her grip on Manawyhn’s robes would slip and he would be lost. She feared her wings would give out and they would both plummet into the scalding waters below.

Painfully slowly they approached the river bank and with each beat of her wings, the water reached up for them just that much closer. She suddenly felt drag and a pull against her friend’s heavy body and he cried out again. Below, she saw his feet disappear into the steaming liquid.

She dug deep, scraping for every bit of energy she could muster. She grit her teeth again and beat at the air. One, two, three more times before they gave out and they were falling.

They landed heavily and the air rushed from Alcmene’s lungs. She coughed and sputtered, grasping for breath that was too slow in coming. But they had landed on solid ground. She turned, ignoring the pain I her hands and arms as she crawled to her friend.

His face and hands were bloated and covered in angry red blisters. His eyes were swollen shut and his body quaked and quivered in shock. She grasped at his clothes, reaching through the pain to pry the hot fabric away from his body.

When she rolled his nakedness onto the soft, cool grass, his shaking slowly stopped and he gave but a whimper. His breathing came in raspy, wheezing gasps and her heart sank. He must have swallowed some of the water and burned his lungs.

Rough hands grabbed her wings and yanked her away from him. She screamed and tried to pry herself away from the men, she was sure it was more than one of them. Their deep, vile laughter promised of a suffering she was all too afraid of.

The air rushed from her lungs again as her assailants slammed her against the ground. For a moment, she went limp as she gasped for air, struggling to fill her tight lungs again.

Two Abrinin men crouched over her, tearing at her clothes. She felt the warm sun beating down on her bare chest and against her legs and naked hips far quicker than she would have ever liked. Her heart leapt into her throat and her muscles tensed. This was happening all over again, like the centaurs had done almost a year ago!

“No!” she pled, struggling against two strong hands that held her wrists down. Heavy knees pressed painfully into her wings, restraining her torso completely. “Let me go!”

“Why would we wanna do that?” one of the elves chided. “The boss told us to make sure you didn’t follow him. We’re gonna have a bit of fun before we do that.”

Shade washed over her body, protecting her from the sun’s unrelenting rays. Unfortunately, it was the second elf. He forced her legs open and laid himself between them. She struggled against him, but between her arms and wings being restrained, there was very little she could do.

Tears welled in her eyes as she relived the pain she had suffered at the hands of her hybrid captors before. These elves were going to do it to her all over again. A soft whimper passed her lips, punctuated by a sharp gasp when she felt the elf enter her.

Much like Nessus, the elf wasted no time with foreplay. Alcmene’s body rocked and jolted against the grass with every hard thrust into her unprepared body. She grimaced and winced with every entrance. He was much, much smaller than the centaur but it didn’t hurt any less.

She whimpered and sobbed as the elf took her. This was her life, wasn’t it? What had she done to anger the Goddess so much that she had been cursed to live through rape after rape? Would these elves leave something behind as well? Of course not. If she was lucky, they would kill her and she wouldn’t have to suffer any more.

Her head turned away as lips and unsympathetic teeth closed around one of the peaks of her breast. They would kill her, then they would kill Manawyhn.

She stared at her unconscious friend laying nearby, resigned to her fate. Rage filled her a moment later as the second elf shifted his weight off one of her wings and blocked her view. Instead, she was met with the sight of his engorged phallus.

“Got another to tend to, little bird!” the elf said. As she opened her mouth to protest, he shoved his vile appendage past her lips.

She nearly gagged as her second rapist wasted no time in shoving himself down her throat. His hand on the back of her head kept her still as he rammed himself balls deep again and again without care. It was hard to breath and even think as she was taken forcefully from both ends. This was how she was going to die! Chocking on the thief’s dick while the other filled her belly with unholy seed. She would pass out from lack of air and then death would take her. A moment later, it would take Manawyhn, too.

No! Her brow creased. There had to be some way to stop this! Her sword had been discarded, she was being held down by two strong men. Manawyhn was much more adept at magic than she was, but he was unconscious and unaware-…

Manawyhn’s magic! That was it! She didn’t understand the nuances of his new craft, but he had explained the basic concept to her. Her thoughts were distracted by a loud moan and the elf between her legs stilled. Her eyes widened as she felt his vile heat rush into her belly. A moment later, two hands held her face tightly against the second’s Abrinin’s groin.

She choked and sputtered against him as his essence rushed into her throat. In an effort not to drown on his seed, she swallowed as quickly as she could as her mind raced. There had to be a way to use Manawyhn’s black magic to save them. If Manawyhn were awake, he would be able to pull them off of her…

That was it! She needed help to escape her rapists and the unconscious Warden laying feet away from her was the key. She lifted her legs, wrapping them tightly around the elf lodged inside of her womanhood. Her hands reached out and grasped at the man buried in her throat, holding him tight against herself. Once both of the elves were immobile, Alcmene closed her eyes and reached out, searching for the life essence that made up what could be described as their souls.

She found the spark deep inside of the man emptying his load into her mouth first. She imagined she could reach out and grasp it with her hands. As soon as she did, she felt him jerk in her mouth, trying to get away. His companion continued to maul her breast, blissfully ignorant of what was about to happen.

Once she had captured the elf’s spark, she imagined herself pulling it away from him, drawing it out of his body to drift toward Manawyhn like a candle’s pale smoke on a breeze. His struggling grew more frantic as his essence was tore away from him, but Alcmene held firmly to him from both front and rear.

He began to scream loudly, finally cluing his companion in to what was going on. But it was too late. His body suddenly went limp as that life energy left his form and began to permeate Manawyhn’s.

As he fell back away from her, Alcmene let go of his body and gasped, choking as she tried desperately to fill her deprived lungs. She coughed up a bit of his disgusting spunk, but quickly refocused her attention on the elf trying to pry her legs away from him.

“The hells did you do to him!?” the thief yelled. “Let go of me, you bitch!”

She glared up at him, holding him firmly in place between her legs. She wrapped her arms and wings around him, hugging herself tightly against her rapist as she repeated the process of searching for his essence.

It was surprisingly easier the second time, tearing his soul away from him. She pushed it into Manawyhn’s body which she felt had begun moving again. He was getting up, stumbling toward them with increasing strength.

Finally, she felt warm hands on her ankles, pulling away from behind her rapist. She untangled herself from the Abrinin and a moment later, Manawyhn pulled his body off of her and tossed it aside.

The weight of what had happened came crashing down on her. Tears welled in her eyes again and she curled into a tight ball. Warm hands helped her sit up and hugged her against a gently rocking chest.

“I… I killed them! Forever!” she sobbed against Manawyhn’s bare form. “I took away their souls and and….” She choked and cried loudly. They would never see eternity, be it the Celestial or the Vaults. Because of her. And worse than that… She pushed her friend away from her and stared down at her taut belly. She felt ill, as though a vial of acid had been opened inside of her deepest sanctuary. She imagined she could watch the taut flesh begin to expand and grow before her very eyes.

“He… He….. Manawyhn, he came in me!” She muttered unintelligibly for several moments, clawing at her pale flesh until Manawyhn pulled her hands away. “He planted his seed in me and I… and I….” She wailed loudly and collapsed against him, barely aware of the soothing words he was trying to give.