Heirot

Artisuren's skin shivered under the man's touch. He hated how much he liked his voice. "I asked your name," he said in his tongue again with real anger. There was no question now that the male's commands were what was soothing and exciting him in the same breath, and he had no idea how to respond to it. Certain parts of him did, though. His pants were uncomfortably tight as the man circled him.

Havi rolled his eyes without looking up from his work. "Not one for deductive reasoning, are you? Hush for two minutes, and you can ask him whatever you want."

Laurius pursed his lips together. He occupied his time by exploring the phage, admiring him and testingly tracing the contours of his clothing or muscles. He was a beautiful thing, if not strange.

“How much longer?” He finally asked, turning his gaze back on Tenara.

When Havi finally looked back up at the two men, he was surprised by how flushed Artisuren appeared. His cheeks and neck had darked to a warm gray. He didn't have the time or energy to try to figure out how what seemed to be happening was possible. He'd been controlling Tenara too long, and his focus was shaking. "Both of you, stand inside," he said tightly. "And repeat after me as one." He repeated the instructions for the flustered Ivis and waved them impatiently into the circle.

*Tenara,* he tried, seeking out any flicker of her light in the darkness of her mind. He didn't want to leave her unguarded with those two, but he was running out of strength.

Laurius hesitated before entering the circle. He flustered when the being did the same, and they stood chest-to-chest. He could feel the heat of the being, a feverish sensation pressing his shirt to his chest. He cleared his throat, cocking his head back to look up at the phage. He looked at the hard line of the phage’s jaw, his smooth lips. Laurius felt the sting of that kiss, still tasted blood in his mouth.

Tenara’s light was weighted and dimmed be deep unconscious. If exhaustion where a cage, it held her in a disjointed, panicked dream of racing thoughts and regret. She’d done it again. She hadn’t told her family where she was going. No one knew she was here. She was with Laurius, and, now, his very corporeal and wrathful Ivis. She was with Laurius, the man who invented the reason she was taken—the reason she was assaulted, and nearly sacrificed with a sword through her chest.

She’d made a mistake. She’d shown him what her magic could do. What if he took her too?

It was going to happen again. It was going to happen again. The wet dark of a ship’s hold swallowed her. Boots thumped to the beat of her heart.

*Tenara,* Havitharon’s voice filtered in. The ship’s hold slinked away. The boots softened to nothing.

She wasn’t alone. Havi was with her. Havi was with her. The darkness mellowed, becoming less of a cage and more of a weighted blanket she couldn’t leave.

Artisuren stood stiffly opposite his captor. He was so close, close enough to thrust his forehead down into Laurius's and break in his skull. Or to kneel, and rub his horns against his stomach. He hurled the thought from his mind and shivered. Compelled by the man's commands, he stood still.

The princess fed them the incantation piece by piece, pausing while they repeated it back to him.

Artisuren repeated the words. If this meant he would be able to communicate in this world, that would be one major disadvantage out of the way. At first, it seemed like nothing would happen, but then a strange hum began filling his head. It resonated louder and louder, building to a painful ring in his ears. He tried to step back out of the circle, but Laurius's orders held him fast.

"Do you understand?" Tenara's cold voice demanded from somewhere miles away. He shook his still-ringing head. "DO YOU UNDERSTAND?" the voice growled again.

"Yes, yes," Artisuren gasped, his head throbbing.

The princess of Hajara said nothing in response. She got to her feet with what appeared to be great effort, staggered to Laurius's bed, and collapsed.

Havi wasn't surprised when most of his senses went dark as he released Tenara's mind. He'd spent too much strength to hold onto a spectral form at the moment. He was a sword, securely sheathed in darkness on his master's hip. For the first time, the sensation gave him a sense of being settled and Right. His thoughts were too exhausted to be coherent or to truly worry about what was happening in the room. *I could live this way, forever,* he murmured deliriously.

Laurius rubbed his temples when the spell was over, certain nothing had actually happened until the being said, “Yes, yes.”

He’d understood that. He understood.

He watched as the princess staggered away and then caught sight of her rose-colored flats as she toppled onto his bed. He didn’t hear her move after that.

The businessman turned his attention to the being he’d forced into the world and into the blade in his hand. He’d almost forgotten he was holding it, which was bizarre given that it had singed him pretty good. Perhaps he’d clutched it so hard his hand had gone numb. Either way, he wasn’t letting go just yet.

He cleared his throat and took a single step back, hesitantly offering the being his hand. “I’m Laurius. I didn’t catch your name. Tell me again.”

The alien slowly lowered his hands from his pounding head and stared at Laurius. That voice... its effect on him was even worse now that it was his language... or at least it seemed to be. His gaze trailed down to the man's hand extended toward him, and war flashed in his eyes - sharp green eyes, swallowed in black. "I am Artisuren," he answered, not because he wanted to but because he must. The compulsive response just made him angrier. "You dare grasp my horns... kveth mit ach," he seethed. Whatever insult he'd come up with apparently didn't have an analog in their tongue. "When Kisva learns of your disrespect, she'll gut you like a..." he hesitated, realizing what he was about to say.

Laurius smiled coolly. “Yes, I’m sure she would. Unfortunately, for both you and her, you’re nowhere near her realm.” Laurius tapped the tip of the dagger against one of Artisuren’s pectorals. “Now, I’m not sure how long this manifestation of physicality lasts. Let’s not waste the gift the princess bled to give us. Tell me what you need—how I can help you keep your dagger from melting—every detail.”

Artisuren's eyes rolled downward to the blade touching his skin. The sensation of being in contact with it made his skin squirm, for some reason. Or maybe whatever it was that made him respond to the man's commands also made it extremely uncomfortable to be without an answer for him. "I need Kisva," he growled, trying to keep the sudden hopelessness from his expression. "You took me from her."

Laurius glanced away. "I did," he said. There was no undoing it, and no justifying it beyond the fact he was an opportunist and had explored a realm of knowledge few people knew about and even fewer could wield. "It's done now, though. I can't send you back. So, you must exist here, as you are. I can't let this dagger melt—let you melt. It was too hard to come by. Therefore, if you cannot have your Kisva, what do you need Artisuren." He said the being's name like savoring the richest chocolate. It was a beautiful name.

He locked his jaw, nearly shaking with anger. "I need you to die," he said, grabbing the wrist that held the knife to his chest in both hands. He pressed into the man's space, twisting his arm against the joint to try to throw him to the ground.

Laurius yelped, surprised the creature could move beyond the constraints of his command. His will was impressive, or his rage was that powerful. Perhaps it was better to put him back in the dagger. Better than losing an arm or his life. Despite the wrenching pain in his arm, Laurius held fast to the dagger and shouted at Artisuren, "Stop! Release me! On your knees."

Artisuren yelped as the order burst through him. His legs folded so fast, at the same time that his arms tried to retreat, that he was suddenly off balance. He fell more than knelt, knocking Laurius down with him. He stabilized himself on his knees, between Laurius's legs. His eyes were furious and hungry at once. "I don't c-care about your d-damned knife," he trembled above him.

Laurius swallowed, clutching the dagger. "You should," Laurius said. "Aside from me, it's all you have now." It felt wrong to say it. He hadn't expected to be confronted with the being, to have a conversation with the dagger he'd made in flesh. He tried to ignore the guilt worming its way through his belly, but how was he supposed to know the dagger would have a soul that might live and breathe and feel? That it might need the woman it left behind like Laurius needed air and money.

"Perhaps this was a mistake," Laurius said, sliding back a little. "I'll call her back in and she will set you right, back where you were and belong."

Artisuren leaned back, as if he'd been stricken. "You... you can call her here?" he asked. He did not look relieved. To the contrary, the blacks of his eyes had nearly swallowed the green.