She stepped onto the stone of the portal with the witch boy, the hair on her arms prickling with static.
"So, how does this wo-" she asked, turning towards him.
An invisible force caught her in its talons, seized her bodily and flung her down. She gasped, eyes squeezed tight, wind roaring in her ears, bright blue light arcing against her closed eyelids. She felt herself disintegrating, unraveling- and then solid stone was beneath her feet. She opened her eyes and sighed in relief. The witch boy's arm was tight around her waist. Even through the armor, she could feel the heat of his skin. She flushed.
"Um," she said. "You can let go of me now."
He let go hurriedly. She staggered a few steps, regained her balance, then stopped short, looking around.
She was in a cavernous throne room. Vast, rough-hewn pillars disappeared into the echoing darkness, and lava leaked from cracks in the living stone. Minions gibbered in the corners, chattering with excitement. The room was bigger than any hall she'd ever seen in her life. She swallowed hard, trying not to feel overwhelmed.
"So, this is your place, huh?" she asked nonchalantly. "Well, it certainly beats Nordberg. It's warm, for a start."
"Sire, welcome home!"
She turned, startled. A curious wizened creature toddled towards them, illuminated by a luminescent crystal suspended above its misshapen head. It wore a long cloak and a bone necklace, and sported whiskers that would have made any village elder green with envy. She blinked at it, nonplussed.
"I'm not sure about this thing, though," she said. "What is it? Some kind of walnut with ears?"
She reached out before the witch boy could stop her, tugged at the long ears.
"Er...that's Gnarl. He's my adviser. He raised me and taught me everything I know."
"Oh. Er. Sorry." Kelda held out her hand. "Hello, Gnarl. I'm Kelda."
He looked at her hand, bemused, and then cautiously offered a wizened paw.
"Greetings, Mistress Kelda. Welcome to the tower."
"You talk better than the other minions. Why's that?"
"I am very old, Mistress Kelda, and very wise."
"Wise?" the witch boy asked, amused.
"'Mistress' Kelda, hmm? I could get used to that!"
"Perhaps you and your new Mistress should visit the private quarters?" Gnarl suggested, wagging his bushy brows.
"Wait, your mistress?" Kelda asked dubiously.
"Come, come!" A minion tugged at her fingers with a clawed hand. "I show Mistress to chambers!"
"Great! I can see where my fur rugs and hunting souvenirs will go!" She grinned up at the Overlord. "I shall meet you up there, witch boy. We'll discuss this whole 'mistress' thing then."
She followed the capering creature up a long set of stairs into a dark, dilapidated space. She looked around, frowning. Wooden scaffolding lines the walls, and the floor was thick with dust. A grimy fountain gurgled fitfully.
"Hmm," she said thoughtfully, turned to the little creature beside her.
"Go bring some of your friends up here. Have them bring buckets, water, rags, brooms...cleaning stuff, that sort of thing. I want them to scrub this place clean. You understand?"
"Yes, yes, Mistress!"
It scampered away with a clatter.
She wandered through the quarters, looking up at vast statues, trying heavy doors. She came to a place where the dust seemed less thick, followed a set of heavy footprints to a ragged red curtain. She pushed her way through, wrinkling her nose and sneezing. She could hardly see through the gloom, but she thought she saw something glinting like scales in the dark. She stepped forward, felt her shoe click against something heavy. She bent down, picked up a golden goblet encrusted with jewels.
"What on earth?"
She walked into the room, squinting. Gold coins and chests were heaped haphazardly in the corners, spilling over the tiled floor. A pile of furs lay in a corner, surrounded by dog-eared books. She knelt and picked one up, straining to see the cover.
"A Treatise on Wilde Magick," she read aloud, picked up another. "Children's Poems from the Northern Lands. Military Tacticks. The Art and Artifice of War."
She heard the sound of boots on stone, hastily stood and turned.
"Oh, hello, Witch boy. I hope you don't mind, but I've set some of your little friends to cleaning up the place." She gestured to the furs. "Is this where you've been sleeping this whole time?"
"Yes?" he pulled off his helm, looked at her quizzically. "It's much nicer than sleeping in a doorway out in the cold."
"Ah, this won't do," she said. "Don't you have a proper bed?"
"What do you mean, a proper bed?"
"I mean, something that isn't a pile of skins on the floor! And it's so dark in here, I can hardly see!"
"Ah, right. Candles. The minions will bring candles for you."
"Thank you." She paused, suddenly shy. "So...what have you been doing all these years?" She picked up one of the books. "Reading poetry?"
"I've been learning," he said slowly. "Training. Waiting. Planning."
"Planning what, exactly?"
He shrugged.
"The minions tell me that I am the Overlord. My blood speaks to me, says that they tell me truth. I am the latest in a long line of conquerors."
"First Nordberg, and then the world, hmm?"
"Something like that."
"I missed you, you know," she said quietly. "There was a part of me that never believed you were gone for good. But it had been so long, and things were so hard in Nordberg...I guess I didn't have the energy to keep hoping, even."
"I would have come back sooner if I could have. I wasn't strong enough, and the town was crawling with soldiers-"
"I wouldn't have expected you to. You were a child, for gods' sake. It was just lonely." She crossed her arms and shivered, looking up at him. 'What are you going to do with Nordberg?"
"I haven't decided yet."
"I don't think I'd care if you burned it to the ground."
"But it's your home."
"Hardly," she said bitterly. "After my dad died, there was nobody who'd take me in. They flung me on the tender mercies of Borius, and he made me his personal slave, which is unpleasant at any age, but doubly so when you're seven years old and have just lost your father and your best friend." She shuddered. "Borius liked his baths, and you wouldn't believe some of the things that I found under all those folds. Once, a live beetle, just, ugh, crawling around in there."
"Beeeetles?"
A minion poked its bony head around the curtain, licking its lips.
"Not for you," the Overlord snapped. "Get out of here."
Its ears drooped, and it gave them both a look that was so tragic that Kelda had to laugh.
"Oh, but enough about all that," she said cheerfully. "He's dead, and we're not. How about you show me the rest of your place?"
"Alright. Are you hungry?"
"Huh, surprisingly enough after that conversation, yes."
"We'll make our way towards the great hall, then." He paused, dubious. "I'm not sure what Quaver's cooking today."
"Nothing involving beetles, I hope."
"It wouldn't be the first time."
"Yuck, really?" she peered up at him. "Wait, are you...are you teasing me? You're joking, right?"
Was he smiling? She couldn't tell in the dim light. He held the curtain open for her, courteous.
She stepped out into utter chaos. Minions were racing back and forth carrying candles, and somehow some of them had managed to set themselves on fire. Some were balancing on each other's shoulders, trying to light torches, mostly succeeding in singeing each other. A minion raced past her, covered in wax.
"It burns, it burns!"
There was a terrific crash as a pile of scaffolding collapsed, promptly burst into flames. The Overlord closed the curtain behind him and sighed in disgust.
"Gods damnit, not again."
"This happens often, does it?"
"They're...not very good at thinking for themselves."
"Well, at least they seem to be able to mostly think and walk at the same time, which puts them well ahead of your average Norbergian."
"Damn it," he said again, striding into the fray. "Get your head out of that, it's not a hat! Candles are not a food." He punted a flaming minion into the grimy fountain. "Stop screaming, you're not going to drown." He picked another up by the ears, flung it towards the flames. "Go get the reds, and put that fire out." He gave her an exasperated look. "I don't know how they survived without me, to be honest."
She stared at him, seeing him in the light. He frowned.
"Is something wrong?"
"Um...er, no." She smiled slyly. 'Witch boy, I didn't know you'd grow up handsome."
He stared back at her, non-plussed. His sharp-angled face was covered with strangely shaped scars, and his skin was the stormy blue-grey of an angry sea. His hair was an unruly black riot, shadowing golden eyes.
"Er." She tucked her own unruly red hair behind her ear. "So! How about that tour, then!"
"Oh. Right! Right."
She followed him through vast, vaulted halls, heard the scratch and skitter of clawed feet on stone. Yellow eyes peered curiously at her out of the darkness. They walked through the throne room onto a rocky prominence that overlooked the netherworld.
"Oh." She grabbed his arm unconsciously, staggered back.
The fiery depths yawned at her feet. Vast rocks turned and stirred in the silent air, buoyed up by impossible magic. Windows winked from warrens carved into the living stone of stalactites. Far below, the burning heart of the world surged and roared.
"Come on." He stepped onto a floating stone platform, offered her his hand. "Don't worry. It's safe."
She took his hand, flushing, then gasped and clutched at him as the platform fell rapidly away from the outcrop, swooping towards a terrace below. The platform stopped at its destination with a jolt. He looked down at her, amused.
"You can let go of me now."
"Do you want me to?" she asked, winded.
"I-" he coughed. "I have something I want to show you. Come on, I think you'll like this!"
She followed him, trying to pull her hair back into place. He led her through a high archway, and she stopped abruptly.
A pack of wolves lay sleeping in a makeshift den. The floor was covered in straw, and she could see the last glimmer of daylight from a tunnel leading to the outside world. One of the wolves raised its head and barked, stood and shook itself, bounded to the Overlord, jumping up to lick at his face. The other wolves joined in, whining and wagging their tails, bouncing excitedly.
"They're just like dogs around you!" Kelda exclaimed, delighted.
"Look." He pointed.
An elderly wolf limped across the room to them, sat at the Overlord's feet with a sigh. He reached down and mussed its fur fondly.
"Recognize him?" he asked.
"Oh my gods." Kelda knelt, offered the wolf her hand to sniff. He whined, nuzzling at her palm. "It's the wolf we rescued! How is he still alive?"
"I figure it's the same reason Gnarl's still alive. There's something about being around all this magic that keeps him kicking."
Kelda buried her fingers in the old wolf's mane. He leaned his muzzle against her shoulder and sighed. She kissed the top of his head.
"I'm glad you made it, old timer," she whispered.
Another wolf bumped her shoulder with its nose. She laughed and stroked its ruff.
"Oh, hello, you. Oh, another one! Hello, do you want me to pet you, too?" She looked up, surrounded by grey bodies. "They're so friendly!"
"They really like you."
"Well, I like them, too. Do they have names?"
"I suppose. I've never asked."
"Ha! We'll, I'll name them, then. You, you'll be Scruff, you, you're a Fang, you're a- oof, you're a Smelly if I ever met one, and-"
The newly christened Smelly knocked her over and tugged playfully at her skirt. She laughed and wrapped her arms around the startled wolf, tumbling across the floor.
"Hey, come on, it wasn't that bad of a name!"
The other wolves barked excitedly, joined in the tangle. Kelda yelped, disappearing in a heap of furry bodies, pushed her way through and blinked up at the Overlord, straw stuck in her hair. Her stomach grumbled, and she gave him an embarrassed smile, picking fur off her sleeves.
"I think I'd like to go eat now."
He helped her up. She looked regretfully back at the wolves as they left.
'Can I come back and see them?"
He looked surprised. "Of course. You can go anywhere you like."
She smiled ruefully.
"I suppose I'm still getting used to that. After thirteen years of being someone else's slave. Oh, and speaking of which...what did Gnarl mean, 'your' mistress?"
"Ah." He looked a little embarrassed. "Gnarl is...very old-fashioned."
"Old-fashioned, huh? Well, I'm not yours, or anybody's. I'm my own now, and I'm never going to be anybody's slave ever again."
"I wasn't asking you to be."
"Good. Just as long as we're clear about that, witch boy." Her stomach growled as she caught the smell of something roasting ahead, and she quickened her pace, tugging at his arm. "Hurry up, I'm hungry!"
She sat beside him at a stone table on a dais in yet another cyclopean room. The hall was filled with minions, scrapping and arguing over food laid out on long wooden tables. In a corner nearby, some were attempting to play instruments, producing a strange, primitive music that was somehow not unpleasant. Minions in stained aprons ran to and fro, staggering under the weight of platters heaped with ground squirrel and forest mushrooms, dried kelp and roasted seal.
"Ah, Mistress Kelda!" A scrawny, one-eyed creature in jester's motley pulled itself up to its full height in front of her, doffed its jingling hat and gave her a courtly bow. "Welcome, welcome! The Beauty of Nordberg! The fair, foxy, fire-haired...er...maiden!"
"Is he making fun of me?" Kelda whispered.
"It's hard to tell sometimes," the witch boy whispered back.
"I have prepared a feast to celebrate your arrival!" Quaver declared proudly.
"It's not beetles, is it?" Kelda asked suspiciously.
Quaver deflated.
"Er, um, no, my lady. I'm sorry, it's seal and squirrel. Did you- did you want beetles?"
"Seal will be fine."
"Right away, mistress! Your wish is my command." The creature gave her another flowery bow and scurried away.
She turned to the Overlord, wrinkling her nose.
"What was that?" she asked.
"Oh. That was Quaver. He likes to think he's my jester." He put his hand in front of his mouth and leaned closer to her. "He's actually not really that funny."
"You don't say," she said drily.
"Am I too late for the baby seal course?" Gnarl asked despairingly, toddling up to the dais.
"Quaver's bringing it out now," Kelda told him. "Here, come sit with us."
He chuckled, sat beside her, wiggling his eyebrows.
"Don't mind if I do, mistress." He looked between the two of them, gave them a lecherous grin. 'So...how did you like your...quarters?"
How could someone put that much innuendo into one word? Kelda shook her head, and the Overlord hid a smile, put his chin on a mailed fist.
"Well, it's dusty, drafty, it smells a bit strange, and it needs a good deal of work. But with a bit of elbow grease, I think we can whip it into shape."
"You- you can whip it?" He looked startled, then a faraway look came into his eyes. He stared into the middle distance, chuckling softly to himself.
"He gets like that sometimes," the Overlord said. "It's best to ignore him, really. Otherwise he'll start talking to you about...ugh...lacy...underthings."
"For the master!" Quaver announced proudly, laid a tray heaped with meat and mushrooms on the table. "And the mistress. Uh, oh, and for you, Gnarl."
"Ah, thank you, Quaver." Gnarl rubbed his hands together in anticipation. "Dig in!"
Kelda picked up a mushroom, sniffed it dubiously.
"Are these safe to eat?" she asked.
Gnarl was showing them into his mouth with gusto. She looked at him warily, carefully set the mushroom aside.
"Wine, mistress?" A minion offered her a cup.
"Ah, thank you." She took it gratefully.
The witch boy glanced at her.
"No, don't!"
She took a sip and coughed, clutching her throat.
"W-what is this?" she asked. "It tastes like moonshine."
"They call it Darksap. The minions brew it out of waste from the hives and whatever else they can find."
"Huh." She took another sip, considering. "I kind of like it."
Gnarl gave her a look of deep respect.
"I like this one, Master," he said. "She's a rough and tumble kind of girl. Heheheh."
He resumed his staring, giggling to himself. Kelda waved a hand in front of his eyes.
"Are you sure he's okay?"
"He'll be fine. Like I said, this happens all the time. We found a statue of some naked goddess or other in one of the tunnels last month, and he was like this for days. How's your seal?"
"Your little creature might be strange-looking, but he can certainly cook! I haven't eaten this well in years." She took another sip of Darksap, smiled up at him. "I could get used to this."
"Careful, that stuff is awfully strong."
"I've been drinking Nordbergian ale since I was five, Dark One. How bad can it be?" She picked up a piece of seal meat, dropped it down her cleavage and giggled, fumbling after it. "Oops! Clumsy!"
"I think you're about done," he said dubiously.
"Mmfine!" She fished the seal meat out, tearing at it savagely. "Mmfine! Gnarl, tell him I'm fine!"
"She is certainly fine, Master."
"This is tasty," she said, peering into her cup. "I didn't like it at first, but now it tastes a lot better." She swayed in her seat, leaned over to poke the Overlord in the side. "Hey. Hey witch boy. Did I tell you? You're- you're pretty cute."
"I think she likes you, Master."
"I think she's drunk."
"I may be drunk, but I know what I like. You- you big dummy." Kelda slid out of her chair, stared at the floor in surprise. "Hello, floor. What are you doing here?"
"Oh, dear," Gnarl said. "I forgot that humans can't handle our liquor."
"Mm tired," Kelda said, cheek pressed against the stone. "Can I go to bed now?"
"Ooh, yes, Master, take her to bed!"
The Overlord gave his adviser an exasperated look, bent to help Kelda up. She wrapped her arms around his neck and smiled up at him.
"Yes, witch boy, take me to bed. I want to...I want to..." her head lolled and sagged against his chest, and she began to snore.
"Come on."
He lifted her bodily in his arms and carried her to their private quarters. She stirred drowsily, snuggled against him. He could smell the soft human scent of her, felt the strength of her hunter's arms as they tightened around his neck. He laid her down on the furs and stared down at her, felt a strangely mortal tenderness he'd never known before. It worried him. Her eyelids fluttered as he turned to go, and she stirred, reached out to him.
"Witch boy?" she asked him. "Is this your bed?"
"You can sleep here," he told her.
"Don't go," she said softly. "You- you don't have to go, if you don't want to."
He took off his heavy armor in silence, lay down beside her. Her breathing slowed, and she pulled the furs tighter around her, grumbling in her sleep. He watched the lava light play over the pale curve of her cheek, remembering the girl who had loved him. It had been so many years- he'd grown into the monster he was always meant to be, and she- she'd become something wild and strange, a hard woman with soft curves and wicked eyes. He didn't know her anymore, he thought, any more than she knew him.
He had other things he should concern himself with. He shook his head, pushing the thoughts away. Those sorts of things were too human. Being here, next to her, made him feel too human, too vulnerable- and yet, he somehow couldn't bear to leave.
Troubled, he closed his eyes, and drifted into a restless sleep filled with steel and blood.
-x-
Kelda woke with a start, found herself wreathed in soft furs. She sat up, felt a warm depression behind her, squinting in the gloom.
"Witch boy?" she called. "Witch boy, are you there?"
She pushed her way through the curtains, blinking. The quarters had been transformed overnight. Candles glowed in every cranny, and minions scampered over the floor, pushing brooms.
"Mistress!" A minion scampered to her side, wearing a ridiculous powdered wig, holding an elaborate fan that had clearly seen better days. "Good morning!"
"Ugh." She squinted at it, her temples throbbing. "What the hell is that on your head?"
"You like, mistress? Found it in storage! We clean up, find lots of things from the old tower for the new mistress! Pretty things!" It waved the fan at her, sending a billow of dust into her face. "Pretty like you!"
"That's very sweet. Stop waving that around, will you?" She wrinkled her nose. "Is there anywhere I can take a bath around here?"
"Bath? Yes, mistress!" It gave her a sly look. "Does Mistress want help with bath?"
"What? No! Just...just show me where it is." She hesitated. "Where's the witch boy?"
"The Master? The Master is in throne room. Do you want Master to join you?" It giggled, leering up at her. "Don't worry, we no peek."
"No!" she said hurriedly. "I'll join him after I'm a little bit more presentable. I think I still have straw in my hair."
She sank into the bath with a grateful sigh, headache loosening its iron claws on her temples. The bath was a natural hot spring, heated by the fires of the earth below. She let herself slide under the water, drifted in its embrace, letting her body relax in the heat. Everything had changed in an instant, she thought, and now, for the first time in a long, long time, she was...she was happy.
She surfaced with a sigh, found herself staring into yellow eyes.
"Yeek!" She clutched her arms tight around her breasts. "Quaver! What the hell are you doing here?"
"Mistress!" he ducked his head, bells jangling, crouched like a spider on the rocks. "The old Mistress liked me to wash her hair. Shall I wash your hair for you, my Lady?"
"What? No! Get out!"
"But the old Mistress-"
"OUT!"
She hurled a bar of soap with unerring accuracy. Quaver shrieked, racing out of the wash room.
"Ugh." She rinsed her hair and climbed out of the bath, stopped short, drying herself.
"What did he mean, old mistress?" she wondered aloud. "Hmph!"
She swept down the stairs and into the throne room in a storm of skirts, striding to where the Overlord sat on his rough hewn throne, in muttered conference with Gnarl.
"Witch boy!" she snapped. "Quaver said something about another mistress. What was he talking about?"
The Overlord looked up, startled.
"Kelda! How's your head?"
"Don't give me that!" she snapped. "I'm not the first woman you've brought here, am I?"
"What?" he gave her an incredulous look. "You've seen this place, right? You're the first woman who's ever seen it."
"But Quaver said something about- about the 'old mistress'," she said, confused.
"Ah." Gnarl nodded. "He means the Master's mother. He followed her around like a puppy. It was sad, really. He never got over it after she left. I'm sorry, was he bothering you? I can...reprimand him."
"Oh." Kelda blinked, embarrassed. "Oh. No. Sorry, I just thought- er, never mind."
It was stupid, she thought. She'd wanted so much to be the first human he'd shown this place to, and it had shaken her to think he'd shown it to someone else before her. It was silly. She didn't know what was wrong with her. She shook herself, peered over Gnarl's shoulder to distract herself, looking at the papers he was holding.
"What's this about?" she asked.
"Ah, Mistress, while you were asleep, we had news from Nordberg. It seems that not everyone is as pleased with the Master's rule as we are. There are a group of rebels hiding out in a nearby cave. They've stolen half the town's supplies of food and fireworks, and as you know, those rightfully belong to us."
"Hmm." She took the map from his claws and studied it. "Wait a minute. I know this place. This is a hunter's cave, where Jek and his men hide out when they've been poaching." She looked up at the Overlord. "You remember him, don't you?"
"Oh, yes," the Overlord said, with a chilly smile. "I remember."
"It's him and his old gang, mostly. About twenty, twenty-five hunters." She traced her fingers down the parchment. "They've been hiding out from the Empire there for years. They've got this path here rigged so that the slightest sound will trigger an avalanche- you don't want to go that way."
"And this way?" the witch boy asked her, showing her another sketch.
"Hmm." She studied it. "If I know Jek- and I think I do- he'll have this path lined with booby traps and pitfalls. It's probably your best bet, unless your little creatures can scale that sheer cliff face on the other side of the mountain."
"No. We'll have to take this path. Maybe I can send a minion ahead to trigger the traps-"
"Or maybe I could lead you through."
"No, mistress!" Gnarl pulled the map out of her hands. "It's too dangerous!"
"I can take care of myself," she snapped, pulling it back.
"Sire, please! Don't let her come."
"Do you really think I can stop her?" the Overlord asked, amused.
"I'm the only one who knows the way into the cave where they're hiding," Kelda insisted. "It's full of traps and snares. I know how Jek thinks. I know how to disarm them. Please, let me come with you. Let me fight!"
"Master!" Gnarl implored.
"Kelda will lead us in," the Overlord declared. "She knows the route, and she knows our enemies."
Kelda grinned, feral, leaned over the map.
'Excellent. This is how we'll attack, then..."
She moved out with the minion horde, wielding a spear that arced and sparked with magic, dressed for the cold in her boots and parka. The Overlord stalked beside her, tall and imposing in his dark armor. They moved over the snow like a black cloud, the minions tearing at the snow, hurling snowballs at each other, gleeful to be out in the world.
"Up there," Kelda said, gestured up at an imposing crag. "Be careful. Follow me."
She led them cautiously up the mountain pass, paused as the sun glinted off a thin wire. She leaned forward, hardly breathing, cut it swiftly with a dagger drawn from her boot. She pointed up to a pile of rocks on the ridge.
"If we'd run into that wire, those would have all come crashing down us." She crept forward, cautious. "Be careful. There might be more traps."
They followed her, the minions uncharacteristically quiet, muttering back and forth to each other. She paused near the summit, stabbing the butt of her spear into the snow. An iron trap snicked closed, splintering the wood. She pulled it off and threw it aside.
"Look, look, Master, look!" a minion cried.
A man raced across the ridge ahead of them, disappeared into the cave. The Overlord gestured, and the minions swept forward.
"No!" Kelda cried. "Don't-"
The ground gave way beneath the minions at the front of the line. They toppled, shrieking, into a pit of spikes.
"Damn it!"
They picked their way carefully around the pit. Kelda looked down at the twisted bodies and swallowed. The Overlord walked past them without a second glance.
"Follow me," she whispered. "They know we're here."
One of the minions shrieked and ran forward, chasing a man who disappeared into the mouth of the cave. The others followed him, giggling, waving their makeshift weapons.
"No!" Kelda shouted. "Stop them!"
There was a twang of crossbows, and minions fell, startled, studded with black-feathered bolts. The Overlord roared and surged forward, bolts ringing off his armor.
"Witch boy, no!"
She raced after him, her heart in her throat, vaulted past him and cut the first of the archers down.
"Look out!"
She thrust before she could think about it, jabbed the spear deep into a man's torso. He let out a horrible gurgle, clutching the shaft, toppled against the wall.
'Oh, oh gods," she whispered.
It was one thing to kill a seal, another entirely to kill a man, she though. His eyes had met hers as he'd died, he'd-
"Kelda!"
The witch boy whirled, axe flashing, cut down an archer who had crept up next to her.
"Behind you!"
She thrust her spear forward without thinking, scoured the side of one of the hunters. The Overlord spun, hands spitting fire. The hunter howled, clutching his head, pitched over onto the ice, blood leaking from his nose.
"Are you alright?"
She caught her breath, looking up at her witch boy. He'd been wounded, black blood trickling from the corner of his mouth.
"I...yes. Thank you, I-"
She could feel the heat of his body. His face was so close to hers. She reached out, almost unconsciously, pulled the wrappings from his face and pressed her lips against his. She tasted copper and lightning, felt him respond. He pushed her up against the icy cave wall, hands fumbling beneath her parka. She tugged at his belt, biting his lower lip, urgent.
"Sire!"
Gnarl's voice broke through the heat of the moment. Kelda swore.
"Sire, the other hunters are coming!"
"Damn." She pushed him away. "We'll finish this later, witch boy."
She gripped her spear as the remaining minions boiled past them, hooting and shrieking, brandishing pillaged spears and crossbows. She heard a scream in the tunnels, raced after the minions, spear at the ready.
A score of men waited for them, armed with long spears and heavy swords. Jek was among them, iron helmet pulled low over his eyes.
"Kill the demons!" he shouted. "Kill them all! Marius has promise a thousand Imperials to whoever kills the black demon lord!"
The men shuffled, uncertain, as the minions advanced, giggling. Jek raised his spear and raced forward.
"For Nordberg!" he shouted.
"For Nordberg!" the hunters echoed him.
"For Nordberg?" Kelda asked incredulously, stepping out in front of him. "Are you serious? For a sad little backwater that's not even brave enough to fight the Empire?"
Jek stopped short, startled.
"Kelda? What are you doing here?"
"I could ask you the same question!" she snapped. "A 'thousand Imperials'? What, are you doing the Empire's dirty work for them, now?"
"You don't understand." Jek pointed a spear at the Overlord, trembling. "He- he is a demon, Kelda. We should have killed him years ago!"
"He's my friend," she said savagely.
"Kelda, surely you can't be so naive." He looked from one to the other, frown deepening. "Wait, you're- you're with him? Kelda, you should- you should be with me! We're both excellent hunters, we're the pride of Nordberg. And he, he's just some foundling brat, he's not even worth your-"
"Oh, shut up!"
She hit him in the face with the butt of her spear, hard enough to knock him back. He raised a hand to his bleeding nose, incredulous.
"You- you bitch!" he snarled. "Kill her! Kill them all!"
His men leapt forward, met the minions with a crash of steel. He leapt to his feet and lunged for her, knocking her spear aside and hurling her to the snow. His spear point missed her throat by inches. He planted a foot on her chest, crushing the air from her lungs, glaring down at her.
"I've put up with your shit for too long, Kelda," he snarled. "I've tried to be your friend, and I've tried to help you, but you just won't listen to me. It's time to teach you a lesso-"
A black-bladed axe scythed through the air, whistled through Jek's neck. He looked surprised for a second, and then his head thudded to the snow. His body toppled, and Kelda gasped for air.
"Are you alright?"
The witch boy reached down, helped her to her feet. She leaned against him, wrapping her arms around his waist, fighting for breath.
"I thought-" she gasped. "I thought he was going to kill me."
"Not while I'm here."
She pressed her face against his armor-plated chest, shivering. She felt a hand hesitantly stroke her hair, lifted her face to his, met his lips with her own, twining her arms around his neck. He slid a warm hand underneath her parka, cupping her breast. His thumb brushed her tightening nipple, and she gasped, pushing herself against him, tongue seeking his, hungry, needing him.
"Sire, I believe I've discovered a way into Everlight!" Gnarl declared proudly.
Kelda groaned.
"Oh. Oops. Carry on," Gnarl said.
"What was that about Everlight?" the Overlord asked.
"Ah, it can wait, sire."
"No, it can't. Not if we're going to destroy the Empire."
"I'm afraid you're right, Sire."
"We're coming back." He bent to kiss her, nipped at her ear. "Later," he whispered.
She shivered and took his hand, walking back to the portal outside of town. They stepped onto the portal together. She glanced up, saw a Nordbergian on the walls staring at them. People would talk, no doubt about it. Let them talk, she thought, fierce. She didn't care what they thought. She tightened her grip and felt his fingers flex in response. She closed her eyes and let the portal carry them home.