Chapter 4: New Troubles 

It was only when he was halfway down the tower, once again breathing in the clean summer air, that he recognized the fear that had made its way into her voice. 

It was also then that Nathanial noticed the vines beginning to shift and twist above and below him. It was still too high to drop from, but the massive vine he’d been using as a rope had remained still, so he started to climb down as fast as he could. 

Flowers started to twist about, like they were watching him, and as he was almost halfway down, the greenery parted in front of him, and he was pulled into the tower by way of an unseen window and a sudden torrent of wrapping and grasping plants. 

A loud, startled, and extended “Oh shit” escaped his lips as all of this happened.  Then, the plants released their grasp, and Nathanial once more found himself inhaling the pungent sweetness of the place, and this time it washed over him with such intoxicating deliciousness he let out a whimper while he climbed to his feet. 

He didn’t understand that the adrenalin, much like the arousal the flower girl upstairs inspired, made the drug move through his bloodstream all the faster. 

“I hope you didn’t use such language with my sister, she’s far too delicate for such vulgarity. But let me look at you stranger.” 

Golden sunlight beamed into the room from behind him, and unlike the room above, this part of the tower was joined to the body of the manor, and seemed to be more of a landing than any type of chamber.  Nathanial’s assailant however, was much more than the creature he’d met above.  She too was green skinned, with white gloves that reached her elbows, and she too seemed consumed by, or her lower half was made of a flower, but even that was so much more than the other.  Her hair, and eyes were all a deep, lustrous violent, while her petals were a soft pink rose, and while their faces had a similar roundness, the creature before him bore no sign of fear, but instead a gentle curiosity and something like concern. 

It was hard for Nathanial to notice though, as this creature’s torso seemed to be nothing more than two massive breasts, at least at first sight. They were gargantuan, swollen, and did not seem bound by their considerable weight or by gravity. 

“I was as,” Nathanial’s hand slid down to where he kept his knife tucked behind his back only to discover it was gone, “polite as possible. You’ll excuse my shock, I was only just leaving.”  “But you couldn’t be polite as possible, calling on my dear sister uninvited and unannounced. She is my charge, and dear to me, and someone as handsome and charming as you, well, whatever would they say of her honor. You were alone with her in her bedchambers, and that sort of scandal is hardly well mannered is it? ”

The buxom flower girly spoke with such earnest concern and such gravity that Nathanial’s only clue to her irreverence was the smirk on her face. “Nor would it be polite to come into my home and not introduce yourself to the mistress of the manor. I am Lilyana Courles, and you would be? A bandit? A philanderer? A robber? Am I off the mark sweet stranger? And tell me, could you be truly polite, not even introducing yourself to me?” 

As she moved closer to him, the air felt thick with her scent, and the cloying sweetness that was starting to fog over his brain began to feel like a blanket of warmth wrapping around him.  Where was his knife? It had stayed in place through harder, longer, and more violent falls. It would have had to have been... Nathanial hid his frown, then blinked at the pressing weight of this woman’s voice; her words felt as heavy on his mind as her breasts were on his eyes. 

He almost couldn’t fit the thought of the sister upstairs having somehow lifted it from him while in the presence of this one’s breasts and hearing her invasive, overwhelmingly charming voice.  “Nathanial is my name. I’ve of no station to have a last name, or a family name. I am a treasure hunter.” He scooted himself back from her, and as he did, the light in the room dimmed. Vines, like prison bars, descended across what had once been a window. 

She laughed and gave him a knowing look, “Which is to say?” 

“A robber,” there was no point in denying it, or arguing with this monster girl who, he realized, could have choked the life out of him or could have possibly even torn him asunder with her plants. “A robber of monster lairs and of ruins, not of homes and houses.” 

That was a lie, but a believable one, one he liked to pretend was true, one he tried to will into truth as often as possible. 

“Yet, you are in my home, taking from me and my family, and while we are not slobbering beasts, we are neither wholly human, so I forgive your assumptions. But you are a robber still, and an ill used one too.” She smiled, and her gloved fingers brushed the hair away from his bandage. “Tell me, did you suffer this wound in coming to hunter my sweet sister’s fairest and finest treasure?” 

Her touch came so slowly, so gently that it reminded him of the way he would quiet a dog. Her voice was in the same low tone, the same soothing, friendly tenor, and as her gloved fingers touched him, it was all softness. 

The fear that had been humming in his body had slowed, quieted, and become muted by his own deep, calming breaths. He wasn’t panicking now, but his mind wasn’t clear. 

“No, and I knew nothing of your family, nor would I seek to take such a treasure.” Without his knife he couldn’t cut a way out, but maybe his charms would let him contort his way through this creature’s net.  “Oh,” she made a face of theatrical sincerity, “do you insult my sister’s beauty, is she not fine enough for your discerning eye? What baser thing could tempt you into this old shack?” 

It was polite to laugh at your host’s humor, and honestly she was considerably funnier than he’d ever expected any sort of monster to be. “No, I’d come only for some scant treasures to settle pressing debts, and I’d hoped to avoid all such dangers that surround the legend of this place.” 

Honesty in this regard felt like it would serve him better, and as he spoke, she placed another hand on his face and held him still. His head swam, his thoughts barely above the golden warm depths of pleasure that were washing over him with every breath, and as often as he reminded himself that it was her scent hard at

work on him, he answered himself that it felt good to see her smile, to keep her happy, if only to preserve his safety. 

“Dangerous indeed, but tell me, what trouble must you be in to come to us in such a state? And while it was considerably rude of you to sneak in like a common thief, and take whatever pittance you’ve found for why else would you be fleeing so quickly, I’ll not stand by a guest in my home, invited or not, going unattended when they’ve suffered such physical harm.” 

Her voice had become as cloying as her scent, and as she looked into his eyes, Nathanial felt held, captured, almost by the gaze and the grip of her concerned, maternal tone and the emphasis she put on his wound. “Tell me what has brought you here, tell me what has given purpose to a wounded man, and a man wise enough to avoid such danger, such clearly legendary danger?” 

Nathanial felt her voice embracing him, holding him as surely as her hands held his face, and he felt soft in that moment, soft and slow, sleepy in her voice, as her presence started to smother him in kindness.  “I owe my guild money, and my… my enemy will use it as an excuse to embarrass me, and to torture and kill me. Slowly, painfully, after taking everything away from me, even the hope of getting back on my feet.”  His head had fallen forward, his cheek was resting on one massive breast as she stroked his head.  It didn’t feel like what had actually occurred, that she had pulled him closer. 

No, it felt as though the strength in his body was slipping, that the fear, no, the terror that had kept him moving at a run for months on end had vanished and that he was finally, truly safe. 

He felt like warm water had filled his veins, “That won’t happen now. Just listen to my voice my guest, let my hospitality comfort you. You are safe here, away from all else, away from danger. You’ve longed, for so very long, to be safe, and cared for haven’t you? You poor poor man, you brave soul, listen to the sound of my voice now, only my voice and rest your head on my breast, so soft, so inviting to the skin as to the eye, lose yourself in my breasts now.” 

All of the failures that had brought him to this point drained out of him as the musical, comforting and nurturing tone of her words continued to cast its spell. His arms closed around her waist, hugging her back, grateful for her kindness, and as he felt himself slowly sinking into her, the image of her breasts was still on his mind as his head rested on her chest. 

He nuzzled up to her softness, drunk on her scent, and he thought of himself falling between her breasts, smothered by them, lost in her cleavage. 

“You’ve needed to be cared for, so alone, in so much danger. You’ve needed a reward for your tenacity, your courage, and you’ve found it. What did you find in my sister’s room, besides her beauty, Nathanial?”  “Five old golden coins, enough to save my life.” It felt so good to say that out loud, to be in a place where his victory accounted for something, where his efforts weren’t for naught. 

“Then your quest is over,” she cooed into his ear, “rest now and let me tend to you. Let me treat your wound are care for your needs.” 

It was too hard to move. His body had given up, released from the tension in its muscles that kept him sharp and quick, ready to bolt, like a deer that knew it was being stalked. 

“Let your heavy eyes stay closed and dream of my breasts, dream of my softness and be still, so very still now, like your muscles have fallen asleep while your mind half dreams of the sound of my voice. You’ve come the distance, too near the nothing, half way to oblivion in everything sweet and soft now.”

Her words clouded the parts of his mind that could see through the fog of her scent and the softness of her touch. In the garbled, confused moment that her voice was invoking, Nathanial missed the moment where she peeled his bandage away, but felt a sharp point of pain as the skin tore slightly. 

His eyes opened, and he let go of his grasp around her waist, but everything was still slow, tranquil, and sedated. He looked at her, and saw on one fingertip of her white glove a small dab of what looked very much like honey. 

“Be still, so still now Nathanial, still and silent, and heavy with a body of sleep and a mind at peace. Rest in my voice, and place your head back on my breast. I am a pillow for your weariness, and warmth against your cold fears, come into my arms, and let me be a salve for your wounds, of flesh and spirit. Breathe me in again and again, and fall away into my care.” 

Her words were a tangle of blows against his resolve, or his resolve became entangled in her words, smothering his thoughts as surely as her cleavage enthralled his eyes and captured his dreamy, weary mind. It was impossible to feel strong, to feel able and sharp, not when she finally offered him what he needed, not when he had finally done what was so long seemingly out of his reach. 

“Who are you?” Back and forth he rocked on legs that were turning to jelly with every breath. He wanted to say, ‘It was rude of me not to ask’, but those words were too far away, and took a strength he didn’t feel he had. 

“Why Nathanial, I’ve told you, I am the Mistress of the Manor, and so,” with one hand she pulled his head back to her breasts, and with the other, smeared the sticky substance on her finger across the freshly bleeding wound on his forehead, “you may simply call me Mistress. Do you understand?” 

“Yes Mistress.” A new warmth spread through his body, one form the inside out, one that started in his loins and surged to the top of his head and the tips of his toes. 

“I’ve given you a very special medicine my sweet, but you need more. You’ll find it very much to your liking, I promise you.” Nathanial felt a dull, pleasant ache starting to form in his testicles. “It is in my nature to care for you, come, partake of my medicine and let me heal you.” 

Nathanial’s body felt a current of life slicing through the heaviness, but as she stroked his cheek and shifted herself, he felt pliable in her grasp, like it was easier to be moved than to move himself, and as one, large, pert nipple was pressed to his lips, he began to suck without a word from her. 

It was like drinking sunlight and warmth, and it tasted like honey. His lips and tongue tingled as the wound on his forehead had, and as he drank her down, his cock stiffened with an impossible speed. He was putty in her gloved hands, and as she slid one such hand to the fastenings on his trousers, Nathanial’s hips bucked up in desperate anticipation. Though he was unaware of is, his cock was already leaking precum, already ready to erupt with the slightest focused stimulation. 

“How long, sweet Nathanial, how long since a woman has touched you? You needn’t answer your Mistress, only know that I do this out of love for you, out of care for my guest, my sweet, delicious visitor. Share with me, nourish me with your appreciation as my medicine sooths all your aches and hurts.” 

“Forget for me now, forget all else,” something warm and soft, something tight closed around his cock. It felt like a woman, but as it bobbed up and down on him faster and faster, and as he started to cum it only grew warmer, wetter, and tighter.

“Lose all that was, lose yourself in me, give me your name, give me your dreams, give all of yourself to me, to my voice, feed me as I fill you with light, and love, and warmth.” He shuddered again as a second, more powerful and heavier orgasm erupted through his body. 

The pleasure sparked his hands to life, grabbing, and squeezing at her massive breasts, both hands on the one he suckled from, as though he were trying for more of what was inside. 

“Mistress knows what you need, you need to provide for me, to sustain me, to care for me as I’ve cared for you. Give of yourself, drain yourself as you suckle at my affections. Be nothing now, free from all but me, free to give all of yourself to me, for me, inside me.” 

Nathanial did not see the protuberance at the end of the vine that sprung from the base of her flower and swallowed his cock. His eyes were closed and he was lost in the lilting, encouraging music of her voice, and the drugs she plied him with to make him so docile and susceptible to her will. 

As his essence pumped into the vine, if flowed into her, satisfying her hunger, and her desire, turning her words into cooing sounds of ecstasy and satisfaction. Soon, his hands were too weak to grasp, his body too tired to suck, and that was when she released her succubus flower from him. 

He awoke again, only briefly, as she attached another sucker to his cock, one that was within a man sized flower that closed like a pod around him. It would not drain him, it would only keep him stimulated, cultivating a larger load for next time, while keeping him docile and compliant, comatose in this dungeon of flora. 

Nathanial’s eyes had closed when his purple haired Mistress told him to sleep, and just as he was unaware of what was befalling him, so too was he unaware of what was soon to come. 

Chapter 5: Dreams 

 Chandra’s arms were around his neck, her lithe body pressed against his, “After tonight, we can do anything, go anywhere, become anyone. No more sneaking, no more robbing and no more fighting Nathanial, we can become anything we want.” 

He kissed her, and ran his hands over the short spikey stubble of her shaved head. She had yellow hair when she let it go, but kept it shaved for practicality, “You’re the only fighter here, and all I want is to be your husband.” 

She giggled and slid her hand between his legs, “I know what you are, I know what you want.”  In the past, in other dreams, this moment would end with him running along the water soaked gangplank. He would feel his feet moving in long, perfect strides, off the Ghost Ship, onto the raft. He would feel the weight of the box, in his arms, and he would adjust for it, knowing his balance was perfect, just as he’d practiced it on even more slick, even more narrow beams. 

He would step from the plank onto the flotilla, then he would take three short strides to their boat while Tobin and Garick followed, ready to cut the lines, and dump the plank. 

He would feel Chandra’s hungry kiss on his lips and the wet, embrace of her womanhood spill into the cold saltwater and stinging blood of failure. 

His last warm moment would fall into bone chilling dread as he fell into the ocean, the metal chest roughly the size of a large loaf of bread and filled with coins, falling out of his arms, down into the depths as his head hit the side of their ship.

He would feel the water pulling at him, drowning him as surely as it swallowed his dreams, and then he would awaken to the sour reality of his life. His life as a failure, his life as Eels. 

After the Ghost Ship came the attempt on the traveling museum of antiquities, a plan that should have worked, but that fell as hard as he did on that raft in the ocean. Fleeing from the mercenaries that seemed to have been expecting him, hoping that the crossbow bolts that had torn Garick to pieces, wouldn’t be finding his back, or any other part of him as his friends. 

He hoped to any god that would listen that Chandra wouldn’t meet the same fate. It was his fault she was still working, his fault she was still serving as muscle, and though she hadn’t so much as kissed him since he ruined the Ghost Ship job, his love for her was more than that. That was why he’d slowed his pace, that was why he’d drawn hers and Tobin’s pursuers to his trail. 

That was why he didn’t mind the nickname, not at first. 

It was when he couldn’t get in on any other jobs, when rumors about him being cursed with the failure’s stench, when the rumors about how he’d lost a step, lost his hands, lost his nerve, lost his luck, and lost anything else that had made him an excellent treasure hunter, that the shame started to eat at him. Then the need to eat started eating at what he’d had left, which wasn’t much. 

It had cost money to put together those last two jobs, and when they didn’t pay off, he was left unable to scrounge together his guild dues. As a criminal, or at least as an extralegal treasure hunter, he needed to pay in for protection and security, he needed to pay in to not be an outsider, to not be an enemy of the guild. 

It had cost money to put together those last two jobs; they were supposed to have been investments. It had cost him his nest egg, his cushion, his lifeline, and those losses were part and parcel with losing Chandra. He didn’t blame her. 

He couldn’t. 

She was a street fighter, battle tested, battle hardened, and denied of any sort of sympathy in her professional life. Why would she have stayed with someone that cost her the only way out any of them had ever seen? Why would she come back to him for a third failing? 

It was the same for Tobin. He was shark, a bully, someone who smelled blood and smelled weakness, someone who couldn’t help himself when he did. Though in his darkest heart Nathanial wondered if Tobin had been behind all his disasters, the lanky brute had stood to lose as much as any of them with the Ghost Ship. 

Unless… unless his jealousy for Chandra truly was enough for him to lose out on what else he had to gain. 

Chandra. 

Her strong hands held his shoulders, her hips pushed up into him as he pushed down. Her kiss was hungry, her sweat smelled sweat to him, and it wasn’t ending. The dream wasn’t becoming a nightmare, it was only going on and on, one sweet moment without beginning or end. This was a torturous heaven, a delightful and willing suffering that Nathanial would gladly endure for whatever eternity would make the rest of his life. 

He was with her, his lover, his hope… nothing that happened after that last sweet night had happened, the future was still to come, and they were together, forever embraced in this moment of… 

Chapter 6: The Escape 

Light.

White, bright, irresistible light scrubbed the image of Chandra from his mind, and washed the sense of her from his body. 

“Be still, be quiet, listen, you’re in grave danger and you must be careful.” 

Nathanial’s eyes opened to the sight of the blue haired flower girl. 

His eyes widened in horror as she held his knife up in her hand. 

“No, be still, I’m freeing you. Look at me, don’t close your eyes, don’t sink into it, be with me and..” Her hands were down by his cock, his very hard cock, and the knife slid through something, and he felt a twinge of longing as she did, as something wilted around his shaft that she pulled away. 

“Pull up your trousers, and remain silent. You’re in one of her pods, well, our pods, but I despise them. I despise it all. My sister Lilyana captured you. I thought she would, I didn’t know for certain, that’s why I stole your knife. Had she found it on you, she would have thrown it down the old well, down where anything and everything that could cut through the vines, the pods, or our skin goes.” 

“Pods?” Gods, he was thirsty and dizzy, and weak. 

“Yes, pods. We can feed off of your essence, your seed, it sustains us, and the pods stir it inside you, like a stew long cooked.” She smiled down at him as Nathanial’s face twisted into a weary and puzzled stare. “Before we were this, we were sisters. I was Dahlia then, that is my name still, and I remember stew, and having legs, and life outside of the manor. This is why you must flee. If Lilyana sees you again, you’ll be easy prey for her, and I cannot stop her. If my other sister finds you, in this state, you’ll be destroyed before you realize you’ve been beguiled yet again.” 

“I’m so weak Dahlia, so thirsty. I can’t hardly move, let alone stand, or flee.” It was true. He’d tried to prop himself up more, tried to find the strength to move, but he was drained, truly drained. “I know. I know, and I’m sorry. I can help you though.” She produced a small, crystal bottle, roughly as wide across as his palm. “Drink half of this now.” 

There was a moment of awkward realization between the two of them as he stayed slumped against the pod. 

“Here,” she uncorked the bottle and poured it into his mouth, it was water, cool, clean, and sweet in every way. “Now, listen, you must trust me.” 

With her free hand, she pinched one of her nipples until a small drop of golden honey-like liquid pooled on her fingertip. “It will invigorate you, and I will help you focus that energy. It affects your body in one very specific way, but it affects the mind too, and I can guide the mind and restore your strength, at least long enough for you to escape. You must trust me.” 

She held out her fingertip to him, and he kissed the sweet fluid off her fingertip. Immediately he felt an ache that hummed into a blissful, silent moan of release. His still rigid cock, filled with memories of that last night with his former lover, erupted in a sticky mess inside his trousers. 

Dahlia licked her lips and let out a sad little gasp, but Nathanial didn’t notice it. His eyes were closed as his body quivered, “How does that help me?” 

“Open your eyes Nathanial, open your eyes and find yourself staring at me. You body is in a state of calm, your mind is clear after release, you feel weak, you feel soft and open, and as you drink this water, you will feel refreshed, restored, drink now.” 

His eyes opened and he looked upon her smiling face as she gave him the last of the water. “It is only

water, as my voice is only words, but words can change a mind as surely as water can quench a thirst. Look upon me, look upon my breasts, watch them and feel the way your body responds to me, the way it grows in strength and need, listen and watch, become aware of the potent effect of my nectar, the way it strengthens your lust and stirs your blood. Watch my breasts and absorb my words as you would water. Watch them now as they sway before your eyes.” 

Nathanial felt a heat inside himself, like the ineffectual desire to fuck after having too much to drink, and he would not have allowed himself to be lulled into the swaying patter of her words had she not slid his knife back into its sheath and secured it there as she spoke. 

“Your mind has been lost in dreams and traps, like a mirror facing a mirror, your mind has gone inwards over and over, like the roundness of my breasts, circles without end, always showing you more, always wanting more, the way our nectar drives the body to give as we take, but as I give my words to you, your mind drinks them in as your eyes do my beauty, my breasts, soft, warm, safe, it is safe to listen, to lose yourself in the mirror of my voice, telling you your desires as they show you your wants.” 

Nathanial’s mind was wandering now, from breast to breast and word to word, and Dahlia’s voice was becoming a maze of contradictions, “As much as you have been lulled into staying, your only want is to leave, to flee, to go from this false home to real safety, where danger lies in the curve of my breast, temptation promises true happiness in my voice, and words upon words are abound in your eyes, as you listen to the sight of me now, seeing and hearing all that I speak, enspelled by nothing, by the sight of words. Listen as you stare, and become only what you see and hear now.” 

He felt distant, but content, confused but certain, more focused than he had ever been in his life, and more relaxed than he could ever have been simply left to himself, “Your lust is only strength and passion, a fire that flames inside you, as one thing but another, and fire consumes, fire must be fed. Feed your lust into the flame of life, look upon my breasts and feel their seductive spell pulsing first between your legs, and then, feel that passion become your strength now. Nourish your body and mind with the desire I give you, taste not the need to release, to nourish me, but feel it now nourishing yourself. The fullness of my breasts becomes the fullness of your strength, single minded, ready to stand, to act to follow, to carry you home, away, to entrap you in your rightful freedom.” 

Her hands cupped and squeezed her pert, large breasts, small compared to her sisters but massive compared to any human woman’s he had seen, and much like a dancer follows the music, or a puppet moves to its own strings, her breasts made him rise to his feet, and filled Nathanial with a sense of strength and purpose that… 

Chapter 7: Coins 

“Eeels, there’s a good lad, come in, come in quick. You look like shit.” 

Thaddeus had his pudgy arm under Nathanial as soon as he stepped through the curtain into the bar. “I… I don’t, I… water…” His mind was a blur. The last thing he remembered was Tobin hitting him in the face with that stupid fucking pole he carried around. 

“You look terrible.” The old drunk smelled of sweet drink, and sour breath, and ushered him into the back room of the empty bar. It was just after dawn, and the world was quiet, as quiet as this part of Four Towns ever got.

“Did you do it? Did you make it to the Manor?” A plaster mug of tepid water was placed in Nathanial’s scraped and dirty hands. 

He didn’t answer, he just drank, he drank with a thirst unknown to him, and need that was beyond reason. 

“Do,” he gasped out a breath, “do what?” 

“Find any treasure. Survive the Manor. Did you do anything?” Thaddeus’s words made no sense to him, but something unknown, some phantom recollection told Nathanial to check his hidden inner pouch. “I,” he was as shocked as the bar keep at the sight of ten golden coins in his hand. “I suppose I…” Fingers moved through dust and leaves, through time and history, searching where his eyes would find nothing. There were five coins on the dresser… only five… and now… 

“You alright lad, you look, well you look touched.” The drink that Thaddeus poured him now was not water, though it was clear. “Sip this slow, slow till it’s all gone.” 

The alcohol burnt his throat and stung his nose, but the sharp tactile sensation of the drink brought him back to the moment. “Looks like I found something, but I don’t know where, and I don’t know how.” “Could be when you got hit in the head the other day it was worse than we thought. Could be you saw something that frightened the memory from you. Could be you got magic’ed into this state, but you ask me, looks like it doesn’t matter much if this is the end result, huh?” The former surgeon gave Nathanial a clap on the back before pouring him more water. 

“I suppose you’re right. And I suppose I owe you a bit, so I hate to ask but…” 

“You’ve got the coin, you’ve got to go settle up, but you think Tobin, or someone else’ll be circling you.” He nodded. 

“Way I see it, you’ve said out loud that you’re on guild business, so for the sake of our fine institution I’ll put an escort together for you to settle your scores. You know, for one of those coins.” Nathanial slid over two, “Thank you. Now, you mind if I take a nap in your closet?” 

“This is why you’re in the shape you’re in, too kind, too giving, and too predictable. Doing the same thing all over again.” 

Nathanial filled his cup again, dragged himself into the closet, pulled down a stale loaf of bread, and before he had three bites, was out cold, dreaming of a blue haired, green skinned girl’s large, bouncing breasts. 

Chapter 7: Settling Accounts 

 “You have to understand my hesitation Nathanial, you’ve gone from nothing to handing me gold. Am I to expect you didn’t break any of the bylaws to get me this?” The Guild Master sat on a high backed chair, dressed in a thick shirt of course fabric, the top of his head covered in a brown skullcap, his weathered face, craggy with more experience than age, was all but expressionless. 

Except for his eyes, which were narrow, near black in their shade of brown, and sharp with wary curiosity. 

“No, I, well sir, I feel if I tell you where I made my score you’d think I was lying to you.” Nathanial’s relationship with the Guild Master had always been a pleasant one, as friendly as it could be when one of them didn’t know the other’s name. 

“Try me.” The Guild Master’s mask of impassive judgment broke into genuine amusement.

“I snuck into Courles Manor and I, um, I sort of scrounged a few coins before I guess, I guess you’d say, before I ran away?” Nathanial’s shrug was subconscious, a reflection of his own memories feeling so unsure of what had befallen him there. 

“You’re a fucking liar Eels,” Tobin had been there, in the back of the room, “where’d you get the fucking gold!” 

The Guild Master held up his hand but did not break his gaze from Nathanial, “Were you asking me what you did? Or are you not sure you believe it yourself?” 

Nathanial felt Tobin staring a bloody hole in the back of his head, “My memory’s been a little fuzzy since someone hit me in the face with a stick.” 

It was true, but not so much in this context. 

“Bullshit! Who gave you the gold you fucking…” He could almost smell Tobin’s breath, could almost feel the heat of his hate, like they were standing in front of each other. 

“Tobin, please, these coins are old, they’re collector’s items as much as they’re money. If anyone had lost anything from their collection, I’d have heard of it, and if some outside agency were operating here and trading with such exotic fare, they’d be known to me as well. So, unless you have a real challenge to your guild brother, I’ll ask you to hold your tongue. Or, you could leave.” 

The Guild Master’s smile had become sharp, losing all trace of amusement, and as he’d addressed Tobin, the man did not look away from Nathanial, who didn’t feel much better when the door slammed shut.  “I know what he’s been up to, preying on you as he has. I invited him here for this meeting in case, well, in case you turned out to be less than honest in your intentions, or your stories. But here we are, welcome back to the fold.” 

The sense of relief Nathanial had hoped to feel in this moment wasn’t there, “Thank you. I, uh…” and the sense of dread that was there instead made what he was about to say all the more difficult and terrifying, “I’m still trying to get out of the life, to earn enough to move on.” 

The Guild Master nodded, passive, listening. 

“And I think I have a score. I want to go back to the manor, I found ten gold laying around, and I made it out alive.” Like his quip about being hit with a stick and having memory problems, what he’d just said wasn’t entirely true either. 

“That’s far, far outside our territory, and I’m not approving you taking any other members out, but,” the older man’s voice became a touch warmer and less measured, “I will miss you when you fail and die out in the woods, or succeed and go back to cobbling, or masonry, or whatever it was you did.”  “Weaver, I was a waver,” it was why his fingers were so nimble, and why he was so good at seeing the big picture. “And I don’t need bodies, I’d never ask; I know I wouldn’t be able to trust anyone who went with me either. I was just, well, I’d like to use the library, if that…” 

The Guild Master’s laughter was sharper than Tobin’s anger had been, “It’s a guild resource, you don’t have to ask me. Gods Nathanial, maybe you’re so squirrelly because you were hit in the head, and not just a half shitty liar.” 

The laughter stopped as Nathanial realized he was sweating, 

“Whatever you’re not telling me, as long as it won’t put my guild in danger, is your fucking business, your foolish, desperate business, do you understand me?”

Nathanial nodded. 

“You’re a great hand with a lot of hard work, and you’ve made more enemies than you realize, because you don’t understand jealousy. You’re safer in guild territory, but watch you back, because hate can lead a man to abandon his senses and throw his world away, do you understand me?” 

Again he nodded, “Tobin’s going to try and kill me?” 

The Guild Master said nothing; the meeting and the reconciliation were over. 

Chapter 8: Tales 

 The Alraune, or Flora Fatale, or Demi Dryad, has the female form of a woman from approximately the waist… Okay this was looking promising… capable of releasing an irresistible scent that clouds the mind, and a nectar secreted from the breasts, or the mouth that causes the male to become more virile and to overproduce… That also sounded right… control over natural plant life… feeds on essence, also draws nourishment from the sun and the soil… this was what they were… able to move along vines and root systems in their lairs, with all semblance of legs being purely to fool the eye of human prey… also called the ‘Succubus Flower’ used to harness male sexual fluids… some are skilled in the mystical arts… 

 The artist’s renderings in The Book of Beasts weren’t too close to what he’d seen, not for these things or any of the other monsters he’d caught a glimpse of here and there, but there weren’t far away either. He put down the manual of monsters, it having been the third bestiary he’d thumbed through, and turned his attention to the local lore. 

One tome mentioned Courles Manor as the sight of a brutal slaughter during the Days of Blood when the Empire fell and Four Towns truly regained its independence, but even that book described it as a haunted place, long free of human residence, and swallowed up by the forest in its words …more akin to the lost towns and hamlets of the Elder Woods to the west, consumed by the Queens of the Forest and the enchanting lure of their Siren Blooms, known in the old language as Alraune … 

 This led to him reading about the forest, and how it once stretched from coats to coast, and only after the Catastrophe of Fates, which led to the rise of the Empire, were large swaths of the Elder Woods cleared to make way for new roads and towns. The forest was attacked, the book said, as though it were a wicked enemy, and much as the mystic arts of nature were seen as the enemy, so too was the forest itself.  That, in turn, led Nathanial to look into the history of natural magic, but the only texts he discovered were scribed in the time of the Empire, where all magic save their ridged academia was seen as evil and forbidden. 

As he flipped through page after page of tight, narrow script in one such book, one that seemed to be from the time of Catastrophe based on what little he’d gleamed, one word caught his eye: Courles. 

A family of oath breakers, practiced in the base and evil arts of lunar, vitae, and earthen arcana, the patron of the family was found guilty of treasons acts, as was the matron. The three daughters were, when their manor and surrounding hamlet and lands were set to the torch, unaccounted for. 

The manor, being of stone, and surpassingly well constructed, repelled the flame to a great degree, though the same cannot be said for those who sought to defend it. Under rigorous interrogation, those prisoners who claimed loyalty to the family swore oaths that the sisters had vanished by means of their accursed arts, having

become one with the forest. 

Further investigation of the manor and its grounds were deemed too risky, when one party of soldiers was lost within the woods to forces unknown, this being the time of the Goblins and their rise in arms and numbers from the underground and the sea… 

As had been the case for most of his life, reading had only left him more baffled than before he’d begun, and though he’d been at for several days, it wasn’t a waste. 

Before they became flower girls, they’d been a rich and landed family, nobility or of noble lineage, who’d been ousted at the rise of the Empire. More than a few operations into the ruins that he’d heard of were based on just such stories. 

Sometimes it was to find a family sword, or a secret spell book of secrets, but usually it was just… He bumped into someone as he walked out of the library, and instantly his guts turned to ice water, and he jumped backwards. 

“Ho there friends, sorry about that.” The man speaking to him was most decidedly not Tobin or one of his gang. He was taller than Nathanial, and thicker too across the shoulders and the neck. The man also walked armed, and not just with a dagger, but with a long sword at his hip, and armor under his plain brown tunic. 

“It’s uh, quite alright, sorry.” Nathanial made to leave, but stopped himself, “who are you?” He didn’t know this man, and the guild’s library was not open to the public. 

The stranger’s smile was fixed, and that made Nathanial feel even more uncomfortable. It wasn’t the smile of an idiot, or of a bully, it was one of confidence, that promised easy violence if needed, “My name’s Daro, and I’ve permission from who I’m assuming is your Guild Master to search and acquire a few texts here. You’re walking out, I’m walking in, I bet you know a bit more about what I need and where I should look than I, eh?” 

The man clapped him on the shoulder, then produced a few silver pieces in his other hand, “I’m in a fuck of a hurry to be honest, you’re the only person I’ve seen in this part of town that I haven’t had to consider chopping in half.” 

Nathanial let out a sigh, he could relate. “What are you looking for?” 

“Anything and everything on Succubi.” 

Nathanial laughed, “You know, I know just where to look.” 

Perhaps being close to a good natured and heavily armed warrior would keep him safe for the next few hours. 

Chapter 9: Back to the Manor 

‘Douse your mask in watered down wine and don’t rub your eyes’ had been Daro’s advice for dealing with plant monsters. 

The man had traveled many places, and was even something of an accidental hero on occasion, and Nathanial’s hope was that what worked against sentient mushrooms would also against Alraune pollen. Nathanial hadn’t been forthcoming about why he was asking, and he didn’t tell anyone where he was planning on going, not even Thaddeus. Instead, over several days after visiting the library, he gathered supplies, then slipped off into the woods at first light. 

Now that he knew roughly where he was going, he no longer needed a guide, and while his memory had

been muddled, the more he thought about Dahlia, the more he found himself obsessing over her, the sharper and more clear him mind became. 

It seemed counter to what she’d wanted, he could almost hear her voice, telling him to lose his way back to her as he made his way home, but her beauty, and her kindness to him had become a beacon in the confused fog that was his time at the manor. And now, knowing that, maybe she and her sisters had been done a great wrong long ago, perhaps if he could reach her, to speak with her again, he could make a peace with them, perhaps find a way to help them. 

Or see of he could appeal to them for their kindness. 

Provided they didn’t drain him like a ripe fruit squeezed for juice. 

These were romantic notions to be sure, noble and foolish gestures that Nathanial knew were certainly enhanced by his experiences with the two sisters he’d met, but barring uncharacteristic gallantry on his part, if he was careful and more quick to act, then, he might be able to gather more treasure, maybe even the great and mighty ‘enough to retire on’ score and then be done with all of it. 

It was stupid. 

It was dangerous. 

It was still necessary, because the Guild Master had told him Tobin was going to murder him, given enough time, confirming something he already knew deep down in his gut. 

So, as he came to the edges of the clearing where the manor stood, he retrieved his mask from his pack, and a bladder of watered down red wine. 

The air had already become sweet, and it was effecting him faster than it had before. Little glimpses of memory were flashing in his mind, and his body felt its effects too. The dull ache of arousal was starting to form in him, and he did everything he could to ignore it. 

The mask wasn’t much, it was just cloth and fasteners, nothing more than what any common bandit would wear, but it was the best he could manage. He’d tried out an alchemist’s hood, but he couldn’t breathe at all in it, and the goggles made it impossible to see anything that wasn’t straight in front of him. So, this was it. 

In addition to his knife, he’d also brought a few clay balls of acid that were good for throwing, and less good for smashing against something. The acid would eat through flesh, but was more potent against plant life, which was why he’d selected them, not to throw at anyone, but to use in case the vines came after him again. 

There were other things in his pack as well, mostly more practical tools of the trade. A wire saw, lock picks, a small vile of oil, and a small packet of bakers flour; each were avaluable for a multitude of uses. So too were the candle, the very sharp scissors, and the small flint and steel lighting device that he always kept in there. 

Anything else, like the alchemist’s hood, would only slow him down. 

Nathanial’s skin was tingling as he made his way to the tree line and looked out at the tower. The entrance he’d used before was there, plain as day, but he didn’t trust it, he didn’t trust Lilyana, the one who’d captured him, not to expect him or anyone to see such an easy path and take it. 

This time, as he made his way closer, he skirted the tree line towards the grown over fountain, and saw something he’d missed before. There was a small, tumbled down awning, like the roof a porch, and under its remains was a cellar door.

The book said that the creatures took sustenance from the soil, but also that they needed sunlight. Though he didn’t know what the book was supposing and what it actually knew, he knew flowers didn’t bloom where the sun didn’t shine, so it seemed worth the incredibly foolish risk. 

With ginger steps, he crossed the short distance from the woods to the manor, and his eyes watched the grass and the brush the way one watched a snake that was about to strike. 

After a brief glance about himself, he knelt down and tried the door, not daring to breathe, trying to will the old hinges to be silent. For the most part, they were, and opened with only a hint of a creak and a shudder. Nathanial couldn’t smell anything through his mask, but as he stepped down onto the stone steps, he felt the air around him change. 

It was damp down there, humid, and the floor under foot was covered in loam. It was also not terribly dark, as lines of sunlight flittered in through holes in the walls and the ceiling above. Near the room’s other doorway, there were chests, and cabinets against the far wall, including one that had once been for wine, but there was no trace of any bottles. With the greatest of care, Nathanial reached back and closed the door behind him, all before making his way down the stairs to cross the room. He would have gone for the chests had he not seen what was in the next room. There, in the middle of the floor, one that was crisscrossed in thick green vines, was a pool of crystal blue water about three strides wide, and from what he could see through the doorway, the walls were covered in tapestries that hadn’t faired any better than those in the tower, but unlike those walls, this room also seemed adorned with golden candle holders. 

If none of the sisters were in the room he could move, grab them off the wall and run. Yes he wanted to see Dahlia again, to speak to her, to try and befriend her perhaps, but what he wanted even more was to leave his life behind, get on a boat and just start over again. 

There was a lot of gold on those walls, and he made his way to the edge of the doorway. The room was darker, but the still waters of the pool emanated their own soft light, as though each drop within held a little touch of the sun’s glow. The room was empty, and so he stepped inside and made for the first candlestick. Then he stopped. 

The reflection in the pool was him, but it wasn’t his reflection. He was seeing himself through the eye of someone that was… 

Chapter 10: The Middle Sister 

“Hello human, welcome to my chambers, it’s been too long since I’ve had a guest.” From some collapsed in corner of the ceiling came a flower pod of pale violet, lowered by vines think as a warrior’s calf, and rising up from the center of the flower was what Nathanial assumed was the third sister. 

Her hair was red, almost a pastel red in places, and up in pigtails, bound with deep purple roses as ribbons, and while her breasts were not as massive as the one who had enslaved him, they were larger than those of the one he’d been so drawn to. 

Like her sisters, her arms were covered in white gloves, but her skin was a more pale green, and her red eyes flickered as though they couldn’t decide what shade they wanted to be. And as they danced and shimmered, glowing with the invitation to take a closer look, something moved at Nathanial’s side, and the spell was broken.

“I’m sorry to sneak in like this, but having met your sister, I was trying to avoid her. I don’t think I made the most polite exit last time.” He knew there were vines under the earth behind him, he’d felt them moving as soon as he’d seen one of the ones under his feet start to rise up. 

Maybe he could run back, maybe he could run forward, and maybe, just maybe this time, without being affected by their pollen, he could work his way out of it, just as long as he didn’t look into this one’s eyes. Sorcery as common as that was easy to avoid with a little bit of common sense. 

“Oh, it’s you. You’ve made quite an impression on this house, and both of my sisters had much to say about you. Sweet Dahlia took quite a tongue lashing for your sake. Lilyana said you were quite the… now you’ll have to excuse me… you were quite the taste.” 

Nathanial watched her shoulders and her chest, but not too closely. 

“I’m afraid I wasn’t ready to take up permanent residence here, not matter how long or short my stay would have been.” Maybe, just maybe he could whip an acid ball into her face if push came to shove, but he hoped it wouldn’t. 

“I can’t say I blame you, it’s hard being here with both of them. One’s so overbearing, and the other’s so miserable and boring. All these years and she still hasn’t managed to grow up. But, I suppose you’ve come back for more treasure?” 

Whatever the situation was, she wasn’t making any overt moves towards him, and that was becoming unnerving in its own wholly terrifying way. “Would you believe I’ve come back for that yes, but also out of friendship?” 

“I would,” the middle sister, because clearly that’s what she was, let out a derisive chuckle. “But you’ll not find the friendship you seek with my little sister. She’s neither as sweet and merciful as she wants herself to be, nor would she permit you any real affection. She saved you, but only because she fancies herself tender, though there is less humanity remaining in her than either of us.” 

“I see. Well, if that’s true then, I suppose I could implore you to let me depart, and not tell your older sister I’m about?” This one’s words were so candid they had become menacing. 

“I could, but you would wound me in leaving me so, without a proper introduction, or a chance to consider for myself if we couldn’t become fast friends. My name Camellia Courles, and you must be Nathanial the Thief.” 

When she spoke his name, the air around her shimmered as her eyes did, and he felt a pressure in his chest that stole his ability to move. The feeling faded with the same immediacy it had come, but the sensation after the fact felt even worse than the moment. 

“Do you know what the worst part of living here is Nathanial? Maybe you do since you’re the lowborn criminal type that ends up in dungeons. It’s that nothing changes. My sisters are the same, these grounds are the same, and the fools that wander into our lair, to be drained, and broken, or sent back to their lands with all of their thoughts ripped from heir heads, replaced with stories of treasure to entice the next batch of fools, truthfully, they’re all the same too. And while it’s been so very long since I’ve had legs to walk about on, I remember life, I remember the vibrant excitement of the world outside, and it’s all the worse since I’ve learned how to spy upon it with my pool.” 

Camellia had moved closer to him now, and reached out her hand to him, “The other two refuse to come down here to observe what I can do, and no matter how often I used to ask them if they wanted to study and

practice our old arts, they always refuse. Dahlia’s too busy being blue, and Lilyana’s too busy chiding her, and then wasting her time arranging flowers and trying to teach birds to sing proper songs.” “Don’t be a cowards Nathanial, I just showed you a taste of what I can do with a glance, or with a few words, and unlike one sister who would coddle you into an empty husk, or the other one who would sadly, and desperately drain the life from you with a long kiss full of guilt and self pity, I don’t toy about. If I wanted you, I’d have you by now.” 

That wasn’t reassuring in the least, but he took her hand anyway. 

“You’re a thief I know, but you call yourself a treasure hunter, why?” 

“Because I don’t like to steal from the living, or take from those who need it, or should have it. I try and be respectful in my crimes.” They were at the edge of the pool now. 

“So you’re a high minded lout, I can respect that. Are you any good at what you do?” The scorn in her voice didn’t seem as menacing anymore; it had become more conversational, more curious. “I was. I’ve had a run of bad luck, and well, I’ve tried to rob this place twice to no avail.” If she was tired of the sameness of her life here, maybe entertaining her would serve as his means of escape. “I see. You’re also not very bright, you know. You barely made it out of here with your life, and you came back for what? To try and court my sister while harvesting our spare coin? You must know, I should hope you’d know, just saying that out loud almost makes me pity you.” 

“As I said, I’ve had a run of bad luck. And said aloud, yes, I do sound like a dolt. I’ve been feeling like one for a while.” She was crueler than any blow from Tobin, but he had the sense that she wanted something. “That aside, what do you want me to steal for you?” 

“Oh ho, he’s not such a fool after all. Look into the pool and I’ll show you.” 

They were still holding hands, and with her free one, she waved it over the water and it began to change color and shape, swirling to life before his eyes. 

“This is the Amulet of the Three Unseen Moons, it is an ancient relic from… from my time as a human. It is full of secrets lost to the wizards, as they’ve lost the teachings to use it, and know not what it is and what it does. A man in your lands owns it, and I desire it. You will bring this to me.” 

The pool’s swirling images showed him where it was, what it looked like, and even the face of the man who owned it. He wasn’t rich enough to be protected from the Thieves Guild, and he lived in the wrong part of Gold Town to be a person of relevant importance. He was just someone with some money, and that made him a fair target. 

It was amazing to him the way his mind absorbed all it saw, and reconciled all of the information it was given. He was starting to plan how to do this job, a seemingly easy one at that… then his wits caught up to her spell. 

“And then, when I bring it back to you, you’ll?” He let go of her hand, stepped away from her, and from the pool. In doing so, he made a point to look past her. He was finally in a position of some leverage. “Well, what would you like me to do Nathanial? You seemed to have liked my sisters in certain ways, while they deceived you, but what of me? What of honest, neglected, middle daughter Camellia? Never sought, and never craved? What would you like of me Nathanial, besides your life?” 

“That’s what I’m afraid of. I know how useful I am, and where that use ends, it’s part of the world I live in. Why would I risk my life for you, only to forfeit it once I bring you your prize?”

Maybe this would help him negotiate himself into a better position, maybe… 

“Because despite yourself,” her voice dropped into a lower, softer tone, “you truly want to help me.” She moved closer to him and once more took his hand. As her hand touched his, Nathanial felt a force in his chest, much like what he’d felt when she spoke his name the first time, only this time it was pulling at him. It made his cock stiffen so fast his head swam. 

He was losing something to her, something she was draining from him, and in his temporarily shocked state, Camellia reached out and ripped the mask from his face, then pressed her hand against his cheek and stunned him once again. 

His hips rocked and he felt an orgasm building from deep inside. It felt more than physical, it felt like a part of him was aching to be taken by her. 

The draining, pulling sensation made him gasp, and as he did, he inhaled the now sweet tasting, seductively fragrantly air. Nathanial’s head spun faster as he staggered backwards, only to look up at her and see her blowing something out of her hand and towards his face. 

The world swam as he inhaled a potent dose of her pheromone laced pollen, and it hit him as hard as any of her other tricks had. He came, his whole body came. 

Then, everything became quiet, and warm, and soft, and he took a step towards her, even before the voice of his free will, still strong and still present, stopped him. She’d one what the book had said, she’d started to feed on his essence, and knowing that, knowing what she was, gave him some resolve. 

“You know, Nathanial, my sisters are both too much. They’ve always been too much for anyone, and I’m always overlooked. Even though I’m just like in the story books.” Camellia’s voice stayed in that same soft register, and she’d moved her hands to her breasts. 

“You’ll never taste Dahlia’s nectar, not more than those few drops she gave you, and Lilyana’s is too sweet and too overbearing just like her, but you wanted them both, not realizing that I’m the one that’s just right for you, just like that little gift I gave you now. I’m so much more, you want to taste me, even though I’m not your first choice, and you feel guilty about that. Poor, rude, guilty Nathanial, come and be polite, come and have a taste of me, so I can make you feel even more pleasure.” 

“No, you’re not, you’re not going to take me.” He blinked, and blinked, and thought he was walking backwards, but realized he’d slipped into a daydream while standing still. Now one hand was going towards his knife, and the other to his acid balls, but it was hard to tell if his mind had stayed clear and present, or had fallen back into daydreams. 

It was her turn to blink at him, and this time he couldn’t help but take in the scintillating shades of red. “I’m not going to take from you, you poor fool, I’m offering myself to you, look at me, look at what I’m doing.” Her hands were under her breasts, lifting them slightly, and with every necessary breath that Nathanial took, he was becoming more intoxicated by her, and more distant from the realities of his body’s responses. He’d thought he’d drawn his tools several times, but the truth was, he’d started to watch her breasts, just as he had her sisters’, and when that thought came around, he decided to look away from her again. But now, all he could do was stare as Camellia’s very large breasts, ones too big for a human woman’s, but not yet the size of Lilyana’s. He stared as she rolled and massaged them. “Come to me, remember how good she tasted, I’m the better, the softer, my sweetness is what you desire, look at me, Dahlia told me how she transfixed you, and my breasts are even larger than hers, but not too big not like Liyana’s, no, my breasts

are just right for you, just the right size for your eyes to see them, and only them now, see what you want, see what you desire.” 

She pinched a nipple and a few drops of nectar stuck to her finger, “You loved their tastes, not knowing what you were missing, remember. You can come and taste, come and have as much as you crave, you know I need you for more than your seed, you know I need you for more than your essence, just like you need to taste me for more than my own commands, you need to taste me because you want me so. You want me Nathanial, you want to come and suckle on my breasts, to cherish me in ways my sisters would deny you, to show your friendship to one who won’t consume you.” 

Memory became a cruel mistress in that moment, as her lilting voice beckoned him to recall the pleasures that had been forced upon him, ones his body and mind bent to, and came to crave in those moments. He felt the lingering glow of the orgasm she’d just caused in him, and Nathanial spiraled further into her trap. 

His arm moved, only it was away from his knife and not closer, and when it did, it sent a jolt through him, like when the body spasms while falling asleep. 

“This is no friendship,” the words were heavy in his mouth, swollen and misshapen on his tongue, but he meant them. He also meant to look away from her chest, but his eyes were less obedient than his voice. “And you would come to steal from my family, while offering your comradery, so perhaps you shouldn’t trust your own mind to rightness thief, and instead, trust in the treasures before you, sweet and warm, awaiting your lips and your touch, tempting you more than gold, promising more than jewels, watch what you truly desire, and remember the bliss of what those lesser creatures tasted of. Remember the blissful gift of pleasure I’ve already shared with you.” 

His thoughts were so soft now that a strong breeze would have twisted them in the same way she bent the images in her scrying pool, and once more, her words returned the cloying memories of sweetness and pleasure to him. 

She was close now, and his eyes were down, lost in the valley of her cleavage. He was dazed, drugged, and overwhelmed by the weight of her voice. Nathanial didn’t realize it, but where her sisters had entranced him, she had merely distracted him, and hid the words of power she was using to compel him. 

It was magic disguised as seduction disguised as a different kind of magic, aided by her practice in cultivating powerful doses of her pheromone pollen, and when she stuck her finger in his mouth, he sucked the nectar off of it readily enough. 

Light and heat exploded in his body, and Nathanial let out a whimper as she gently led him back to the pool and turned him to face it. “Look into the waters and listen now Nathanial, listen to what you must do for me.” 

He watched himself in the water, his lips sucking on Camellia’s massive tits, her fingers in his hair, a happy smile on his face. There was gold all around him, bags of coins for him to take wherever he pleased, and as he watched the image of her, he saw that she was a human again, beautiful, buxom, and impossibly stunning, fucking him on a heap of coins. 

His cock throbbed in his breaches , cumming again at her command. 

He could feel this pleasure all the time, he would feel this pleasure all the time. 

All Nathanial had to do was bring her the amulet.

Chapter 11: Tobin 

 The sun was sinking past its noonday pinnacle when Nathanial finally emerged from the cellar of that old, run down manor. In all the time that Tobin sat in the shadows and the brush staring at that plant covered dilapidated heap, not once did he see a ghost, or a fiend, or any other gruesome danger. Instead, what he saw was a shitty old building with a lot of bad stories; the kind of hideout he would pick if he were trying to avoid detection. 

The one good side of sitting out in the wild all day, after following Eels out here, just like he’d followed that son of a bitch everywhere else since he got back, was that it was a nice summer day and it smelled kind of nice too. 

Eels was an idiot, an actual idiot. 

For one thing, as a career criminal he lacked a few basic skills. One, which had served Tobin well the past few days, was his inability to spot a tail. The other, 

which had served Tobin even longer, was Eels’ belief in his ability to get out of things. If he couldn’t run away, he’d try and talk his way out. If he couldn’t talk his way out, he’d try harder to run, and all that idiocy came from trust. Eels wanted to trust people, he wanted to see the situation as better than it was, and that was because he was an idiot and a fool. 

Tobin could close on him now, though the fool’s pace had quickened considerably. He could close on his old partner, find out the truth, and then slit his throat out in the middle of nowhere. But that was short-term thinking, and short-term thinking hadn’t served Tobin so well as of late. 

Besides, the Guild Master had made it clear, it the fool stepped out of line or broke the rules of the guild he was fair game, otherwise he wasn’t to be harmed, with the very clear implication that this expectation extended to outside of Four Towns as well. 

So, Tobin had followed him into the woods, just like he’d followed him to the library, and to the shops, and back to that shack Thaddeus ran. Tobin had watched Eels’ rendezvous with that swordsman, and he’d watched the two of them leave the library together, share drinks and a meal, then go their separate ways. 

He hadn’t tried to get too close, because he wasn’t an idiot, but there was something in the works with the two of them. Eels was working with outside forces, and that guy, who’d somehow been given permission to go into the library, was his connection. 

Tobin had never been inside that building, mainly because he didn’t know how to read. It was hard work matching Eels’ pace now. He hadn’t slowed down, he hadn’t stopped, whatever he was involved in had lit a fire in that idiot that Tobin had never seen before. 

When they finally reached the edge of the city, Tobin followed him back to Thaddeus’ place. From there, Tobin set a watch on the building, while he took a nap in one of the vacant structures across the way. Early in the evening it was Chandra who woke him. 

“Is he still there?” Tobin’s eyes opened, and his mind snapped into its single-minded focus. “No, he’s gone a few blocks down, buying more supplies. What did he do, what’d you learn?” Chandra was covered in a short black cloak; her blonde hair was shaved down to its customary stubble. She was lithe, lean, and everything she did was fast. It was a speed that came from being smooth, and that smoothness came from slow, methodical practice.

“He went back into the woods, back to that manor, then after a good few hours he hauled his ass back here. You see what he was buying?” 

“Buckets said he’d gotten a good length of rope, and some new gloves,” she was interrupted by a knock on the door. 

“He’s on the move, he’s got his gear bag and it looks like he’s heading to Gold Town, Lug’s on his trail.” Buckets had stepped into the small room, and threw Tobin a thick belt wrapped around a short, broad saber. Chandra shook her head, ‘What’s that for?” 

“He’s going to go do a job for his new friends, so we’re going to go take care of his friends and give him a surprise when he gets there.” 

He watched Chandra nodding along. She wasn’t the sympathetic type, but the most cold-blooded of killers could still be bound by the past, “That going to be a problem for you?” 

“Fuck him, I’ll do it myself if it comes up.” She spat towards the corner of the room. 

“Oh, it’ll fucking come up.”