POP! Fzzz… zzz—pow!

  “Whoo!” Jax slapped her thighs at the sudden fireworks. Then, once the violence had died down, she approached the cage and gave it a cautious tap. Nothing. “Ye was right, Master! T’were water, after all. How’d ye know what that rutting mess were on about?”

  I shrugged. “Educated guess. The cage was electrified. The poem said to drown the spark…”

  Also, my first attempt at inserting the Key had left me badly scalded. So there was that.

  Lynnria fidgeted nervously off to one side. “Are you sure this is a good idea, Donum? The Demon Queen said—”

  “Do nay flap!” Jax barked before tilting her nose imperiously into the air. “Fekinell be me proper Servant. She’d nay sooner turn on us than I would me own master, and she can scarce look at him! Don’t care what no Queen’s got to say.”

  “But we barely know her, Jax!” Lynnria persisted. “I get that the Shepherdess… messed with her head somehow, but that doesn’t mean we can just take her loyalty for granted. Xhinn had to have had a reason to put her in there.”

  “Oh, she had a reason,” Mia, now enrobed, chimed in. “But then, our kindred is hardly an unbiased source.”

  On that, I wholeheartedly agreed. She responded with twisted, double meanings, half-truths, and vague, non-answers to even the most innocent of questions. With a known motivation, everything out of the Demon Queen’s mouth should be taken with a heaping tablespoon of salt. Unfortunately, the argument was a wash. No matter what side we came down on, it would only lead to regret, so I had fallen back on my policy to give people—in this case, Fekinell—the benefit of the doubt and hope she would at least have the grace not to stab me in the back with it.

  Still, it was kind of weird seeing Mia up and about again. After she had fled back to my mind, her body had flopped lifelessly to the bed, where it had remained, unmoving and breathless, until Mia had reanimated it. But for however corpse-like the thing had appeared, it had not been dead. It had not paled. Rigor mortis had not set in. There was no discoloration or smell. The rabbit-eared, jackalope girl had simply… stopped—a marionette with its strings cut.

  Just like a construct. Hmm.

  By contrast, Fekinell was looking extremely dead.

  I tapped at the cage with some concern. “I don’t know if we’ll need to worry about it, Lynnria. We may have waited too long.”

  “She’s alive,” Jax assured me confidently. Then, to herself, “Be looking awful peely wally, though. Yer sure that fountain water were still fresh?”

  “Quite sure,” Mia replied. Then her head jerked, and she added, “Fuck me! I’m wet!”

  I quirked an eyebrow at the diminutive Dolilim, but she refused to meet my eyes.

  “Huh.” Jax sniffed. “Ye’d have thought she’d’ve perked up a bit, then. Ye’d make a mint selling that shite at the pub.”

  “I doubt normal people would appreciate being served water laced with our combined ejaculate, Jax,” I countered dryly.

  She just looked at me. “Not with that attitude.”

  “Is that what was in the water?” Lynnria seemed surprised. “I thought it smelled nice. Is there any left?”

  Mia handed the carafe over without comment—as best she could—and Lynnria spent the next few seconds gleefully draining the thing dry.

  Good grief, we’re a bunch of sluts. Not that this was some grand revelation; it was just that the last few days had seen a certain loosening of inhibitions that would need to be curtailed should we return to civilization. They would ride us out on the rails!

  Again.

  Of course, it had not escaped my notice that Lynnria had completely overlooked a certain co-mingling adjective. Nor would I point it out. She looked so happy!

  “Alright.” I rolled my shoulders, feeling suddenly nervous for some reason. “You’d better be right about this, Jax. I’d hate to waste a Key.”

  “Told ye once, did I nay? I can feel her hunger. Dead things ain’t worried about untwistifying their stomachs.”

  Nodding, I considered the gleaming red gemstone for another handful of seconds before swallowing down my nerves, but just before I was about to insert it into the lock, Fekinell’s eyes snapped open—startling me about half to death.

  “Wait.” Her voice was dry, raspy, as though the mere act of speaking had cost her. She attempted to work some moisture onto her tongue, but it was fruitless. “Meat.”

  “Meat?” I drew in a breath to steady myself. “Wait, you were conscious? How long have you been listening?”

  ‘Conscious’ might have been a stretch. She did not appear to register the question.

  “Fresh meat… raw… meat.” Her eyes found mine. The silver within them was now so intense, you could scarcely see anything but the glow. Yet she was quick to avert her gaze—as though my eyes were the ones causing discomfort. “Have… have meat?”

  “Not… really?” I replied.

  She should have been looking for water, not food. And raw meat? That’s definitely some werewolf shit. I almost had myself convinced, except I had never heard of a werewolf with the presence of mind to ask for what it craved. That curse was all about ego death—whatever was left took what it wanted. As violently as possible.

  “We don’t keep food around.”

  “There’s that mess of ‘pprentices, Master,” Jax reminded me. “They’s scrawny blighters and a bastard to catch, but ye could eat ‘em in a pinch.”

  Ell made a pained sound in her throat. “…pren…tice…”

  “Yeah, little furry monsters with big floppy ears? They jump around trying to behead you?” I explained. “I call them vorpal bunnies.”

  Jax folded her arms. “They’s axeman’s apprentices!”

  I ignored her. “You know what we’re talking about. You were watching when we made Mia’s body out of one.”

  Fekinell’s eyes brightened with recognition—if that was even possible. “Executioners…”

  For the first time in quite some while, her body moved, but only to stretch and tense. The cage allowed for little else. Her lip curled with frustration up and over her teeth. Or I should say, fangs.

  Those weren’t there before.

  Unlike the Dolilim, whose fangs were in the lateral cuspid and canine positions of both jaws, Fekinell’s were limited to only her upper canines. But much longer. They looked more akin to a viper’s than a wolf’s, and not at all like Ahnbe’s. The rest of her teeth remained basically humanoid.

  Okay… huh.

  “Where?” she rasped.

  I gestured toward the door. “Just past there. If you want to wait, we can—”

  “No!” she shouted, eyes fixated on the portal while the rest of her shook with need. “Release… me. Now! But stand… stand away. I hunger!”

  Jax nodded along as though that were not about the most monstrous thing her Servant could have said. “I ken ye plain, cunt. See, Master? Told ye she’d nay want to harm us. Just gotta keep yer danglers away from them teeth when ye let her off the leash.”

  “Okay. And how do we get her back on the leash?” Lynnria asked—reasonably enough, in my estimation.

  “None of yer lip, wean,” Jax snapped, then held out her hand. “Here, Master. Let me do it. I’ll not have her snapping at ye.”

  You’re damned right, you’ll do it! We had an angry tomcat the size of a mountain lion trapped in that cage. Fekinell was half a step from turning into a full-on bundle of rage—and potentially, fur—and the sounds she was making were not helping. I would have gladly put a thousand meters of altitude between me and whatever was about to happen, and to hell with whatever mentally scarring delights might await me up there.

  But I kept my dignity.

  “If you insist.” Handing off the key, I took a single, exaggerated step backward, then held very, very still.

  Lynnria hid behind me, the coward.

  “What?” she whispered in answer to my glare. “Not all of us have don’t-notice-me powers, Donum.”

  “And ye won’t need ‘em! Honest-like, ye’d think ye was in danger, the way the two of ye carry on. My Fekinell be harmless as a mouse.” Jax then glanced at Mia, who had not moved. “Well? What about ye?”

  Mia simply arched an eyebrow. “I thought we weren’t—taking it up the asshole!—w-we were not in danger.”

  “Not in danger?!” Jax exclaimed. “Not in—be ye shittin’ blind?! Look at them teeth! Listen to that snarling. That wench be frothing mad, as like to tear yer arm off as look at ye. Mark me!”

  Sadly, we did not have time to appreciate the irony.

  “Mistress… please!” Fekinell wheezed, though it sounded closer to a death rattle. The cage let out a tortured shriek as the Shepherdess’s creation railed against it. “Hunger…”

  “Mia!” I hissed, hurriedly waving her over. “Come here. Stop being an idiot!”

  I expected a bit of clap-back at my brusqueness, but the Goth jackalope girl only smiled as she leisurely sauntered my way.

  “Does my lord fear for this vessel?” she murmured before turning her gaze on an upraised palm. “There is no need. It is but a temporary housing and of little ability—a mere fraction of my total—”

  I was already nodding along before she had gotten to her second sentence, and by the third, impatience won out. “Yeah, I know. We’ll get you a better one as soon as we can, but—”

  “Nobody wants to watch you get torn to pieces, Mia,” Lynnria finished, peeping around my shoulder.

  “You don’t?” She seemed surprised.

  Before I could unpack that, Jax moved. The redhead had been standing before the increasingly slavering beast with the unmatched confidence of someone who could never truly die, but when she crouched to unlock its cage, there was an air of finality in her eyes—as though even she feared what chaos this creature might soon unleash. But then she sniffed, rolled her shoulders back, and determinedly slotted the Key.

  In that instant, the cage vanished—bars, Key, and all. Only Fekinell was left behind. Jax barely had the time to squawk her surprise before the bowl-cut terror was on her.

  On and then over.

  Fekinell leapfrogged past her mistress and made for the door so fast, she was almost a blur. I could have sworn the portal rattled in its hinges from the sheer animosity Fekinell put into opening it—which must have been significant because it had none and was made of hedge.

  Then she was out of sight.

  Sounds of combat followed soon after… though you would be forgiven for thinking it was a T-Rex giving birth to a Xenomorph.

  “Do, uh…” Lynnria swallowed. “Do you think we should help her?”

  Jax’s disembodied voice came in answer. She had been badly startled, so I did not blame her for puffing into smoke—even if it was a total aggro dump.

  “Maybe. That one knew what she were jumping into… but them ‘prentices be a nasty lot. Would nay hurt to see what be what. Just in case… eh, Master?”

  Something screeched from beyond the hedge wall.

  “From a distance, like?” she added.

  None of us moved.

  “Go on, Donum.” Lynnria prodded me from behind.

  “I’m thinking.”

  “About what?” she whispered.

  Rraaaoooorgh! Thud! The bushes shook.

  “About not going anywhere near that.”

  “Donum!” Lynnria slapped my shoulder. “We can’t just stand here!”

  “I don’t see you running off to help her.”

  “With what? I’m completely naked! And whoever stole my clothes took my wand.”

  I grimaced. The previous day had seen me more than a little sex-addled, so I had been preoccupied more with the former than the latter. Still, that stick had better be around here somewhere, or there would be hell to pay. It was just a dirt cannon, admittedly, but no self-respecting Dungeon Master stole the party’s stuff. It was a violation of the Geneva convention!

  Look it up.

  “You’ve got boobs now. Use your finger blasters!”

  The things that come out of my mouth these days…

  Lynnria gasped and clutched at her chest protectively. “But I just got them. What if they shrink?”

  I rolled my eyes. “Lynnria, that’s the entire—”

  “My lord,” Mia cut in. “While I cannot claim to care one way or the other, I should remind you that this is the Third’s creature. She may become upset should we allow it to become overly damaged.”

  I groaned. “Okay, fine! But only—”

  Crump!

  I forgot whatever else I was about to say as one of the flagstones cleared the top of the hedge and thudded to the ground several feet to one side of us. Bits of fur and blood came with it, splattered all across one side as though its ultimate victim had been liquefied.

  Then everything went silent.

  Exchanging hurried glances, we rushed to the door, then cautiously peeked around the edge, stacked one atop the other like a bunch of children’s cartoon characters.

  Bodies were everywhere. Well, bodies of bloodthirsty, murderous bunny rabbits, anyway, but it was still pretty gruesome. Their fuzzy pelts were littered all up and down the path and amidst the trampled flowers, while tufts of fur floated in the wind. And right in the middle of it all was Fekinell.

  The woman-become-monster was calm now, standing as serene and still as a statue… though her missing arms and stump of a leg spoiled the scene somewhat.

  “Oi… cunt,” Jax called. “Ye fit like? Well and full?”

  She had apparently chosen to disregard the obvious maiming her retainer had suffered—but then I was not sure even Fekinell had noticed

  The pale-skinned elf hopped in place until she was facing us. Then, in a move that could not have been more awkward, dropped to her remaining knee and prostrated herself to the flagstones.

  “Forgive me, Mistress. In my haste to feed, I have allowed myself to become damaged. I fear I am beyond repair.”

  Huh. Guess she did notice. Sort of. A normal person would have been howling in pain after injuries like that… at least until they passed out from blood loss. But while Fekinell was definitely bloody, it was not like she was spraying from her arteries.

  Jax glanced at us, then stepped onto the path. She fluffed her hair a bit before speaking. “Right… well. Don’t ye worry about that none. We’ll see ye to rights. Just see it don’t happen again. Ye gave us a fright back there.”

  “How’d she send that flagstone over the hedge without arms?” Lynnria whispered into my ear.

  Good question. But all I said was, “Shh!”

  Fekinell’s head lifted just enough to sight Jax’s feet. “Mistress… Mistress will not abandon me?”

  “Course not!” Jax settled her shoulders and affected a leisurely stroll through the carnage. “Ye kept yer head, did ye nay? Well enough not to bring none of us no harm.”

  Ell gasped like an alien trying to mimic human behavior. I think she was going for outrage. Or perhaps offense? “Never.”

  “And ye cleared out these nasty blighters for us,” Jax went on, gesturing about herself as she came to her underling’s side. Then she performed an about-face to look back at us. “That be sommat to be proud of. Ain’t it, Master?”

  I nodded from the safety of the head-pile. “Y-Yeah! Good job, Fekinell.”

  “My lord praises me!” The blood-soaked woman started beating her head against the flagstones. “I am unworthy of his notice!”

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  “Uh…”

  Jax let out a choking sound before aiming a kick at her. “Here, stop that, you. I warned ye once! Don’t ye go embarrassing me.”

  The rest of us winced at the physical abuse, but Fekinell did not react.

  “Are we sure she’s not dangerous?” Lynnria whispered again.

  I was sure she was. Erratic did not begin to cover this woman’s behavior. She had gone from a crazed berserker, to emotionless as a stone… and now this? But standing about like a bunch of hobos around a dumpster fire would get us nowhere. Best to take this tiger by the tail. In her eyes, I was supposed to be some almighty lord on high, so I straightened, smoothed my robes, and affected an air of unconcerned nobility.

  “She seems in control of herself. You two look around for Ell’s limbs. I’ll see what I can do about putting her back together.”

  Lynnria glanced at Mia before reluctantly moving to obey. Her counterpart followed a second after, wordlessly but with a slight twinkle in her eye.

  What? So I was taking up the rear. What did she expect me to do?

  Ignoring her, I picked my way through the debris as though fearing I might catch something. Which was a natural enough thing to do, but I still felt silly. The sheer number of things my robes had been stained with defied description, but I had my role to play. Until I sussed out this creature’s habits, mannerisms, and expectations, I needed to toe what lines I knew would not get me killed.

  Still, I could not help but notice just how many of the rabbits she had slain. Or maybe their being torn to pieces was skewing the count? It was hard to say. Regardless, she did not seem to have eaten much.

  “Fekinell—” I paused. Right. Don’t speak to her directly. That just gets her excited. “Jax, are we sure your Servant is fully sated? There’s an awful lot of, uhm… meat left lying around.”

  Jax glanced from me to Ell in confusion before catching on.

  “Right, eh…” She nudged the woman with a foot. “Ye heard the master, cunt. Answer his question.”

  “I ate one before the rest attacked, Mistress,” Ell recounted, addressing the flagstones. “You need not fear.”

  “Aye, but were it enough?” Jax sighed. “And get off yer belly! Ye ain’t a bloody cur.”

  “I—I could…” Fekinell grunted, her bloodied stumps scrabbling at the flagstones like a beetle on a wet bar of soap, but after a hard-fought battle, she wobbled upright—triumphant, if a tad lop-sided. “I could use one or two more, Mistress… if it would not trouble you.”

  Jax nodded, quickly scouting about for a more-or-less intact specimen, before choosing one and delicately pinching the corpse between her claws. Nausea passed over her features.

  “Course it troubles me,” she grumbled. “Eating… meat. Blech. And stop calling me Mistress!”

  “Yes, Mistress.”

  Jax’s face fell. Ell was proving immune to instruction—a veritable wall of devotion. She seemed custom built to cause her avowed sovereign as much grief as possible.

  “Speak up, ye radge gutter-shite. I cannay hear for the whistling ‘twixt yer ears!”

  Fekinell had been staring at the dangling rodent every bit as intently as the cur Jax had named her. So her next words should not have been a surprise.

  “Yes, Mistress.”

  “Why, ye lavvy-headed—Ye wanna have a go?! That it?”

  “Just give her the executioner, Jax,” Lynnria called out. Grunting, she tossed the severed leg she had been carrying to the ground at their feet.

  Executioner. Axeman’s apprentice. I tutted. Too many syllables. Why doesn’t anyone like vorpal bunny? It was short, sweet; it rolled off the tongue…

  With a disgusted huff, Jax tossed the ‘tartare de lapin’ next to the leg.

  Fekinell just stared at it. I might have described her expression as haunted or forsaken, but it was the same as ever. Something about the lack of arms and inability to fold herself in half to reach the thing was doing the work for her.

  “Oh, come on, Jax.” I was halfway toward grabbing the mangled rabbit before remembering myself. “Look at her!”

  Jax settled hands on hips. “It’s what she gets. I ain’t in the business of babying disrespectful cunts.”

  That word seemed to oscillate between endearment and insult, depending on her mood.

  Lynnria snorted. “Don’t you have that backward?”

  “And what do that supposed to mean?” Jax asked, rounding on the girl.

  “Here’s an arm,” Mia announced from down the way. “I can’t find the other one.”

  Fekinell nodded toward the hedge wall. “It’s just there. The momentum must have carried it underneath, but I can sense it. It calls to me.”

  “Your arm calls to you?”

  Ell’s eyes widened at my address. And widened farther once I knelt to retrieve her severed limb. “Yes, my lord, but… N-No, please! It… I am unclean!”

  “Don’t be ridiculous. I’m just…” I grunted a bit, having to stretch before coming up with the thing. “…just trying to figure out what you are.”

  Dusting the loose soil away, I took a moment to look it over. Not much blood. Kind of pale. No sign of claws. Maybe a ghoul? Or a vampire? Fekinell certainly had the teeth for it, but her flesh was still warm. That should have ruled out anything undead. What the hell did Ahnbe pull out of my head?

  Fekinell started gasping for breath. “Mistress… Mistress, please! His touch. I am unworthy!”

  Jax quirked an eyebrow and squatted next to her underling, suddenly extremely interested. “Oh, aye? Feel that, do ye? Do he crawl ‘neath yer skin? Do ye ache for sommat ye cannay explain, like yer gash be spanning to catch fire?”

  Something like actual fear overcame Ell’s features. “Y-ye—yes!”

  Apparently, she meant that literally. Because her arm burst into flame.

  In my hands.

  And with a startled yelp, I jumped away. “Shit!”

  The length of flesh arced through the air like a lit match—the heat so blindingly intense it was almost too much to bear. Then, with a fwup, the flames winked out. By the time it had settled to the ground, the arm had become little more than a charred husk.

  Lynnria rushed to my side. “Whistling… dicks!”

  “You can say that again.”

  She looked up at me. “Did you do that on purpose?”

  “How would I do that on purpose?!”

  “I don’t know! You turned me into a… whatever I am. Maybe you cast a spell!”

  “Well, I didn’t this time. And anyway, Mia was in charge of most of that.”

  “Mia!” Jax leapt to her feet. “Explain this!”

  The jackalope girl tilted her head before tossing the unblemished arm beside its former twin. “Explain what?”

  “Ye looked the cunt over with the Master when the Shepherdess were finished with her. I seen it. Ye know what she did.”

  “I know what she Wrote, if that’s what you’re implying. There was nothing there to identify this creature by name. It was just a lot of instructions: how it would feed and gain power, dormant abilities and how they might awaken—that sort of thing. I…” Her eyes sparkled again. With mischief? “…very much doubt this was intended.”

  Hmm…

  “No, of course, it wasn’t intended,” I grumbled, dismissing the matter.

  Ahnbe was… well, I did not want to say simple-minded. More… forthright in her dealings. She usually meant what she said, even if it was sheer lunacy, so I fully believed she had been telling us the truth. This creature’s purpose was as a token counterpart to Xyn—a palantir into my personal life and a way for the Shepherdess to stay close to me without saddling us with the tonnage of her divine presence. She had even hoped it might eventually tempt me, like the rest of my girls, so there was no way she had meant for this to happen.

  “Are you…” I winced, hesitating to even finish the sentence. It was inadequate on its face. “Are you alright, Fekinell?”

  The unintended victim of my scrutiny kept her eyes firmly upon the flagstones. “I will be, my lord. Please, do not concern yourself.”

  From her tone, you would never have known she had just spontaneously combusted. Admittedly, the affected limb had not been attached at the time, so you would expect a reduced psychological impact, but this was ridiculous. I was causing her more discomfort than the damned fire!

  “Jax, come here a minute.”

  With a nod, she followed me some distance away so that we could talk out of earshot. Behind us, I could hear Lynnria starting to pepper the… whatever-she-was with questions.

  “Did you feel it when your arm caught fire?”

  “Yes.”

  “How?!”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Oh.” Lynnria scratched her chin. “Well, what did it feel like?”

  “Like my arm was on fire.”

  The girl clenched her fist. “O-Okay, but—”

  Wishing her luck, I turned to Jax. “What is she feeling? Like… is she angry? Upset? Vaguely… agitated? I—I can’t read her at all! Her face is like a stone mask. I mean, I can tell I’m hurting her somehow, but I can’t figure out why.”

  The redhead sighed. “It ain’t making much sense to me, neither, Master. Usual-like, she be all gray and dull inside. Or now, least-ways. She were different before.”

  “Before we came to the Dungeon?”

  “Aye.”

  “But we only talked to her for a few minutes.”

  She shrugged. “And she were different then. Confused, aye. Fearful. But the emotions were… sharp-like—akin a normal person. Now they’s… well… more like a monster, I’m guessing. Course, with them, I never feel nothing, so there be that.”

  “You don’t normally feel emotions from monsters?”

  Her chin jerked to one side. “Nay. I did ne’er tell ye that?”

  “Ah, maybe you did.” It had probably come up at some point, but I saw no reason to dwell on it. “But what about… what about when her arm caught fire? Or when I was holding it? The way you were acting, I almost thought she was—”

  “—having her bean thumped?” she finished with a grin. “Aye, and ye was right to think it. T’were ecstasy, that. Pure and bright. But a sort I ain’t felt.”

  She glanced back at Fekinell thoughtfully.

  “A sort I ain’t felt from nobody.”

  Hmm. And then she caught fire? I had better be careful not to touch the rest of her.

  “Oh, neat!” Lynnria whipped around. “Donum! Come look at this! Her arm reattached itself.”

  “Wha—really?”

  In a rush, I returned to the pair, hoping to see just how that blackened ruin could have possibly come back to life, but Lynnria had apparently been referring to the undamaged one. Which was obvious in hindsight, but in all the excitement… Anyway, Fekinell’s left arm was now fully intact. Not even a scar remained to mark where it had been severed.

  And I had missed it!

  “How did that happen?” I exclaimed. “Did it crawl back on its own? Was there a liquid-metal situation?”

  “A what situation?”

  “You’d know it if you saw it.” That’s one thing ruled out. Thank goodness.

  “L-Look, I’ll explain if you just give me a second,” Lynnria began. “Ell just—”

  “My name is Fekinell.”

  Lynnria shook her head, distracted. “What? But you said we could call you Ell for short.”

  “I did not.”

  “Yes, you—you absolutely did! Back when you first woke up. I remember!”

  “Then you are mistaken.”

  “I’m mis—” Lynnria stiffened, instantly donning the mantle of the entitled princess. Had it come with clothing, it might have even been effective. “Donum, tell this… this wench—”

  “The arm, Lynnria?” I reminded her.

  “Fine!” She let out a frustrated hiss. “Fekinell was trying to reach the executioner Jax had left for her, when I—graciously—offered to help. She didn’t thank me… even when I got my hands all bloody.”

  “Lynnria…”

  She rolled her eyes. “Anyway, she didn’t eat it. She just bit the thing, and it… I don’t know. It got more dead, somehow? It’s right there.”

  She gestured toward a desiccated lump of fur. And she had been spot on. It was no longer simply dead. It was roadkill dead—flattened and wilted, the fur unusable, meat inedible—something you would scrape up with a shovel and toss into the tall grass so no one needed to look at it.

  It was also a sort of dead Jax and I knew well, and we shared a pointed look.

  Drained of Life Energy.

  I had not expected this. Ahnbe had made it seem like Fekinell had been pulled entirely from my own imagination. A 50s creature-feature. A Supernatural monster-of-the-week. None of those dealt with Life Energy.

  But on reflection, I should not have been surprised. Ahnbe was a denizen of this world, not mine. Whatever she created would have to follow its rules, an interpretation through the lens of her own experience. Monster telephone, if you will.

  That would explain a lot of the inconsistencies.

  “Anyway,” she went on, “after she spat it out, her stump got all… squidgy, like it was trying to reach for the missing arm? So I thought—well, first, I thought, ‘Ew, gross.’ Because… you know. But then, I thought—”

  Jax and I shared another look.

  “—then, I thought, ‘Hey, what if I bring the two together?’ So I did, and this silvery… blood stuff reached out of her bone?—”

  Silvery blood stuff? Maybe I had been too hasty to rule out the T-1000 scenario… but out of her bone?!

  “—and grabbed the severed arm right out of my hands! I was totally freaking out, and Ell—”

  “Fekinell.”

  “Whatever. You were freaking out, too. Admit it!”

  “I admit you are delusional.”

  “I am not! She shows nothing on her face, Donum, but there’s a lot going on under the surface. I can tell! And she. Was freaking. Out!”

  It was a bit of a stretch, given that she could not discern flavors, but it was not unreasonable to assume Lynnria could pick up on intensity. I was more interested in the strange dynamic these two were developing. Absent the subservient attitude she felt compelled to adopt with me or Jax, Fekinell had a bit of a Wednesday Addams thing going on.

  Minus the hair, of course. And the bright green dress. Wednesday would never have tolerated those.

  “Go on.”

  “There isn’t much to tell. After that, the whole thing just sort of… slurped together! Ell just—”

  “Fekinell.”

  “Ell just sat there staring at it and flexing her hand. She didn’t complain, but I think it hurt her.”

  That was interesting. “Did it hurt?”

  Fekinell averted her eyes. “His lordship need not concern himself with—”

  “Yer really starting to rocket me arse, cunt,” Jax interrupted hotly. “The master and me don’t take kindly to a bunch of scraping. Just be how ye be, and answer the bloody question!”

  She nodded—I think uncomfortably. “Yes, Mistress. My lord… I felt the pain. But it was the pain of being whole again. I cannot explain it better.”

  Hmm. “Are you still in pain?”

  “Yes, my lord. Elsewhere.” She shot her severed leg a significant look.

  “Ah.” Stupid question. There was no sign of her remaining stump going ‘squidgy,’ though. “Do you think we can reattach it? Or do you need to eat first?”

  “I do not know, my lord.”

  “Of course not.” I sighed. Jax was right: the bowing and scraping was really starting to wear on me. “And sir is fine.”

  Fekinell’s eyes went round, and she made a sound in her throat like she was choking on a lemon.

  Apparently, Mia agreed. “Do not be ridiculous! Sir?! This tender creature could never cast her sovereign in such low station. Might I suggest Sire, instead?”

  Ell’s face returned to her accustomed blank stare. I took it for acquiescence. Or relief? Or perhaps she had simply ignored our suggestions and chosen to continue as she had been.

  Great. I’ve got a Bandit, a barbarian, a princess, a dragon girl, Mia, a couple of goddesses, and now whatever the hell this is. At the very least, her being an emotionless automaton that could only just tolerate my attention would keep her out of my hair.

  “Alright, fine. I don’t know how much Life Energy is left in these rabbits, but hopefully it’s enough to get her put back together.” I glanced at the blackened remains of her arm one last time. “Otherwise… well, let’s just hope she can take a healing spell or things are gonna get really awkward.”