Gods Save the Queen - Book 3 - The Last Elven King

Created and written by Duleigh

©Copyright 2026 by Duleigh

Edited by KMaz317

Preface

Gods Save the Queen Book 3 - The Last Elven King

I’ve mentioned in the past that as a writer, I have the distinct pleasure of standing on the shoulders of giants. J. R. R. Tolkien, Ursula Le Guin, C. S. Lewis, Neil Gaiman, Robert E. Howard, H. G. Wells, and so many more. One of my absolute favorite authors is Andrew Klavan, who is able to craft novels of such varied and engaging stories that are hard to put down, and that’s what I’m trying to do here: create a story that takes you away from the real world, because sometimes it’s not all that much fun.

I write because I want to share these stories that flutter around in my head and on rare occasion they make sense. I’m a disabled veteran and writing is my way of reaching out to other worlds and have a life that is unlike what happens here. My editor, KMaz, is disabled as well but I don’t think she was in the places I found myself in so many years ago. But she’s a reader, and has a memory that impresses and scares me a little, so if you have a question, I’m sure one of us has an answer.

Gods Save the Queen began as a fan fiction of Terry Pratchett’s Discworld, but I wanted to go beyond a funny flat world on the back of four elephants who ride through space on a giant sea turtle. I wanted a fantasy universe that could possibly happen, and soon the solar system of Thaal was born.

The first two books were fun to write, and it was very difficult to keep the humor that my original fan fiction was built with out of the story. But now in book three, things start to get more serious. Nick has been returned to Octavia and the Kingdom of Uduithia but there’s a price to be paid. Nick is now Emperor of a far distant world that takes months to journey there over land and by sea.

Xuantang has been ruled by selfish emperors who cared nothing for the people and for the things that make an empire great, like feeding their people. The Xuantang Army is a dispirited mob, the Navy no longer existed, and it was up to Nick to rule that properly until the rightful emperor takes the throne. Nick also finds out that with great power comes a great price. Having the ability to become any animal you want is not free.

The main idea behind Gods Save the Queen Book 3 - The Last Elven King is to explore Kodu deeper than in Books 1 and 2, and bring up questions like who are the gods? Are they actual Gods? Or are they something else? Why do the different elf tribes fight among each other? Why are there demi-giants, and werewolves, humans? And why do the gods allow some technology but not other forms.

Gods Save the Queen is currently planned to be an eight book series, but it is so much fun to write I can picture it going further. I never realized how creating your own universe could be such a challenge, but be so much fun at the same time. My editor KMaz is incredible at keeping me on the straight and narrow and she is incredible at keeping me true to the characters.

Thank you for joining this adventure. May you find in these pages both escape and meaning, and may the spirit of the Warrior Duchess embolden you to face your own battles with grace and courage. And a huge thank you to KMaz317 for all the work she’s put into this universe that popped out of my head. She’s the wrangler that keeps these characters in line and the heart behind their romances.

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Chapter 01 - Celebration Dinner

Octavia Stein stepped out of the cottage, drawing her shawl around her. The cold was blowing in from the south and down from the mountains. Other kingdoms she had lived in were warmer. Breaze was much further north, closer to the equator and much more temperate. It was cooled by cool breezes from the ocean and was perfect weather all year long. That’s why it’s the breadbasket of Kodu. Teurnia was just south of Breaze, and it seemed to be warmer. Warm breezes from the north and hot springs throughout the mountains seemed to keep Teurnia warm year-round. Elbreshowth, between Uduithia and Teurnia, is always damp and wet, and Uduithia is definitely chilly in the late autumn.

She was currently upset; she had a meeting with the king, and her husband was not there. She shouted for him, but not verbally.

NICK!

Her voice boomed mentally across Black Mountain. “There he is,” said their farm manager, Hugues du Gouey, and he pointed off to the western prominence of Black Mountain. There, beneath the clouds that hid the tip of Black Mountain, was a huge golden Xuantang dragon. He was gliding in circles above the mountain, daring someone to take a shot at him. This time he’s going to make damn sure that if he gets shipped off to Xuantang again, he’s going to go with a full belly.

Nick, please, we have a meeting with the king!

The dragon turned south toward the farm and locked his wings halfway back and dove. He started picking up speed, and as he gained speed, he let out a dragon’s battle roar, mostly for something to do. “Here he comes, your grace,” said Hugues du Gouey, a demi-giant hand-to-hand combat expert. Hugues stands eight feet tall, which for a demi-giant is average size, but years as a sword for hire left him very muscular. Nick Stein was the only human to beat him in a fight, and Nick beat him in a matter of seconds using mind over muscle. Because of that, Hugues has an everlasting admiration for Nick, even in Nick’s present confused state. “I’ll get the cart out for you, your grace.”

Hugues ducked into the barn and wheeled out Octavia’s Ralli cart, a two-wheeled cart that was merely a big wooden box on a single axle with tall, spoked wheels. Four people could sit atop the box, two facing forward, two facing aft, and a week’s worth of groceries could fit inside the box. It’s an inexpensive little carriage often seen in use by young families in the mountains when they don’t want to get out the farm wagon.

Normally, the duke, duchess, or any member of the king’s court will ride in an enclosed carriage pulled by at least two horses. Nick decided, and Octavia agreed, that a duke or duchess can’t see their properties and subjects from an enclosed carriage. Although they were royalty, Nick and Octavia were poor farmers, so they acted like poor farmers and used the only cart they could afford. They don’t even have a horse. They use a mule or, occasionally; they use the Duke.

The dragon grew near, and Octavia was terrified. He wasn’t flying; he had locked his wings and was coming down off the mountain in a controlled drop, racing toward her at blinding speed. Finally, at the last moment, the dragon extended his wings fully and leaned back, using his wings as air brakes, slowing his plunge like pulling a parachute. As Nick slowed to a controllable speed, Gula flashed out from wherever she was hiding and fluttered around the dragon’s head, squawking angrily at him, flapping her wings in rage.

The dragon came to a stop a couple of feet above the Ralli cart and suddenly became Nick. The Duke of Wægn dropped from the air and landed next to the cart, then sagged to his hands and knees and knelt there, shivering. Hugues and Dexter led the mule Kaleb between the traces and began buckling the mule to the pony cart. It may look silly to pull a pony cart with a mule, but that’s all the Duke and Duchess have. Normally, it’s the duke in the shape of a horse pulling the cart.

When Nick changes into or out of a creature’s form, there’s no flash or puff of smoke like what happens in the magic of men; for Nick, it just happens like he was born to change into a different character. To change to a different form, Nick uses a long-forgotten type of magic that was ancient before men ever walked on Kodu. Most often he changes to something that doesn’t have to walk because of the pain in his leg.

Hugues lifted the duke onto the cart as easily as if he were lifting a child, then went back to buckling in the mule. Nick looked around confused, his head spinning with pain. Octavia climbed up and sat next to him. “Do you remember where we’re going?” She asked, but Nick slowly shook his head no. “We’re going over Breeders Peak to Waelmore Castle to meet with the king and queen. Understand?”

Nick nodded his head slowly, as if the idea of traveling to Waelmore Castle was alien and just breaking into his understanding. She gave her husband’s cheek a kiss and then wrapped a blanket around them and grasped his hand. When she squeezed his hand, a connection was made, and she could feel the pain he was experiencing. The nerves, muscles, blood vessels, and bones in his right leg just above his right ankle were knitting themselves back together after being sliced off. Both Nick and Octavia were sure that recovery would be complete and successful, but it was taking a long time. It’s been over a week since Octavia sliced his foot off.

“He’s ready to go, ma’am,” said the farmhand Dexter, who handed her the reins. He quickly added, “yer grace,” after a scathing look from the demi-giant Hugues. Like all other farmhands, Dexter was a demi-giant, although he was a foot shorter than Hugues.

With a cluck of her tongue and a snap of the reins, they were off, and Hugues turned to go back to work, followed by Dexter. “Everyone the duke hired to work on the farm is a demi-giant,” said Dexter. “Does he expect more work for the money out of us?”

Hugues laughed and said, “What you do on the farm compared to what you eat, I would say the duke is losing money on the deal.”

“Why does he have so many of us demi-giants on the farm?” asked Dexter.

“When he was known as Captain de la Montesquieu, commander of the King’s Guard in Breaze, his best friend and his first sergeant was Jehans Du Gouey, my kinsman. The duke could trust his life with that man… I intend that we all keep that trust with the duke in Jehans’ memory.”

“What happened to your kinsman?” asked Dexter, whose highest position in life was a farm laborer for the Duke of Wægn.

“Jehans died trying to protect his king and commander the night that Breaze fell.”

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Octavia and Nick wheeled into the village and several village folk came up to the Ralli cart to say hello. Nick pulled the blanket around him and pulled Octavia closer. “Are you ok brother?” asked Wayne Metsker as he patted Nick on the back. But Nick recoiled from Wayne’s touch. That shocked the young blacksmith. He and Nick grew up together, so Nick’s reaction was a shock.

“He’s not doing well, he was held prisoner by an insane emperor,” said Octavia.

“He was a boy… and I killed him,” said Nick, staring off into space. “I killed his father too…”

“If you didn’t kill him, I would have,” said Wayne. “Nobody treats my duke that way.”

“I’m trying to…” rasped Nick. He was shivering, fighting the emotions he wanted to purge.

“It’s ok brother,” said Wayne. “You were always there for me whenever I needed you. If it weren’t for you I’d have no family surrounding me every night. I want to return the favor. I’m going to keep that firewood stack of yours as high as possible. You keep your cottage toasty warm this winter; I’ll make sure you have the wood you and Octavia need.”

Nick fought back the tears. He reached out and pulled Wayne to him and held him close, and whispered, “Thank you brother.”

Finally, the duke and duchess headed up Breeders Peak Road, the steep road that wove back and forth up the ridge that protected Waleston, the capital of Uduithia and home of Waelmore Castle, the oldest castle on Kodu. “You’re getting better,” said Octavia. “You spoke to Wayne.”

“I have to speak with so many more in a couple of hours.”

“What is the matter?” asked Octavia. “Do you want me to poke around in your head and find out?”

“You can if you want. Maybe it will help me find out who I am.”

At the top of Breeders Peak Road, they stopped and looked out over the town of Walston. It was all stonework. Every building in town was made from the same gray rock that the castle was made from. The same gray rock that Breeders Peak was made from. Nick could feel Octavia peering around inside his psyche, but she’s only going to find the same thing that he’s found - confusion. “I think I found it,” said Octavia.

“You found that I’m lost and confused? I already know that.”

“But why are you confused?” asked Octavia. Nick just shrugged and leaned on her. “It’s because you still think you’re a bird. A trapped bird.”

“I know that” said Nick. How long was he forced to sit on a perch in the throne room of the Emperor of the Xuantang Empire? Trapped, unable to change back to his human body. Unable to fly home to Octavia. All the time he lost, unable to spend it with his loving wife.

“You’re a free bird now,” said Octavia. “You’ve been avoiding changing into an eagle, so to you, your eagle self is still a prisoner. Go - fly. Be free, and when I get to the castle, join me.”

“What if I can’t change back? What if I don’t want to change back?”

“Then I will have a beautiful Uduithian Black Eagle on my shoulder sharing my dinner.”

Nick looked at her for a full minute and then said, “I hope we’re having lamb.” And in the next moment, he became an eagle and flew away.

Octavia and Kaleb trekked down the mountain into Waleston. She was getting concerned. Winter would soon be upon them, and they would need a horse and sleigh to travel to and from the castle when the King called them in to confer. She didn’t look up to see where Nick was; she could hear his mental cries of “I’m free!” as he circled the castle, waiting for Octavia to arrive.

When she wheeled through the portcullis of the castle and stopped at the door reserved for royalty to enter the castle, an eagle swooped down from above and landed on the cart. Without a flash or puff of smoke, the eagle became Nick, and he eased down from the cart. Most of the guards were not surprised; they’d seen it happen before.

Octavia handed Nick his broom, which was in reality a staff that had been presented to him by the goddess of fate, Saatus. The staff named Teivas actually has much more magical capabilities than Nick has. It became a black crutch, then Octavia handed Nick her wizard’s staff, Virga, which is crowned with the Orb of Jørn, which gives the user of Virga the ability to see anything they request. When coupled with Octavia’s little fortress on top of Black Mountain, Virga and the Orb of Jørn can become a deadly weapon. In Nick’s hands, the Orb of Jørn stays closed, a sphere of stone, and the staff becomes a second crutch for Nick. Both staves have tremendous power, and both know who their wielder is, but they both look tempting to those with nefarious goals in mind.

Nick and Octavia were led to a side room where they changed into “Presentation Clothing.” Nick has a uniform kept here in the palace, and Octavia has a stunning wizard’s gown and matching robe. Although Nick is a witch, he rarely wears a witch’s hat; he usually wears a bush hat that was presented to him by the Bush Rangers of Bovuka. She helped him on with his uniform and boots, which shocked the valet. “A lady never dresses a gentleman.”

“I’m no gentleman,” said Nick. “I’m a witch.”

“I’m no lady,” added Octavia. “I’m a wizard.”

She looked up at Nick, and he was smiling for the first time since he had returned. “Thank you for setting me free,” he whispered. “I’m not repaired, but I’m better.”

“Good,” she said as she patted her gently growing tummy. “Someone will want a happy daddy.”

After changing, Nick and Octavia were escorted to the grand dining room by Lieutenant Hillingham of the Hay-on-Wægn Highway Guard and Harold Lorchester, the Court Herald. As they entered the palace ballroom, Nick saw that the ballroom was set up for a feast and the tables were packed. They stopped at the door and Harold announced, “Their grace! The Duke and Duchess of Wægn!”

“GUARD! Ten HUT!” cried Dante Fletcher, the first sergeant of the Hay-on-Wægn Mounted Guard. With a boom of heels striking the marble floor, the guard snapped to attention as their duke and duchess entered the room. Nick was their duke and their former commander, but after the Battle of Black Mountain, Octavia was their commander by popular acclamation. As they entered the ballroom, the guests rose and began to applaud. Nick tried to ignore their applause and felt ashamed. He had to remind himself that they were applauding Octavia and not him for being held prisoner and killing a child.

In the ballroom, a feast was being held, a feast in memory of those who gave their lives and those who protected lives in the Battle of Black Mountain. The hospital was set up in Elm Springs, and the long-term cases moved to Waelmore Castle after the battle, and that ward has finally been emptied. Many of the former patients of that hastily erected hospital have returned for this dinner. Sir Ned Sinclair Darby, the Duke of Torwin and commander of the city guard, started the speeches and gave a moving eulogy for Officer Marcasite, the troll who lost his life before the battle, brutally murdered by rogue dwarves. After that, there were speeches by members of Octavia’s army, and there was a lot of laughter to go around, especially when Major Leomaris Autumnfall described the lessons he learned under the tutelage of Duchess Octavia Stein.

The Duke of Wægn, Sir Nicholas (Nick) Stein, and his beautiful wife, the court wizard, Her Grace Octavia Stein sat at a table near the front with two dwarves, Bughac Orebeard and Eryri Brawnkin and two elves; Vesstan Aedi, mayor of the new elven city Irla Stein Anore, and his wife Seldanna of the Rofir. Their partners have become their life mates, and the three couples have forged an unbreakable bond in times of war and peace. Eryri and Octavia became close friends on the field of battle after Eryri shot Octavia’s husband out of the sky so he could be sold to an insane emperor. As for Buggy and Nick, they were imprisoned together in the royal throne room in the great palace in Chéngshì Jin, not long after Buggy tried to put a contract on Nick’s head with the Dispatcher’s Federation.

No relationship is perfect.

One by one, men and dwarves were called up and honored for their acts of courage and bravery in the battle. Nick rose and shook the hand of each one as they walked past his table. Nick wasn’t at the battle; he had been abducted months prior, and they fought the battle to free him. Even though injured, Nick’s former bandits were there: Alfie, Carl, Bertie, and Dexter, bandits that he caught on the road as highwaymen, and he put on the straight and narrow and now are his farmhands. “Good to see ya gov’na” and “Can’t wait to get back to work.”

All Nick could say was a hoarse but heartfelt “Thank you,” as he shook each hand and tried to avoid each glance. Then he looked up at the king, who was standing at the head table, and the king gestured to him. Nick slowly rose. His staff Teivas became the cane it once was when Saatus presented it to him, and he walked with the wobbly, painful gait that came from the pain of having his severed foot magically re-attached. He stepped up to the lectern and opened the introduction that the king’s scribe had written for him, and he hated every meaningless word.

Nick has never taken a public speaking class. He doesn’t understand any concept other than “Speak loud enough to be heard in the back,” but he is smart enough to know when other people’s words are not good enough for his woman. He took the notes and nervously folded them up and returned them to his pocket. The crowd was silent as he looked at Octavia and spoke softly to her, but he was loud enough to be heard in the back.

“Not long ago my goals in life were simple, to protect my king, to live through the night, and to do it again on the morrow. Then I met Octavia Anghart and my meaningful and worthy goals somehow became silly. How do you not grow in wisdom when she can lead you to the greatest works of knowledge in all of mankind? How do you not fall in love when you stand side by side with love personified, and she takes your hand and says, ‘I’m proud of you?’ With her help, I could soon read and write in several languages, bind books, teach children, and more. I followed her across Kodu and killed a god to protect her. My happiest day was the day we pledged ourselves to each other. When I was held captive, she tore the roots of Kodu apart to find me, and bring me home, so she can give me the most important, most wonderful task on Kodu, to be a father. Please welcome my wife, Lady Octavia Anghart-Stein.”

Through thunderous applause, Vesstan Aedi escorted Lady Anghart-Stein to the dais, where she stood before the King who awarded her the Uduithia Medal of Honor for stopping the pillaging of Black Mountain by criminal dwarves and freeing the Duke of Wægn from captivity in Xuantang. That wasn’t the end of the ceremony, but it was for Nick and Octavia. Both were tired of being in the public eye, and they needed to get their lives together and get their duchy ready for winter. Stepping outside the castle, they found Kaleb and their cart ready to take them home.

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Chapter 02 - Torwin-Armistad

The twin cities of Torwin-Armistad grew up on two different paths. Torwin was the capital city of the Duchy of Torwin. It was part of the Kingdom of Aquilara. Armistad was a small rural village on the upwind side of the Eldrin river and it was a small part of the Driton Empire. By the time the unified calendar was made public three thousand, four hundred, thirty-one years ago, the Duke of Torwin and his forces had already assaulted the Kingdom of Aquilara, executed his majesty King Paavo Rebane, and taken command. They moved the palace from the ruins of the capital city of Pymeni to the Palace of the Seventeen Kings in Torwin.

Armistad was a picturesque rural village on the other side of the Eldrin, a free-flowing river between Torwin and Armistad, and it marked the border between the fallen Kingdom of Aquilara and the fading Driton Empire. Soon the upper crust of Torwin was buying up real estate in Armistad, and ferries were soon set up to carry the coaches of the upper classes back and forth. Eventually Torwin bought out the financially strapped Driton Empire and just named the land they occupied Torwin-Armistad.

Torwin was always an industrial town. It was filled with smiths, foundries, cattle pens, and slaughterhouses. These, of course, attracted amenities for the hardworking man - diners, bars, burlesque theaters, whorehouses, and speakeasies. Many men didn’t have a place to live. They would get off work, pay a half dollar for something to eat and then spend a fiver on an all-nighter at the local whorehouse. He gets a room, a companion for the night, and breakfast in the morning. For an extra ace, they’ll do his laundry as he “sleeps.”

Beer was the number one drink in Torwin, being the only safe way to drink water from the Eldrin River. There were two popular drugs for the people of Torwin. Thyme was a hallucinogen that blended memories with the present; it made work difficult, especially for slaughterhouse workers, because you didn’t know if you were butchering a cow or a prostitute. Skim was the most popular illicit substance because it was the most addictive. It was originally a muscle relaxant for overworked trolls, but given to humans it acts as a ‘brain relaxant’ causing feelings of euphoria and eventually leading to hallucinations. Full addiction was characterized by fits of uncontrollable rage when coming down from a Skim high. Skim was often slipped into the men’s drinks at disreputable establishments.

The only “nice” part of Torwin was the area around the Palace of the Seventeen Kings. It was called that because before Aquilara fell, seventeen dukes of Torwin were crowned king. Their palace was eventually renamed the Office of the Dominus. Near that was the Temple of Saehrimnir complex with a university, hospital, library, temple, and orphanage. The orphanage was primarily for pretty little girls who were raised to be ‘second wives’ for nobles and royalty. Those who didn’t make it to the wedding altar were auctioned off.

Armistad, on the other hand, was shaded parkways and walled mansions. It was a city of genteel money and free time. People went for walks just for the joy of walking. Armistad was considered a ‘bedroom community’ because most residents of Armistad worked in Torwin as management, never as labor. The residents of Armistad had time for entertaining pursuits; they enjoyed archery, falconry, and hunting. Board games were highly popular among the upper crust, with chess being the most popular, followed by Go.

Every weekend, someone hosted a seasonal event. During the summer, it was a garden party with food, music, and lawn games like lawn bowling or croquet. During the winter, the host would have a sit-down dinner followed by a dance. The bigger the band, the better. During the two-week festival month of Yule, the only people in Armistad who were working were servants.

Not only participating in genteel sports, but the population of Armistad was crazy about going to watch sporting events. Several venues were built just for their passion for sports. There’s Armistad Stands, where the finest polo ponies compete and track events occur. In the winter, the foot track around the polo field was flooded, frozen, and skating races were held. Armistad Downs was where the finest of thoroughbreds raced, both ridden and pulling sulkies or chariots. Lake Armistad was an enormous lake where the finest of sailboats raced, as did rowers, canoeists, and swimmers. The upper class of Armistad enjoyed any race they could place wagers on the outcome.

The dregs of humanity (most of the population of Torwin) did not place wagers. They bet. They gambled. They were skilled at turning a handful of silver five-dollar coins into a staggering debt that lost homes, put children into coal mines and wives into whorehouses to work off the debt. They bet on boxing matches, professional wrestling matches, football, sword fights, and nude whore wrestling. When there wasn’t an event to bet on, they played cards, and the favorite was Hocca, a fast-paced way to lose an entire paycheck in less than an hour.

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Night was setting on Torwin-Armistad, also called the Main Meat Market, a city of a million men, women, dwarves, trolls, goblins, vampires, werewolves, and a growing population of ogres. Home to the concept of governance by one man, one vote. Unfortunately, the Dominus is the man, and he counts the votes. Law enforcement is by contract, where guilds and federations rule the activities of men and women, all their activities. Murder is legal by permit, but stabbing isn’t, which causes some interesting legal issues. Suppose you have a contract to entomb a person and you stab your quarry; if he dies, you get paid. If he lives, you go to prison.

The first task of the City Guard when finding a body is to determine if it’s a dead body. Thanks to Skim, there’s far too many living bodies littering the streets and alleys of Torwin-Armistad. If the body is dead, the City Guard first contacts the Dispatcher’s Federation to see if there was a contract on the body. If there was a contract, and the assigned dispatcher performed the entombment, it was a legal entombment, but the City Guard will fine the Dispatcher’s Federation for littering.

If there were no contract, then it’s murder. If there was a contract, their next step was to determine if the dispatching agent who was assigned the contract was the person to perform the entombment. Even if there was a contract, if someone other than the contracted dispatcher killed the victim, then it was murder. This complex morass made it sound like the Dominus was both an assassin and a lawyer, which, sadly, was the case.

Torwin-Armistad is home to the Temple of Saehrimnir University, the preeminent university of magic and wizardry, home to nearly a thousand wizards, all of whom are involved in research and/or teaching. The university is not so much to advance the wizarding arts but to contain them. That is, to contain the wizards, not the magic. Intrinsic magic is free. It’s all around; it makes up the entire multiverse. Intrinsic magic is what makes the planet of Zigu as big as it is; it’s what keeps the planet of Kodu from flying apart when it passes Zigu nearby and Kodu’s core begins to shudder. Wizardry is merely the way men try to use the magic that is available and, most importantly, if what they did was successful, to record their steps so they can do it again.

In a moment of unambiguous thinking, the eight great orders of wizardry came together for the first time in nearly a century, united in a common cause. It had been brought to their attention that the most powerful wizard on Kodu wasn’t one of them. In fact, she didn’t even have the common decency to be a man, and they had to do something about it.

What they didn’t realize was that she was not a wizard except on paper. In truth, she was something completely different.

A representative from each of the eight mystic orders of wizardry had stepped forward to form a Wizard’s Octet, a magical grouping that hasn’t been seen on Kodu in centuries, The ancient prophecy said, ”Cum octo magi congregati erunt, nulla vis stare poterit.” In Torwin, it’s translated as, “When the wizards eight shall gather, no force can stand.”

They met in a dark basement room of the Temple of Saehrimnir around an eight-sided table. Eight cushioned chairs creaked as the assigned wizards sat down. Each chair had a mystic creature representing its mystic order carved into the dark wood of the chair’s back. For example, the Ancient Brothers of the Silver Star were represented by the Hircocervus, half stag and half goat. The Ancient Sages of the Unbroken Circle were represented by the Manticore, a four-legged animal with the body of a lion and the head of a man. The tail of the manticore shoots spikes at anyone who hunts it. The manticore is sheer fantasy, but the hircocervus is real; it’s rare, and it roams the Mons Sunas mountains.

The one mystic creature that was most desired by the wizards was not represented: the dragon. Every mystic order tried to adopt the dragon as its symbolic creature, but repeatedly they were denied. Quelthas the Eternal went to the temple to request the dragon as the mystic creature of The Last Order. After all, they were the first of the orders.

Saehrimnir replied, “Only the blessed ones may bear the dragon’s name. Only one shall be known by the sacred title of the Dragon. He, forged of my essence, slumbers now. Offer your gratitude for this mercy.”

Quelthas the Eternal asked another question of Saehrimnir. For being an extremely powerful god, Saehrimnir was a nice being, and Quelthas the Eternal enjoyed speaking with him… until he asked the second question he had to ask. “Lord Saehrimnir, who is the female wizard I hear about?”

”No female wizard exists, yet an enchantress graces the land with her presence.”

Enchantress! Terrified of what Saehrimnir said, Quelthas hurried down the flights of stairs into the subbasement room. Smoke filled the air as the wizards settled into their chairs and lit a pipe. They glared at each other in distrust and puffed their pipes filled with Ol’ Pappy’s Special Blend or Codger’s Famous Weed. Some preferred cigars with strange names like Hecho por Esclavos and Heces de Perro. Smoke rings became smoke cubes or parallelograms; puffs of smoke became mystic creatures. You could cut the tension (and the air) with a knife.

Finally, the meeting was brought to order by the leader of the senior order, the Last Order. “I spoke with Saehrimnir regarding the dragon,” said Quelthas the Eternal. Then he puffed on his clay pipe.

“I suppose the Last Order has the dragon as their mystic creature now?” asked Ernas Nythor of the Brotherhood of the Grand Allusion. Ernas was young, barely over sixty years old; he still hadn’t earned a title yet.

“No, the dragon is reserved for the son of Saehrimnir, both the title and the creature” said Quelthas the Eternal. “Saehrimnir said he slumbers now, and we should be grateful for that. Other than that, as far as I know, there are no golden dragons.”

“Two emperors of the Xuantang empire were killed by a golden dragon,” shouted Jemaex the Bringer. “How can you say that there are no golden dragons? Very clearly there are golden dragons.”

“According to Saehrimnir, there’s at least one,” said Quelthas the Eternal. “He was given his name by Saehrimnir. The god of Divine Fools clearly said, ‘Only the blessed ones may bear the dragon’s name. Only one shall be known by the sacred title of the Golden Dragon. He, forged of my essence, slumbers now. Offer your gratitude for this mercy.’”

The room erupted in an uproar of shouted, contradicting opinions. “You clearly asked Saehrimnir the wrong question!” shouted Xanin Flameborne of the Brothers of the Order of Midnight. “There’s Black, Brown, and Gray dragons. You clearly asked about the wrong dragons!”

“Why do you say that?” demanded Quelthas the Eternal. “What on Kodu makes you so arrogant to say something that stupid?”

“Because there are no golden dragons!” demanded Xanin Flameborne. “There hasn’t been a golden dragon for seven hundred years!”

“There is one!” came a shouted voice, and stepping out of the shadows came a young punk, either a wizard who fell into a box of razor blades and came out missing his beard, or he’s just too young to grow a beard. Either way, without the power of the whisker, he’s unequipped to be a proper wizard.

“Who are you, and why do you intrude where you were not invited,” demanded Anidalf Skyshaper of the Ancient Sages of the Unbroken Circle.

“My name isn’t as important as the news I bring.”

“Humor us,” said Jemaex, the Bringer of the Ancient Brothers of the Silver Star. Jemaex has been alive longer than many of the buildings on the Temple grounds have been around. “Share thy name young man.” He said, “young man” with just enough attitude to make it a vile insult.

“I am currently known as Horatio Tinsmith,” said the young wizard.

“And what were you known previously as?” asked Xanin Flameborne of the Brothers of the Order of Midnight.

“My father called me ‘You Son Of A Bitch,’” said Horatio. “It was his last words to me.”

“Before we start questioning the heritage of your mother, why are you here Mister Tinsmith?” asked Quelthas the Eternal with all the disdain of a teacher during finals week.

“I brought with me a witness to the slaying of the Emperor of Xuantang.” He gestured to the shadows, and two ogres brought forward a man bound in ropes and chains. The huge ogres gripped him tightly. “Tell them what you saw,” said Horatio.

The man was extremely plain. Except for the wounds and bruises he received in a recent beating; he could probably never be identified just by appearance. He looked like anyone and no one at the same time. “I saw an eagle chained to a perch in the courtroom of Emperor Hau Chung Fu, often called Fu Ki by his number one wife.”

Retosh Aurevi of the Mystics of the Autumn Stardance snorted. “Wife? Emperor Fu Ki was seven years old!”

“Yes, and he had seven wives,” said the mystery man. “He had four of them executed because they beat him at chess.”

“What about the eagle?” asked Quelthas the Eternal.

“I saw a flash of light come through the roof. It severed the eagle’s foot, the foot that wore a ring of Shonyx. When that happened, the eagle became a man for just a moment. Then it became a full size golden dragon and fell on the emperor and killed him instantly. The guards said the same thing happened to Fu Ki’s father.”

“Then what?”

The plain man shrugged and said, “the dragon returned to human form and things got very confused with people running in and out.”

“Do you know who the dragon was?”

“No,” said the plain man, but Horatio Tinsmith said, “I know him. It was Nick Stein, the commoner that claims to be the Duke of Wægn.”

Quelthas the Eternal frowned. He knew enough of the Duke of Wægn to know that he was a child of the gutter here in Torwin-Armistad, and Saehrimnir considered him a son. That makes everything that Saehrimnir said moot. The Duke is royalty; so, there’s nothing they can do to him, and being the son of Saehrimnir made the Duke doubly untouchable. And that also makes the main reason they were meeting moot. The wizard who is not a wizard is his wife. She’s above the rules of the eight brotherhoods. In fact, she can rewrite the rules of the eight brotherhoods… if she lives long enough. “Thank you, mister Tinsmith. That ends this meeting…”

“I thought you wanted to put an end to the enchantress,” said Horatio.

How did this punk find out about that? “If she is who we believe her to be, she’s untouchable. Being both royalty and a child of Saehrimnir, she’s beyond our touch. Our best plan is to not antagonize her and not stir her anger.”

“But we can get her now!” said Horatio. “We can do anything we want, and she can’t retaliate with magic.”

“What gives you that idea?” demanded Solvor the Shatter of the Venerable Council of Seers.

“She’s pregnant. She doesn’t dare use magic,” said Tinsmith with a grin. “She cannot retaliate.”

“Fine. Take your ogres and go,” demanded Quelthas the Eternal. This kid was bad news, attacking a woman with child? There are some things that even a power-hungry wizard should never stoop to.

“But! We can…”

“GO!” demanded Quelthas the Eternal. He grabbed Horatio’s arm and guided him to the door. “We’ll talk later,” said Quelthas softly. There are some things that even a power-hungry wizard should never stoop to… but that didn’t prevent them from encouraging someone else to do it.

As he slipped back into the shadows, Horatio Tinsmith found that the plain man was gone and the two ogres that had been holding him were dead.

<><><><><>

Dark plans were afoot elsewhere in the city. Meetings were being held at The Bent Flute, a tavern that was once the central watering hole of the underworld in Torwin-Armistad. “Knifing a knight every night at the Flute” was the old motto which brought far too many violent people through the door. The old gang moved on to new watering holes and left The Bent Flute with a crowd of young workers who didn’t want to waste their energy stabbing people. Occasionally a band played on weekends, and the weekend crowds gave The Bent Flute the reputation of being a reputable pub. The ground floor bar was where the younger crowd congregated; the dank pub in the basement was where the dank old-timers sat and commiserated in their beer.

They stationed a live troll at the door to keep rowdy troublemakers out and admit the more respectable troublemakers. Inside, several humans and goblins waited tables and helped maintain order on weekends when the tourist trade was at its peak. The Bent Flute was the most reputable disreputable pub in Torwin-Armistad, and the most popular. There’re still beatings and stabbings, but these are thoughtful men who courteously step outside before commencing their beating.

In a dark corner of the basement pub, there were two dark booths. In one booth, a conversation was being held between a very plain-looking customer and Scrimshaw Luke, while in the other booth, a dark figure studied his beer intently. Scrimshaw Luke was the top Cribs player in Torwin-Armistad and carried a scoreboard carved from whale bone. Nobody beat Luke. In fact, everybody owed him money from losing to the daft-looking savant. The natural desire of people not to be recognized by Luke and have to cough up payment ensured privacy as the conversation continued.

“That gal got herself in serious trouble,” said the Plain-Looking Customer. “She was the court wizard in the kingdom of Uduithia, but her hubby got himself made the Emperor of the Xuantang empire, now the thieves guild wants to take advantage of the situation and make off with all that Xuantang gold while there’s a Torwin-Armistad boy on the throne.”

“Buggerit,” grumbled Scrimshaw Luke as he sipped his beer with a loud slurp.

“The wizards aren’t happy that she calls herself a wizard and they’re looking to do something about it. They even formed a committee. They just found out that she’s in the family way and plan to take advantage of it,” said the Plain-Looking Customer. “What kind of powers is that baby going to have?”

“Buggerit,” repeated Scrimshaw Luke as he began to eat the peanuts, shells and all. He was hungry and tired of waiting for his promised steak dinner.

“It’s said that the witches are up in arms about her hubby bein’ a witch and a guy at the same time, some say the witches are going to try to nab her babe soon as it’s born to force him to renounce his position of witch in Elm Springs.”

“Buggerit.”

“Did you get all of that?” asked the Plain-Looking Customer.

The intended listener of the conversation was actually in the other booth, sitting with his back to the Plain-Looking Customer, listening intently. He replied with a sad, “Yep.” The intended listener, Ned Darby, commander of the Torwin-Armistad City Guard, got up and left the pub. His bodyguards followed him at a discrete distance as he pondered what trouble those poor kids in Elm Springs got themselves into.

<><><><><>֍<><><><><>

Chapter 03 - Nana’s Cottage

Once again the baby began his little dance in her womb, and Octavia Stein wished she could share this with her husband, but he had finally got to sleep, and she couldn’t bring herself to wake him. For weeks, he was trapped in the body of an eagle, slowly losing himself in the eagle’s mind. A ring of Shonyx on his leg prevented him from using magic and returning to human form, so he sat day after day on a perch, starving himself to death while Octavia searched in vain for him. She still remembers the agony that went through her mind when she realized what she was going to have to do to free her husband, and from a third of the planet away she shot off his leg, freeing him from that ring and allowing him to change forms.

She remembered the terror she felt as she flew as fast as she could from the peak of Black Mountain to the Temple of the Woods at the base of the mountain where she could dash through the tunnel to the throne room where he was held captive, terrified that he would be dead. When she got there, he was in a pool of blood, but most of it wasn’t his blood. It was the blood of the deranged child emperor that taunted and tortured him and, at the same time, tortured his entire empire for a year. The lad was standing right there when Nick became an enormous dragon as the kid desired, then starving and weak, Nick collapsed on the kid. Thank the gods that a fellow prisoner, Bughac Orebeard, applied a tourniquet to Nick’s leg and saved Nick’s life.

He was finally home in their cottage, which had welcomed him home with cool breezes on the porch and evenings in front of a warm fire. Octavia pulled herself up close to Nick. He was still skin and bones from refusing to eat. She made a note to make chicken and dumplings for dinner. That should help. Just now, she wanted to share the miracle that was dancing inside her womb and pressed her belly against his back. She hoped against hope that he could feel the baby moving. “That’s our son,” she whispered. Nick must have heard it because he relaxed.

Then she noticed what most pregnant women notice at a tender moment like this: she had to pee. Damnit. There’s a bucket with a lid that Ellie Grady, a girl who works at the Emporium, gave her, but she didn’t want that. She’ll save that for later as she eased out of bed and headed for the “two holer” out back. Thanks to her magic, it’s the only heated outhouse in the Kingdom of Uduithia. It’s almost as good as indoor plumbing.

The moment she climbed down the stairs, she noticed that her wizard’s staff was beginning to move. Made of Prudent Oak, her staff contains the wisdom of the ages and has a constant urge to protect her. It was a gift from the god of Divine Fools, Saehrimnir. It absorbed magic from Octavia, the most powerful magic user in the house, and from Tervis, the most powerful magical item in the house. Tervis was Nick’s cane that was given to him by the goddess Saatus, goddess of Fate, and Octavia discovered Tervis was incredibly powerful. When Octavia walked past, Virga felt the need to protect her and the new life growing in her, and Nick was not helping her. It was time to have a talk with Nick.

Virga grew legs and worked its way out of the oliphant foot umbrella stand. Virga had become a walking stick that could walk along with you as you walked. It made its way across the first floor of the cottage and crept upstairs. Virga was not small, in her shape as a wizard’s staff it was six feet tall with a big wooden knob on the top, the knob was as big around as a lawn bowling ball, but as it neared the bed on its tiny legs it leaned over Nick and the ball on the top opened revealing what looked like a giant eye, because it actually was a huge eyeball, the Orb of Jørn, an ancient Dwarven artifact. The eyeball was pure white ivory; the iris was deep blue lapis lazuli, and the pupil was deep black Obsidian and it could see so much more than a human can see.

Octavia put on a robe and slippers that were stationed next to the back door just for this occasion, cursing the fact that at one point in her life she had been blessed to live in a building with indoor plumbing, and now it was just a fond memory. As she stepped outside to the outhouse, Nick was startled awake by a disembodied eyeball the size of a large man’s fist staring at him in the gloom, floating over the bed and looking down at him. “I figured it out,” whispered the eyeball as it glared at Nick. Virga was upset because it figured out the meaning of the name that Nick had given it. “Virga means stick!”

Screaming in horror, Nick threw his pillow at the ghastly apparition, and the pillow wrapped itself around the terrifying specter. As the eyeball struggled against the pillow, Nick discovered that the eyeball was on a stick… a stick with feet! He grabbed another pillow and threw it, and the pillow wrapped around the base of the stick, wrapping up its feet. The stick fell and lay across Nick, and the terror was overwhelming to Nick. He couldn’t hold back…

The screams of the tropical bird Gula startled Octavia. Gula was madly in love with Nick and very protective of him; her open beak shouts of “IIIIIK! IIIIIK!” (Nick! Nick!) told Octavia that something was wrong with Nick. She dashed into the house and hearing a roar and a snarl and muffled screams for help, Octavia raced up the steep stairs to find her wizard’s staff wrapped up in pillows and a blanket while a huge black Sadhana Tiger stood on the bed roaring at the staff. “Virga, calm down! Stop moving and talking. You scared him.”

“Scared him? Look at what he did to me!”

“Virga, stop it or I’ll let you experience what he went through for months.” For a few seconds, Octavia set Virga in the hell that Nick went through, stuck in an eagle’s body, chained to a perch, a ring made of Shonyx sapping his strength. The staff stopped struggling, and Octavia turned to the huge, snarling cat on their bed that was still crouched and ready to spring.

“Ssshhhh, ssshhhh, it’s ok darling, there was no threat, it was just OUR staff showing you her new eye.” Octavia emphasized the word OUR to remind Virga that she serves both masters in this house. Octavia’s walking stick never really got along with Nick. Virga almost got him killed in Bovuka, and Octavia hoped that they would have gotten along better by now, considering everything they’ve been through.

Guess not.

Octavia gently touched the black cat. He was huge, beautiful, and terrified. “Sssshhhh, ssshhhh, it’s ok darling,” she slipped off her robe and her nightdress so the cat could see that it’s her. She wanted him to see that she’s no threat, and she wasn’t hiding anything under her robe. The tiger began to sniff Octavia and occasionally lick with his sandpaper tongue here and there. Octavia gently stroked the big cat’s soft, plushy fur. “Such a pretty kitty!” He was an incredibly beautiful, big cat. His black fur had blue highlights in the candlelight, and the only color on him was the left eye, which was solid gold, and the key-shaped tuft of silver hair on his chest between his massive forelegs.

“Come on, cuddle with me,” she said as she slid sinuously into bed. Even preceded by a baby bump, she was the sweetest, sexiest thing that Nick had ever seen. Even in his terrified state, he could see through his fear and see that the woman whom he loved was next to him, unafraid. She hugged him and said, “Come on, you big fluffy thing, come snuggle with me.” She wrapped her arms around the two-hundred-pound beast and rubbed its tummy, and soon the rumbling of a giant feline’s purring filled the room.

The purring vibrated through her body, and the sensations that were coursing through her were overwhelming. Tigers purr when they’re content and feel safe, and this was making Octavia feel content and safe along with the tiger.

It was so relaxing to have her Nick back, even though he was in the body of a Sadhana tiger. He was warm and soft, and even though he’s not the Nick she married, she could feel Nick deep inside the tiger. She remembered their first wedding day; the day he married Ziska, and she married King Alfrich. She was so brokenhearted that she married a man like Alfrich, and he felt something horrible was going to happen. Nick… Pommy was so brave and proud in his uniform, and later that evening when he took her in his arms to dance, she felt somehow that they were always meant to be together. She felt that no matter what happened; she was safe in his arms. “Thank you for coming home to me,” she whispered.

As Nick relaxed, the pillows and blankets that were wrapped around Virga loosened and fell off, and Nick slowly relaxed his grip on the tiger’s body. Octavia drifted off to sleep as she clutched her huge black cat. She almost didn’t notice him change slowly back to Nick. “Thank you for saving me,” he whispered hoarsely, “again.” Then the pain and terror of being trapped in a body that wasn’t his returned, and he shuddered, trying desperately to hold back the scream that was trying to work its way out.

“Shhh, don’t. If you start crying, I’ll start crying,” she whispered, but it was too late and the horror was too real. They were both in tears, clutching each other tightly, holding on to the only thing that felt secure and grounded. “I love you so much,” said Nick in a whisper. “I knew you were looking for me. I knew if you found me I would be rescued… but I was so alone. That crazy, selfish little bastard kept taunting me. He was so selfish that he ignored what he was told. Then Buggy showed up, I tried to talk to him… drove Buggy crazy, an eagle squawking at a captured dwarf. It was so awful.”

“It’s over now, we’re both home.”

Nick was silent for a long time, then said, “I want to go sailing.”

Octavia moaned at the memories - on the run from General Steinhauer’s forces, in a stolen sailboat far out to sea… it was so peaceful as they sat becalmed, and they would occasionally slip into the water to cool off. “That’s the first time I saw your cock,” she said happily.

“What did you think?” asked Nick.

“It scared me,” said Octavia. “I had only seen baby boys before that… and you had this big old… thing. And you were going to put that in me? I was sure it wouldn’t fit.”

“I miss the Telepta Queen,” said Nick softly. The Telepta Queen was a cargo barge on the River Arn, and they signed on as a mule skinner and cook. Octavia didn’t know how to cook, but she followed Nick’s directions and made food the crew enjoyed. Nick got to work with mules, something he’s always loved. He always considered mules to be the most intelligent members of the equine family.

Octavia sighed. “Me too, that was so wonderful.” On the run from General Steinhauer’s forces, they thought the Royal Mounted Guard was after them too. There was no one they could trust. Disguised as a middle-aged couple, they snuggled together in their bunk every night, finding comfort in the closeness. “If you had chosen to take me while we were on the run and awaiting trial, I would not have stopped you,”

“I couldn’t,” said Nick. “You were not mine to take. If you chose to leave I could not stop you…” This was always the sad part.

“I wouldn’t leave you,” said Octavia as she snuggled closer to Nick, warming herself against him.

“King Ranzau could have ordered me executed for touching you.” It was a dangerous game he played. Octavia was raised to marry royalty, which made her a form of royalty even before marriage. In a kingdom like Breaze, Teurnia, or Elbreshowth, Nick could have been executed for touching her without permission from a royal. “I don’t know how I could have survived the pain in your eyes watching me ascend to the gallows.”

“They would have had to hang me along with you,” said Octavia. He rolled over, and they cuddled face to face. “It’s odd,” she said, “but the first day I saw you I knew that you were the man I needed to marry. Me and my childbearing hips.”

Nick gazed into her eyes and broke into a smile. “You really read my thoughts?”

“I couldn’t avoid them,” said Octavia. “I walked into the kings parlor and as he addressed me, all you could think of was my childbearing hips.”

“That was to keep my mind off your tits.”

“You knew,” said Octavia as she gently kissed his chest. “You knew that I could read your thoughts but you did nothing. You knew that I could read the kings thoughts and you could have killed me for being a security risk, but you didn’t sense that form of danger in me.”

“I asked Ziska to buddy up with you and find out if there was a threat.”

“The only threat to King Alfrich was Ziska fucking him to d…” She saw the look of betrayal in Nick’s eyes. “I’m sorry, I forgot.”

“No… I should have known. I prided myself on security and found myself engaged to the largest security risk in the kingdom.”

Octavia felt horrible for bringing that up; she couldn’t imagine the shame Nick felt knowing that his fiancée was fucking the king. She could read his feelings about Ziska if she wanted, but she chose not to. “I used her sword on Black Mountain.”

“It’s not her sword, it’s yours.” Nick gave Octavia a kiss. “The scrollwork clearly says, ‘To My Queen.’”

“Don’t be silly,” said Octavia. “I was there when he received them from the sword smith. It clearly said, ‘To my Defender.’ He was going to promote Ziska to his personal bodyguard.”

“I guess we know why,” muttered Nick. “When I hung it over the fireplace, the scrollwork clearly said, to my queen.”

Octavia shook her head and said, “Let me show you.” She went downstairs and over to the fireplace where she added a few more pieces of wood, then pulled the swords down from the mantel and examined them, one was clearly engraved to say “To my Captain” the other said “To my queen.” She carried them upstairs and joined Nick in bed. “What do they say?”

Nick examined his sword. He knew which sword was his without looking at the blade; the knuckle bow and the quillon were both scarred from fighting his way out of the ambush on Mystara 11, 3430, the night Breaze fell, a year and a half ago. His sword master used to accuse him of using the hilt of the sword as a hammer. He flipped the blade so he could read the etching, and it clearly said, “Sir Nicholas Stein, Duke of Wægn. Mystara 12, 3431.” Nick was stunned speechless. It used to say, “To My Captain,” He was sure of that.

Octavia looked at the other sword. It clearly was engraved with the words, “To My Queen.” She smiled and handed the sword to Nick. “Now read this one,” said Octavia. Nick took the other, and it clearly said, “Dame Octavia Stein, Duchess of Wægn. Mystara 12, 3431” He handed it back and said, “Where did this come from?”

“You’re so silly,” said Octavia as she took the sword and looked at it, and gasped. “It… it said to my queen,” she looked at Nick in shock. “How did you do that?”

“This is not something I can do… I think.” Nick shrugged. Two years ago, he was just a witch, filled with simple, natural magic. He could identify healing herbs, diagnose children, scent traps, and push ripeness on fruit picked too soon. He could heal farm animals, enlist the aid of a wild animal, and ease the nerves of a woman in labor. This was the magic a witch carried. Then the god of Divine Fools, Saehrimnir, dumped centuries of knowledge on him. Then he received amazing magic from the book Vanemate Rasside Jõud, which let him become another animal form, but magically etch a Mithril/Steel sword? The combination of mithril and steel should repel magic. “I can’t do anything like this.”

Octavia held the sword and concentrated. There was magic involved here, but it wasn’t hers or Nick’s. It appears that King Alfrich purchased enchanted blades. “We should take these to Izhar. I don’t want a spell to kick off at the wrong time.”

Nick took the swords back and hung them over the fireplace, then, for some reason, exhaustion overcame him and he sagged to the floor. He was too exhausted to get up; the horrors of being trapped and sold overwhelmed him. “Teivas, come here.” The black staff rose slowly out of the umbrella stand and drifted across the room to Nick.

Octavia waited, and when Nick didn’t come back, she went to find him. She wrapped a blanket around herself and went downstairs to find Nick on the floor in front of the fireplace trying to get up using Teivas as a crutch. He was trembling, and she couldn’t tell if it was anger or sorrow. She came up behind him quietly, wrapped her blanket around the two of them, and they sagged to the floor. “Here is fine,” Octavia said.

They cuddled and kissed, but Nick trembled and fought against the inner demons that tormented him. It wasn’t just the loss of life; it was the terror that the men and women of Black Mountain had to bear. “I need to get back to work,” said Nick. “I’m neglecting my royal duties, and my husbandly duties.”

“You’re recovering,” insisted Octavia. “Relax. Heal.” Those were the words Nick used with all his patients.

“Can you watch the clinic before going to Xuantang tomorrow?” asked Nick. “I want to speak with Saatus.”

Octavia sighed. He needed to speak to that goddess; he had so many inner demons stirring up his soul. “I can do that. Be kind up there.”

“Now, to care for you,” said Nick as he moved his leg to a pain-free position.

Octavia pushed him back down. “I just need kitty right now.”

“Kitty,” repeated Gula.

Soon Octavia was snuggling with Kitty, positive that Nick was on the mend.