Ch. 8

 

8

Max came in Spinner’s study to find Gwendolyn bending over the map that had been on the wall in the Guard’s Headquarters but was now on a table. He had to admit to himself that despite her scar and annoying attitude, Gwendolyn wasn’t all that unattractive, even though she covered herself from neck to toe, revealing absolutely nothing.

He also noticed, with a small amused smile, that Spinner was standing awfully close to the foul tempered woman and neither seemed to notice.

Clearing his throat Max walked further into the room, stopping on the opposite side of the table, “I remember hearing we’d meet at the gates at midday, Gwendolyn. Am I not correct?”

“You are, but being foreign to the city Gwendolyn didn’t know which gate we meant. Now, if you’re quite done trying to pick a fight, we’ve a vote to place.”

Before Spinner could explain the sides Gwendolyn interrupted, “Apologies Spinner, but this will be faster without elegant talk.” She paused a moment, composing her thoughts, “I think Rosalyn and Neil are going to the Wing’s Tower. Spinner thinks otherwise. In order to decide where we’re going we need to know where you think they’re going.”

“So, I’m the tie breaker?”

“You are, Max, but you must listen to both of our reasons before making your decision.”

Reluctantly Max agreed and, as Gwendolyn explained herself after Spinner, he found himself strangely drawn towards Gwendolyn’s theory. “While I don’t believe Neil to be Beau, I do find Gwendolyn’s reasoning more persuasive. I hate to agree with her, but I feel Rosalyn’s destination is the Wing’s Tower.”

“I can’t believe it, the block head actually understands proper reasoning.”

“Now, wait just one…”

“Hold, Max, what she said is no insult.”

“Exactly, I was only saying you’re not as stupid as you look.”

Interrupting Max’s retaliation, Spinner pointed to the map, “To business, comrades, we’ve much distance to cover.” They stood over the map for two or three hours before finally choosing a route to take then, with reminders to meet within the hour at the main gate, parted ways to gather supplies.

Gwendolyn rode her show-off of a speckled steed to the inn she had been staying in even though only a quarter of the way there, she got the sense of being watched. Dismissing the feeling to nerves, she continued her way on.

She had just about made it out of the door with her belongings when the inn keeper and a couple regulars called for her to sing. Gwendolyn, just the last night, had drunk a little too much and had found herself singing for the entertainment of the guests. Although it ended in a night and morning of free food and drink, she ruefully regretted it.

Plastering on an ever so sweet expression she turned around towards the men, “Ever so sorry, fellows, but I’m on an exceedingly urgent schedule. Maybe next time I swing through.”

Suddenly an arm was wrapped around her shoulders and she was pulled close, “I admit this is quite unlike myself,” the man whispered in her ear, “but word on the street is you put a lovely ring to the night with your voice, so I find myself longing to hear such a sound.” Following the man’s act to satisfy a strange urge Gwendolyn leaned a little closer to him and looked up with large, green eyes. Surprised but masking it well, she smiled and Spinner benignly.

“It would seem, good fellows, that I have come upon another who wishes for a song,” she turned her gaze to the men still waiting, her eyes smoldering with seducement, “Do you still wish for a song, men?”

A great “Aye!” was shouted in assent.

“Then let me get ready,” she laughed at the disheartened looks all around, “Relax, boys, it will take only a moment.” Gwendolyn slipped out of Spinner’s arm and patted him on the shoulder, then walked away, managing a heating sway in men’s garb, only stopped to ask a young woman to accompany her into the library. In a moment a couple of fiercely blushing men walked out and not long after Gwendolyn emerged, completely transformed.

The scar had vanished from her face beneath a layer of powder and other make-up added a smoky green upon her eyes. Gwendolyn’s hair had come out of its braid to cascade around her shoulders and instead of men’s clothing she wore a low cut dress that hung on every perfect curve in the most glorious manner.

Her skin looked ravishingly golden with the dark forest green of her dress and the dark brown of her hair. Her sway in men’s clothing was enticing but as she glided across the floor every part of her body was moving in exactly the right way to make every man there swoon in ecstasy.

Spinner stood stock still while Gwendolyn mounted the make shift stage of sturdy tables and he remained still as her voice, lifting and sinking in song, swirled around him.

Gwendolyn sang a song of creation, a song full of heart’s torment, in a pained and beautiful voice, created in ages past by an oracle, powerless to stop herself from changing the world. She knew not if it would be for better or for worse but she knew two things that made her destiny path agonizing. The oracle’s one and true love, she had to leave to die by the hands of the one she was to sing with.

Her lover’s killer was an all powerful god who had demanded she sing him into creation wings made from Time itself but in a life of immortality he had much time to wonder why he was miserable when he had the skies and life grasped in his merciless hand. It occurred to him that, like mere mortals, he could not live happily alone forever.

He called upon the oracle again, she had a new face but her soul and mind were immortal, and this time he asked for her to sing into existence a new life for himself and her alone. But she refused, sending the god into a rage.

He blamed this disobedience on her love for a dead man and on her hope for his soul to be reborn. The angry god sought to squash all hope from her, so she could be his without question. Soon every living being was eliminated from the world.

The oracle watched all life fade away and her tears fell for many months until finally she stopped, revenge filling her every thought.

The god felt appeased as she set to work creating the song for their new life and when she finished he felt no need to check her work. How could the oracle defy an almighty god?

Before they began their joining she asked if she could sing one song for his entertainment. Before he was done nodding his consent she was singing, words twisting around in the air and around the god. The oracle finished her song and try as he might, the god could not control his own body.

She watched him in silence then started to sing her song of creation and, not by any choice of his own, the god sang in perfect harmony.

On the last orgasmic note the god was ripped away from the world, trying to cry out with all his might but only managed to finish the song.

The oracle lasted only moments longer, lying on the soft green of the ground, her back arched and her body glowing brighter and brighter by the second. Her moment ended in triumph for she knew that the seemingly perfect Gamic people would in time Fall and from those reared by those reared and so on would be born the man she had loved life times ago. And, by all the power of her being, they would meet again and be together in every lifetime after.

For many generations the Gamic people walked on the ground and flew through the skies, oblivious to their own demise. Greed would tear them apart as it would tear everyone, even the gods.

Gwendolyn’s song came to an end, sweat glistening on her exposed skin, and Spinner, lost in the gaze that never left him, was left wondering who this woman could be.

After the initial awe and shock the whole inn erupted in cheering and begging, some on their knees, for her to sing again but she only gave them a tired smile as she descended from the stage.

The audience swarmed her when her feet had barely touched the floor but Spinner had found his way to her side before any of them could lay a hand on her exhausted body. He whisked her away into the confines of the first empty room he could find, bolting the door and laying her on the sole bed.

Spinner knew he couldn’t leave her alone but both of them should have been out of the gates long ago with Max. Somehow he had to get word to him, but just how he was going to, Spinner couldn’t imagine. He sat there gazing at Gwendolyn’s sleeping face wondering what he should do when there was a rapping at the window.

Max hung there, waiting for the window to be opened, when Spinner finally did Max swung in, complaining profusely about the sharp edge of the sill, “I mean seriously, what’s more important? Some broad, a sleeping one I might add, or the fingers on my hand?”

“That ‘some broad’ is not just some broad and is not sleeping.”

Max stared at the woman now sitting up in bed, with her eyebrow arched, reminding him of a certain foul wench.

“I brought your things up. You can change now, if you like.”

“Thank you, Spinner.”

“We’ll be just outside your door.”

“Could you get the back,” she stood, turning around and looked over her shoulder, “before you leave? If you don’t mind, that is.”

He hesitated a moment before coming up behind he to find the zipper stuck fast. Spinner gingerly placed the palm of his hand on the edge of the dress, his fingers touching the soft flesh of her shoulder to keep the cloth from moving as he muscled the resilient zipper down. It came to an end at the beginning of a long row of clasps which Spinner slowly undid.

His heads worked lower and lower until the last clasp was opened on the small of Gwendolyn’s back. Spinner stepped back and averted his eyes as she slipped the dress form her shoulders, “I’m going to change now, Spinner.”

“Right,” he said in a husky voice, turning away to see Max smirking at Spinner’s obvious discomfort.

“Come along, Spinner. We mustn’t make the lady undress herself before an audience.” Max swung an arm around the much taller man’s shoulder and led him out the door, holding back a much amused laughter.

Before the door had even closed Max could hold back no longer, “You’re like a little boy with woman, Spinner! To see that behavior from such a big man is hilarious!”

The whole time Spinner and Max waited, Max was poking fun at his friend’s lack of familiarity with women as well as completely oblivious to the dressing woman’s identity. It came as a fairly large surprise when Gwendolyn opened the door, “I suppose you could guess why I don’t dress like that for everyday business, but it seemed fitting.”

As Max stood with his jaw dropped in stunned silence, Spinner gruffly patted him on the back with a grin he saved for the perfect moment spread across his face. “It is certainly a skill worth saving, Gwendolyn. I imagine you’d have quite the tribe at your heels.”

Max raised a finger sullenly, “Wait a moment…” but they continued talking over him.

“Do you think there’s another way out of here? I don’t believe I can exit by way of the door, there still seems to be a crowd down there, judging from the noise.”

“And all of them are male fans certainly hoping you’re not taken by a stronger person. Our friend here,” Spinner lifted a hand towards Max, “found an interesting entry and it was that window over yonder.”

“How could I have forgotten, he made such an entry speech. Shall we?”

“We shall,” he agreed with a nod. Without as much as a look at Max they reentered the room and climbed out the window. It took a moment for Max to realize their departure and to take off after them.

He finally caught up with them at a fountain several blocks away from the inn and when they took one look at him, they burst into helpless laughter. “Oh, yes, laugh at me all you like. I don’t mind in the least.”

“Cheer up, Max,” Spinner managed in gasps between out bursts. At first Max was able to hold his sullen and deflated mood but thinking back to the inn’s scene soon had him roaring with laughter. Although the passer bys numbered high and were full of bewildered looks, cheered looks or ‘they must be drunk’ looks, the three continued to laugh for quite some time. Eventually though, as all good things do, the laughing dwindled off and they all sat on the edge of the fountain, wiping away merrily shed tears.

“Would someone please tell me how you knew where I was staying?” Gwendolyn said grinning at the both of them.

“I…watched you with a hawk,” Spinner confessed rather speedily.

Max only shrugged, “I followed Spinner.”

“And why was I followed?”

When Spinner didn’t respond Max gave another shrug, “I wanted to know where he was going because he went in the opposite direction of his room, saw that he was using the gem and wanted to know who he was watching. Hence my following.”

Spinner, once again, didn’t respond so Gwendolyn made a guess, “For some reason you don’t understand, you felt compelled to do so?”

He nodded half-heartedly, “More or less, yes.”

“I think,” Max shifted uncomfortably, “this is a conversation no meant for my ears.” And without delay he was gone to do who knows what.

“I do have a guess on the matter but I want to ask something first.” Gwendolyn shrugged and he took it as permission to ask anything he liked, “Why did you sing that song?”

“Like you, it was not an ignorable compulsion.”