Chapter 345 - The Body Politic part 3

I brought my hand up and flexed my fingers experimentally. I had the feeling that it wasn't the right size, that it was too fat, the fingers too short, and a shiver of anxiety worked its way down my spine. My arms, too, felt too short and thick. I flexed the bicep of my right arm, waved the entire limb around in a circle. It all just felt so wrong, and I wondered if I was stuck with this unpleasant feeling of wrongness until I was restored to my original body.

"Gon?" Zenzele said.

I tried to stand and fell forward onto my face. As Zenzele leant in to assist me, I reached out to her and jammed my fingers into her cheek. I lost my balance and tumbled sideways onto my shoulder. Everyone looked horrified by my flailing about—all except Bhorg, who burst out laughing. I tried to push myself up and flung myself into the wall instead. Embarrassed and frightened, I appealed to Zenzele. "Send them away, my love," I said through gritted teeth. "Just for a little while. Just until I get used to this new body."

My (Yul's) entire body was tingling, like a million tiny ants were crawling over it. At the same time, Yul's memories batted at my mind. Faces I did not know. Places I have never been. I could hear him in my head, snarling in outrage at the theft of his body, cursing me, trying to override my thoughts. As Zenzele ushered our friends from our living quarters, Yul seized control of my legs for a moment and they began to kick spasmodically, sending me flopping across the floor. I wrested command from him almost immediately, but it was still frightening to lose control like that, even for an instant. Sitting up, I put my head in my hands and closed my eyes. I am the master. I am in control, I thought, pushing back against the faces, the voices, the memories, pushing them down into the deeper recesses of my mind, where I hoped to lock them away.

Zenzele returned. She had sent the others away. "Gon, my love," she said.

I took my hands from my head to look at her, and for a moment it was like looking at a stranger. For a moment, I didn't recognize her. I had looked up expecting to see my daughter. Her name was Yanwe. Yanwe, I thought, where is Yanwe? And then I returned to myself, and a bolt of pure terror juddered through me. Yanwe was Yul's daughter, not mine.

I am Gon, son of Gan! Gon!

Zenzele must have seen the stricken look on my face for she knelt beside me, cupping my cheek in her hand. "Gon, are you all right?" And then, with a deepened frown, "It is you, isn't it?"

"Yes, my love, it is me," I said.

Even my voice was different. Yul's neck was shorter than my own, and that caused my voice to have a higher pitch. It sounded like the voice of an adolescent boy. I would have found it comical if it weren't so horrifying.

"It is difficult," I said, speaking haltingly. "I have asserted my dominance as you advised me to do, but Yul's personality is strong. It is like a predator circling outside the light of a campfire, waiting for me to lower my guard. His blood is not mixing well with mine, I think. His thoughts keep creeping into my mind. His… identity."

Zenzele took my hands in hers. "I was afraid of this," she said. "We drained as much of his potashu as we dared. We thought it would make it easier. I felt the same when we put my head on his body. His thoughts kept intruding into my mind. His memories."

I looked down at her hands and felt a flash of hatred for her—traitorous bitch!—that was not my hatred. Yul had known Zenzele, of course. She was one of the God King's slavers when Yul was made a vampire. He had even tried to seduce her once or twice over the years, but the untamable Zenzele had always rebuffed his overtures. Even so, Yul was incredibly shocked when she betrayed their king for me. He still found it hard to believe.

I am Gon. Son of Gan…

"I need to feed," I said, removing my hands from hers. I was reluctant to look at her face, afraid of how I would feel when I did. How he would make me feel.

"All right," she said. "Would you like to go down to Penthos with me, or would you rather I bring some blood up here to you?"

I tried to rise, lost my balance and sat down hard. "Perhaps it would be better…"

"I'll be back in a moment," Zenzele said.

I waited until she was gone and then crawled to the wall. Leaning on the wall for support, I got to my feet. Like a toddling child, I thought. I pushed away from the wall and took three shambling steps, then went reeling across the cavern and fell to my hands and knees. Frustrated, I tried to hop up and launched myself headfirst into the wall. I struck my head hard enough to make my teeth clack together.

Oh, ancestors!

I rolled onto my back, laughing and rubbing my throbbing skull.

That was how Zenzele found me when she returned: sprawled on my back, laughing like a maniac. "Gon," she said.

She had brought another gourd. I could smell the mortal blood in it. Fresh hot blood. My stomach turned into a bag of snakes at the smell of it. I hadn't been this hungry since the night I was made an immortal. Grinning up ruefully at Zenzele, I rubbed my stomach to sooth the pain.

My stomach. Yul's stomach…

"I've not gone mad," I said, still chuckling a little. "At least, I don't believe I have. I'm not sure. I've never had my head ripped off and placed on the body of another immortal. It's strange."

"It is only for a little while," Zenzele said. "Aioa is gathering the pieces of your true body as we speak. Soon we will restore you to your rightful form and then we can do away with this… this thing once and for all."

"My grandchild Aioa," I said. I remembered cradling her in my arms. Kissing her baby fine hair. How small she was then. How fragile. "She is well protected?" I asked.

"She has an escort of very powerful blood drinkers," Zenzele said. "One of them is an Eternal, though Irema tells me her sister has found another piece of your body and has sent the Eternal back here with it. She believes it is an arm."

"It is not so horrible, is it?" I asked.

"What?"

"This body. Yul's body." I sat up and looked at her, steeling myself for some interior outburst, but Yul's Blood did not cry out at the sight of her. She was Zenzele, my fierce and beautiful lover, not the traitor that Yul saw when he beheld her with my eyes.

Zenzele looked at me suspiciously. "Why do you ask?"

"It has been two years since I've held you in my arms," I said. "Since I've had arms to hold you."

She looked me up and down. I could see the revulsion the thought inspired in her. I could see it in her face, the way her mouth went thin and taut, her expression carefully neutral. The thought of being held by these arms, of being penetrated by this cock, repulsed her. I was both pleased and dismayed by her distaste, but what if my real body was never completely recovered? What if I was doomed to this form forever? It was the body of another man, but my thoughts, my soul, my love were my own.

She met my gaze and then smiled. There were a lot of emotions behind it, but it was still a smile. "I should have known that would be the first thing you thought of."

I grinned back, relieved. "It has been two whole years."

Zenzele sighed the long-suffering sigh of the satyr's wife. She approached, held out the gourd. "First thing's first, lover. Drink. You need to recover your strength. You need to get accustomed to this new body. I cannot have you reeling about like a drunkard when Khronos attacks again."

"Did he attack while I was gone?" I asked, taking the gourd from her hand.

"No," Zenzele said. "He lost many warriors in our last battle. And then he had you to keep him entertained."

"Yes," I said with a scowl. "I think he was satisfied with that for a while. I could see much of the city from where they hung me on the wall. I did not observe any large military movements while I was there. There was a slave uprising, but they put it down quickly. Do you think he will attack again, now that I've been liberated?"

"I'm certain he will," Zenzele sighed. She arranged some furs on the floor and sat down across from me. "The real question is, how soon? I would like to know, but I cannot send out my Eye without the God King harassing me. The moment I look to Uroboros, Khronos attacks. Now that Irema is back, I should be able to use my far sight again. When she is here, Khronos cannot sense my spirit form. Tomorrow night, I will send out my Eye and check on the movements of our enemy's forces. See if he plans to attack us soon."

I yanked the stopper from the gourd and sniffed the contents. "This is very fresh," I said, looking at her questioningly.

"The mortals sell their blood at the temple in exchange for a drop of the ebu potashu," she said. "The bloodletting has become a necessity, I'm afraid. There are so many of us now it is a challenge to feed our people, mortal and immortal alike."

I nodded. I didn't like it, but what alternative did we have? I tried to bring the opening of the gourd to my lips and splashed my chin and neck with blood. Zenzele reached out to help but I waved her away. "I can do it," I said. It helped to look at the limb as I moved it, guiding it by sight. I brought the gourd to my lips and tilted it up, moving with exaggerated care. This time I did not spill it, and the blood poured out upon my tongue. It had thickened slightly, but it was warm and delicious. I drank greedily then, and set the gourd aside with a belch. I felt Yul stir at the taste of the blood but suppressed the alien personality without mercy, quashing it beneath a mental heel, like an insect.

You will stay down!

He howled in complaint but I ignored the psychic cry.

I closed my eyes and smacked my lips, relishing the taste of the blood, the smell of it in my nostrils. I could feel the warmth rippling out from my belly, threading its way through my new limbs, even to the tips of my fingers and toes. That scintillating flush glided up my neck like liquid sunshine, nourishing the long-starved tissues. As the Strix healed my neglected brain cells, my thoughts grew quicker and more nimble. The hunger abated, and the pain and irksome tingling of my new body grew just a little more bearable.

I opened my eyes and smiled at Zenzele. She smiled back and leaned towards me, putting her lips over mine. "I missed you," she whispered into my mouth. I very carefully put my hands on her shoulders and leaned into her kiss, opening my mouth wider, our tongues flicking. One of her fangs scraped against mine and I was instantly erect, Yul's little mushroom flushed with mortal blood. Well, that part works, I thought. Even if it wasn't technically my prick, it was a relief.

"I missed you so badly, my love," I panted, my kisses growing more fervent. "I'm so sorry I abandoned you, but I had to go. I had to try."

"I know."

"They tore me apart, and then they destroyed Ilio right before my eyes," I said. I drew back from Zenzele's kisses, the fire of my ardor put out by the memories. "You were right, Zenzele. I surrendered to Khronos, just as he demanded. He said he would let Ilio go if I surrendered to him, but he reneged on his promise. They Divided me first, tore me to pieces, and then they held up my head and made me watch as his lackeys pulled Ilio apart. Oh, my poor, poor boy! There was nothing I could do!"

"After you were Divided, Khronos sent an envoy to boast of your defeat," Zenzele said. "They bore an offer as well. They said if we surrendered to them, if we foreswore our rebellion and gave up our mortals to Uroboros, the God King would let us live."

"And what did you do?"

"I had them all killed," Zenzele answered, smiling darkly. "The entire delegation. All but one of them. I sent her back without her arms. She did not need arms to convey my answer."

I snorted a laugh. I should not be amused by her viciousness, but I often am. I have always found powerful women exciting.

"I tried to rescue you several times," Zenzele continued. "I sent small groups and large ones. Khronos always saw them coming and destroyed them or turned them back. It was not until Irema joined us that we had the means to rescue you from Uroboros. Irema's power works even on Khronos. Once we had her power and could blind the God King's Eye, we were able to sneak some spies into Uroboros. Luckily, Khronos had your head displayed on one of the city walls. I was afraid he might have kept you close to him, so he could gloat over you. It would have been much harder to liberate you if he had kept you inside the mountain."

"It must be how the Tanti eluded the God King's slavers for so long," I said. "Irema's power."

Zenzele nodded. "It is a fortuitous gift. They both have useful powers. Aioa can discern the location of lost or hidden items, and Irema can conceal her presence from the senses of other immortals. And not just her own presence. Anyone in her immediate vicinity falls under her cloak of invisibility. And Tapas, of course, is a powerful blood drinker. Nearly an Eternal, I believe. I did not trust them at first. I thought they were lying about their relationship to you. I thought Khronos had sent them as spies. But I have come to depend on them greatly since. I don't know what I would have done without their help. If not for your granddaughters, you would probably still be hanging from that wall in Uroboros."

"I deserve no less," I said. "It was foolish to surrender to the God King."

"You did what any father would do."

"Perhaps. But Khronos destroyed my son anyway, as I knew he would."

"You had hope that he would release the boy. It was a slim hope, but it was hope nonetheless. In truth, you were trapped the moment Ilio fell into the God King's hands."

I nodded. I had hoped that Khronos would be so pleased to have me that he would make some grand gesture of releasing my blood child, not out of magnanimity but perhaps as part of some scheme to lull his enemies into a false sense of security. My reasoning was not rational, but reason flies a parent's heart when it comes to the safety of their children. But Zenzele was right, as usual. I was trapped the moment Ilio set foot in Uroboros.

What's done cannot be undone, I told myself. The past is forever beyond recall. We can only remember and regret, cry and move on.

But it still hurt.

My mind flashed on Ilio's face, the expression that came upon it right before the God King's lackeys pulled him apart. He had realized, there at the end, just how completely he had been deceived, how Khronos had used truth and love and loyalty to engineer our destruction. He had understood, and he had forgiven me my failures, and then he was gone.

"I will make him pay for killing my son," I said.

Until Ilio, my opposition to the God King was mostly based on our philosophical differences. He believed in the rule of might, that blood drinkers, by dint of their superior strength, should dominate mortal men. I believe that all men should be free, that we all have the right to pursue whatever it is that gives us joy, and that the peaceful coexistence of our two races benefits us both, mortal and immortal alike. Before Ilio, that conflict was purely ideological. Now it was personal. He had murdered my son… and I would make him pay.