Amazonia

  While the narrator was speaking, from the right side alcove a man and a woman, both wearing wispy green clothing and wearing masks depicting them as savages, walked out onto the stage. They began to dance as the narrator continued. “In the beginning, humans lived no better than beasts, hunting the animals of the forest and gathering its bounty.” On stage, the illusion of an apple tree appeared at the center while the illusion of a wild boar entered from the alcove where the three Daemo mages sat, the dance changing as the man followed the boar as if hunting it, while the woman seemed to flow around the tree, miming the action of picking apples. “Then Jupiter and the other gods came to Terra.”

  From the right hand alcove, a tall, muscular man wearing a toga that left much of his smooth chest bare, stepped out onto the stage, his mask of a stern man with a curly beard. Illusionary hair streamed out behind him as he spoke. “Hail, mortals, I am Jupiter, king of the gods. Listen to my wisdom and grow wise yourselves.”

  The wild man and woman both stopped dancing and approached him, both dropping to their knees in front of Jupiter as the narrator said, “Humanity listened and obeyed the gods. In return, the gods taught them how to tame the wild beasts and cultivate the land.” Both illusions changed, the wild boar becoming a hairy Zor-ox while the tree became a tall bush of steppe corn. The wild man and woman both stood and resumed dancing, the man pretending to herd the animal while the woman mimed plucking ears of steppe corn off the bush as the narrator said, “But then the Daemo discovered Terra as well.”

  From the left hand alcove, a Daemo female appeared. She wore the dancer’s outfit Amazonia had seen several times at noblemen’s feasts, of a silver belt with short strips of sheer fabric attached, and a band of the same sheer material in a band covering her small breasts. The Daemo dancer wove her way between the wild man and woman, enticing them to abandon what they were doing and follow her as the narrator said, “The Daemo found human blood to be a rich food, as if they had gone from eating cold gruel to feasting off the table of a king, and schemed to make the humans their slaves.” He paused. “Jupiter was displeased.”

  From the right hand side of the stage, the illusion of a lightning bolt appeared in Jupiter’s hand, and he threw it towards the Daemo. The illusion exploded over her head with a flash and a boom like thunder. The Daemo female shrieked, running away towards the left hand alcove and vanishing inside it as the wild man and woman cringed. Jupiter opened his arms. “Return to me, my children, and all will be well.”

  The human dancers threw themselves at Jupiter’s feet. He motioned for them to stand, and as they did, he made a blessing over their heads. The Zor-ox joined them, and Jupiter led the small group out through the right hand alcove as the narrator said, “The Daemo retreated from Terra, and for a time, all was well. But this was only the beginning.”

  The illusionary bush vanished, and in its place, Amazonia noticed there was a foot tall stick painted black on a black stand she had missed before. Chorus began another hymn, this one honoring all of the gods, while figures swathed in black, including their faces, began placing objects on both sides of the stage. “Fox, why are those people putting things on the stage?”

  “Scenery for the next act. Domina, all illusions need something physical to adhere to or they can’t be cast.”

  “Really?” Fox nodded, and Amazonia said, “What about Jupiter’s thunderbolt?”

  “While everyone’s attention was focused on the dancers, the actor picked up the small stick already placed there and held it while the illusion was being cast. If it wasn’t for the clap of thunder, you would’ve heard it clatter when it hit the stage.” Fox’s expression became a smirk. “Domina, I was there when the actors first started to rehearse the play, and Myron, who plays Jupiter, missed his throw and almost took out Lavender’s eye. She clutched at her face and started screaming at him like a fishwife.”

  “I don’t blame her. What about the Zor-ox?”

  “Did you see the squat Daemo with the three witches, as we nicknamed Mistress Alexina’s mages?” Amazonia nodded, and Fox said, “That’s Pook, Mistress Alexina’s familiar, who’s really more like an intelligent animal than a person. So it doesn’t mind pretending to be a beast.”

  Amazonia shook her head. “Hades’ hairy eyeballs, this has been a day for strangeness. What’s next, illusionary dragons using a trained bird?”

  Fox smiled. “Nope. Daemo butterfly.”

  Amazonia’s eyes narrowed. “Is that a jest?”

  “No Domina, I swear it isn’t. Starwing is about a cubit long,” Fox holding out her arm and motioning from her elbow to her fingertips, “with her upper half a beautiful female, and her lower a scorpion’s tail, complete with a stinger. Her bottom half secretes a venom which when injected, causes any human, male or female, to fall deeply in love with the first person they see. Which is usually her. They’re so infatuated that they’ll protect her from all harm while letting her feed, which is a good thing because she’s fragile.”

  “I’ve never heard of such a thing. Is the effect permanent, or does it wear off?”

  “It depends on the person. If the person hates Daemo, for instance, the effect will only last a few weeks and the person will know they’ve been tricked. But if the person already adores us, the effect may last for years. Fortunately for humans, once it does wear off she won’t sting them again because it tends to drive them insane, and she never knows how they’ll react. Starwing prefers not to sting anyone at all, and ever since she got here she hasn’t had to.”

  In the circle, Chorus finished their hymn, and as the narrator again raised his arms, Az noticed there were now large red rocks on the left hand side of the stage and pillars of carved white marble on the right, while the apple tree had returned to the center. “The scene now changes to the Underworld of the Daemo and the Heavens of the gods,” the narrator said, “where the fate of Terra was to be debated.” He paused as three bulky Daemo in red robes entered from the left, their red masks displaying grotesque faces, while three people entered from the right. One was Jupiter while the second was female, her mask of a beautiful woman with coiffured blue hair.

  The third towered over the other two. She was a head shorter than Titan but more massive, her face a blend of human with wolf, and her hands possessed black claws instead of nails. She wore Artifact armor pitted and scored from battle and looked tough enough to stand against Titan in battle. “Fox,” Amazonia whispered, “who’s the warrior god?”

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  “Asena the Wolf Mother,” the little Daemo replied. “Mistress Alexina told me that Asena was once revered as a god herself, but now walks the lands, waiting for death.”

  Amazonia gave her an incredulous look as the narrator said, “Deep in the bowels of the Underworld, the Daemo princes were plotting death and destruction.”

  The first Daemo puffed out its chest as it turned towards the others. “How dare the gods deny us such a rich source of food as human blood is to us? This is an outrage which cannot be borne.”

  “We should take Terra for our own,” the second Daemo said, shaking a stubby fist towards the right side of the stage. “We shall enslave the humans and make them no better than the Zor-ox is for them. Go quickly,” it said, turning towards the third Daemo, “and tell the gods that Terra is theirs no more.”

  “My lords, bide a moment,” a female voice said as the illusion of a human-sized, purple dragon, floated out of the left hand alcove. “There is no need for conflict. We can work alongside the gods to help the humans flourish, instead of enslaving them. My princes, the Daemo do not want war.”

  “We do not care what the Daemo want,” the first one said in a haughty voice. “We only care that the Daemo people obey us. Go quickly,” its misshapen finger pointing at the third, “and give our ultimatum to the gods.”

  The third Daemo walked up to the illusion of the apple tree and raised its arms. “Hear me, O gods of the Heavens,” it said in a deep voice. “Leave Terra to us and never return to this world, or we will destroy you all.”

  On the right side of the stage, the blue haired female wrung her hands as she turned towards the others. “What shall we do? Many of us do not want war, do not want our children to face its horrors and die upon the field of battle.”

  “Yet if we do not make a stand,” Jupiter replied, “then after the princes have taken Terra, they will come for the Heavens next. We have to stop them on Terra and we have to do it now.”

  “Then let it be war,” Asena growled in a voice like a Direwolf given speech. “Let the hills ring out with the song of steel, let the hungry earth suck down the Daemo dead until the spawning pits of the Underworld boil. Let us build great machines of war and spells so powerful that Terra itself will absorb their energy until the world itself becomes a mana node. Let us alter our children in ways that will help them fight, let us craft new races to march with our armies, and let us never, ever, stop, until the last Daemo prince is dead.” Asena raised her fists over her shaggy head as she roared, “Let it be war!”

  The crowd in front of Amazonia roared the words back as from behind her, brazen trumpets blew. Az turned around on her bench.

  From the top of the amphitheater where the temple-like structure stood, six men on the god’s side and six Daemo on the prince’s side, came striding down to the beat of the drummers in the circle below. Lady Alexina led the Daemo. The five behind her were less coarsely shaped and more man-like than Daemo warriors normally were, wearing no armor but carrying crude, pitted swords and axes in their hands. Lady Alexina wore black leather armor, which to Amazonia’s critical eye seemed more decorative than functional, and carried a two-handed Artifact katana with rounded edges instead of sharp. Several runes on the blade glowed a deep blue.

  The six young men all wore the same armor and carried the same katanas Lady Alexina did. None wore a helm, the five men behind the tall leader having the dark hair and light brown skin of the local people, with bodies slender and wiry as her Wardog, Dancer’s. Their leader looked to be roughly Amazonia’s height, though she couldn’t be sure, but stood head and shoulders taller than the others, with the pale skin of the north-lands and a wolfish cast to his features. He had broad shoulders and a frame too large for his body, giving him a lean, almost gaunt look. He reminded Az of Little Paulus going through a growth spurt.

  His hair in a braid to his shoulders was of the same silvery-grey color as Fox’s. “Hades’ hairy eyeballs,” Amazonia hissed, pointing at the tall young man as he passed them, “is he a Shadow-walker like you?”

  “His name’s Greywolf,” Fox replied in a wistful voice, “who’s the son of a mysterious Shadow-walker named Ghostdog. His mother’s Asena, the one playing the war goddess on stage.”

  Amazonia didn’t see how that was possible… and yet, she could see the shadow of her in his face as both groups strode past them on either side. “If I didn’t know better,” she said, her eyes still on Greywolf, “from the sound of your voice I’d say you’re in love with him.” Fox only sighed and Amazonia tore her gaze away to stare at the Daemo. “You can’t be serious. I’ve heard the only thing a Daemo ever loves is how good our blood tastes.”

  “Domina, it’s more complex than that,” Fox said. Her eyes continued following Greywolf as the lower class men in the middle section began stomping their feet in time with the drums. “We can be absolutely loyal to another Daemo, as I was to Mistress Alexina, but we will never love one. We’re too much in competition with each other.” Fox turned to look at Amazonia. “Humans though, we can be fond of, as Mistress Alexina’s fond of her bodyguards, especially Captain Bron.”

  “So, what about this young man, Greywolf?”

  “I want him to be mine,” Fox replied in a quiet, yet intense voice. Her eyes locked onto Amazonia’s. “Mistress Alexina has blood and carnal rights over him as part of her deal with Asena, and I tried to respect that. I really did try. It’s just that the first time I caught his scent, I was overcome with desire.” Her gaze dropped to her hands clasped together in her lap. “I wanted to make him fall in love with me and take me away somewhere so we could be together.”

  Amazonia slowly nodded. “You asked… what was the butterfly’s name, Starwing?” Fox nodded without looking up and Amazonia said, “You asked Starwing for help, didn’t you?”

  Fox sighed. “It was stupid and I knew it was stupid, but I couldn’t think of any other way. Mistress Alexina has Starwing craft her venom into a perfume, which the high class women who work for her use discreetly when they’re entertaining rich men.”

  “In other words, her most expensive whores use it to make men fall in love with them.”

  “Only while they can smell the scent. Because it’s not injected, once they leave the effects disappear, but they still remember how they felt about the woman afterwards and usually return.”

  “Guaranteeing repeat business. So why didn’t you steal a bottle and use it on yourself?”

  Fox sighed again. “I did, Domina, but it wasn’t potent enough. Greywolf’s incredibly strong-willed, inherited from his mother and father both from what I heard, and all the perfume got me was an idle promise to spend more time teaching me how to survive in the Grey. So I poured my heart out to Starwing, who swore that she’d craft me a perfume strong enough to break past the oath Greywolf swore to Mistress Alexina and to his mother.”

  Amazonia’s expression turned sardonic. “Let me guess: Starwing went straight to Lady Alexina.”

  Fox nodded without looking up. “Evidently, Mistress Alexina expected this to happen, for when I was summoned to her chambers, she had a collar waiting, one that began working on me the moment she snapped it around my neck.”

  Amazonia reared back as her eyes went wide. “You mean she kept you in pain until all our collars were broken?”

  Fox looked up with a sardonic expression of her own. “I wish. Domina, my people have the ability to flip the sensation of pain into pleasure, if we want to, though we only do that if pain serves no purpose. It’s why Daemo make the best spies.”

  “Because you can’t be tortured into revealing what you know.” Fox nodded, and Amazonia said, “So what did the collar do that kept you away from him?”

  The six men and six Daemo had reached the circle and were climbing up the stairs to either side of the stage, as Fox replied quietly, “It kept me afraid of everything and everyone, so I wouldn’t dare take a chance.”

  “I see. But the collar’s gone, so you don’t have to be afraid anymore.”

  “I have a different collar tattooed onto my back now, Domina,” Fox said, her gaze focusing on the stage below, “and this collar won’t let me turn pain into anything else unless it wants to. Look,” she said, pointing down at the stage before Amazonia could speak, “the dancing’s about to begin.”