Author's Preface
Solana: I know I said I could do it, but…
Merkra: Hey, hey…it’s alright. I’ll handle it.
muffled steps and door latching
Merkra: Solana is stepping away for this last beat. I know most of you follow us on social media, so you’ve likely seen that my beautiful wife is very pregnant. The Deviltouched children are not treated particularly well, but that is a wild understatement when we look at Yasha.
shuffling papers and throat clearing noises
Merkra: Look, I’m not going to sugarcoat this. You guys know that’s not my style. This is maybe the most disturbing shit that I’ve ever read and we just talked about a woman getting cooked alive by a dragon and a devil pushing her brother’s heartbeat into her chest. This is not for the feint of heart. I’ll leave a “too long didn’t listen” portion in the description, for those of you that understandably can’t finish this.
“Gregoooor.” Penelope sang as she strolled out of the medical wing. Her saurian ward shifted from thin air to walking in lockstep beside her. “I have a project for you.”
“Anything.” His initiative and enthusiasm for her projects never ceased to please her.
“I need you to find out everything possible about Fletcher Sterling Lightfoot. Leave no stone unturned.”
“At once.” His tongue flicked out at the air. “Was there anything else you needed, Mistress?”
“Yes, stop and speak with Terran. Let her know the enchantments on Yasha’s room need to be refreshed tonight.”
“As y-you wish.” Gregor bowed his head, and the air seemed to fold around him as he vanished.
Father would certainly be sending Atania to collect the child. She would not allow it. He made Yasha, sure. Now she would make something of her own. The simplest solution would be to rip the Atania shaped thorn from her side and pulverize it, but that would raise questions that she wasn’t ready to answer. Not yet, at least. Even a dragon only handled half of the problem. If only there were more Gregors to go around.
Before she could bother with that, there was a piece of her plan for Yasha that had yet to be perfected. Penelope skipped across the courtyard to the alchemists’ den. It had been six days since the child’s arrival, and they still had nothing. So she kicked them out. She’d do it herself.
Kicking aside a few shards of the iron cauldron that exploded earlier that morning, Penelope glided through the room to her fresh workstation. Pain relief was simple. Numerous potions could accomplish that. Enhanced clarity and cognitive ability were not. The books listed memory tonics and focus draughts by the hundreds. All of them came up woefully short.
She lit the fire beneath a new cauldron and moved with a graceful purpose to collect her ingredients. The roc’s feathers had not worked, but there was still one left to try. Three red and orange feathers fell from a box onto the scored wood. The last of their supply, so it had to work. Phoenixes don’t show up every day.
Numerous other herbs and crushed gemstones were added to the water as it roiled to life. Glittering dust of a glimmerwing moth, silver tears from a weeping wraith, and last, but not least, a single shard of a dragon’s heart. She lifted the crystalline shard from her pocket. It was priceless. The few inches of Dragon heart she possessed could be turned into a dozen artifacts in the right hands. She dropped it into the bubbling brew without another thought.
It hissed and popped. Fumes clawed at her throat. Vision blurred. As it reduced, the color shifted from earthy brown to a luminous blue. Minutes turned into hours before a choked gasp caught behind her stretched lips, eyes widening with manic brilliance.
Penelope extracted a thick, glowing blue tar from the bottom of the cauldron. Seperated it into two vials, then mixing each with a healing tincture. She took a few more minutes to write down her notes while the liquid soaked. There was only one way to test it. She needed someone to teach her something.
No one awake. No one useful, at least. She considered waking up the king. She’d always wanted to learn to play the lute. Not a good idea. Gerard.
Penelope frolicked up to Gerard’s quarters and pounded on the door. After a moment, the enormous Orc opened the door and peered at her through one barely open eye.
“I need your assistance.” She looked him up and down and shook her head. “Cover your penis and meet me in the medical wing. Bring a prisoner, please.”
Sitting atop a steel table, Penelope spun a razor-sharp blade on the tip of her finger. Gerard entered a few minutes later with a prisoner in tow, and she took the scalpel and drug it down her forearm. Grin never slipping, she took the florescent vial and guzzled it down. It tasted a bit like a burnt blueberry pie. Gerard’s eyes widened, but he remained silent as the deep wound started to stitch itself back together.
“Strap him down, please.” She hopped off the table. Gerard tossed the struggling prisoner to the table and strapped down his arms and legs. He yelled and cursed and thrashed, but Penelope ignored him. “I need you to teach me everything you know about the inner workings of the body.”
“With a live prisoner?” Gerard squinted.
“Oh…Right…” Penelope took the blade she’d cut herself with and ripped it across the man’s throat.
“Good call, that would have been messy.” She swiped some of the blood gurgling from the gash in his throat off the table. “Should probably let him drain a little first.”
Gerard closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “I could have just shown you a book, you know?”
“I’m a hands-on learner.”
It took a few minutes for the blood to stop flowing, but once it did, Gerard took her on a detailed tour of the prisoner’s anatomy. It was as if she’d cracked open her skull, and the Orc dumped a lifetime of research and experience into her mind. Even with the pain relief factor of the tincture, a vicious headache was creeping in…but it worked.
Penelope had Gerard quiz her as he cleaned up the mess they’d made several hours later. Every bit of what he’d said, every stroke of the blade he’d made, had been retained with perfect precision.
Fresh morning light assaulted her from the castle hall windows. She blinked. When had the night ended? Sleep called out to her heavy eyelids, but she had a working potion. There was no time left to waste. Penelope bounded through the courtyard toward the nursery.
Rekk’s silhouette greeted her with a half wave from the roof of the building, heavy crossbow on his lap and the sun rising behind his back. Terran met her at the door and ushered her in.
“Gregor stopped by last night. Did you know someone was going to break in?”
“A suspicion. Is Yasha okay?” Penelope asked, eyes softening despite the wild grin etched on her cheeks.
“She’s fine. The window enchantment went off in the middle of the night, so I sent Rekk up to keep an eye out.”
If Atania really wanted to push it, she could have gotten in. The fact that she didn’t was enough to give her a moment’s pause. Perhaps it wasn’t Atania at all. Perhaps she’d been wrong about the entire thing. That didn’t fit the pattern. It wouldn’t do. It had to be Atania.
“Thank you for keeping her safe. It’s time though.”
“Time?” Terran cocked an eyebrow, hands on her hips. “Time for what?”
“I’ll be taking her off your hands from here.” Penelope peeked her head around Terran, getting ready to walk past.
“What do you mean? You’re going to raise an infant? On your own?” Terran questioned.
“I am.” Penelope gave a curt nod, fingers dipping into her pocket to play with the second vial.
“Penny, I obviously don’t want to overstep…but infants require constant attention. Your role isn’t exactly suited for that.”
Penelope took Terran’s hands in hers and gave them a gentle squeeze. “You are my oldest friend,”Penelope’s eyelid twitched hard with the word. “Were I to take advice from anyone, it would be yours. I need you to trust I know what I’m doing.”
Terran stared down at her for a long time before squeezing her hands back and giving her a nod. The two of them moved back to Yasha’s room, and Penelope collected her from the crib.
“Should we send her things up to your quarters? You’ll need the crib and some bottles and…”
“I’ve got everything I need. Thank you, Terran.” Penelope cut her off and bowed her head slightly to her before strolling out into the courtyard again, a baby less than two weeks old in her arms.
Penelope took care to avoid the portal room. She didn’t think that Father could see her through it, but with special cargo she wasn’t willing to take the chance. Yasha’s tiny baby snores brought a sort of warmth she couldn’t quantify. She’d catalogued thousands of reactions in her life, but this one had no formula.
Virinax was waiting for her as she stepped through the lab doors and pressed a finger to her lips. “She’s asleep.”
“She won’t be for long.” He murmured under his breath.
Not bothering to comment, she stepped around and laid Yasha down on the small cot Virinax had set up beside the experimentation table. She cherished the sight of the serene face for a few beats before glancing over at Virinax.
“Alright, are you ready?” She clapped her hand around his forearm.
“As ready as I’ll ever be I suppose.” He gave a shaky nod.
“Of you go then.” She pulled the gleaming blue vial from her pocket and flipped it back and forth between her fingers.
Virinax knelt down on the cot beside the child with a jar of blue dust in one hand and a tiny duster in the other. Penelope was shit at runes. Maybe she should have made him teach her this instead of bothering Gerard. He circled the cot slowly, drawing out intricate runes with the sparkling blue dust before moving to kneel above the child’s head. He muttered a few words, and placed his index and middle fingers on her forehead.
The surrounding runes burnt out with a flash of smoke. The brilliant red flames scooped into the air, then dove to meet his fingers on Yasha’s forehead. She woke up in an instant, screaming as if she’d been stabbed.
Tears broke through Penelope’s wide eyes and slipped along her curled lips. Virinax looked up at her, but it wasn’t time. Yasha’s body twisted, stretched, and contorted as she wailed with pain. Only when the horns started pushing through further did Penelope speak.
“Stop!”
She scrambled to the mattress, bodying Virinax’s much larger form out of the way. Tears now falling onto Yasha’s face, mingling with the dribbles of blood leaking from the stretched skin around the thicker horns, Penelope plugged the screaming girl’s nose and dumped the contents of the vial into her open mouth.
Yasha, an infant no longer, stopped thrashing after swallowing. Relief washed over her face and deep violet eyes opened, looking around inquisitively.
“What was that?” Virinax asked, grabbing the vial Penelope had discarded over her shoulder.
“A tincture I made.” She scooped the young girl into her arms, now twice the size she’d been moments ago. Penelope stroked the girl’s hair and smiled down at her. “It’s alright. I’m here. Your name is Yasha, and we have a lot to get you caught up on.”
“Yasha…” The tiny voice mimicked.
“Good job.” Penelope’s leaked again. She pulled the parchment with the ingredients and instructions for the potion from her pocket with her free hand and gave it to Virinax. “We’re going to need more of that. You should be able to replicate it.”
“Did she just speak?” Virinax’s eyes went wide as he poured over the list of ingredients. What is this potion?”
Penelope lifted Yasha into a seated position. “We had a very particular problem that required a very particular solution. Sit down and stand back up, Virinax.”
Virinax sat down, not looking up from the list and stood back up.
“Virinax.” Her little voice sounded a bit louder this time, garnering Virinax’s attention again.
“Good job. Do you think you can do that? Try to stand up?” Penelope asked.
Her face scrunched toward its center. She tilted away from Penelope and then pushed herself up onto wobbly feet.
“Astounding.” Virinax muttered to himself, starting to pace in circles as he read off the ingredients aloud. Yasha watched him for a moment, head tilted slightly, then started to mimic his pacing. “We should be mass producing this. The use cases are endless.”
“You’ll produce exactly how much I tell you to,” Penelope said, tracks of fluid seeping down the corners of her eyes as she watched the young girl. She’d done it. Not created the child, but something deeper. Penelope stood and scooped the girl into a hug, heart melting as the little arms wrapped around her torso. She’d made her perfect.