Warsinger: Chapter Thirty

Who is best waifu? 

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We let the carriage take us to the Night Market, but damned if we were going to stay in the cabin. Neither Suri or I were the kind of people who enjoyed watching the world go by from the window of a car. We abandoned the droshki at the Merchant District gate, then ran hand-in-hand through the singing, laughing, chattering throng winding down toward the Market, grinning like kids. The air was heavy with the smells of sausages and frying onions, butter, machine grease, flowers, fruit and spices.

“I swear we’re going the right way!” I called back to her over the noise.

“Just follow your nose!” She called back, white teeth flashing in the twilight gloom. “Can you smell that?”

Hell yes I could. And when we broke out of the street and emerged into the plaza, we saw the Holy Grail laid out before us: rings of stands selling every possible type of street food from every part of the continent.

“We finally found it,” Suri said hoarsely. “This, right here, is what Heaven looks like.” 

I pulled her in against my hip and turned to look at her. The cloak had blown back, and the metal links poured down her body like a river of gold. Her brilliant red hair hung around her face in thick curls, burnished by the light of the lanterns.

“Nope,” I said. “I’m pretty sure Heaven is standing right beside me right now.”

Suri’s face flushed a dark cinnamon-brick red, and she playfully whacked me on the shoulder. “Shameless flatterer.”

“I’m serious. You’re stunning.” I pulled her in closer, and she pressed her body in against mine. “But I hope you’re ready to gain about twenty pounds tonight.”

“I was born for this.” Her full mouth spread out into a broad grin just before she leaned down to kiss me. It was lingering and sweet, the kind of pleasure I knew I’d want to hang onto in the days and weeks to come.

We started at one end of the night market and worked our way around. There were wheels of juicy veal and lamb kebab, served in fresh pita with pickled vegetables and garlic sauce; breads of all kinds, from sweet fried cheese donuts to cherry croissants. Then there was the burek: ring-shaped pastries dripping with butter and garlic and filled with meat, vegetables, cheese... and, well, more cheese. Vlachia was a great place for cheese: goat cheese, sheeps’ milk cheese, and cheese made from the milk of more exotic species, like...

“Dolphin... cheese?” We stopped in front of a Meewfolk food stand, the only one in the entire market. Since Ignas had taken the throne, the cat-folk were allowed to trade in the city again, but while there were a couple of people ordering, there was no queue at this stand. Still, the Catfolk had gone all out. The stand was dressed with tropical silk flowers, with their to-go selections laid out in baskets and on trays: steamed fish, pungent with herbs and fresh chilies and baked in large, fragrant leaves; skewers of marinated songbirds, and translucent rice-paper wraps of squid, crab, shrimp and giant water-beetle meat with chives and a thin, smoky sauce. And, yes - the dolphin cheese. It was fatty, firm and yellow; chopped into cubes, then flash fried and served in a giant water-beetle shell.

“Is this really made from dolphins?” I asked the chef, a tall Meewfolk with heavily pierced ears, tabby points, and brilliant blue eyes.

“Yes, of course! That is ki’kira, mrah? A dish of royal court! Very tasty, very rare.” He flashed me an attempt at a human smile, showing off a pair of inch-long canines as he deftly ladled oil into a wok of frying crickets and tossed them up into the air. “You want try? It is expensive, mrah, but is a true delicacy of tropics! Two silver!”

It was easily the most expensive food we’d paid for during the night, but I was about to tell him to hit me when Suri’s eyes narrowed. She clapped me on the forearm and leaned in. “Is this the real shit? Or is it made out of tofu or something?”

The Meewfolk man’s tail bristled with offense. “Of coursssse it’s real!” 

“Right. So a stack of food normally served to the courts of the Praa’ Rachini just fell off the side of an airship and happened to land in Litvy?” Suri arched an eyebrow.

The chef’s ears flickered as he tipped the crickets into a leaf-lined basket and passed it over to his fellow trader, an adorable little Meewfolk barely out of kitten-hood who went to go and serve them to a delighted Lysian customer. “This one has good connections, my lady. My brother work at Royal Nursery. He cut me good price for festival, so I send money home, mrah? I would not serve fake ki’kira here after so many troubles we have in Vlachia.”

Suri seemed satisfied, and nodded. I passed the Meewfolk two and a half rubles. “One serving of your finest cetacean curd, please. And I’ll take a beetle wrap and a tweety bird skewer as well.”

The chef’s ears pricked this time, and his long tail curled into a question mark as he gently bit the first coin to test the silver, nodded, and handed them to his kid. “My thanksss. Giant water-beetle food is called ti’kak’ak in my mother’s tongue. You want try?”

“Hell yeah,” I said.

“Then you take while I make ki’kira,” he replied. “And if you like, take another!”

“You have to be kidding me.” Suri watched with dismay as I wiggled my fingers over the basket of giant water beetle wraps, then plucked one from the heap.

I grinned at her. “Hey, man, if prawns are the chicken of the sea, then giant beetles are the prawns of the land. Right?”

“If you say so.” She watched on with her arms crossed.

“Here goes.” I jammed the end of the roll into my mouth before I lost my nerve and bit down. Juice squirted out the other end, narrowly missing Suri. She let out an indignant yip. I chortled at her, then moaned as the flavor hit. It was like a really good shrimp taco. The meat was almost translucent, delicate and sweet. The sauce was smoky and fiery, with layers of flavor: chilis and lime and some kind of herb with a nutty, celery-like taste. 

“This is great!” I said, once my mouth was clear. “Kind of does taste like shrimp. I dig the shit out of that sauce, man. Suri, you want to try?”

“Yeah no, I’m fine.” Suri held up both hands. “Ate enough bugs in Al-Asad to last me the rest of my life.”

I took another bite. “Mmph, yeah, but now you’re the Voivodzina, you can eat bugs just because you want to. And I swear, it’s worth it.” 

The Meewfolk pinned his ears to his skull, and his fur puffed in surprise. “Voivodzina? You, my lady?”

“Don’t tell anyone.” I winked, shrugged, then pulled one of the songbirds off the skewer and wolfed it down. It was decent, but it was gamey and not nearly as good as ti’kak’ak had been. 

The Meewfolk chef cocked his head, then looked to the right and slightly over my head. His eyes widened. “Khom pra quai! You new Count and Countess of Myszno?”

“Shhh.” Suri was trying not to laugh, because it was way too late now. As soon as the chef remarked on it, other people nearby started to pay attention to our status.

“I am sorry – this one did not mean to expose you.” His ears were still back as he deftly scooped out the small ladle of cheese from the oil, shook it, then turned it into a metallic giant beetle shell. “You are… eehh… what we call Dāwā dĕk. Star Children? You, you drive Demon out of Myszno?”

“Uhh, yeah.” I swallowed my last bite of barbequed bird and nodded. “That’s us.”

He glanced behind us for a moment. “You do me great favor, great praise to eat our food, my Lord. I cannot take money.” To the kittenfolk, he said: “Kaathi, hee rin pawk nan nai maaw?”

The kid nodded, and went to retrieve the coins.

“No no, they’re yours.” Suri held her hands up. “We insist.” 

“Yeah, absolutely, I said. “I want to pay you. This is great.”

“As you say, Your Grace.” He sketched a nervous bow. “I will add garnish for you if you wish, mrr? Usually only Prrupt’meew like, but if you like ti’kak’ak, you will enjoy this, I think. Do you like spicy? Sweet?”

“Both,” I said. “But make it as spicy as it goes.”

The chef grabbed a small handful of chopped bluish leaves and threw them on the cheese, followed by tiny chilis, sugar, lime juice, and then a small handful of small brown beetles in some kind of marinade. A collective gasp went up behind us. Confused, I looked over my shoulder - and saw that we had actually drawn a crowd of townspeople, who were watching us eat with startled expressions.

The Meewfolk jammed a toothpick into the cheese and passed it over. “This is how I would eat it in my home, mrah? They’re good - juicy and sweet.”

“This looks great, thanks.” I made sure I got a piece of cheese with extra beetles and turned to Suri. My six-foot-tall Berserker girlfriend, a woman who had once literally torn the head off a zombie with her bare hands, turned green around the gills as I flourished the toothpick and nipped the cheese off the end. 

“Hmm…” I looked skyward as I chewed. “Sweet, spicy… crunchy… “

“Hector.” Suri had fixed a grim little smile on her mouth. “When we get back to Kalla Sahasi, I will wring your neck.”

It was definitely an adventure in food, but it was actually pretty good. The cheese was very, very fatty, like a cross between butter and perfectly tender tuna steak. The portion had looked small, but it was so rich that I was grateful he hadn’t given me more.

“Wow,” I said. “This is fucking amazing. Seriously, Suri. Want to try some?”

“Nah, I’m good, thanks.”

I squinted at her. “Hey, I’m trying something here. I want to see if we can drum up business for this guy.”

A tic started beside her eye. “Fine. But give me a piece without any bugs on it.”

No sooner had I picked out a morsel for her than other people - humans, mostly wealthy townsfolk - began to come up to the food stand to order. The chef put his hands together under his chin and bowed to us over then, then dragged his attention away from us to serve the customers now waving money at his kid. I stepped aside before feeding it to Suri. She took it off the toothpick carefully, but once she tasted it, she made a high-pitched sound of surprise and nodded.

“Actually,” she said, once she’d swallowed. “That’s not bad, is it?”

“Nope.” I looked over to the gathered crowd. There were nearly fifty people now, clamoring to eat the same food the Count and Countess of Myszno were raving about. “Dude, this is crazy. And kind of scary. They’re going to sell out of food.”

“That’s what Renown does, hey?” Suri shrugged. “Whether we like it or not… we’re kind of famous.”

“Yeah.” I looked back to the Meewfolk. The pair of father and child were cooking up a storm now. They’d probably spent years living in squalor in Litvy’s International District – aka the Meewfolk ghetto – and now they were going to be rolling in dough because we liked their food. “Hey, if you’ve never tried Meewfolk cuisine before, how come you knew to ask about the cheese?”

“Oh. Well, I knew a bunch of Meewfolk when I was a pit fighter,” Suri replied. “One of them told me once that if I ever met a ki’kira seller, I needed to make sure it was the real thing and not a rip-off. Sometimes it’s made out of ki-fur.”

“What’s ki-fur?” I asked, happily snacking on another piece of cheese.

“Prra’nat told me it’s dolphin jizz.” She laughed. “I shit you not.”

I stopped chewing.

“He said that the dolphin nurseries fob it off because the dolphins make it year-round, they make bucketloads of it, and it has basically the same protein content. They feed it to criminals, apparently.” She waved her hands as she talked, animated and lively. 

“You’re joking.”

“Nope. Apparently some Meewfolk tinkers will try and pass ki-fur off as ‘dolphin cheese’ if they’re selling it to humans. 

I eyed the beetle shell and remaining cheese with deep suspicion. “Why the fuck would they do that?”

“Have you ever owned, or even like… met a cat before? Cats are jerks. So are dolphins, for that matter. We’ve treated Meewfolk like garbage for thousands of years. They probably think it’s hilarious. They make a kind of prison hooch with the stuff, too. Call it ‘Fin Rum’. The cats in my old syndicate I was in used to troll their recruits with Fin Rum.”

“Dolphin jizz liquor. Now I’ve heard everything.” I suddenly didn’t feel quite as hungry as I had before. “So, can you tell if this is actual dolphin milk? From actual female dolphin tiddies, I mean.”

“No idea, to be honest with you. I never ate the stuff before. Prra’nat said the real thing is really soft, kind of like eating butter with a really mild fish aftertaste. He said if it doesn’t wiggle like jelly, you shouldn’t put it in your mouth.”

I experimentally jiggled the cheese around. It wobbled in a reassuring manner. 

“Okay. I think we’re good.” I resumed stuffing my face with it.

Suri wrinkled her nose. “Wait. So you’re okay with eating bugs, but dolphin spunk is where you draw the line?”

“Yes. Yes, it is,” I said. “The thin, gooey white line.”

Suri busted up laughing: a wild rolling belly laugh that ended with a snort and her hand clapped to her face with embarrassment.

We left the stand and the crowd behind, and did a circuit of the market. Suri introduced me to Dakhari food - spicy and rich, like a hybrid of Middle Eastern and Indian food, but with slow-cooked dinosaur meats instead of mutton and chicken. We found kim-chee at a Jeun merchant stall and nearly bought him out of his stock. We drank strong malty beer and even stronger rakija, ate cotton candy and even got our hands on some frozen custard, which was being sold by a trio of robed and hooded Mercurions showcasing one of their best-selling inventions: placeable Artificed sigils that could turn any insulated container or cellar into a walk-in freezer. By the time we waddled out of the other end of the market and into a long street full of busy bars and cafes, we were pleasantly drunk, had round stomachs, a new feat - Adventurous Gourmet - and the Overstuffed debuff on top of her Fatigue and my Exhaustion. But we were happy, walking beneath the ropes of colored lanterns with our fingers linked. We passed a small courtyard below a tall clocktower. There was a party going on there, with people dancing, and I pointed at it as we went by.

“Think they’d let us in?” I asked. 

“Don’t see why they wouldn’t.” Suri had the slow grace of someone who was drunk enough to be relaxed, but not drunk enough to be sick. “Come on - I want to show you something.”

“What?” I grinned as she took my hand and began to pull me toward the party.

She chuckled. “You’ll see.”

We slipped in around the revelers into the shadows cast by the apartments to either side. There were pillars holding up the next floor, and when we reached the first one, Suri backed me up against one and bent down to kiss me. In high heels, she was tall enough that her breasts were at face height. The bare skin above her cleavage radiated heat. Before I realized what she was doing, she took my hand and slid my fingers under the links of her dress, pushing them through until they cupped the inside of her thigh. She was hot there, too. 

“Are you serious?” I dropped my voice, but I didn’t push her away. “There’s people everywhere!”

“That’s kind of the point,” she whispered back. “Better unequip anything that’s going to get in the way, and keep those eagle eyes of yours peeled.”

My breathing sped as she slid her hand down my belly. She worked her fingers under the edge of my jerkin, and rapped on the leather cup protecting the Three Amigos. Swallowing, I quickly went to my inventory, and unequipped that one small item of clothing.

“You’re a kinky bitch. You know that, right?” I looked around us as her hand slid lower, and then turned my face back into her chest. My pulse was racing under my tongue, in my fingertips, and in… other extremities.

“Uh huh.” Suri breathed against my ear as her fingers coasted over the tent in my pants. “You have no idea.”

Hesitantly, I reached up and grazed her nipple through the warm metal of her dress. She stiffened, then whimpered softly against the side of my neck. The sound nearly undid me: I began to rub against her hand, fighting to stay quiet as people chatted and laughed barely twenty feet away from us.

Suri licked my ear, dexterously unlacing my fly. “Shhh. Relax, ninja boy.” 

I let out a startled, muffled yip as she slid her hand into my clothing. “You’re nuts!”

“And you’re hard.” She chuckled softly, and began to discreetly, carefully stroke, watching over my shoulder for anyone who might come up on us from behind. I began to gently roll her nipple between my fingers. She gasped and clenched her thighs together, I ducked my head under the cover of our cloak and used my tongue and lips instead.

“Yeah… that’s good.” Suri’s hand shook a little, but she didn’t break stride, pumping slowly as I suckled one nipple, then the other to hardness. She dropped her head down, panting, stifling back the moans that strained her throat.

“Think you can be quiet?” I whispered.

She nodded, swallowing hard.

I jerked my head back when I heard tottering drunken footsteps approaching. I casually hooked Suri’s dress back up over her breast and pressed her body in against mine, making sure neither of us were exposed as someone passed into the darkness barely ten feet from where we stood. They turned into one of the apartments, flinging open the door and staggering in. 

As soon as the coast was clear, I jerked the neckline of Suri’s dress back down, and got work with my mouth: circling her nipple with my tongue, and tugging on the other with my fingertips as she discreetly worked her magic under the cover of her skirt. As we heated up, I couldn’t stop my hips from bucking, and neither could she... and when she hiked her dress up and pressed me in against the unseen wetness beneath, I nearly lost it.

“Don’t stop,” she whispered, her voice high and breathy with pleasure. “Please.”

Glasses were clinking together behind us, voices getting louder, but my body was thrumming. As she pressed her neck against my teeth, I bit down and thrust into the warm heat, but the angle was all wrong. I could feel the entrance to her body, rubbing and kissing the head of my cock each time we discreetly pushed against one another, but I couldn’t slip inside.

Her breathing grew both harsher and sweeter as she picked up speed, reaching down to grind her against me and gasping as the points of my fangs broke skin. I bit down harder, and the tension left her body in a shuddering wave of ecstasy. She came in near-silence, clutching my back and gasping softly beside my ear.

There was only a little blood, but the taste was enough to drive me into a frenzy. I was so painfully, frustratingly close. I felt like I’d go crazy: all I wanted to do was turn her around, push her against the wall, and fuck her. Frustrated, I pulled my nails down across her breast, earning another stifled gasp, and thrust between the palm of her hand and her soft, swollen lips as my pleasure built. I had to let go of her neck, pushing back against the wall as the strongest but most frustrating orgasm I’d ever had tore free from the root of my spine and pushed out like a shockwave.

“Fuck!” I growled, and banged my fist back against the pillar wall. My heart was hammering, and I hung onto my self-control by a thread. All I could think of was tearing her dress off, pinning her down on the ground, and fucking her until she was a puddle on the flagstones. I wanted to feel her clench down around me. I wanted to hook her leg over my shoulder, and hear her moan and scream my name.

Suri laughed drunkenly against the side of my neck, back arching underneath my hand. The motion thrust my cock - still mostly hard - between her slick thighs, and my eyes rolled back in my head.

“I’d say we go in for round two, but that might be pushing it.” She whispered. It put her neck close to my nose, and I realized she was still bleeding. I hadn’t bitten her that hard… but hard enough.

“I think it might.” Breathing hard, I backed my hips up and adjusted her underwear and dress back into place, then fumbled with my own clothing. The thrumming drive to fuck was still there, a vibration in my bones. I was amped up, frustrated despite the orgasm, and starving hungry. All I could think about was sex, and food, and moving as fast as possible. Running, yeah… running sounded good. I had a mad, random desire to chase her.

“Race you to the market,” I said, backing up from her. “Speaking of Round Two.”

Suri let out a little laugh of disbelief. “Are you serious? I’m not running anywhere. We stuffed ourselves… did you burn all those calories off already?”

I blinked, and lay a hand on my stomach. It was true that I’d only just eaten – and yet when I checked my sheet, my food meter was almost back down to half.

“Uhh… yeah. I guess we shouldn’t eat anything else before we fly.” I shook my head. It felt fuzzy, hazy. Every time I blinked, I felt my heart stutter and my nerves jump. In the shadow of the apartment, Suri looked more than alluring. I had a mad urge to push her into a run, chase her and… take her to the ground?

I rubbed my eyes, frowned, and shook my head.

Suri leaned in. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah. Dolphin cheese might be trying to come back up.” I forced a smile. “Like every man ever, I’m feeling that Exhaustion debuff after the big event. Don’t worry about me.”

“I will and I am.” Suri took my hand, kissed the back of it, and then pulled me off. “Come on, lover, Let’s get back to Karalti before she shits in Soma’s courtyard.”

It was a long walk and carriage ride back to the College, and by the time we arrived, I achieved a debuff I’d never had before: 

[You are Sleep Deprived! -2 to all stats, -10 to all mental skills, 2x Stamina drain!]

I felt the small drop in stats like a kind of sluggishness, but even so, I was wired when I got out of the carriage. Karalti was waiting for us in the yard outside the warehouses, her nose turned to the sky, her wings flickering with tension by her sides. There were quite a few people hanging back from her, just watching her or praying to one of the Nine as they contemplated their first Real Live Dragon, TM. Rin was already there waiting for us: as a member of our party, she could see our dots on the map.

“Hi guys!” She bounced and waved, loaded down like a Himalayan porter in a backpack almost as tall as she was. Her Artificed familiars, Lovelace and Hopper, were carrying luggage as well. “How did it go? Did you have fun?”

“Lots of fun.” I wagged my eyebrows at Suri. She smirked back to me.

Karalti craned her neck toward us, radiating impatience. “About time you dragged yourself in,” Weren’t planning to back out on me, were you?”

“What? No?” I grunted aloud. “Had a good time. Ate a lot of food. Not enough food, apparently.”

Karalti snorted, and stiffly flexed her wings before sinking down to let us mount. I helped Rin up, then Suri. Rin’s turrets were able to Spider Climb now, so they skittered up like a pair of robot crabs and clung onto the saddle. I followed up last, but as soon as my hand touched Karalti’s wing, a pulse of … something transferred between us, an electrical current that tingled through my nerves in a pleasant wave. The dragon’s scales were hot, as if she’d been flying for miles. Her scent was very strong. Strong and sweet, hanging in my nostrils like perfume.

“You stayed here, right?” I climbed up, far less gracefully than usual – partly due to the Sleep Deprived status, and partly due to the boner that just would not quit. If I was alive, I’d probably be getting ready to go see a doctor. “You didn’t go flying?”

“No.” Her mental voice was terse. “Tell Suri and Rin to buckle in.”

“You could tell her,” I teased.

“I don’t want to.” Karalti got to her feet, shook herself a little, and began to preen her claws and muzzle. “I want to go home. So buckle up and hang on.”