“Now that that’s settled, may I have some of the magic you have given to these other women?” Brynhild picked up a mail tunic and held it up to her chest.
“No,” was all Hekate said to that.
Brynhild didn’t press her.
In silence, the group armored themselves. Naevia found a bow with just the right tension. Dellia found a sword weighted perfectly. Cassia chose a bow and a long dagger. The three of them slipped into lorica squamata that looked like dragon scale and glinted in the firelight. It all fit perfectly. Vel selected a shield, a mail tunic, and a short sword. Brynhild took the staff and some light armor.
“So, it looks like we’re ready.” Vel looked over his women and the sorceress. “How do we get there? I don’t suppose they’ll leave the front gate open for us?”
“There is one more.” Hekate stood and held out her arms in invitation.
A door on the far end of the room opened. A woman strode in with purpose. She was tall, naked, and her pale skin had a bluish tint to it. She looked to be about thirty years old. Her breasts were modest and high, and her hips somewhat narrow. The woman’s hair was the same copper color as her aunt’s.
“Welcome, Daughter.” Hekate smiled and moved swiftly across the floor, her arms still open. She pulled the woman into an embrace. “This is Circe, daughter of mortal and god.” Hekate held Circe away from her with six firm hands and smiled. “My, you’ve grown. Come meet your daughter, Vel.”
Vel’s armor rang musically as he awkwardly walked over to Circe. He bowed in a formal greeting, but the naked woman pulled him into a tight hug. He was surprised by her height; she was just about even with him. But why should anything surprise him about her?
“I’ve so looked forward to meeting you, Father.” Circe had a bright, dimpled smile that lit the room. “I am quite happy with my gift. Thank you.”
“Your gift?” Vel tried not to look down at her tits. Her nipples were a captivating purplish color.
“Life. You and Mother gave me the gift of life.” Circe kissed Vel on the cheek. She looked past him at the others. “It is lovely to meet all of you.” She stepped away from Vel and curtsied. “My grandmother, the former Duchess of Ostia Novus. Well met.” She curtsied again. “Aunt Naevia. You are as beautiful as I imagined.” She rushed up to Naevia, towering over her. She lowered her head so their matching hair overlapped. “You can tell we’re related.”
“Indeed.” Naevia stared, wide-eyed, at this miracle of a creature.
“Cousin Dellia.” Circe pulled a sword from the cart and, like lightning, moved over to her cousin. She had the tip of the sword kissing Dellia’s armor before Dellia could move. The room froze.
Dellia laughed. “You are a quick one. Next time I’ll be ready.” She drew her sword and pushed Circe’s blade away from her breast. She glanced at Naevia with a meaning that clearly said, What the fuck was that?
“Shall I provision myself like the others, Mother?” Circe made no greeting to Brynhild. Indeed, she gave no indication she had even seen the sorceress.
“Yes, you are to go with them.” Hekate sat back down in her chair, her jaw set in pride and satisfaction.
“Very well.” Circe set about dressing and arming herself. The crowd in the room watched her in silence. There was some measure of awe, like they had all been joined by a tiger.
As his daughter attached a third sword to her belt, Vel roused himself. “So, I ask again. How do we get there? And while you’re at it, you might tell us what it is we’re supposed to do. How does one destroy a wicked tower?”
Hekate smiled at her daughter with obvious delight and said nothing.
“I can answer this.” Day Star crossed one leg over the other and pulled at his trousers so they wouldn’t wrinkle. “You will use your magic. We have here a stone chipped from what is now the top of the tower. Cassia, Naevia, and Dellia will touch this and focus on moving to that spot. The other three will hold on and travel with them. No one should see you coming.”
“And what are we to do there?” Naevia frowned. She felt a tingling in her fingers. The magic was itching to release.
“We’ve told you this before. You must find Princess Minicia and rescue her. Then you must find the heart of the tower.” Here Day Star frowned. “This was the piece of the puzzle that the queens regent unwound on their own. Their uncle tried all manner of objects, but nothing worked. They have hidden the heart from us, so we’re not sure what or where it is. But you will know it when you see it. And with luck, it will draw you to it. Destroy it, and then magic yourselves far away, for the tower will fall without its heart.”
“This is insane.” Dellia looked down at her burgeoning belly, not all that well hidden by the metal dragon scales.
“Insane or not, it is time. Ready yourselves. We send you on your way with –” Hekate was cut off by a hiss, a flash of azure light, and the Lady Norbana falling from the ceiling and landing with a bounce in an unoccupied armchair. “Well, this is a surprise.”
Everyone in the room turned toward Norbana. They could all plainly see that she was also about halfway through a pregnancy.
“What have you done to me?” Norbana’s face was quite pale and her teeth chattered. She tried, unsuccessfully, to burrow her way into the armchair.
“It seems your desires came into alignment with the others.” Hekate cocked her head at the lady, surveying her. “You did this to yourself. There’s nothing to do now but ready yourself. Find some gear and prepare to fight.”
“Fight?” Norbana looked close to fainting. “I’m a lady. I can’t possibly.”
“This looks about the right size.” Brynhild tossed a dragon-scale tunic at the woman. “Put it on.”
“Oh, my.” Norbana looked around the room. She caught sight of Hekate’s imposing figure, and then the body of the hideous Discordia in the corner. “Oh, my… my… my… my.”
“Easy, Brynhild.” Vel walked over and offered Norbana his hand. “Come with me. It’ll be alright.” As she took his hand, Vel thought he’d never told a more bald-faced lie. There was no way things were going to be all right.
~~
The workmen were quite surprised when Vel and his party dropped out of nothing onto the top of the tower. One man lost his balance on the scaffolding and pitched over the side. His scream faded for a long time until it became a high-pitched squeak and vanished.
“They’re fleeing down the stairs. Shall I stop them?” Circe drew her longest sword and held it angled over her copper hair.
Seeing this, Dellia drew her blade.
“Let them go. They are not soldiers.” Vel watched the flood of men scramble down the narrow opening to the stairs. When they were gone, he walked to the edge of the circle they stood on. The top of the tower had jagged stone walls that were partially finished, about three feet high. There was also timber framework for several internal walls. It was clear that the tower would go higher if construction carried on uninterrupted. He looked over the side and felt his equilibrium wobble. He couldn’t see the palace below. There was a long stretch of empty air, and then churning clouds, coiling around the lower stretch of the tower. “How high are we?”