FSE

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Spires

Chapter 64

As Motsumi had explained days before, Hildrith'el's greatest temple was located in the center of the valley's greatest city. The city was called Su'ky, which in the ancient tongue of the foxes actually meant Little Skkye. The great temple was so immense, the group could see its cracked golden dome and the white spire that protruded from it, pointing like a finger to the endless sky long before they ever reached it. The spire was wreathed in pink clouds that swirled it like frosting, and Florian couldn't stop staring at it: it reminded him of the intense erection he'd been resisting for days now.

The outside of the temple was covered in vines, bushes, and encroaching trees that had torn their roots through the white pavement almost defiantly. The wilderness had moved in upon the great temple, almost as if to shield it from the prying eyes of strangers. Florian thought the small forest of moss-shrouded trees surrounding the ancient building only lent to its sense of mystery and danger. It horrified him. Looking upon the temple, he had the grim feeling that only bad things would happen once they'd crossed the threshold, and he was glad to see that Kayya, at least, had enough sense to be afraid. Kayya clung to Zeinara's arm and seemed to shrink into herself, and Zeinara gave her white mane an absent stroke but otherwise kept gawking at the temple. Like Zeinara, everyone else was in awe, staring with their mouths open at the magnificence before them. Even Yeneneshe and her skulking brother Nkwe could not contain their wonder. Florian tried to imagine what it was like for them, coming before the glory of their ancestors, knowing that they came from something . . . instead of nothing. After all, many foxes didn't know what their ancestors were really like, only the lies the dogs perpetuated. According to dog faith, the foxes were a sin and a mistake, creatures formed from the fire of Ayni's angry breath, who was well-known as a demon to the dogs. Ayni was known by the dogs as Azora, a demonic creature who - with her horned lover Atieno -- had always opposed the Creator and created the foxes to anger God. Florian had lived his life in fear, knowing that if it ever became public that his family actually worshipped Ayni - better known as Azora the Burnt by the dogs - they would be publicly executed.

"What is the matter, Florian?" Shakir whispered and rubbed Florian's arm. His brows pressed together with concern.

Florian glanced at Shakir and noticed that while the young dog was not afraid, he was also not in awe of the temple. The desert dogs were well-known for their attempts to mimic the architecture of the ancient foxes. No doubt Shakir had seen such temples before, towering, shining in the sun, perhaps even built to a grander scale. Shakir was unimpressed and unafraid. And he was the only one. It made Florian smile.

Florian turned his face away. "Aren't you ever afraid of anything, love?"

Shakir dropped his eyes as he whispered, "Well . . . there was that day I almost lost you."

Florian sadly squeezed Shakir's fingers.

Azrian stepped forward and lifted her paws, and they watched as the vines, weeds, bushes, and trees parted before her like a green sea, rustling and whispering at her command. It hit Florian for the first time just how tremendously powerful she was, even in her mortal form, and he swallowed visibly.

A pair of doors now towered before them, narrow and golden, woven with designs of flowers and leaves even as real flowers and leaves were still shedding across them like rain. The doors gleamed in the sun so brightly, they were almost painful to look upon. Florian saw Zeinara in particular wince and shield her eyes, and he reminded himself that she was a child of darkness and death: Hildrith'el's light would hurt her more than anyone else. It was no small wonder Zeinara had been burned by S'pru, a place that had been shielded by Hildrith'el's light for two decades.

Azrian opened her arms in a slow sweeping motion, and the golden doors moaned as they opened in time, spreading outward like the welcoming wings of a golden bird. Florian shielded his eyes as light flooded through the doors, caressing him in its warmth. He felt his body relax as the light washed warm over him, but the feeling of foreboding was still there, deep in his chest. Azrian looked very small framed as she was in those open doors. Florian wanted to leap forward and drag her back to safety. He kept thinking something horrible would happen, that a great claw would reach out of the doors and snatch her.

Azrian didn't look back as she said, "Let's go." Her bear-fur hood was down, and her red mane flowing on the wind like fire.

The group filed inside, following Azrian into the light. Florian and Shakir trailed behind everyone else, and Florian was relieved to see Zeinara was not truly harmed by the light of the temple, though it still seemed to repulse her.

The inside of the temple was utterly breathtaking. When Florian found himself standing at the end of a great golden hall, beautiful in its stillness, he couldn't move. Potted plants burst bright green from every corner, while the wilderness had made its way inside the temple, with flowered vines snaking up the walls and grass pushing its defiant way through the smooth floor. The branches of a great tree had forced its way through the ceiling, until buttery sunlight streamed down over the hall in beams that danced with dust motes. One could see the great spire through the crack in the ceiling, rising firm, thick, and unapologetic to the azure sky. Little white birds swept in and out through the crack, and in the stillness, the only sound was their song and the steady trickle of water.

The sound of water was coming from the double rows of waterfalls. Along each side of the great room were archways, each one veiled by a steady stream of clear water. In complete awe of the temple, Motsumi softly explained that each archway was a portal and the water streaming over them would indicate that they'd been activated. The portals could take one anywhere they wished with just a thought and would thus make a convenient escape later when they needed to leave the valley.

Palesa added that the portals were activated with water because Ti'uu - Father of the Water - had activated them with his power over the element. She glanced at Azrian when she spoke, and Florian thought she looked a bit apologetic for having mentioned the god. Azrian didn't say a word, though, and her expression was unreadable. She stood calmly beside Ettoras and Kayya and her eyes were fixed in deep thought on the raised dais in the center of the room.

The dais was atop a great flight of narrow golden stairs. It was situated squarely beneath the cracked hole in the ceiling, and thus, it was sparkling in a sheath of bright light. On the dais was yet another archway, this one very tall and very narrow and pointed at its crown. Unlike the other archways in the great hall, it was not veiled in a cascade of water but glowed with soft white light. Florian's heart skipped a beat: it was the portal to Skkye. Before the portal stood a small altar, its surface dark red with dried blood. Candles still glowed around the blood stains, and bones were scattered there.

"Lord above," Florian muttered incredulously. "Everything was frozen in time. Even the blood."

"Yes, even the sin," said Nkwe quietly, his eyes fixed in dark contemplation on the bloody altar. "Our ancestors made blood sacrifices to quell Hildrith'el's anger after the murder of her children. But no amount of virgin blood could stop her sending the dogs."

There was a pause as Nkwe's words settled over them like the quiet hiss of a snake, and Florian felt once again that he was a hated dog and had no right to be there, in that sacred place, defiling the sacred temple with his presence as his ancestors had once long ago.

"What are we waiting for?" demanded Zeinara. "Let's send the bloody weapons back to Skkye and be done with it! And then let's get out of here. This place creeps me out." She glanced around with a small shiver, and Florian knew she felt the same "you don't belong here" vibe as he.

"No," Motsumi said heavily. "The portal only opens when the moon is high."

"Of course, it does," said Zeinara wearily, and Kayya rubbed her arm to sooth her.

Motsumi smiled sympathetically at Zeinara, as if he was amused by her youthful vigor and impatience. "Possess your soul in serenity, child. I suggest we find some place to rest until the time comes."

"One of the texts we found mentioned that disciples of Hildrith'el kept chambers under the temple," Ettoras pointed out. "We're probably standing over dozens of beds."

"Lord, you want to sleep under here?" Florian muttered, peering with unease at the bloody altar.

"It'll be alright, Florian," Palesa said, sounding very amused by Florian's discomfort. She smiled over her shoulder at him, her long gray mane sweeping aside like a veil. "The entire temple is shielded in protective magic. The creatures can not reach us here."

"But anyone could come through those portals," Nkwe pointed out, nodding grimly at the water-veiled archways surrounding them. "They're all active, remember?"

"Two of us will remain here to guard the hall. The rest will head downstairs," Motsumi announced.

"But first," said Azrian, unbuttoning her bear-fur coat, "let's have lunch, huh?" Everyone looked at her and she smiled. "I'm starving."

There was a great brazier in the center of the white floor, burning with white fire. Nkwe used it to prepare lunch, though he complained the entire time that it was pretty much sacrilege to use a holy brazier for such a mundane purpose. Lunch consisted of the golden hare stew that was leftover from their journey to the temple, and thus, it left everyone in a good mood. Palesa and Motsumi drew short straws for first watch, and Florian thought it was just as well. The last thing he wanted was the discomfort of being near Motsumi while he tried to get to sleep.

As everyone was packing up and preparing to go beneath the temple, Florian approached Palesa with his paws in his pockets. She sat on the floor, perched on her knees, as she struggled to shut her backpack. Florian glanced at the backpack and grimly remembered that it had belonged to Wilmer. Palesa was trying to close it but her paws were shaking. Florian couldn't tell if she was shaking with exhaustion or nerves or sorrow. Perhaps all three. He knelt beside her and helped her close the backpack, drawing the string tight.

"Tevelis," Palesa muttered. Thank you. She pushed her gray mane behind her ear and smiled at Florian. There were lines around her eyes. Florian thought she looked exhausted. "You know, if it weren't for your eyes," she said, "I wouldn't recognize you at all. Twenty years is a long time."

Florian snorted wearily. "You're telling me. You foxes are lucky. You don't look a day over nineteen."

Palesa's lips curled in a half-smile, and Florian knew she was probably 219.

"Where will you go once all this is over?" Florian asked her. "When we return the relics, I mean."

Palesa shrugged, glancing over at Motsumi, who was standing out of earshot as he examined his yellow arrows. "Back to the forest, to our lives." She glanced sadly at Wilmer's backpack, and Florian knew that for her, there was no going back. Not without Wilmer.

"Avell, Palesa," Florian said softly. I'm sorry, Palesa.

Palesa didn't look up. "For what?"

Florian took a trembling breath and shrugged, sliding his paws in his pockets again. "For everything? For Wilmer. For the very existence of those bloody relics. For Alexandria. . . . for me." It had occurred to him that he hadn't been the only Carrington to molest Palesa: Alexandria had as well.

"You were a child," Palesa said, looking away. He thought her lip trembled.

Florian laughed sourly. "And a rotten child. I hope I'm worthy of you now. I certainly wasn't then."

Palesa laughed sadly. "Worthy of what, exactly?"

"Your friendship," Florian said with a sad frown. "I've . . . never had a friend before. I'd like to try. If you go to the forest when all this is over, I'd like to come with you."

Palesa lifted her eyes and looked at Florian in surprise. But she placed her paw on Florian's arm and rubbed it in silent approval. Glancing past her mane, Florian saw Shakir smiling at them.

"We've been talking," Florian went on, and his lips spread in a slow smile, "and Shakir would like to come as well."

Palesa glanced in surprise at Shakir, who was standing several feet away. She looked at Florian and her face lit up with a smile. "Oh, Florian! You have accepted Zuu'ma's healing light? This is wonderful!"

Florian smiled under her praise, but he frowned when Palesa's expression darkened with sadness and she cupped his cheek with one slender paw.

"Florian . . . if something should happen tonight, if I should die --"

Florian frowned. "Palesa --!"

"Listen to me!" Palesa said over him and gave him a little shake that silenced him. "If I should die, _please_care for Motsumi. He would be all alone in the world . . . I couldn't stand the thought. Promise me?"

Palesa's nails stung Florian, she was gripping him so hard. And her eyes were so wide and desperate, Florian nodded and whispered hoarsely, "I promise." Something in his chest sank like led when Palesa gave him a trembling kiss on the cheek.

The disciple quarters beneath the temple were immaculate rows of narrow beds with stainless white sheets. The walls were barren, dark brown clay. The entire placed was devoid of decoration but for one bright orange flower that'd been left in a glass of water on a nightstand. Florian immediately went for the bed beside the flower, anything to have some color near him in what was an otherwise depressing atmosphere.

"Bit like a monastery, isn't it?" Florian muttered as he sat on the edge of his bed and loosened his collar.

Zeinara sat on the bed opposite Florian and nodded in agreement as she glanced around in disdain. Beside her, Kayya was getting settled on their bed, thrusting her big breasts in a stretch and yawning as she pushed her mane behind her shoulders. "Nothing can kill the romance quicker than dour walls and beds made of rock," Zeinara said, winning a snort of laughter from Florian when she gave her bed a pat and pretended it had broken her paw.

Kayya fell to giggling at Zeinara's antics, so Zeinara smiled mischievously and tickled her slender waist. The young vixen squirmed to escape, big breasts heaving, and Yeneneshe glanced their way before rolling her eyes.

"Go for that place behind her thigh!" Ettoras called, laughing boyishly as he watched the play.

Zeinara bit her tongue and tickled Kayya where her brother had indicated.

"Eee! Ettoras, you traitor!" Kayya wailed indignantly. "No, no!" she begged of Zeinara, laughing as she squirmed to escape, hugging her big breasts until they were crushed together wonderfully. She fell over on Zeinara's lap, sighing with laughter. Zeinara smiled down at her with soft eyes and stroked her mane.

"Alright, that's enough," Pili scolded. "Settle down and get some rest, your majesties."

Zeinara rolled her eyes as Ettoras obeyed.

Florian thought Pili looked on the verge of crumbling. The assassin's thick dark mane was mussed, her eyes were lined and tired, and she was pacing back and forth near Zeinara and Kayya, her paw anxiously gripping the dagger in her belt. Like the others, she was not only in awe of the temple, she was also afraid. Very afraid. As a dog, Florian knew she could feel the anger, the outrage and the pain that echoed throughout Su'ky, screaming for them - the filthy dogs - to leave. Perhaps she felt it more than any other dog in the group, because Florian thought she looked visibly drained.

Zeinara frowned with concern. "Pili . . . sit down, will you? You're likely to pop a vein."

Pili scowled and kept pacing. "This is not the time for your jokes, your majesty. We are in real danger!" She waved an impatient paw at Ettoras. "Can't you be like your brother for once? Just lie down. Just behave! By the Creator, what I wouldn't give to just throw you across my knee!"

Florian glanced at Ettoras and saw he was already sleeping soundly on his bed, completely untroubled: the prince of the sky was more fox than dog, it seemed. Yeneneshe was in his arms, smiling to herself as his hot breath ruffled her white mane. Her eyes were closed, but somehow, Florian knew she hadn't yet dropped off. Florian glanced around for Yeneneshe's brother and was surprised to realize Nkwe was acutely absent. The reason for Pili's frayed nerves was suddenly apparent: was Nkwe upstairs with Palesa?

Azrian was absent as well, and Florian was wondering if he shouldn't go looking for her when he felt Shakir's paws on his shoulders. The small black dog was helping him unbutton his shirt, massaging his shoulders for him, silently coaxing him to lie down and sleep. Florian smiled and sank down on the bed, letting Shakir snuggle into his arm.

Zeinara looked at Pili in shock for her outburst, and her growing concern became more apparent when her face smoothed with sadness. "Alright, Pili," she said quietly, and without protesting, she lay down beside Kayya and closed her eyes.

Pili halted in surprise. Clearly, she hadn't expected Zeinara to actually obey her. After taking a moment to register her shock, she sat on the edge of Zeinara's bed, hesitated, and touched the princess' golden mane with tender affection.

"Goodnight, Pili," Zeinara whispered, smiling when Kayya's arm slipped around her waist. She looked Pili in the eyes and her expression was warm.

Florian couldn't believe it when Pili's usually-hard face softened and she whispered, "Goodnight, your majesty. And sweet dreams, my girl."

Florian didn't remember when he fell asleep, but when he woke up again, Pili was gone. In a sudden panic, he sat up and looked around. Everyone else was sleeping. Ettoras and Yeneneshe, Zeinara and Kayya, the four youths were sleeping soundly in the stillness of the brown, cold room, while Shakir slept in the bed beside Florian, smiling in his sleep. The sound of their breathing would have been soothing if the acute absence of Pili, Azrian, and Nkwe didn't horrify Florian. Where were they? What was going on? Something had to be going on. Something was always going on.

"Mm . . ." moaned Shakir behind Florian and sat up on his elbow. "What's the matter, Flori? Can't sleep?"

Florian frowned. "Shakir, something's wrong. I should go and find Palesa. She m-might . . ." His voice trailed away when Shakir slipped his paw in his pants and closed his fingers on him in a firm massage.

"Ohh . . . Sh-Shakir . . .?"

"Shh . . . I can help you sleep," Shakir whispered huskily and lowered his head in Florian's lap. The sound of gentle slurping soon rose above the sound of gentle breathing.

***

Nkwe didn't know how it happened, but he wound up in the garden with Palesa riding his cock. Originally, he came to her only to say goodbye. He knew they would be going their separate ways once the weapons were returned to Skkye and wanted to say his final farewells to her. He and Pili had already decided to use one of the portals to journey to Mosela, the forest at the end of the world. It was the place where Nkwe and Mogethis had raised Zeinara as a little girl, the place where he and Mogethis knew freedom from dog tyranny and oppression for the first time in their lives, the place where he . . . fell in love with Taiga.

It wasn't until they left Mosela that life seemed to turn sour for them. But Mogethis had been adamant that they should return "to the homeland," that homeland being Poston. Mogethis wanted to see her home again before she died, wanted to show Poston to Zeinara, wanted Zeinara to know who she and Nkwe were and where they came from. When Nkwe protested, Mogethis accused him of being ashamed of Yfel and his roots, but in reality, Nkwe was afraid for Zeinara. And he was right. As soon as they left Mosela, the dogs began to hound them, hunting them for their pelts, chasing them under the assumption that they had kidnapped Zeinara, who they thought was a dog pup. Things became so dangerous that they knew they would be unable to get back to Mosela without being followed. One night, they finally decided to give Zeinara to Etienne because they knew it was the only way to keep her safe. It was the most difficult decision either of them had ever made. But they made it for Zeinara.

When Nkwe arrived in the main hall of the temple that afternoon, it was to find Motsumi and Palesa having an intimate discussion around the brazier of white fire. Nkwe asked Palesa to come with him for a walk, as he wanted to say goodbye. They wound up wandering into a garden that stood adjacent to the temple. Nkwe immediately recognized it as a scrying garden, a place where priests came to communicate not only with the gods in Skkye but with other foxes across long distances. Trees stood everywhere, slender and white, and in the side of each tree was carved a bowl that silently offered a small amount of clear water, through which the priests would look to scry. The water reflected the sunlight, the treetops and flowers, like a mirror. As they walked through the sea of mirrors, Palesa informed Nkwe that another identical garden stood on the other side of the temple, with both gardens meeting around the back, hugging the temple like two paws coming together as arms hugged a lover.

"A curious analogy," Nkwe said quietly.

Palesa snorted. "I can't mention the word lover without it pertaining to you?" she demanded, lifting her brows and not looking at Nkwe as a sad smirk twisted her lips.

"No," Nkwe returned calmly. "I know about Wilmer . . . Honey, I'm so sorry." He took Palesa's paw. "Don't do anything foolish because you miss him. . . . please."

"My life is mine to do with what I will," Palesa said calmly. She dropped her eyes and swallowed hard. "Don't be sorry. I'll be with him soon enough."

Nkwe halted in his tracks and sneered at her. "Don't be foolish."

Palesa lifted her eyes and they were full of tears. She laughed. "But, Nkwe . . . that's what love is."

Nkwe shook his head and touched her face. "Then I must be a fool too."

They kissed. And kisses led to groping. And groping led to unbuttoning. And unbuttoning led to Nkwe on his back in the grass as Palesa squeezed her tight pussy down over his erection. With tears in her eyes, she braced her paws on his belly and slowly gyrated her hips, sending him to heaven with every deep twist. He grabbed her hips and helped her, staring with glazed eyes at her high breasts. They were the high breasts of a girl, peeking out from the unbuttoned front of her deerskin dress, trembling each time she moved her hips, until the moisture was seeping between the clenching of her pussy lips and over his sack. He smiled: her buttons were made of acorns.

"This . . . isn't goodbye . . ." Nkwe panted. He reached up and touched Palesa's face. "You are going to live. Do you hear me?"

Palesa only frowned sadly and shook her head. Her lip trembled and Nkwe couldn't stand it. He pulled her down close, wrapped her in his arms, and pressed his hips up and in. Her cleavage crushed against his chest as her shrill gasps sounded in his ear. He thrust himself hard between her clenching pussy lips, and when she gasped with renewed pleasure, he grabbed her backside and thrust harder. Her soft screams echoed through the garden, echoed across the still water standing in every basin, and it was then that he noticed Pili standing there.

***

Yeneneshe heard the slurping before she opened her eyes. Lying in Ettoras' arms, she looked over and went still when she saw Shakir on his knees between Florian's thighs. Shakir's head was going up and down very fast, and Florian looked as if he was going to sneeze. The prince's pants were around his ankles and his thighs were trembling. Shakir was completely naked, his soft black buttocks resting pert on the heels of his feet. He grunted as he sucked with wild abandon on Florian's cock, and Florian was so lost in the warm, wet feel of lips and tongue that a line of drool was falling from his mouth.

Florian eventually realized Yeneneshe was watching in wide-eyed fascination. He blushed with shame, and Yeneneshe was surprised: she didn't think his red fur could get any redder. But he didn't stop Shakir from sucking him. He reached absently and found Shakir's head and stroked his mane, but his eyes as he looked at Yeneneshe were apologetic and ashamed.

Yeneneshe couldn't understand why Florian should feel ashamed. She wished she could make Ettoras drool like that. Perhaps Shakir could be her teacher. She watched for a long time as Shakir paused between sucking to lick and slurp on Florian's cock like some sort of candy. Sometimes he spit on it, watching with narrowed eyes as the saliva rolled warm down the throbbing shaft. When Shakir felt Yeneneshe watching, his lips twisted in a smirk, and he extended his tongue, turning his head so that Yeneneshe could see him actually licking Florian's heavy sack. Florian tensed up when his sack was licked, and Yeneneshe could see pre-cum oozing from the head of his cock. Shakir licked the pre-cum away with the tip of his tongue and went back to sucking long and warm, closing his eyes and moaning.

Suddenly determined to learn, Yeneneshe gently pried herself from Ettoras' arms. She sat up, and after hesitating, she grabbed his tight pants and yanked them open, revealing the soft penis that was tucked away inside. Ettoras came awake with a gasp to find Yeneneshe sitting over him, staring at his soft cock with hungry eyes. He looked at her in amazement, and Yeneneshe almost laughed when he bashfully covered himself with both paws.

"Y-Yen!" Ettoras sputtered. "What are y-y. . . .?" His voice trailed to silence when her mouth closed on him. "Ohh. . . ."

Yeneneshe gulped as she felt Ettoras getting hard, filling her mouth, swelling against her tongue until her cheeks had welled up in her eyes. Now he and Florian were both aroused, two spires standing tall for all the world to see.

Yeneneshe closed her eyes and remembered what she had learned from Nkwe, what she had learned from watching Shakir. She licked her lips until they were silky smooth and devoured Ettoras in long, hungry sucks that made his wings shiver. She was very proud of herself when she licked his sack and saw his toes curl. Her small paws rubbed his belly and sides as she sucked wetly and quickly. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Shakir sucking Florian just as fast and almost felt as if she were in a race with him. Which one of them could make their dick come faster? She almost laughed. But she was determined to learn. When Shakir paused to curl his tongue against Florian's cock, Yeneneshe did the same thing, flexing her tongue and slurping the shaft until Ettoras sputtered and pre-cum seeped from his head. When Shakir kissed down Florian's sack to his shaft, Yeneneshe did the same to Ettoras. Shakir nodded in approval, and Yeneneshe realized he was a willing teacher. The young black dog then cupped and massed Florian's sack - which seemed to make him go wild - and as he was massaging his sack, he devoured his naked shaft hungrily, only pausing to lick and let his drool slide down it. As he was pleasuring Florian, he glanced at Yeneneshe with a small nod, as if silently instructing her to proceed.

Yeneneshe copied Shakir, doing everything he had done with just as much hunger, with just as much tenderness, with just as much enthusiasm. Before long, Ettoras was sitting up and Yeneneshe was on her knees between his thighs, her head going up and down as fast as Shakir's was. She glanced over and noticed Florian watching with narrowed eyes as Ettoras was pleasured, and she smiled to herself and rubbed her small paws up and down Ettoras' muscular thighs, thinking, All mine.

Ettoras and Florian came in unison and cried out in unison, their cocks flexing and heaving as they sputtered in sweet release. Yeneneshe heard Shakir choking and swallowing even as her own mouth was flooded with the hot taste of Ettoras' come. Ettoras whispered an apology as she struggled to swallow, but she wasn't angry. She had wanted the taste of him, and now she had it. And she was glad to see he was still hard. Ettoras put his paw on her cheek in concern, but without warning, she shoved him on his back and straddled his lap. He stared in amazement as she hitched up her skirts and looking him in the eye, she slowly lowered her pussy over the thick width of him.

Ettoras frowned with pleasure. "Oh . . . oh, Yen . . ."

Yeneneshe closed her eyes and moved her hips in a slow grind. Ettoras felt . . . incredible inside her. When she looked down at him, his eyes were soft and warm. Something in her melted, and she touched his face, her young slender body moving on top of him in slow rhythm. He smoothed his paws up her thighs and pushed her dress up, and she knew he was looking at the pink split of her sex as it clenched on his cock. With narrowed eyes, he licked his thumb and massaged her fat little clit with it, and she gasped as her pleasure intensified, as her nipples hardened and her body convulsed. Her head fell back, and she continued to grind her hips, and somewhere in the back of her mind, she wondered why there was no pain. Wasn't it supposed to hurt the first time? But it only felt delicious. She found herself swooning back as the prince's thick cock continued stroking inside her, as his fingers gently guided her clit to throbbing arousal, as his paws groped and massaged her breasts and buttocks in fistfuls. She was vaguely aware of Shakir on the next bed, moaning as he rode Florian's cock, as Florian caressed his penis and grabbed his backside in much the same manner.

"F-Flori . . ." Shakir panted. "Come inside me . . . come inside . . ."

"Come on me," Florian panted back. "Come in my paw, baby."

"Yeneneshe . . . I . . . I l-love you . . ." Ettoras whispered helplessly.

Still moving her hips in a slow, grinding motion, Yeneneshe looked down at Ettoras from her long veil of white hair and smiled. She felt her clit throbbing harder, and as Ettoras caressed it, her pussy clenched on him, and she gasped helplessly as she squirted. Over on the next bed, Shakir came at the same time, squirting in Florian's fist. Twin jets of arousal exploded in unison, spiraling through the air and hitting their targets with a soft splat.

Ettoras licked his lips when Yeneneshe's cum hit his face. He sat up, looking tired and happy, and wrapped her in his arms. Yeneneshe smiled as the prince's wings closed around them, smiled as Ettoras showered her with kisses. Over on the next bed, she could see Florian holding Shakir between his legs, could see the lovers kissing.

"I love you, Yeneneshe," Ettoras whispered again, and Yeneneshe melted when he rubbed his nose against hers.

"It didn't happen!" Yeneneshe realized with sudden wonder.

"Yeah, it did," Ettoras returned with a laugh. "It's all over my face."

Yeneneshe laughed softly. "No! I mean the prophecy, my name! I didn't bend and take."

Ettoras smiled into her eyes. "You mean you haven't yet."

***

Pili moved her hips slowly on Nkwe's cock, peering across his hard, subdued body at Palesa, who was sitting on Nkwe's face, her deerskin dress open, her eyes hooded as Nkwe's moaning tongue pleasured her to dripping arousal. Palesa's nipples stood hard from the plump melons that were her breasts. Pili was amused to see Palesa's breasts and shoulders were speckled red and gray. She was moving her hips against Nkwe's tongue, and each time she did, her full breasts would tremble between her arms. Her paws were braced on Nkwe's belly as she rode his face, and Pili was also leaning her paws on Nkwe's belly as she rode Nkwe's cock. She and Palesa looked at each other, panting, breasts bare, their manes wild and mussed in their faces, both moving their hips in deep circles to wring as much pleasure from Nkwe as they possibly could.

Pili knew how much Palesa meant to Nkwe. One night as they were resting in one of the abandoned homes, he told her. He confessed everything. And Pili listened patiently and with her heart in her throat. If she was honest with herself, she had always had feelings for Nkwe. Her disgust for his religion, her distrust for his kind, it had kept her from submitting to those feelings but they were there. And listening to him talk with such sorrow about Palesa and their lives as foxes, she suddenly understood that he had always felt the same way about her: Nkwe hated_the dogs and their religion, and yet, such feelings did not stop him from taking an interest in Pili, from feeling attracted to her, from even admiring her and recognizing the value in who she was, regardless of _what she was.

As they cuddled together in the darkness, Nkwe told Pili that Palesa was his past and there was no erasing the past: he was not going to fall out of love with Palesa. All he could do was distance himself physically from Palesa, and it was then that he suggested they go to Mosela to live, to start new lives for themselves in peace. Pili had been only too content to agree. She was tired of the isolation, tired of the loneliness, and she wanted Nkwe. She loved him, had always loved him, perhaps since she was a girl working in Wychowl's kitchens. She remembered how he would come to the kitchen to complain about something she had put in his supper, and looking back now, she knew it had just been his excuse to see her. He was ashamed of his attraction because she was so young and he so very old, because she was a dog and he a fox. How long had he resisted her charms? And now he was down in the grass, moaning as she made love to him.

Pili was startled when Palesa suddenly kissed her on the lips. Pili's lashes fluttered and she felt a thrill of arousal when Palesa cupped one of her breasts and gently massaged. Their heads twisted as they kissed, as their tongues explored, and Palesa's lips gently peeled away, wet and warm. Pili had never kissed or touched another female before and was ashamed when she opened her eyes to find her paw on Palesa's breast. She hastily removed it and Palesa smiled. Pili thought Palesa had the big, girlish eyes of a doe.

"Nkwe truly cares for you," Palesa said softly. She frowned. "Take care of him?"

Pili hesitated. Why did she sense such foreboding in that request? "I . . . I will."

Palesa nodded. "Good." She smiled again, then slowly rose from Nkwe's face and buttoned her dress.

Nkwe sat up and hugged Pili in his lap, but he watched Palesa with concern. Palesa didn't say a word. She leaned down, her gray mane sweeping forward over her shoulder, and she kissed Nkwe on the lips. Nkwe didn't appear to want to end the kiss, but she guided his mouth to Pili's, and his lips wound up touching hers. Pili moved her hips again, and when she felt Nkwe heaving inside her, she fell to kissing him passionately. His paws were all over her body, suddenly frantic with desire, and as they made wild love down in the grass, neither of them noticed Palesa sadly walking away.

***

Palesa wandered north through the garden, letting Nkwe and Pili fall further and further behind. She could still hear them grunting as they made love, and she smiled to herself as she walked away: that was the way it should be. She found it somewhere between amusing and sad. Amusing because Nkwe always swore he was incapable of love, sad because Palesa had waited for years for Nkwe to love her back. How long did Nkwe avoid love, deny it, reject it? And now he was making frantic love in the grass to a dog who wasn't his victim but his lover.

Nkwe didn't love Palesa when they were together over one hundred years ago, this she knew. He didn't love her, but he came very close, so close that it frightened him and he left her, never to be seen again. Nkwe broke Palesa in half when he left her, because she had truly loved him, and it hurt very deeply that he refused to give in, that he refused to feel the same. He refused to even try.

Now, how many decades later, Nkwe was different. He was softer. Weak. Vulnerable. Someone had finally gotten to him. As they were sitting on watch together, Palesa asked and he eventually confessed that he'd fallen in love with a female, a fox named Taiga: Zeinara's mother. Suddenly, it all became clear. At first Palesa thought Nkwe had become sensitive and soft because he was a father to Zeinara, but it was more than that. Taiga had gotten to him, had forced him to grow a heart, had melted the hard exterior he'd always hidden so stalwartly behind.

Palesa was happy for Nkwe, but at the same time . . . she was terribly sad. The fact that it took Nkwe nearly two hundred years to fall in love with her . . . was painful. Perhaps he hadn't loved her before, but he certainly cared for her now. It was there, in the fear of his glance, in the clutch of his paw. He wanted her to live and be happy, but Palesa knew that without Wilmer, happiness was impossible. She had lived a long life and all she'd ever wanted was to be loved. Wilmer had given her that for twenty years. Why should she linger here when her heart ached for his arms again?

The sun was setting when Palesa reached the northern most point of the garden, which was the very back of the great temple. Trees stood all around, cradling small basins of water in the watery pink and gold of the fading day. She thought she caught a glimpse of Wilmer's face in one of the bowls as she was passing, but she was too afraid to go back and look again. Either way, she would be seeing him very soon. She would know sweet release. And there was only one who could give it to her.

Palesa came to a stop when she found herself face to face with Mogethis.