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Pili's Pie

Chapter 36

As they were passing through the manor grounds, it suddenly occurred to Zeinara that she'd been at Canderly Manor at least a month. The last message from Motsumi had been a week before. It was a signal in the sky, a distant light conjured of his magic, which meant their friends were still out there, waiting for the right moment to rescue them.

Wilmer kept assuring Zeinara that Motsumi and Palesa would come for them, that everything would be fine in the end, and that even if it wasn't fine, he was right there with her. And she smiled at Wilmer and hugged him like a teddy bear. Wilmer was a godsend in those earliest days at Canderly.

The day after Zeinara surrendered to Jule, he married her in the garden of Canderly's little chapel, under the gazebo, under the stars. And it might have been romantic if it wasn't some twisted shotgun wedding, where he kept assuring her in soothing whispers that her mother would be proud, Maret would be proud, it was all for the good of Aonre. Every time Jule spoke of Zeinara's mother, she wanted to slap him. He seemed to believe that talking about Taiga would pacify her. He seemed to believe that so long as she thought she was doing something that would have pleased Taiga, she would never run away. In truth, Zeinara never ran away because she knew either Pili or Motsumi or someone would come to rescue her. It was only a matter of time.

On their wedding night, as Jule awkwardly groped her breasts and shoved his way inside her, Zeinara closed her eyes and reminded herself that Pili was coming for him. Once Etienne received Jule's threatening letter, there was no way in hell he wouldn't send Pili, and Jule was a moron for not seeing it. Pili hated the McIntyres so much, Zeinara knew she'd be more than happy to slaughter them all. And if Pili didn't come, then Zeinara would have to risk open war by killing Jule her damn self.

Jule climaxed inside Zeinara as the white bed sheets rose like icing around them. The moment she felt the hot blast, she screamed, kicked, and fought him. No! She couldn't have his child! But he seemed adamant that she should. Every night after the wedding, he came to Zeinara and made love to her. He didn't seem to have a clue how to arouse her, and after several attempts to entice her nipples and her clitoris, he gave up trying to make her wet and took her with lubricant. The sex, however, remained awful and awkward simply because she didn't want it.

She could be carrying his child. The very thought horrified her, to the point that Wilmer would return to her bedchamber to find her weeping bitterly into her pillows.

Wilmer would come to Zeinara when she was crying, and he'd sit beside her and stroke her mane. He was such a sweet, such a gentle male. And before she even realized it, Zeinara had come to love and respect him as a good friend. He was loyal and protective, even taking a blow from Jule once when he protested the marquis' cruel treatment of her. His jokes were amazingly terrible, and he had a lopsided smile that never failed to make her smile in return. Zeinara thought she understood how Palesa could love Wilmer.

And given the way Wilmer often stared at Pili, Zeinara thought she had an inkling as to what he saw in Palesa: Wilmer was attracted to strong, capable females. He liked females who could kill with precision and skill, who could take charge, who were dominate. Pili charging into the room with that hard glint in her eye had probably set his arousal bells off. Pili was a fierce killer. And Palesa was definitely of the caliber.

During Zeinara's time at Canderly, Jule had allowed Wilmer to continue as Zeinara's "servant," and the Dalmatian was also allowed to go wherever he pleased in the manor, provided he didn't go outside the gates. Wilmer was thus able to keep Zeinara up to date on what was happening in Osterwill. He was also able to intercept Pili's message before Tabitha le Frey got her grubby paws on it.

The night she found herself hostage at Canderly, Zeinara attended the ball and pretended everything was fine, that she wasn't, in fact, being held at Canderly against her will. The foxhound nobles were in awe of her slender figure and rising cleavage as she sat on high in the magnificent gown Jule had presented her. They bowed before her and each came to her feet, expressing their sentiments for her father, praising her "choice" to marry Jule, remarking that she and the marquis made a fine match, and eternally grateful to have just a glance of her eyes.

Zeinara hated wearing the goddamned ballgown. Because the dress had been given to her in order to pacify her. Like a child. Jule saw her as a wild and unruly child.

At Zeinara's request, Wilmer remained at her side throughout the ball, silently waiting on her, bringing her drinks and kerchiefs and whatever she required, but never failing to insult some noble under his breath, until Zeinara was grinning and smiling with all sincerity. Because of Wilmer, no one ever suspected that she was a prisoner, bidding her time, waiting for Pili's inevitable rescue. And for the sake of keeping the peace, that was just the way it should stay. If word spread that Varimore was actually at odds with Maldoene, it could mean war, and it would only fan the flames of Prince Adrian's rallying cry. It was far better for Pili to quietly rescue Zeinara and take the princess home.

Zeinara wasn't certain she wanted to go home with a baby in her belly, though. She kept wondering how she could possibly face her father - especially after all the arguing they'd done - with the news that she was pregnant but wasn't quite certain who the father was. Was it the Ravisher, the fallen god and demon of the fox pantheon? Or was it Jule, her power hungry and petulant distant cousin? Either way, she would rather die.

The fact that Zeinara was not a virgin on their wedding night was not lost on Jule, who seemed just as concerned that Zeinara might be pregnant, to the point that he had the local physician take a look at her. Zeinara would never forget the burning humiliation of sitting with her legs spread as the old doctor looked between. It mightn't have been so bad if the male weren't a drooling lecher, who looked at her with lusty eyes and made a point of caressing the lips of her sex as he examined her. Wilmer called him on it the first time he attempted the molestation, and a furious Jule had the doctor removed from the manor. Zeinara hadn't seen him since and wondered if he wasn't dead.

Jule then told Zeinara that if she were pregnant, he would have the child quietly disposed of and it wouldn't suffer. He spoke as if he were comforting her, sitting on the side of her bed, stroking her mane as she wept, all affection and calm as he casually spoke of discarding her newborn! With her back to him as she lay in the bed, she ground her fangs with hatred, silently counting the days until Pili would arrive to sink a dagger in his eye.

Zeinara knew that Jule's fear was not born of snobbery alone but also of a church indoctrinated hatred for foxes. He was afraid Zeinara had lain with a fox, some creature of magic that would thus impregnate her with something wild and dangerous. Perhaps what frightened Zeinara most of all was the fact that Pili would likely agree with Jule's precautions.

The church publicly considered the gods of the foxes to be demons (even whilst secretly worshipping them), and Zeinara knew Pili was of the same mindset. Since coming to Varimore, Pili had converted from the religion of the desert dogs to the religion of the nine kingdoms, and there was many a time when Zeinara would happen upon her praying in Wychowl's little chapel by candlelight. Pili fervently believed in the Creator and hated all aspects of the fox religion with unapologetic disgust. So by extension, she also hated Mogethis and Nkwe and their shameless defiance of dog faith.

Once Pili had rescued Zeinara, she would lecture her about premarital sex, the Creator, her duty as a princess and holy icon to stay pure, and the dangers of laying with a fox. She would warn Zeinara that any pregnancy should be terminated, not only because it would please the Creator, but also for the sake of the kingdom. If Zeinara were pregnant by Jule, the McIntyres would weave their way into Etienne's court, and the king would be forced to acknowledge the wedding between his daughter and the Son of Maldoene - either that, or he'd have to whisk away Zeinara's illegitimate child into hiding. And the last thing they wanted was someone like Tabitha le Frey having an excuse to frequent the court of Wychowl.

Zeinara knew Pili's fear of being cornered by Tabitha was very reasonably felt. If there was anyone in Canderly who could catch Pili in the act, it was Tabitha le Frey. It was widely known that Tabitha was the true ruler of Osterwill, not Jule McIntyre, who spent all his time getting high, drinking, and fondling his servants. Jule craved power but could care less about actually wielding it. Like most children of nobility who'd spent their lives hearing that they must conquer the world, Jule just wanted the ego trip that came with being important. Tabitha le Frey not only craved the ego trip but also the sheer _thrill_of commanding power over others. She got off on being in charge, which was the main reason she enjoyed spanking servants for the smallest offenses.

Zeinara heard the nobles gossiping about Tabitha having publicly spanked Ettoras, and while was she angered by the knowledge, she was not the least bit surprised. Tabitha had been ruling Osterwill for years, standing behind Jule's throne and pulling his indifferent puppet strings, and now with Zeinara here to whisk Jule away to Wychowl, Tabitha was no doubt livid. Because if Jule went to Wychowl and took the throne, ruler ship of Osterwill would be given to his brother, "Simple Simon" McIntyre, a male who despised Tabitha and would never sit aside and let her have control. If Simon were to take Osterwill, Tabitha would be sent packing to LakePenning. She had been dictating her own little corner of Heaven for years and now she was about to lose it all. And because of Zeinara.

So it was in Tabitha's best interest to end the marriage and be rid of Zeinara, while also keeping Jule alive. But her reputation for hotheaded vengeance was so incriminating in and of itself, that framing her for Jule's murder should have been laughably easy. And yet Pili had bungled the whole thing. She was supposed to make it seem as if Tabitha had attempted a hit on Zeinara's life, only to accidentally kill Jule. Now it just looked as if someone had slashed Jule's throat and murdered his servant outright. Zeinara was honestly flabbergasted that the precise assassin could be so sloppy.

Pili had always been precise, even before she was an assassin, baking cookies and cakes in the kitchens of Wychowl with perfectly drawn icing. In her earliest days at Wychowl, she had been a meek and shy young bitch working diligently in the castle kitchens. Zeinara's earliest memories of Pili involved her slipping down to the kitchens to steal pie, only to discover Pili guarding said pie. Pili would give her a cookie instead and send her on her way, but Zeinara always managed to sneak back and stick her fingers in the pie, only to get caught with red paws by the scolding teenager. After a while, Pili took pity on Zeinara and started baking small pies just for her.

It was through her frequent visits to the kitchens that Zeinara became fast friends with Pili and even convinced her to leave the gloom of the kitchens for the sunny gardens on occasion. Out in the sunlight, Pili would laugh and chase Zeinara through the tall flowers. They would run and play, and Pili would braid flowers into Zeinara's golden mane, tickle Axel, and tell the children stories as Nkwe sat on a bench, pretending not to listen as he read a book.

Present-day Zeinara wondered how Nkwe was. She asked after him as she and the others were creeping along the wall, and she wasn't surprised when Pili's lips tightened. Pili always became cold and distant whenever someone mentioned Nkwe.

They passed behind a cluster of bushes and paused as several foxhound guards marched past them with green capes flaring.

"Is now really the time, your majesty?" Pili replied irritably.

"All time is my time," Zeinara returned playfully. "I'm princess of the fucking world."

Pili wasn't looking at Zeinara when her black eyes narrowed in a glare.

Zeinara held back a sad laugh. Since Pili had officially become her father's assassin, it seemed she had lost her sense of humor. But killing in cold blood over and over probably had that effect.

"I'm worried about him," Zeinara whispered. "Uncle Nkwe is probably blaming himself. He had the dagger in his things when I stole it --"

"What!" Pili hissed. "Well, that settles it, doesn't it? Mogethis is a traitor and so is her sniveling brother. They're _both_working against your father --!"

"No!" Zeinara cried but fell silent as more guards passed.

They watched tensely as robust foxhounds clad in green jackets and silver breastplates stomped by, pushing up clouds of dirt.

"Where the bloody hell are all these guards off to?" Wilmer muttered.

Zeinara had to wonder the same thing. The guards were all heading to the manor's perimeter, shutting the gates, patrolling in pairs, as if they expected an attack. Horses were neighing and jiggling as they were saddled and mounted. Zeinara recognized the captain. His name was Captain Eugene Howlett and he was a tall, muscular foxhound with a brilliant red mane who'd been hitting on Zeinara since her first arrival at Canderly. He liked big breasts but said her "little teats" would do nicely in his paws. He was also in the midst of a long-term affair with Tabitha le Frey, though he made no attempt to hide his desire for Zeinara - one more reason for Tabitha to loath her.

The thin boy named Shakir muttered something in his language and sounded very frightened. He clasped his fingers, and Zeinara thought he was praying.

"More guards heading inside, to the main hall," Pili observed, her dark eyes following a trail of guards that were heading up the front steps in a line.

"I don't like this," Wilmer muttered darkly. "I don't like this at all."

"Nor should you," Pili returned. "Someone knows I'm here. They must've found Jule facedown in his wine. Let's head to the dungeon. Fast."

Pili started off again and the others followed. As they went, Zeinara tried to think of something she could say to change Pili's mind about Nkwe. She knew it was pointless, though. Pili had hated the fox religion for as long as Zeinara had known her, and her suspicion and disdain only seemed to deepen over the years. Knowing that Nkwe had the Skkye Glass in his possession seemed to further convince her that no foxes anywhere ever could be trusted. Pili was going to tell Etienne that Nkwe had stolen the dagger, and Etienne would believe her, and Zeinara would never see Nkwe again. After what he and Mogethis had done, how could they possibly return to Wychowl? Though Zeinara had the feeling Mogethis didn't _intend_on returning.

Pili led them to a door that stood in shadow, framed by the gray stone wall and half-hidden behind tall grass. The assassin pulled a bobby pin from her mane, and after glancing left and right, quickly jimmied the lock. The door creaked open, and as they hurried down the small flight of stairs, Zeinara had to wonder what Motsumi and Palesa were doing right at that moment. Why had they failed to rescue her and the others? And Kayya . . . where was Kayya? Something was very wrong. And perhaps it had been wrong for a long time.

Pili closed the door behind them, and they were plunged in darkness.

"Pft, it's _freezing_down here," Wilmer muttered.

Pili struck a match and her eyes reflected the flame like glass. She moved past them, brushing them with the scent of her mane. "Down the corridor, hurry. And keep your mouths shut."

"Pili . . ." Zeinara began.

"Your majesty --" Pili warned irritably.

"You didn't run into any foxes on your way here, did you?" Zeinara went on anyway. "A male, a bit older, would've looked about forty-ish --"

"And a female," Wilmer added hopefully. "Young, beautiful . . . possibly carrying a magical bow of light."

Pili didn't look at them. "So you had friends on the outside, helping you?"

"So you didn't meet them," Zeinara unhappily realized.

"No, your majesty. I'm . . . sorry," Pili returned, and for the first time, there was softness in her voice. She cleared her throat and led the way down the hall, her voice hard again. "We can not afford to look for your friends. My objective is to locate and secure you and your brother. No one else." She touched the lit match to a torch and lifted the torch from its bracket.

Wilmer scowled. "I'm not going anywhere without Palesa!" he said at once.

And I'm not going anywhere without Kayya, Zeinara thought. "We can't leave them behind," Zeinara agreed. "If they've been captured, we have to find them!"

"No," said Pili calmly, "we don't. Not if it means risking your life."

"Oooo!" Zeinara growled.

"Your tantrums have never impressed me, your majesty," Pili said tonelessly, not looking at the princess. Her tail was swinging as she walked, and Zeinara grabbed it. "Your majesty --!"

"No, you listen to me!" Zeinara practically shouted and held on tight, even when Pili turned sharply to face her. "We are going to find out what happened to the others. And we are not_going _anywhere until we do." She was considerably taller than Pili and stared down at the assassin with adamant blue eyes. She didn't know what made Pili's eyes relent, she was just glad when they did.

Pili snatched her tail free and turned away again, lifting the torch high. "Fine. Perhaps they are in the cells with your brother, and then it won't matter. They could just come with us."

Shakir muttered another prayer in his language. He sounded so small and frightened by their arguing, Zeinara felt guilty for raising her voice.

"And if they're not in the cells?" Zeinara demanded, following after Pili when the assassin started off again.

"I saw no signs of them when I scouted the grounds yesterday. If they are not in the cells, then they are dead, your majesty," Pili said quietly.

Zeinara swallowed hard. She knew that Pili was likely right. Why should Motsumi's crazy plan have gone well? And to think, all of this because Motsumi decided they had to kill Prince Florian. Even if she made it out alive, she would never see Kayya again. She could only hope that if she was dead, Kayya hadn't suffered. Maybe the guards were quick about it. Maybe Jule's guards simply shot her on sight.

"If Motsumi's not dead," Zeinara muttered, "I'll kill him myself."

Wilmer looked at her in shock. "Your majesty! Motsumi --!"

"Sent us here to kill Prince Florian based on some vision he had!" Zeinara yelled. Shakir started praying again, and she guilty swallowed her anger.

Pili whipped around, and all of them halted, standing together in the cold corridor with the light of her torch brightening their eyes.

"Prince Florian," Pili repeated, looking at Zeinara intently. "He's here? You are certain of it?"

". . . yes," Zeinara replied, her blue eyes searching Pili curiously.

Pili looked off thoughtfully a moment. "If we could bring the prince alive to Varimore, he would be a powerful asset against the Carringtons. He despises his father and might speak out against him."

"That's what I thought," Zeinara agreed and gave Pili a half-smile.

Wilmer shook his head. "No. The original plan was to kill the prince. Because if he lives, the Carringtons will succeed in taking Varimore. That's . . . that's what Motsumi saw . . ."

Zeinara watched Wilmer sympathetically. "You don't sound too certain of that. Why?"

Wilmer glanced at Zeinara guiltily and looked away again. "No . . . it's just . . ."

"Answer her," Pili said and took a step close to Wilmer. "What aren't you telling us? Tell us now. There is little time."

Wilmer looked at Pili, and Zeinara could see the affection in his eyes: he wanted her. And because he wanted her, he was willing to do as she asked. He dropped his eyes, swallowed, and muttered, "Motsumi was once . . . molested by Prince Florian. The prince also raped Palesa in front of him." His eyes glittered angrily.

Zeinara's mouth fell open, but Pili's hard face didn't change a twitch.

"Ever since that night," went on Wilmer heavily, "Motsumi has been psychically connected to the prince. He can see where he is, what he's doing. He has no control over it, it just happens on occasion. I think . . ." Wilmer took a miserable breath. "I think Motsumi just wants us to kill the prince because he wants the visions to stop. Nothing more."

"Son of a bitch!" Zeinara snarled and balled her paws into the fists. Beside her, Shakir started rapidly praying. "That bastard risked our lives for this!"

Pili narrowed her eyes. "How do I know what you're saying is true?" she demanded of Wilmer.

"No," Zeinara said at once, and Pili's eyes snapped on her. "Wilmer isn't lying. I heard Motsumi and Palesa arguing before we left. Palesa seemed to think he had other motives. He got angry and grabbed Palesa, so hard I thought he'd hit her." She looked at Wilmer. "Seems she was right."

Wilmer nodded unhappily.

Pili turned away. "Then we will not travel in this Motsumi's company. If he was foolish enough to risk your lives for his own schemes, we will leave him here to rot."

Wilmer frowned. "But . . ." He seemed on the verge of protesting, but something steeled in his eyes, and Zeinara knew he was reminding himself that Palesa was likely dead because of what Motsumi had done. He dropped his eyes to the stone floor.

"Come," Pili said softly, and Zeinara thought she sounded as if she pitied Wilmer.

They took off down the corridor again, and after walking for what felt like hours, Zeinara had to wonder just when the hell they were going to reach the cells. She said as much when Pili stopped to let the group rest. Pili's response was to pull a small vial from her boot and show it to the princess.

"We are lost, your majesty. I have used this passage for years to reach the cells here in Canderly," Pili said calmly, "and it seems someone has . . . altered the passage." Her face darkened. "Foul magic is at work here. I do not know where we are. The only certainty is that we are heading into a trap. If all seems lost . . . drink this." She pressed the vial into Zeinara's paw.

Zeinara looked at the vial and her eyes snapped back to Pili: it was poison.

"You can not let the servants of Maret capture you alive," Pili said calmly.

Wilmer made a impatient noise. "She's the child of Death! Poison is not going to kill her! Maret protects her life. And there's no point in Zeinara killing herself when Maret doesn't even want to harm her!"

Pili looked at Wilmer in amazement. "Don't be foolish. Maret isn't real. She's an idea. A foul lie the foxes worship as if she were truth."

Wilmer shook his head. "Because she is truth. Didn't the light in the sky teach you that!"

"S'pru exists because the Creator wills it," Pili said calmly and looked away. "Azrian is a tool of my god, not theirs."

Wilmer scowled. He was sitting with his back against the wall and his knees drawn up. His long white mane had come loose of its tail and tumbled wild in the light of Pili's torch. Zeinara thought it made him look quite handsome, especially when he was frustrated. Calm and steady Wilmer was so seldom frustrated.

"Your god is our god!" Wilmer burst impatiently.

Pili looked at Wilmer and her lips parted in surprise. A look of surprise also crossed Shakir's face, and for the first time, Zeinara realized that he understood their language perfectly.

"I . . . I mean their god," Wilmer stammered, blinking as he reflected on his own words.

Zeinara knew that even after living with Palesa and Motsumi for so many years, Wilmer still clung to the faith of his own kind. He had all but begged Zeinara's forgiveness when living with her at Canderly. He seemed to believe that she really was the holy child promised in ancient times to King Antony, and he begged her to forgive him for "leaving the church." The longer Wilmer lived with Palesa, the more he came to revere the fox gods. And he seemed ashamed by the fact.

Pili opened her mouth - probably to scold Wilmer for his beliefs - but Zeinara caught her eye, and the assassin slowly scowled.

"Just leave him alone, Pili," Zeinara muttered and dropped her eyes to her boots. "Just . . . leave him alone."

Pili turned her face away. "Underdog," she corrected. ". . . Pili is no more."

Pili insisted that the others take the opportunity to sleep. She believed they were nearing the end of the passage, and whatever they stumbled upon could only mean life or death.

Zeinara sat against the wall but didn't think she could sleep. She drifted off for a little but awoke again because Shakir kept crying and praying. After a while, she realized Wilmer was crying as well. He likely thought Palesa was dead, that they were about to die. She reached over to comfort him and froze when she realized the sobs were coming between panting and gasping. Zeinara's eyes narrowed as they adjusted to the darkness and she went still: Wilmer and Pili were making desperate love against the wall. Wilmer was carrying Pili. Her arms were around his neck and her legs were spread and dangling over his arms as his pink erection drove up and in, splitting the lips of her swollen sex wide on its width. His pants were around his ankles and her ruddy mane was in her eyes as he grunted and gasped to shove his way inside, jerking her against the wall with every desperate thrust. He was crying even as he made love to her, and in sympathy, her gasping mouth found his and silenced him in a kiss.

"Palesa . . ." Wilmer sighed, tears in his eyes.

"Hush," Pili whispered and stroked his mane. She kissed him and their lips slowly peeled apart. He looked at her helplessly. "You'll wake the others," she whispered. "Kiss me." Wilmer obeyed with trembling lips and started pounding Pili with wild abandon. Breasts flapping, she arched her back and twisted against the wall as the thickness of him sent juices oozing down her thighs. Before long, her soft rhythmic gasps were rising above Wilmer's grunts.

"Ah! Ah! Ah! Ah!"

Zeinara winced and closed her eyes, determined to drown out what she was hearing. She opened her eyes again when she felt a paw close over hers. Shakir was peering at her hopefully in the darkness. His other paw slipped between her thighs, and he fingered her gently through her pants. She gasped indignantly, slapped him across the face, and folded her arms. He rubbed his cheek sourly and returned to his prayers, this time speaking them in her language for her benefit.

"Ak'bir, god of the sun," Shakir whispered to his paws, "help thee princess Zeinara come to her senses and make sweet, sweet love to me in my final hours . . . Help thee princess Zeinara to spread her thighs, that I might find my way inside her hot pie . . . " He paused to smile at Zeinara.

Zeinara glared at him but she also couldn't resist laughing. . . . males. She pulled the vial from her pocket and peered at it in the darkness. Poison. She suddenly missed the days when Pili used to give her pie.