Victor of Tucson

Book 6: Chapter 17: A Full Life

When Victor and Valla dismounted from Guapo, she ran over to Uvu, who, uncharacteristically, was still lying in the same spot near the courtyard gates where Victor had last seen him. He patted Guapo’s shoulder and sent the spirit totem back to his realm, then stood there, pondering Valla and her giant cat. Could he do anything to help the creature?

Sarl had left fifty soldiers to hold the fort—a risky number, but he’d obviously not wanted to arrive short-handed to help Victor and the fifth cohort. The watch commander, a young Shadeni lieutenant, had greeted Victor and Valla at the gates and, after asking about the battle’s outcome, had returned to patrolling the ramparts. Now Victor stood alone, trying to decide if he should set up his travel home or speak to Valla. He’d been on such a high when they rode back toward the keep, rich with the endorphins of post-battle Energy, victory, and the hope of amorous activities—at last!—with Valla. Things weren’t so clear now.

His feet crunched on the gravel-strewn cobbles as he approached her and the big cat. He saw dark smears in her hair where it had come loose during combat. The bottom edges hanging beneath her helmet had soaked up some of the blood that had splashed her way. Her armor, however, glimmered in the moonlight, shiny and fresh-looking, the enchantments having mended the damage and cleaned away the gory residue of battle. She knelt beside Uvu, who lay on his side, a listless look in his saucer-sized eyes as he made odd cat grumbles. “He’s no better?”

“Something ails him. Something clouds my connection to him.” She looked up at him, and he saw her eyes brimming with unshed tears. Her voice was thick with emotion, and Victor could hear the strain in it; her earlier relief at his survival and the army’s victory had fled before a renewed concern for Uvu.

“There’s nothing stuck in his wounds? I mean, under the scars, a bit of the creature’s harpoons, maybe?”

“Nothing I can feel. I used an expensive healing salve; I’ve seen it pull broken arrows from a soldier’s ribs.”

“Huh. If it’s not physical . . .” Victor knelt beside her, Uvu’s forelegs between them. He held out a hand toward the big cat’s nose, and the beast lifted his head, snuffled at it for a moment, then dropped his chin to the ground and closed his eyes, apparently comfortable enough with Victor’s presence. “Let me see here.” Victor thought about when Thayla had been infected, overtaken, really, by Belikot’s spirit. He remembered how he’d been able to force that spirit out of her and back into the skull where he’d locked it away. Could Uvu have a similar affliction of his spirit?

He leaned forward and rested his hand, palm down, on Uvu’s side. As the cat inhaled and exhaled and Victor felt his ribs moving up and down, he closed his eyes and turned his mind inward toward his pathways and his Cores. He could see them both now, his Cores. The multi-colored constellation of his primary Core outshone his fiery breath Core, but it was there, smoldering comfortingly, a single orb north, in his weird mental sense of direction, of his spirit Core. His pathways ran between them and outward, like highways ready for the powerful traffic of his Energy. He traced the one that led out through his arm and hand to the opening, where it met with Uvu’s flesh.

As he’d done with Thayla, Victor sent a trickle of Energy through that pathway, some inspiration because, of all his Energies, he felt it was the most benign. He let it pour forth from his hand, tracing over Uvu’s flesh, seeking an opening into the cat’s pathways. Did animals have them? Victor didn’t know, but he assumed they must. Hadn’t Valla told him that Uvu was an “evolved” creature? Did they not use Energy like people? Before he could doubt himself further, his probing Energy found an opening. He should have guessed where it was—in Uvu’s mouth. Thinking about it, he didn’t doubt the cat had openings in his paws, too, but it didn’t matter; Victor had found what he needed.

He sent his Energy gently probing into that opening, into the wide, straight pathway that led from Uvu’s mouth toward his Core. He wondered at the ease with which he did so; Uvu didn’t resist at all. Could he? Victor would think so, would assume the cat’s will, in his own body, should have been difficult to overcome. Had he recognized a friendly touch? Was his will too taxed? As Victor’s inspiration-attuned Energy progressed, his mind’s eye became aware of everything it touched. He saw Uvu’s Energy pathway; he saw how wide and simple it was, not convoluted and twisting like his own. It was a highway straight to his Core, which Victor could see like a smoldering campfire in the distance, a dim light down a dark road. “What kind of Energy is that, hermano?”

He heard Valla say something, but her words didn’t register. Victor was too focused and too intrigued by what he was seeing. He let his Energy progress, probing toward that distant Core, exploring the pathway, illuminating it. Victor felt no traces of Uvu’s Energy. Shouldn’t there be some in there? Victor’s pathways were never totally empty. As his consciousness pressed on, he soon began to realize that Uvu’s Core wasn’t exactly smoldering, as he’d first thought. He’d seen the sensation of flickering or pulsing, but the closer he got, the more he realized that it was the result of something moving about the Core, something dark and gray, something translucent that let the light of Uvu’s Energy through, but not clearly.

“Ah, I see what that fucking thing did!” he hissed as he pushed his Energy further, nearly at the cat’s Core now.

“What is it?” Valla asked, her voice loud and clear, impossible for Victor to ignore.

Before he got too engrossed with what he knew he had to do, Victor answered her, “There’s something around Uvu’s Core. Give me a minute to fight with it.” That said, Victor released his hold on his own Core; he let the trickle of Energy he’d sent into the cat swell into a torrent, and he pushed it forth with all the strength and determination of his prodigious will. His body began to glow with a white-gold aura, and then Uvu’s did as well. He knew why the cat hadn’t resisted his initial intrusion; he couldn’t. His Core was bound up, his will utterly spent in an effort to keep that gray . . . shit from thoroughly corrupting him.

Victor drove his inspiration-attuned Energy like a spear into the weird, sickly membrane around Uvu’s Core, and it recoiled. It thrashed and lashed out, but it was like a puppy trying to maul a grizzly bear. Victor wrapped it up and bore down on it with his will, twisting his Energy like a boa constrictor around that gray blob, crushing it into oblivion. Uvu’s Core immediately brightened, though it was obviously worn down. It pulsed with pure golden Energy, and Victor could feel the cat’s spirit start to recover and probe at his Energy. He began to pull away, back into himself, still holding onto that compressed blob of gray corruption.

Victor wondered what he should do with it when he dragged it back into himself. Then he had a thought. He tugged it through his pathways and pressed it toward the new opening he’d made leading to his lungs. When it was through, Victor inhaled deeply and pulled that corruption right into his smoldering breath Core. He felt it flare as the magma-attuned Energy ignited it. He felt the urge to cough as soon as that bright flare faded. As he hacked, he lost his concentration and resumed his normal perspective of the world through his eyes. Some black smoke hung in the air, and more joined it as he continued to cough out the burnt corruption.

Uvu stood up suddenly, arched his long back in a tremendous stretch, and then began to lick Victor’s face. Victor laughed and pushed at the cat’s big head, still sputtering, still trying to take a breath that didn’t tickle his lungs. “Thanks for the kisses!”

“Victor! You healed him?” Valla practically tackled him as she threw her arms around his neck and squeezed him into a hug. She was standing, he was still kneeling, and Uvu was purring loudly as he tried to get in on the affection, rubbing his long body on them both as he pressed into them, walking in a circle, looping his tail around Victor’s and Valla’s necks. Victor was still sputtering, trying not to cough on Valla as her hug transitioned to gentle kisses on his cheek, then his forehead. “Thank you, thank you, thank you,” she kept saying between each kiss.

Victor wasn’t someone who’d complain about affection, not from a woman and not from a giant cat. He laughed, waving away the cloud of lingering smoke, and then he stood, hoisting Valla up with him, holding her pressed tight to his chest as she continued to shower him with kisses, tears streaming freely down her cheeks. Uvu chuffed and yawned, making big cat sounds as he continued to circle Victor, pressing his big body into him. Pretty much anyone else would have been knocked over by the cat’s enthusiastic affection, but Victor stood tall, hugging Valla close, and let the pony-sized monster cat show his gratitude.

He came to realize they’d drawn a small crowd; the garrison troops had turned their attention toward the inner courtyard, and many were staring, smiling, and laughing. They could recognize an occasion of joy when it was in front of them, and they were happy to join in. The mood in the keep was good enough already, what with Victor’s news of the Ninth’s second victory of the day. The happy Legate and his Tribune Primus were just icing on the cake. After a long moment of celebration, Victor finally set Valla down and gave Uvu a big, friendly shove. “Okay, big guy. That’s enough. You’re welcome.”

“You’ve earned a true friend this night, Victor.” Valla leaned into him, grasping one of his hands with both of hers.

“I thought you were already my friend . . .”

She shoved him playfully. “Always joking around.” She turned to the center of the courtyard. “Where’s your house?”

“Ah, yeah.” Victor’s smile broadened, and he took his home off his belt, walked toward a particularly empty corner of the courtyard, and placed it on the flagstones. He activated it, and as it rumbled and jumped, expanding to its full size, he stood with Valla and watched Uvu as he worked on cleaning himself in earnest. “He seems happy.”

“Of course! You healed him! I can feel him just as before. What was wrong with him, Victor?”

“Something was wrapped around his Core. Something . . . vile.” It was a word Victor wasn’t sure he’d ever used, but it fit. “I burned it in my breath Core,” he chuckled.

“The smoke?”

“Yeah.”

“I wanted to ask, how did you find your breath? I mean, how did you do what you did in the battle? Such flames; I’ve never seen anything like it, not even from a tier-four Pyromancer . . .”

“It wasn’t me. I mean, the breathing of the fire, that was me, but the fire was from my ancestor.” Victor searched his memory, the name coming to him easily. “Chantico.”

“Chantico? Was it a woman?”

“Yeah.”

“She saved you, I think. You were . . .” Valla grew quiet and then gestured to the house, now fully enlarged, sitting quietly in the courtyard. “Let’s speak within.” She tugged his hand, and following behind her, Victor cast Shape Self, reducing his size to something more like he’d been when they first met. Valla led him straight to the stairs toward his bedroom, and Victor felt his stomach start to flutter, a nervousness like nothing he’d experienced in a very long time. As they walked through the long hallway that led off to branching, empty rooms, Valla continued, her voice small. “You were going to die, weren’t you?”

“I don’t know. I didn’t want to. I was going to fight until I couldn’t anymore. I think I’d come to accept that I might die.”

“I know I already said this on the battlefield, but, well, maybe I didn’t say this—Victor, I don’t want you to die. I don’t want you to be okay with dying!” She still wasn’t looking at him. She walked before him, still holding his hand, but he could tell she was having a hard time finding the words to match what she was feeling.

He tried to help her out. “I thought about you a lot while I was fighting. I thought about you with regret, angry at myself for not acting on my feelings more. I know I’ve told you how I feel about you, but, well, I let you think you weren’t the most important woman to me. I let you believe I was stuck on Tes.”

“Weren’t you?” Valla had stopped before his door, and now her back was to it, and she looked up into his eyes.

“I think I was confused. Like you were.”

“I wasn’t . . .”

“Yes, you were,” he said, leaning toward her, one hand on the door next to her head, his eyes inches from hers. “You were confused about yourself. You were comparing yourself to Tes, and for some reason, you were coming up short in that comparison. Valla, you’re every bit as incredible as she is. She’s had more time to gain levels, to learn things, but you, shit, I bet you’re twice the woman she was at your age.”

“Truly?” She looked up at him, her big, turquoise-green eyes staring into his soul as she delicately bit at her lower lip, and Victor felt his heart jump in his chest.

“Yeah. Truly.” He leaned closer and stopped, his lips a hair’s breadth from hers, and waited. Valla inhaled through her nose and then pressed her lips to his, and this time, their kiss was far deeper, more passionate. Victor felt like he couldn’t get enough. He savored her warm, soft skin, her hot breath, and the tender, gentle way her hands grasped the backs of his arms, holding him close as they stood, locked together.

Victor wasn’t exactly experienced in love. His one “serious” girlfriend back on Earth had been a girl he texted and hung out with now and then—nothing like the women he’d met on Fanwath. His feelings back then were different; they were kid feelings. Even his affection for Chandri felt small and shallow compared to what he felt there with Valla. When he thought about shallow feelings, he couldn’t help thinking of Teil, but he couldn’t find any regret; she’d needed him, and he hadn’t suffered for their night together. Still, what he felt with Valla was different; he knew her so well, her quirks, her dreams, her fears. She’d been with him through thick and thin. She’d watched him nearly die half a dozen times, and she’d always been there to support him. He swore, in that moment, while they kissed, he could feel her spirit.

Victor felt like his heart would pound out of his chest, like he was high on something better than anything he’d ever tried, even better than the euphoria following a System-granted Energy rush. He could certainly feel Valla’s Energy, hot and vibrant, electric under her skin, tickling his flesh. He let his hand slide down the door to the handle. He pulled it open, then he pushed her through, still trying to kiss her while they stumbled into his room. Valla pushed him off, then ran a hand over the front of her hauberk, slipping out of the armor and letting it fall to the hardwood floor with a clatter. She was panting, breathless, as she started pulling off the rest of her clothes. Victor did the same, proving he’d had more practice with rapid clothing changes by getting naked several seconds before she did.

They never made it into the bathtub, at least not at first. They didn’t even make it to the bed; they fell to the floor on a plush gold and crimson rug that had come with Victor’s travel home. Valla wrapped her legs around him, and they shared every part of themselves. Though they were both breathless and eager, hungry for each other, Victor tried to take things slow, and again, he reflected on how different the experience was for him. It meant so much more to him than the other sex he’d had that he couldn’t find a valid comparison. Nothing he’d ever done came close to the mixture of physical and emotional release he went through that night.

For her part, Valla seemed just as happy, just as engrossed by their amorous activities. After they’d exhausted themselves there on the floor, they’d bathed, but then Valla started things up again, and they wound up in his bed together. Sometime later, they lay together, and though the room was dark, and Victor was on his back, staring at the ceiling, his mind wandering through a replay of their activities, he knew Valla was staring at him. He cleared his throat and asked, “Are you regretting anything?”

“Me?” Her hand snaked under the thin linen sheet, and she rested a cool, soft palm against his chest, over his heart. “I regret nothing.”

“Do . . .” Victor struggled, trying to coax out his thoughts into words. “Don’t you regret waiting this long?”

“What? No. That’s like asking if I wish I’d eaten a meal before it was cooked.”

Victor rolled to his side, trying to find her eyes in the near-total dark. Almost without thinking, he summoned a tiny Globe of Insight and let it float toward the ceiling, casting their bed in its dim, pale light. He smiled as she shifted to look him in the eyes better. “Are you comparing me to a meal?”

“A big, hearty, stomach-filling meal, aye.” She grinned and leaned toward him, then her eyes widened, and she touched his chest. “What’s this?”

“Hmm?” Victor looked down at his pectoral and saw what she pointed at. It looked almost like one of the many dozens of pale scars on his body, but it was darker and had a definite pattern, like a crescent moon with a straight line descending from the bottom point. “Huh. A weird scar?”

“It looks almost like an axe . . .”

“Ah! Golgothaz!”

“Excuse you!”

“No! It’s a name, a being who spoke to me when I finished the battle. I guess when my axe skill advanced to epic . . .”

“Epic?” Valla’s eyes widened.

“Yeah! Some beings were interested in my fight, and one of them, well, I think he chased the others away, and then he said he was giving me his mark.” Victor rubbed a finger over the scar. “This must be it.”

Valla flopped onto her back and got quiet, and Victor wondered if something was bothering her. “Something I said?”

“Something I let myself forget for a little while.”

“What?”

She sighed and turned back to him. “You’re born to fight. Every time you push yourself to the breaking point, you come out stronger. Like a piece of rare metal being worked over and over, heated and cooled. You’re not going to stop, are you?” She stretched out her pale blue fingers to trace his jawline as she spoke, and Victor reached out to her, resting a hand on her hip.

“Here come the regrets?”

“No.” She smiled. “This is you, and it’s nothing new. I have to accept that you’re going to be pushing the edge. You’re not a small man.” She chuckled. “I don’t mean physically. You have large goals, and you’re not meant for small things. I like that about you, Victor, despite the risks. Besides, if you or I die in this life seeking and tasting glory, then we’ll meet again in the next one, yes? Isn’t it better to live a life like that—a full one of our own choosing, of our design, out from under the thumbs of those who would control us?” Victor knew who sat heavy in her mind with those words—Rellia, the Empire, the responsibilities thrust on her since she’d been strong enough to hold a sword.

“Damn right.” Victor leaned toward her and kissed her forehead. “This life or the next.”