They burst into the chamber, still decorated with half-furniture, not to mention the half-bodies of Wriv and Flini, all embedded sideways in the floor.

  Nobody in the party, besides perhaps Merijest herself, had a Class with access to the kind of healing the demoness needed. Instead, they would need to rely on the esoteric spellbooks in the chamber.

  The Foxtapus placed Merijest’s injured body on the stone floor. Zynchra nearly leapt across the room, vaulting over a cabinet and rapidly flipping through a book. Durn followed close behind, casting yet another minor healing spell to limited effect.

  Witmie came after, but as she turned back to check that Thesa and the non-sapient [Familiars] were keeping up, she saw the [Witch] leaning heavily on Yabba’s wooden roof. Witmie quickly pulled up beside Thesa and helped her into the room.

  “What’s happening?” Witmie asked.

  “Merijest’s power keeps me alive, or undead or whatever,” Thesa explained. Her face was sunken but hot to the touch. “Don’t worry about me. Either she lives or both of us die.”

  “I’m not a healer, so I can at least get you comfortable while Zynchra and Durn do the real work. Let me at least get you sitting,” Witmie replied. Her arms were still but her face stuttered.

  “Put me next to her,” Thesa said, her voice a cough.

  With a nod from Durn, Thesa was placed on the ground beside her demoness.

  “Thesa, we may need to move you in a moment,” Durn clarified.

  Zynchra placed an open book on the floor. Tracing a decorated circle around Merijest’s body, they turned to Durn and said, “we need blood to draw the circle.” Then they turned to Thesa. “You know Dead Tongue?”

  Thesa shrugged. “Barely.”

  Zynchra nodded. Their speech was becoming raspier with repeated use. It would have helped to have someone else do the incantation.

  Thesa continued, “use as much of my blood as you need.” Thesa took the Menthic Axe from her side and pressed the blade to her forehead. Merijest was the only one who could save her anyways.

  “Only one we know will work,” Zynchra said. They gestured to the open page spread all about a spell called [Expel Affliction]. “Needs new host.” The spell would displace injuries and ailments from one target onto another living, or undead, being.

  Thesa volunteered although her consciousness was beginning to fade. “Whatever she needs,” she said. With one last movement, she put her hand on Merijest's and then fell unresponsive.

  Although they understood it was the only option, both Witmie and Durn felt hesitant about the idea of using Thesa like this. Zynchra, however, remained focused.

  “Need more sacrifice,” Zynchra said. “Asking a lot from spirits requires reciprocality.”

  “What kinds of things can we sacrifice?” Witmie asked.

  “Bodies of assailants,” Zynchra said.

  “How many?” Durn asked.

  The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there.

  “More is better.” Throat dry and overtaxed, Zynchra was overcome by a coughing fit, but shooed the others to get moving.

  ***

  Thesa felt as if she'd been swallowed. Her consciousness drifted to viewing her body in the third person, but unlike the first time this happened at the bottom of Blinny [Dungeon] when she met Merijest, this time Thesa was not alone.

  “What the hell do you think you're doing?” Merijest asked. Thesa became aware of the demoness's presence in the room. They were, after all, both on the verge of death, each a wisp of breath and consciousness.

  “What?” Thesa asked in reply. This mode of communication felt similar to the [Message] spell.

  “It’s true that when I’m back up I can save you from the poison, but I can’t give you back your leg,” Merijest explained. Thesa could ‘see’ Merijest the same way she could ‘hear’ her. The demoness’s feathers were puffed out and her tail flicked.

  Their spirits drifted back and forth, not vertically nor horizontally, but still somehow further and closer to the chamber where Zynchra pulled knives through corpses.

  “Not only is limb regrowth a long and painful process,” Merijest continued, “but it's highly specialized and prone to dangerous side-effects. Plus, it’s expensive with the cost of hiring a trained healer and the amount of sacrificial resources…”

  Thesa wondered if she could also ‘feel’ Merijest in this ethereal way, so she reached toward the demoness. In an instant, Thesa projected herself forward, losing control. She grabbed hold of Merijest’s shoulders and suddenly they were spinning head-over-heels through ethereal space.

  ‘Feel’ might be the wrong word for it. As Thesa and Merijest held onto one another, the sensation was like something just beyond the skin and flesh. It was the tickle of goosebumps, the static of numbness. And as they held to one another, they were like flames which burn different colors but nonetheless are joined together. Thesa’s hands overlapped Merijest’s shoulders. Merijest’s hands mingled with Thesa’s hips.

  They were no longer separate beings, rather they never had been. At least not since Thesa’s [Half-Life Revival]. Instead they were a single gradient of cold fire, a slush of snow reflecting brightly under the dark sky of a sleeping Astrogon. Not one-ness but contiguousness.

  Something about all of it made some things click for Thesa. She was disoriented but this temporary freedom from the anxious tensions of her physical body gave her clarity.

  “This is something I want to do for you,” Thesa shared, resolutely. Her desire mingled in the gradient. “And it's not just that if you die, I die. Maybe it's weird or wrong but I want to give part of myself to you like this. I–I want the line between us to blur just a little.”

  Merijest's eyes were wide, but she was smiling. “You never cease to amaze me.”

  Their mouths blurred together in an ethereal kiss.

  ***

  When Thesa awoke, the memory of her intangible exchange with Merijest was hazy. I hope I didn't embarrass myself…

  What was concrete was the demoness herself leaning over Thesa, as she opened her eyes, with a concerned, bloody, and almost toothless smile.

  “Your teeth,” was all Thesa could think to say.

  “They’ll come back,” Merijest said. “Remember I’m like a shark.” She made a playful chomp with her few remaining teeth.

  Her armor and the poison had been removed from Thesa’s body before she woke up. It was only when she sat up that she noticed her left leg coming to an end just below the knee. Even looking at it she wasn’t sure if the absence felt real. The scar wasn’t pretty, either.

  Thesa took in her surroundings. Against the wall of the chamber, Witmie and Durn were slumped in exhaustion with the Foxtapus curled up beside them.

  Yabba sat right beside Thesa, looking worse for wear. Its legs were molting and its wooden body was warped and strained.

  “Oh no, baby, what happened?” Thesa asked.

  “Yabba is connected to you,” Merijest said. “It should recover as you do.”

  Zynchra was lying on their back, directly between the two floor-bound portions of their body. Two pairs of arms laid across their body. There was something almost vampiric about it. The Bronze Motif was perched nearby on a book, sleeping.

  “I might need to tend to that leg of yours more as we continue,” Merijest explained. “When I woke up, you were already losing blood, so I had to act fast.” Then she laid her head on Thesa’s chest and her wings slumped. “I’m glad you’re ok.”

  “I should say the same to you,” Thesa said. After a pause, she asked, “What do we do now?”

  “I need to set some protective hexes,” Merijest replied. “Then we all need to rest up.”

  “I can start on the tent soon,” Thesa said.

  “Kitten, you don’t need to do a thing,” Merijest replied with a chuckle. “You need rest more than any of us.”

  Thesa was about to argue, but the truth of exhaustion overtook her before she could muster a reply.

  It always comes back to being a sickfic about being taken care of by a sexy demon lady, doesn't it?

  Also, happy new year, everybody!

  ***

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