A Short Blonde with Big Boobs and Loose Morals
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Flexible Morals Ch. 05 free porn video
This was easily the finest room that Malik had ever been in and for this reason he was suspicious. Ordinarily, a man in his line of work wouldn’t expect to do business in such a well-furnished space. He could feel his boots sinking into the carpet beneath him. It held an unnatural softness, yet there was no place else to stand. The desk, behind which his would-be employer sat, held a similar flair to its design. The corners were carved in a way similar to the figureheads that one might see on a ship. Atop the desk’s surface, apart from the usual array of parchment and quills, were all manner of trinkets that served little purpose other than to look pretty and interesting. Such was the way of nobility. Even the walls looked rich, built from a dark, almost red, wood and treated so that they almost shone in the light. Just standing in the room felt as if it was somehow costing someone a fortune, but work was work so he would endure.
‘These are they?’ asked the man behind the desk, apparently the Patab of this town.
It was his butler who responded. His voice sounded as flamboyant as the room in which they were standing. ‘The first three to respond to your request, master.’
‘I wouldn’t call it much of a request,’ said the Skytouched who stood immediately to Malik’s right. ”Hardened folk of flexible morals needed in Fissure,’ not a lot to go on. What’s more—’
A shove from the second Skytouched cut the first off and he took over the speaking. ‘What my brother is trying to say is that we’ll need more of a story before anything is finalized. I’m sure you, as a man of obvious status, understand.’
The Patab gave a slow, steady nod, one hand to his chin. With his other hand he made a wave towards the butler who bowed, turned and left, closing the door behind him with a soft click. Then the Patab returned his attention to the trio before him. ‘Indeed, we’ll get to the details in a moment. First, let me make it clear that regardless of what you decide, the words that are said in this room are not to leave it. Simply for your silence, should you decide against my employment, I am willing to pay well.’
‘So, wait…’ The first Skytouched held up a hand. ‘You’d let us go now if we wanted and there’d be some coin in it just for showing up?’ He asked despite several shoves from his brother.
‘I would should you desire to. But do keep in mind that the prize for success here is far greater than what you would walk away with now. Not to mention, the chance for further, well-paying work down the track, should you prove yourselves up to the call. So, before I explain the job, would any among you like to take your leave?’ He swept his eyes over the trio.
Malik snuck a glance at his would-be accomplices but couldn’t read anything in their faces. He looked back at the Patab. ‘None of us is going anywhere.’
‘So I see. In that case, allow me to begin.
===
Already Phyre was a little concerned with this new plan. They’d been following the cat for nearly half an hour, at least. Trudging through thicker and thicker parts of the woods as they gradually moved away from Fissure. That worried her.
Ordinarily, darkness wasn’t much of a problem for Phyre. When it came to walking around the woods, while nightfall neared, at the behest of some mysterious feline, darkness became a little more intimidating. Lots of things came out after sundown that one should try one’s hardest to avoid. Wolves and bears sometimes and vicious, needle-haired pargs with their backs full of venomous quills. None of them would be particularly nice to run into. Yet here they were, traipsing through the woods at the prime time of day to encounter one or all of them.
‘I should mention, as an afterthought, that I also felt a lot braver after my meeting with the cat,’ Drop said suddenly.
Phyre frowned. ‘How?’
‘Well you see… uh. How…’ A long, thoughtful and throaty croak worked its way from Drops lips. ‘Ah, perhaps the cat bestowed some courage upon me for being able to stand his presence for so long. All I remember is that I initially felt terrified and after a little while things didn’t seem quite so scary. Especially now that I think back to it. I can scarcely remember what it was about him that had frightened me.’
‘Maybe that’s just because you got used to him,’ she argued. ‘You seemed pretty scared of those strider birds.’
‘That was a life and death situation.’
‘And when you were coming to Fissure for the first time.’
‘Life and death again.’
‘No it wasn’t!’
‘Pah, that’s easy for you to say, big as you are.’
‘Ugh, how much further can it be?’ Phyre groaned into a new subject.
‘Surely not much farther. We’re almost at the swamp, aren’t we?’
‘Swamp? But…’
Drop was right, Phyre realized. The ground had been growing increasingly soft and thick with water. But there weren’t any swamps in the woods, she was sure of it.
‘Has he told you his name yet, by the way?’
‘Mmm? No, why?’ Phyre’s voice found the cat again a short distance ahead. As he walked, his tail still stood crooked where the fur turned white.
‘Oh, just wondering is all.’
Phyre looked at him. ‘Why? Has he told you?’
‘When I met him before, yes. But I don’t know if I should go telling you. Maybe best to let him introduce himself properly.’
‘Okay…’ As a way of dragging herself forward, Phyre kept her voice on the cat. She ground to a halt this time as she found nothing but empty forest where he should have been.
A trickle of fear began to flow through Phyre. At once she swept her voice through the patch of forest that she had stopped in. The one for whom she searched did not appear.
‘Where did he go?’
A shuffling sensation tickled Phyre’s skin as the frog hauled himself to the lip of her pocket. Drop squinted into the gloom then pointed ahead with a slimy foot. ‘Just there.’
Phyre’s voice returned to the spot she had first searched. This time their furry companion presented himself. He padded towards them, eyes locked upon her, then sat only a few meters away and curled his tail around his legs.
Silence hung over the trio for a short while. Phyre kept expecting the cat to speak. After all, she already knew a frog who could do the same. But in the minute that passed, the cat did nothing more than blink once and shuffle his hindlegs a little closer.
‘Hello,’ Phyre tried when she could stand the tension no longer.
The cat nodded to her greeting. His head dipped slowly then rose again a single time. Yet, throughout the action, his eyes failed to leave her.
‘Has it told you its name?’ Drop whispered.
Phyre jumped upon hearing his voice and was about to shake her head. Then she realized that she did know its name. ‘The Wandering Cat. That’s his name, isn’t it.’
‘Yes.’
‘How do I know that?’
‘He told you.’
Phyre’s focus returned to the cat and found it still seated there, watching. ‘Are you going to help me, Wandering Cat?’ she asked it.
Nod. Then the cat twisted around and padded away into the darkness. She watched him leave, confused, and tried to chase him with her voice. For a while, she managed to keep him in view. Then, as he seemed to do so often, he slipped away.
‘Where’s he going?’ Phyre asked herself as much as the frog.
‘I’m not sure.’
‘Did I make him angry?’
‘No. Surely not. I don’t know if he can even get angry. At any rate, if he is angry, I’m sure he would have made that fact quite clear to you.’
‘Why is he even here? What’s he doing?’
Drop croaked loudly. ‘Well, who’s to say he is here. He’s gone now, anyway. It’s all in the name. He wanders, I suppose.’
‘Right.’
‘And look, here he comes again.’
As before, Drop was correct. Phyre could see the blurry outline of the cat as it began to emerge from wherever it had retreated.
It had something in its mouth this time. A tiny, glass vial filled with a red liquid. Her immediate guess was blood but she soon realized that the color was far too bright for it to be that. The cat stopped to sit where it had before, dropped the vial on the ground and, with a flick of its paw, rolled it towards Phyre. She made sure to keep her voice on the creature as she stooped down to retrieve its gift.
‘What is this?’ she asked. In the palm of her hand, the vial seemed even tinier. Delicate as crystal and about half the size of her thumb, with a cork stopper. Her voice moved between the cat and the vial and, when she looked back, the answer came. His gift. In her mind, she could see herself lifting the vial to her mouth and drinking down every drop of the red liquid. Then nothing. Dream Phyre licked her lips and the vision faded.
‘But what does it do?’ she tried, with the suspicion that the cat was going to be similarly unclear.
The cat offered no clues this time. He only sat there and did nothing. Then Phyre realized that, in his own way, he actually had told her.
‘It can’t do nothing…’ Phyre looked at Drop for guidance.
‘I don’t know,’ he replied with a shrug. ‘He never gave me anything.’
‘So should I drink it?’
‘I think he wants you to, so you should.’
Phyre turned the vial in her hand and watched the liquid as it rolled around within. It was almost disgustingly thick but, at the same time, smooth and supple. ‘But what if it’s bad for me. What’s it do? It can’t do nothing,’ she said again.
‘Maybe he… Oh, maybe he means the opposite. Maybe it does anything or everything. Something like that.’ Drop made a throaty chirp at his reasoning then looked to the cat for confirmation.
Nod.
‘See, there you go.’ The frog twisted around in Phyre’s pocket and smiled at her.
Phyre didn’t smile back. That explanation didn’t strike her as particularly satisfactory. For one thing, it still left a lot unanswered. Which was it, anything or everything? And what did that even mean? ‘So if I drink this,’ Phyre began as she held out the vial. ‘If I drink this and I want to fly, it will do that?’
The cat shook his head in three short movements. Left, right, back to center.
‘But what if I want to fly.’
Another head shake.
‘No? But…’ And then understanding dawned on Phyre. Perhaps the cat had helped her reach this enlightenment, she didn’t know. Phyre only realized that neither the cat, nor the vial, could be fooled. She could drink his gift and want to fly but she wouldn’t because her true desire did not lie there.
‘It does what I want it to do. What I really want it to do.’
Nod.
That still didn’t help very much, Phyre decided. For a start, what would the cat think she really wanted the gift to do?
‘I suppose it’s a way of bringing about your deepest, most secret desire,’ Drop chimed in. ‘That’s a bit like what he did for me, don’t you think? Sending me off to a seemingly insignificant patch of river for a few days so that I could find someone to claim my wish.’
‘A bit,’ Phyre agreed.
‘So, do you think you’ll drink it now?’
Again Phyre looked at the tiny vial in her hand. Its blood-red contents almost looked as though they swirled even when still. She wrapped her fingers around the cork stopper and tensed to pull it free but paused to address her furry benefactor.
‘I’ll be cross with you, cat, if this turns out to be bad.’
Nod.
The cork slid free without a sound. Phyre held up the vial as both animals stared at her. Again every bit of her mind began to question the wisdom of drinking a mysterious liquid given to her by a mysterious cat in a mysterious stretch of forest. Yet it occurred to her that, if the cat really meant to hurt her, it likely could have done so with far less trouble than hoping for her to drink poison.
Phyre lifted the vial to her nose for a smell. A scent far sweeter than she had expected graced the air. An enticing, fruity aroma that reminded her of the ends of spring when all the forest’s bounty is out in its fullest. That time wasn’t too long off. Phyre tipped the vial back and felt the first drops of the liquid hit her tongue. She nearly recoiled at the sweetness. The liquid sizzled silently but it didn’t burn and slid easily down her throat. Her stomach accepted the offering. No part of her body screamed at the arrival or warned her of poison. Once the final drop fell from its glass shell, Phyre licked her lips and looked at the frog.
‘How was it?’ he asked.
She frowned and gathered her thoughts. ‘Very sweet and a bit creamy. Like honey and milk mixed together but much smoother and with a different taste.’
‘Sounds alright to me,’ he ribitted.
‘But I don’t feel any different.’ Her voice searched for the Wandering Cat, but he was gone. The patch of woodland stood empty of life save Phyre and Drop. ‘Where’d he go?’ she asked.
‘I suppose he… wandered somewhere else.’
‘But what did that do?’ Phyre asked herself as much as her companion.
‘I haven’t a clue. You’re sure you don’t feel anything?’
‘Uhuh.’ With a sigh she recorked the vial and stowed it in a pocket in her trousers. ‘He’s an odd creature.’
‘Not as odd as he is scary, I should think.’
‘I guess so. Should we go back now?’
‘Mmm, yes. I’m getting rather peckish after all this walking.’
‘You haven’t been walking,’ Phyre hissed at him as she turned around to do the walking for the both of them.
‘No, but I’ve been bouncing around in this pocket which was exhausting enough. Not to mention all the fearful shivering that this trip has put me through,’ Drop finished with a weary croak.
‘He’s not that scary.’
‘That’s just because you’re an awful lot bigger than he is. For me, when I first met him, it was quite the other way around with him doing all the towering over things. Why, if you were my height when you met him, you’d be in a completely different state of mind.’
‘Maybe,’ Phyre said, then laughed when her response brought a scoff from the frog.
‘Well, if you think yourself so brave now, I should say it’s high time that we pay Mr. Gilbride another visit.’
‘Ah, we should,’ Phyre blurted out before she could stop herself.
‘Right— hang on, why’re you suddenly willing to…’ Drop croaked triumphantly. ‘Aha! That must be what his gift did. It’s made you braver.’
‘Wha— No!’ Phyre shot back. ‘My deepest desire wasn’t to be brave.’
‘Maybe it was so deep that you didn’t even realize.’
‘No,’ she said again. That couldn’t be it. It seemed like such a waste. Of course it couldn’t be, not when she desired so desperately to have her parents back.
‘No? Then why the change?’
‘Because… the two Skytouched are dead now. And the Solar is probably gone so there’s nobody dangerous left at his manor,’ Phyre reasoned. She left out the part with her newfound understanding that Mr. Gilbride was only a man. A Skytouched. Tonight had taught Phyre that there were far less quiescent beings lurking in the world. Wandering in the dark.
‘Tomorrow we’ll go find out if he really was involved or not.’
===
‘Fraid the story’s the same as last time, kid, the Patab doesn’t see just anyone off the street.’
‘But I’m not just anyone,’ Phyre pleaded with the guard on the left. It was the same pair as when last she had been here. Once again, Phyre found herself standing outside the gate to Mr. Gilbride’s estate and, once again, her entry was being denied. ‘We had that important message last time.’
‘That was then, this is now. Unless you’ve got something new, I suggest you hit the road.’ The Skytouched made a show of peering around. ‘No sign of your big friend so I’ll wager you’ve nothing to report. Now beat it.’
Phyre huffed. This had gone so much smoother in her head. The plans she had made in bed last nig
ht were so fresh that they felt to have happened only moments ago. Last night had crept by far slower than nights usually did. After dinner with the Lanises, a shepherd’s pie, Phyre had plotted out the way in which she would approach her goal tomorrow. The mysterious liquid that she had drunk still hadn’t manifested itself in any remarkable way so there were no clues to be had there. Her mouth felt a little dry but that was likely just the inordinate amount of salt that Hatra had put into the pie, nothing sinister.
With great reluctance, Phyre complied with the guard’s words, mostly spurned back by the cruel look that he was giving her. She wanted to shy away from it and hide beneath the hood that wasn’t there. The two Skytouched maintained their glares as she retreated downhill until she rounded a bend and broke their line of sight. Hidden at last, Phyre looked down at Drop. ‘What should we do now?’ she asked.
‘Seems to me that we may again have need of Hatra’s finesse.’
Phyre considered that suggestion. They had left Mrs. Lanis in her morning storm of baking that was followed with a trip to Market Street to sell what she had made. The house had been filled with the clatter and cursing of a woman hard at work. ‘No, she’s too busy.’
‘Then we appear to be at a bit of a blockade, quite literally. Do you suppose there’s another way in? Back at the academy, I remember there being the main entrance plus a whole mess of other ways in for where they deliver food and where the staff came and went. Perhaps we could seek out one of those?’
‘But those will be guarded too. Look, they’re all over the walls.’ Phyre pointed through the hill at several men who were staring out over Fissure from their vista. ‘Besides, we don’t want to sneak in or they might arrest us.’
‘No, that would be a bit detrimental to our objectives, wouldn’t it.’ Drop started making a series of thoughtful, chirping ribetts as he worked through ideas. ‘I say, does this fellow ever leave his home? He had a few carriages, didn’t he? Must leave the place at some point. Maybe we could catch him then?’
‘But where does he go? And when?’
‘I imagine our friends back up at the gate should know.’
‘Right.’ Phyre sent her voice in that direction and found them leaning against the wall that they were supposed to be guarding. She could hardly blame their laziness, it looked like a terribly boring job. Perhaps her return would add a bit of flavor, Phyre thought as she began walking up the hill again. As she rounded the bend and came into their view, a smile crossed her lips. The guard on the left spotted her and his shoulders sank. He nudged his partner and they came to attention.
‘You seem to have a bit of a problem with listening, missy,’ said the left.
‘Does Mr. Gilbride ever leave this place?’ Phyre asked, deciding to get straight to the point.
Left glared at her, then spoke through gritted teeth. ‘The Patab has his own schedule that will sometimes see him leaving his home.’
‘When?’
‘That is private information. We don’t go handing out the Patab’s schedule to anyone who comes round asking, so get lost and try to stay that way this time.’
‘Mr. Quito, is that any way to speak to a young lady?’
Phyre threw her voice to the top of the wall, from which the speaker’s voice had come, and saw a man standing there, peering down at the proceedings. He was dressed in a fine blue tunic with long sleeves and a gold trim around the neck and cuffs. His face was clean shaven and soft, suggesting that this was a man who didn’t often find himself dirty. The two guards had turned a bit pale upon hearing his voice and were now staring up at him.
‘My regrets, sir. We’re just trying to deal with this street urchin,’ said the left whose name seemed to be Quito.
‘I’m no street urchin,’ Phyre protested.
‘It appears that she disagrees with your judgement, Mr. Quito.’ The Patab ran his eyes over her as one would examine a piece of furniture in a store, sniffing out the correct value. ‘Tell me, what does she want?’
‘To meet with you, sir. I’ve been trying to explain that you haven’t the time but she—’
‘Nonsense, I’ve plenty of time this morning.’
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