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Authors: Kelex

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The Whorehouse Oracle (3 page)

BOOK: The Whorehouse Oracle
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Artim grunted. “You only hope to have
enough time to sate your need in Kazru’s whorehouse,
Smythe.”


There is no reason we
can’t enjoy our mission,” Smythe said gleefully.


Please tell me you’re
joking,” Tyron said as he glared at Smythe.

Smythe rolled his eyes. “I am, but
please tell me you’re not back to those stories about a supposed
oracle.”


The kings of old had
oracles. Everyone knows this,” Tyron claimed.


And the kings also had
high priests who sacrificed
degons
to the shifter gods during ceremonies and bedded
twenty virgins the night before they wed to ward off evil spirits.
It’s a myth; there are no oracles,” Artim said.


There were rumors King
Stugaati had a band of oracles he secreted away in the castle.
There’s also a rumor he slaughtered them all after the Xakarrians
invaded the citadel, angered they’d not told him of the attack,”
Tyron added.

Smythe spun and lifted his emotive
hands. “Rumors? You center this search on rumors?”

Tyron clenched his teeth and calmed
himself. If even his own blood brothers wouldn’t listen to him,
then who would? “Prince Agarri had a prophecy given to him. Three
males would come to him and save him, and my cousin’s triad did
just that. Who gave the prince the prophecy? Who knew the future
before it occurred?”


Why didn’t you simply ask
the prince this question?” Artim asked.

Tyron looked ahead into space. He
didn’t want to tell them his cousin didn’t agree with Tyron’s
desire to search for the oracle and had clearly told him not
to.

Smythe chuckled. “I know why. Because
Drayden doesn’t believe in the oracle and Tyron didn’t want to
tempt his cousin’s anger.”

Tyron gnashed his teeth. “Someone gave
our prince that prophecy—which has come true. I believe in the
oracles, and if we could find one, it could help us win this war.
Having knowledge before an event could give us the upper hand we
need.”


And what did Drayden
think of this idea of yours? Or did you bother asking him?” Artim
asked.

Tyron stood and stared at his friends
a moment before answering. “Drayden didn’t want me wasting our time
on the planet. But I have a feeling in my gut that tells me we must
do this, we must search for the oracle. I can’t tell you why, but I
do. We’ve known each other a long time. Have I ever turned us on
the wrong path?”

Both of the males cast a quick glance
to one another before looking at Tyron. Artim cleared his throat.
“I worry when you get these grand schemes that you’ll lead us all
to our end. But thus far, you’ve always found the way through.
Don’t prove me wrong this time.”

Tyron smiled, glad to know he had
Artim’s support. “We will be safe, Artim. We have your logical mind
to keep us on the right path.”

Smythe slapped a hand on
Tyron’s shoulder. “If you want to look for the Oracle, then so be
it. In all honesty, going straight to Kazru is still the best
chance you have for finding answers. Kazru was the king’s right
hand. If there were oracles in the palace, Kazru would know. If you
can break into Kazru’s mind,
as your
cousin requested
, and you happened to find
information about the oracles while you were there, then you
wouldn’t necessarily be ignoring your cousin’s instructions, would
you?”

Tyron smiled. “How right you
are.”


And if you then acted on
a good, solid lead and brought such an invaluable tool to your
cousin, there’s no way he could be angry at that, now could
he?”

Tyron laughed. “I sometimes feel as if
Artim is the angel hovering on one shoulder, and you, Smythe, are
the devil on the other, whispering words to encourage my
wickedness.”

Smythe grinned. “Then let us be
wicked, brother.”

Chapter Three

 

Khal’s eyes popped open and he sucked
in a deep breath. He felt wonky, like he was right-side up, even
though he was lying in his bed. The room tilted and spun, then
suddenly he was on the right plane again. After a week of heavy
visions beating his mind and body, he was exhausted and wasn’t
quite sure what side was up anymore.

Ever since Kazru shattered his
mirror.

Khal had never been tied to one
reflective surface before. When he was younger, he could look into
anything, a mirror, a silvered surface, a reflective lake—anything
that could shine back at him could become all the vessel he needed
to see from. Not true now. Once his most recent conduit was broken,
Khal could no longer control the visions. Things came at him so
quickly, the flashes were almost unrecognizable. Everything was a
blur, which only made him feel half sick all the time. His balance
was off, and his ears rang constantly.

Kazru had brought him different
mirrors over the past week in hopes of salvaging the visions, but
none had worked. Khal felt confused and adrift, like he’d lost part
of himself.

A knock at the door sounded and then
Kazru peeked inside. “I’ve got another one for you to
try.”

Khal sat up and watched as Kazru slid
another mirror in. “I think it’s hopeless at this point. If the
last dozen haven’t worked, why should this one?”


I can’t have you sitting
up here sick and lazing about much longer. This room costs money,
money you aren’t making me anymore.”

Khal clenched his teeth. They’d been
through this each time a new mirror appeared, and Khal was sick of
fighting. If Kazru hadn’t broken the damned mirror in the first
place, they wouldn’t be in this situation. Of course, Kazru wasn’t
hearing any of that.

Khal stood and walked over to the
mirror on wobbly legs. He gazed into the glass and willed an image
to come forth. The longer he stared, the more his head pounded, but
nothing came. Frustrated, Khal kicked the mirror, sending it
spiraling across the room to shatter like the first one
had.

Pain slashed in Khal’s brain and a
vision of the three males came forth. They’d been missing in the
week’s worth of blurred sights, but then, as indistinct as
everything was, perhaps they’d been there after all. A sense of
comfort wrapped around him when seeing them, though, and he calmed
slightly. Something about the triad’s faces warmed him from the
inside. If they were back, did it mean his control was
returning?


Why’d you do that? Like I
haven’t lost enough on you!” Kazru yelled.

The bedroom door opened again and one
of the servants walked in, his eyes wide. “Kazru, there are three
males here to see you. They look like the same lot that was here
for the prince.”

Goose bumps lifted over Khal’s arms
and the back of his neck. He’d seen no visitors coming their way.
Although, he hadn’t seen much of anything this past
week.


Are they the same males?”
Kazru asked.


No, this lot’s different.
They asked for you personal like,” the servant answered.

Kazru turned and glared at Khal.
“We’re not done. Clean this mess up while I’m gone.” He kicked the
edge of the frame as he stomped over to the door. “And get yourself
ready. You’ll have a customer tonight.”

Shivers raced up Khal’s spine as he
wondered who the three were and ignored Kazru’s claim. Could they
be the males he’d just envisioned? He stood, ready to disobey Kazru
and seek out the visitors. He had to know if these were the males
he’d dreamed of for the past couple of months. If they were, today
fate reached out to him.

As soon as he reached for the knob,
pain lanced through his head as another onslaught of visions came
roaring into his skull. Immobilized, Khal curled up into a ball in
the midst of the broken glass, begging for the pain to
end.

 

****

 

Tyron stood with his triad brothers at
his back, looking over the sights of the whorehouse. Extravagant
and richly furnished, the space was made to tempt the wealthiest
aliens who visited the planet to part with their money, that and
the highest priced whores anywhere on Xhythria. The entry was
swarming with prospective customers, interested in spending an hour
or two with a being who could become anyone, anything.

Trying to keep the loathing from his
face, Tyron perused the room, watching for any dangers or issues. A
tall, slim male walked down the stairs and walked closer. He
stopped a few inches from the three of them, his tremulous gaze
taking them in. Tyron could sense the male’s unease. After dealing
with Tyron’s cousin just a week before, Tyron could understand
Kazru’s hesitancy. Hopefully it wouldn’t cause a
problem.


I am Kazru. How can I be
of service?”

Tyron looked the shifter over.
Blue-skinned and trim, Kazru looked much like any other of their
race. Kazru was supposedly a supremely skilled mentalist and Tyron
knew he had a battle ahead if he wanted a peek inside the male’s
head. He’d have to catch the whoremonger unaware, if that was
possible.

Tyron pushed a little, testing the
boundaries immediately. Thick walls surrounded Kazru’s mind. “I was
sent by Drayden to ask some questions about the disappearance of
our king.”

Kazru made a hissing sound and looked
about the packed lobby of the whorehouse, as if to see if anyone
overheard. “Come with me. We don’t need anyone listening
closer.”

Tyron looked over his shoulder at
Smythe and Artim. He nodded at them. After fighting and living
together for many years, they could easily communicate without
words. The three followed the whoremonger, Smythe stopping outside
to guard the door. Artim followed Tyron in and stood at the back as
Tyron took the seat Kazru offered.

The room was quiet, and a thick rug
covering the stone floor had also muffled their footsteps. Kazru
settled back in his own chair directly across from Tyron. As Tyron
looked the space over for dangers, he found none apparent besides
the male across from him. There was little light in the room except
that which escaped the flames of the fire and danced along the
walls. That fire raged in the grate to the left of Tyron, warming
his skin, the heat settling into him and making his body want to
relax and soak the warmth in. Kazru had probably anticipated that.
This room was where Kazru made deals and pulled strings, lulling
his opponents into a false sense of comfort.

Luckily for Tyron, he was stronger and
smarter than that. He would be pulling strings, not the
whoremonger.

Kazru watched Tyron closely, sizing
him up before opening his mouth to speak. “Might I ask how Prince
Agarri fares?”


He is quite well and
already settling into his new home with great zeal. It has helped
raise morale for our males to see the prince there, healthy and
ready to lead them,” Tyron stated.


Lead them?” Kazru
laughed. “Our soft little prince is no leader.”

Tyron tried to hide the tick in his
jaw. Kazru had saved the prince during the Xakarrian attack and had
then sheltered Agarri for many years after. But that didn’t mean
Tyron would sit there and hear disparaging remarks made of his
future king. “He grows stronger each day. Freedom to be the male he
was meant to be has been a boon to him, versus being sheltered away
in a whorehouse where he did not belong.”

Kazru’s smile faded away,
and the light in his eye grew dim. “I won’t sit here and listen to
you ridicule me. I did what I thought best. He survived, did he
not? And he might not have survived if it hadn’t been for him being
sheltered away in
this
whorehouse.”

Tyron pushed at Kazru’s mental walls.
His anger had weakened the hold. Tyron could use that as a weapon
if he needed to, but opted on a different tactic first. “I will
give you that, Kazru. You kept the prince safe, and for that, we
owe you a great honor.”


Yes. Yes, you do.” Kazru
relaxed slightly and leaned back in his chair. “But I somehow doubt
you will be the males to bestow that, since you’re Drayden’s errand
boys. Why didn’t he ask me about the king when he was here
last?”


He had other … things …
on his mind when he was here,” Tyron said carefully.


Oh yes. Defiling the
prince in the upper bedroom was first and foremost on his mind.
After I did everything in my power to guard the prince’s virginity,
that was the very first thing your cousin felt the need to take.”
Kazru pointed a single finger up. “You do know they took him right
up there. In a whorehouse, no less.” Kazru paused and rubbed his
hands together and spread them out to gather heat from the
fire.

Tyron didn’t speak. Didn’t react. He
knew Kazru baited him, had sensed his anger at Prince Agarri’s
ridicule. He wouldn’t give Kazru what he wanted—chaos.

But that didn’t stop Kazru from
pushing further. “Drayden and his males seemed to turn their noses
up at what I do, but they rutted like wild beasts as soon as they
got Agarri alone on the top floor. And they didn’t even pay me for
the room’s use.”

Tyron noticed Artim’s hand move slowly
from the corner of his eye. Artim reached under his cloak to touch
the hilt of his sword without changing the expression on his face.
He, like Tyron, wanted to run the whoremonger through, but they had
a mission to accomplish. First.

BOOK: The Whorehouse Oracle
5.71Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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