The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Lemma the Librarian

The Glamour-ous Life of a Slave, Part 3

After the Dinner Incident, every slave in the fortress knew who I was. I got a lot of sullen glares and whispers behind my back as I worked, and also a lot of shy smiles. I soon figured out the pattern: the girls who talked to Mira a lot, and who she generally gave the cushiest assignments, hated me. The girls Mira was constantly putting down, the ones she had cleaning the stables and the outhouse, smiled at me but seemed afraid to talk to me.

The only person who actually talked to me for the next two days was Mira. I didn’t see Master in all that time, and I was starting to suspect that Mira was arranging my work that way on purpose, always keeping me away from whatever part of the castle Master was in.

I spent my fourth morning after being enslaved cleaning the tapestries in the northwest corridor. Brea, who was definitely one of the smiling group, was there on mopping duty.

After nearly an hour of work—Mira was careful every day to order me not to use any magic, so I had barely half a tapestry cleared of cobwebs and dust—Brea suddenly spoke. “She hates you, you know.”

“I’ve noticed,” I said. “The feeling’s mutual.”

“Tell me about it. She hates all of us, I think. Even her favorites are only her favorites because they suck up. She doesn’t actually like them.”

“Really?” I said. Useful information if I planned to get her out of the way between Master and me.

“You know she used to be Lady Brinksmoor?”

“She said as much,” I said.

“She was Master’s very first slave. The one He first tried out the book on.”

“Book?” I asked, trying to sound casual.

“Oh, He learned how to do all of this from a book. He used to keep it on Him, until He memorized all the magic. I was His third slave, you know. He had it when He took me.” She added the last proudly.

I made encouraging noises for her to continue.

“Mira hates all of us, because it means she doesn’t get Master to herself. But she seems to be going all-out on you. You must have really impressed Master to get her that mad at you.”

I repressed the urge to whoop with joy. Of course I’d never really doubted it; Master of course was a discerning individual, and I am beautiful, talented, and brilliant. Any dolt would be impressed; someone as clever and wise as Master couldn’t possibly miss my qualities.

Brea and I continued to talk as we cleaned. She told me about Master, and all the castle gossip, and in return I told her about the wonders of Lemuria. It felt like a pretty fair trade.

“Have you heard about Mira and the captain of the guard?”

I shook my head. “What about them?”

“Mira,” said Brea conspiratorially, “is completely, head-over-heels in lust with our resident Amazon. They say Mira even once tried to get ahold of Master’s book, to turn the captain into her slave!”

“Wow,” I said, grinning. “I bet Master wasn’t too happy about that.”

“Oh, He was furious! He found her in His study, trying to find it. He put her in the dungeons for a month, and every night fucked one of us right in front of her! It was great.” She grinned savagely in memory, and I couldn’t help but chuckle at the malicious glee in her voice. “But that’s not the best part. The best part is what happened after he let her out.”

Study? Wasn’t that the room where Master had taken me? I hadn’t seen any books in there, just papers! Still, I’d have to check it out again as soon as I could. “What happened?”

Brea grinned. “Well, Iola found out about it, right? She came right down to the slave quarters in full uniform, whipped out her sword, and told Mira right in front of everyone that she would never touch her, and if Mira ever so much as looked at her funny, she’d tear her throat out with her bare hands!”

It was like I’d been struck by lightning. (And I should know, because I have been. Twice.) I couldn’t see. I couldn’t move. I knew Brea was talking, but none of it was registering. Master had lied to me. He had told me Iola left. I told Iason about it! His sister was right here, waiting for him, and Master had used me to send him off on a wild goose chase!

It couldn’t be true. Master wouldn’t do that to me. Master was perfect. Master made me his slave, the most wonderful thing in the world! Didn’t that mean he loved me? Why would he use me, lie to me?

“Lemma?” Brea was saying. “Are you okay?”

“Huh?” I shook my head and tried a weak smile. It felt fake. “I’m fine, I was just thinking of something.” I looked at the tapestries lining the hall. Master told me I had to obey Mira. Mira said to clean the tapestries without magic. But I had to finish my work and find Master! He had an incredibly good explanation for why he used me. I just needed to hear it, and everything would be okay again.

But Mira said not to use magic. Master said to obey Mira. Nothing was as important as obeying Master. But I had to know! There had to be a way to finish quickly.

I closed my eyes. I really hoped this worked. “Master could be in his study right now,” I said.

“Yeah, I guess so,” said Brea.

The geas kicked in. I could feel it pulling at me, and it took all my will, and all my need to obey the command to clean, to keep from sprinting straight there. I needed to go, I needed to clean, and there was simply no way to obey every compulsion on me. It hurt like an ice spell to the gut, but I had to do the best I could. I gathered a knot of wind in my hand, my hair and ridiculous skirt rippling in the sudden breeze. The light streaming in the stained-glass windows dimmed. My blood sang; it had been far, far too long.

Mistral Weft!“ I commanded, and the wind exploded through the room. As one, the tapestries lifted briefly from the walls, dust and cobwebs lifting from them in a gray cloud, and then settled back, the dirt dissolving into air. The magic ended, and my hair fell back again down my back.

“Wow,” said Brea. “They’re spotless! How did you do that.”

I grinned. “Little something I whipped up back at school. I can’t tell you how many times it came in handy during detentions. Anyway, I have something I have to go do. Later, Brea!” I started to run down the hallway, then stopped and turned back. “Oh, and thank you!”

“Uh, you’re welcome,” said Brea, looking a bit bemused.

I rushed down the halls to Master’s study, determined to confront him about lying to me. I burst through the door to find him lounging in his chair, while a tall woman with long, dark hair pointed at something on the desk. Both turned to face me, and a sword appeared in the woman’s hand faster than my eyes could follow.

“Lemma!” Master barked. “What is the meaning of this?”

“Uh, M-master,” I stammered, then fell to my knees. “I’m so sorry, Master! I don’t know what came over me. I simply had to come see You, to—”

“Ah,” He said. “Hush, my dear. Iola, you may stand down.”

Iola sheathed her sword, but continued to watch me warily. She was as tall as Iason, with his dark eyes, curly hair, and caramel skin. She was slenderer, and less obviously muscular, but she also possessed a casual grace he did not. She wore, as he did, dragonhide armor. Her own was cut to be much lighter, leaving her legs and arms bare. She was clearly built for speed and precision, next to his raw power.

I took all this in as I knelt before Master, my head down and my hair covering my face and my shame. What had I been thinking, just barging in on Master like that. Of course he had a good reason to hide Iola from me! I wanted to ask what it was, but Master had ordered silence.

“Mira has been quite hard on you, hasn’t she?” He asked.

I nodded. It was true, though I wasn’t sure why Master was asking about it now.

He shook His head. “That bitch. If I could, I’d replace her with you in a heartbeat. Either of you,” He said, nodding at Iola. “But I cannot. She is nobleborn, and until she bears me a child, I must continue trying with her. Once I have the heir I require...” He smiled. I’d have called it cruel on anyone else, but of course Master was never cruel. Mischievous, perhaps. “Once I have that, then you two may do with her as you will.”

“Thank you, Master,” said Iola.

“You feel that your talents are wasted as a house slave, don’t you?” Master asked me kindly.

I nodded. That was true.

“You came here because you feel Mira threatens your usefulness to me,” He continued.

Well, not exactly, I wanted to say. I came here because You lied to me, and I was sure You had a good reason, but I needed to know what it was. It was a failure of trust, Master, and I’m sorry! But I couldn’t. Master had ordered me silent. Also, I wasn’t completely sure it was true. How much of me stormed down to His study because I wanted to know why he lied, and how much because I thought the book might be there? Part of me wanted to just let loose with an explosion of magic, burn away everything that wasn’t the book and send it home.

“You feel you would serve better teaching me magic.”

I nodded emphatically. True true true! Magic was the greatest gift I could offer Master. I could teach Him everything I knew, and He would claim the world.

Master grasped my chin and tilted my face up to look at Him. He was smiling. “You’re right. You would serve me better. I made you serve Mira because I wanted to be sure of you. You have passed marvelously. If you could stand serving under Mira, simply because I ordered it, then I can trust you to serve me in all things, with total devotion, can I not?”

I nodded emphatically again. I passed Master’s test! At that moment, I would happily lick His boots for the rest of my life, as long as it meant I could serve Him.

“Very well. Slave Lemma, for your devotion, you are to be rewarded by becoming my personal assistant. You shall aid me in my studies of magic, teaching me all I need to know of the arts of Lemuria. You may speak now.”

I stared at Master. “Oh, thank You,” I said, pressing my cheek against His hand. “Thank You so much, Master!”

“Of course, as my assistant, you will also be responsible at times for carrying my rewards and punishments to my slaves.”

I nodded. It was more than I could possibly have hoped for! Oh, was I going to put that uppity little Mira bitch in her place. If she thought what she had done to me was rough, wait until she had to clean a tapestry cursed with Kavitom’s Never-Ending Dust!

“Speaking of which, I do believe Iola has earned a reward for her difficult task of patrolling the eastern ridge for bandits. What do you think, Iola?”

Iola grinned wolfishly and looked me up and down. “A little smaller than I usually like, but I hear tell that she made Mira howl like a cat in heat. She’ll do.”

Oh ye Ancients, she was looking at me like some kind of piece of meat! If a guy did that, I’d flirt a little and then kick his nads up high enough that I could reach down his throat and pull them out, but how was I supposed to respond to a girl doing it?

“Lemma,” said Master, “Mira’s reports say that you claim not to like pleasuring women, but are very good at it. Is this true?”

I blushed nearly purple. “Yes, Master,” I admitted.

“Well, I think Iola would rather appreciate it if you gave her her reward.”

Iola grinned, and I felt my blush creep down my neck. Even as it did, though, I remember Mira telling me how much Master enjoyed seeing his slaves pleasure one another, and a pleasant tingle spread lower down.

Iola for her part was stripping rapidly, revealing a smooth, toned tummy, firm, proud medium-sized breasts with dark brown nipples, a slim waist and surprisingly broad hips for her otherwise tall, slender build.

Master laughed. “Why, I do believe she likes you, Iola!” He said, lifting my skirt and trailing a finger along the quivering lip of my cunt. He raised His damp finger for us both to see, and I groaned.

“And I know Iola likes you, Lemma,” said Master. He thrust the finger of His other hand deep into her, and she squealed. He pulled it out, wet of course, and then turned around to offer us the opposite fingers. “Taste one another, my slaves.”

We both complied instantly. As I drew His finger into my mouth and swirled my tongue around its tip, I felt a decadent wrongness at the taste of another woman and Master mingled. Master clearly enjoyed the attention; His eyes flared darkly, and He smirked.

Pulling His hand from my mouth, He wrapped it around the back of my head, curling His fingers in my hair. For a moment, I dared to hope that Master would kiss me, but instead He pulled me forward. Still on my knees, I was forced to fall forward onto my hands. Dropping gracefully into a seated position on the floor, Iola wrapped her hands in my hair as well, and pulled my face toward her pussy.

Master stood and stepped back, and I heard the rustle of His clothes as He shed them. I wanted to turn to look, but Iola was much too strong for me. Inexorably, she pulled my mouth to her dripping snatch. There was a thick patch of dark hair above it, and a detached part of me made a mental note: if Master was going to have me do this often, I needed to teach these barbarian girls how a Lemurian lady kept herself trimmed.

“Pleasure her, my slave,” Master growled, His voice thick with lust. “Do to her everything you would have done to yourself.”

For a moment I considered resisting. I was more turned on then I ever would have imagined I could be with a women. My mouth was dry, and my lips ached for the flavor of her I had tasted a moment ago. Between that and the incident in the dining hall, I was really starting to doubt whether I actually preferred boys as much as I thought I did.

Iola’s pussy lips glistened with moisture, and her strong fingers were pulling me inexorably toward her, and Master’s command resonated up and down my spine like dancing fingers. The compulsion to do as I was told was overpowering, so I surrendered. The moment my lips touched her, I groaned in pleasure from the dark explosion at the base of my spine. The incredible euphoria of obedience swept me, and the tiny rational part of me that hung back and watched always observed that Master had truly mastered the art of binding women to His will. My sex and my obedience were so tightly allied now that I could not separate them. Orders were like the caresses of a lover, and obedience was orgasm.

I was still on my knees, and my face was buried between Iola’s thighs. Her legs were thrown up over my shoulders, and the net effect was that my ass hung high in the air, waggling invitingly whenever Iola spasmed in pleasure, as she was doing quite often.

“Oh... fuck...” Iola gasped. “Lemma!” Her hands were still buried firmly in my hair, not so much guiding me as hanging on for dear life. What can I say? I didn’t ask to be as gifted as I am. Iola continued panting and murmuring in some breathy language, presumably the Sea People tongue. I didn’t really need to understand the language to tell what she was saying: some things translate more easily than others, and “holy shit you are an amazing pussy-licker” is among the easiest.

Pain flared at the back of my skull. Something was wrong. Really, really wrong. Wronger than a barbarian lecture on thaumaturgy.

I was getting distracted, that was the problem! Needed to focus on pussy-licking, pleasing Master. Shut up the snarky little Lemma voice in my head and the howling shriek of GET THE BOOK both. I felt Master lift my skirt, His hands on my ass, and I moaned.

“Please...” I whimpered, my voice completely muffled by Iola’s hot, wet cunt. I needed Master’s touch, the simple joy of obedience to sweep away the confusion, the headache, the thousand voices tugging me in a million directions.

There was a hot tongue on my ass, and hands pulling my knees apart, and everything was making sense again as Iola trembled in a mini-orgasm. Then Master was thrusting deep into my pussy, deeper than ever before, and my back arched to take Him still deeper. All thought was swept away in the dark tide of burning-hot obedience. I couldn’t keep my mouth on Iola anymore, but my hot breath sweeping over her, the occasional brush of my lips against her clit, seemed to be enough. She howled with release, her legs locking tight against my shoulders, and the successful completion of Master’s task and the taste of her were more than enough to send me over the edge.

As I clenched around Master, screaming myself hoarse in pleasure, He grunted and filled me with heat. I was totally plunged into darkness, without will, without thought, annihilated completely by black joy.

When I came to, I was curled on the floor in a fetal position, my face stained with tears and Iola’s juices. “Thank you, Master,” I whispered. “I am Yours forever.”

“I know,” He said nonchalantly as Iola licked Him clean. “Return to the guest quarters you stayed in your first night. Tomorrow, you will begin to teach me magic.”

* * *

Back in my room, I flopped in a chair and massaged my temples. My headache was back, and killing me. Everything was wrong, everything confused. Ever since I found out Master had lied to me, and learned where the book was, I had felt myself—fragmenting, that was the only word for it. I couldn’t even be sure anymore which was the real Lemma. Was I the one with the hungry cunt, who wanted to fill herself up with her Master, over and over again, his cock filling my body and his commands my mind? Or was I the dutiful employee of the Imperial Library of Lemuria, here to recover precious, stolen books so that I could return home to glory and a great career?

I needed out of this trap. And for that, much as I hated to admit it, I needed help. Forcing my fogged, exhausted brain through the headache, I set about attempting the spell. I was going to try a difficult variant. Few wizards would care to try this gamble, fewer still while exhausted, in pain, and confused, but hey, I am few wizards.

The spell prepared, I opened my mouth and pulled a curly dark hair out from between my tooth. “Ew,” I said, but it was hard not to remember that incredible darkness crashing over me.

I concentrated. Using a hair to contact the person it came from was a simple application of the First Law of Magic: “Once together, always together.” The hair had once been part of that person, and therefore, as far as magic was concerned, was that person. What I was doing was a little harder. Iason and Iola were obviously twins, just from looking at them, which meant that once they had been together, inside their mother. If they’d been identical twins, I could have spoken to both at once with hair from just one, but fortunately one was male and the other female, which meant that I ought to be able to use Iola’s hair to contact Iason without Iola hearing. I hoped.

The hair straightened itself out suddenly, and glittered red and gold, reflecting firelight that wasn’t there. “Iason?” I whispered.

“Mmrgl,” said the hair.

“Iason, wake up!” I snapped. “I need your help.”

“Lemma?” he said sleepily. “Where are you?”

“Brinksmoor’s castle,” I said. “I’m using magic to talk to you. Listen, I haven’t got a lot of time. It’s taking all my concentration to keep Iola from overhearing.”

“Iola is there?” he demanded.

“There’s no time!” I repeated. “I’m sorry. I really believed she was gone, but it turns out she’s been enslaved by Ma—by Lord Brinksmoor.” I hesitated, but making up a lie would simply take too long. “And so have I. It’s all gone wrong, though! His spell and the geas are interfering, and they’re tearing me apart. I’m mostly free when he’s not around, but the instant I see him I start fawning all over him just like those serving girls! I need to get the book and get out of here.” Part of me wanted to get the book, send it back to Lemuria, and then sink into total enslavement to Master forevermore. As long as I never got any clues to the locations of other books, there’d be no interference, just a lifetime of orgasmic obedience and submissive pleasure. But Iason didn’t need to know about that. “How far are you from the castle?”

“Close,” he said. “A couple of hours. I thought I picked up hints of Iola’s trail doubling back from the ridge to the castle.”

“You did!” I said. “She just came back tonight. Listen, I need you to attack the castle. Keep Mast—Lord Brinksmoor busy, while I get the book from his study.”

“Got it,” said Iason. “I’ll see you soon.”

“Yeah,” I said. “Three hours, that’s when I’m going for the study. Good luck.”

“You too.”

I broke the link, and began to prepare. I really, really ought to wear my traveling clothes with the anti-glamour charms, so that I could try to resist Master’s spells. I should go and put those on right now, instead of this dress that made me submissive and horny, more likely to give in to Master. I really, really should.

I pulled the clothes out and laid them out on the bed. Then I put them back. Then I laid them out. Then I splashed my face with cold water, and came back, and stared at them for a while. Then I jilled myself for fifteen minutes or so, trying not to think about Master, but I couldn’t quite cum. I gave up and stared at the clothes some more. After that, I gave up, put them away, and played with myself while thinking about sucking Master’s cock. I came in about three minutes, and then I went to the bathroom to clean myself off. Then I came back and laid the traveling clothes back out again, and stared at them some more.

I needed to change to escape. Otherwise, I was just going to send the book home and then let Master claim me. I had to change if I wanted to go free!

Only problem was, I wanted to fail.

I’d dawdled long enough. It was time to move, if I wanted to take advantage of Iason’s distraction. I set off for the study, still in my maid’s outfit. I was barely halfway there when I heard shouting. I ducked into a corner to make certain none of the guards streaming down the hall saw me. The last thing I needed was to meet Master now. Even if it was the first thing part of me wanted.

My head was started to throb again. Had to concentrate on the job at hand: get to the study, find the book. I rushed there as quickly as I could, and breathed a sigh of relief—no, I wasn’t disappointed, not at all, really—to find it dark and empty. I waved a hand, and a little globe of light appeared. There was a desk, a lamp, the couch. The desk had drawers, but a quick search of those revealed no book. Papers strewn everywhere, and a map of the local countryside on a table, but nowhere you could hide a book. Where was it?

I closed my eyes and concentrated. I hoped this worked. “I am Lemma Kyrie baSontara of the Imperial Library!” I announced in Old Lemurian. “Your librarian is come for you, book of magics!” I paused and listened. Yes! A muffled rattling sound from the bricks above the fireplace. A secret compartment!

Moving quickly to the mantle, I felt the bricks for a switch or something. I could definitely feel the book on the other side, practically boiling with magic now that I’d woken it up. Fat lot of good that did me, without the switch! Oh well, you know what they say. If at first you don’t succeed, blow something up.

Bits of brick and mortar flew past me and an enormous cloud of dust billowed up as I cast a simple spell of vibration into the bricks, shattering them completely with a word. The book leaped out of the opening into my hands, glowing and trembling.

“Hush,” I whispered, stroking its spine. “You’re safe now.” I understood finally why I needed to be made a Librarian, rather than an Enforcer, for this quest. The book recognized me instantly as someone with the right to hold it and settled down quietly in my grasp, its magic dimming away until it was almost possible to believe it was made of ordinary ink and paper.

I turned just in time to see the door fly open. “You see, Master?” Mira cried triumphantly. “It wasn’t just a dream! I really heard her and that warrior planning to steal your book!”

Oh shit. The message spell! I could contact Iason with Iola’s hair because they’d been together in their mother’s womb. But the hair had come from my mouth, which had been on different parts of Mira dozens of times over the past few days. I’d focused entirely on blocking Iola from hearing; I hadn’t thought of Mira at all!

Then Master walked into the room, and my heart stopped. He was purple with rage, all of it directed at me. I wanted to sink into the floor, disappear from His sight like the utter scum I was. “I’m sorry —” I started to say, tears blurring my vision.

“Silence, slave!” He spat. I trembled where I stood. He and Mira walked around the desk toward the fireplace, surrounding me. I clutched the book to my chest and moaned in desperation.

“Give me back my book, slave. NOW!” Master reached out a hand for it. Shaking, I looked back and forth rapidly between Him and Mira. My head was exploding so hard dark red spots were forming in my vision. I needed to send the book home, and I needed to obey Master and earn His forgiveness.

There was a loud crash from down the hall, and Iason burst into the room. His sword was drawn, its blade darkly stained. “YOU!” he roared at Master.

“No!” Mira and I screamed in unison, as he swung his black sword heavily down on Master’s skull. Something dark and swift rushed into the room, and there was a loud clang that echoed painfully through my poor abused head.

Iola stood between Iason and Master, her sword raised to parry his blow. Her sword, mere bronze, shattered at the blow, and shards embedded themselves in both siblings’ cheeks.

“If you harm a hair on my Master’s head,” Iola hissed, “I will kill you where you stand, brother or no!” She struck at him with the broken, jagged bit of blade that remained attached to her hilt.

Iason barely twisted away, and took a few steps back. “When I kill him, the spell will break and you will be free,” he said. “Both of you.”

“Never!” shouted Iola. She stabbed at him again, but it was a feint. She twisted aside, then stabbed up from under Iason’s guard. If she’d had a full-length sword, it would be buried in his neck; as it was, he barely managed to pull back. “I belong to Master,” Iola shouted. “I love him! I won’t let you take that away from me.”

I had no idea which of them was going to win. I wasn’t sure which one I wanted to win!

“Give me the book,” Master repeated.

I shook and looked around desperately for a way out. I was being torn in two. But then, just for a moment, the two forces pulling at me stood in perfect balance. I had a moment, just one, where they cancelled out entirely, a single moment to choose: Was I the beglamoured sex-slave of Lord Brinksmoor? Or the geas-bound servant of the Imperial Library of Lemuria? I felt magic stirring in me, an attack spell rising up, fueled by the geas and my own frustration and headache. But was I attacking Brinksmoor, or Iason?

“Forget the slut, Master,” Mira said, smirking at me. “She’s not worth your time.”

There was a crack like thunder, and a shriek of surprised pain, abruptly cut off. Mira stared at me. Her mouth worked, but not a sound came out—not surprising, considering the curse I’d just hit her with prevented her from talking unless she had something nice to say. “I’m Lemma,” I told her, while everyone stared. “And you’re a bitch, but I’m a much, much bigger one.” I gestured, and a gust of wind caught Iola, flinging her into the wall hard enough to momentarily stun her. I felt bad about it, since none of this had been her fault, but I had no time for subtlety.

Iason and Brinksmoor both stared at me for a minute. Then Brinksmoor made a break for the door. Iason was faster, though. Brinksmoor was dead before he took five steps.

* * *

I stepped out of the castle and into a bright, almost pleasant morning. The usual mist had dissipated faster than usual, and the wind was blowing south, so that you hardly noticed the stench of the moor. My traveling clothes, clean and fresh and not remotely French, whatever that means, felt wonderful on me. And under my arm, without triggering the slightest compulsion to send it anywhere, was boSuntel’s Gender-Specific Glamours and Their Uses. Life was pretty good. At least, as good as it gets in a backwater mishmash of hills, swamps, and no soap like Kyrno.

I stopped. Everyone, and I mean everyone, was standing in the courtyard, waiting for me. Iola and the entire guard. Brea and the house staff. Iason. Even Mira. As I stood there, trying to figure out what was going on, all of them except Mira burst into applause.

“What’s this about?” I asked.

“Saving us, stupid!” said Brea, and laughed. “We’re free because of you!”

“Well,” I said. “Iason helped.” It’s important to be humble in these sorts of situations. “A little bit.” Just not too humble.

“What happened at the end there?” asked Iason. “I still don’t get it.”

“The spells cancelled,” I explained. “They were pulling in exactly contradictory directions, which meant I could break one of them off me by doing what the other one wanted. So I did something completely different from what either wanted, and broke both!” I grinned at Mira, who glared back but said nothing, of course. I considered telling her that her enchantment would only last a couple of months, but decided against it. Maybe she’d learn something.

“So,” I asked, “what are you all going to do?”

The girls looked at each other. “There’s not really anywhere we can go,” said Brea. “None of us are virgins, so it’ll be almost impossible to find husbands. And without them—well, there’s really only one job an unmarried woman can do in these parts.”

“So we’re laying claim to this land,” said Iola. “Since Brinksmoor had no male heirs, the land passes to Mira, and she’s going to let us stay, isn’t she?” The last had an unmistakable tone of threat, and Mira flinched away from her. “Brinksmoor wasn’t the only predator in the world,” Iola said, “he just had the advantage of magic. There are others. We want to create a refuge, where anyone, man or woman, can be safe from people who’d abuse their power.”

“That’s a good dream,” I said, looking around the girls. “Given what you’ve survived already, I think you have a pretty good chance of making it.”

“I’m glad you think that,” said Brea. “Because we want you to lead us.”

I gaped. “Me?”

“Of course!” said Brea. “You broke free! You freed the rest of us! You have magic and knowledge we need. Who else could lead us?”

“Wow,” I said.

“Congratulations,” said Iason. He turned to his sister and held out his sword. “Here. You’ll need this in service of your new Lady.”

“Father’s sword?” said Iola.

Iason nodded. “He wanted you to have it. You’ve always been the better fighter than me.”

Iola took the scabbard in her hands, feeling its heft. Then she pushed it back into Iason’s grasp. “No,” she said. “I tried to kill you. My own brother! I don’t deserve that blade.”

“You were bewitched,” he countered. “I forgive you for it.”

“It is not your forgiveness that matters, Iason,” Iola said softly, “but my own. Spells or not, I dishonored myself and our family. Until I have atoned for that, I cannot take father’s sword.” She paused. “Besides, they need me here, to train these guards and protect this realm, and I am far likelier to fight bandits than demons or dragons. You, in your wandering, will have more need of it. Take the sword. Fight evil wherever you find it, and make him proud. One day, perhaps, I will come for it, unless by then you have proved yourself its worthier bearer.”

Iason’s eyes were shining as he took the sword and bowed deep. “Thank you, Iola,” he said. “If you ever need anything, call for me, and I will come as swiftly as I am able.”

“I know,” she said. “And thank you. For everything.” She turned back to me. “So? Lemma, Lady of Brinksmoor Castle. What is your first command?”

“No,” I said.

“No?” All the women stared at me.

“I’m sorry,” I said. “But I have to search for the books.”

“I thought you said the geas was broken!” Iason said.

“It is,” I answered. “But that doesn’t change things. Not really. I could stay here and lead, or go home if I wanted, but then those books would be out there. You saw what just one of them did here. And that wasn’t even the worst of them. I have to find the others, and make sure they stay out of the wrong hands.”

“But,” stammered Brea, “who will lead us if you go?”

There were several cries of agreement from the former house slaves.

“I’m not really the leader type,” I said. “You need somebody who can fight to protect you, somebody with honor and pride you can trust. Fortunately, you have that somebody right here.”

“Who?” asked Iola, and I laughed.

“You, stupid!” Everybody turned to stare at Iola. Then, one by one, the guard began to clap. Slowly, the house staff followed suit, and soon everyone was cheering. Even Mira gave a polite little two-fingered clap.

Iason sidled over to me while the girls crowded around Iola, asking her opinion about everything from what to tell the villagers about the change of leadership, to what color to make her banner. “I think we should slip out quietly,” he whispered.

“Yeah,” I said. “And what’s this about we?”

“Oh, I’m coming with you,” he said. “Dad would like the idea of using his sword to take on a series of evil wizards. And besides, where would you be without my ‘little bit’ of help?”

“All right,” I said. “Just don’t get in my way, beefcake boy, and we’ll get along just fine.” I grinned at him.

Looks like I’m going to be Lemma the Librarian just a little bit longer!