This is the serialization of a story I posted to Patreon last month. Click here to see all the sections I’ve posted so far.

–

“Kneel,” Munnann snapped, and Quayne did. “You pulled the
spell that was controlling Lemma onto yourself too,” said Munann.
“And I’ve just taken ownership back from Iason.” He turned his head
to us. “You can have your inhibitions back, by the way, I don’t really
need them.”

Fuck. The stuff I’d done today! What was I–

Fuck!

Munnann stroked Quayne’s cheek. “This is the form I always give my
slave queen,” he said. “And the last one died a few months back. I
figured sooner or later someone would volunteer to be my new slave queen by
trying to rebel, and sure enough.”

“So you’re… king of this island, not a trickster spirit or a persona
or whatever?” I asked.

Munnann shrugged. “Both, really,” he said. “Sort of a
god-king, genius loci, Fisher King sort of deal. Whoever rules Munn rules its
magic.”

Phew. That was… clearly a lot of power. “Why involve us, then? Once
you knew about Quayne, why not just squish him with all your power? Or turn him
into your queen, or whatever.”

“Ah, that reminds me!” said Munnann. He clapped. “Quayne,
you’re a woman named Aine now.” He turned back to us. “My slave queen
always looks the same and has the same name, gets around the little problem
that I’m immortal and she’s not.” He raised a finger to his lips.
“Let’s just keep that between us. As for why, well, it’s the rules, you
know? I can only use my power to protect this land and its people from outside
threats, or if the target agrees to the spell, like you did.”

That made sense, more or less. But… “Wait a minute, what about that
block thing? I didn’t agree to that!”

“Oh, there’s an exception for pranks, bad jokes, and fourth-wall
breaking,” he said.

“Fourth what now?”

He waved his hand airily. “Never mind.” He picked up the book of
transference spells and tossed it to me. “Catch!”

I squeaked in surprise and barely managed to hold onto the book. “Thanks,”
I muttered darkly.

“No problem,” he said with a broad smile. “Now, get the hell
out of my country, foreign scum!”

He was still smiling, and I started to laugh.

He didn’t. “You’ve illegally left the port,” he said. “Hurry
back, you should be able to catch the last ship heading out for Yri. If you’re
still here after sundown, well… like I said, I’m allowed to use my power to
defend against foreign invaders. I’ve never had three slave queens at once,
might be fun.”

“We’re leaving!” I said hastily, backing away. No way did I
want to tangle with the level of power Munnann was casually tossing around.

“Hey!” said Iason. “What about my sword?”

Munnann rolled his eyes, then snapped his fingers. Iason’s sword appeared in
its customary position, strapped to his back.

I whistled. Teleporting iron? I couldn’t even begin to guess how much
power that would take, and I wasn’t about to stand around doing the math. I
grabbed Iason’s arm. “Come on!”

–

I stood at the ass or the poop deck or whatever you call the back of the
boat, watching Munn disappear into the distance.

And none too soon. Worst. Island. Ever.

Iason walked back from talking to the captain and stood next to me. “We
should reach Yri in three days,” he said. “Think there’s a book
there?”

“There’s at least one in that general direction,” I answered.
“So probably.”

Iason nodded and stood beside me, watching Munn slowly shrink.

“Hey…” I said, and then stopped.

“What?” he asked.

“Um… when you, uh… when you had control of me. And no inhibitions.
It didn’t… it didn’t even occur to you to, you know…?”

“To..?” he asked.

Dammit, was he that thick? Was he really going to make me say it? I could
feel my cheeks reddening, hopefully in the gloom of dusk he wouldn’t notice.
“You never even thought about making me… you know… fuck you?”

“Oh,” he said. He was quiet for a bit. “No.”

That made sense, I guess–with no inhibitions, if he’d thought about it, he
would have given the order.

We stood in silence for a while longer.

“Not my type,” he said finally.

“No, no, of course not!” I agreed hastily. “You’re
not–” But for some reason the words my type either stuck in my
throat. I mean, Iason was pretty hot, I’d thought that from the start, but he
was a bud. A pal! A… sidekick? Yeah, that’s what Munnann had called him. I
wasn’t entirely sure what it meant, but it sounded right.

“I mean, uh… you know.” He mimed enormous curves with his hands.
“Not my type. I prefer women who are, uh…” He paused. “Never
mind.”

“Already forgotten,” I said.

Inhibitions, am I right?

–

Want more? Patreon backers can read the next Lemma story, “A Fairy Bad Deal,” right now!

Lemma the Librarian: Tricks of the Trade | Midori Konton on Patreon