Sweetening the Deal

By Nicole L. Soper Gorden 

Nicole is an author with a not-so-secret identity as a professor of biology at a small liberal arts college. In addition to writing and teaching, she loves studying plant-insect interactions, growing heirloom vegetables in her garden, and baking award-winning cookies. She lives in the Appalachian Mountains of North Carolina with an elderly puggle, a drooly black cat, a rescued box turtle, a bearded husband, and a dinosaur-obsessed toddler. Find out more or follow Nicole at www.NicoleLSoperGorden.com.

 

#

 

Taz leaned against the railing of the Women’s Bridge, looking out at the murky waters of the River Teeth below. It was late in the day, the sunlight waning to orange-gold. Below, the tips of gentle waves were sharpened by the harsh reflected light. The banks of the river were dense with masses of fuzzy purple flowers that looked like foam washed up on the muddy shores. Taz propped his elbows on the railing, ignoring the sour smell of river mud and the slosh of water climbing stone.

A breeze ruffled the hair on the back of his neck. A sound halfway between sigh and chuckle echoed behind him, blending seamlessly with the burble of the river.

Taz swallowed the sudden flutter of nerves, then let out a deep breath. “So I have a problem,” he said, striving for an easy tone.

He turned to face the being now perched on the railing on the other side of the bridge. She was gorgeous. Made entirely of transparent water, sure, but still all curves and softness and gentle, round features. He could see the city beyond right through her watery form. Her full lips quirked up on one side, both sensuous and inscrutable, as she looked back over one shoulder at the river below.

“I would say you have more than one problem,” she said, a hint of something between humor and hunger in her tone. “There are at least six of us here today.”

Taz swallowed, resisting the urge to look at the turbid river below and instead raising an eyebrow at the water succubus as if completely unconcerned. All that separated them was the width of the Women’s Bridge—so named because it was only safe for women to walk it. Water succubi would eat any man foolish enough to get so close.

Except Taz. He had never been sure where he stood in regards to elementals, and hadn’t ever felt the urge to test it until the fiasco with the water incubi two days ago. Just as succubi ate men, incubi ate women. He had hoped being transgender would be enough to keep him safe—right up until that water incubus had tried to eat him whole. Apparently, just like with gender-specific magic plants, the hunger of elementals had nothing to do with a person’s real gender. They must rely on some other inborn characteristic to determine their prey. 

Taz was fairly sure that meant he was safe now from the water succubus before him. Ninety percent, at least. He propped an easy hand on the hilt of his sword, swaggering a step closer to the woman on the railing. He recognized her implied threat, could hear the swarm of succubi in the river below, but he wouldn’t let her see any unease. 

“The more, the merrier,” he said, managing to keep his tone light.

The water succubus’s half-smile cracked open just wide enough to let Taz see multiple rows of shark-sharp teeth emerge, and Taz revised his estimate of safety down to seventy-five percent. Surely no less than sixty.

Sudden sweat tickled Taz’s lip under the false mustache. He ignored it and fell back on his usual skill set when confronted with stressful situations: swagger and sweet talk.

“I know the reputation of succubi, but I still hadn’t expected you to be quite so beautiful,” he flattered, doffing an imaginary hat. 

“You think that smooth tongue will help you?” the water succubus asked, head tilting slightly to one side.

“It’s gotten me out of worse.” Taz flashed a grin. 

She leaned forward, sharp eyes glittering. “Smooth tongues taste just as good as abrasive ones.”

Taz couldn’t keep himself from swallowing again at the razor edge of her tone. This was not going quite as he had planned. 

“I think you’ll find my taste isn’t quite to your liking,” he said. He sauntered over to lean against the railing next to the water succubus. It was hard to ignore the splashes and gurgles from below, but he managed. “I’m Taz,” he said, holding out a hand.

The water succubus coiled as if she might spring on him, mouth growing just a little wider and fuller of teeth, expression slightly feral. But she paused in the instant before Taz’s nerve failed him, nose lifted. She took his hand and brought it closer, smelling it carefully, then running a water-cool tongue along his palm.

“Pine,” she said. “And ginger. Sweat and metal and leather. But not . . . hm, you are an interesting puzzle, aren’t you?”

Taz felt his shoulders loosen by half and relaxed back into a grin. “Puzzles are a bit of a specialty of mine,” he said. “And also, part of my aforementioned problem.”

The water succubus sat back on the railing again, considering him. She ran eyes over his brown hair, the fake facial hair, the city guard’s uniform, the Motherhood seal ring, the sword. “Just how much of you is costume, Taz?”

“Only the best bits,” Taz said, flashing his teeth once again. “I’ll admit, it’s pleasant to hear my name on such full lips. But I still don’t know your name to return the favor.”

The water succubus gave another mysterious little smile. “Keep trying that smooth tongue of yours and you might yet get in trouble.” She glanced back over her shoulder again, holding a hand over the uneasy waters below, and they stilled back to the more natural sunset-colored ripples. “My name is Iara.” 

Taz’s instinct was to say it suited her, that it flowed as easy as water from the tongue and was as beautiful as the woman before him—she was lovely, after all. But her previous comment made him a little more cautious of his words, no matter how well-meaning they were. So instead, he gave a nod of thanks and a wink, and pulled a tightly rolled parchment from his pocket.

“Well, Iara,” he said, tapping the paper in the palm of his hand. “How much do the water succubi like living in the River Teeth?”

Iara frowned, eyes narrowing at the sight of the crest of the Motherhood of Fertility on the parchment. “And what is that?”

“Just a piece of the puzzle,” Taz said, spinning the tightly rolled paper between his fingers and over his knuckles. He dared a look at the water below the bridge, half expecting to see a swarm of water succubi baring their teeth at him. Instead, all he saw was a river cloudy with silt and the debris of city life. All of the city’s storm drains emptied into the River Teeth, after all, bringing the associated refuse with it after every storm. “I would think the River Teeth is an unpleasant water to call home.”

Iara studied him again, boots to crown, the playful little grin fully gone now. “Humans have never understood the worth of water—have always treated it poorly. But we need water to live, and humans to survive.”

“There are other waters in the area,” Taz said, keeping his tone breezy. He tossed the rolled parchment in the air and caught it again. “What about the oxbow in the River Bone across town?”

Iara cocked an eyebrow at him. “That’s water incubus territory.”

“Yes, but the water there is lovely, isn’t it?” he asked, letting the cheekiness sneak back into his grin. 

The River Bone was much cleaner than the River Teeth. It had to be—it was the source for most of the city’s drinking water. Taz had gone to see for himself, admiring the clear water and the sturdy pump station sending water into city households before almost losing a leg to a feisty water incubus. The River Bone’s oxbow, in particular, was a wide looping section of the river in the shape of a broad, slow-moving U. Those sparkling waters were still close enough to town to provide good hunting for water elementals and still far enough from the pump station to be relatively peaceful. And the River Bone didn’t have a pesky dam choking the water supply. Now, Taz found himself looking upstream at the giant wall of the dam across the River Teeth, only a trickle of water coming over the spillway.

“There’s only three or four water incubi living there now,” Taz continued, turning back to Iara and fiddling with the ribbon on the rolled parchment. He tried to make it seem like what he was saying didn’t matter—just idle conversation. 

Iara licked her clear lips with a watery tongue, sharp teeth showing around the edges. Good – he had aroused her hunger. “What, exactly, is this problem you’re so concerned about?” she asked. Her suspicion was natural, but also exactly the opening Taz was looking for.

“How kind of you to ask!” He flourished the roll of parchment, waggling it enough to make the Motherhood crest obvious. “I have accepted a contract to oust the water incubi from the River Bone. The Motherhood thinks they’re too close to the Gardenplex, and with that magic tree of theirs . . .well, having male elementals that close makes them nervous. One touch by a man and their tree dies.” 

Iara gave a small frown, eyes narrowing on his ring. “You work for the Motherhood?”

“Fallow fields, no! Can’t stand those self-righteous horticulturati.” 

Like anyone else without a prince’s salary, Taz had nothing but antipathy for the Motherhood of Fertility. Part religion, part corporation, and part iron-fisted enforcement agency, the Motherhood controlled magical plant horticulture, harvest, and trade throughout the continent. Just tripping over a puddle full of cinnamon azolla plants was enough for the Motherhood to fine you a month’s wages. If you accidentally started a magical fire with the plant in the process, you might as well change your permanent mailing address to the Motherhood jails.

“But they’ve got deep enough pockets,” Taz added, tapping the rolled parchment again. “And that’s what matters. This is a straightforward contract—payment for service rendered.”

Iara’s frown deepened. “You plan to use us to fulfill your contract? Your own succubi foot soldiers in a war against the incubi?”

Taz held up his hands. “It’s not like that—nothing so crass. I was thinking of it more as a mutually beneficial deal.”

She gave a soft snort, mouth pressed in a thin line. “Your smooth tongue is losing its charm, Taz. Territory claimed by an elemental is almost impossible to take by force, and even incubi aren’t stupid enough to leave such a prime spot unguarded. Asking us to do all the work and take all the risk hardly sounds mutually beneficial.”

“Not to worry! I wouldn’t leave all the burden on your pretty neck. There’s more.” Taz’s eyes twinkled, and he pulled a second paper from an inner pocket—this one rough around the edges and folded into a lopsided square. Taz could tell Iara recognized the inked pointed oval with a line through it for what it was—the mark of the Fallowhands. The water succubus gave Taz yet another weighing look, and Taz preened knowing he had offered her another surprise. 

“You’re a rebel, then?” Iara asked.

A logical assumption. The Fallowhands objected to the authoritarian Motherhood Edicts and the ridiculous prices they charged for even the most mundane magical plant. People were dying from perfectly curable maladies simply because their family couldn’t afford to buy the enchanted botanicals from the Motherhood. So, the Fallowhands were constantly nipping at the Motherhood’s heels—and stealing magical plants whenever they could. Personally, Taz enjoyed watching the Fallowhands pester the Motherhood, but wasn’t sure they would ever come out on top. Besides, money spent the same no matter who it came from. He may be a rogue, but he was no rebel.

Taz chuckled. “Oh no, not me. I leave politics at home when I’m working. Bad for business.”

“Helping the Fallowhands is work, then?”

“Another contract,” Taz agreed, waving the paper with a smile.

“Are you starting a collection?”

Taz laughed. “You could say that. But this contract provides a very convenient way to remove the water incubi from the river, at least long enough for an enterprising group of water elementals to sneak in the back. Maybe a certain pod of water succubi who are sick of dirty city water?”

“How?” Iara demanded.

“It’s all quite brilliant, if I do say so myself,” Taz said, tapping the square of paper against the stone railing. “The Motherhood is sending a caravan of Matrons and guards and gardeners from the capital. All female, of course – no men allowed around the Gardenplex’s prized tree. The Fallowhands are willing to pay handsomely to have the caravan delayed.”

“I see,” Iara said, tilting her head to the other side. “A detour to the north, then?”

Taz pointed the paper at Iara with a grin. “Precisely! A few well-placed road closures should bring the caravan easily within hunting territory of the incubi. Brains and beauty both—you’re quite the package, aren’t you?”

Usually that kind of comment could draw a smile from pretty girls, but Iara just gave Taz a flat look. “Your plan has a lot of moving parts. That means a lot of potential fail points.”

Taz waved the concern away. “I’m an expert at these kinds of puzzles. Nothing I can’t handle.”

Iara crossed her arms, leaning slightly forward. “Your plan depends on our cooperation.”

“Are you saying you wouldn’t jump at the chance for a better territory? One served up on a platter, with the current residents away? Once you get in the door, the oxbow is yours to keep. It seems too delicious to pass up.”

“And what about the seawall loosestrife?”

Taz blinked, wracking his memory for those words ever occurring together and coming up short. “The . . . what?”

Iara let out a cynical laugh, turning to point one water-clear finger at the banks of fuzzy purple flowers on either side of the river. “Seawall loosestrife. The magic plant no water elemental can cross. What do you think keeps us within the bounds of the River Teeth?”

To be honest, the question had never occurred to Taz. The water succubi never left the river, but he’d always assumed it was their choice, or maybe some kind of uneasy compromise with the city guards. It made much more sense that the city would have contracted with the Motherhood for a magical plant to contain the elementals—but it also made things more complicated for him. 

He glared at the flowers, brows furrowed. “There wasn’t any seawall loosestrife at the oxbow.”

“Of course not,” Iara said, sounding exasperated. “They get tidal waters up the River Bone, and seawall loosestrife can’t tolerate saltwater.”

“Ironic name, then,” Taz muttered. “Doesn’t the city get its drinking water from the River Bone, though?” Water elementals may be able to tolerate any kind of water, but humans definitely couldn’t drink saltwater. 

“The pump station is farther upriver, above the tide mark.” Iara sighed, gathering herself as if readying to stand. “Whatever skill you think you have with puzzles, Taz, it clearly doesn’t extend to considering the details. Even if we wanted the River Bone, we can’t get there from here.”

“Wait,” Taz said, desperate to keep her from leaving just yet. “If I can clear a patch of seawall loosestrife and lure out the water incubi, will the water succubi take and defend the River Bone?”

Iara mused, watery hair swaying in a nonexistent breeze. “It would be a lot of work to hold such prime territory. But we would consider it.” 

“Only consider?” Taz asked, giving his best winning grin.

Iara snorted softly. “Only consider.” She turned to lean over the railing as if to slip into the water below, pausing just long enough to look over her shoulder at Taz one final time. “Unless you can sweeten the deal,” she said, giving that little inscrutable smile of hers and a wink before melting into a rain of water that fell to the river below.

 

* * *

 

Sweeten the deal. 

Taz stared at the map of the city spread on the table before him, thinking about what kind of sweetness he had on offer. Something told him Iara wasn’t going to settle for a kiss. Pity—those full lips of hers looked like a joy. Luckily, he had another sweet idea up his sleeve for later.

He had already acquired the city guard signs. His city guard costume had its perks, after all; that was why he had stolen the uniform in the first place. He had been able to swagger in through the front door and take what he wanted from the storage shed without a single question asked. 

The combination of roadblocks and detour signs, all marked unmistakably with the city guard’s official seal, would lead the Motherhood caravan right into the waiting arms—and pointy-toothed jaws—of the water incubi. Being from the capital, the Motherhood caravan wouldn’t be familiar enough with local geography to know better. Besides, water elementals were constantly colonizing waters near cities and being ejected again by contractors like Taz, so their position was unpredictable to anyone not up on the local gossip. He’d even risked another trip to the River Bone, tempting fate (and the hunger of water incubi) to let slip that a caravan of women would be driving near the oxbow this afternoon. They’d be on high alert now, ready to feast on any woman foolish enough to enter their territory.

Served those tyrant Motherhood members right.

That only left the water succubi and the seawall loosestrife. Taz sighed, folding up the city map and tucking it away. On the table remained three papers. 

The tightly-rolled contract from the Motherhood to remove the water incubi from the River Bone. The rough folded contract from the Fallowhands to delay the Motherhood caravan, with a bonus for any magic plants he could salvage from the wagons. And a third contract, one he hadn’t shown to Iara—a neat envelope with the wax seal of the city guard pressing it closed. A contract to remove the water succubi from the River Teeth.

Three contracts that fit together like an expertly-made blacksmith’s puzzle. Each offered their own tidy sum, and each had teeth of their own—provisions for if he failed that ranged from fines to incarceration to promises of bodily harm. If he could make this work, if he could fulfill all three contracts, he would make enough to take a year—time he could spend planning a bigger con than the small side-hustles he’d been running lately. The Motherhood’s tree was tantalizingly close, after all, and had such a sweet prize on offer. But if he failed to complete even one of these contracts . . . 

Well, he would just have to make sure not to fail, wouldn’t he?

He swept the three contract papers into his inner jacket pocket, grabbed his bag of tricks, and headed for the Women’s Bridge.

Taz started with his sword. He had taken the time to properly earn his demon dancer blade, after all, and there was no point being a swordmaster if he didn’t use his skills once in a while. 

So he took to the seawall loosestrife with his blade, thinking to cut the fragile-looking plants down. Only the plants had other ideas. Not only did their stems prove impervious to cutting, the plants actually fought back, grabbing the blade and trying to pull his sword right from his hands. Taz, of course, dug in his heels and pulled back. There was no way he was losing his demon dancer blade to a bunch of weeds. 

The ensuing game of tug-of-war was why Taz was sunk to his knees in stinking mud, smeared with stagnant water and algae, and cursing all of plant kind, when Iara bubbled up from the waters of the river. She sat on the surface of the river as if on a blanket at the park, demurely tucking her legs beneath her. She watched Taz grunt and struggle for a full five minutes with nothing more than that inscrutable little smile of hers on her lips.

Taz paused for a moment, wiping sweat and mud from his brow, panting to catch his breath. He gave the water succubus a wry grin. “Enjoying the show?”

“Entirely more than I should,” she agreed. She cocked her head, noticing the purple glow of the brand on the blade. “A demon dancer brand? Not helping much right now, is it, swordmaster?”

“I’m much better in a fight against people,” Taz muttered, scowling at the deceptively delicate flowers, and Iara laughed—a tinkling sound that reminded him of raindrops on a pool of water.

“You are a mess, Taz.” 

Then she shot a stream of water into his face. 

He dropped his sword to stagger back a step, spluttering and pushing wet hair from his face. He was glad he had decided against the fake facial hair today; so much water would have washed the glue free for sure. Iara’s spray of water did wash away the mud and slime, though, and he had to admit he was much cleaner for it. And since he was already soaked from his struggles in the river, he could hardly complain about the wet.

“Thank you for your concern, fair lady,” he said, giving Iara a grin and a small bow. In his experience, it never hurt to be polite. Even better, when he reached to grab his sword again, the plants had loosened their grip and he was able to free it with no trouble. He inspected the blade, happy to see no new damage.

“Seawall loosestrife grips stronger the harder you pull,” Iara said with a wink. 

Taz lifted his eyebrows, studying the water succubus. That smile of hers was as inscrutable as ever.

“No matter,” Taz finally said, sheathing his sword and giving a grin. “I have several other tricks to try.”

And try he did. Digging up the plants was no more successful than his attempt to cut them down had been. Boiling water only cleansed the mud from the seawall loosestrife’s leaves, and fire refused to catch, no matter how much oil he added first. The only thing left in his bag to try was the bottle of acid, but Iara stopped him with a sharply-toothed snarl before he could uncork it.

“Dumping even that small amount of acid into a water elemental’s territory is a declaration of war,” she said, prompting Taz to carefully place the bottle back up on the dry bank above. 

“I refuse to be bested by something as stupid as weeds.” He crossed his arms and sighed, glaring at the untouched band of purple flowers as if he could kill them with nothing more than willpower and hate.

“Maybe you should hire a green thumb next time,” Iara suggested, a hint of a laugh in her voice. “Or a botanist, at least.”

“I almost had them with the fire,” Taz grumbled, and this time Iara did laugh. “It’s the magic,” he complained. “Normal plants would be dead ten times over by now.

“Yes, but normal plants wouldn’t keep water succubi from overrunning the streets, now would they?”

“There must be something.” He kicked at one of the plants. It grabbed his boot, and he very nearly fell on his back when he tried to pull free. “Don’t you know how to kill this stuff?” he added in desperation, hopping on one foot while trying to extricate himself from the plant’s grasp.

Iara eyed him, one eyebrow raised. “If we knew how to kill it, do you think it would still be here?”

She was right, obviously.  And that was yet another reason the oxbow would be a much better place for water elementals to live. No seawall loosestrife there, because of . . .

Right. He had almost forgotten that.

Taz grinned broadly, slipping his foot from his trapped boot and scurrying up the bank. “I’ve got it this time for sure,” he called over his shoulder to the water succubus. “Back in a jiff.”

Iara was perched on the bridge railing, letting a swallowtail butterfly drink from the water of her finger, when Taz came running back ten minutes later, his one soggy sock slapping wetly on the pavement as he ran, a paper sack tucked under one arm. Sliding back down to the mud, he retrieved his abandoned boot. Then he gave the plants a wicked grin. Tearing open the top of the paper bag, he started dumping white, granulated powder over the flowers.

“Sugar?” Iara asked, startling the butterfly away. “I know I said you’d need to sweeten the deal, but—”

“Not sugar,” Taz said. “Salt. You know, like the salt in the tidal waters that keep the River Bone free of seawall loosestrife.”

Iara blinked in surprise, letting her body go liquid to flow back down the side of the bridge and into the river water below. A moment later, her head lifted from the water’s surface only a foot away from the mud of the bank, long strands of water-clear hair trailing across the river’s surface like spiderwebs. “It’s working,” she breathed.

And it was. Already, the seawall loosestrife was wilting and browning under the barrage of salt grains. “Of course it’s working,” Taz agreed, sounding more confident than he had a right to. He had been fairly sure salt would work, but it could have taken days or weeks to kill the magic plants. Luckily, it seemed their magic worked against them in this case—they were dying quickly. He stomped hard on one of the wilting flowers, enjoying the feeling of it breaking beneath his boot. Stupid weeds, anyway.

“So simple,” Iara said. There was a hint of vicious joy in her tone, as she eagerly watched the plants dying in front of her. “How did you manage to think of something so simply elegant?”

Taz tsked. “Just because I use a sword doesn’t mean I don’t have a brain.”

“You could have fooled me,” Iara said, glancing up at him. “Attacking a magic plant without a botanist? Playing the Motherhood and the Fallowhands against one another? Making deals with water elementals? Hardly the wisest actions I’ve ever seen.”

Taz waved the comment away, scattering more salt on the widening patch of brown plants in the process. “Speaking of deals, does this mean the water succubi will take and defend the River Bone oxbow?”

The water around Iara grew uneasy, as if churned below by a school of razor pike. A moment later, the surface of the river went as smooth as a mirror, and Iara rose out of it to her full height. “It’s kind of you to provide us with an entrance to the city,” she said. She gave a smile that was ninety percent dulcet charm, with just a hint of sharp teeth. “But water incubi are still formidable enemies, even if you manage to lure them from their stronghold. And they would keep harassing us until they regained their territory. It would certainly be safer for us to seek a home elsewhere.”

Taz’s heart skipped a beat, and for half a second he stopped spreading the salt. If he set the water succubi loose on the city instead of relocating them, the city guard would ensure he didn’t see the outside of a cell until he was much too old to enjoy life. Sure, he could probably skip town before that happened, but that would seriously jeopardize his long-term plans. He swallowed hard, turning slightly to spread the salt farther without letting Iara see the shadow of worry flicker in his eyes. He dredged up his best bit of bluster, splashed a brash smirk across his features, and turned back to Iara.

“Wasn’t that the point of sweetening the deal, love?”

Iara tilted her head to one side, eyes tracking from Taz’s eyes to his grin and back again. “Fine,” she said, propping a hand on one full hip. “Impress me.  Let’s hear about this sweetening.”

So he told her. When he was finished, Iara threw her head back and laughed, the explosive force of it making her entire sensuous body shimmer and sparkle in the afternoon sunlight like a cascade of diamonds.

 

* * *

 

Taz watched for the Motherhood caravan from his hiding place behind a dense patch of hazel shrubs. Behind him, the River Bone burbled gently. Downstream, just past the open field colloquially called the Men’s Court—where brave men from town gathered to play football or drink in view of the water incubi and away from their wives and mothers—the slow meander of the oxbow shone placid in the afternoon sunlight. Upstream, the pump station chugged away, drawing up water from the river and sending it across Hazel Street in big pipes to the municipal water distribution building. 

There was little else around; the water distribution building was surrounded by sparse warehouses and scattered abandoned buildings sagging with age. This part of town was quiet. Women stayed clear, wary of becoming a water incubus’s lunch. Even the men, who the incubi would mostly ignore, were nervous to spend time near the water incubi’s territory.

Taz had already completed his preparations in the early hours of morning, scouting the nearby buildings and drainage system. In the nearby uncovered stormwater cistern at the base of the water distribution building, Iara and the other water succubi waited for the fireworks to start. Everything was in place. All Taz could do now was wait.

It was almost exactly three o’clock when the three carts of the Motherhood caravan came up Hazel Street past the pump station, trusting the directions of the city guard detour signs and oblivious to the danger they approached. 

A breeze blew down Hazel Street. Taz heard a nearby splash and a gurgle, and ducked lower behind the hazel shrubs, ignoring the hair standing up along his arms. The Matron in the center cart frowned, staring at the noisy pump station as the horses drawing the carts wickered nervously. And then the water incubi swarmed the caravan. 

Taz stared, marveling at the efficiency with which one water incubus used those sharp teeth to take out the wheels of the lead wagon while a second did the same for the cart at the end. The other two water incubi streamed up into the beds of the carts like snakes up a tree, morphing into their well-muscled male forms just long enough for their teeth to grow sharp before striking. The women shouted, drawing swords—but what can swords do against water?

Taz had never seen an elemental eat before, and was torn between watching in morbid fascination andturning away in queasiness. Water incubi could unhinge their jaws like a python and swallow a woman whole. For a moment beyond ingestion, the woman remained visible inside the water of the incubus’ shape, wide-eyed and frantic, until the flesh dissolved from her bones in an instant. A moment later, the incubus would deposit the spotless white bones on the ground and reach for a new victim. It was unnerving to think that was what the incubi had had in mind for Taz not so long ago. It was a good thing he knew every escape route in the city, or he too might be nothing more than a pile of gleaming bones now.

The Motherhood women were efficient—Taz had to give them that.  They quickly started yelling orders and calling warnings. As soon as they realized swords were useless, they dove for their magic plant cargo. Someone found the cinnamon azolla, and used the tiny plant to send fire at the hissing incubi. 

The Matron was a force to be reckoned with, wielding magic plants and fierce physical attacks with equal ease. But even her underlings were trained well enough to put up a fair show, and the Motherhood group outnumbered the water incubi by a large margin. Taz hoped the elementals would still cause enough mayhem to fulfill his contract with the Fallowhands.

“You have a problem,” Iara said, cool breath no more than an inch from Taz’s ear. He jumped, sword half-drawn, before he realized who had spoken.

“Fallow fields!” he swore. “Warn me next time.”

“Where’s the fun in that?”

Taz gave her a smile, sliding his sword home again. “I wouldn’t want to inadvertently harm a lady,” he said with a wink.

“You think a blade can harm water?” Iara’s voice was all mirth, her hips cocked at a saucy angle. 

“Of course not. But a slice would temporarily mar your beauty.”  Taz managed to tear his eyes away from her figure and look back at the caravan attack. One of the Motherhood guards had found a switch of frostwood and was doing her best to freeze the extremities of any incubus within reach. “What problem? The frostwood?”

“No. One water incubus is protecting their retreat.” 

Taz whipped his gaze around to look at the sparkling blue water of the River Bone. There was no sign of the incubus, but he believed Iara’s assessment. She knew water better than him, after all. 

“Can’t you handle one incubus?” he asked. 

There had been more water succubi than he had expected when he led Iara and the rest from the River Teeth – at least a dozen of them total, maybe more. It was hard to count when half of them remained in the form of flowing water. Still, it had seemed like more than enough to oust a single incubus.

But Iara was shaking her head. “He’s guarding their territory. Elementals have agency over their territory as long as they are physically present. As soon as he knows we’re here, he’ll burrow in like a closed clam, and we’ll have no chance of removing him.  If we can get in, we’ll control the water and they’ll have no way to take it back—but the only way we can take the oxbow is if all of the water incubi are out of the water first.”

Taz made a face. Based on his previous interactions with the water incubi, he hadn’t expected them to have enough self-control for tactics like this. He thought through his options. He could try to tempt the last incubus free by using himself as bait, but Taz rather enjoyed an existence free of incubus teeth in his flesh. He frowned, digging through the contents of his bag for inspiration. Explosives wouldn’t help. Neither would costumes or maps or . . . . His hand landed on the ceramic bottle, tightly corked and wrapped in several layers of waxed linen. He felt himself smile. 

“You said acid in an elemental’s water was a declaration of war?” he asked, pulling the bottle free.

Iara eyed the bottle skeptically. “It is.”

“Will it poison the water?”

“Not a bottle that small. It’s symbolic—a threat of what a larger quantity would do.”

“Perfect.” Taz dug the tightly rolled Motherhood contract out of his pocket and untied the ribbon from around it. With a flourish, he tied it around the neck of the acid bottle instead. He held it up for Iara’s inspection, and she raised one eyebrow. He couldn’t tell if she was impressed or skeptical, but he was willing to pretend it was the former.

“Get ready,” he said. She gave him another look before melting back into the marshy ditch that ran by the road. A moment later, when the Matron did something that made an especially loud boom, Taz hauled back and threw his bottle at the rocks in the shallow edge of the river. 

The ceramic shattered, acid sizzling against the rocks and splashing into the water. A moment later, the largest water incubus Taz had ever seen rose up out of the river’s edge, his angular face bright with enough rage to challenge a hurricane. He found the bottle’s top, the ribbon touched by acid but the metal Motherhood seal beads still recognizable. His glare whipped to the caravan and, in an instant, he was rushing towards the fight like a living flashflood.

A glance over his shoulder showed Taz the new waters streaming surreptitiously into the River Bone. Iara gave a wink and a wave before disappearing below the surface with the others.

As an added bonus, the final enraged water incubus managed to eat three whole gardeners before he was stopped. Thanks to an excessive use of cinnamon azolla that left their rear card on fire, the remaining Motherhood women managed to push the water incubi back. 

Taz swore, recognizing that the fight was about to break. Too soon—Iara and the succubi needed time to arrange a defense. Besides, he hadn’t slowed the Motherhood near enough to meet his Fallowhands contract. He’d need to stall. 

He ducked through the hazel shrubs until he was at the nearest crossroad, the one that serviced the pump station. The water incubi raced by on Hazel Street, headed back towards their territory, and Taz put on all the speed he could to run towards the intersection. A moment later, he burst from the mouth of the cross street at a sprint and nearly collided with a guardswoman giving chase to the elementals. Taz pretended at a fumble, grabbing the guard by the shoulders and spinning her around with him as if to keep his balance.

“I heard shouts,” Taz said, playing at breathlessness. “Was there an attack?”

The guard’s scowl barely lessened when she saw Taz’s city guard costume. She shrugged off his hands. “Water incubi,” she agreed, eyes tracking the elementals as they ran ahead. 

Taz drew his sword, the move “accidentally” blocking the guard from starting towards the oxbow again. “How can I help?” he asked. 

The guardswoman used the switch of frostwood she carried to move Taz’s sword out of her way, leaving intricate patterns of frost sparkling on his blade. Ahead, the incubi were almost to the river’s bank, ready to dive back into the water. Taz felt the prickle of anxiety along the back of his neck as he watched them go. 

“We need to—fallow fields!” 

Whatever it was the guardswoman had been about to suggest they do was lost in the sudden roar of water. From out of the meandering curve of the River Bone, an army of water succubi teeth rose and crashed towards the incoming incubi, gnashing and grinning and sharp. Even from this distance, Taz couldn’t resist the urge to step back, wondering suddenly if maybe he had made the wrong choice after all. 

For a moment, the water incubi defiantly pressed on, seeing what had been theirs suddenly in the possession of a group of enemy elementals. They were fierce and large and strong, and willing to use every tooth and claw available to them. But they were also very outnumbered, and by staking claim in the river itself, the water succubi had gained the metaphysical high ground. The incubi broke like water pouring downhill.

And now there was a problem. At one end of Hazel street the rising, toothy wall of water succubi loomed, ready to protect their new territory. At the other end of Hazel Street was the Motherhood caravan, regrouped and ready for more action. And stuck in the middle, desperate and harassed and weary, were five water incubi who no longer had a place to go. Taz and the Motherhood guards near him all tensed, raising weapons towards the elementals, and the water succubi roared all the louder. And for just a second, the water incubi stopped their rushing waters in the middle of the road, hesitating before the two choices.

Taz broke out in a sweat, licking his lips and gripping his sword tighter. He really didn’t want to fight on the front lines against a bunch of angry water incubi. He had more important things to do in life than be digested by someone who didn’t even recognize his gender. 

Come on, he thought, bouncing on his toes. Come on.

The water incubi made a break for it – perpendicular, down the only side road to lead between buildings into the city, and down into the large open stormwater cistern. The same cistern the water succubi had been hiding in before. The cistern Taz had specifically left open to make the escape blindingly obvious.

He grinned to himself, sheathing his sword. He raced across the road to the municipal water distribution building, climbing the ladder up its back wall to where the pipes from the pump station across the street came into the building. Just at the junction between pipe and building was an emergency release valve, one Taz had staked out during his first visit to the River Bone a couple days ago. It was rarely used, but a couple good kicks got it free. Water gushed from the valve to the street below, flooding directly into the storm drain – and down into the stormwater cistern. 

He left the water running, jumping back to the street below and almost landing on the toes of the guardswoman he had run into before. She nodded a question at the open valve and the deluge of water gushing from it.

“Wash them out the stormwater drains,” Taz half-yelled, trying to be heard over the new noise of rushing water. Out of the stormwater drains and right into the River Teeth, where all the city’s stormwater went. He smirked at the woman, who scowled back, still sour. She looked him up and down, then nodded once, turning on her heel to help clean up the caravan.

Taz glanced over his shoulder, the river calm now that the water succubi had settled below its surface. For just a second, a hand—Iara’s hand—rose from the surface to wave to him. Then it slid back into placid water and Taz turned back to the remaining Motherhood women with a skip in his step and a grin on his face.

 

* * *

 

It was late in the day, the sunlight again waning towards orange-gold as Taz leaned on the rail around the roof’s edge. Below, he watched the River Teeth’s waves sharpened by reflected light, made even keener by the standoff between city guardsmen and water incubi. The city had already shelled out an obscene amount of gold to have a Motherhood green thumb replace the seawall loosestrife where Taz had killed it, but the incubi were furious at being forced from their home and into inferior water. The River Teeth had been uneasy and wild all day. It made the city guards equally restless.

“You know,” said Iara, gliding up behind him with the sound of running water, “they would organize an offensive to retake the oxbow, given the chance.”

“Ah,” Taz said, turning to watch the water succubus approach. “But that’s the whole point of sweetening the deal, isn’t it?”

Iara just quirked her little smile at him.

“Wine?” Taz offered, holding out a glass. He knew water succubi didn’t need food—well, other than the occasional man to eat—but they could still enjoy beverages. This one was a good vintage, one that cost more than Taz was used to. But celebration was in order. 

Iara raised an amused eyebrow, but took the glass. The rosé pinked the water succubus’s full lips when she sipped, adding a blush of color to her cheeks and neck that seemed to smolder with vivacity. “I take it your contracts came through,” she said, lifting the wine in appreciation.

“Of course,” Taz said, pouring a glass of wine for himself. “And a handsome bonus from the Fallowhands for the magic plants that fell off a certain burning Motherhood cart during the fight.” 

He grinned at Iara’s amused look. After flushing the incubi out of the storm drains, Taz had busied himself “helping” the Motherhood reorganize and get back on the road, all the time working to delay them longer instead. It had given him ample opportunity to nick some of their stock and hide it in the shrubbery. Eventually, he had pointed them in the right direction to get back on the road to the Gardenplex. And if he had sent them into the hands of a waiting Fallowhands ambush, well, he couldn’t be everywhere at once, now could he?

“I expected resistance from the Motherhood,” Iara said, taking another sip of her wine. “How did you convince them to pay you for substituting one elemental infestation for another?”

“Oh, they weren’t happy about it,” Taz said. Then he grinned, raising his glass. “But their contract was for me to remove the water incubi from the River Bone. It said nothing about keeping it free of other elementals. They were trapped into paying me by their own contractual pedantry.”

“And they weren’t suspicious of the circumstances? That you were fortuitously in the area when the Motherhood caravan was attacked?”

“Oh, they were more than just suspicious. But they can’t prove anything. I was helping protect the caravan, after all.” 

Still, he had a feeling he wouldn’t get any more contracts from the Motherhood. He had likely burned that bridge. It had been worth it, though, just to see the look on the Matron’s face—like she had swallowed a live bullfrog, and it was jumping the whole way down. 

Iara gave a throaty chuckle. “I’m sure that smooth tongue of yours helped,” she said.

Taz flashed a smile. “How good of you to notice,” he said.

Iara stepped closer to watch the continuing posturing between water incubi and city guards below. “I imagine a similar loophole got you paid by the city guards, too,” she said.

Taz froze with the wine glass against his lips. He set the wine down without drinking, running a hand through his shaggy hair. “Heh. You knew about that contract, did you?” And here he had thought himself so sly.

“Oh, I didn’t know until just now,” Iara purred. “But if I know one thing about smooth tongues, it’s that they tend to be smooth on both sides.”

“Er . . . no hard feelings?”

Iara studied him languidly, taking another sip of her wine. The pink had crept all the way down to her chest and the tops of her breasts by now, a blush in the water that made her look almost warm to the touch. “We’ll see how the rest of today unfolds,” she said finally, glancing upriver at the imposing wall of the city dam. 

Taz grinned. “I promise, you won’t be disappointed.”

“Isn’t it about time?”

Taz glanced down at the clocktower across the city square, then up at the wall of the dam. The River Teeth was high enough that a sheet of water was already coming over the spillway, sparkling like gems in the late daylight as it fell to the dirty river below. “Better get your dancing shoes. The party’s about to start.”

Iara lips quirked. “You know, Taz, when I said you should sweeten the deal, I half expected you to have the audacity to offer a kiss.”

Taz chuckled, remembering his contemplation just that morning. “It had occurred to me. But I figured impertinence was no way to win an ally.”

“Hm. Shame.”

Taz blinked, gaze drawn to her full lips, pinked with wine. “Wait, do you mean . . .?”

“Too late now,” Iara said with a wink. “Better luck next time.”

Taz stared for a moment, then threw back his head and laughed. 

A big, basso boom echoed out over the river and city below. The explosives Taz had planted on the dam’s sluiceway went off like fireworks. Water rushed through, forced out by gravity pressing down from above. The River Teeth picked itself up in a flood that sent the city guards scurrying for higher ground and left the water incubi pounding frantically against the invisible wall made by the seawall loosestrife. The flood roared through the city, splashing up against riverside buildings and gushing over bridges, unstoppable and huge and ten times louder than the explosives had been. 

And the waters roiled and roared and ripped the water incubi from the Women’s Bridge, washing them downriver in an implacable flood that would rage all the way to the ocean.

On a rooftop, high enough that the water looked like it was dancing instead of drumming, like it was sparkling instead of sullied, the two clinked their wine glasses and grinned, watching as the sweetened deal Taz had offered Iara washed past.

Want more short stories? Want to get them before anyone else? Consider supporting us on Patreon! patreon.com/worldsmyths. You can keep up with Worldsmyths and join our writing community on Discord! https://discord.gg/dCW3b6g