The Props Master Prequel: Behind the Ivory Veil
Chapter 23: Down from the Mountain

Copyright© 2017 by aroslav

Fantasy Sex Story: Chapter 23: Down from the Mountain - Myth, Magic, and Mayhem reign for an Indiana couple. When musicologist Wesley Allen is recruited to interpret the strange symbols of The Music of the Gods in the Metéora of Greece, his new wife, Rebecca, pursues her anthropological studies and is initiated into the great Coven Carles in England. The two worlds collide as Wesley and Rebecca find the reality of myth and magic. But will releasing the goddess captive behind the Ivory Veil also tear their lives apart?

Caution: This Fantasy Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   Consensual   Magic   Romantic   Heterosexual   Fiction   First  

Thursday, 18 August 1955, City of the Gods

Doc and Margaret ran up the avenue toward the rostrum. Pol moved more cautiously forward at a distance. Rebecca stood to meet them and began pulling her clothes on. Wesley blushed and scrambled into his own tattered clothing.

“Rebecca!” said Margaret. “How did you ever... ?”

“Wesley, are you all right?” Doc overlapped in the excitement.

“Did you see them?” Wesley ignored the questions, he was so caught up in the experience. “The pillars arrived just before the sunrise. Did you see them coming?” Doc looked around at the pillars showing a complete lack of understanding.

“Wesley, you’re disoriented,” he said, taking in his torn clothing. “You must have had quite a night. Here, drink this.” Doc held a flask against Wesley’s lips and dosed him with pitchy Greek wine. Wesley spluttered helplessly as Doc repeated the dose with Rebecca. She coughed.

“That is not coffee!” she choked. She pushed away the flask away and turned to gather her tools. Her cup, Athamé, and staff lay nearby. She still clutched the star stone in her healed hand. She put the knife in her sleeve sheath and carried the cup and staff in one hand.

“Rebecca, how did you get here? Are you all right?” Margaret rushed to her young friend and pushed Doc aside. The older archaeologist took a healthy drink from the flask and nearly choked himself.

“Yes,” Rebecca said.

“Isn’t it wonderful that my wife arrived in time to celebrate the new moon with me?” Wesley said. He rushed to Rebecca and swung her around. She giggled at him and kissed her lover. “We might be a little shaky from lack of food, but we’re fine. Marcos Paris-whatever-it-is brought me. We got separated last night when Ryan McGuire attacked me in the dark.”

“McGuire is here?” Doc demanded. “He attacked our camp a few days ago. We weren’t there, but he stole most of Wesley’s notes.”

“I don’t know where he is, nor where Marcos is. I assume he walked to your camp as soon as it got light. I’ve no idea what happened to McGuire. I wandered around in the dark until I ended up here and found Wesley.” She looked at her husband’s torn clothes. “Um ... We had a reunion.”

“Oh, my, yes,” Wesley agreed. Rebecca wasn’t sure how much he would remember about how she greeted him with hands, feet, teeth, and nails. Her eye was caught by the youth who stood several feet away looking at her. She stepped off the dais and walked toward Pol. “It’s true, you know,” Wesley continued. “The pillars arrive and take their positions just before sunrise. And the symbols on the platform shift through multiple dimensions.”

Doc looked again at the pillars and then at Wesley. He took another pull from the flask. This time, Margaret nudged him and took a sip herself.

Rebecca stopped in the avenue facing Pol and the two stared at each other a long moment. Slowly, Rebecca held out her hand with the star stone lying in her open palm.

“The key,” Pol whispered. He reached out a tentative hand and touched the stone with his finger. “They are gone. The City is empty. The goddess is free.” Rebecca stepped a bit closer and moved Pol’s hand to touch her stomach.

“She is free.”

A low rumbling filled the air and everyone’s attention was drawn to the West. The sky was dark with thick clouds. The night appeared reluctant to retreat from the sacred city. The entire summer investigating the City, the team had never seen a cloud in the sky. Now, a storm raged with the daylight in a war for dominance.

Lightning split the sky a few hundred feet away, striking one of the massive pillars. The five people watched in awestruck fascination as the mammoth pillar crumbled at its base and came crashing to the ground. The earth shook under the impact of the fallen pillar. Doc went into action belying the amount of wine he had just consumed. He looped their guide rope around Wesley and each took hold of the rope.

“Pol! Get us out of here. We’ll all be killed!”

Pol looked frantically around as if unable to gain his bearings. Margaret made sure Rebecca had hold of the rope in front of her. Pol stood frozen in place.

“I don’t know where. It’s all fogged over,” Pol said. Rebecca moved to his side and put her arm around the frightened boy. In her other hand she held out the jewel.

“We can find the way,” she said softly. The sound of another crashing pillar punctuated her words. Doc, Margaret, and Wesley linked into the chain and the five started down the avenue as the storm raged in the sky above. In seconds, they were encased in fog and pelted with rain. Lightning continued to flash and the sound of falling pillars surrounded them.

Directly in front of Rebecca and Pol, a path appeared and they led the others forward. Ghosts stepped from the blindness to haunt them as they fought their way down the mountain against a wind that would hold them back. Voices screeched out of the fog.

“Back, hag! Back to your fires!” yelled Wesley from the end of the line. His voice rang out in a song that enveloped the travelers and created a bubble of security around them. Encouraged, Pol’s voice rang out in harmony. The star stone held in Rebecca’s hand cut a path for them to follow and they plunged down the slope.

When one fell, all were taken along, rolling and sliding until they came to a halt on the flat sun-drenched plateau where the old olive tree marked their camp. Marcos rushed to meet them and helped the struggling group to their feet.

“I was afraid that I would not find you at all,” he exclaimed. “Is anyone injured? You are wet! Come to the fire.”

“Papa!” Pol ran to his father and threw his arms around his neck. “It’s all gone! The pillars are falling. The gates are closed.”

“It’s happened?” Marcos asked his sobbing son. “Don’t be sad, son. It was never meant to last forever.”

“I don’t understand.”

“But my dear son, you still believe.” Pol looked up at his father. Tears still sparkled in his eyes, but he nodded. “We must attend our friends. One day it will become clear and you will understand.”

Margaret took over comforting the distraught boy and Wesley held his wife in his arms as they looked out at the swift-running stream. Marcos and Doc set about preparing as much food as they could eat. After a few minutes, the crew set about striking their camp and packing everything for the journey back to the Jeep. They would not stay longer on the mountain. Wesley and Pol took the water buckets and dipped them in the current, then doused the fire. They covered the firepit and doused it again.

Then they carted all their supplies down the hillside to the waiting vehicle.


Thursday 18 August 1955, Kastraki, Greece

Dinner was lively when the explorers returned to the little cluster of cottages. As soon as they arrived, Pol spotted his mother and ran to her arms. She had been too worried to stay in Athens and had taken the train to Trikala and hired a ride from there. She showed that she was made of as sturdy and devoted stock as any of the family when she had walked into the courtyard earlier in the day.

“My husband and my son were here and possibly in danger,” Helen declared. “Greek women do not sit at home quietly waiting for word about their brave men.” She turned and smiled warmly at Rebecca. “Especially when they have strong women who set an example.” The two women hugged.

“I’m so glad everyone is back in one piece.”

“It was a near thing,” Marcos said. “I fought a demon on the mountain.”

“What? Marcos!”

“Rebecca went to the stream to refresh herself while I set up camp. I am afraid that I’d wandered around and did not find the path. When we met the man with the burned hand, we detoured, planning to go over the Mouth of Vengeance. We connected farther upstream and decided not to risk a crossing until morning. As I set up the camp, I heard Rebecca scream. She seemed much farther away than I thought she would be and I rushed to aid her. I called for you, Rebecca. I heard you answer once, but then I was attacked.”

“I did answer, but fell into the water and came up on the other side of the stream,” Rebecca confirmed.

“The demon struck me from behind. It kicked me. It pushed me. But every time I swung at it, it was just air. A demon that sprang from the night and I could not see it.”

“Ryan McGuire is reputed to be an excellent fighter,” Doc grumbled.

“I think this was no man. It sprang from the night, striking me. I could not see it, but it could see me, continuing to dart in and out as it punched me. Its eyes blazed like coals. I saw a blade rise to smite me and fell backward into the rocks. I was knocked out. When I awoke ... I don’t remember having moved ... I was in the Jeep and the sun was rising.”

“You had no difficulty finding the camp this morning, though?” Doc asked. “No further encounters with McGuire?”

“No. The way was clear and easy. I am so sorry, Rebecca. I did not mean to desert you, but I could not find you. Then when I neared the camp this morning, I found your shoes beside the stream and was sure you had been swept into the Mouth of Vengeance. I was horrified. Thank God you are all safe,” Marcos whispered as a prayer.

“Marcos, my son,” Andrew spoke at last, “You have needed to face your demons for many years. Last night you purged yourself.”

“But I was not victorious,” his son sighed.

“We learned in the great war that victory does not always mean defeating the enemy. Sometimes, it simply means surviving.”

“Thank you, Papa.”

Helen put her arm around her husband’s shoulders and kissed his cheek. “You brought our son back safely. You are my hero.”

“I’m surprised we didn’t hear any of this,” Doc said. “You must have stumbled right through our camp, Rebecca.”

“With the noises of the night, it is no wonder that we did not hear each other,” Margaret said. “I do not know if they were real or waking nightmares, but it is no stretch for me to believe Marcos fought a demon. There were wails in the darkness that would chill the blood. The three of us huddled together under a single blanket all night long.”

“I am sorry about the condition of the City when we left, though I don’t believe it was anything that we did. Still, I am more than content to let it wash into my memory and not return. I’m glad we have returned, even if a few days early.”

 
There is more of this chapter...
The source of this story is Storiesonline

To read the complete story you need to be logged in:
Log In or
Register for a Free account (Why register?)

Get No-Registration Temporary Access*

* Allows you 3 stories to read in 24 hours.

Close
 

WARNING! ADULT CONTENT...

Storiesonline is for adult entertainment only. By accessing this site you declare that you are of legal age and that you agree with our Terms of Service and Privacy Policy.