27x04
Special thanks to spyscribe and Jenber for their comments on and contributions to the Nyoko and Mena sections, respectively...
Nyoko had heard the music of the Dance of the Seven-Fold Secrets in rehearsal, of course, but as she raised her right leg in the achingly slow and beautiful first gesture of the dance, she experienced a second of doubt—where is the rhythm? Everything about this performance was so unusual: the music itself, the heavy incense, her costume, and the fact only half her audience was watching; the other half was preoccupied with other pursuits. Lord Tanaka was in the front row, his eyes studying one of her more obscure tattoos, deliberately revealed by Nyoko’s costume as she moved her weight from heel to toe. Next to him was Unsuku, leaning forward with a smirk, as hungry for a mistake as Tanaka was for delight.
Unsuku's expression fired Nyoko with a flare of competitive fever. With that heat racing through her, her leg reached the top of its arch and she slid into the rhythm of the music and knew that she owned it. She owned the rhythm, the music, and each caress, curve, and sinuous spin of the Seven-Fold Secrets themselves.
As she stretched luxuriously into the dance's final posture, she knew she owned her audience, too.
She stepped off the stage amid a roar of appreciation. Lord Tanaka was waiting for her, his eyes almost feral. Unsuku was at his right side, and Mena had materialized—in her role as Nyoko’s bodyguard—at his left.
"I taught her everything she knows," Unsuku was saying. "But not everything I know."
Nyoko wasn't sure if she was glad or sorry to see that Lord Tanaka didn't give a damn what Unsuku knew at that moment. He kept staring at Nyoko.
"I wonder," said Mena, "if a … private audience … is desirable?"
"Indeed," rumbled Tanaka.
Servants led them immediately to the back of the hall, drew aside draperies, and stepped away as they entered a small chamber beyond. Nyoko caught a glimpse of silk pillows and filigreed brass lamps before Lord Tanaka ripped off his outer robe and embraced her. His lips sought her lips, her neck, and Nyoko tried to keep her bearings.
She wasn’t an innocent. She knew what Lord Tanaka assumed would be the second movement of the dance. She also knew that she had only to leave the room, and he would not pursue her. But if she left, the heathens would lose their sole chance to speak with the Head of Lands. She tried shifting Lord Tanaka’s hand away from her breast. With a grin, he found somewhere else to put it.
Nyoko looked away, and her eyes met Mena’s.
A few days before, Nyoko had explained to Mena the many layers of conflict of interest recognized by the Adepts in their role as impartial witnesses. Near family, distant family, family by marriage, business associates, people who owed members of your family money, lovers… Finally Mena had cut to the chase: “You don’t want to have sex with him.”
“It’s more nuanced than that. Aside from the Adepts, I have no family. That means I have a very small sphere of conflicts, which makes me a versatile and useful witness. Lord Tanaka will create complications—”
“No sex with Lord Tanaka, got it. If you change your mind, let me know.”
"I counsel patience, my lord," came Mena's voice now. Lord Tanaka didn't seem to hear her, so Mena ripped him away from Nyoko and flung him back onto the pillows. He stared, wide-eyed, as Mena, Nyoko, and Unsuku stood over him… and then he grinned and flung his arms wide to the three of them. "Even better!" he roared.
Mena rolled her eyes.
"Lord Tanaka-san, we—we need to talk," said Nyoko, as gently as she could.
His eyes narrowed as he stared at her. Nyoko drew herself up with as much Adept authority as she could muster and announced, "We need to discuss a governmental matter of utmost importance and secrecy. Cauldron faces grave danger from the terrorists known as the Tide."
He sat up with a grunt and his eyes actually rose high enough to meet hers for the first time. "You're serious," he muttered. "This night, of all nights, you dare to interrupt my—" He began to rise angrily, but suddenly Unsuku was there, pulling him back down to the pillows, twining her arms around him, stroking his chest.
"We are serious, my lord," she murmured, "and we are most appalled that this interruption was required, and I promise you…" She lowered her voice to whisper in his ear. "When you've heard us out, there will be rewards…." Her voice grew too soft for Nyoko to hear, but she saw the blood spring into Tanaka's cheeks as he gazed, entranced, into Unsuku's eyes.
"Very well," he gasped. "Talk quickly…"
They did, explaining the threat posed by the Tide and the necessity of going the long way around the Circle to defeat it. Lord Tanaka's attention fell away from Unsuku—mostly—as he listened, and he sat up in surprise when they explained how much progress they'd already made.
"You conniving little…" he muttered, and Unsuku giggled and bit his earlobe playfully. Tanaka tangled a hand in her hair and pulled her in for a kiss. Mena turned away in annoyance. Then Tanaka turned his gaze back to Nyoko and demanded, with impressive cogency, "But what has this to do with me? Of course you need me, but why do I need you? The most important things to me are here, tonight, not in my office at Lands."
"And here is where they will strike," said Mena. "They are traditionalists. If they take power, they will sweep through Cauldron shutting down everything that doesn't accord with their austere Kettenite principles. Do you truly think your indulgence parties could continue under such a repressive regime?"
He looked thoughtful for the first time. Nyoko knelt in front of him, sensing an opening. "But if you side with us, and we win," she said softly, "you will have more power than ever before, and more freedom. You are already a great man, but you could be a hero…"
He looked at her, considering. Then he sighed. "Ah, you beautiful Adept," he said. "I couldn't resist you on the stage, and I cannot here. You have my support."
Nyoko bowed deeply where she knelt. "Thank you, Lord Tanaka-san," she said.
"And now, my lord, shall we … consummate the agreement?" asked Unsuku. Lord Tanaka laughed a deep rumbling laugh and pulled her on top of him.
"Right, we're done here," said Mena, and marched for the door. Nyoko, feeling eager for a breath of fresh air, rose quickly and followed.
###
Mena wanted to put as much distance between herself and that back room as possible, right now. She understood that Unsuku was willing—even that Unsuku was eager—to do whatever was now happening between her and Lord Tanaka. Unsuku desired professional advancement and considered this a means to that end. Mena hoped that she was also enjoying herself. Still, it felt faintly as if they had bought Tanaka's support with Unsuku's body, and—and Mena didn't care to picture what was happening in that room now. That was all.
She spotted Kormick across the room looking thoroughly entertained by the party around him, and she remembered Arden's words about him as they'd arrived. Arden and her silly romantic ideas. There is no “thing.” I would know if there was a “thing.” And anyway, Defiers don’t have “things.” That said, Kormick was an excellent ally if one wanted to not think about goings-on in back rooms. Mena marched straight up to him and barked, "Jan, get me a drink. Possibly also a bath. But first a drink."
Kormick took one look at her face.
Then he turned, punched the man next to him, grabbed his drink before it fell, and thrust the goblet into Mena's hands.
Mena tossed it back at a gulp, too flabbergasted to question what was in the cup.
It burned. It burned like fire.
And then—whoops, that was fast—the room began to twist around on itself in lovely, funny ways, and Jan Kormick laughed at her, caught her with one strong arm, and nearly tipped them both over. Mena burst out laughing. She felt off-balance, and Jan’s hand at her waist was warm and...distracting. She leaned into him, steadying them both, but a tiny voice in her mind was crying dangerous, dangerous, so dangerous... Mena failed to entirely resist the unfamiliar urge to see if she could fit more closely under Jan’s arm. When did I start thinking of him as “Jan?” I should really let go now. I’m sure we can stand on our own. Maybe in just a minute.
Twiggy came hurrying up, Arden gliding behind her. "Did you talk to Tanaka? How did it go?"
"Oh, it went," said Mena. Twiggy was such a good girl. Always responsible. She patted Twiggy on the arm. "All's good. Yup, all done. Good job." Is Arden smirking? Better rectify that.. She pointed at Arden. "I. Am. Not. Having. Any. Fun."
Arden grinned. "Why not?" she said, glancing to Jan and back. Mena felt an excited flicker inside her that was more than just the drink, and instantly the small voice at the back of her head started in again. Don’t be an idiot. You’re not supposed to do this sort of thing. But Arden seemed unconcerned, and Arden was usually right about when to be concerned. So maybe . . . Mena set the big question aside. This was an indulgence party. Flirting was expected, even if only for the sake of appearances. She let her head tip back. Jan’s chest was there, behind her head, holding it up.
"The only thing worse than a murder slave," pronounced Jan, slurring his words ever so slightly, "is a sober murder slave. Let's get you one of these things Mena drank—when the fairies kick in, they're fantastic—" He moved as if to let go of Mena and punch somebody else, but Mena held him back. She needed him—or more terrifyingly, she wanted him—to stay close—just for a minute. And Arden was waving him off anyway.
At the back of Mena's mind, the tiny voice whispered icily, You’re making a fool of yourself. Arden likes to joke, but has Kormick ever given you any real reason to think he’d have sought you out if you hadn’t found him first? That’s not what you’re good for, Defier.
"Well, if everything's going so well…" Twiggy said, and Mena saw that Twiggy had a object in her hands, a little pearl-like pill, sparkling with enchantment. She was fingering it carefully.
"What's that?" Mena asked.
"Something… outside the rules," Twiggy said. "It's supposed to let you set aside logic, rationality…"
"Welcome to my life," said Jan. "Rational, honest corruption until it becomes apocalyptically insane. But this is a good party."
They all watched with interest as Twiggy took a deep breath, placed the pill carefully on her tongue, and then swallowed.
There was a slight pop, and Twiggy—vanished.
Arden gasped. Mena blinked. "Huh," said Jan. "Must be a trick of the candles."
"And the drinking," Mena suggested.
"I don't think so," said Arden. "I think she teleported."
“That’s what she does when she’s free from logic? She teleports?” Jan asked.
“I think,” Arden said very patiently, “the worrisome part is where she teleported to and what she’s going to do there…”
Mena turned around in Jan's arms until she was staring at the wall behind her. Jan looked, too. No sign of Twiggy there. "Students need freedom to explore," Mena told the wall. She saw Jan nodding agreement out of the corner of her eye. "So do teachers. It is a part of life." With that, the voice in Mena's head finally faded away into the raucous sounds of the party. Good. Tomorrow she would go back to being responsible and not having "things" with people and forgetting how Jan's hand felt as it held her steady. Tomorrow she'd forget all this and a few indulgent hours wouldn't have made a difference.
The wall leaned out to embrace her—no, that was Jan, warm and alive… much better than a wall…
"Gods!" yelped Arden, as if she'd been stung. Mena whirled back guiltily, reeled, and straightened in time to see Arden reach down and grab something off her ankle. It was a wriggling, panicked mouse: Acorn.
Special thanks to spyscribe and Jenber for their comments on and contributions to the Nyoko and Mena sections, respectively...
Nyoko had heard the music of the Dance of the Seven-Fold Secrets in rehearsal, of course, but as she raised her right leg in the achingly slow and beautiful first gesture of the dance, she experienced a second of doubt—where is the rhythm? Everything about this performance was so unusual: the music itself, the heavy incense, her costume, and the fact only half her audience was watching; the other half was preoccupied with other pursuits. Lord Tanaka was in the front row, his eyes studying one of her more obscure tattoos, deliberately revealed by Nyoko’s costume as she moved her weight from heel to toe. Next to him was Unsuku, leaning forward with a smirk, as hungry for a mistake as Tanaka was for delight.
Unsuku's expression fired Nyoko with a flare of competitive fever. With that heat racing through her, her leg reached the top of its arch and she slid into the rhythm of the music and knew that she owned it. She owned the rhythm, the music, and each caress, curve, and sinuous spin of the Seven-Fold Secrets themselves.
As she stretched luxuriously into the dance's final posture, she knew she owned her audience, too.
She stepped off the stage amid a roar of appreciation. Lord Tanaka was waiting for her, his eyes almost feral. Unsuku was at his right side, and Mena had materialized—in her role as Nyoko’s bodyguard—at his left.
"I taught her everything she knows," Unsuku was saying. "But not everything I know."
Nyoko wasn't sure if she was glad or sorry to see that Lord Tanaka didn't give a damn what Unsuku knew at that moment. He kept staring at Nyoko.
"I wonder," said Mena, "if a … private audience … is desirable?"
"Indeed," rumbled Tanaka.
Servants led them immediately to the back of the hall, drew aside draperies, and stepped away as they entered a small chamber beyond. Nyoko caught a glimpse of silk pillows and filigreed brass lamps before Lord Tanaka ripped off his outer robe and embraced her. His lips sought her lips, her neck, and Nyoko tried to keep her bearings.
She wasn’t an innocent. She knew what Lord Tanaka assumed would be the second movement of the dance. She also knew that she had only to leave the room, and he would not pursue her. But if she left, the heathens would lose their sole chance to speak with the Head of Lands. She tried shifting Lord Tanaka’s hand away from her breast. With a grin, he found somewhere else to put it.
Nyoko looked away, and her eyes met Mena’s.
A few days before, Nyoko had explained to Mena the many layers of conflict of interest recognized by the Adepts in their role as impartial witnesses. Near family, distant family, family by marriage, business associates, people who owed members of your family money, lovers… Finally Mena had cut to the chase: “You don’t want to have sex with him.”
“It’s more nuanced than that. Aside from the Adepts, I have no family. That means I have a very small sphere of conflicts, which makes me a versatile and useful witness. Lord Tanaka will create complications—”
“No sex with Lord Tanaka, got it. If you change your mind, let me know.”
"I counsel patience, my lord," came Mena's voice now. Lord Tanaka didn't seem to hear her, so Mena ripped him away from Nyoko and flung him back onto the pillows. He stared, wide-eyed, as Mena, Nyoko, and Unsuku stood over him… and then he grinned and flung his arms wide to the three of them. "Even better!" he roared.
Mena rolled her eyes.
"Lord Tanaka-san, we—we need to talk," said Nyoko, as gently as she could.
His eyes narrowed as he stared at her. Nyoko drew herself up with as much Adept authority as she could muster and announced, "We need to discuss a governmental matter of utmost importance and secrecy. Cauldron faces grave danger from the terrorists known as the Tide."
He sat up with a grunt and his eyes actually rose high enough to meet hers for the first time. "You're serious," he muttered. "This night, of all nights, you dare to interrupt my—" He began to rise angrily, but suddenly Unsuku was there, pulling him back down to the pillows, twining her arms around him, stroking his chest.
"We are serious, my lord," she murmured, "and we are most appalled that this interruption was required, and I promise you…" She lowered her voice to whisper in his ear. "When you've heard us out, there will be rewards…." Her voice grew too soft for Nyoko to hear, but she saw the blood spring into Tanaka's cheeks as he gazed, entranced, into Unsuku's eyes.
"Very well," he gasped. "Talk quickly…"
They did, explaining the threat posed by the Tide and the necessity of going the long way around the Circle to defeat it. Lord Tanaka's attention fell away from Unsuku—mostly—as he listened, and he sat up in surprise when they explained how much progress they'd already made.
"You conniving little…" he muttered, and Unsuku giggled and bit his earlobe playfully. Tanaka tangled a hand in her hair and pulled her in for a kiss. Mena turned away in annoyance. Then Tanaka turned his gaze back to Nyoko and demanded, with impressive cogency, "But what has this to do with me? Of course you need me, but why do I need you? The most important things to me are here, tonight, not in my office at Lands."
"And here is where they will strike," said Mena. "They are traditionalists. If they take power, they will sweep through Cauldron shutting down everything that doesn't accord with their austere Kettenite principles. Do you truly think your indulgence parties could continue under such a repressive regime?"
He looked thoughtful for the first time. Nyoko knelt in front of him, sensing an opening. "But if you side with us, and we win," she said softly, "you will have more power than ever before, and more freedom. You are already a great man, but you could be a hero…"
He looked at her, considering. Then he sighed. "Ah, you beautiful Adept," he said. "I couldn't resist you on the stage, and I cannot here. You have my support."
Nyoko bowed deeply where she knelt. "Thank you, Lord Tanaka-san," she said.
"And now, my lord, shall we … consummate the agreement?" asked Unsuku. Lord Tanaka laughed a deep rumbling laugh and pulled her on top of him.
"Right, we're done here," said Mena, and marched for the door. Nyoko, feeling eager for a breath of fresh air, rose quickly and followed.
###
Mena wanted to put as much distance between herself and that back room as possible, right now. She understood that Unsuku was willing—even that Unsuku was eager—to do whatever was now happening between her and Lord Tanaka. Unsuku desired professional advancement and considered this a means to that end. Mena hoped that she was also enjoying herself. Still, it felt faintly as if they had bought Tanaka's support with Unsuku's body, and—and Mena didn't care to picture what was happening in that room now. That was all.
She spotted Kormick across the room looking thoroughly entertained by the party around him, and she remembered Arden's words about him as they'd arrived. Arden and her silly romantic ideas. There is no “thing.” I would know if there was a “thing.” And anyway, Defiers don’t have “things.” That said, Kormick was an excellent ally if one wanted to not think about goings-on in back rooms. Mena marched straight up to him and barked, "Jan, get me a drink. Possibly also a bath. But first a drink."
Kormick took one look at her face.
Then he turned, punched the man next to him, grabbed his drink before it fell, and thrust the goblet into Mena's hands.
Mena tossed it back at a gulp, too flabbergasted to question what was in the cup.
It burned. It burned like fire.
And then—whoops, that was fast—the room began to twist around on itself in lovely, funny ways, and Jan Kormick laughed at her, caught her with one strong arm, and nearly tipped them both over. Mena burst out laughing. She felt off-balance, and Jan’s hand at her waist was warm and...distracting. She leaned into him, steadying them both, but a tiny voice in her mind was crying dangerous, dangerous, so dangerous... Mena failed to entirely resist the unfamiliar urge to see if she could fit more closely under Jan’s arm. When did I start thinking of him as “Jan?” I should really let go now. I’m sure we can stand on our own. Maybe in just a minute.
Twiggy came hurrying up, Arden gliding behind her. "Did you talk to Tanaka? How did it go?"
"Oh, it went," said Mena. Twiggy was such a good girl. Always responsible. She patted Twiggy on the arm. "All's good. Yup, all done. Good job." Is Arden smirking? Better rectify that.. She pointed at Arden. "I. Am. Not. Having. Any. Fun."
Arden grinned. "Why not?" she said, glancing to Jan and back. Mena felt an excited flicker inside her that was more than just the drink, and instantly the small voice at the back of her head started in again. Don’t be an idiot. You’re not supposed to do this sort of thing. But Arden seemed unconcerned, and Arden was usually right about when to be concerned. So maybe . . . Mena set the big question aside. This was an indulgence party. Flirting was expected, even if only for the sake of appearances. She let her head tip back. Jan’s chest was there, behind her head, holding it up.
"The only thing worse than a murder slave," pronounced Jan, slurring his words ever so slightly, "is a sober murder slave. Let's get you one of these things Mena drank—when the fairies kick in, they're fantastic—" He moved as if to let go of Mena and punch somebody else, but Mena held him back. She needed him—or more terrifyingly, she wanted him—to stay close—just for a minute. And Arden was waving him off anyway.
At the back of Mena's mind, the tiny voice whispered icily, You’re making a fool of yourself. Arden likes to joke, but has Kormick ever given you any real reason to think he’d have sought you out if you hadn’t found him first? That’s not what you’re good for, Defier.
"Well, if everything's going so well…" Twiggy said, and Mena saw that Twiggy had a object in her hands, a little pearl-like pill, sparkling with enchantment. She was fingering it carefully.
"What's that?" Mena asked.
"Something… outside the rules," Twiggy said. "It's supposed to let you set aside logic, rationality…"
"Welcome to my life," said Jan. "Rational, honest corruption until it becomes apocalyptically insane. But this is a good party."
They all watched with interest as Twiggy took a deep breath, placed the pill carefully on her tongue, and then swallowed.
There was a slight pop, and Twiggy—vanished.
Arden gasped. Mena blinked. "Huh," said Jan. "Must be a trick of the candles."
"And the drinking," Mena suggested.
"I don't think so," said Arden. "I think she teleported."
“That’s what she does when she’s free from logic? She teleports?” Jan asked.
“I think,” Arden said very patiently, “the worrisome part is where she teleported to and what she’s going to do there…”
Mena turned around in Jan's arms until she was staring at the wall behind her. Jan looked, too. No sign of Twiggy there. "Students need freedom to explore," Mena told the wall. She saw Jan nodding agreement out of the corner of her eye. "So do teachers. It is a part of life." With that, the voice in Mena's head finally faded away into the raucous sounds of the party. Good. Tomorrow she would go back to being responsible and not having "things" with people and forgetting how Jan's hand felt as it held her steady. Tomorrow she'd forget all this and a few indulgent hours wouldn't have made a difference.
The wall leaned out to embrace her—no, that was Jan, warm and alive… much better than a wall…
"Gods!" yelped Arden, as if she'd been stung. Mena whirled back guiltily, reeled, and straightened in time to see Arden reach down and grab something off her ankle. It was a wriggling, panicked mouse: Acorn.
