“I love, you, I …”
Jade felt her entire body contract, then expand outward. It was like embracing everything, passing over an edge that was in the middle of all things. For a moment, she wasn’t even aware of herself, even though she was surely there.
HuanJen exhaled, feeling himself pour into Jade’s body, holding her as close as possible. He felt was rain coming down on a warm summer night.
With a moment of knife-bright awareness, Jade found herself looking at HuanJen. He was looking back at her, smiling gently. He, who could step outside of materiality, who had faced angry spirits, seemed to nonthreatening, so peaceful.
“Wow.” Jade smiled. “I … love you. And nice job holding off there.”
“A simple application of meditation. I wanted … to experience it together. To share together. It’s not just for cheesy novels, you know.”
“Then,” Jade said playfully, tapping HuanJen’s lips, “I shall forgive you for what could be seen as allowing yoga to infiltrate our sex life.”
“I am not complaining. You?”
Jade shook her head lazily, sliding down to lay next to her lover. “Not a damn bit. Gods … I … missed you. Missed us.”
“And we are back, as always.” HuanJen’s smiled. “I may doubt myself, but I do not doubt us. Not after this past year and more. Never.”
“Never here. Well I may not do the regular religious faith thing, but us, us I have faith in.”
“If I said it was the same thing, would you think it pretentious?”
Jade acted a false sigh after a moment’s analysis. “Yeah, but I think I get it.”
Jade let HuanJen’s warmth overtake her. “It’s all a mystery, all weird, all wonderfully strange. And we’ll see that together.”
“Yes, we will. I am glad to have someone to share it with.”
“I’m glad to have someone show me the way. And let me do his accounting.”
“I think there was little debate about that,” HuanJen answered.
“Mystery and weirdness and the edge of things are our lives. But you want mystery, let’s talk about what your books were like …”
RITUALS: Evocations
September 20, 2000 AD, Xaian Standard Calendar
Lorne Thompson was having a rendezvous with another man.
The large Gendarme, however, could reassure his boyfriend Xianfu that there was nothing untoward going on. He was having a conversation with Slate Shaleson, who was possibly one of the straightest people on Xai and several alternate earths. The gray-pelted Vulpine had heterosexuality down to an art.
Slate was standing in the apartment Lorne shared with his friend Clairice, looking out of the living room window, which gave a remarkably uninteresting view of a small park maintained in the apartment complex. Still, it wasn’t a view of anything particularly offensive, so Lorne considered that a plus.
“Beer?” Lorne asked, proffering a bottle. His wavy blond hair was out of its usual ponytail so he could wash it, giving him the appearance of a disreputable angel who worked out a lot.
Slate took the bottle in a meaty, furred hand. His expression was one of cultured disdain, seeming to not quite fit his broad features.
“I never heard of this brand.”
Lorne shrugged and uncorked the bottle. Uncorked - he still had trouble dealing with some of the oddness of Xai since moving here years ago. Some bottlers found corks easier and cheaper than screwtops or regular caps, and thus, he got to treat beer like champagne.
“I figure why not give it a try,” Lorne answered, “besides, you didn’t come here to socialize my friend. You came to talk.”
“Yes.” Slate removed the cork from his bottle delicately. “It’s something you can obviously help with. Only you can help with.”
“And Rake,” Lorne noted, “He’s got the right connections, and he’ll now the financial picture.”
“Yes,” Slate replied slowly, “I suppose. He probably won’t tell Jade.”
“Yes, Jade.” Lorne took a drink. “I think you’d be worried about Garnet’s reaction. And don’t even start about me and Xianfu.”
“No, no. I’ve learned not to compare couples. We all did. I suppose what worries me is Jade and Garnet know each other, and I’m not sure they can relate to the changes in my life …”
The Orchard was close to closing time. Even if one didn’t notice the clock on the wall, it was fairly obvious; some of the lights that illuminated the strip bar were off. The stage was empty except for one or two Guilders that had fallen out of overstuffed g-strings. The remaining patrons sat around their tables, drinking and talking, awaiting the announcement that meant, no matter how it was phrased “you don’t have to go home, but you can’t stay here.”
Riakka Bale wasn’t used to being in such places as the Orchard, and was actually glad that she had some time before closing. She’d spent a good deal of her life at the University, attested to by her brown and red Historian’s Robes. However, a series of adventures and occurrences had led her to fall in with a rather unusual group of people, and one of those experiences was being taken to a strip bar by Jade and her friends.
It was a nice change in the cycles of her own life.
“Riakka, you look a bit thoughtful,” Jade said in a bit of a slurred manner, dragging Riakka back to reality, though one that had involved a few more alcoholic drinks than the young Historian had intended.
Riakka focused on a pair of leaf-green eyes; in the dim light, Jade’s black fur made her difficult to see. Then again, Jade was wavering a bit which didn’t help.
Or maybe she was wavering. Riakka wasn’t sure. She looked around at the others; red-furred Garnet, serious, knife-like Clairice. She managed to smile, though her lips didn’t work together too well.
“Hey, sorry, thinking. Hey, thanks for bringing me along. This was … something.”
Clairice pointed at Riakka with one slender finger, managing to look serious. “You stuck guilders down a man’s pants for the first time. That is an important part of any lady’s life.”
“Not like you didn’t need it.” Jade said, shifting uncomfortably in her chair, doing her best to get comfortable despite the harness on her back that held the Lakkom, the strange weapon that was her trademark. “Besides, now I feel less guilty about … well worrying about you and HuanJen.”
“It happens,” Riakka waved off the concern. She was feeling amazingly generous lately. Then again consider some months ago she’d been helping Jade and a bunch of clerics track a psychopathic entity that used to be Dean of Historians, it was hard not to feel good about life.
“Eh, our group has it’s jealousies,” Jade mentioned, “Hey, at least with you and Brandon there’s no jealousy about.”
“Yeah,” Riakka nodded, “I mean it’s not like that Garnet and HuanJen thing.”
Garnet suddenly focused on the young Historian, a small, crimson-pelted ball of confusion. “What? Who told you?”
“Um … well it seems fairly obvious, I just pieced things together … it’s sort of my … job …”
Clairice patted Garnet’s arm, comforting the distressed Vulpine. “Honey, it was obvious as hell. The only person that didn’t know was Brandon, and I don’t even want to think about what kind of blind spot he had to miss that.”
Garnet sighed. “I understand. It just gets confusing. And annoying. Especially with the wedding.”
Jade put an arm around Garnet’s shoulder. “Hey, once you and Slate land a house, it’s done. Over. Ended. Moved to the next stage. A ritual of transition. Just hurry up because we’re not going to be able to do the wedding on the roof of the Crosspoint if it gets any colder and they you may need to shell out some Guilders.”
“We’re trying, we’re trying. You know, we were not ready for this, and now …”
“Lot’s of immigration,” Riakka cut in, “I hear at least one level two earth is facing a world war as well, and after all the … well you know what all the politics did to prices and people looking
for a good investment.”
“She’s useful, I’m glad she’s part of the gang,” Clairice smirked.
“It’s the training.” Riakka downed her drink. “You learn to just let facts fall into your head. Like it or fucking not. I really needed to get out more.”
Three pairs of eyes looked back at Riakka. Two were surrounded by fur.
“What?”
“She swore,” Clairice said with mock seriousness. “Truly, she is now relaxed. How many of those little wine things did you have.”
“I don’t know. I admit I’m indifferent to the number. Hey, thanks … again.”
“You did enough weird shit.” Jade answered. “Consider yourself … hell, initiated. Supernatural crap and all.”
Riakka nodded. “So, after tonight, what’s up with everyone?”
“The new kitchen floor. Lorne has patrol so I get to wait for the repairman.” Clairice said bitterly. “We pay these people enough, I want my money’s worth.”
Jade thought for a moment. “Well, check in to see if Mrs. Criswell is going to go to the hospital before the baby comes. Then … the usual stuff while I prepare for the next meeting of the Apprentices. First in awhile, we didn’t do much with all the crap. Back to our traditions and rituals.”
Garnet broke in. “Housework, budget, and … dealing with our choices.” Garnet replied. “Slate’s been a bit odd. No comments about your brother, Jade.”
“Damn …”
September 26, 2000 AD, Xaian Standard Calendar
Slate had many reasons to avoid Jade, and, sadly, many reasons not to.
His relationship with his sister was an odd part of a life he’d tried very hard to remove oddness from. Jade had been responsible for integrating him into Rake and HuanJen’s little group, and thanks to her he had found a best friend in the Gendarme Lorne Thompson. Jade was also a person who tended to get involved in things, and under the tutelage of HuanJen, who had gone from her employer to her mentor and lover in disturbingly short time, she’d become more likely to be involved in things. Add in the fact she was his sister …
… there were times he needed to avoid her.
Slate had expected a rather uneventful visit to Rake, proprietor of the Church of the Works of Christ and a job placement service. The squat minister was an excellent source of information on the local job market, both due to a shrewd mind and a strong belief in his Church’s policy that work was a noble, soul-rising endeavor that also was good as you happened to get paid.
As he was happily employed and not even vaguely interested in any of the forms of Christianity that Xai had to offer, he didn’t want to explain her presence to Jade. Jade had a way of wielding questions like scalpels until she carved enough for you to bleed facts.
“Hey, Rake!” Jade’s voice echoed from the chapel into the back office.
Rake looked up from the messy desk that dominated the room and noted Slate’s expression. “Just, ah, a moment. You can, ah, slip out the back.” Rake made a few vague gestures.
“We’re not finished.” Slate hissed. “I don’t know when I can get back.”
Rake rolled his eyes. “I . .. ah, wait a moment.”
The minister galloped out of the office in a flutter of black robes. Slate shook his head. One of the few times he found a use for religion, and he got interrupted by his sister - who was in a religious profession. He tried to appreciate the irony, but he had little use for irony either.
He tried not to listen to the conversation in the chapel, though neither Jade nor Rake were particularly quiet - they were the kinds of people that made others sometime wish they’d come with a volume control.
Jade was talking about something. Rake was going to help her. Rake state he was busy with a private client (which was not a lie - Slate had to compliment him on his imaginative ethics). Jade eventually went on her own way.
“Well, ah, that was, ah, taken care of.” Rake said pleasantly, walking back into the office, rubbing his hands.
“What was that about?” Slate inquired.
“Spiritual discussions,” Rake answered primly, “your, ah, sister is taking her position and her spiritual endeavors, ah, quite seriously.”
“I heard her mention ‘anger.’”
Rake sat back behind his desk. His eyes glimmered beneath his mane of sandy hair. “We have, ah, things in common. We talk now and then. As to your, ah, situation …”
Slate stirred uncomfortably. “I do not consider this a ‘spiritual situation.’ I consider it … a social and ethical one. It just impacts my job in the most critical way.”
“To, ah, me, that is all, ah, the same thing.” Rake smiled pleasantly, an odd expression on his lump of a face.
“Perhaps.” Slate shook his head. Clerics. “Lorne is helping, keeping it quiet. After HuanJen got that change in the guild, and Xianfu joining the University … I did not wish to appear to be ‘jumping on the bandwagon.’”
“It’s not, ah, it’s not.” The minister thought for a moment. “Ah, I wouldn’t, ah, mention the house thing to, ah, Garnet until she, ah, understands all of it.”
Slate rubbed his broad, gray-furred brow. “That… may take some doing. If I go through with this. No, when.”
“Yes, when.”
“I … you know I have made my decision. Do, please, keep this from Jade. And HuanJen. I don’t wish it to reach Garnet’s ears early. She may not understand. And people have a tenancy to talk in our little group no matter the circumstances …”
“Our, ah, group talks even, ah, when there are no circumstances. I, ah, understand.”
September 28, 2000 AD, Xaian Standard Calendar
HuanJen was entangled in a mass of covers, sheets, and Jade Shalesdaughter’s limbs. This, he felt, was an excellent way to enjoy oneself, though the actions leading up to such entanglements were even more enjoyable. However, today was special.
“And … how about this to celebrate your apprenticeship’s anniversary?” The Taoist mystic asked, dark eyes sparkling.
Jade, her face largely buried in his neck, let out a purr. “Nice. Was that intended to teach me any lessons about life and the universe and things?”
“Not really. I just wanted make love to you.”
“Really? Well, it did feel like a religious experience.” Jade unwrapped herself slightly from her lover. She ran a hand through his dark hair, playing with the odd white streak that decorated it. “Hmmmmm. I love you, you know.”
“And I you,” HuanJen ran his finger’s over the sharp angles of Jades black-furred face. “Well, to many, many more years of us together in all ways.”
“Amen. Or whatever. You know, I wish your religion had some word like that.”
“Sorry, we work with what we have. Well, what shall we do now?”
Jade thought of shrugging, but in her current position she probably would have hurt one or both of them. “I think staying here for the foreseeable future is an excellent idea - and if I know you in about a half hour or so we can celebrate again.”
“That may be longer. We celebrated this morning. In the shower,” HuanJen noted, “And I did invoke the Knife with No Edge today - remember I had to catch up with that poor girl generating the poltergeist.”
Jade managed to snap her fingers. “Damn. We may have to make due with conversation and a pleasant dinner then.”
“Such are the limitations we face.” HuanJen’s smile was like a sliver of springtime.
“Hey … what is for dinner, I’m kind of hungry.” Jade asked sheepishly. “Sorry to kill the mood. Just … kinda noticed.”
HuanJen stretched, his lean body moving like columns of quicksilver. “I was going to do stir-fry. Wait … wasn’t Slate visiting?”
Jade shook her head. “He called this afternoon when you were out. Actually, he’s sort of been very standoffish. Like in a different way. Garnet mentioned it.”
“I hope it’s nothing like … the last few times.” HuanJen replied. The summer had proven to be an odd time for he,
Jade, and several couples, a mix of jealousy and confusion over relationships.
“Nah, nah. Garnet thinks it’s something up with the house and you know how Slate gets. And why are we talking about another couple?”
“Good point.” HuanJen noted, drawing Jade close.
The two lay in each others arms for awhile. Jade placed her head on HuanJen’s chest, listening to his heartbeat, inhaling his scent. The world seemed to spread out in every direction.
“I’m going to do that speech at the next meeting of the apprentices.” Jade said muzzily. “About things after the Historian. It’s amazing how long it’s been since we held a regular meeting.”
“Yes. And … why are we talking about work?”
“Good point.”
October 4, 2000 AD, Xaian Standard Calendar
Garnet Rubissom’s goal was to be a housewife and mother.
This made people assume she wasn’t ambitious or, worse, that she wasn’t that bright. Those expressing such sentiments however would find they were quickly wrong. Those who expressed such sentiments in front of her live-in fiancee Slate would find they were wrong and a very large and muscular gray-furred man was upset with them.
Garnet had almost reached her goal of being incredibly domestic through hard work, investing, learning, and planning. Slate had worked, she managed the finances and the house. Had she had ambitions in business, the Mercantile Alliance would likely have had a new rising star.
Instead, Slate had the light of his life.
However, Slate himself occasionally underestimated her in a sort of round-about way - not so much doubting her skills, but not thinking about them. Garnet was an occasional blind spot in his life - she was as regular as the rising of the sun, and you could take her for granted.
Garnet sat on the couch in the small living room, looking over a file folder containing numerous papers, printouts, and cut-outs-from local home magazines.
“What the …”
Slate should also have realized that she was used to keeping the house. So when she’d found a file lying on the couch, she’d naturally take a look at it. She was a very, very tidy person.
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