Way Walkers: Tangled Paths (The Tazu Saga)

by Leigh, J.

  “Think of it as just picking up another language. All you have to do is observe and mimic. It’s the easiest thing in the world.” Ass’shiri crooked a finger at the nearest mei carrying a tray of wine glasses, and within two seconds, he had her giggling. After ten, she was promising to be back when her rotation was over.

  Once she left, Ass’shiri turned back to Jathen. “See? It’s all about poise. If you’re confident and smile the right way, it almost doesn’t matter what you say. Almost. And don’t worry about making them laugh. Most girls want you to make them laugh. If you do it right and keep your head, a stupid blunder can turn into a brilliant joke.”

  “Far easier said than done, Ass.”

  “Well exactly. Practice makes perfect. That’s why we’re here.” He looked around the room. “Now let me find one for you to try on…”

  “Oh, wait a minute—”

  “There.” Ass’shiri dipped his wine glass in the direction of the bar. “That one.”

  Despite himself, Jathen turned. “The pink one?”

  “What?” The Clansman blinked. “Hell, no… I think… pink?”

  “All I see are freaking Tazu, Ass. What do you want from me?”

  “She’s got blue hair.”

  “The girls all have blue hair!”

  “Well, ruddy hell… I don’t know what you’re seeing!”

  Jathen sighed. “Why don’t you describe her clothes? At least that’s consistent.”

  “She’s not really wearing all that much.”

  “Oh. That one.”

  The mei in question was resoundingly lovely, her scales a tangerine hue, which oddly didn’t clash too horribly with her blue hair. Clad in a very loose, flowing robe cut about two inches too short for decency, she leaned against the bar, chatting with a Lu’shun man who had blue scales and black-dyed hair. Swallowing hard, Jathen stammered, “Wh-why her?”

  “Look at her body language. She’s bored out of her mind!”

  Risking another glance, Jathen saw her exquisitely sculpted lips were carved into a clear pout, and she wasn’t even looking at the man talking to her. Rather, she was staring at the door while drumming her fingers on the bar.

  Ass’shiri nudged him. “At the very least, you’d be doing her a favor, swooping in and saving her from a bad conversation.”

  “But what would I say?”

  “I don’t know, Jath. What would you say to any girl to make her laugh when she’s bored?”

  “Ass, the only girls I ever talk to regularly are my sister and my mother.”

  “So what would you say to your sister?”

  “Oh hell, I’d just walk right up to Thee and ask her if she wanted to get some air before the dull bulb put her to sleep.”

  “Ha! See? Now, that’s not half bad.” Ass’shiri nodded. “You’d have to time it just right and make certain he didn’t hear you, but it’s not a bad line. Little gutsy, little funny, a good go, I think. Go. Try it.”

  “Ass—”

  “Go. Before I drag you over there by your hair.”

  With the tone in Ass’shiri’s voice eerily akin to Hatori’s, Jathen realized there would be no winning this argument. “Oh, what the hell.” He groaned, rising from his seat. “Might as well, since I’m here.” Heading for the mei, he heard slips of conversation, different languages all colliding in his head as a menagerie of noise.

  “The greatest performance ever…”

  “…all shut down for months now…”

  “…heard it was his first affair…”

  “…the whole dig was abandoned. No one knows why…”

  “…maybe just a rash…”

  “…I suspect ghosts… All the off-islands are haunted…”

  Jathen reached her. Twirling her mei talisman through nimble fingers, the girl stared expectantly at him.

  Jathen realized he’d better either say something quickly, lest the whole room think him an idiot and Ass’shiri taunt him for being a soft-shell. Unfortunately, all he could manage was a slightly accusatory, “You look bored.”

  “An inspired observation,” she drawled, cutting off the chatter of the Lu’shun man beside her. “And I suppose you are just the boy to liberate me from such an adverse affliction?”

  Her Tar’cil was spot on with a flawless accent, yet Jathen found his brain tumbling over itself.

  His hesitation allowed the other man to break in with a cutting tone. “Tedium, I’m certain, is something one of his standing would be well versed in.”

  “My standing?” Jathen looked at the man: blue scales, dark hair, and violet eyes with black slivers for pupils. Jathen felt a lead weight in his stomach as he realized he was face to face with not a Lu’shun but a true Tazu.

  “That’s right, moot.” The man straightened and leaned forward in his stool, close enough for Jathen to smell the alcohol on his breath. “Shove off.”

  Fury erupted in Jathen’s chest. Curling his fingers, he dug his nails into his palms. He felt the pinch of pain as he debated his chances of getting away with breaking another barstool over a Tazu’s head.

  A hand came down on his shoulder. “Ah, there you are!” the silky, sweet voice called him back from the abyss.

  Turning, Jathen was met with another pair of Lu’shun blues almost hidden behind bangs so pale they were nearly white. She had a sweet, heart-shaped face with lavender scales and high cheekbones.

  She widened her eyes. “I looked practically everywhere.”

  “E-excuse me?” Jathen stammered.

  “I’ve been looking for you,” she repeated, grasping his sleeve. “Come on now. You promised I’d have you to myself tonight.”

  “What?” She did somehow seem familiar, but despite her surety, he didn’t know her. “I think you’re mistaken. I—”

  “Oh, you are such a tease,” she chirped, latching onto his arm. “Come on. Don’t make me beg.”

  She dragged Jathen over to a couch in the quieter end of the room. He took a seat beside her as she ordered drinks from a passing server.

  “I’m sorry, Mei, err… ah, Miss,” he tried in his thickly accented Lu’shun. “But I’m not the person you were looking for.”

  “Of course not,” she said in Tar’cil, all trace of coy innocence gone. She paused to thank the tray bearer for the two glasses of sparkling wine.

  “Then why did you…?”

  She offered him one of the tall crystal flutes with a mischievous twinkle in her bright eyes. “You looked like you needed rescue.”

  “Huh?” His heart sank as he realized what she meant. He toyed with his glass, fighting a rising tide of mortification. “Yeah, right. Rescue. Thank you, I guess.”

  She giggled lightly into her lace-gloved hand. “I meant no offense, and honestly, you shouldn’t take it too hard. Didina is notoriously blunt and quite enamored with a handsome phine she’s awaiting later in the evening. Truth be told, that rude kinsman of yours will be shuffled off in short order. You did well for a first attempt.”

  Jathen flinched. “Is it that obvious?”

  “To the trained eye, yes, though I have always said there is something sweet about the nakedly honest countenance of a person unspoiled by the intrigue of romance.” She sat back, crossing her shapely legs. “I’m Ishane, by the way.”

  Jathen felt his spirits rise as he realized what a lilac beauty sat next to him. He glanced over at Ass’shiri, who raised his glass and grinned. “Jathen Cornetith Iridosmine Monortith, at your service.”

  Ishane had a very sly smile. “Are you trying to impress me now?”

  “Perhaps. Is it working?”

  “Perhaps.” She took a sip from her glass. “That is a marathon of a name, though. Must I call you by all of it?”

  “No.”

&nb
sp; “That’s a relief. So which of the four is your given name?”

  “Jathen. Though I’d think you’d recognize the ‘Monortith’ on the end as the Tazu royal house and the proper surname.”

  “You are trying to impress me.” She giggled. “Meanwhile, I’m just trying to be polite. Most humans, Clan, and Lu’shun have the surname second, but the Muilan put the family name first, while the Ki’ra put their father’s family name in front, their given name in the middle, and the mother’s at the end. It’s a fascinating mess.”

  “Huh, didn’t know that.”

  “Well, now you do. And now you know why I’m being precise about it, so there are no misunderstandings.”

  “Thanks.”

  “Do all your names mean something, or are they just there for the sake of it?”

  “Excuse me?”

  She shrugged. “I like names. They’re interesting, genealogy and the like. Don’t you have anything you enjoy, without expectation or prejudice?”

  “Yes, I do.”

  “Well, then you understand.” She ran her hands across the pale pink material of her dress. “Is it normal for a Tazu to have four names? Or is it a luxury of royalty?”

  “Actually, we can have quite a few more, regardless of rank, though they are not all to trace lineage.”

  “Then why include them?”

  “A couple of reasons,” Jathen said. “It’s believed the sound of a name can influence the personality of the person with vibrational resonance.”

  “Sounds Bree-esque.”

  “Kind of. But it’s not so much about creating sound and music to evolve the soul and raise your vibration as much as it is about giving the most positive traits possible to a new baby.”

  “They’re trying to tweak a life contract via a bombardment of positive-sounding names?”

  “That’s oversimplifying, but essentially, yeah.”

  “Interesting. I’ve heard of names having deeper meanings. Most people believe such, but never so much as to just tack them on there to manipulate personality. What do your names mean?”

  Jathen squirmed a little. “Well, the Monortith is obvious, that’s the royal line direct from Montage’s first Avatar.”

  “Like the Clan’s Rheadani imperial line and Rhean, or the royal line in Lubreean and Rosin, or the Lu’shun Belesune family.”

  “Or the Ki’ra’s Ku’esh,” he added fondly for the absent Esop.

  “What about the other names?”

  “Well, Iridosmine was my grandmother’s name, which is supposed to ‘magnify potential and bring focus to ideas,’ while Cornetith I get from my mother’s uncle. It has something to do with ‘progressing forward’ and ‘acknowledging problems and making efforts to solve them.’”

  “Sounds useful. Do all Tazu extra names come from relatives?”

  “Not always. I got those because both of them died in the big earthquake before I was born. My mother thought it respectful I carry the names.”

  “Oh?” Ishane’s eyebrows arched. “Your grandmother would have been the Monortith princess lost during the Kidwellith quake, correct?”

  “Yes.”

  “And your uncle was her brother, the heir, lost around the same time?”

  “Yes. Though I’m surprised you know that.”

  “Oh? I’m surprised by your surprise. It was an international event, made more haunting by an entire generation of Monortith rulers being killed.” She sipped her drink again. “Must be a bit of a weight for you, the memory of two heirs lost on your name.”

  “Pardon?”

  “Sorry.” She grimaced. “Beleskie’s Way might stress forming relationships in order to gain evolution, but her Aspect’s path encourages one to understand the depths of those relationships and perceptions when forming our understanding of self. Thus, I studied the phine Path for a bit before deciding to go into the mei.”

  “Does that mean you’re going to psychoanalyze me?”

  “Maybe just a little.” She winked. “At least with the name.”

  He grinned. “Cornetith was supposed to be my given name, after my uncle, but my mother gave me Jathen instead. No idea what it means.”

  “Jathen.” She tapped the side of her glass with one claw, though he assumed it was actually a fingernail. “I don’t think I’ve heard the origin of that one. Sounds human, but I’m not sure what country it’s from.”

  “Well, it’s been suggested that my mother just made it up.”

  “It rings sweetly in the mouth, though. Jathen.” She said it again, as if tasting a wine, “Jathen. It’s simple, but there is a soothing current in that simplicity. And it suits you.”

  “You are the first to think so.”

  “I highly doubt that.” She smiled. “We should at least count your mother.”

  Jathen laughed. They continued talking for quite some time, draining another two flutes of the sparkling wine each before Ishane finally rose from her seat.

  “Come,” she said, holding out her hand.

  Jathen was feeling warm and fuzzy from all the conversation and alcohol, and he had suspected where things were going, but he hesitated.

  “Shy, now?” Ishane asked. “Wasn’t this what you came here for?”

  “I don’t know what I came here for.”

  “Sometimes, Jathen Monortith, we should be content to want what is given to us. That, too, is a choice.” She waved at him. “Come.”

  Didn’t the Drannic tell me something like that? “All right.” After a glance at Ass’shiri, who was deep in conversation with three mei, Jathen slid his hand into hers and let her lead him deeper into the meison. They entered a cozy bedroom with walls covered in layers of lavender and rose silk.

  “Is this your room?” he asked.

  “No.” Her eyes glimmered in the candle light. “This is one of the rooms we use for liaisons. Most prefer a certain ambiance when making use of the mei path, and it’s better to have a neutral space to achieve this.”

  “Must be easier for the mei as well. Not to have to worry about dirty laundry on the floor and whatnot.”

  “Cute. Have a seat.”

  The only place to sit was the bed, so he did, awkwardness seeping from every pore.

  “Relax.” Coming around behind him, Ishane knelt on the bed and began to rub his shoulders. “I like you, Jathen. You have nothing to feel awkward about.”

  “You must be a Talent.” Her kneading hands were nice, more medical than sensual in seeking out his knots and kinks. “To read me so well.”

  “Emotional empathic, yes. Though not as powerful as some, I get by quite well. People aren’t so hard to understand when you take the time to study them. I haven’t known many Tazu, but I can’t imagine them to be very dissimilar.”

  “I’m not a typical Tazu. I’m a moot.”

  “A sad label for you to endure but inconsequential to me. As far as the culture and people are concerned, you are just as much a Tazu in my mind. I’m sure you could tell me about your homeland as well as any. Better, perhaps.”

  “True enough. I’ve lived in Kidwellith amid Tazu all my life. Ask me anything.”

  Her hands stopped. “Is it true,” she asked, straddling his lap, “that Tazu men only love their women from behind?”

  “Umm…” Through their clothing, he could feel the heat from between her legs pressing against his groin, making it quite difficult for him to come up with a witty or even coherent response. “I wouldn’t know.”

  “Oh, my poor dear, you are new at this, aren’t you?” She pushed her hips forward, sliding her pelvis seductively against his. “Does this position please you so far?”

  “Spirit, yes.”

  She leaned in and caught his lips with hers. Her kiss was different from the one
he’d shared with Neek, which had been over and done before he’d had time to feel anything. Ishane moved slowly, as if tasting him. Jathen mimicked her, savoring the feel of his lips and hers. He encircled her with his arms, pulling her closer. She pushed her fingers through his hair.

  But when he closed his eyes, the mystique was lost. She did not smell like a Tazu, all musk and sun, but cooler, akin to glass. The touch of her skin was all wrong as well—smooth and soft but lacking in a Tazu’s sleek grain, which was slick when stroked in one direction and subtly textured when rubbed the other.

  So Jathen opened his eyes and kept them that way.

  Afterward, he was languid and sleepy. Ishane’s blue-white hair hung loose, tickling as she leaned over him and caressed his chest. “I shall never understand such prejudice based upon physicality. You are beautiful, Jathen Monortith. Never ever let anyone tell you otherwise.”

  “Thank you. Though beautiful in your eyes or not, I’ll still never shift.” Suddenly curious, he asked, “What do Lu’shun see when a Tazu shifts? I know you view every race the same, but Tazu are distinctly different in that manner.”

  “We see dragons, of course. It’s actually quite alarming, to see one thing one moment and a tyrn the next. I’ve seen portraits of what Tazu really look like, and I have to say it must lessen the shock a bit, but still…” She wrinkled her nose, a habit which was quite cute. “All those scales! All I can think of is a large fish!”

  Jathen laughed. “You do realize you look all scaled to me, right?”

  “Really?” Arms outstretched, she looked down at her body. “How interesting. I thought since you are a moot, you’d see me as human. What color am I?”

  “Lavender.” He danced his fingers along her hip and halfway down her thigh. “With little white speckles here and there.”

  “And that’s attractive?”

  “Very.”

  “Well, good.” She kissed his nose. “I’m glad I look pretty for you, my Tazu prince.”