by Marie Brown
her peace of mind. Had Kama gotten so thin through a similar situation, of not having any food around? But no, Kama lived at a school, where presumably there was plenty of food available. Maybe Callie liked skinny women. Maybe Kama had just grown up, and shed her puppy fat.
Maybe Lorrine better just quit thinking about Kama, and get downstairs. She had at least one meal coming, so she should go eat it, and worry about the rest of life later.
The inn served a good breakfast. Lorrine ate it with the weight of her pack slumped against her foot, a constant reminder that she had no future, and no hope. But she did have eggs and pancakes, so she focused on the food, shutting the rest of the world out. Her hair, clean now and drying slowly, formed a protective curtain at first, keeping the world away. But then it tried to get in the berry syrup, so she tied her hair back and tried again.
When Lorrine ran out of food, she thanked the innkeeper and asked for directions to the nearest marketplace. After all, she'd been away a long time, and had never been in the Library District much at all.
The streets outside were nearly empty. The sun floated a good two hands above the horizon, but still, the day was young, and most people weren't even out yet. The city squeezed at Lorrine, reminding her that she was an outsider here. Yes, true, she had indeed lived here for over four years. But without Kama, it just seemed a big unfriendly lump of stone.
The marketplace sprawled nearby. Lorrine found it easily, where it grew out of the permanent stone shops and spilled out to cover an open square, centered around a public fountain. She noted even from a distance that the brightly colored tilework on the fountain looked really gorgeous, then plunged into the marketplace, where the activity level certainly did not reflect the emptiness of the rest of the city. Here vendors were in full swing, selling their wares to other early risers, housewives and cooks and butlers, travelers and working folk picking up a bit of food to take with them to whatever their daily labors entailed.
One good thing about her adventures with Derfek: Lorrine had finally learned how to bargain. Her mother had always given in too soon, and her father had that damned superior air that made it seem bargaining was beneath him. But Derfek, now, he'd put on quite a dramatic show when it came to haggling, and Lorrine had learned a lot from him. She put her skills to good use and emerged from the marketplace with enough food to carry her all the way back to the temple, if she rationed herself carefully.
Then she had to ask for directions to the northwest gate. That rankled a bit, but she tried not to let it. After all, Eirian had a rather complex layout, comprised of assorted circles and other geometric designs shaped into connecting districts, so one wouldn't necessarily reach one's destination easily by guessing. And even though she knew full well which way northwest lay, that hardly meant she'd reach the gate any time before next week without a bit of guidance.
So Lorrine asked, and humbly set off in a counterintuitive direction, due east. The morning sun shone at her cheerfully.
She hadn't made it too far before she spotted a building that tugged at her soul. A church? Really? She'd never been in a church before, not counting her time in Biao Tanu's temple. She took a few steps towards it, hesitated. What business had she in a church?
But then, why hurry? She might as well investigate the thing. After all, she was on her way to a temple. Surely a bit of overt religion wouldn't hurt her.
So Lorrine shrugged, and stepped inside the distinctively religious building. Inside, she saw a cloth-draped table with probably three or four dozen religious artifacts on it. What. . . ?
Looking around the rest of the building, Lorrine figured out the artifacts very quickly. No less than nine altars stood around the walls of the building, three to a wall. Each was plain, simple, very generic. Uncarved, although polished, wood, with slender white candles, each draped with a simple, unadorned white cloth. Two people were using the facilities. One knelt quietly before the altar, head bowed, under the gaze of a statue with horns. The other stood, arms spread wide and head thrown back, humming a rapturous tune. His altar held a glowing amber egg.
Lorrine looked over the table, wondering what the symbol for her goddess was. Would it even be here, whatever "it" might be? She knew so little about religion. . .
At the far left corner, way back, out of the main collection of artifacts, something caught and held Lorrine's eye. A natural lump of white quartz, solid and unassuming, sat in between a golden statue of a bird with arched wings and a meditating woman carved of ebony, with a serene face and huge breasts. She reached out and touched the quartz. It lit from within with a soft, white glow, just like the altar of Biao Tanu's temple. That must be it.
She picked up the lump of rock, dusted it off with her shirt, and deposited it on the nearest altar, shrugging out of her pack and leaning it up against the altar's base. Then she knelt, just like she'd done when she'd made her deal with the goddess, and gazed at the soothing white glow.
She didn't know any prayers, but she didn't need any. She felt the glow entering her heart and soul, easing the pain that she'd ignored so fiercely, making her feel like maybe things would work out somehow. Maybe losing Kama again didn't constitute the end of the world.
She never knew how long she knelt there, basking in the gentle glow of her goddess. When she finally stood up, her legs were numb, which told her she'd been there quite some time. But it didn't matter. Nothing mattered. The only thing of any importance at all was the gentle feeling of peace Lorrine felt inside.
She returned the lump of white quartz to the table, wondering how long it had sat there unheeded among the relics of more popular deities. The light faded when she sat it down, and she shouldered her pack once again and left the calm church behind.
Outside, the day rolled along in full swing. It looked a bit past midday, which rather made life awkward. As Lorrine progressed through the streets on her odd route to the northwest gate, she passed through a segment of town where several competing eating establishments filled the air with delicious smells. And, of course, she'd spent all her money. Stoically, Lorrine set her mind on her route, rather than dwelling on the fabulous smells and the complaints of her stomach.
She made it to the northwest gate by late afternoon. Not entirely the greatest time to set off on a journey, but what could she do? The inn she'd stayed at serviced the dock district, not the Southern Trade Road. And a very large city sat in between the docks and the land trade routes.
Lorrine lost most of the calm she'd received from her goddess as she stepped through the gates, finalizing her loss. Kama remained safely back there in the city, snug in the arms of another woman, with a steady job and a comfortable place to live. Her future was assured. And not one bit of it contained Lorrine.
But what could she do? She couldn't spend the rest of her life crying, no matter how appealing that sounded at this moment. Lorrine set her feet to the road, and her eyes to the shoulder, searching for her turn-off. Because of course the magically paved trade route didn't run where she needed it to. Why would it? That would make life too easy, and clearly she'd done something to piss off the God of Easy Living, or whatever. No easy, peaceful, happy life for Lorrine.
Her earlier adventure with those damned shadow-things had done one thing for Lorrine. It had gotten her into simply amazing shape. She'd always been wiry and scrawny, part of why she'd admired Kama's soft curves so much, but now her legs were strong walking machines. They carried her at a good, steady pace, without even hurting or anything. She'd initially regretted the loss of her horse. But not anymore. She rather enjoyed the feeling of her legs working, carrying her along past the farmland and the distant manors, palaces, and occasional defensive strongholds. It felt good. The physical activity brought her more peace, as her distressed thoughts eased into the steady motion and the crunching sound her boots made on the dirt of the road she followed.
With no money and no other person to care for, Lorrine pushed onward through the dinner hour and nearly to full dark. She stopped when the dusk de
epened to the point that she couldn't tell for sure where the road lay. She found herself a spot to spread her blanket under a tree, ate some jerky, took off her boots, and laid down.
Finding sleep wasn't as easy as it should be, after hours of sustained effort. Her brain twitched and wiggled, right back onto the subject she'd tried to avoid all day.
Oh, Kama. . .
Callie
Tears all but blinded Kama as she stumbled down the stairs of the old Eldritch. Then she halted, suddenly caught by the memory of how people reacted to the sight of a woman in tears. Not good. So she sniffled, and rubbed her eyes, and sorted out her hair, putting on the calm face she used when teaching. Then she progressed in a much more seemly fashion out of the Eldritch and into the brisk evening air.
Blast. Perhaps she should have thought more clearly before escorting Lorrine to the inn. If she had, she would have brought something warm to wear against the chill, perhaps a cardigan. But of course, Lorrine had clouded her judgment again, without even trying.
So Kama ignored the chill as much as she could, although she felt very aware of her nipples standing upright in the cold. How she wished Lorrine had touched them! Her hands were so strong, so vibrant and alive, they would have felt