Light of the Outsider

by Matthew Wayne Selznick

  "It's in my way…"

  Three words rode the sharp exhalations breaking from Vadi's open mouth. "Can't… take… off…"

  Lama started to remove the key and its cord from around Vadi's neck. Vadi pushed the back of her own head against the sleeping pad. Lama gave Sot an imploring look.

  Sot was ready. He found Vadi's little gatekeeper and sucked, even as he put two fingers inside her.

  Vadi's head lifted; her body twisting against Sot's restraining hand even as she gripped his head with her left hand and slapped the sleeping pad with her right.

  Sot looked up again. Lama pulled the cord away from Vadi and deftly put it in the pocket of her shift.

  She said to Vadi, "Don't worry. It's right next to the bed."

  Vadi nodded quickly, eyes tightly closed. She tilted her head and opened her mouth, seeking. Lama kissed her.

  Sot returned his full attention to his efforts. He'd need to move on soon, both for the sake of the plan and for the benefit of his creaking branch, which was painfully pressed against the edge of the bed. He needed the warm, close sanctuary beyond Vadi's gate.

  He felt Lama standing up, so he took that as his signal to slide up the bed.

  As he did so, Vadi said to Lama, "Getting naked..?"

  Lama took her coat from a peg on the back of the door and slipped it on. “Too much essa. I need to open the valve.” She bent down and kissed her. "I'll be back."

  Sot, propped above Vadi with his mouth on her ear, let his branch tease her gate with twitching strokes. "Let's stay busy…"

  Vadi's hands roamed across his shoulders, down his back, and across his ass. Sot felt a flash of deep self-consciousness: there was so much more of him, and all of it softer, than the last time the three of them had played like this.

  She didn't seem to care. Eyes still closed, she kissed him—her tongue was small and strong and hot—and, reaching down between them, guided him through her gate.

  As her warmth engulfed him, Sot was vaguely aware of the door opening and closing.

  Lama was away.

  Vadi slid around him deliciously.

  This was a wonderful plan.

  Chapter Two

  Lama

  The silent, narrow launderer's warren was dimly lit by a few glowglobes. It was well after curfew and everyone's doors were closed.

  Lama padded to the outer door and unlatched it with care. Palace yard staff were allowed into the yard after curfew to drain the valve, so she had that ready excuse if she needed it. So much the better if no one knew she was out of their apartment at all.

  Fortunately, Vadi had always been a loud one. Maeg and Jaf and everyone else in the adjacent apartments would think Lama, Sot, and their guest were occupied with each other and in for the evening. As there were few secrets in the close quarters the launderers shared, it wouldn't take long tomorrow for the entire warren to believe it, too.

  By then, Lama and Sot would be gone.

  But first, Lama had to cross the palace yard.

  And then.

  And then.

  She checked the pockets of her shift. There was Vadi's precious key. And there, wrapped in an oiled skin, was the special square of foul-scented cloth the magicker had given Sot.

  She had everything she needed.

  Blood pounded in her skull. She gritted her teeth, closed her eyes, exhaled slowly through her nose…

  Opened her eyes

  Opened the door.

  The launderer's warren was built right up against the wall, nearly as far from the palace as could be to keep the acrid odor of detergents and solvents out of the delicate noses of the Alwardendyn and company. It still seemed a short stroll by the light of day.

  By night, it was a vast expanse with few opportunities for cover.

  Lama closed the door behind her and glanced up and over her shoulder to the top of the wall ten stride above the warren roof.

  No guards patrolled. At least, not here, now.

  She stepped away from the warren; took another step, and another. Even as a desperate tension between her shoulder blades screamed for her to turn around, to confirm that she was not (or was!) being watched… she continued on.

  Nearly lost in the pale grey reflected light from the canopy of flat clouds overhead was the unremarkable wooden door at the base of the north tower, her destination.

  No farther than any other time.

  No farther than when she delivered laundry to the palace staff waiting there, so many times in the last decade.

  So far away tonight. As far as salvation was near.

  She kept her eyes on the door, as best she could, and her focus on the soft shushing of her sandaled feet against the packed earth of the yard.

  There was nowhere to go but forward.

  She ground her teeth. She had been standing still for eight years. Standing still, or falling back.

  There was nowhere to go but forward.

  Earlier today, thinking about the walk to come, she noted the tall stack of hay bales about a third of the way between the launderers' warren and the tower. It was just ahead now.

  A beckoning black patch of shadow pooled there. She made for it.

  Not twelve stride from the shelter of darkness, Lama saw a small figure emerge from that shadow.

  Lama stopped cold with an automatic, superstitious dread she quickly suppressed. This was no nightfaien or flitething skulking around the palace yard.

  It was a child, surely.

  A little girl.

  Lama quickly crossed the space between them. It was Sepi, Tala's daughter, born two years after Lama and Sot had come to work behind the palace wall, and still too young to do much more than play with her pet twighopper and be underfoot.

  Of course, Sepi knew Lama on sight. The little girl seemed relieved to see her, even if her eyes went wide when Lama took her by her bony wrist and quickly almost dragged her back to the concealing shadow of the hay bales.

  "Sepi," Lama snapped through clenched teeth. "You know better than to be out in the yard at night. What are you doing?"

  From somewhere outside of herself, Lama worked a bleak calculus. Before the girl could answer the first question, Lama had another, with which she hoped to assign value to a very important variable.

  "Does your mother know you're not in your bed? Does anyone?"

  Sepi glanced at Lama's tight fingers wrapped around her arm, and tugged.

  Lama relaxed her grip slightly, but did not let go.

  It was very difficult to keep the rage out of her voice.

  "I'm not angry with you, Sepi."

  She would not be stopped. Not like this.

  "Why are you out in the yard after curfew, all alone?"

  Sepi seemed defiant, even if her face was flush and her eyes wet. She kept her voice down, which told Lama the little girl knew she was doing something wrong, and feared discovery by anyone else. That was good.

  "Valoo," she whispered. "He got out!"

  Her pet.

  Lama crouched down so she could look Sepi in the eyes. She maintained the grip on her tiny arm.

  "This is important, Sepi." Very important. "Did Kala say you could run around in the yard after dark and look for Valoo?"

  Sepi looked at her dirty bare feet.

  "No."

  "Did anyone tell you not to come out here?"

  "Nobody knows." Sepi raised her eyes and looked around, obviously hoping to catch a glimpse of the missing twighopper, somewhere in the dark. "I was really quiet. Mah never even woke up."

  "Sepi. Look at me, Sepi."

  She did.

  "You have to go back to bed, Sepi. Right. Now."

  Sepi shook her head violently. "I have to find Valoo!"

  That time it was not a whisper. Lama flinched and involuntarily twisted to scan the top of the wall behind her.

  No guards.

  Not yet.

  The cold anxiety that had pushed at her shoulders now crawled all over.

  She had to get to the
cover of the tower.

  Had to.

  There would be no other chance to get free of this stagnant, awful life.

  Lama took hold of Sepi's shoulders. "Do you want the guard to hear?"

  Sepi paled and shrank. "No."

  She could not allow Sepi to foul this for her.

  Lama looked into the little girl's eyes, where fear began to bloom.

  A natural reaction.

  A wise one.

  Choices flashed on the stage behind Lama's forehead:

  Her hands on the back of Sepi's head, shoving the girl's face into the thick wall of hay until she was silent and still.

  One hand holding the girl's wrists behind her back; another over her mouth and nose. Until she was silent and still.

  Lama was strong. It would only take a moment to squeeze the girl’s windpipe.

  Until she was silent and still.

  Another image. A memory: Lama's neverborn, unfairly small, and bloody, and blue, on the dusty floor of the latrine.

  Silent.

  And still.

  Lama's hands shook on Sepi's shoulders.

  There was one more option.

  She exhaled heavily.

  "Sepi. When you put out Valoo's food, doesn't he come running, no matter where he is? No matter how long it's been since you've seen him?"

  "I guess so."

  "He's never far away from his food, is he?"

  "I guess not."

  Lama nodded. "That's right. So… I'd wager that when you put out his food come tahwake tomorrow…"

  Sepi's voice carried a note of small hope. "You think he'll come running?"

  "I know I never want to be far away from my firstmeal. I bet you don't, either."

  Sepi gave this serious thought, then nodded.

  Lama slowly released Sepi's shoulders. "So will you go back to the warren and climb back into bed, and do it very quietly, and wait for Valoo to come to you, tomorrow?"

  "But what if he's cold tonight? Or gets lonely?"

  "Well, then, he'll come back before firstmeal, then, won't he? Because he expects you to be in your bed, all warm, where he can find you."

  The most convincing thing Lama could say bloomed in her head.

  "What if he's there now, looking for you?"

  That did it. Sepi took a step toward the warren. "You're right!"

  Lama's knees threatened to buckle from relief. She need not murder a child tonight.

  "Sepi. Wait."

  "But Valoo…"

  "I know. I just want to make sure you know you shouldn't tell anyone you were out here. You know that, yes?"

  Sepi nodded. "I know." She looked over her shoulder and back at Lama. "But… why are you in the yard, Lama?"

  "Don't worry about that, Sepi. Just remember: your mah, and the guards, and Warden Tupu… they'd be very angry if they found out you broke curfew."

  "But you are, too."

  Despair threatened. The little girl was two stride away. If need be, Lama could be on her quickly. With luck, she could snap her neck before Sepi had a chance to scream.

  Assuming her earlier outburst hadn't already caused someone to stir, if not on the wall, then in one of the yard warrens, or even in the palace itself.

  "I'm going to tell you a secret, Sepi."

  Sepi's mouth opened and her eyes got big.

  Lama continued. "A very powerful magicker asked me to do something very important. Do you know what magickers can do?"

  Sepi nodded. She'd undoubtedly heard the same stories Kug had told Lama when she was a little girl.

  "Scary things."

  "Oh, yes. Very scary things." Lama rolled her eyes to the sky. "Did you know he's watching me right now to make sure I do a good job?"

  "He is?"

  "From far, far away. With magic! And do you know what he'll do if anyone finds out about this?"

  Sepi shook her head.

  "I don't either, Sepi," Lama intoned. "But you can guess, can't you? You know the story of the Gundi-Mag of the East, don't you? Remember what happened to that little girl?"

  Sepi nodded slowly. Her staring gaze never strayed from Lama.

  "So you and I," Lama said, "we don't want anyone to know we were out here. Or…"

  Sepi bit her lip.

  "I won't tell anyone, Lama."

  Lama made a show of gratitude: a big sigh of relief; clasping her hands at her breast.

  "Thank you, Sepi. Now hurry, but be sneaky! Get back to bed!"

  Sepi ran.

  Lama wanted to curse. How long had that taken? How long had she been gone, herself? Shaper knew Sot couldn't last forever, especially not with Vadi. How long before Vadi got bored of his pounding and became restless for her?

  She made out Sepi opening the warren door and slipping inside. What if Tupu caught her? Would she have the sense to lie and say she'd just been to the latrine?

  Time bled.

  Lama broke from her shadowy cover and ran for the servants' door at the base of the tower.

  There was nowhere else left to go.

  Sot

  Vadi seemed to be enjoying herself.

  Sot was as well, of course. He could barely remember the last time he and Lama had stirred the stick. It wasn't smart to think about it too deeply, either. Thinking of his heartfast was sure to distract from the way Vadi felt, the way she moved, the little sounds—and not so little sounds—she made.

  Flesh to flesh, she'd always been so different from Lama.

  Vadi gave herself over to whatever you wanted to do. She wasn't exactly passive, but once things got to a certain point, as Sot was reminded tonight, you could expect to do most of the work and for Vadi to… experience it.

  Not that Sot didn't find that exciting. Slicksliding Vadi made him feel like he finally had dominion over something. Someone.

  With Lama… especially when they'd been younger, before the yard, before their neverborn… it was more of a cooperative effort. Or, better put, an almost confrontive effort.

  When Sot pushed, Lama pushed back. Lama held on, and often directed.

  Lama looked you in the eyes, and there was always a challenge there. Who would lose themselves first? Could Sot last long enough to give her the blind fire before he succumbed himself?

  Sometimes, the flash would burn them both, together.

  They'd laugh around their gasps, then, surprised and glad for the mutual victory. The stalemate.

  Sot looked down at Vadi, whose head was turned to one side. Whose eyes were closed. Whose arms lay on the bed; fingers dug into the sleeping pad as Sot hammered at her gate.

  She was being done to. Not with.

  That was fine. Her willfully incoherent state—helped along, no doubt, by the essa they'd poured down her throat—served the plan.

  It was about time Vadi did something to help them. This would do.

  Sot could feel the first sparks of the blind fire. He slowed his pace and focused his vision on the flesh of Vadi's inner forearm, which was safely less exciting than the subtle bounce of her breasts, or the trickle of sweat along her ribcage.

  He had to last as long as he could. Ideally, until Lama returned with her secret prize.

  Sot knew Vadi would be shocked, and upset. She'd see reason… especially when they offered her a share of Ulthus' bounty.

  If tokens would not win her to their cause, Sot and Lama knew their old friend was wracked with guilt over her good fortune, and would likely go to great lengths to find balance.

  It helped, as they'd suspected and tonight confirmed, that Vadi had few, or no, friends on the palace staff. It seemed she and her mother were treated like the Shadow District trash they were. She had little loyalty to the Alwardendyn.

  Tonight, Sot and Lama would give her an opportunity to prove it.

  Vadi threw her head from side to side. She smiled. Sot had lost track of the number of times she sighed, "I've missed you two… so… much…"

  "You… too… Vadi," Sot grunted out.

  When this nigh
t had passed, she'd just have to miss them again, and forever. Once they'd delivered the prize to Ulthus, Sot would be free of the launderers' warren, free of the palace yard, free of the easy scorn and casual disdain of the palace guard.

  Free of disappointment.

  Powerlessness.

  Free of Lama.

  Sot's mind drifted to muse on how he would live out his days. He'd have to flee far from Aenikantag; perhaps all the way to Kwaanantag; perhaps to some village in a distant mountain valley.

  It didn't matter where he was. His wealth would bring him prestige.

  Respect.

  The injustices of the past decade marched across the inside of his forehead even as he looked down Vadi's body and watched his branch pierce her gate again and again, faster, more and more insistently.

  She put a hand on his chest. Her face contorted.

  "Sot! Too rough…"

  Hadn't it been rough on him? Her broken promises? The pledges she'd made with no power to fulfill..?

  "Sot!"

  He slowed his pace.

  "Sorry… sorry…"

  It was too late. The indulgent spell of ecstatic oblivion in which Vadi had willfully submerged evaporated in the heat of Sot's angry enthusiasm.

  She still accepted Sot's more gentle motion, but there was no denying Vadi was back in her skull.

  She frowned and looked past Sot, toward the door.

  "Lama's been gone a long time."

  Sot dipped his head to kiss Vadi's neck and mutter, "Has she?" into her ear.

  She made an appreciative noise to reward his attentions, but added, "Doesn't it seem so?"

  "Maybe she had to wait for someone else to finish," Sot said. "Let's make the most of things while we wait, eh?"

  He could feel her arms moving on the bed.

  "Sot."

  He tried adjusting his angle of approach. Didn't she like when he moved just… so? He tried to remember.

  "Sot… Sot, wait."

  Before he could stop her, or even fully work out how to do so without seeming suspicious, she had squeezed him out and rolled from under him.

  Vadi leaned over the edge of the bed.

  She sat back up.

  "Sot, my key! I can't find my key!"

  Chapter Three

  Lama

  Vadi's pilfered key stuck a little when Lama inserted it in the lock of the servant entrance door, but at least the latches were well oiled and silent when they finally worked. She stepped through and closed the door behind her.