I wake up when the curtains are pulled aside, and the morning light slaps me in the face. It’s Caedi and she’s smiling at me.

She walks to the bed and holds a hand over my belly, not touching me, and I’m glad there’s no morning wood. I’m feeling very self-conscious since yesterday and what happened with Hypa. I was so worried I had trouble sleeping. It happens to me sometimes, even when, you know, I don't orgasm in front of my doctor. Or on her. I can't think about that now.

Anyway, sometimes I can’t turn my brain off and the problems and plans for tomorrow won’t let me rest. Good old run-of-the-mill meditation helped some, but it feels like I was up most of the night.

Caedi says, “I think your energies are flowing a bit better. Hypa thought that might be the case. She told me that you were allowed out of bed today, so long as you promise not to exert yourself. She told me to say, ‘Don't get carried away,” and said you’d know what was meant.”

I nod, hoping I’m not blushing hard enough to give her a clue.

“Your clothes have been repaired and cleaned,” Caedi says to me. “They are in the drawer there.” She points to the modest chest by the wall. She smiles again and then leaves.

My head swims a little when I stand but it’s not too bad and I feel fine soon after.

The knot in my chi has eased a bit since last night. I have a suspicion and when I check my logs, sure enough, it got better at the same time as the orgasm while using Erota.

Do I tell Hypa?

I probably should, right? She’s my doctor.

I don’t feel good about it though. It feels weird. Yesterday feels weird. Not wrong, exactly? I mean, consent was given and not in any subtle way. Hell, for all I know, in this world, group mutual masturbation like that happens in the town square every Tuesday night.

How would I know?

 

I’ll go ask Wendy what she thinks I should do. Of course, I know what she’ll say. She’ll tell me to tell Hypa and offer to go with me when I do. Still, I think it’s a really good idea to tell Wendy first because I’ve been wrong before and it’s always best not to get stuff wrong involving any level of intimacy if you can help it. I mean, it’s not like it’s difficult to check, right?

Only, she’s not in the house.

I find a living area comfortable enough for five or six visitors, a kitchen with a table with seating for four, and a space I’m pretty sure is an operating room. It’s got one of those elevated tables and there’s lots of built-in cabinets and drawers. I figure that’s where I probably began my visit. There are stairs down to a cellar, which I don’t explore, and a short hallway with a series of doors, the first of which is the room I’ve been using. My guess is that the others are Hypa’s and Caedi’s bedrooms, with the other two being more spare rooms for guests or patients. Maybe a bathroom? I wouldn’t know. I’ve been using a bed pan. Which is awful. I don’t try to open any of the doors or call out. I don’t want to bother anybody or intrude. Hypa could be in one of those reattaching an arm or something. Best to be quiet.

I catch movement through a window while I’m retracing my steps through the living room and see Wendy outside practicing her forms.

My breath catches. She’s just so beautiful. Her honey hair shines gold in the morning light, her face is pink with exertion, her expression stern with concentration. Her tunic comes down to her mid-thigh and, true to her word, she’s abandoned pants. Her shapely legs and feet are bare. I do see a flash of underwear when she does a high kick, though.

You’d think I’d find her tininess odd. We’ve only been gnomes for less than three days, but she seems the same to me, even though I know she’s not. The world seems bigger. Taller. More vast. It feels new and just like it always has at the same time. My life is weird.

I join her outside and together, without a word, we settle into a slower, easier set of forms like Tai chi on Quaaludes.

“Good morning,” says Wendy.

I say, “Morning.”

“Sleep well?”

“Nope.”

“Me either,” Wendy says. “Mark, what did we do?”

I shake my head. “Not sure,” I tell her. “But whatever it was loosened my knot. It’s not gone but it’s better than it was. A little.”

“Because of… that?”

“Yep. I got a notification when it happened. That, while using Erota, eased the knot,” I tell her.

“Did you tell Hypa?”

“No,” I say. “But I’ve only seen Caedi. She told me I could get up.”

“Yeah, she told me,” says Wendy. She stops after a series of slow punches and frowns at me. “Shouldn’t we tell her? Hypa, I mean?”

“I’m really worried she’ll just think that I’m angling for another ‘blessing.’ I am a sex-crazed dude, after all.” After I say it, I’m wait for her to laugh, to tell me I’m being silly.

She doesn’t. She says, “She’ll notice next time she examines you though, right? Maybe tell her then. Or pretend you didn’t know and haven’t looked at your notifications.”

I don’t know how that makes me feel. It’s dishonest, isn’t it? I mean, that’s not what happened, but it is an awkward subject and most people would understand. This sucks. I don’t want to manipulate Hypa even a little. She doesn’t deserve that, but maybe I’m making a bigger deal than it is.

“We’ll see how it goes,” I say.

“Good,” says Wendy. “Mark, we don’t have any way to pay them. We should do some chores or something, just so long as you don’t strain yourself.”

“Let’s do that,” I say.

“Did you have breakfast?”

“No.”

Wendy points to a covered basket by the door. “I brought out some things they offered. Hypa said she’d be away for the morning making a housecall. Caedi is in her room studying.”

“Okay.”

Inside the basket is some bread and cheese. I sit and eat and watch my woman flow back into her routines, putting her body through its paces. It’s so weird. Three days in this world, but I feel like I’ve watched her train like this for years. I know it’s the implanted backstory that gives us our abilities and stuff, but it’s a really odd feeling. Real and not at the same time.

Wendy catches me staring. She stops, puts her hands on her hips, and says, “What?”

I smile, swallow, and say, “I love you.”

Wendy blushes and goes back to work, muttering, “Dufus.”

 

 

When I finish eating, I rejoin Wendy and put myself through some of the more moderate katas.

I say, “Hey, find out anything more about our order?”

Wendy says, “A bit.” She slowed down to join me. “Like I said before, they generally partnered up and traveled around doing good. It was traditional to get married first as a kind of graduation ceremony at the end of training and then, you know, go out. They were healers and helpers. Keepers and restorers of order.”

I grin and say, “Is this your way of asking me to marry you?” My heart is hammering in my chest.

“No,” Wendy laughs. Is she blushing?

“Not good enough for you, am I?”

Wendy stops and puts her hands on her hips. “What are you doing right now?” she says.

“What?”

“What are you up to? Picking a fight?” She’s grinning. “You’re a bit small for that.”

“You’re tinier than I am!”

“By two inches maybe,” says Wendy. “You keep teasing me and see where it gets you.”

“It’s true though. I’m not good enough for you,” I say. “And we’re short.”

Wendy resumes her exercises. “For all you know, we’re the tallest Gnomes on this planet and I’ll decide who’s good enough for me, thank you very much.”

“Right.”

“Even if I am settling, for you, that’s for me to choose,” she says and snickers.

“You win,” I say.

“And you’re feeling better.”

“I am,” I say and realize it’s true. Maybe I should change the subject. I say, “So, we’re reconstituting an order of monks dedicated to helping people and bringing healing and justice to the world.”

“Yep.”

“Anything more about their powers?”

“Nope. Just the Erota stuff.”

“Which only works when there’s love?”

“Yeah. If you didn’t love me and I didn’t love you, for real, the power would cut off. You know, it’s really nice to know for sure. How many people get that assurance? I mean, I believed you every time you told me, but now there’s proof.”

“Same,” I say. “And we just get that one point? No matter how deeply we love?”

Wendy nods and says, “Two people that love each other get you one point.”

“I figured.”

“Why’s that?”

“I couldn’t love you more, I don’t think.” I mean every word.

“Aw.” Wendy stops and kisses me, holding my head between her hands.

“Why don’t we then?” I say and my heart’s beating so hard it might knock me down.

“Why don’t we what?”

“Get married?”

“What?”

“The order says we should—.”

But she’s kissing me again, and this time she’s not being cute or playful. If I wasn’t recovering from an injury, I’d be in the grass and clothes would be flying off.

She pauses to look at me. I’ve never seen her eyes so full of light. “Do you mean that?” she says.

“It’s a terrible idea,” I say. “I mean, we’re at the beginning of our story. Everybody knows when the marriage happens at the beginning that they’re watching a tragedy.”

“We’ve been together two years.”

“Yeah, but we’ve been here three days. And we’re in a new place, just starting out. Getting married, if this was a movie or something, would be to taunt the Gods of Story to fuck with us.”

“Good thing we’re not in a movie.”

“We are not.”

“Do you want to?”

“Hypa’s a priestess, right? Of Love? I bet she can do it and if we’re going to be this Order of the Open Heart, which sounds more like a group of cardiologists if you ask me, then we should do it right.”

Wendy kisses me again. “Oh, I am so going to marry you.”

"When?"

"Now."

“What? We should wait until I’m better.”

“Nope.”

“I wouldn’t want to disappoint on our wedding night. There should be, like, a honeymoon or something right? I mean—.”

“Shut up. Nope.”

“But—.”

“Nope. This is all your fault. You brought it up.”

“It was in the journal—.”

“I said shut up. Disappoint me? Never happen. New world, new rules. We’ll talk to Hypa about it later tonight.”

“But—.”

“Hush, fool. I have spoken.”

“Yes, dear.”