Vesija decided to ply his trade as a physician, which left me alone in our bedroom for most of the lengthening days. I couldn't fault him for it with good conscience because, his work was what enabled him to research the solution to my situation. Nonetheless, without any connection to this foreign capitol, I was practically trapped, even though I remained free to make excursions into the untouched wilderness just over the caldera hills.

Mirra volunteered to show me the sights, but she had an actual job, and couldn't babysit me for days on end. To make the matter worse, after a week she coaxed Orti into paying his relatives an extended visit, leaving the house solely to me and Vesija. While I was used to solitude in foreign locales, this time the lingering threat of a pathological cataclysm forbade me from just ignoring the world outside my skull.

Hitunna, in spite of its ambient moisture, did have a well-stocked public library. Though the literature wasn't quite to my preference, there was enough suitably frivolous fiction to help to broaden my Iwunish vocabulary. For the spoken dialect, I had the relaxed discussions at water pipe dens, where the prolonged stupor helped in passing the time. The substance use did wreak havoc on my vigour, which I needed to compensate for with long walks across the groaning streets of Hitunna.

"As I said, you absolutely must attend", insisted the middle-aged woman. She had accosted me at the busy overpass, which stretched from near Mirra's house to the town centre. With her full gown, wide hat and luxurious yet subdued makeup, she appeared significantly more Jaan than I did in my pragmatic clothes and Iwunian coiffure.

No matter how much we needed to remain inconspicuous, Vesija's arrival with a rather pretentious companion in tow hadn't been missed.

Hitunna, for all its soaked brutishness, had a high society. Of a sort, at least; a pale reflection of the already watered-down 'cream' of Tankai. Along with a hunting club for aspiring gentry, the women of wealthy Jaanified families held a weekly literary salon. One might assume such gatherings were the hotbed for seditious thought, but supposedly they were quite the opposite: these ladies were Jaanophiles of the most obdurate sort. That was one reason I had avoided them.

"Really, miss", I said, desperately suppressing my accent. "You have mistaken the person."

"No, no. You must be the dame Nerutaara." Her own bizarre mode of articulation combined the posh emphasis of old fashioned Jaanish and the distinct sibilance of the regional accent. She leaned towards me by bending herself stiffly at the waist. "I know you are in Hitunna incognito, so it is presumptuous of me to bother you thus. Yet we absolutely can't squander this opportunity! Please, you must attend our next meeting..." She glanced at the Pylon. "At this hour, a week from now at Tineng Residence."

Clearly any cover I had left had dissolved. A secret like that didn't just go back into the proverbial bottle, and this stranger wouldn't let me go until I acceded.

"Alright, I shall see if I have the time."

The woman smiled terribly pleased. "That is all I ask."

As the result of my soporific activities, I tended to be asleep before Vesija returned from his work. That particular craving, which I couldn't sate alone, had burgeoned so that I decided to cook a late dinner for both of us. Nothing too hefty for a late meal or too difficult for my skills; just an excuse to imbibe the bottle of proper Hitunnan shuhdi I had splurged on.

The opening of the front door interrupted me, as I desperately attempted to scrub burned residue off the pan.

"Vesija? Come here!"

"Where are you?"

"In the kitchen!"

Heavy footstep hurried up the circling stairs. Vesija burst into the kitchen, still wearing his suitcoat and shoes. I left the pan to its tainted misery and turned to smile at the man. For the occasion, my only garment as the large apron tied tightly under my chest.

"Oh." Vesija paused at the door. "You are still awake."

"Indeed, I am. Not just that, I also made an attempt at a bit of an evening meal, even though you must have already eaten dinner."

"Right. I guess I can eat a little more before going to sleep."

"Wait..." I fetched the shuhdi and sauntered to Vesija. "I had something else than sleep in mind for tonight."

He glanced at the bottle. "We shouldn't ingurgitate Orti's best liquors."

"I bought this myself!"

"Ah. Sorry." He yawned theatrically, all too obvious with the hope of infecting me with his fatigue. "Nevertheless, we really shouldn't."

"Why? During the last weeks, we have been together barely enough to share a pair of words! Vesija... I know you want to work, but I can't do anything usefu––"

"And there is no need for you to. We don't need money, especially now that we can stay here."

"Then how long are we going to stay here?" I wanted to ask him about the work against the rebels, but stopped myself from reopening that battlefront.

"I don't know. But there is no sign that we are in danger in Hitunna."

Up until I burst into a mush of screaming tumours on the eve of a continental war, of course. Though the mental image was appalling, I couldn't hate Vesija. I needed him, the hold of those wide shoulders, now almost healed. A local 'witch' ––what the Iwunians called their archaeotechnicians specialising in medicine–– had performed the operation to re-set Vesija's bones. According to her, the tissue in his shoulder had healed awry, but at least it had healed before untimely exsanguination.

"Well then." I placed the bottle on a counter and pressed into the man. "We don't have to drink anything. What I've planned is much more tactile sober anyhow." My hand slid across his suit down to the trousers. "Pressure of these weeks must ache for release."

"Neru... I don't think I'm able to perform this evening."

I lifted my face to pout at him, though the expression threatened to twist into an ugly frown.

"Alright", he conceded, as he wrapped his arms around my half-naked waist. "I'm sure some nestling will rouse the required warmth in me."

With a grin, I said: "Let's go then."

"Should we not eat first?"

"Ah, it's nothing special. The wafers can wait until tomorrow."

I dragged the man after me, which allowed me to to reach the stairs before him. Vesija hadn't previously been hard to entice, but this time I saw it necessary to add ample swing to my bare-bottomed steps.

The sound-sensitive glowbottles activated at our arrival to the room, bathing the walls in ruby luminescence. Our bed awaited ready with sheets neatly folded. The man couldn't stop yawning, so I got on with undressing him, lest he reconsider staying awake.

"You know..." I murmured, as the shirt slipped off the contours of the muscular arm. "At this point, I am needy enough to agree to almost anything. We can do whatever you want."

"Could we then just lay on the bed and let me hold you?"

"You'll fall asleep."

"No, no." He unlatched my apron and pulled it off me. "You are very beautiful."

I looked at him askance.

"Sorry..." he said. "My brain fails to form proper compliments at the moment."

I sighed. "We can just go to sleep."

"No, there's no need of that. I wouldn't be much a man, if I gave up the opportunity to fondle..." His hand pressed into my flesh. "...a fruit such as this."

We lay on the self-warmed bed with the man behind me. His limbs and fingers worked with satisfactory hunger for my body; I certainly was re-enkindled. He clutched my hair and brought his breath close to my scalp.

"You smell wonderful. Did you use a perfume? One of Mirra's?"

"No. Do I really smell like I have some fragrance on me?"

"I assumed you'd only use a hint, considering my nose." He breathed in deep. "I don't think your scent has ever been more tantalising..."

I ground my posterior against. "Savour it then, so we can get continue on to––"

The ravenous hands ceased their movement.

"Vesija?"

His arm remained limp on me. I turned to see a relaxed half-yawn frozen on the man's face. He didn't react, and instead wheezed out the tentative chords of snoring.

Any anger would have been for a good reason. But if he could fall asleep in midst of lovemaking, Vesija had to be enervated. At least he had tried to comply to my needy wishes.

Though I remained thoroughly worked up, I blew a silent whistle to shut the glowbottles off and pulled the blanket on us. There'd be no restful sleep for me that night.

In the all-encompassing warmth, a fretful lassitude descended on me. I dare not move, because I didn't want Vesija to stir from his undoubtedly deserved rest. The blanket had weight as if pushed down my the mass of the darkness. It trapped my body, but if I had fought back, I'd surely wake up. Better to let me be taken by the dream. Dawn would come faster that way, if I gave in.

A draft disturbed my face, yet the wind lacked the chilly bite one would have expected, as the blanket compressed me against the mattress.

My name was murmured by the sultry wind. That blew my eyes open. On my frame sprawled a ragged shadow, flickering like flames. Through the wilful certainty in dreams, I knew the apparition to be my Iwunian. From the unstable blackness, his arm reached to hold me. His touch lacked the unnecessary fretful gentleness of his usual self. Another hand worked between us. He pressed into me, and our bodies melded in a manner I thought unimaginable. Deep inside me, the choir of nerves sang in an unbearably tender crescendo.

A long gasp was the only comment I might make. My own arms appeared from the dark, and I wrapped the monstrous bulk in a frenzied embrace.

The eidolon continued its assault with no regard for me, yet that vigour was in itself all I craved. This was no muffled surreal experience, which would slip of my memory right after awakening. Every lightning foray into the fortress impregnable branded the surface of my mind like a first kiss.

At a particularly intense moment of contact, I yelped. "You–– Ah... Brute!"

"Shut your mouth", the shade growled. "You have enough holes open already."

Laughter burst from my mouth. "Yes!" Though my lungs struggled to keep up, I managed to utter with surprising clarity: "I'm only a chalice to pour your ardour in."

He drove me into a release. With that came a distant sense of wrongness, a fading of certainty. My spirit was wrenched away.

Faint glow forced past my eyelids. Before I knew the reason, my hand sought my crotch. The slimy discovery jerked me awake. Such a viscerally torrid dream shouldn't have happened after the long gone cusp of adulthood.

Unmistakable dawn light filled the bedroom. Vesija remained contently asleep, so I used the opportunity to carefully flee to the bathroom. Once done, I skulked back to the bed to clean the rest of the mortifying happenstance. Fortunately my climaxes left little physical proof.

The man stirred in the typical manner of apex predators, startling me. His huge chest filled with a deep yawn, and he stretched his limbs.

"Good morning", I said with the rag behind my back.

"Morn––" His eyes opened and he pulled the blanket off him. It turned out I hadn't been the only one with intense dreams, though the signs of his phantasmal pleasures was much more evident. As amusing as that was, our energies would have been better spent on each other, awake the night before.

"I shall fetch you a rag", I said, smirking.

"Do so. Thank you."

Once that was done, I descended to warm up the forlorn evening meal. Vesija followed a moment later.

He placed his hands on my shoulders and sniffed the air. "Smells delicious."

"Thank you."

"Neru. I apologise for yestereve. I must have fallen asleep."

"Yes, you did. But it's fine. Did you sleep well?"

He remained in thought for a noticeable pause. "I had some unpleasant dreams."

"Oh. What they were about?"

"Ah. Personal mental flotsam. Nothing interesting to anyone else, just like other people's dreams tend to be."

I flipped the sizzling wafer. "Not in my opinion. Even if they lack in coherence, dreams do tell of one's inner hiccups and peculiarities." A mischievous smile pursed my lips. "Speaking of... A nightmare visited me last night."

The thick fingers massaged the back of my neck. "That's awful."

"Quite the contrary. This one was quite dashing. Are you jealous yet?"

"For a bad dream?"

"Keep going..." I leaned my shoulders on his near-divine administrations. "No, I meant envious of it. The nightmare."

"I think you've lost me."

"It took the form of a large... strong... and rapacious man. Understand yet?"

"No. Were you mugged in a dream?"

I snorted. "Let me put it in terms you can't misunderstand. It ravished me. And I very much enjoyed the process."

It seemed like a silly anecdote, but Vesija's fingers stopped.

"'Ravished?'" He sounded genuinely shocked.

"It was just a dream, you noddy. Beside, that dream-man was very much like the real man of my dreams. Best part was that I was wholly female, at least to the extend I could imagine." I ladled the wafers on a plate. "The breakfast is as ready as I might make it."

Vesija let go off me. "Then let's eat."

We sat at the table with hot herbal infusion and relatively fresh gnat-wafers in front of us, but Vesija still appeared disquieted.

"When shall you have a day off?"

He perked at the question. "I can't say. Soon, perhaps. But I find it hard to relax, when any physician's work remains to be done." He chuckled. "Maybe that is another reason why I prefer to roam the empty steppe."

"Just keep your own well-being in mind. If not for your own sake, then mine."

His smile couldn't wipe away the apparent fatigue.

Once the chirurgeon had gone, my thoughts slipped towards a whole sea of despondence. I needed more to my life than waiting for Vesija days on end. Perhaps that salon might be exactly the thing to dust off the cobwebs of my brain. Additionally, meeting of local notables might yield useful information on the rebels. Going behind Vesija's back wasn't necessarily proper, but he hadn't been forward on what he was doing to stop his compatriots. Having secrets of my own was only fair, even if mine were just idle gossip.

The rail crawler stopped to hang beside a respectable approximation of a Jaan townhouse, with its bulbous middle section and modular, canopy-roofed, towers. The emanating stately atmosphere made me self-conscious of the threadbare state of my sunset gown. However, one would have needed Jaan eyes to see the scruffiness of the fabric. I could only hope the local level of Jaanishness stopped up short of haughty consanguinity.

The grand main door opened before me, either overly welcoming due to the ongoing salon, or somehow it had gained my scent. The latter possibility did vex me, because smell-trackers weren't something I had prepared for; the perfumes potent enough to deceive sniffers were in terribly vulgar taste.

Nobody waited me at the three stairs that twisted away from the fluffy decor of the foyer, leaving me stranded in this palace of frontier opulence. Roaming the corridors presumably wasn't what my hosts expected from an urbane lady, so I remained put. Somebody should have noticed the front door open. Perhaps I was early.

Just as I had eased into this despondent mood, the door startled me with its thud and clasp. My frustration deflated into boredom, which eventually blazed into futile anger that was however quick to sizzle.

My ears perked to the sound of sharp footsteps approaching from a corridor above. The woman who had snared me hurried down the stairs. Her billowy gown was admittedly elegant if a smidgen out-mode, but the long-sleeved blouse without cleavage struck as significantly less outre than I had expected. I must have been overdressed, or maybe underdressed, for the occasion.

"Dame Nerutaara!" the woman hurried to hug me. I only stood stiffly to allow the familiar welcome. She withdrew and smiled at me. "Welcome to my home."

"Thank you. Eh, what did you say your name was? Tineng is presumably your clan name."

"A clan name? Oh dear. I'm not one of the... itinerants with their primitive clans and such nonsense."

"But––" I paused and sighed into a laugh. "Of course. Pardon me then."

She accepted the apology with a gracious smile. "We are all Jaan, are we not? So I'd be 'Jaan Harshusimee'. That's my name, Harshusimee. Though a friend may call me just Simee."

"Alright, Simee. Is the salon cancelled? There was nobody at the door."

"Oh!" She put her gloved hand on her painted lips. "We were already waiting in the sunside parlour, of course. But–– Oh! You couldn't have known, where that was due to the Pylon. I'm so sorry!"

With no notion of what she meant, I had no other option than follow her through the fashionably mazy corridors. The heady scent of warm spices strengthened with every footstep, until we entered a room of lofty windows, which curved high up into a half-dome of amber. Along with the respectable private library, the shelves held an abundant collection of curios, which appeared distinctly non-Narshurian and rather unimpressive to my amateur evaluation.

The dozen women with their dainty ivory cups got up from their divans, and I was introduced to them. Though none of them demonstrated blatant disapproval, their sharp gazed wandered the length of my attire. Among their subdued pageantry, I stood out like a tavern dancer at a wake.

And stood we did, exchanging this silent stare, presumably waiting for some spectacle from the 'guest of honour'.

"Do take a seat, Nerutaara", Simee said.

"Ah! Yes. Thank you." I hurried to the only spot untaken: an opulently cushioned divan in the middle of the others, who promptly sat after me.

"And thank you for having me. I do apologise for being late."

"No need be sorry! You aren't late, dame Nerutaara." Simee's smile beamed. "We merely began with our preamble before the guest of honour arrived."

Actually understanding what women's salons were would have served me well. If this was to be one of those pots of seedy gossip I had heard of, that could be useful. But for recitations of trendy metropolitan poetry or explanations of advances in bourgeois branches of philosophy, one would have to plumb other sources than Ekku Luttami's education.

"Would you care for a drink, dame Nerutaara?" one of the women asked me. She offered a kettle, while another gave me a cup. I let myself be served whatever warm concoction these women in-took. The first sip hinted at the presence of substances stronger than the average herbs, though the dosage had to be insignificant in order to allow an actual conversation at length.

"Anyhow, dame Nerutaara, we were discussing Ulvemi's latest work on the applied ontology of supersensuous phenomena. You must have read it, of course."

If 'Ulvemi' meant the woman I thought, she had been dead for most of my lifetime. As for going through the effort of reading anything thicker than my thumb, I preferred to read only the synopsises. Spouting a few select terms was usually enough to appear erudite in most company.

"Oh yes." I let the ladies wait while I took a long sip. "Indeed, I found positively stirring the proposition on how a climactic becoming could be reached in the process of parallel conjunction between consenting uniques."

That gained me a moment bemused silence.

"Indeed", a slightly bent greyhair said, her eyes closed shut and head nodding. "That was indeed stimulating."

The discussion continued on to dissect Ulvemi's work, and fortunately I wasn't pressed for further comment. That changed, after the hot liquid had served its purpose, and the topic shifted to the less-than-theoretical.

"Now then, dame Nerutaara." Simee's smile had slowly slipped into a grin. "It has been claimed that certain woman of class partakes in commerce with the outright debonair physician of Poalin."

"That depends entirely on what type of commerce the talk concerns."

"Yes, I assume it does. All the same, the matter is nearly scandalous considering his previous engagement."

"What engagement?"

The sharpness of my question immediately proved to be a mistake. The women's sluggish attention perked in an instant.

"You have not been made aware, dame Nerutaara?"

Thanks to the creeping embrace of the liquid, my outward conduct remained languidly calm. However, my thoughts ran in frantic circles for the duration of a long gulp. "Should I be?"

"Mayhaps not." Simee poured me more of the drink from the self-heating kettle. "Such long term arrangements are rarely considered binding before the ultimate date is set."

"Besides", interjected a Iwunishly tall and robust woman. "A sophisticated male isn't suited to that... woman."

I gestured at Simee to stop the pouring. "Who are we talking about?"

"A clanner name Teuna", continued the large Iwunian. "Trained as what we provincials still call 'witches', though she never was a physician. She too went to Poalin ––at considerable expense to her relatives, I might add––, but returned before managing to finish her degree."

Teuna could very well be one of Vesija's contacts among the traitors. Their past relationship might help to explain why my Iwunian was so reluctant to tell me of it. However, I couldn't seem too eager to question these ladies about Teuna, as then the discussion might end in vague teasing. A calm indifference would encourage them to share ever more radical rumours in a bid to get a proper reaction out of me.

"If not medicine, then what does she do for a living?"

"She works for... Hmm... That company..."

"Urnit Munitions Incorporated", offered Simee.

"Yes. She works for them as a gunwright, I think."

"That might be the case", said Simee. "But she hires herself as a guide and bodyguard."

"I've heard..." said the old woman. "That she works as a surveyor."

"To the Commonwealth?" I asked.

"Who else?"

"Well, I... Could have been private mapmakers."

The old woman shrugged. "Perhaps."

"In any case", I said. "It seems she must travel a lot."

"The clanners tend to do that, of course", Simee agreed. "Even the respectable ones."

Opportunistic itinerancy was practical for secretive malcontent. The fact that it might make her more conspicuous, didn't matter, when good portion of the Narshurian population was of the mobile sort.

A cold thought slithered through my brainstem. Teuna could have been the strange woman at the plague-stricken village. To think Vesija might be able to tolerate romantic involved with a monster like that... I needed to investigate the matter, before I jumped into conclusions. First, I had to make sure my salon companions though my interest in Vesija's associates was purely personal, when it was the opposite, of course.

I examined the gently curving rootwork holding up the far glass above us. Uncaring and haughty demeanour came to me easily as if it was bred into me, which it indeed was. "Is she presently in Hitunna?"

"Do you plan to meet her, dame Nerutaara?"

I laughed in the dismissive manner my mother used to reproach her social near-equals. "No, if I can help it. Nevertheless, to know which places to avoid would be useful. One can never be sure, how these clansfolk take to... poaching."

The mature and refined women tittered like a flock of schoolgirls. Still, it seemed they didn't notice the irony, considering my own clan's customary punishment for poaching on our lands was summary execution. The Commonwealth had put stop to the practice, mostly by not allowing us claim vast tracks of uncultivated wilderness as our personal parkland.

Teuna might have been lucky that I lacked the guts for immediate and permanent solutions.

"She rarely enters the city." The Iwunian's words had began to slur. "When she is at Hitunna, she stays at the trade depot of the... of the..."

"Urnit Munitions Incorporated."

"Yes, there. Thank you, Simee."

Though the women seemed awfully helpful, there was no reason to assume they'd be any more tight-lipped about my visit than they were the matters of others.

"Yes, yes." I yawned. "Sounds awfully dreary, this depot. Let her stay there, I say."

Our flock paused for a round of a self-congratulating nods.

"Of course..." Simee spoke slow to maintain her the prim half of her hybrid accent. "She would have in all likelihood come to the city to participate in communal worship. It's only proper."

"To worship what? The Vad?"

The mood in the parlour congealed like the blood of a frozen cadaver.

"There's no need for profanities, dame Nerutaara", said the Iwunian woman. "It's the revered ancestors we honour, exactly like anywhere else in the Sacred Commonwealth."

"Pardon me. Theology is not my strong suit." I let them all nod in reconciliation and continued: "Which shrine would she visit, most likely?"

"The Tower of Seven Corners. That's a popular reliquary especially among visiting clanners. It's in middle of the Pylon-side ruins. Impossible to miss."

"Thank you." I smiled wide, making sure to look distracted by the narcotic effect of the infusion. "Now I know to be careful, when I visit the houses of worship here. By the way, should I lack the time to see them all, which ones I should go to next?"

The women began to explain the different architectural and historical merits of each sanctuary, tomb, fane, cenotaph and cloister. I prodded them further into a discussion about the sights of Hitunna, which hopefully should bury my indiscretions about Teuna.

"You are all exceedingly aware of the goings in Hitunna." I yawned, this time genuinely. With descend of the sun, the town had lit up like a sea of fiery eyes. "I might have expected plenty of this minutia to go beneath your esteemed notice."

Simee lifted her nose. "We must be vigilant in all things, if we are to help civilise this land."

Whatever that entailed, the Directorate might consider it commendable. As for other Narshurians, to them these ladies would have been traitors for undertaking the presumptuous enterprise of 'civilising' them.

And Jaan should detest nothing more than treason.