Lords and Ladies (2.7)

“That’s fascinating,” says Lord White.  “A Mark of the Mother.”

“It’s not fascinating, it’s dreadful, dear.”

“It’s going to be all right, Duchess,” says Ben reassuringly, holding up Kitty’s arm while the rest of the family pins her to the now vacant dinner table.  Mindy, Dante, and Kai remain strangely absent.  The rest of the group watches her, Annie’s face twisting between bliss and genuine concern.

“Don’t you worry, Kitten.  My brother is an expert in the field of Thaumic Surgery.”

“Surgery?!”

“Oh, that’s just a clever name.  It’s really more like an exorcism.”

“It’s definitely one of the Marks.  Dante’s father can probably hear us right now.”

“That little snake in the grass,” seethes Lord White.  “He turned her into a bloody listening device.”

“This is hardly the time for cliche’, father.”

“You know how he gets when he’s angry, Eve.”

“Yes, mum.”

“It might be worse than that,” says Ben.  “He could cast a spell through her.  I don’t think the Mark has quite settled in yet.  It’s a good thing it reacted the way it did to father’s light spell, or else this girl could have burst into flames at any moment.”

Kitty’s eyes snap towards Ben.  He smiles sheepishly.  “Of course, that’s not going to happen now.  Probably.  Hold still.”

Ben places his hand on the back of Kitty’s hand, shutting his eyes and concentrating.  The burning sensation continues, then intensifies.  Kitty begins to scream.

“We should have put her under.   I knew we should have put her under,” says Lord White.

“You heard Ben earlier. There’s already traces of a sleep spell on her,” says Lady White.  “And who knows what else.”

“Poor girl’s been under a lot of mind control. Judging from thaumic levels I’d suspect it’s short but intense time periods,” says Ben, eyes still closed and concentrating as Kitty writhes in pain.  “The memory wipes are short term but exhaustive and frequent.  Someone’s been using this girl as a tool, and they didn’t want her to know.  My god, she must have met the same person over and over...”

The burning sensation turns into more of a tingling one.   The pain is still omnipresent.

“It’s a huge security risk, is what it is.”

Ben grimaces.  “He’s fighting back.  He knows what we’re doing.”  Sweat forms on his forehead.  “I think I’ve got it.”

“You should let me do it-” begins Lord White.

“I.  Have.  It.” Ben insists.  The glow on Kitty’s fingers begins to shine white and gold instead of red, but the pain increases. “Hold. On.”

He grits his teeth, pearly white beacons in the pitch darkness of Kitty’s mind.  She couldn’t scream any more; she feels as if her vocal chords have collapsed.

With a righteous growl a bright light envelopes Kitty’s hand.  One last brief intense explosion of pain rocks Kitty’s body - but it leaves as suddenly as it came.

Kitty swears she hears a faint, distant thud of a body being thrown to the ground.  She blinks, lifting her head in that direction and seeing only a wooden wall.

“Ha!  Yes!” shouts Ben, punching the air with both fists.  “Take that, you old demonologist!”

“Dragonologist,” corrects Lord White.  Ben rolls his eyes.

Kitty sits up on the table, as family and friends approach her.  Annie tries to climb on the table, but Lady stops her with a hand.  Kitty just tries to smile reassuringly at her.

“Are you all right?” asks Lady.

“I feel...good,” says Kitty, smiling a little.

“Yes, but Lord Ilucis isn’t,” says Lord White. “This is even more serious than we thought. He knows.”

“Then let’s talk protection,” replies Lady Tiger, with a smile.

***

About an hour later, the Tiger family (and hangers on) were out the front door, saying their goodbyes to the White family.

“We really should hang out again sometime, under better circumstances,” says Evangeline, cheerfully.  “I’m sorry you didn’t get to see my collection.”

“H-heh heh, that’s...really okay,” says Kitty, shaking her hand.  “Do you still want to come to the Library?”

“Oh, absolutely!  Absolutely.  I’ll give you a call sometime.”

“It’s a public library.”

“I like your voice.”

“...Eh?  Well, okay then.  I’ll talk to you then.  It was nice meeting you.  Good-bye!”

“Good evening, Duchess.”

The Tiger family begins walking away from the White Manor, down the dirt path.  Soon they are out of sight of the White family.

“...Are we far enough away, yet?” asks Annie.

“Yes,” says Lady.  “You may now kiss the Duchess.”

Princess Annie proceeds to stumble over to Kitty, throw her arms around her, and kiss her hard.

“Mmmph!” complains Kitty.  Yu giggles, taking off her heels immediately and going barefoot.   She shakes her hair out, and kneels down.  She scoops up a hand full of dirt and begins rubbing it over her face.

“Ahhhh,” says Yu.  Lady rolls her eyes, and Pamela just smiles for a moment.

“Kitty,” says Annie, breaking the kiss.

“Yes?”

Annie points at the pink and black tiger headband above her own head.  “I’m a tiger too.”

“Yes.  You’re also still drunk.”

“Yep!  Eva was cool.”

“She was.”

“Do you think she’d work in a harem?”

“...Annie.”

“Maybe I should start one.  I’m old enough now.  And it’d be all female, so it’d make more sense than Mom’s.”

“Annie, you’re just drunk.”

“I can do what I want,” she insists, in a sloppy sort of way.  Kitty rolls her eyes, and Annie kisses her cheek.  “You could be, like, harem captain.”

“Annie.”

“Harem dame.  Harem...Uh...harem admiral.  Kitty, admiral of booty!” She detaches from Kitty’s shoulders, brings her feet almost together, and salutes Kitty’s rear end.

“At ease, princess.”

“Aye aye, Booty!”

“Kitty.”

“Kibooty!”

“We need to get you to bed.”

Annie wiggles her eyebrows.

“Not like that.”

She sticks out the bottom of her pink lips, puckering them up into a pout.

“Don’t start, Annie.  And anyway, you know I couldn’t even if I wanted to.  Lady says people knowing about our relationship is potentially bad enough politically right now, me being in a harem would be an outright scandal!  At least I can’t get you pregnant or anything...”

“Pfff, politics!”  Annie giggles, leaning on Kitty again.  “Who cares?  Politics are dumb.  When I’m a Queen, there shall be no politics!”

“You don’t really know what politics is, do you-Ow!”  Annie pinches Kitty’s cheek and then giggles again.

“At the end of my coronation,” says Annie, attempting to stand up straight and proud.  In her present state it still doesn’t really work.  “I am going call you up on stage in front of everyone, and all of the television cameras.  And then I am going to grab you, and kiss you long and hard in front of the entire city.  And then I’m going to look towards the camera, loudly point out that I will never have a King unless it’s you, and let them know that they can stuff it and figure out succession after I dead!”

“...Annie, that’s sweet, but we probably shouldn’t brag about causing a succession crisis in the distant future.”

“If we could focus on the present for right now...” says Pamela, interrupting.  She walks besides them.  “There’s one thing that still bothers me about the evening...”

“There’s a lot of things that bother me about this evening,” says Kitty.

“Our friend the beret lady.  What happened to her?”

Kitty blinks, reaching in her head for a mental image.  “Who?”

“...The woman with the beret?  You know, french?”

Kitty turns to her, frowning.  “...Pamela, I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“...She tried to molest you in the bar.”

“I’m sure I’d remember something like that!”

“Huh...Yeah, Kitty, she’s right.  She did vanish,”  Annie interjects.

“You’ve both gone crazy.  We must all be very tired.  Or drunk.  I can’t wait until I’m home in bed...”

***

Speaking of beds...

Dante presently lay in Mindy’s, looking idly around the room.  He could still make out the shapes in the dark; he had always felt his night vision was excellent.  Posters hung around the wall.  A pair of pom-poms hung from a rack.  A cheerleading uniform, proudly hung on the door of her closet.  A few video game consoles from the old world parked in front of the television in one corner, along with a computer.  The dark, menacing outlines of dragons, all made of arts and crafts, holding a dark vigil over the couple on the...

bed.

Such as it was.

In reality it was more like a giant bean bag.  Dante quietly ponders what it was filled with.

“Can’t sleep?” whispers Mindy.  Her small, slender form dominates much of Dante’s vision.  The bed is not large enough for both of them, so she lays with her head on his chest, listening to his heart beat.  

His feelings are mixed.

“Not yet,” replies Dante.

“I’m sorry about grandpa.  And Silvertongue,” she says, bringing Dante’s mind to recall the White family pet leaping over a chair at his face.  He shudders.  

“...It’s fine.  Not your fault.”

“...I’m happy you’re here,” she says, quietly.  

They lay in silence, for a bit.

“I do like you, you know,” says Dante.

“I know.  And tomorrow you’ll be gone.”

A charming little clock with a dragon perched on it ticks away in the corner.

“It’s okay,” says Mindy.  “I’d wander off too if we were in your home.”

“Heh.”

Tick.  Tock.

“You wouldn’t have to.”

Tick.  Tock.

“Really?”

Tick.  Tock.

“Yeah.”

Tick.  Tock.

“Huh.”

Tick.  Tock.

“Um...Mindy, I’ve been thinking.”

Tick.

“Really?”

Tock.

“Haha, very funny.”

Tick.

“What is it?”

Tock.

“I think...It would be okay if...Maybe...We started over.  Took it slow.  I mean...”

Tick.

“I know what you mean.”

Tock.

“Is that okay?  I’m sorry, I just don’t know if I can...”

Tick.  She puts a finger on his lips.  Tock.

“Yes.  That makes me happy.”

Tick.  “Oh.”  Dante smiles a little. Tock.

“...I don’t have to give up the guys, do I?” says Mindy.

“Only if I don’t have to give up the girlfriends.”

“Awesome.”

The clock ticks by, on and on into the night...

“Still can’t sleep?”

“Not yet,” says Dante, again.

“I know a way we could pass the time.”

“I said take it slow.”

Mindy laughs, sitting up.  Blue eyes look down at Dante, meeting his emerald green.  “I’m just screwing with you.”

“Metaphorically.”

“We’ll see!”  she says, and presses her lips to his.

Nothing further happens.  They embrace, and fall asleep in each other’s arms, surrounded by the watchful eyes of imaginary lizards. Time marches onward around them, straight on into morning.  

Dante dreams of dragons.

***

Across the bridge, on the edge of Tiger Island, a Library lay silent in the night.

In a small room at the top of the building, Kitty rests in the dark.  Anilin’s golden curls lay over her, like an extra blanket.  The bed is far too small for both girls, but - aside from Annie’s drunken breath and tendency to hog most of the bed -they don’t really care.

“I’m not looking forward to tomorrow,” says Kitty.  “That Antonio guy is probably getting moved here, Rhoda’s probably had a heart attack, your parents are already angry...”

“Gurgle,” snores Annie.

“And you’re already asleep, aren’t you.”  Kitty sighs, and runs a hand through Annie’s hair.  “Figures.”  Kitty gently rolls Annie over, crawling into her arms and gently pulling them around herself.  She curls up in a little ball in Annie’s arms, shutting her eyes.

Annie snorts, and opens bloodshot eyes.  She looks down at the short, thinner girl, pulling her close.  She nuzzles into Kitty’s hair, though she’s drooling a bit.  Kitty doesn’t care right now.

“‘M gonna protect you, Kitty,” she mumbles through sleep and hangover.

“I know, Annie.  It’s okay.  Just sleep.  I’ll be here safe and sound in the morning.”

“‘Sure?” murmurs half-conscious Annie.

“I’m sure.”  Kitty glances towards the door, hesitantly...Then kisses Annie’s cheek.

Annie giggles and gurgles, her eyes shutting.  “Gotta kiss.  Finally.”

“You sure did.”

And with that, Annie fell into sleep.  Soon after, in the warm embrace of her best friend and lover, she followed.

Kitty dreamt of love.

***

Elsewhere in town, Pamela sits in a office, looking over the day’s notes.  She is tired.  She is exhausted.  She is...concerned.

“We narrowly avoided a civil war today,” says Pamela, aloud, staring at her notebook.  “I’m not sure we’ll still avoid it, depending on what Lord Ilucis is planning.  I am not looking for to the next Council meeting.  It’s going to be tense, right?”

There was no answer.  Pamela sighs.

“Magic.  It’s complicated enough when they don’t bring that in.  And Lord Ilucis has more clout than we do, even if we have Lord White on our side.  I’ll be honest, if war breaks out, I don’t know that we’ll have enough support with us.  The Tiger Tribe can survive for a long time, sure, but given enough time the other tribes would break through.”  Pamela sighs again.  There have been a lot of sighs.  It’s been a non-stop chain of sighs.  “As therapeutic as a war of secession would be for you and your people, I just don’t think it’s feasible right now.  Too many people are still comfortable with the status quo.”

There’s no answer again.  Pamela looks up, tiredly, at her office’s bathroom door.  “Lady?  Are you listening to me?  This is important, toots.”

“I know,” says a deep voice from the bathroom.

“I just don’t want to see you get hurt, okay?  Or your people.”

The bathroom door opened.  Lady emerged.  Her hair was down, her Traditional Cat Headband was off, and her lips were curled up in a rare smile.  She was wearing a dark overcoat, exposing her legs.  She leaned against the door frame, one heeled foot up against it, lounging in an alluring way.  “Hello, Detective,” she says knowingly.

Pamela watches, and despite her frustration, smiles, leaning tiredly on a fist.  “Hey there, Tigress.”

Lady approaches her, slowly.  “The Tiger Tribe is strong, and I’m no fool.  If the worst comes to worst, we’ll need allies.”  She reaches over the desk, brushing a bit of lint off Pamela’s shoulder.  “In the meantime, we will simply have to find some other way to keep Lord Ilucis at bay.  Or destroy him.  There is little more effective than turning the public against him.”

Pamela gave yet another sigh.  “How to you propose to do that, toots?”

Lady’s smile broadened.  “Leave that to me for now, love,” she says, and proceeds to open her overcoat.

Pamela looks at what was waiting behind it.

Her face grows rather hot.

“Oh,” says Pamela, as Lady turns the desk lamp off.

***

Days pass...

Life in the city goes on, from sun to moons, as it has for every city at every time in history.  For some, the days are interesting and full of new wonders.  For others, the days are slow and monotonous.  Every story is different and unique, and many intersect.  So it goes.

A week passes...

***

A large carriage is parked on Faust Boulevard.

It would be unremarkable in times long lost, but here it stands out.  For one, because it is the only carriage.  For two, because it has been partly painted in an eye catching gentle pink.  A sign that reads “Destiny’s Fortunes” in a flowery font has been hung out the front door.   It’s large enough for one person to live in with a small amount of comfort.

Inside, a woman of Roma descent watches by a window in the side of the carriage, peering out at the street.  She has adopted a manner and style of dress intentionally meant to play up the classical Western literary stereotypes attributed, however wrongly, to her race.  There are many people descended from old world Roma in the city, but there is only one...her.

Her name was Despina, but mostly people knew her as Destiny.  She was a sorceress who happened to be half-Roma, but of course, most of the less well-educated people of the city had no idea what that was.  No one wanted to have their fortune read by “that Dragon woman who says she’s a wizard and has a dad that punches people for Lords Faust and Ilucis.”  That was a mouthful.  There was no romance to it.

So, for much of the day, Despina the Half-Roma Dragoness Wizard became Destiny the Gypsy Enchantress.  It was alluring.  It was mysterious.  It was somewhat offensive, but that was practically what made it good marketing.   It was also, in a way, a devilishly fun.

Destiny feels a cold wind blow into her little carriage.  A customer likely managed to open the front door without her noticing.  She puts on her best smile, moving over to the table with the crystal ball and tarot cards.

“You may enter,” she says, adopting a calm, soft voice.  “I have seen you.”

“Ma’am, you have never seen We.”

A tall, slender man sweeps through the curtain, almost gliding in.  He’s wearing a pinstripe suit, and his head is bald.  He seems to stand out against the backdrop of the world, almost as if he was just a little more real than it...

“Welcome, sir,” says Destiny, unfazed. “Are you here to find your...Destiny?”

The man smiles.  “You would not survive Our destiny.  We are here for the destinies of another.”

Destiny chuckles.  “An unusual request.  Who’s destiny would you have me tell you?  Mine perhaps?  A business rival’s?  The city itself?”

“Peer into your crystal ball, acolyte, and tell We.”

Destiny humors him, looking down into the crystal ball.

It was real, of course, and she actually saw things through them.  To have a request to use it to find a client in the first place, that was unique.  She peers deep into the shadows moving inside the ball, reading them...

“I see...two people. A woman of the Tiger tribe, and a man of the Dragon tribe.”

“Oh, yes?  Do go on.  We listen with rapt attention.”

“I cannot.  Not yet.  If I observe one, we shall lose focus on the other.  I cannot read you both fortunes at the same time, sir.”

The man smiles.  Slightly.  “We know this.”

“Who do you wish to see first?  The woman or the man?