About this Book

Friday, November 10, 2017

Chapter 23: The Business of Bureaucracy

The hotel was the sort of hotel that survived merely because it was the only one.  The rooms were dingy, walls yellowing with age and mold growing in the bathroom.  The bedspreads and carpets were of different color palettes and the wall art was an eclectic assortment of pastoral and beach scenes.

Amber sneezed repeatedly, then turned on her heel and left the room.  Tatiana could hear her outside, sneezing on the communal balcony.  Carl surveyed the room, then poked his head out the door,  “It’s pretty nice outside.  Wanna hang out on the balcony?”

Tatiana nodded, shucking her robes off and tossing them on one of the beds. From the balcony she could see all the way to the wall marking the border of the farmland.  Carl leaned up against the railing next to her, a lazy smile on his face.

“How did you two get across the border?” Tatiana shifted away from him as his shirt brushed her arm.

“Lamar pretended that he wasn't cursed anymore,” Amber sniffed, blotting her nose with a tissue, “Carl and I hid and when the droid came out to take his biometrics, we snuck inside.”

“And that worked?” Tatiana was stunned.  It was such a simple plan, she wouldn't have even thought of it.

“Like a charm,” Amber sneezed again.

“Okay, next question: how did you know where to find me?”

“I saw the drone that took you,” Carl contributed, “I knew it was one of the Order’s, since they all have rainbow license plates.  So we just went to the nearest Holy Place.”

“And went on a spree drugging and tying up whoever crossed your path,” Tatiana shook a finger at them.

“Book, Hobiness,” Amber blew her nose in her tissue and tried again, “Look, Holiness, there's a lot of things you don't know about the Order.  They aren't some frock-wearing band of do-gooders-”

“Speak for yourself,” a robotic voice said behind them.  

Amber whirled around to face Alister, her face inches away from his, “And then there's Bill, who didn't even bother to rescue you.”  She poked him in the chest hard enough to make him stumble backwards.

“Woah,” Tatiana moved in between them, “I’m sure the Order isn’t all bad.”

“You’re so naive,” Amber turned towards her, stepping in a little too close, “Get your head out of your anus, Holiness, or they’ll chop it off for you.”

Alister grabbed the back of Amber’s shirt, towing her away from Tatiana.  As he released her, he gave her a shove, and Amber yelped.  She grabbed her chest and scurried across the balcony, running down the exterior staircase.

“Amber!” Tatiana hesitated, her eyes on Alister.  She really wanted to talk to him, but Amber was upset and she was the only one who sort of got along with her.  “Crap,” she said to herself.  Knowing she was in nowhere as good of shape as Amber, she ran after her, slowing as she reached the steps.  Once she reached the bottom, she headed straight across the lot, hoping to catch a glimpse of her.

“She went that way,” called Alister from the balcony.  He pointed to the right.  Tatiana picked up her pace again, forcing herself into a run.  She panted down the street, stopping in front of a man smoking a pipe, “Have you seen a red-headed woman in a purple shirt?”

“I saw a witch in purple, but no woman,” he blew smoke in Tatiana’s direction.

Flummoxed she responded, “You saw a male witch?”  It wasn't impossible, but for whatever reason, men didn't usually get cursed as witches.  

“Why are you looking for the cursed, anyway?” he drew on his pipe, smoke trickling out the sides of his mouth, “Dontcha know they're dangerous?”

“They're not-” Tatiana shook her head.  She couldn't afford to have this conversation.  Every second that ticked by was a second Amber got farther away.  She tried running again, her steps as slow as if she were jogging in molasses.  

A hand closed over her shoulder, “Holiness, Bianca, Tatiana, whatever your name is, stop.”  Tatiana pulled away, then turned to face the witch in purple.  “Come on,” Amber headed towards the building next to them.  It was a glassed in storefront at the bottom of a four story residential building.  Neon signs indicated what beers they had on tap.  The inside was comfortable without being divey, oak chairs and tables, tapestry covered walls, and lacquered room dividers sectioning off a group of 15 people playing cards.

Tatiana sat down, her breath still coming in frantic little gasps.  A waitress came by the table, pouring her a glass of water.  Tatiana took a sip and eyed Amber.  She was nursing a beer, her eyes glittering in the low lighting, her face in an unreadable expression.  “You’re right,” Tatiana took another sip of water, “I don't know anything about the Order.  But more important, I don't know anything about you, not really.”  The waitress came by and Tatiana ordered a margarita.  “Not that it's any of my business,” she continued, “but when I was last at the Holy Place, I kept feeling like there was something weird going on, like people can't be honest for some reason.”

“You need to make it your business, Tatiana,” Amber lifted the pint glass towards her mouth, then set it back down again, “Don't be fooled by the communal spirit and the the camaraderie.  Everyone there is only out for themselves.”  Her eyes glazed over as if she was staring straight into the past, “You know, Tate really loved me.  He did something no one in Citadel was willing to do for me; he came to my aid even though I didn't deserve it.”

Tatiana shifted in her chair uncomfortably, “I don't want to talk about him.”

Amber’s forehead pinched together as she focused on Tatiana, “Not to be rude or anything, but you’re just jealous he picked me over you.”

Tatiana flinched as if she'd been slapped, “You know what the truth is?  I’d rather be cursed forever than have him as my patron.  I’m glad I lost his fiddle.  I hope the neck snapped.  I hope someone uses it for firewood.”  The waitress threw a cocktail napkin on the table, deposited her drink, and dashed off.

“You feel about him like I feel about the Order.  Did you know I was in the Order for three years?” Amber continued without waiting for a response, “They were people I trusted, people I loved.”  She swigged her beer, “Then I made a mistake.  I got really close to a priest who was very popular.  She was the same age as me and we just kind of clicked.  One day I bragged to another servant about how well I got along with Her Holiness.” Amber rotated her beer glass between her hands, “A few days later I turned into a witch.”  Amber lifted the glass to her, taking a long drink.  She swallowed, then took a deep breath, “But that wasn't the worst part.  The worst part was that they got rid of me so easily.  Her Holiness never even said goodbye, ‘cause you know, everyone is replaceable.”

“No,” Tatiana couldn't help interrupting, “No one is replaceable, and if I ever get like that, take me out back and shoot me.”

“You can't help it,” Amber shook her head, “Even if you start off as a decent person, the slow drip of bureaucracy wears away at you.”  She took another gulp of her beer, the spark gone from her eyes.  “Do you know why I ran away the way I did?”

Tatiana shook her head silently.  

“Bill snapped my bra strap so hard, it came completely undone.”

Tatiana snorted, then covered her mouth, “Sorry, I shouldn’t laugh.”

Amber tipped back the rest of her beer, then signaled the waitress.  “Let's go back to the hotel.”

“You're coming with me?” Tatiana couldn't hide her surprise.


“I’m not going to sneak across the border, stage your rescue, and follow you to some Ellipse-forsaken city, only to ditch you over an embarrassing moment.  Anyway, I can’t really leave you alone with those idiot Marshalls, can I?”

Sunday, November 5, 2017

Chapter 22: The Pirate of Errant

Errant was a peculiar looking city, the town proper arranged in a shape that resembled nothing as much as an amoeba.  The irregular line of business dissipated into farmlands on all sides.  The nucleus of the single-celled being was a two-story glass building with “City Hall” stenciled on the front.  

Tatiana pulled her robes on over her clothes, passing the red ones to Amber.  “You gonna tell me what we're doing?” Amber pulled the robes over her head.

“I’m going to try to convince the mayor to make this a city of refuge,” Tatiana tied her orange sash around her waist and opened the door.  They entered into a waiting area with vinyl chairs and a potted palm.  At the far end, a receptionist sat behind Plexiglas.  Tatiana approached the desk, “We would like to see the mayor.”

“Names?” The man peered at them over the top of his readers.

“Tatiana Ellipse, priest of the Order of the Ellipse,” she set The Enchiridion on the counter for effect, “This is my servant Amber Kant, and my associate Carl Marshall of the Devils.”

“Have a seat,” the man responded.

They sat in a row, Carl picking up a magazine and Amber flipping through a informational pamphlet.  “Hey Carl,” Tatiana flipped open the Enchiridion, “you ever heard of The Wizard of Oz?”

“We’re not in Egregia anymore,Tati,” Carl cracked a grin.

“I feel like we’re in that part of the book where they meet the Wizard, but something’s gone horribly wrong.”

“What?” Carl closed the magazine and placed it on the seat next to him.

“Cowardly Lion,” she pointed at him, “Tin Man,” she pointed at Amber, “Scarecrow,” she pointed at herself.  “We lost Dorothy and Toto.”

“Are you saying my brother is like a naive farm girl with her head in the clouds?” Carl’s mouth twitched belying the seriousness of his expression.

“I’m saying this was his mission,” Tatiana pulled her notepad out of her sash, “Mina said he’d written something about starting a city of refuge.”

Before she could finish her thought, the receptionist opened the inner door.  “Holiness,” he gestured for her to follow him, “the mayor will see you now.”

The door opened to a maze of cubicles, and they passed through the center of them to reach the elevator.  The receptionist rode the elevator with them, escorting them to the office marked, “Mayor.”  He tapped on the door, waiting until the mayor called, “Come in.”

The mayor looked how Tatiana would imagine a pirate, scraggly long grey hair, chest length beard, and an artificial eye.  “Have a seat, have a seat,” he waved his beefy hand at the two visitor chairs, “I’m Mayor Gunderson.  What can I do for the Order?”

“I’m not here on behalf of the Order,” Tatiana sat on half the chair, motioning for Amber to squeeze in next to her, “Really, I’m here on behalf of the cursed.”

“Very good,” the mayor grinned, “I thought a priest with a witch for a servant might have something interesting to say.”

“Mr. Mayor, I have heard that Errant tolerates the cursed within its boundaries, but do you protect them?”

“That, Holiness, would be against Citadel law,” the mayor crossed his arms across his chest.

“Well, yes,” Tatiana sucked in her lip, dismayed.

“Guess you don't have any real power then, huh?” grumbled Carl.

“Of course I have power,” the mayor sat up.

“So you could do what she says?  Protect the cursed?” Carl put his hands behind his head and crossed his ankle over his knee.

“Yeah, if I wanted to.”

“You know, never mind,” Tatiana stood up, “I thought that Errant would want to be the first city of refuge, but I was wrong.  I’m sure there's another more progressive city that wo-”

“Now wait a minute, Holiness,” the mayor interrupted, “I didn't say we wouldn't be the first city, I just said I needed to think about it.  Come back tomorrow and talk to me again.”

“Thank you, Mr. Mayor,” Tatiana nodded her goodbyes, following Carl out of the office.  They waited by the elevator in silence.  

As the doors shuddered open, Tatiana stepped back to allow a man to exit.  He stood in place, a shocked expression on his face.  The doors closed themselves and she tapped the elevator button, “Alister!”  The doors jerked back open.  She hadn't recognized him at first, without his robes.  “What is that?” she pointed at his shirt.  It looked like tactical gear, thick and slightly reflective.  It covered him from his neck to the base of his fingers, zipping up the center.  

“It’s an assistive device,” as he signed a robotic voice translated for him.  He stepped out of the elevator and joined them in the hall.

Tatiana scratched her head, “I don't know what question to ask first.”

“We can talk later.  Right now I’m supposed to advise the mayor.”

“Advise the mayor?!”

“I said I’d explain later,” Alister touched her shoulder gently, “There’s a hotel across the street.  Go book a room and I’ll meet you there later.”

Amber punched the elevator button.  It was still on the top floor, and the doors slid open.  “Come on Holiness,” Amber steered her into the car, “Let’s do what Bill says.”

Carl stepped in next to them and they descended.  “My brain hurts,” she said to him.

“Yeah, well I’m terrified,” he responded.

“You are?” Tatiana looked at Carl’s face.  His eyes were a steady, soft red, his lips tipped up in a small smile.


“The Wizard of Oz, Tati,” he reminded her, “You said I was the Lion.”