About this Book

Sunday, December 3, 2017

Chapter 24: Undermined

Alister was laying on the bed Tatiana had claimed for herself, the Enchiridion open in front of him.  Annoyed, Tatiana tried to pull her robes out from underneath him.

“I didn’t hear you come in,” Alister rolled off her robes.

“Does that thing actually make it so you can?  Hear I mean?”

“No,” Alister pulled on his bottom eyelid, “I’m wearing a special contact that puts captions on everything the microphone,” he tapped the high neck of his shirt, “picks up.”

“Why not just bring Kadeem?”

“I sent him back to Browlee,” Alister’s face darkened, “He turned me over to the Order as an apostate, not realizing that I am following the conscious that the Ellipse saw fit to give me.”  Alister sniffed, rubbing his eyes.

“The dust in here sure is bothering everyone,” Tatiana thought.

“I thought I was more than a master to him.  I thought . . .”  Even though his words were conveyed by the flat robotic voice, his natural sounds conveyed his grief.  

Surprised, Tatiana sat down next to him on the bed.  She gently put a hand on his back, “Kadeem really loves you.  He was just trying to do what he thought was best for you.”

“Why does everybody think they know what's best for me, just because I'm deaf?  I’m not a child, I just can't hear,” Alister stared down at the Enchiridion, his tears blurring the type on the thin pages, “Even this book looks at deafness as a curse.”

Tatiana took her hand off his back and picked up the book, “Let’s burn it then.”

Alister laughed.  “You never change.”  He pulled his pouch out of his sash, “I think I need to commune and figure out our next steps.  You should too.”

“My relic got left in Egregia.”

Alister wiped his eyes with the corner of his robe, “I should strip you of your orange sash.”

Tatiana scooted away from him, “Not fair.  I’m already halfway to yellow.”

“That relic is the cord that connects you to the other world.  Without it, you have no ballast.”

Amber opened the door.  She crossed the room and lay on the other bed.

“If you did manage to somehow access the power of the Ellipse, it would kill you,” Alister stared at his comb.

“Quit telling her weird things, Bill,” Amber rolled on her side, propping her chin up on her hand.

“It’s not weird, it’s true.  She left her relic in Egregia.”

“No she didn't,” Amber sat up, “It’s been in Carl’s bag the whole time.”  Amber picked up a worn rice sack and tried to pull out the fiddle.  The tuning pegs caught on a stray thread of burlap and Amber struggled to remove it, the thread tangled in an impossible knot.  “Her Holiness is doing her best to live up to the true heart of the Ellipse,” she gave up tugging on the fiddle, “Unlike some people who run around starting fights, ditching their responsibilities, and doing things priests shouldn't do.”

Alister’s face scrunched in puzzlement, “Since when do you call Tatiana ‘Her Holiness?’”

“Since she started earning it,” Amber yanked on the fiddle again.  A peg flew across the room, bouncing off the wall and landing on the carpet.  Tatiana jumped off the bed and got down on all fours.  Spotting it, she palmed it, dizziness tickling the back of her mind.

When she sat up, Alister was watching her, a thoughtful look on his face.  

“Don't say it,” Tatiana admonished.

“What?”

“Whatever you’re thinking, just don't say it,” she took the fiddle from Amber, closing her eyes and sitting quietly.

“Psst, Bianca,” Amber poked her in the ribs.

She cracked an eye open, “Shhh.”

“Bill is in la-la land.  Let’s talk strategy.”

Alister was sitting on her bed, his legs tucked under him, his comb in the palm of his hand.  “I don’t really have a strategy,” Tatiana whispered.

“Yeah, I noticed,” Amber jumped from her bed, landing on the other bed with a thump.
“Are you trying to wake him up?” Tatiana hissed.

“He’s not going to wake up,” Amber punched him in the back, “See?  If you didn’t wrap your robe around your hands before taking Tate’s fiddle, you’d be zombified too.”  She punched him again for good measure.

“Quit that, you’re going to leave a bruise,” Tatiana sat on the edge of the bed.  “If the Mayor agrees to make Errant a city of refuge, we don’t need a strategy.”

“And if he doesn’t?” Amber crossed her arms.  “This whole idea doesn’t even sound like something Bill would come up with,” she smacked him on the back of the head, “Something like running through the wall with a train is much more his style.”

“But the train tracks don’t run anywhere near the wall,”  Tatiana nibbled on her lip, “A semi-truck might work, I guess.  A tank would be perfect, but how would we . . .” she trailed off seeing the look on Amber’s face.

“This is why you hang out with him, isn’t it?”

“I was assigned to him, I’m not ‘hanging out’ with him,” indignantly, Tatiana crossed her arms, “Anyway, do you have any better ideas?”

“Okay, Holiness, how about this,” Amber picked up the hotel stationery pad and drew two horizontal lines on it.  “This is the wall, okay?” she pointed at the space between the lines, “You want to go through the wall,” she drew an arrow in the space.  “What if we were to go,” she drew an arrow under the bottom line, “under the wall.”


“You know, this idea could work really well with the city of refuge.  We could squirrel people out of Egregia through the tunnel, put them up in a safe house, and help them get reestablished in Citadel,” Tatiana was getting excited.  She couldn’t wait to talk to the mayor the next day.

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.”

Thursday, September 28, 2017

Chapter 21: The Enchiridion

Time slowed in captivity, her isolation deafening her sense of self until she felt as though she was submerged in water.  True to her word, Mina kept her separate from Alister, so separate, that she wondered if he was in the Holy Place at all.  Each day was the same, a rigorous schedule of blessing the sick who were shuttled in from a nearby hospital, then blessing any visitors, and finally blessing the servants of the Order.  Ending each day in a state of physical exhaustion, she would retire to her room to read The Enchiridion.  

The Enchiridion was by turns thought provoking and boring.  It began with a creation story, a myth she had heard before, that humankind was made from a loud sound on a doughnut shaped planet.  The Ellipse, as far as she could figure, was music itself.  It was only later that it took on the form of a geometric shape so that humankind could understand it.  

She was just finishing the chapter on how the Ellipse, frustrated with the cruelty of humanity, sang the curse into existence.  There was a knock at her door, and she rose from her chair.  A servant waited at the door with a cart, “If it pleases Your Holiness, your servant will change Your Holiness’ sheets?”

The woman’s face was bandaged, her visible skin a strange pale color under a scraggly mass of black hair.  Feeling awkward, Tatiana tried not to stare as she held the door.  The servant rolled the cart near the bed and started removing the blankets.  Tatiana sat back in her chair, flipping to the next chapter of The Enchiridion. “This is the story of the redemption of Eric, a man cursed for 314 days,” she read.

“Bianca,” said the servant, “You wanna get out of here?”

Startled, Tatiana turned in her chair, “Amber?  Is that you?  You look . . . different.”

“Paper mache, clay, and a horsehair wig.  Now hurry up and climb in this laundry bag.  It’s only a matter of time before the servants I drugged wake up.”

“You did what?”

“Just get in the bag Bianca,” Amber held out the the sides of one of the canvas sacks on her cart.  Tatiana picked up her notebook and tucked it inside her sash.  At the last minute she grabbed The Enchiridion, tossing it into the bottom of the bag.  She stepped in after it, tucking herself into a ball so Amber could tie the top shut.  The light filtered through the weave of the fabric and she could feel the cart start rolling.  

The ride seemed interminable, and just when Tatiana thought she could no longer stand the suffocating feeling of having her entire body covered, the cart stopped and Amber opened the top of the bag.  They were inside a large room lined with industrial washers and dryers.  One servant slumped next to the machines, three others leaned against the folding and pressing tables, dozing against the fabric they were meant to be ironing.  Amber opened the window above the sorting table, popping out the screen.  “Out you go,” she said over her shoulder.  Tatiana climbed onto the table and peered out the window.  Sensing her hesitation, Amber gave her a shove.  Instinctively, Tatiana rolled into a ball, wrapping her good arm around her bad.  She tumbled to the ground, her shoulder smarting from the impact.  Amber landed gracefully on her feet, reaching down to help Tatiana up.  They ran away from the building, turning out onto the tramway bustling with evening commuters.  Immediately slowing to a brisk walk, Amber looped her arm through the crook in Tatiana’s cast.  

“Where are we going?” Tatiana passed a drug store and a cafe on her right.  

“You know, every time I see you, you're tagging along behind some man who has no idea where he is going,” Amber pulled her down an alleyway, “So why don't you tell me - where are we going?”

Tatiana sucked in her bottom lip, “Is there a city near here that is friendly to the cursed?”

“There’s Errant, but you don't want to go there.  It’s dangerous.”

“Great, I’m going to Errant,” Tatiana looked over her shoulder, “Shouldn't we take a tram?”

“Dressed like a priest and a servant?  No,” Amber pulled her into the back of a shop.  Boxes and hangers littered the small room.  A woman lay on the floor, bound by her ankles and wrists, her mouth taped shut with packing tape.  She grunted when she saw Tatiana and Amber, squirming in place.  

“Carl, we’re here,” Amber called, ignoring the woman.

“We untie her before we leave,” Tatiana pointed at the captive.

“Whatever you want Holiness, just change into this,” Amber tossed her a pair of jeans and a brown t-shirt.  While Tatiana changed, Amber scrubbed the gunk off her face in the bathroom.  She emerged from the bathroom in khakis and a plum blouse, Carl trailing behind her.  His face brightened as he saw her, a goofy smile taking over his expression.

“How come you didn't change?” Tatiana waved at his hand-spun shirt and heavily patched jeans.  

“We’re in a women's clothing store,” he shrugged, “The clothes just aren't really cut right.”

“C’mon,” Amber opened the back door, “we got a tram to catch.”

Tatiana picked up a box cutter off the ground and approached the woman, “I’m going to cut the tape off your wrists, okay?  You can do your legs and mouth.”  She carefully cut through the tape, placing the box cutter in the woman's hands, “Sorry about everything.”  Before leaving the store, she grabbed the robes, wrapping The Enchiridion and her notepad in the center of the bundle.  

They caught a tram headed East, Amber paying for their fare with blessings from her leather pouch.  Carl’s eyes widened as the tram left the stop, and he spent the trip staring out the window mesmerized.  Tatiana couldn't help but notice people looking their way and whispering.  “Is this safe?” she asked between her teeth.

“I’m guessing at worse they’ll kick us off the tram,” Amber glanced around the car, a fake smile glued to her face.  


A stop before they reached Errant, a man debarking sneered at them.  “Fucking freaks,” his voice was loud, spittle flying at his pronouncement, “Go back to where you came from.”  The tram car became unaccountably silent, and no one would even glance in their direction.