Chapter 36: I Choose You for Tonight
Dorian woke to the Mother Call.
Not the familiar pull of reflection. This one caught somewhere behind his ribs and dragged him awake hard enough that he sat up before his thoughts followed.
The Mother needed him.
He reached for his clothes. And found nothing.
Dorian stared at the empty space beside the sleeping mat. Most of his clothes had vanished. His coat and brass cuff had been placed carefully on the low table, apparently considered too dangerous for the laundry. A folded set of plain linen clothes waited beside them.
Excellent.
When he stepped outside, two young Loteri immediately jumped to their feet.
“Witness of the Pact, did you rest well?” one began. “Do you need food? Water? Anything?”
“Thanks. Later.” He started towards the Mother’s protected ground. The two young Loteri fell in behind him. After two steps, Dorian stopped and looked back.
“The Elders sent us,” one explained quickly. “In case you need help.”
Dorian opened his mouth to object, then noticed everyone else. At least twenty people waited around the guest tent. Some held mirrors. One woman had brought a child. Several bowed as soon as they saw him.
A woman stepped forward. “Witness, will you bless my son?”
Dorian blinked.
Other voices followed immediately.
“Can you ask the Mother if my sister will recover?”
“Will the shroom harvest be successful this season?”
“Man with Mirror Eyes! Will you bless my marriage?”
More voices joined them. Before the requests reached a critical number, the two Loteri sent by the Elders moved with surprising professionalism. They stepped between Dorian and the crowd, blocked several determined petitioners and opened a path.
Dorian reconsidered his objection. Perhaps having an escort was not entirely a bad idea.
After that, the two young Loteri moved slightly ahead of him, intercepting people before they could get too close. Several questions still followed him across the settlement.
He kept walking.
The closer he came to the Mother, the quieter everything became. Conversations dropped to whispers. People moved carefully. Even children were being reminded to keep their voices down.
Several lines of warriors guarded the protected ground. Each let him through without question.
Inside the great tent, the Mother rested among skins and cushions. She looked entirely content.
Dorian stopped. A soft layer of unfamiliar reflective energy gathered around her belly, gentle and warm. The Mother lowered her trunk and rested it there with extraordinary care. Then one mirrored eye opened.
The Great Sun and the Loteri Lands have blessed me with a daughter.
Dorian bowed slightly. “Sincere congratulations.”
Take the news to the Elders.
He inclined his head.
You are released from your duty for now. I will Call when I need you again.
“That sounds dangerously close to a holiday.”
Her laughter touched the connection.
As Dorian turned to leave, another thought reached him.
And tell them they may chant now, if they wish.
Dorian smiled privately.
He paused outside the tent and glanced around. From the gentle slope of the protected ground, he could see beyond Tavra Sol more clearly now. The place had grown considerably since their arrival. More Loteri were still coming through the entrance. Temporary camps had spread across the steppe beyond the permanent settlement.
Dorian reached the Circle to find the Elders already waiting. A huge fire burned before the stones, far larger than any cooking or ritual fire he had seen in Tavra Sol. Behind it, the bronze gong hung from the raised platform.
Elder Mother Elasya stepped forward. “The Mother called you.”
“She did.” Dorian looked around the Circle. “She asked me to tell you that the Great Sun and the Loteri Lands have blessed her with a daughter.”
For one moment, nobody moved. Then Elasya lifted both hands. Two Elders approached the fire carrying bowls. One held bright blue powder, the other copper.
They threw both into the flames.
Blue and copper fire erupted upwards, twisting around each other as it climbed. The two colours intertwined above the Circle. They kept rising, far beyond any natural flame, until they stood high over Tavra Sol. People nearby stopped. Mirrors lifted. Those outside the Circle began dropping to their knees.
Elasya looked back at Dorian. “There was more?”
“Yes.” His mouth twitched. “She said you may chant now, if you want.”
Elasya reached for the gong striker. Dorian suspected the Mother was about to regret that permission.
By the time Dorian left the Circle, chanting had spread across Tavra Sol. Blue and copper still twisted high above the settlement. Sacred bud smoke drifted between the tents. People laughed, cried, embraced and lifted mirrors towards the sky.
Then shouting cut through the celebration.
Dorian stopped.
Four warriors were forcing a prisoner through the crowd. His arms were tied behind his back.
The creature was tall and broad, upright but far more animal than human. Spotted golden-brown fur covered his body. A dark, coarse mane ran down his neck between large rounded ears. His heavy muzzle showed sharp teeth. Battered leather armour covered his torso.
A warrior shoved him forward.
The creature twisted hard enough to drag another sideways, then snapped his head round and growled. People moved quickly out of the way. Parents pulled children closer. The chanting faltered as whispers passed through the crowd.
Everyone seemed to know what he was.
Except Dorian.
He looked at his escort, the two young Loteri still following him. “What is that?”
“A Hyelot,” one said.
The warriors forced the prisoner towards the Elders’ tent. He resisted again before three of them shoved him inside. The last warrior followed, dragging the Hyelot’s heavy curved knife through the dust.
“They are wild folk. Not friends of the Loteri,” the other added. “But he should not be here. Their land, Pustka, is sealed.”
“And yet.” Dorian watched the tent flap fall.
His escort exchanged a look. But neither of them had an answer.
For once, Dorian did not find the Loteri’s precautions excessive.
By late afternoon, Dorian was back in his tent. Tavra Sol had become exhausting. His escort had done an excellent job, but there were limits to how many blessings, predictions and questions one man could tolerate.
He ate, checked the routes in his memory, then cleaned and polished his brass arm until the metal shone.
Order restored.
Dorian packed his pipe with sacred bud. After the first draw, he opened the small pouch of rare Forest shrooms he had brought from Mossgrove.
The Mother had released him from duty. Technically, this was responsible timing.
Liana came to his tent without an invitation.
Muffled chanting passed through the canvas in a slow, steady rhythm. Dorian looked up from the sleeping mat. Lamplight caught the pale linen of Liana’s long tunic. She carried a wreath of pale flowers. He recognised the ritual. That alone should have warned him.
She came closer, bent and placed the wreath on his head. “I choose you for tonight.”
Dorian stared at her. “I assume Witness of the Pact is more appealing than merely Walker.”
He shifted back slightly. “This is an exceptionally terrible idea.”
“I know.” Liana laughed.
He opened his mouth. She kissed him before he could continue. Her mouth tasted faintly of sacred bud. When she pulled back, one hand remained against his neck. “You may stop explaining why.”
“Liana. Think again.”
“I did. Still yes.”
Dorian laughed quietly. “Stubborn Loteri.”
Then he pulled her back and kissed her properly. He drew her down onto the mat with him, loosened her tunic and kissed the tanned skin beneath. Smoke lingered in her hair. His mouth travelled along her collarbone, then lower.
Liana pushed his shirt open. The familiar scent of clean machine oil clung faintly to his skin. Her hands moved over his ribs and stomach. She had touched him before, but there had been no desire in it. Only survival.
This was different.
Her fingers traced an old scar, then brushed his nipples. Dorian exhaled sharply. Liana did it again.
“You appear pleased with yourself.”
“I am.” Her hand moved lower and closed around his erection.
Dorian stopped talking. That pleased her even more. He let her stroke him for a while, then caught her hand and kissed it. “My turn.”
She laughed when he pushed her onto her back.
Dorian kissed his way down her stomach and between her thighs. Her skin was warmer there, softer than the wind-roughened skin above. She was already wet. His fingers found her first, then his mouth.
Liana’s hand tightened in his hair. Her hips moved towards him, her thighs closing around his shoulders when he found the right rhythm.
“Dorian.” Her breathing broke. Her body clenched around his fingers, then softened. Dorian thought she had come. Probably. The shrooms were beginning to make timing unreliable.
Before he could decide, Liana pulled him up and pushed him onto his back. “My turn.”
Apparently there were turns after all.
She climbed over him and guided him inside her. Liana lowered herself slowly. Dorian held her waist and watched her face until she settled around him. Then she moved.
For a while there was nothing complicated about it. Her hands on his chest. Her thighs against his hips. The steady rhythm between them. The sharp herbal scent in her hair whenever she leaned over him.
Beyond the canvas, the Loteri continued their chant for the Mother and the daughter growing inside her.
Then the shrooms hit properly.
Something changed beneath his hands.
Her breasts felt fuller. Her weight heavier. Red hair slipped loose from the braid and darkened into thick curls along her shoulders. Her skin softened beneath his hands, paling towards milk-white. Freckles spread across her chest and shoulders. Her amber eyes shifted towards hazel.
He knew something was wrong. The thought came from very far away.
Liana’s face changed with the lamplight until another woman looked down at him.
Lorenna.
The careful part of Dorian simply failed. He caught her against his chest and thrust up hard.
Deep.
Once.
Again.
“Lorenna.” He came with the name torn out of him.
Reality returned slowly.
Canvas. Lamplight. Muffled chanting outside. The wreath. Liana remained astride his hips, breathing hard. The amusement was still there, but now she was studying him. Her gaze settled on his unfocused eyes for a long second.
“Who is Lorenna?”
Dorian said nothing.
Liana looked at him once more, then let out a short breath that might have been a laugh. Whatever answer she wanted, she was apparently prepared to wait.
Then another thought cut through the haze. He was still not certain Liana had come. That, at least, was a problem he understood. He caught her around the waist and rolled her onto her back.
Liana laughed. “Dorian.”
He kissed her once, then moved between her thighs again, supporting one of her legs against his shoulder and opening her wider. “May I?”
“Do not stop.” Her breathing was already ragged.
This time he gathered what remained of his concentration. The shrooms were not helping. His fingers found her, sliding in and out in a hard, fast rhythm while his mouth kissed her inner thighs. Liana’s breath shortened almost at once. Her body pulsed around his fingers.
There.
Certain.
Liana lost control for a moment, thighs tightening around him before she softened again.
He gave her barely enough time to breathe.
“You are very determined,” she managed.
Dorian ignored that. He changed the rhythm, slower for several strokes, then harder when her hips began moving towards his hand again.
The next one came harder. Liana shifted away once and Dorian stopped immediately.
“Don’t you dare stop.” Her fingers dug into his arms.
“Easy. You’re bruising me,” Dorian whispered.
He bent back between her thighs. Her back lifted from the mat. A broken sound escaped her, followed by a sudden rush of wetness over his hand and hips.
Then she collapsed. Dorian stayed where he was until the trembling stopped.
Later, Liana lay staring at the canvas roof while he cleaned them both with a cloth. Outside, Tavra Sol remained awake. The chanting had quietened but not stopped.
The wreath had slipped halfway off Dorian’s head, pale petals stuck in his hair.
“You are still not going to tell me who Lorenna is?”
“My stepsister.”
Liana turned her head and stared at him. Dorian had never told her he had one. He waited for the obvious question. The question reached her face and stopped there. She did not ask.
Dorian made a private note never to mix sacred bud and shrooms again. The experiment had produced sufficient evidence.
He pulled the blanket over them. Liana moved closer beneath it.
Neither of them mentioned that she stayed.