Talla's Fallen Temple Ch. 16

"After that, it's out of our hands."

"Do you keep track of the men?"

"Somewhat. How do you mean?"

"Well," Sonja said. "Could you tell me who was at Lyric's Camp last night."

"No," the aide replied. "We would have sent those name cards off yesterday morning, all marked as having a priority for immediate Service."

"And once the cards are sent out?"

The aide held her empty hands in the air, palms up.

"We have nothing."

"The cards must come back."

"Yes," the aide said. "They must be returned before noon. Over two thousand of them come in every day."

Two thousand, Sonja thought. In a city of some twenty four thousand, about a quarter of them adult males needing to be Served every three days. Two thousand women went out every night and two thousand cards came back every day.

"So we need to examine the cards that come back today and find the names of the men who are at Lyric's Camp," Sonja said.

"The entire Camp would not have gone on the Hunt, Mistress," the aide pointed out. "They seldom do."

"How do you schedule women to meet them, then?"

"Whenever a group goes out, their Master tells us in advance and we make sure to set the cards aside for the correct night."

Sonja nodded.

"The Fighters are far more problematic, of course -"

"I'd imagine," Sonja cut her off. "But now I'm concerned that we may have an injured girl somewhere and we don't even know her name. Should we be searching for her? Or has she returned safely, unaware of what happened to her companions?"

The aide scratched her head, suddenly understanding the insistence in Sonja's voice.

"Is anyone reported missing?"

"No," Sonja said. "We've checked. But depending on her assignment, it could be some time before she is missed."

"Whoever she is."

Sonja nodded.

"It's too late to find the Hunting party, I presume?"

"They'd have broken camp by now and headed out."

"What of their Master?"

"What?"

"Could you ask their Master for their identities? If there was an especially young one amongst them, Master Lyric should surely remember his name."

Sonja's eyes brightened. Why hadn't she thought of that?

"If you had his name," the aide pointed out. "We could find his card. It's possible that one of the Divisions will be able to help you then."

"Will you be able to tell me the Division to which you sent his card?"

"Sorry, Mistress. No."

Sonja twisted her lips.

"That will have to do."

"I wish you the best of luck, Mistress."

Sonja gave a polite bow to the Acolyte and bolted from the room. The sand was pouring through the glass. The longer she took to track this problem, the more likely it became that the information would be destroyed. It was as if she were following a trail of bread crumbs through a plaza, with the sandals of nine thousand women pounding the markers to dust.

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Zhair'lo couldn't be precisely sure when it started, but sometime while he and Kenji were out looking for a good tree to hide in, he became aware that Talla was inside his head.

She seemed to be idle and cast a vague enquiry about his location.

He showed her, as best he could, relating what he knew of the intended geography of their Hunt.

In return, he was treated to a vague image that he took for the courtyard of Form, where she was undergoing bow training. It wasn't her turn yet and she had a few moments of her attention to give him.

That was when he revealed to her the nature of the morning's fright.

She exuded a aura of calm. 'Stick to the story,' that aura seemed to say. For, indeed, she had told Jenni exactly the story they had decided on ahead of time, right down to the number of times she'd Served him and the positions they'd done it in. If everybody else had passed out, that was nothing on the two of them.

Zhair'lo relaxed a little. He'd assumed as much, but it was good to be certain.

A moment later and Talla's mind was whisked away from his. It took a great deal of effort, at this distance, to stay connected, and once her attention was focused elsewhere, the connection was lost.

The link between their minds was not what it had been. There was a strength there that had not existed before, that much was clear. But there was also an odd tenuousness to it. Though he never worried that it would disappear entirely, the whole thing seemed like a cart wheel that was wobbling on its axle. Maybe the wheel, pegged properly, couldn't slide right off the axle, but no one was really enjoying the ride.

"There," Kenji whispered, his quiet command shaking Zhair'lo out of his daydream.

The older man was pointing to a bough in a tree to their right. He tapped his chest and pointed to a second tree. Above them, the branches of the trees crossed and meshed together. They'd be able to see each other and sit comfortably while they waited for prey.

Bow laced to his back, Zhair'lo scaled the tree and found a place to sit leaning up against its trunk. Kenji was in position well before he settled in, looking up and down the deer trail before speaking.

"You seem to be the only one who remembers last night," Kenji said.

"Yeah, weird."

He could see Kenji regarding him with those cold Hunter's eyes but he refused to turn his head to meet that gaze directly.

"Do you remember anything odd when your girl showed up?"

'No details,' he thought. 'Give them nothing.'

He wasn't sure if the thought was his own or Talla's, but he agreed with it wholeheartedly.

"Nothing except that she was late," Zhair'lo replied. "She said my name and went to my tent."

"You didn't hear anything outside?"

Zhair'lo shook his head.

"I was kind of too busy to notice."

Kenji hummed noncommittally, an overtone of distrust that Zhair'lo particularly wanted to head off.

"What do you remember?" he challenged his mentor.

"Very little," he replied, worry entering his voice. "I was the first to be taken, you'll remember."

Kenji paused, gathering his courage. Zhair'lo had never seen the man so tentative. It struck him suddenly that the sense of distrust that he'd been sensing was not distrust in Zhair'lo, but Kenji's distrust of himself.

"She was from Form," he said. "She started using her mouth."

His eyebrows rose.

"Quite good at it, too."

He scratched at his chin and shook his head, a gesture of frustration Zhair'lo had never seen from him.

"Then something comes over me," he explained, turning his head to look over his shoulder, "It hits me right in the back and then ... nothing."

"Nothing?"

"I wake up the next morning, feeling like hell."

Zhair'lo shook his head. There could be no doubt now what had happened. He and Talla had unleashed something that could render other human beings unconscious, and could do so with violent suddenness. If anyone ever made the deductive leap between Zhair'lo merely being immune to the effect to his role as the source of it, there would be trouble.

'No one must make that leap.'

That was Talla, for certain, speaking directly into his mind. Her turn with the bow must have ended.

'I can only stick to my story,' he replied. 'There's no reason for anyone to blame me.'

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"Mistress Sonja!"

"Yes?"

"The runner returns!"

Sonja dropped the document she'd been reading and came out to the balcony overlooking the courtyard. Indeed, there was the woman she'd sent out, running full out through the courtyard. The woman was an Acolyte, the highest woman in Tight that Sonja could find. An enforcer by training, Sonja had ordered her to strip off her armour down to her most minimal clothing -- the tiny orange top that covered her breasts with a rectangle of cloth and the bottom that covered nothing but a triangle at the front and a thong at the back.

'Magnificent,' was all Sonja could think, watching the muscles of the woman's upper thighs quiver with each impact of sandal on dirt.

A fine specimen she was, in Sonja's eyes. The bare minimum of flashy, cumbersome Endowment was strapped down by a top tight enough to hold her breasts steady as she ran. This was a body pared down to be the most efficient fighting and running device the gods could possibly fashion. There was a glint of cold moonlight in Sonja's eyes as she flew down the stairs to meet the runner.

Having been impressed with the importance of her mission, the Acolyte was still heaving when Sonja met her. Noticing that, Sonja could appreciate why so many went for Abundance upgrades. It would certainly be an enhancement in situations like this, but the cost to a woman's agility ...

"The name?" Sonja asked. "Did you get it."

The woman was leaning on her knees, trying to catch her breath to speak.

Sonja waited impatiently, knowing that nothing would come until the woman could find space in her lungs for words.

"His name," she said finally, "is Zhair'lo M'han."

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The Queen of Endowment looked down from her top floor balcony to the cold, marble floor below.

"Why is there an enforcer of Form poking around in my Offices?" she enquired of her aide.

The Adept, on duty at the threshold of her Queen's domain, replied quickly.

"I don't know, Highness. She only just arrived and started asking questions."

There were two enforcers at the very entrance to the Offices, sinecures required by a protocol from days long past. That pair was supposed to be there. This third one, however, was well inside the boundaries, and appeared to be interrogating the Queen's own Officers.

"Please enquire on Our behalf and determine what questions she is asking. We will attend shortly."

The Adept curtsied carefully, lifting the sides of her skirt just high enough to show a length of smooth, cool thigh, before darting down from that highest balcony to the Office floor. It certainly wasn't for a Queen to go rushing about like that, but haste was obviously required if she was to put a stop to this sort of interference. So the Adept was sent down at great speed while the Queen followed at a more dignified pace.

Seeing the intent in their Queen's eye, a small cadre of Officers followed immediately in her wake. If an emergency of some kind was in the making, they would be prepared to carry out any orders she gave.

It was the arrival of this organically constructed retinue at the ground floor of the Offices of Endowment that brought the Enforcer to a standstill. She had been emphatically gesturing to the women around her and froze when she saw the woman in the flowing red dress stalking towards her.

"Is Our assistance required for some great deed?" the Queen of Endowment wondered aloud, letting irony load up every word.

The fully leathered woman removed her helm and bowed.

"Highness," she stammered. "We believe a young woman may be missing, but we are unsure of her name."

The Queen glowered.

"A missing woman without a name?"

"We believe twelve women and twelve men were struck unconscious last night," the enforcer explained, getting her feet under her. "We have identified all of the men and eleven of the women. All of those are safe and apparently healthy."

"But the twelfth woman?"

"She remains unidentified. We don't even know which Division sent her. She may have gotten back safely already, or she could be out there, still unconscious."

The Queen paused only a moment.

"What do you need of us?"

"We know the name of the man she Served," the enforcer said. "We ask that you search your records to see if any of your disciples Served him."

By this time, the crowd around the enforcer had grown. The Sorceress of Abundance herself had made it to the floor from wherever she had been.

"This is possible?" the Queen asked, directing her eyes at the Sorceress.

Abundance merely turned to her side.

"Pril?"

"Yes, Mistress. Highness," the nervous Officer bowed. "It will take some searching, but we do track the men by name so that the same woman doesn't get sent to him repeatedly. Protocol, naturally."

The Queen nodded.

"Be about it, then," she said. "Let's see our sister safely home, whoever she is."

Pril gave a quick bow.

"We'll just need his name, then."

Her next words caused several stomachs to lurch.

"Zhair'lo M'han."

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"Zhair'lo M'han?"

"Yes, Imminence."

"Madra Zen, Pussy," the Goddess sighed. "What is that boy up to now?"

"I honestly don't know," the Sorceress replied.

The Goddess stood, arching her back to stretch out her swollen belly, and waddled over to a translucently curtained window.

"And where was Talla? Did you check?"

"Quite far away. Almost to the quarries."

The woman in black smirked.

"You're telling me where she was assigned. My pregnant wits are not so addled. I asked if you knew where she was."

The Sorceress dipped her head to the side by way of admission.

"It was them," the Goddess said. "You know it was them. The time those women fell unconscious was the same time that I collapsed. The same time that the Queen of Form felt something so strong she sent a messenger to Our Very Office to confirm it."

Pussy said nothing.

"We meant to breed them. Did we not?"

"Yes, Imminence."

"Do you consider that wise, now?"

The Sorceress gulped and shook her head very slowly.

"It may not even be wise," she said softly. "To allow them to be anywhere near each other."

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Dark haired, with blazing blue eyes, the young woman in the tiny skirt stepped into the small office with a look of radiant innocence on her fair face.

"You asked for me, Mistress?"

With a wave of the orange fabric hanging from her wrist to her shoulder, H'reena directed the girl to a seat next to her. Other women might have put their juniors across desks or tables to intimidate them. H'reena had no need. If she wanted to make someone afraid, she could do it with a glance and the inflection in her voice. She had no need of devices and affectations.

Besides, what she had to say was frightening enough. There was no need to pitch her voice to anything but its most pleasant and casual tone.

"Yes, Jenni, I did."

H'reena tilted her head and examined the girl. Everything about her body language spoke of an implacable reservoir of confidence.

"How was your Service last night?"

"Fine, Mistress."

"You'll have to do better than that," H'reena admonished.

Jenni looked perplexed.

"You wanted details, Mistress?"

"No," H'reena said. "I'm referring to the way your left eye twitched when I asked the question. If you do that when they start questioning you, you'll be in a spot of trouble."

"Mistress?" she managed not to sputter back.

"What was your Service like last night?" H'reena asked, now with the air of a teacher walking a student through a rhetorical progression.

"Quite nice," Jenni said, visibly forcing a shy smile into her face. "We went three times."

"Was he large?"

"Not too much so. Just big enough."

"Why didn't you go out at the same time as the rest of the women?"

"Washing up, Mistress. They'd gone by the time I was ready."

H'reena nodded.

"Better," she said. "But you'll want to be smoother than that."

Jenni looked worried.

"I don't know what you mean -"

"Don't," H'reena said simply, letting her voice go cold.

The black haired girl gulped once before her body turned to stone.

"You are confident Zhair'lo will tell the same story?"

"Yes, Mistress," she whispered. "We always make sure."

"Good," H'reena said. "You'd better be ready and convincing. They'll track you down in less than a bell."

"But why?"

H'reena stood and indicated that it was time for Jenni to leave.

"It's better if you don't know," H'reena said. "Your prevarications will be more convincing."

"Thank you, Mistress."

H'reena twitched her chin toward the exit and the Initiate left with a quick bow.

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Talla had no idea that anything had gone wrong. She had followed the protocol (for she could think of no other word for it) that had been laid out by Lacy and firmed up in the details by Jenni. It had felt mildly dangerous at the time, but once she was back in the Temple, enduring another day of bow training, she quickly developed a good feeling they'd gotten away from it.

After finishing with the bow, she made some quick arrangements with the others to meet V'shika in one of the pools in the central triangle -- the one place they could all meet without inviting too much suspicion. That meeting, however, could wait until the following day.

Today was a day for keeping things simple.

She walked through the giant brass doors of Endowment and returned to her room. Where her roommates were, she couldn't say, so she stripped off her clothes and laid down on her bed.

Her breasts were still an uncommon sight, sprawling there on her chest, cool licks of air drawing up goosebumps and bringing the nipples to stiff attention.

'You're next,' she beamed at those pink points. 'I don't know when, but I want to fix you up next.'

She added, more maliciously, 'If we haven't brought the Temple down by then. Then we'll make them give us the bodies we deserve.'

Lying naked on her bed, free of the distraction of having to deal with people and now feeling the power of her passion flowing through her, she slowly became aware of Zhair'lo.

Her eyes closed as she reached out for him.

There was a reassuring wave of energy bouncing back to her. It wasn't strong and by that she knew that the distance was great, but the connection was there as a kind of rope. Tenuous as it was, and as much as Zhair'lo might worry, she knew it to be anchored in a rock heavy as a mountain.

Nothing was breaking them apart this time.

'Do you hear me, man of mine?'

'Moonlight,' he replied.

Not precisely with the word, of course, because there weren't really words where they were. Instead it was images and ideas that somehow formed kinds of sentences that had meaning between them.

In this case, it was an image of Talla, straddling him with stars and a half moon over her shoulder. That was from their first night together. She inhaled deeply, smelling the straw and feeling the cold water from the well prickling at her skin.

When her right hand slid up her body to cup her breast, she could feel the link get just a bit stronger.

'I'm sitting in a tree.'

'So?'

'It's tricky enough not falling out,' he warned.

She smirked and let the palm of her hand slide further up so her nipple traced lightly across her palm. The left hand snaked down her stomach, ring and index fingers going to her bare lips.

Zhair'lo, in her mind, seemed to whimper.

'What happens if I come?' she wondered at him.

There was a vague sense that he was prodding her forward, so she pushed her middle finger down between her lips. Her body responded with a wave of pleasure which raced out to meet him and reflected back to her. The thumb and forefinger of her right hand plucked gently at her nipple, causing it to stiffen and extend even farther out from her body.

'Should I slide it in?' she asked of the finger of her other hand.

She was about to do so, her finger at the very edge of her vagina, when something on the far end snapped.

Images came at her very quickly. The one who was called Kenji was whispering something. Next there was a deer on a forest path. After this came a bowstring being notched with an arrow.

Talla sighed.

The spell was broken. Resigned to it, she took her left hand away from her mound and her right away from her breast.

A nap was probably a good idea anyway. She'd be Serving tonight and wanted to be full of energy for that.

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Dinner was kept light that evening. Talla found herself far too aroused to want much food.