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Ignoring the faces, eyeing us as if by the way in the alleys, we make our way through Tik'al's streets, through the typical lanterns' glow and evening breeze, toward one of the smaller temples somewhere on the western part of the shaman city. The breeze is hotter here, and merry voices ring in the night, coming from behind the columns supporting the stone roof and its corridors.

I hesitate by the entrance, but Loretto waves faer hand for me to follow faer inside, striding past the front hallways and shamans wandering in small cheerful groups, toward the main hall that, as I can note from around the corner, is like a collection of huge baths made of stones and moss, merged into warm steam and surrounded by the temple's walls to make it look safe and cozy.

For some stupid reason, I realize I haven't thought of trunks or any swimwear only when we enter the small anteroom where everyone's clothes and clean, folded towels are piled on the benches and shelves.

I'm about to admit I need something to swim in, but as my eyes linger on the silhouettes in the hall plunged to steam and focus a little, I stop short. "They're naked." My mouth goes dry.

Loretto's fingers unlacing faer robe halt.

They're naked. All of them! My eyes dart to Loretto and back to the hall, heat billowing into my face, in a desperate attempt to convince myself I've hallucinated. I haven't. Over several dozens of shamans, young and old, handsome and...not very so, casually sitting in the hot pools, walking amidst them, talking to one another, drinking wine, laughing, and smiling. Skin, skin, skin...no clothes.

"Wasn't it obvious?" Confusion etches upon Loretto's face. "When you're about to soak in water, you leave the clothes behind unless you want to soak it as well. You don't bathe dressed up, do you?" Before I can reply, fae purses faer lips, apparently remembering as I sank into faer bath in my clothes once. "Right. Don't answer that."

"This is different!" I stumble away from the hall's entrance, my hands automatically grasping the front of my shirt, though nobody tried to yank it off so far. "I'm not taking my clothes off in front of everyone, Loretto." Now it occurs to me that except for faer informal robe, my mentor must also be wearing nothing. Loretto came to my apartments without faer underwear. Was sitting on my couch without faer underwear. Whimsical, whimsical shamans...

After a frustrated moment, Loretto shrugs and continues to unlace faer robe. The long lace is held in place with numerous tiny hooks, which take forever my moms to sew yet look very exquisite. I've never found it practical, though I can't disagree they're harder to ruin than a zip or buttons, but Loretto is clearly experienced at unlacing those, because faer fingers are fast and graceful, making no excess motion.

"I don't see what's the big deal, Eli," fae says calmly. "Some people might see you undressed, so what? It's not like it's a shock that you have a body."

"The deal is that my body is private." I should probably just turn around and leave, but something makes me linger. Maybe it's my stubborn desire to dissuade my mentor, maybe my sick curiosity about how far it might lead me, or maybe I just don't want people to stare at Loretto's undressed body either. My mentor is a mystery. They can't see the mystery. "And this is unhealthy and vulgar."

"Your soul is private as it can't be seen. And what is unhealthy and vulgar are people's prejudice."

"We wear clothes for a reason, Loretto."

"Sure, mostly for the reason of keeping ourselves warm and clean. But it's already warm and clean in there."

"Still no. I'm not striding naked."

"Okay. But if you stay clothed and stride in there, you'll draw more attention." The lace falls from the last several hooks on Loretto's robe, and I spin around before the robe flies open. I've seen Loretto walking around faer room undressed, of course, but this is different. It's public, it's inappropriate. And Loretto's my teacher, after all--I'm not supposed to see my teacher undressed at all! People might see me looking, people might think...oh, they might think so many things.

Strange, though, but a couple of shamans who walk past us, exiting the springs, grab their clothes, laughing, and leave without rewarding us with their attention, so my conclusion is they either don't know who Loretto is my teacher--which is doubtful--or are too drunk to make their own conclusions. And they don't even dress up--just head outside. Are they gonna walk into the street undressed, too? I've never been in this area of the city in the evenings to know the answer to that, I realize.

"What actually troubles you so much, Eli?" Loretto continues from behind my back as the shamans leave. "Nobody will steal your pants. Nobody will gape at you, there's plenty of uncovered skin to gape at already. Or are you worried someone might touch you without asking? Then don't. Shamans don't tolerate violence, remember? At least officially and in public. Anyone who can't keep their passions to themselves doesn't belong here. When the memory of your ancestors who were once slaves used and traded and disposed of at their owner's whim, in ways that weren't always about magic, is still alive in the city, you grow to respect other people's personal space and freedom. Even your enemy's."

I swallow, still squeezing the edges of my shirt, staring at the blank wall before my nose, the steam entering from the hall sending beads of sweat down my spine. I should leave, I repeat to myself. Just leave. Has Loretto planned this? As some kind of a lesson of self-confidence or bravery--or as a joke to mock me--because how could Loretto fail to realize sane people don't go swimming naked? Fae has been living in St. Daktalion city for years, for gods' sake. That city is known to be corrupt in many ways, but it doesn't lack decency. Yet I think I know Loretto quite well by now, and fae doesn't sound like mocking.

Searching my mind for more words, I don't find any more excuses to reason except for one. "I don't look as good as you do when I'm undressed, Loretto." I've always been too lazy to work out, and lately, I run too little, and eat too much of corn cakes; plus, I've an ugly scar on my calf where I fell off a swing when I was a kid, and a swelling bruise on my side where I hit the fountain's marble border as I misstepped, gathering Loretto's pillowcases.

There's a long moment of silence. I almost give up, almost glance over my shoulder so that Loretto's laughter at me wouldn't be sudden and therefore more derisive that it is in my head already.

"What exactly that good you've seen in me, may I ask?" Loretto says, a surprised undertone in faer voice, no laughter.

"I--" Should I make a list?

Loretto sighs. I can hear fae kick faer boots off, take a step toward me, then change faer mind and take a step back. "Eli, half of the people in here look old, their asses flabby, while yours is young and flushed. Yet they don't feel shy, so what do you have to be ashamed of? Shamans might be fickle and treacherous, but they're never judgmental or brutal...well, mostly not." Faer voice grows more businesslike when fae adds, "Anyway, if you don't wanna go, fine. But I've already cleared my evening, and I'm in the mood to talk to people--which doesn't happen often--so with you or without, I'm going." The soft rusting of a robe being folded and put on a bench comes from behind by back, the sound of quiet, bare feet turning away from me follow.

"Loretto, wait."

Faer feet stop.

I should leave, I repeat in my head. But if there's a chance of learning something useful to convince Cale, how can I leave? And...what will Loretto think of me if I do? That I'm sheepish? Coward? Weak? I'm not.

Fuck you for making me do this, Mentor. "Give me a towel." I reluctantly begin to unbutton my shirt, my back still turned to Loretto. When fae hands me a snow white towel over my shoulder, I quickly wrap it around my hips before pulling my pants off. "And just so that you know, my ass is not flushed," I mutter, shoving my clothes in the furthest corner on the furthest shelf, just in case.

I can feel Loretto's eyes watching me as I finally turn to face faer. My cheeks burn hot, expecting...disappointment in faer gaze as it runs over my stance? Boredom? Distaste? My treacherous pale skin always betrays me, revealing my emotions, and although now I can blame the heat and the steam, I know my face is going to be as red as the sunset today was.

I, myself, try not to look. At anything in particular. At all. Yet from the corner of my eye, I can still see Loretto's long hair cascade down faer chest and towel in faer hands hiding the most indecent part of faer body so far, so I won't witness the most indecent part even if I wanted.

And from that same corner of my eye, it seems there's nothing of what I expected on my mentor's face. Loretto only gives me a brief nod and starts toward the pools, acting as though nothing unusual even happens.

And maybe there's nothing.

Maybe it's just a reconnaissance mission.

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