༄༄༄

"They say shamans throw orgy parties every Friday," Kofi says, cheerful again, as my brothers and I descend from the attic. It's already the middle of the night, there's no sound around; the water in the bathroom is no longer audible, and not a glimmer of light oozes out from behind the closed door of my room. So Loretto, without waiting for me, is asleep. Maybe it's for the best. "I heard there are hot springs in one of the temples in Tik'al, and there they are, among the steam and wine after midnight..."

"Nonsense," Cale snarls, locking the attic door with a hideously creaking lock. "Those are not orgies, but sacrifices. And they drink the blood of the plainbloods, not wine. One guard saw everything personally, and he was stabbed with a ritual knife after that."

"Then how did he tell other people the truth for you to know if he was stabbed?"

"He managed to tell someone before shamans caught him, obviously."

"And that someone he told everything was caught, caught again, and then what? Released?" Still fiddling with his unfortunate hangnail, Kofi turns to me. "Eli, how do you spend your Fridays in Tik'al?"

Without giving me a chance to answer, Cale clicks his tongue. "Eli is not such an idiot as to stick his head out of the laundry room where he lives after midnight, Kofi! Isn't that right?"

Feeling the annoying, poisonous-burning cold weight of the bag of silver pearls that now lies in my pocket, I end up only shrugging my shoulders vaguely. I won't waste my energy trying to explain anything to them. It's useless anyway.

"Have you by any chance changed your mind about swapping bedrooms for one night?" Kofi asks me, noticing that I'm lingering, not in a hurry to leave. "Tom must be bored there..."

"Or sleeping," Cale corrects, standing behind us. "I hope so. It is better not to communicate with such people at all. I don't even trust our contacts who work in Tik'al of their free will, and this Tom is weird. Smiles to everyone. Eli, don't bring him here anymore. And it's better to burn the bed linen after him tomorrow. And--"

"Oh, fuck you!" Unable to bear it, I turn around so abruptly that Cale recoils from me in surprise. "For the first time in my life, I have a friend, a real friend! And now one of you wants to fuck faer, and the other one wants to set everything on fire after faer. What's wrong with you?"

After exchanging glances, my brothers look at me with sincere surprise.

"I'm just worried about you," Cale says, rather gently this time, reassuringly. "You can't call a friend a person you've known for a couple of months. It takes years."

"And I'm worried that you're not using all the privileges of this successful friendship," Kofi grins, unabashed.

"You make friends in a different way," I say.

"That is?"

"For sex?"

"And? Good lovers are always friends, Eli. But friends are not always good lovers. So...I guess I'm just better at choosing friends than all of you. And don't forget, there are no shamans among my passions, I can see those bastards from a mile away. So what about Tom?"

"I said no. Piss off."

Seeing my frowning expression, realizing that it's useless to argue, and sighing in disappointment, Kofi picks at his hangnail one last time. He pulls with such annoyance that he finally tears it off and hisses softly when a drop of blood appears on his finger. After muttering something unintelligible, which sounds like both a good night and a curse, Kofi goes to his room.

Cale and I are left alone.

I also want to get out of here, say good night to my brother, as I have done hundreds of times in my life, but...I can't. Why, right? It's Cale! My older brother, who held my hand, leading me through the streets when I was a child. Who read me bedtime stories and taught me how to wield a dagger...Who learned to bake carrot cookies simply because he saw that sweets made me happy. Cale takes care of me, protects me, helps me. How can I not wish him good night? How can I go to war against him?

"Do you think I have ADHD?" I ask. "Is that why I'm so inconsistent and fickle?"

Whether in confusion, or in a grin, Cale frowns, "What?"

"Attention deficit hyperactivity dis--"

"Yes, I know what ADHD is. Are you asking if you're defective?"

"It's not the same thing," I point out, gloomy.

After a moment, Cale puts his hand on my shoulder, quick and firm, as if stopping my attempts to doubt myself, and then pulls me to him, hugging.

"Whatever the shamans say to you, do not listen," he says. "They're windbags. Maybe you're noisy and disorganized, but we all are sometimes, huh?" He's grinning. "Well, and maybe you're too sensitive. But thanks to this, as a child, you were the first to figure out when our parents were not in the mood, remember? You could feel that they were about to start breaking dishes. But it's a superpower. Be proud."

This superpower haunts me, I think. There has been no silence in my world since childhood.

"I love you despite all your flaws," Cale concludes and, as if he also feels that I am still not convinced by his words, squeezes me in his arms with both hands. I find myself pressed against his shirt, which smells of dust and dinner, and it really makes me feel a little better. Closer. Peaceful, like by a wall of a long-familiar shelter.

Your mentor would never say that, my inner voice whispers, sneaking viciously into my shelter. Loretto values you because of your strengths, not in spite of your flaws. Not big difference? Maybe. But what are you in the end, then? The strength of this world or its flaw?

༄༄༄

When I'm finally alone, I take a quick shower, pull on a sweatshirt with a lace on the chest that I borrowed from Cale because Loretto is wearing my own pajamas now, and go to bed.

Or I want to go, but storm is gathering in my mind again.

Are you with us or are you against us?

My visit home did not help, only made it worse. And I can't even tell this my mentor because mentors don't interfere in family quarrels... And who does interfere? Ma's anger?

Exhaling into the darkness, I turn around halfway and instead of the bedroom, where Loretto clearly does not dream of waking up in the middle of the night because of my nervous fuss, I go out, onto the balcony, with which the hallway ends.

The nights in Cabracan are quite warm, if not for the wind. The balcony is spacious, but sad: facing the blank wall of the neighbor's house, which merges with the sky, with the street, and with all my thoughts in the moonless darkness.

Pausing by the balcony's railing, I close my eyes and let the wind, scratching my face with cold, hug my cheeks pampered after washing. I let the fresh air, bringing the scent of impending rain, fill my lungs t and wrap its ghostly indifference around every thought, leaving me empty and calm.

It doesn't help.

Are you with us or are you against us?

I want to be with everyone, Cale, but it looks like I'm against everyone now.

The night, mocking my dilemmas, also falls short of expectations and turns out to be colder than I thought. Or maybe the water in the shower wasn't that hot and didn't warm me up. In Tik'al, everyone has magic for everything--snap your fingers, and you have steam in the bathroom. But plainbloods do not have extra aura for such whims, and no one knows how to control it so masterfully. That's why we have water heaters. Stoves, refrigerators, chandeliers... all these also work at the expense of shamanic energy, not electricity, but still allows us to live in comfort.

And the hot water in the heater ran out when it was my turn to take a shower. I didn't dare use magic to keep myself warm in my own home. You never know what kind of shamanic traps Cale could have set up here.

Without having time to refresh my thoughts, but already chilled by the coolness creeping under my clothes, I tie the lacing on the sweatshirt to my very throat. I immediately realize that I acted recklessly and pulled it too tight, almost strangling myself, and so I begin to untangle it.

The lace, like my thoughts, does not give in.

A damn lace. As stubborn as Cale, who decided to save the world from witchcraft at the most inopportune moment!

There is no way out of the game.

If only...I start my own game--before someone else's ends in blood?

Snorting in frustration, I once again try to cope with the tightened lace knot on my throat. It doesn't give in. Damn lace. Damn Cale. Damn...

"I can help with the lace."

Startled, I open my eyes. At what point did I speak out loud to be answered? A new gust of wind ruffles my wet curls, when I turn to the voice, but at first, my eyes refuse to see anything other than the same starless night blackness.

"Loretto?" Peering into the gloom, I slowly begin to make out a silhouette. Loretto is sitting on a battered wooden table in the corner of the balcony. "I thought you were asleep."

"It's hard for me to fall asleep in a new place," Loretto replies.

When I continue to hesitate in confusion, Loretto, smiling, beckons me to come to faer. Fae beckons with faer finger with a kind of lazy, uncharacteristic cunning. Or is it not about cunning? I guess it just confuses that for the first time in my life, I see Loretto in pajamas, and not just any kind, but in my own. Mentor's legs are longer and thinner than mine, and my pants hang over faer bare ankles as Tayen dangles faer feet, hidden behind plush slippers that Ariane seems to have generously lent to my teacher.

"Because there are too many people in this house," I say, taking a step. "My parents are stomping, Ola is playing with toys, and Cale and Kofi decided to quarrel before going to bed. Partly because of me. "And after Ma's cabbage, your stomach won't let you sleep at all. Cabbage is the only thing Ma knows how to cook, and Mom lets her for some reason. You shouldn't have pretended the cabbage was delicious, Loretto."

"But it's delicious," Tayen says. "And my stomach liked it."

I barely have time to get within arm's length when Mentor grabs me by the laces of my sweatshirt, pulls me to faer and begins to untangle the knot with faer long fingers. Without thinking about getting up from the table, Tayen, on the contrary, squeezes my hips between faer knees while sitting, forcing me to stand still, not fuss.

My heart starts pounding faster when we are in front of each other. I'm trapped between Loretto's legs.

Silently working on the knot I made, Loretto continues to smile at some unvoiced thought of faer own. Fae looks at the knot, not at me, and since the table is low and Loretto's head is now lower than mine, I see only faer thick eyelashes fluttering with each breath, hiding faer thoughts from me.

"You're different at home," Tayen says when the lace finally stop strangling my throat.

"Noisy?"

"No, quiet. It turns out that you are the quietest in this family."

I open my mouth to protest, but Loretto, having dealt with the ribbon, puts faer hands under my sweater. My throat is tight again, but this time it's from shock. My quickened heart skips a beat, excited goosebumps scatter over my stomach.

However, Loretto does not notice any of this, does not feel it, but crumples the edges of my sweatshirt with the same imperturbable look of faers and drags it upstairs, apparently deciding that I was going to take it off.

Having found neither the courage nor the desire to resist Loretto's warm palms touching me with such confidence, I play along. I raise my hands and let Loretto take off my shirt as if that's the way it should be. And the next second I'm left naked to the waist, shamelessly and defenseless, for Loretto's gaze.

At first, I feel ashamed. As if it's an exam I'm not ready for. Then I get cold when the night wind bites into my spine. And then, I'm hot the moment Loretto's gaze, though fleetingly, runs over my torso, along my goosebumps.

It is unlikely that Tayen finds something that fae has never seen before on my body, but some thought changes in faer pupils, a spark that I do not have time to recognize, because Mentor lowers faer eyes again, starting to fold my jacket in faer hands.

And now my tongue is bitter, because it's all going to end with goosebumps tonight, right? I'm not going to risk touching Loretto after the awkwardness I created between us at the bakery, and Tayen is clearly only doing what fae thinks is necessary. As always. No feelings.

"You can't be quiet in my family," I say, glad that at least Mentor's knees are still hugging me. "Unless you're a guest. And if you're a family member...being quiet means being forgotten. If you don't get to the juice bottle the fastest, then you can stay with an empty glass. If you don't blame someone for an empty glass, you'll find yourself to be blamed. I'm sorry you can't sleep here, Loretto. My family is weird, I know."

Loretto shakes faer head.

"No, of course not. They love you, Eli. Every one of them loves you. The way they can, the way they themselves have been taught to love. There is nothing weird about it, it's the most beautiful thing in the world." After a pause, fae adds, "And your ma's cabbage is really delicious. It's cooked with love, you can feel it, so it's delicious."

I don't argue, and there's a pause.

Loretto's hair is still gathered into a bun at the back of faer head, but a few unruly strands have already slipped out, and a few more are coming out with a new gust of wind, starting to sway, making Loretto look... lost. Faer shoulders are slumped, and faer my hands, as if unable to find peace, pull at my sweatshirt over and over again, until it's finally folded it into a meticulously neat square of cloth and put on the table top next to us.

"I wish I could remember what it's like to be loved by your family," Loretto says suddenly. Fae speaks in a completely different tone now, quiet and uncertain.

This time, without a smile, Tayen raises faer head and stares intently at the patch of moon that has emerged from the overcast sky above us. Longing glitters in the depths of Loretto's black eyes.

"It's believed that we don't appreciate what we have because we're always chasing the perfection," Loretto continues without blinking. "Because in the present, we focus only on the flaws of what we have. And when everything is in the past, the flaws are forgotten, and only the good remains in one's memory, but...For some reason, no one tells you that the good fades from your memory with time, too. Everything fades."

I swear, Loretto closes faer eyes swiftly as a lightning. However, a hint of tears still manages to wet faer eyelashes.

"I remember that I had a family, Eli. I remember what my parents looked like and what my sisters and brother were talking about. I remember that they evoked emotions in me. Only...I don't feel them anymore. Their faces turned into a meaningless set of words in my faded memory, they no longer seem to be real, they're made up. Made of paper and rain stains, not flesh and blood. And for a long time, I can feel nothing except an inexplicable, dull pain at the thought of them." Fae exhales slowly, without opening faer eyelids. "I want to forget or remember, believe or go crazy, but instead there are no clear images in my mind. There is only either fear or hatred. Or sadness of loss, from which, as from yourself, you can't even escape."

Wiping the wet glitter from faer eyes, Loretto quickly blinks twice. Then fae glances at me as if looking for permission and, obviously having found it, puts faer hand on my forearm. Fae squeezes me lightly, stroking my skin with faer thumb, and I don't dare move, afraid of scaring off Loretto's sudden craving for frankness.

I have no idea what prompted my secretive mentor to talk about faer family, because all my previous attempts to get a word about the past out of Loretto achieved nothing. Is that why Loretto can't sleep today? While I'm fighting with my brothers half the night, is Tayen...burrowing into faer lonely grief? The grief that fae can't even feel properly anymore in order to accept and let go, because fae doesn't remember.

Maybe it wasn't such a good idea to bring Loretto to my house. And not because we are so different, but because...we are similar?

"I don't think it's going to help, Loretto, but if you ever want to talk, I..."

"Everyone in my family called me Lo."

I stop talking. Tayen, without flinching, squeezes my hand tighter.

"Just Lo," fae says, "if you want." After thinking about it, fae adds with melancholic amusement flashing at the corners of faer lips, "I had two older sisters, and the younger one called me Lolo, you know. She said that as a child, I liked to jump through puddles like a little sparrow frolicking in the water. Splash, splash. Lo-lo." And then fae gets gloomy. "Don't call me Lolo, Eli. That child has been gone for a long time. Faer soul died with faer family."

Finally daring to move, I slowly lower my hands onto all of Loretto's knees holding me in place. I hope it comes out cheering, not obscene.

"Then I'm glad that Lo's soul is still here with me," I say.

Lo nods. Fae squeezes my forearm one last time, then runs faer fingertips along the inside of my elbow, up my shoulder, collarbone, down to my stomach, covering everything with goosebumps...and then fae returns higher and presses faer whole palm against my chest. Fae puts faer hand exactly over my heart, as Mentor had already done once, albeit through my shirt, while we were standing alone in a narrow alley of Tik'al, when I chased Faris, and Loretto wanted to reason with me.

I don't know what this gesture means. Sadness? Trust? Trying to keep me warm?

We're alone again. And as close as in all my wild dreams. So what if Lo and I are just friends? No one will take away my dreams, my feelings from me. Me and Loretto...Lo. Nobody has ever called my mentor Lo; no one alive, anywhere in the whole world, has such privilege. Only Loretto's family possessed it once and... I do now.

Who would dare argue that there is much more intimacy in such trust than in any scuffle among the sheets?

Looking at Tayen's shadow-caressed features and forgetting myself, I reach for the hair gathered at the back of Lo's head. I want to unbind the bun, because it looks wrong, it doesn't fit with that picture with the untamed strands flowing freely over faer shoulders.

I stop myself from this insolence at the very last moment.

"Go on," Lo says, glancing at my hand frozen midair.

"I wanted to..."

"Go on."

Swallowing, I extend my both arms. I try to find the hairpins by touch in the dark, but my fingers only come across an ordinary, short pencil. How it fixes so much hair is a mystery, but as soon as I take it out, Lo jerks faer head from side to side, and faer shiny hair falls in a proud cascade, covering Loretto's shoulders and framing faer face. Making faer eyes more expressive, cheekbones and chin sharper.

Beautiful.

"Tonight, at the bakery, you wanted to kiss me," Lo says, meeting my gaze.

"No."

Mentor's eyebrow arches.

"Well, yes... or no. I mean...not necessarily." My first impulse to refuse is replaced by confusion, and then anxiety. Is this a verbal trap? A test? Reproach? Why is Tayen asking? What should I answer? "It doesn't matter what I wanted." There, this seems to be a neutral answer.

Lo runs faer fingertips over my skin again, drawing an infinity sign over my heart, frowning.

"No, you wanted to kiss me," fae concludes. Firmer, more confident. Fae doesn't take faer eyes off me. "And I couldn't answer, I'm sorry. When you and I were at the hot springs, after you"--Escaped?--"left, it seemed to me that you were not interested in anything but Friendship. And tonight at Tres Leches, you caught me off guard."

I feel my cheeks begin to turn pink, but Loretto, without any shyness, continues to peer into my face, studying my emotions, waiting for a response. And faer voice does not sound at all joking, although faer hand continues to casually stroke me at my solar plexus.

"When something catches me off guard, scares me, I...freeze. Not on purpose," fae says, sighing. "My brain shuts down, my body freezes, I don't feel or understand anything, and I can't control myself, as if I don't exist at all. A self-defense reaction, I suppose. Let's try it again, Eli. Kiss me?"

I'm not moving. My lungs are cramped. No, this is not a dream and not at all wild, but some kind of nightmare. The wind rasps hoarsely in the rusty balcony railings, the cold makes me shudder again and again, and Lo wants to...kiss? No, no, no, now I'm not ready. I've been so careful lately to convince myself that I'm not going to get anything, that now a ray of hope looks like a deception.

"It's you. You don't want anything but friendship!" I blurt out either in defense or accusation. I'm stalling. "You don't look at me and you don't say anything. And you ignore my every hint of flirting."

Anxiety takes over my whole body, making me tremble even more. Lo notices this, but fae doesn't take faer his hand off my chest.

"Usually, it's hard to tell whether you're flirting or looking for a fight, Eli."

"Usually, it's hard to tell whether you're flirting or being sarcastic, Lo."

Lo blinks in confusion. "Really?"

"Yes! And who told you that I know how to kiss? You want to--you kiss. And anyway, it's late, and it's time to go to bed, and tomorrow--"

Loretto's hands come down on my cheeks, hugging my face. Alarmed, I stop talking. Without saying anything, without arguing or agreeing, Lo pulls me toward faer and makes me lean forward. My heart is pounding like a drum, spreading the heat of panic through my arms and legs, but Tayen does not give me the opportunity to doubt what is happening when fae, resolutely, defiantly, looking me straight in the eye, brings faer lips to mine. Faer hot, soft, shameless lips.

Something explodes inside me. Probably my heart.

As if stepping into an abyss, I can no longer keep myself in check. Fear doesn't stop me anymore, and the rules...to hell with the rules, I'll make up my own. Lo belongs to me, and these lips are mine.

I lean closer and grab Mentor by faer waist. Tayen kisses me lightly, almost weightlessly, barely brushing my mouth with faer, and then pinching my lower lip between faer lips. Fae sucks it gently, then runs the tip of faer wet tongue over my lip as if tasting, teasing.

This is not enough. I've been desperately dreaming for so long, it's not enough for me! Pulling Lo to myself so that I can feel Mentor's every sigh as my own, I allow my tongue to tactlessly and greedily open Loretto's lips and deepen the kiss. I'm invading as deep as I can. Ecstatically closing my eyes, I explore Loretto's teeth, I encounter Loretto's tongue...

Tayen groans in surprise when I start to press with such a rough caress. Fae loses faer balance and almost falls back on the table, which creaked in indignation, but faer hand cling to my neck in time, and faer legs hug me, faer his heels on my back. It's so hot that I want to moan. Loretto's groin meets mine, and everything inside me tightens, reacting and pulsating.

I'm pressing Lo to myself with all my might, my arms cramping. It may even hurt, but Loretto doesn't resent it. Fae only tries to tame my tongue for a couple more moments, to give our kiss at least some semblance of rhythm and grace...and when fae realizes that everything is useless, fae just lets me lead in this game.

Lo exhales into my lips and relaxes, giving faerself into to my passion. Having relaxed, fae absorbs all my fervor generously, accepting it as a god accepts an offering.

A tremor spreads through my muscles like fire every second that our tongues intertwine over and over again. A mixture of panic and euphoria fills my veins, and Lo still does not lose faer composure, enjoys our warmth, merged in a single breath, judiciously and nobly.

And even by giving me the full control of the situation, Tayen manages to maintain faer unrivaled power. Fae envelops me like the dawn envelops the firmament with its rays.

It's exciting.

Inflamed.

Intoxicating.

I'm going crazy.

Deep down, I know where this leads, but I'm afraid to believe it. It doesn't happen like this! Not with Loretto! My unapproachable mentor who doesn't need anyone. Who says good night and walks away in the middle of a conversation. Who's sarcastically silent when fae doesn't want to answer. Fae slams the door in my face, handing me a basket of pillowcases, when our friendship suddenly no longer seems like something that can be abandoned at any moment.

How can you abandon it now?

Running one hand through Lo's hair and pushing aside a strand that climbs into my face, I begin to unbutton Loretto's--my--pajamas with my other hand. I pull the buttons out of the buttonholes, count Loretto's strained abs cubes, stroke faer velvety skin and suddenly find faer hardened nipple. Lo flinches when my fingers brush against faer. Fae takes a ragged breath and suddenly interrupts our kiss.

"Eli. What are you doing?"

I stop reluctantly, my cheeks hot. Opening my eyes in embarrassment, I stumble into Loretto's gaze in response. So intent...and not at all elated, has faer heart never skipped a beat like mine?

"I..." I exhale through my nose, coming to my senses. I am touching you? But it's kind of obvious. I admire you? Well, that sounds too naive. I want to undress you right on this table and touch every inch of your body here and now? Oh gods, true, but too vulgar.

And Loretto's gaze, focused and sober, waiting for some reasonable explanation, makes everything inside me cringe. I got it all wrong again. Am I still a bad kisser? I'm touching faer wrong. Was I not allowed to touch, just kiss?

"Eli, we are shamans," continues Lo in an imperturbable, almost reproachful tone of a teacher.

"And?"

"We wield magic, tame nature, rule over our feelings, Eli."

I breathe in and out again, I don't like this speech.

"And we do not indulge in base carnal pleasures, but prefer spiritual intimacy," concludes Lo. And then, pushing me away a little, fae give my hand--which is still against Mentor's chest under faer clothes--a meaningful look.

Silence.

Carnal pleasures... Prefer... A refusal? I stare at Lo, and something inside me breaks off with a hollow shock. Probably, the wind is still driving clouds across the sky, and there is still the same old balcony around. But I don't notice all this. And I don't feel it.

Lo is silent.

A refusal.

I've never considered myself a fan of physical intimacy, but it feels like water has been taken away from a dying person now. I feel stuffy and homeless, and restless to the point of burning in my eyes. My body immediately feels cold and lonely, my throat constricts...

A shameless laugh escapes Loretto's throat. And the next moment, the serious look of my mentor is no longer serious, faer eyes begins to sparkle with a sly laugh.

"Gods, you should see yourself, Eli," Lo laughs. "I'm sorry. I can't help it if I know you're going to believe it." Fae straightens up and apologetically gives me a quick kiss on the lips, warming them up again. "You're right, apparently. I'm flirting and being sarcastic at the same time."

"Is this a j-joke?" My brain refuses to function.

"Well...tantric sex is interesting, they say." Loretto sits up straight on the table, but doesn't push me away. On the contrary, fae hugs me again, running faer hands over my back, magically subduing my tension. "But I think regular sex will do for the first time, right? But not here. If this table doesn't fall apart under us, then we'll still be picking the wooden splinters out of our asses all morning. Let's go."

Tayen jumps off the table. Fae smiles calmly, takes my hand and, without hesitating for the shortest fraction of a second, leads me away from the balcony and into the house.

Into the bedroom.

༄༄༄