Mercadian Masques

Even the coming of day brought no change in her restlessness. The Saprazzans were continuing their investigation of the theft and murder, but at a leisurely pace, characteristic of everything that happened in the city. Orim was permitted to leave her quarters and move freely about Saprazzo, but she was invariably accompanied by a guard, who never left her side. She could talk to whomever she pleased, and though she spent time with Ha

This morning, in what had become a disturbingly familiar routine, she rose, dressed, and rang the bell that signaled she was ready for breakfast. Having completed the meal, she opened the door and, the guard at her side, walked up into the city.

Unlike Dominarian merfolk, Saprazzans were excessively friendly, even with a prisoner. Orim had several times been invited to dine with the vizier, who questioned her extensively about Dominaria and the journeys of Weatherlight. Orim answered the questions as best she could, trying to avoid explaining too much about the Legacy or Gerrard. The vizier never seemed to take offense when her questions were turned aside. Instead, she moved politely on to some less sensitive topic.

Orim's daily meditation in the little courtyard had reduced the pain of Cho-Ma

Now, as she sat in the courtyard, the sun slowly rose over the city. Orim emptied her mind as the Cho-Arrim had taught her. She let her senses flow out around her, embracing her surroundings. The voice of Cho-Ma

To live is to grow. We live only because we are growing. Even death is a kind of growth. Growth is more than mere change. To grow is to become one with those things around you. All existence-the sky, the earth, the water-strives to become one. All things yearn to be united to one another. Thus to grow is to progress toward a state of oneness, of unity.

Intellectually it had been easier for Orim to grasp this idea than to understand all its spiritual implications. The desire for unity was common to many religious systems. She had encountered such beliefs many years before at the Argivian University. What she found more difficult was the Cho-Arrim conviction that to actually attain unity with one's surroundings meant rejecting the logical co

She felt, rather than heard, a step behind her on the stones of the courtyard. Her concentration broke, and she rose, a reproof on her lips.

Silence enveloped her. The world rushed away, and all she knew was concentrated in the face before her.

Cho-Ma

He stood exactly as she remembered him, one eyebrow slightly raised, his mouth drooping half-humorously. He was clad as he had been that day of the raid-in a short skirt, his chest bare, and coins flashing in the braids of his hair. She could see the fine beads of sweat on his breast, the gentle rhythm of his breathing as he looked silently at her. She gave a wordless cry and held up a hand, blocking him from her sight. Then, cautiously, she lowered her hand and saw that he was still there, still gazing at her. His soft brown eyes reflected all the world in their deep pools.

Without another sound, she ran to him and was gathered into the warmth of his embrace. She heard his voice, just as she'd remembered it so many times. "Orim. Chavala."

She pressed into his chest until she could hear his heart beating. His hands caressed her hair. He knelt, pulling her down with him, and covered her mouth with his lips in a kiss that lasted forever.

The healer pushed away from him, suddenly, thrusting herself back with rigid arms. "No! No! You're not here! You're dead! You died in the Mercadian raid!" She bent almost double, weeping. All the pain of that tragedy returned, as fresh as it had been a month ago.

Cho-Ma

Still crying, the healer shook her head. "You can't be alive. Everyone saw you die."

"They saw what they thought they saw. I was not dead, and here I am to prove it to you." He drew Orim to him, and this time she did not resist. Their kisses were gentler this time, less urgent.

At last Orim withdrew. "What happened?"

The Cho-Arrim leader shrugged. "I was badly hurt, but not, as they thought, killed. It is more difficult for my people to die than you suppose, Orim. We have such a strong life-urge within us. Yet we can be killed, and many were that day."

"Is-Shada?"

"Yes, she and others. We fled across the lagoon to the Navel of the World and from there into the I

"What is it?"

"It is a bad place, Orim." For the first time, Cho-Ma

"Ta-Karnst." Orim closed her eyes, remembering the ChoArrim healer.

Cho-Ma

Orim nodded. "The Outer Sea."

Cho-Ma

"The waters of this place are not as friendly to us," he resumed. "They are bitter rather than sweet. Nonetheless, we dwelt for a few days at the very edge of the Rushwood while we debated what to do. While we were there, we captured a traveler, who proved to be Ramosan. He-"

Orim lifted her hand. "What is a Ramosan?" "A society of Mercadians who fight against the khovoshtvo." Cho-Ma

"How long have you been in the city?" "Since yesterday." Cho-Ma