Chapter 12: The great city of Cucuteni

He commanded the earth to spread out like a carpet for you and enabled you to trace roads therein. He showered water from the sky that enabled the growth of many kinds of vegetation to nourish you and to pasture your cattle. Herein are signs for those endowed with perception. - Qur'an, Ta Ha, Surah 20:53-54


Zeremaya rode into the walled city with the supply people -- in a pronounced bad mood. It was bad enough to have to deal with any overprotective family -- dealing with a man who had decided that she was not the most dangerous person likely to be within the city walls was an added and nasty complication.

Adding to which that he was the primary reason she had to make this trip – when he had walked into the blaze -- his clothes had burned from his body. This city had men’s shops but he had to be well-dressed on arrival.

She had even tried to see if her 'clothes-healing ability' might be of some use come morning. This was not a slightly worn blouse, with maybe some ground in dirt, his clothes were ashes mixed into a great fire.

She grinned. He would have a great gig back at home at Burning Man, if his magic would work there, she thought. As it was she had to replace the very best clothes he owned, the articles used by him in his role as emissary.

That meant she had one morning to estimate what were the proper costume for a young non-gypsy man in this area, nice but not too nice, figure out how to pay for them, pay, and return.

And, if there was enough time actually, visit the temple and see if there were people there who could answer her questions. She scanned the crowd. In general Karl was just a little shorter and just a little thinner than the average man walking by -- that would make it easier. It helped that she was about as stout and only a little bit bustier than Apriliya, so she could blend in better than in full regalia. Her most important materials were still with her, slung in a bag hanging between her legs, the rest being guarded by Mother Faa, after Zeremaya had warned her at least two times too many that the items in the wrong hands would be very, very dangerous, and not in the way that would make them valuable.

She was able to find a used clothing store and worked through the open racks, getting a feel for local tastes and uses of color. She would then find a new-clothes maker and see if she could discretely pick up what the local preference for "silly young man" might possibly be.

The young woman in charge of the shop was very friendly, to the point of flirting. How kind of you to offer but ----- Zeremaya felt comfortable asking for directions to the local temple. The woman brightened and looked even happier, so Zeremaya made a slightly rushed exit and led her horse down the stone streets.

She had some money, of a sort, to give to the temple and to trade with. She had several beeswax-dipped bags of fermented butter, marked as over a year old and with Apriliya's mark on them. They were hers rather than the tribe's because she had pointed out the passing of the parasites to Apriliya, who was positively delighted and who then asked her to treat the whole herd and the whole rest of the family. She had also examined the various pregnant animals, and sorted out the male eggs from the female eggs so that Apriliya could hatch out only female chicks in a month or so, and eat the eggs that would have become male. Even though she explained carefully that not all eggs that read as female would indeed hatch, some would die in the shell as eggs often do, that was still well good enough for the farm wife and Zeremaya was sure that she would be asked to read each and every single egg until the gypsies left.

For that Apriliya had given her enough fermented butter so that Zeremaya had only actually rode her horse up to and through the gates. Putting her own body on top of that load seemed like a mean thing to do to a fine, cooperative animal. At this point Zeremaya had no solid idea if she was carrying the financial equivalent of bags of feathers or bags of gold dust, and she was hoping that 'green' would not stand out on her face.

Her hair was done in a fairly common style, actually, with the difference that many of the other women's felted cords actually terminated in glossy snake's heads, with a tuft of hair at the end dyed red and serving as little tongues. Up above, in hats or woven into the hair, were any and all matter of delicate porcelain flowers and birds, metallic leaves, and strange, unfamiliar objects. All in all it was a cheerful city, with people wearing comfortable, simple clothing and fanciful permanent decorations -- if you could imagine "late Edwardian" meets "seventies disco queen" thought Zeremaya fondly. The hairdo that Karl had given her probably meant, someone a bit simple and practical, but inside of the lower end of community standards for her age and Apriliya was that sort of practical person to match the hair so she probably blended in -- out of town, but not out of the ordinary.

Zash’s mother had even loaned her earrings to match the dress, and the lighter weight and greater movement startled Zeremaya when she moved her head suddenly.

Some of the men were veiled, but none of the women, unlike the custom of the caravan, Zeremaya thought. How strange to be a dull bit of paper floating around in a sparkling snow globe for a change!

The streets were laid out on a very logical, mathematical grid so it was easy for Zeremaya to find the temple. The temple itself looked like a bank, Zeremaya thought -- not particularly grand or interesting, but with a very welcoming inner door.

Zeremaya decided to turn into a side street and examine the city for a while before entering. Her gaze was attracted by a group of young men, looking as if they felt a bit dangerous, looking over her. Well, thought Zeremaya. What better way to find out what sort of treatment the out of towners might get. She allowed herself to be talked into taking drinks with the young men.

Five young men, one Zeremaya. Maybe a fair bar fight with Zeremaya not having powers, she thought. Yes, I am from out of town, and that shows. They should give me an idea if the people around here are used to guests from ---- way out of town.

After some idle conversation, Zeremaya asked for directions. One of them directed her out to the alleyway. Casually, his hand fell over her forehead. Zeremaya felt magic crackle – some of these people had power. He was reading her mind, sampling her memories. The pleasure of contact was overwhelming – Zeremaya tried hard not to leap for it, starving for contact. Rather than him assaulting her, she had to fight her own nature, not take all that he was offering – and a lot more. She reached out to see if she could heal him, knowing that this would drain some of her own strength. She could hear him gasping, knew his one hand was welded to his face as if she were loaded with live current. His other hand was on her clothes, but the link he’d opened was strong enough so that they stuck even through her blouse. With difficulty Zeremaya opened her eyes.

“Since copping a feel of my power is turning out so badly – I guess you won’t be raping me, huh?” He gasped, groaned.

“I don’t know where you have been! You’re a monster! Augh! Augh!” Zeremaya had a dim idea that his friends were looking, begging her to let him go. Dammit, she was trying. None of them was even close to within reach – he was going to have to take the full load or she was going to drain him, possibly even kill him. She felt him, trying to look for an injury, something to take a lot of crude, unformed power in a hurry, put enough of him back so she could disengage. Her eyebrows shot up with surprise.

“Oh.” One hand jetted between her legs, one on her forehead because her attacker was female – though genetically male, and because of that insanely lucky.

“Be who you are.” It probably hurts to go through puberty in five minutes, thought Zeremaya. She completed the job, turning a tall, ungainly woman dressed like a man into the physical form of a man. She could feel his mind turn over in disbelief, shut down from shock. Not a lot she could do, she had to pour out somehow. If he didn’t want to be a man after this he would have to find his own witch. He dropped to the pavement.

“Well?” she turned to face his friends. “Any more swans want to have a dance with me?” The others looked at their friend.

“What did you do to him?” one asked. Zeremaya chuckled.

“I pulled his balls out and his clit is seriously enlarged. He is and will be continuing to be growing into a man’s body. I’m sorry, I had to use magic on him to break the bond – not nice to pick other people’s brains any more than it’s nice to pick other people’s pockets.”

“Now, boys, or girls, or whatever you are, I’m just here to trade and not make trouble. You know that your friend jumped me. I’m happy to help you to pay for keeping our secret here, but I really don’t have time to ~find~ you if you think you all are a private news service, you know what I’m saying?”

The young men sighed as one, then the clump of them ran away, leaving her with her unconscious would-be attacker.

The city itself had been walled, but the walls were not particularly high nor particularly well maintained. Zeremaya guessed from the plants and animals and house construction that the weather here was fairly severe, and she had seen a great triangular swath of forest on the mountain directly above the city, so she also guessed that this was avalanche country. Any wall and series of protection in an area this cold implied that living people had experienced attack, but the people here were also guarded by their biggest problem -- the harsh climate and fickle weather.

There was a young girl playing near the door to the temple. There was also a pile of fruit available. Zeremaya smiled, and asked the price. The young girl smiled, and told her.

"Pick me out the piece that tastes the best, young sister." said Zeremaya. The girl frowned, pondered, and took one of the more wrinkled, misshaped pieces. Zeremaya bit in. It was a fig, fermenting, and absolutely delicious.

"You look like an intelligent child. I am not an intelligent woman," Zeremaya confessed, ruefully, "I never learned how to read. Can you give me the meaning of the golden words over the temple gate?"

The young girl started, as if she had never noticed that there was any writing on the temple at all. Zeremaya smiled. The girl was probably from this community and that which was ordinary to her passed by without her ever seeing it."

"It is impossible. It cannot be done. Now let us begin." intoned the girl in a tone of great importance. She frowned. "That doesn't make any sense. Hey -- there's writing all over the temple, over all the doors and windows. Would you mind selling my figs for me for a moment?" The girl sprinted off not looking behind her to see if Zeremaya had taken on the task the girl and given her. Zeremaya felt satisfied.

There are those who have been scarred by fear and hunger and misuse, Zeremaya thought. This girl is free from those marks, and does not expect to see them in me, a stranger to her city. That's a good sign, a very good sign for the sake of these people.

Zeremaya knelt down sitting on the length of her legs from her knees to her toes, and even sold a few figs for her. The girl came around from the other side, breathless and exited, ticking off on her fingers the sayings she had read over each opening. Zeremaya rose to her feet in a single, graceful motion and indicated the small pile of coins. The girl considered, and pushed one towards Zeremaya.

"For your time." the girl said. Zeremaya accepted, with thanks. Zeremaya walked her horse to the gate, picked up the "horse diaper" to contain any materials her horse might decide to donate inside temple walls, and talked over to the first window.

Zeremaya explained that she had earned the butter at Apriliya's farm, and the cashier beamed.

"We just knew she had some in reserve, we'll credit your account right away." she held out a hand.

"How do I get an account?" Zeremaya asked. The woman at the window handed her a stone donut on a string, and instructed her to look through it with one eye, "either your left or your right, it doesn't matter." Zeremaya did as she was told and instead of a donut she now had a blue stone with an exact replica of her own eye on it. It looked very much like an Evil Eye necklace, Zeremaya thought, hefting it quizzically. The string still passed above the replicated iris, and there was now a ring of gold around it. Zeremaya passed through the bags of butter and each time the gold outside of the token shimmered.

"Apriliya has a reputation for high-quality goods. The value stored in your shell is my best estimate; there will of course be a more formal evaluation. If there's something wrong with the butter your account will be charged. If you want to join the temple that will protect you from penalty deductions without a hearing and provide you with better service in many parts of town." the woman said, as if she was speaking a phrase she was as used to as breathing.

Without slowing down, or even paying attention to her words, she continued, "Apriliya can take possession of the token and give you hard currency if you leave the area, if she so desires, but the temple charms are valid anyplace under dragon wing, by contract and mutual obligation." she paused. "I do believe you are from outside of our community?" she said more than asked.

"Don't be concerned, I think I'll need to spend it all today." said Zeremaya. The woman smiled. "Then let me give you a complementary day pass." She took back the amulet and pressed a brilliant green jewel into it, where it instantly bezeled itself. "You're in luck -- many people honor a temporary amulet at a higher rate than temple membership."

Zeremaya smiled back. A woman walked up, removed the now full horse diaper, and replaced it with an empty one.

"What's it made of?" Zeremaya asked.

"Dragon shell. Wonderful stuff, takes a charge again and again before turning grey on you." said the woman. "I chose a fresh piece of shell since your green eyes are so rare --- 'cat eyes' we call them. Even an old piece of shell would hold magic long enough for a day job, but it's gratifying to replicate colors like yours -- dark gold at the rim, with all those brown lines mixing into dark green and all those little pale flecks -- your eyes are like looking into deep ocean water." The woman gave a sigh, seeming to truly enjoy her job, handing back the amulet with some reluctance.

"Anyway, I imagine that you will want to stop for a bit, worship the goddess for a while before the day warms up. It's still cold for shopping and the temple is wonderfully warm. We'll stable your horse for you for the length of your stay."

Well, that was a very convenient segue for me, Zeremaya thought, and nodded. Her horse went left and Zeremaya went right, with amulet around her neck and into the temple, following a helpful attendant.

Worshipping the Goddess, it seemed, was not about sitting and kneeling here. There were several options but the most appealing to Zeremaya involved following the scent carried on delicious steam.

After traveling with the gypsies for two months the idea of a steam room and privacy in general sounded like the best idea Zeremaya had ever had.

She walked into the first room, where the attendant instructed her to disrobe, locker her clothes, then lie down under a huge, hot white towel in a large stone basin. The attendant came back in, beaming. The tub was filled with sulfurous, effervescent water that swirled around her body, cleaning her as she lay. The attendant took the hot towel from the surface of the water and soapy water came down, soapy with a good quantity of salt. This too pulsed around, and seemingly through Zeremaya under the watchful eye of the attendant. The last change of water was faintly oily, leaving Zeremaya again under a hot bath sheet, ready to move to the massage table.

She lay down on her back and the attendant removed two huge steel swords -- for scraping down any excess skin and body hair, Zeremaya knew.

Last was a vibrating powder bath that carried away any traces of skin and oil, leaving her feeling tingly and very ready to return to Apriliya's clothing.

The attendant poured scented oil over her head, and smoothed her face by hand, dressing Zeremaya's face with the cosmetics she had seen on other women. The attendant held out a mirror, and Zeremaya admired the results. With the attendant's help she was almost up to the level of cute -- and Zeremaya wished to tip her.

"I'm a magic user, a healer. May I show my thanks?" The woman beamed, and Zeremaya took her hand. Zeremaya's magic flowed into the woman repairing any number of small injuries and insults over time. This also would have a second effect -- though any temple would be charmed to prevent anyone being harmed by magic from within this sort of display of power should be sending people in authority running. Just to make the point solid she reversed the flow very briefly, savoring the woman's hidden desires and, in a very minor way, fulfilling them. Out of respect she did not even allow herself to know what they were, just allow a brief taste of her attendant's longings to pass into her.

The woman excused herself and Zeremaya dressed. As expected there were visitors outside the door, and they looked very angry.

"What in Ballah's hell are you doing here?" was the greeting.