creating a star-like effect. Curtains hung from the ceiling and walls, and people clustered in the shadows, humping on the platforms or cavorting in the water, often on short rafts, or submerged in cradle-like contraptions. The tanks in here were far shallower than those leading to the outside of the ship, and I surmised they went no further than the confines of this room. Moans of ecstasy were clearly audible, and I found myself turning away and focusing on my feet. My eyes fell on Drusilla, however, and her tiny, bare little ankles; my discomfort increased tenfold, not least because I knew she was fully aware of what I was thinking.
Her hand slipped into mine and squeezed gently. “It’s all right, Simeon,” she whispered. “You need never be embarrassed with me.”
She struck out across the closest crossing and I had no choice but follow or relinquish her hand. If anyone marked our passage, they showed no sign of it. I couldn’t help but see a man with his clothes off, lounging in one of the submerged cradles, as a slender encante with hair like Vee’s clasped his mouth and nose with one hand and straddled his tools. Her whole being seemed to vibrate against him as she slid up and down the length of him. Another girl, with eels for fingers, tended to his blind cupid. He looked to be about ready to burst. I was slightly disturbed to notice that while the aquatic features of the girls were very different, their faces were identical.
Twins, I realised—twin doxies.
I hadn’t even noticed the woman at the centre of the room until she rose from a gargantuan chair. “Drusilla,”—she glanced at me—“you’ve brought me a toy,” she remarked. “How kind.”
“He’s not to be played with, Stella. I fear you might break him, even with your gentlest girl.” Drusilla released my hand, stepped forwards and embraced the woman, who was easily as tall as I, heavy breasted and full of curves about the hips. She wore a simple slip dress of indiscernible colour, slashed on one side from breast to ankle. She wore nothing beneath.
“Such a shame,” she cooed, “he looks so much fun. If he’s not to be played with then why did you bring him to me?”
“I was instructed.”
Stella laughed.
“And I wanted to introduce him to you.”
“Me?” She looked me over with renewed curiosity. “Why? Has he never met an abbess before?”
“No, as it happens, he hasn’t. But I had other reasons for bringing him.”
“What’s an abbess?” I whispered into Drusilla’s hair.
“A madam, sir,” Stella responded. “I’m the Queen of Whores.” She laughed, but I caught the edge in it. Evidently I hadn’t whispered quietly enough, and she wasn’t nearly as content with her lot as she would have me believe.
“I meant no offence, my lady.”
“I took none, and it’s a fine change to have a man speak to me with such respect. You’re welcome here whenever you please.” She smirked at me. “For either play or refuge.”
“My thanks.” I glanced at Drusilla, wondering why she would want me to meet this woman. I was about to ask, when she answered—I didn’t think I’d ever become accustomed to that.
“This is Simeon Escher, Stella, a . . . guest of my uncle’s.” She smiled in an attempt to cover her stumble, but knew I had heard it. “Stella is a former slave. The encante are not the only beings on this world who are less than free.” She glanced at me. “I see from your face that is also a surprise to you. Idele is very careful to present a pleasant picture of itself to the other worlds, even to its own people. But I wanted you to meet her, so you might know we’re not all bad; we do give them a chance at freedom, they simply have to earn it. Or so my uncle would say.”
Drusilla’s ocean eyes took in the scene around us. “If you ask me, spending so much as an hour in a place such as this should more than ‘earn’ you leave of it, but it takes years, and great service. Even so, I
Her hand slipped into mine and squeezed gently. “It’s all right, Simeon,” she whispered. “You need never be embarrassed with me.”
She struck out across the closest crossing and I had no choice but follow or relinquish her hand. If anyone marked our passage, they showed no sign of it. I couldn’t help but see a man with his clothes off, lounging in one of the submerged cradles, as a slender encante with hair like Vee’s clasped his mouth and nose with one hand and straddled his tools. Her whole being seemed to vibrate against him as she slid up and down the length of him. Another girl, with eels for fingers, tended to his blind cupid. He looked to be about ready to burst. I was slightly disturbed to notice that while the aquatic features of the girls were very different, their faces were identical.
Twins, I realised—twin doxies.
I hadn’t even noticed the woman at the centre of the room until she rose from a gargantuan chair. “Drusilla,”—she glanced at me—“you’ve brought me a toy,” she remarked. “How kind.”
“He’s not to be played with, Stella. I fear you might break him, even with your gentlest girl.” Drusilla released my hand, stepped forwards and embraced the woman, who was easily as tall as I, heavy breasted and full of curves about the hips. She wore a simple slip dress of indiscernible colour, slashed on one side from breast to ankle. She wore nothing beneath.
“Such a shame,” she cooed, “he looks so much fun. If he’s not to be played with then why did you bring him to me?”
“I was instructed.”
Stella laughed.
“And I wanted to introduce him to you.”
“Me?” She looked me over with renewed curiosity. “Why? Has he never met an abbess before?”
“No, as it happens, he hasn’t. But I had other reasons for bringing him.”
“What’s an abbess?” I whispered into Drusilla’s hair.
“A madam, sir,” Stella responded. “I’m the Queen of Whores.” She laughed, but I caught the edge in it. Evidently I hadn’t whispered quietly enough, and she wasn’t nearly as content with her lot as she would have me believe.
“I meant no offence, my lady.”
“I took none, and it’s a fine change to have a man speak to me with such respect. You’re welcome here whenever you please.” She smirked at me. “For either play or refuge.”
“My thanks.” I glanced at Drusilla, wondering why she would want me to meet this woman. I was about to ask, when she answered—I didn’t think I’d ever become accustomed to that.
“This is Simeon Escher, Stella, a . . . guest of my uncle’s.” She smiled in an attempt to cover her stumble, but knew I had heard it. “Stella is a former slave. The encante are not the only beings on this world who are less than free.” She glanced at me. “I see from your face that is also a surprise to you. Idele is very careful to present a pleasant picture of itself to the other worlds, even to its own people. But I wanted you to meet her, so you might know we’re not all bad; we do give them a chance at freedom, they simply have to earn it. Or so my uncle would say.”
Drusilla’s ocean eyes took in the scene around us. “If you ask me, spending so much as an hour in a place such as this should more than ‘earn’ you leave of it, but it takes years, and great service. Even so, I
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