//------------------------------// // Chapter 19 // Story: H A Z E // by Bandy //------------------------------// “Again.” Red sucked in a breath of chilly pre-dawn air and swung herself into a hoofstand. With her forelegs underneath her, she slowly spread her hind legs, one pointing in front of her and one pointing behind. At the apex of her stretch, her profile resembled a perfect uppercase letter “T.” “You’re fidgeting,” Hypha said, his voice flat. Red resisted the urge to say something nasty. Hypha sat beside her in a comfy criss-cross pose. He wouldn’t try a hoofstand even if his front hooves weren’t hamburger. He was the instructor and she was the pupil, so he got to sit there and she got to suffer. “Stop fidgeting,” he said. “I’m not fidgeting,” she hissed back. Everything about this exercise conspired against her. The flimsy little tuft of cloud shifting in the wind, the scant air giving her a headache, the cold stiffening her joints. Even if she gave in to her intrusive thoughts and shoved him off the edge of the cloud, he’d simply fly right back up again. He got to fly, too. And she got to suffer. “You’re still fidgeting.” “You didn’t even open your eyes,” she said. “I can feel you moving through the cloud.” “Clouds move. You felt the cloud move, not me.” Red’s whole body shivered at once, and she decided it wasn’t worth holding this pointless pose another fifty nine minutes. She tucked her legs in and rolled into a sitting position. The blood rushed back to her head. “Clearing your mind is an active process.” Hypha said. “It takes work. All the distractions you feel when you’re in the pose can be tuned out with enough practice.” “Maybe I should start with something less strenuous.” “Not if we want to develop your strength.” “Look, I can sit still, or I can do hoofstands, but I can’t do both.” He smiled. “That’s why we’re out here.” Red stood up and turned to get a good look at Derecho. They’d drifted nearly thirty yards away from the city’s edge. No chance of storming off now. “Fly me back.” “Not until the hour’s up.” None of this was fair. Hypha got to fly. Blue got sick sonic screams. She got hoofstands. Just as she was about to make another snide comment, the heaping hooffull of mother sky mushrooms she’d eaten at the start of the session kicked into high gear. As the world dissolved around her, she forced herself back into a headstand, let her legs droop into a “T” shape, and tried not to count the seconds until she was done. All that fruitless meditating left Red with a restless mind and a creak in her knees that lingered well into the afternoon. Maybe this was Hypha’s way of getting revenge on her. Maybe he decided all those times she’d ragged on him and called him street trash and pushed him off cliffs deserved a little retribution. She’d asked him not to hold back, but this seemed a little extreme. She promised herself that if it started interfering with her work, even a little, she’d push back. Red had a much easier time finding work than Hypha. Before she left to scour the countryside for traces of Blue’s dad, she had worked at a pristine cloudstone bathhouse, one of the oldest and most prestigious in the city. Given her rapport with the owner, it was an easy task convincing him to take her back in. A wave of slimy heat met her at the door. The main baths were packed to near capacity with earth pony merchants and laborers. Closer to the ceiling, a flock of pegasi lingered on long wooden racks suspended from the ceiling by metal chains. Their wings dangled off the sides. Condensation dripped off the primaries. Mares and stallions, upper and lower castes, rich and poor, all mingled freely. Conversation and streaming water padded the air with constant sound. The hot water would work wonders on Red’s aching legs, and she had some time before she was slated to start working. She had just grabbed a towel and made her way to the edge of the bath when the owner, a slim Saddle Arabian stallion, walked over to her and touched her on the shoulder. “Red!” he said with a leering smile. “So good to see you again.” His eyes wandered over her with undisguised intent. It was a culture thing, Red tried to tell herself, though that didn’t make her feel any less creeped out. “Good to see you too, Al Bathaa,” she said. “A few senators just came in. Would you indulge them and start now? I’ll prorate your pay so you’re compensated for the extra hour.” Al Bathaa’s eyes moved to her flank. Red clamped down on a string of insults before they could come out. If there weren’t enough ponies in here to satisfy his urge to peep, odds were good that no amount could. “Sure,” she said. “Any chance you’ll have more work tomorrow too?” “Yes, come back any time you’d like.” “Same pay?” His smile could make the algae on the walls shrivel. “Same pay.” Red made her way past Al Bathaa, who gave her a wide berth with everything but his eyes, and went to the center of the room. There, a series of mirror-tiled mosaics lined a raised stage. A metal pole protruded from the middle. The attention of the room shifted to her. She did her best to put her thoughts on other things. Like Blue in something revealing. The tips were always better when she thought about Blue. There were other dancers at the bathhouse. Red might have been Al Bathaa’s favorite, but she was far from the best. Several of the late-night dancers had been working here since before Red was orphaned. One of those dancers was an older mare named Serene Dream. When Red was finished dancing, Dream invited her to take a dip in the bathhouse’s cold pool. “I heard you were back in town,” Dream said. The water barely rippled as she slid in. Red wondered how a slight pony like Dream could tolerate the cold. There was so little flesh and fur between the water and her bones. “You got better.” Red shrugged. “I got more flexible, I think.” “Still can’t take a compliment.” “Still can’t hold down a meal.” Dream let out a laugh and laid her head on Red’s shoulder. Red leaned into it. Dream wasn’t dangerous like that. She knew about Blue, if only superficially. “We’re going out after Ambrosia’s done,” Dream said. “Wanna come with?” “Nah. I’m trying to save money. Got some stuff I need to take care of in town.” Dream frowned playfully. “What if I told you it was a special occasion?” Her voice could freeze fast-moving rivers. Red did her best to ignore a shiver as it shot up her spine. Making ponies feel things they shouldn’t was Dream’s special talent. Red knew from experience not to take it personally. “What kind of occasion?” Red asked. “Like, a certain somepony just got a rich new boyfriend, and she wants to spend all his money on her friends.” “You get a new one every week. How’s that a special occasion?” Dream booped Red on the nose. “You’re a bitch.” Red recoiled on instinct. Dream let out another weightless laugh and snuggled deeper into Red’s shoulder. “You don’t have to go,” Dream said. “But I’m serious about him paying for our drinks. You don’t even have to talk to him. He’s busy with government stuff.” “He works in the government?” She winked. “I didn’t say that.” Dream lifted herself out of the water. Every stallion, and most of the mares, stole looks from the corners of their eyes. The party went down in a bohemian artist colony, which that evening just so happened to be orbiting next to the palace district. Dozens of wealthy socialites mingled with the upper crust of the lower caste in a Bacchanalian haze. Fake jewelry rattled on low exposed necklines. The sound of lyres and drums and laughter drowned out most of the conversation. Servants wanderered through the mix with jugs of wine, stooping to beckon to the guests’ cups and ask, “More? More?” They poured heavier as the night went on. Serene Dream split from Red and returned a minute later with a jug of something dark and cloudy. She poured a glass for Red and urged her to taste it. Red put the cup to her lips, but drew it back when the smell hit her nose. Tangy. Spicy. A hint of char. “Is this Oldovian wine?” Serene Dream squealed and nodded. “Don’t say you can’t afford it, cuz I’m paying for it.” Red rolled her eyes. The crowd wasn’t bad now, but she knew the way of these parties. Crowds built up to a critical mass, then something went wrong and everyone scattered. It was the same in the slums as it was in the palace. The only thing that changed was the quality of the wine. “So who’s your new boyfriend?” Red asked. “Boyfriend?” Dream shrugged. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” “C’mon.” “Okay. He’s not my boyfriend. It’s more of a working arrangement.” “Makes sense. What does he do?” Dream looked one way, then the other. “He’s kind of a big deal. I dunno if I should say.” “Who could possibly overhear us?” Dream tilted her head to one side, pretending to be deep in thought. Seconds dragged by. The crowd grew louder. Red squeezed the cup of wine in her hooves. “Dream—” “He’s a senator. A very important one.” She put her chin up, smug satisfaction written all over her face. “And I’m so sorry, but if I told you anything else you’d be a security risk. He made me sign contracts.” A senator. Red’s blood ran cold. The sound of two hundred ponies shouting over each other dimmed to a low buzz, then came roaring back in time with her pounding heart. “Which senator?” Red asked. Dream could read her like a book. Now that the hook was in Red’s cheek, Dream was free to do whatever she wanted. She rose from her seat, dumped her wine on the floor, and said, “Let’s dance!” “Which senator? Which—hey!” Red tried to grab Dream’s arm, but she slipped away, floating through the crowd. The lyres and drums kept getting louder. Hypha flicked Red’s ears. She dragged in an icy gasp of air. Her forelegs wobbled. “What was that for?” “You were asleep.” “No I wasn’t.” Hypha’s face invaded her vision. She fell from her hoofstand, sending puffs of cloud in all directions. Her hangover, which she thought she’d left behind when she took—partook, she reminded herself, can’t get that messed up with Captain Stick-Up-Butt around—partook in the mushrooms, came roaring back. Serene Dream really knew how to party. “Let’s try a different approach.” He stooped into an effortlessly natural crow pose and nodded for her to follow along. “Now close your eyes again and think of a mountain.” Red’s pose was sloppy, but after a few moments of struggle she settled into it. “Why?” “Because mountains don’t move.” “Your mountains float.” “They float, but they don’t move. Just try it.” Red got as far as closing her eyes, but when she tried to bring a mountain into her mind’s eye, all she could see was a distant bumpy line of rocks on the horizon. “What kinda stuff is on your mountain?” she asked. “Uh.” He seemed momentarily taken aback. “There’s trees. Stonewood trees. They grow up to a hundred feet tall and can take root in almost no soil. There’s mother sky, of course. All sorts of scrub brush. Lean forward and put one leg back.” Red followed. “What about animals?” “Snow leopards. They’re the apex predator. They’re solitary and there’s not that many of them, but they’re stunning. There’s also wolfbears closer to sea level, and clawnose hawks, and king coyotes, and boargoats, and dozens of kinds of mice. Lift the other leg.” Red followed. Her whole body was parallel to the cloud now. She felt another shake coming on and let herself ride it out. “How do they all fit up there?” “Mountains are tall. There’s lots of different altitudes for different creatures to live.” He peeked at her to see where she was at in the pose. “Good, now imagine being as still as the stone beneath you.” Red couldn’t help but chuckle. “Can I think of something else?” “No, that defeats the whole point.” “I’m sorry, I’m trying, but I can’t picture it.” “Don’t talk, just focus.” This time, when the shakes came, they overwhelmed her balance. Red let out a growl and pushed herself into the air. Without any enhancement, she would have fallen right back down to earth again. But with mother sky’s magic in her stomach, she pushed off into a perfect backflip. “Woah. Did I just fly?” “No, but that was a very impressive feat of strength.” She let out a groan and plopped down on her stomach. The cloud rocked beneath her. Hypha held his pose for dear life. “I can’t fly, I can’t focus—what can I do?” “You’ll learn how to focus. It just takes time.” “What if it’s like flight? What if certain ponies are just naturally bad at it?” “I don’t think it works like that.” “Whatever. We should try something else.” “Red, I know it’s frustrating, but true mastery of meditation requires stillness.” “Then you’re better off teaching this cloud to stay still.” She dug up a little tuft and sent it floating into his face. “Go on. Tell it to stay still. See if it listens.” She turned around, kicking up little clouds as she did. Then she remembered they were nearly fifty lengths away from Derecho proper. “Fly me back.” “Red—” “Fly me back!” He sighed and undid his pose. Halfway across the gap, he paused pushing the cloud and said, “If you just tried—” “Either stop talking or dump me off this thing.” He stopped talking. Back in the city, Red pulled Hypha in the opposite direction of their hideaway, to the market district. This part of town wasn’t dangerous, not like it was when Red was little, but single mares attracted unwanted attention, and Hypha was an effective smokescreen against unwanted advances. They wove their way through what seemed like a thousand stalls until Red found what she was looking for: a griffon stall with bottles of clear unmarked liquids on a rickety display stand. Red reached for her coin purse. Hypha balked. “Are you serious?” he said. “We can’t splurge like this. You said it yourself.” “It’s not for me,” Red replied. “I’m milking a lead.” “A lead? A lead for what?” “Information.” She counted out twenty bits and dropped them on the table. “I need the big bottle,” she said to the griffon behind the stall. The griffon let out a nervous laugh and said in broken equish, “That one, very strong. Maybe you want the sweet wine? We have very good sweet wine. Pretty bottles, too. All your friends, they drink this, they go, wooo.” In a deadpan voice, Red replied, “The big bottle.” A pause. “Please.” Red wasn’t slated to work that day. But when she turned up at the bathhouse, Al Bathaa was all too happy to let her in free of charge. With the bottle of fancy liquor concealed under her towel, she went to the hot bath where Serene Dream was dancing and gave her a wave before retreating to the cold baths in the adjacent room. She reclined in the frigid water with the bottle tucked between her legs to keep it cool. Dream finished her half hour and made her way straight from the stage to the cold bath. She let out an amused little hum at the sight of Red. Then Red spread her legs and let the bubble of air in the bottle carry it back up to the surface. Dream recognized the bottle immediately and let out a squeal of delight. If the other patrons in the bath weren’t already stealing glances at her, they were now. “What’s the occasion?” Dream asked. “I’m gonna have to leave town soon,” Red said. “I don’t know when exactly, and I’ll probably have to leave in a hurry. So this is my preemptive goodbye party.” Dream pouted. “Here’s to you then.” She uncapped the bottle and took a long, slow pull. Red went next. The brew tasted depraved, like durian and dumb decisions. She swallowed hard and grimaced. “So why are you leaving?” Dream asked. “If I told you, I’d have to kill you.” “C'mooon.” “Dead serious. I’m sworn to secrecy.” Red mimed zipping her lips. “You’re the worst. Is it for work?” Red pretended not to hear. Dream put the bottle to Red’s lips and forced a trickle of booze down her throat. Then she took another sip herself. “Gimme something.” “It’s sorta for work. I’m having a tough time making ends meet out here.” “But Al Bathaa loves you. He smells your towels after you leave, y’know. You should be charging him for the privilege.” Red laughed. “I need something long-term. Or something with a bigger payout.” “It doesn’t get better outside the city.” “Says the mare with the rich boyfriend.” “Ugh, I told you, he’s not my boyfriend.” Red took another drink, then motioned for Dream to do the same. Her face betrayed no inebriation, but she started to rock from side to side. Red felt it too, a dull haze creeping in from the dark, narrowing her vision and dulling her senses. She pinched her thigh. She had to stay on top of this conversation. She had a plan. “How do you do it?” “It being—” “Your work.” “I’m a mare of many talents.” “How do you find clients?” “You’re serious? Red, you’re not cut out for that.” “I need money. You seem to have money. Give me something.” Dream considered Red’s request for a long moment. One hoof drummed the quarter-empty bottle. “It’s all a dance. Anyone can be a client. You just have to get their attention. Once you figure that out, you have everything figured out.” Red took another drink. She stuffed the bottle into Dream’s hooves. “What do they want, though?” “Depends. Most of them just want someone pretty to have an affair with. Those ones aren’t worth your time. That’s short-term thinking. You need one who you can brainwash. You gotta make them obsessed.” “So how do I do that?” “Depends. I got lucky and don’t have to change anything. You?” She took another sip. “You gotta change some stuff.” “What’s that mean?” “Well, to start, you got murder eyes.” If only you knew. Red looked down at herself. The cold water diffracted the light, casting her body at an impossible angle. “I could dress differently.” “That’s a start. But new clothes only work for a few minutes. Then they’re not new anymore, and the client gets bored. The real way to take up rent in their heads is to find an ideal they like and become it.” Another drink. Red’s stomach flipped. She grimaced. “Become it.” “Yup!” Dream’s voice was getting higher. A fiery blush burned her cheeks. The bottle was nearly a third empty already. “They’ll never love you. They’re all psychopaths. They don’t love. But psychos get really intense about certain things. They believe in things harder than normal ponies. So just figure out what they believe in, and become it.” Red let out a belch. Another drink. “That seems tiring.” “Naaah, it’s easy! Just get on their level.” Dream drank more. A shiver raced down her hooves, rippling the water around her. “Do they have a self-destructive habit? Become the habit. Are they obsessed with purity? Become purity. They don’t see ponies as ponies. They see ponies as collections. Most of the time, ponies are confusing and contradictory. They need something simple to latch onto.” “I could make them latch onto me.” “Exactly!” Dream took another drink without Red having to prompt her to. Red did her best to keep the smile off her face. Dream was snowballing. Just a little bit longer, and she could get what she needed from her. “So what are you?” Red asked. “What’s your character?” Dream’s eyes narrowed. “I’m me.” Red tried to take another drink, but Dream snapped the bottle out of her hooves. When she pulled her lips away from the neck, it was barely a third full. “I’m done changing. Now I just look for clients who likes the idea of me.” A wet belch slipped out of her lips. She giggled. “I’m freezing. Wanna hit the hot steam room?” Dream stood up. Red pulled her back into the water. A few precious drops of rare griffonian liquor went into the pool. Red got up close to Dream’s face. “Got any leads?” “I’m—urk—freezing, Red.” Her eyes grew dull and listless. Her chin dipped until it touched the cold water. “I need money, Dream. Who’s hiring?” “Let go.” “I can be anything he wants, as long as he’s rich. Who is it?” Red phlegm flew from Dream’s mouth and floated on the cold water. She hiccuped and put on a wide, toothy, perfectly symmetrical smile. “Oh no,” she said, her voice all glitz and glamor. Then she puked in the bath. The patrons sharing the bath recoiled. Curses flew. Dream lifted herself out of the water, stumbled to one side, and fell like a ballerina finishing a solo. “Reeeeed,” she moaned. “Help me.” Clarity washed over Red as she stood up. The gossamer veil of inebriation burned away. Confidence flared inside her like gin touching the back of her throat. She was sober again. The mushrooms. She stifled a laugh. Mother sky improved alcohol tolerance. Incredible. Red dragged Dream to one of the back rooms, where the luxury of the baths gave way to the dark machinery that kept them climate-controlled. Pipes snaked up the walls, held in place by metal bearings and ancient slime. Red figured they had a minute tops before the owner stormed back here and fired both of them. Favorite or not, an incident like this would require a great deal of refunds to smooth over. Red had to work fast. She dumped Dream on the ground and grabbed her chin to keep her head from lolling. “Who’s the senator?” she demanded. “What’s his name?” “Heeheeee, if I told ya, I’d have’ta—” Red slapped her across the face. “Who is it?” Dream started to hyperventilate. “I don’t—I—” Red punched her in the stomach. Dream vomited again. Red didn’t stop berating the mare with questions even as she spat up what was left of the fancy griffonian liquor on the scum-crusted tile floor. “Which senator do you work for, Dream? Which one?” Dream let out a low, terrified wail. “Stop it, stop it. Please.” She trailed off into gibberish and curled up into a ball. She spat up something else, something red. The surge of adrenaline in Red’s blood warped into fear. She’d pushed too hard. With a sigh of resignation, she threw Dream over her shoulder and made for the bathhouse’s rear exit. The hospital was nearly half a mile away. The trip would have been an awful lot easier if she could fly. Stupid mushrooms, she thought. When Dream came to, the first thing she saw was Red sitting at her hospital beside. Red had to threaten several orderlies to stay past visiting hours, but the payoff was well worth it. Dream looked confused and frightened, and Red was there to hold her hoof. “What happened?” Dream asked, her voice still groggy. “Bad liquor.” Red shook her head. “You were lucky you puked it all out. I went blind for two hours.” Dream’s eyes radiated concern. She tried to sit up. “Don’t. Just rest.” Dream settled back into her bed. Her eyes flickered, sifting through the fragments of yesterday’s memories. Several puzzle pieces came together at once, and she let out a groan. “Did I—in the cold bath?” “Yup.” “Ugh. I’m so fired.” “Nah, it’s nothing a little body language can’t smooth over.” “Did anything else happen?” “Well.” Red tapped her chin. “I mean, yeah, but I’m sure it wasn’t true.” “What did I say?” “You were being literally poisoned, and I was going blind. I barely remember anything we said.” “Red.” “Forget I said anything.” “Red!” She kicked the blankets off. “What did I say?” “You said your new client was senator Ardentious.” Dream put her hoof over her forehead dramatically. “Not true. Not true at all.” “Sure, of course, it’s not true and I never heard it. But for real Dream, Senator Ardentious? Really?” Red shook her head. “Isn’t he like eighty years old? How do you not stop his heart when you, y’know. You’re an artist with your body. That can’t be good for him.” Dream burst out laughing. “I’m such a liar when I’m drunk. No, I’m not working for Ardentious. I’m too energetic. I’d kill the poor thing.” “Hey, Ardentious isn’t too bad. He built a lot of affordable housing. You’re giving back to the community.” “He’s a nobody. My clients aren’t nobodies.” A sly smile crept over her features. “I really shouldn’t say it.” Red shrugged. “You already did.” “God, I can’t have you thinking I’d ever stoop so low.” “Is it that bad?” “The truth is worse.” Red leered. Dream cracked just as easy as anyone else. All Red had to know was which spots to poke. “Who?” “He has a wife.” “Who?” “One of the bigwigs. Giesu.” Red tried to contain the pounding of her heart. “No.” “He’s depraved. The only thing more disgusting than him is how much he pays us.” “Really? How much?” “Did you really say you were looking for work?” “Yes and no. Mostly I’m just curious.” Dream nodded. “The money’s nice, but the freedom’s even better. I can walk right into his estate whenever I want. Full access. Everything I need to be my best self. And the estate is beautiful. There’s a big open courtyard in the middle with real plants in it, and I know he doesn’t care about that sort of thing, but I love it so much. He likes to take me on walks there in the morning.” Morning walks through the open courtyard. Red’s smile grew wider. Perfect. “Well, I should let you get some rest.” Red stood up. “I’ll see you at the bathhouse when you’re feeling better.” “Wait.” Red saw something underneath the veil of Dream’s indifference. Something scared and lonely and childlike. “Would you keep me company for a little bit? I don’t want to waste away all by myself.” Red interpreted the unspoken plea in Dream’s eyes. She settled down on the foot of the bed. "Anything for a friend." “Has anyone ever tried another way of meditating?” The question seemed to take Hypha by surprise. “What do you mean?” “Like, any other way than just sitting still.” Hypha thought for a minute. “The monks at Shining Rock used to float upside down. But they didn’t move once they were in the position.” Red let out a huff. “What if I just—” she stood up from her spot and did a little stretch before going into the motions of her bathhouse dance routine. She breathed in time with her motions, moving to the faint whisper of the jetstream high above them. I’m a cloud, she thought. I’m moving all the time. “What are you doing.” Hypha’s voice contained not the barest hint of a question. “I’m meditating.” “That is not meditating.” “It is. Look.” She pointed towards the city some eighty yards away. “I’m imitating clouds. Did you know Derecho is ninety three percent clouds?” “I don’t get it.” “Me too. It’s a cloud city. Shouldn’t it be one hundred percent clouds? Turns out, the other seven percent is almost entirely metal. The decorative spire tops, the pipes, the boilers—that stuff.” “No. I don’t get—” he made a wiggling motion with his hoof. “That.” Red paused, poised serenely on one leg. She shifted her weight slowly until her body was parallel with the ground. “Nothing up here is actually still.” She rocked back and went on dancing. “Even when it feels still, we’re still spinning.” Hypha furrowed his brow. “You can’t empty your mind if you have to think about not falling off the edge.” She drew her legs back down. “You have to worry about falling off. I don’t.” Her hips bobbed from side to side. She approached the edge, but each time backed away without even having to look. Hypha seemed content to let Red wear herself out. She danced for three hours straight without stopping. The end of her meditation finally arrived when her knees buckled and her legs gave out. She let out a soft, “Oh,” and collapsed into the cloud. It embraced her the way Blue did after a long absence. When she opened her eyes, she saw Hypha leaning over her. “Are you alright?” he asked. She shooed him off. Sweat caked her body, but she didn’t feel tired. She didn’t feel anything. She was floating on nothing, flying through her inner mind. Spots of alternating black and white danced in her eyes. Puffy white clouds filled the sky. As she watched, they transformed into faces, then fractals. “I’m a cloud,” she said in a soft voice. “I’m a cloud.”