33. The Feast of the Frozen (Adranaya)¶
Dunvirmak had always been Adra’s favorite holiday. As a child, she’d loved the shadow-puppets and the gifts and the spiced sweetbeer, served only on that day. Who wouldn’t? But the thing she’d looked forward to all year was the lantern ceremony. The Kizdesh Council of Elders—with generous donations from families like hers—put on a spectacular display for the whole city. Just after sundown, citizens would gather on the shores of the lake as thousands of paper lanterns shaped like birds were set alight and released. The water mirrored their glowing ascent until they burst into flame and fluttered down in a rain of embers.
This year would be her first Dunvirmak away from home. Despite everything that had happened, she wished she could be there, watching the majesty unfold with her family. But she doubted she’d ever share it with them again.
Thelenza’s version of Dunvirmak was on a different scale. Rather than a contemplative ritual around a lake, Thelenza’s lanterns were launched throughout the entire city, by elites and ordinary citizens alike. Some were big enough to float all the way to the Eyewall before the wind seized them and turned them into brief, spectacular streaks of flame.
The meaning of the holiday had evolved over time. In cosmopolitan places like Thelenza, Dunvirmak was more of a time to celebrate with friends and family than a religious event. But, like so much of Sarmalan culture, it had its genesis in the demonization of another culture—literally, in this case. In Old Sarmalic, the word “Dunvirmak” meant “The Feast of the Frozen”. It commemorated the victory of the Holy Protectors of Sarmala, the Ilahin, who had sacrificed themselves to defeat Grandmother. Before meeting Vaye, Adra hadn’t understood how that perspective felt to Anashim.
That was why she and Gadarien were standing on the roof of the School, each holding a warm loaf of traditional Anashi halvash. Vaye had waxed poetic about the flaky, circular pastry stuffed with raisins, sesame paste, honey, and ground poppy seeds. Apparently there had been a baker in Edeweri who made it, but, surprisingly, Vaye hadn’t been able to find one in Thelenza. Gadarien had somehow managed to procure the bread and charm the kitchen staff into letting him warm them in the School’s ovens. Now they only needed Vaye.
Adra had gone into town that morning to attend Dunvirmak services at the High Temple, so she hadn’t seen Vaye all day. But she’d left a note in the Anashi’s cell with a map to the roof. Gadarien refused to explain how he had come across the secluded spot or why he had been looking in the first place, but it was perfect—completely private, with an unobstructed view of the whole sky.
Vaye’s head poked up from the hatch. Seeing the Anashi’s wariness, Adra realized belatedly that she’d neglected to sign the map or give any indication who it was from. The fact that Vaye had come anyway was a testament to either her courage or her recklessness.
“Oh,” Vaye said, spotting Adra and Gadarien and their circle of candles. She clambered over the edge. “What are you doing up here?”
“Waiting for you,” said Gadarien. “Very patiently.” He grunted as Adra elbowed him in the ribs.
“We have a surprise for you!” Adra said, bouncing up and down on her toes. Grinning, she held the package out with both hands.
Vaye frowned as she unwrapped the greasy paper, but her eyes widened when she saw the contents. A smile bloomed on her face—a genuine, unburdened smile—and for a brief moment Adra caught a glimpse of the girl Vaye had been before that smile had been washed away.
Vaye closed her eyes and breathed in the scent of the halvash. “It’s perfect. Where did you find it?”
“I have my sources,” Gadarien said cryptically. Adra rolled her eyes as he held up the second loaf. “We ordered two. Didn’t realize how big they were going to be.”
They sat on the blankets Adra had borrowed from the meditation chamber, surrounded by the warm glow of candlelight. The sun had just disappeared behind the Eyewall and the sky was easing from pink to purple. It was a lovely evening, cool and humid, with a light breeze that barely guttered the flames. In the city below, thousands of paper birds were already being lit, setting the ever-present veil of clouds aglow.
Adra produced three small cups and poured spiced sweetbeer from a flask. “Happy Dunvirmak, Vaye,” she said. “I know you don’t have fond memories of it like I do, but I’m glad to be spending it with you.”
“I think this is the nicest thing anyone has ever done for me,” Vaye said quietly. She carefully set down her sweetbeer. “I’m not sure I deserve it.”
“In that case, I’m confiscating the rest of your halvash,” Gadarien said, reaching across her.
Vaye snatched the pastry back, laughing. “I didn’t say I didn’t want it.”
“Vaye,” Adra said, touching her leg. “Everyone deserves to be treated well sometimes.”
The Anashi put the halvash down and took Adra’s hand. “Seriously. Thank you.”
Adra and Gadarien exchanged a glance. With a mischievous grin, he pulled out a small, lacquered wooden box. “We have another surprise,” he said.
“Thorns?” said Vaye, lifting her eyebrows. “Are we training? I’m not sure that’s a pleasant surprise.”
“I lifted these from the training labs,” Gadarien said.
“You didn’t answer my question,” Vaye replied, looking askance at the glittering witchglass.
“She doesn’t know,” Gadarien said to Adra.
“Know what?”
“Thorns aren’t just for fighting, Vaye,” Adra said. “They can also redirect sensations from one body part to another.”
Vaye’s eyes widened. “Why would you want to do that?”
“Well, it’s about time you learned,” Adra said, casually shrugging out of her tunic. “After all, this is a school.”
“Won’t you be cold?” Vaye croaked, her throat suddenly sounding dry.
Adra smiled as she crawled toward the Anashi. “Not with you here to warm me up.”
Gadarien removed his tunic as well. The months of intense training had made them all lean and sinuous, and Adra drank in the sight of the musculature beneath his skin, the smooth corrugation of his abdomen and stair-stepped muscles along his ribs.
Vaye swallowed, looking at the thorns. “Wait. We’re not making a loop, are we?”
“Of course not,” Gadarien said. “We’re just trying to have a little fun, not drive ourselves crazy. Only two of us will be pinned. And before you ask, it’s not technically circamo, since we’re not all going to touch each other.”
“We’re not?” Vaye said, confused. “Then how...”
“You’ll see,” Adra said. She had drawn close enough to feel the warmth radiating from Vaye’s smoky skin. “Don’t worry, you don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do.” If they were to get caught, she doubted anyone would be interested in the fine distinction between circamo and what they were doing, but they were all adults who could make their own choices.
“What are we doing, then?” Vaye breathed. She was leaning back on her hands, her pupils dilated.
Keeping her eyes locked on Vaye’s, Adra held out her hand, and Gadarien gave her a thorn. She tapped it on her tongue, smiling.“First, I pin you in a place you haven’t been pinned before.”
“Like the roof of the School?” Vaye said weakly.
Adra shook her head and slid her fingers up Vaye’s leg, pausing at the Anashi’s hips. “Is this okay?” she asked, and Vaye nodded, eyes still wide. Her legs trembled as Adra untied her waistband and slid her trousers down.
“Is this going to hurt?” said Vaye.
“Yes,” Gadarien replied.
“No,” Adra countered. “Ignore him.” She pricked her tongue with the thorn and filled it with a tiny amount of her own blood. “I learned this tongue trick from you, you know.”
“Not just that one,” Vaye said with a smirk, then gasped as Adra parted her thighs and gently laid the thorn where she intended to insert it. “Are you sure it’s not going to hurt?”
“Maybe just a little. But I promise it’s worth it.” Adra said. She raised an eyebrow, questioning. If Vaye wasn’t ready, she would back off, but she hoped very much the Anashi would take the plunge.
Vaye bit her lip, then nodded. “Okay, do it.”
Adra grinned, then closed her eyes and focused, drawing her mind into balance. She gently slid the thorn home, its point so sharp that it almost guided itself. Vaye gasped, leaning forward to cover her crotch with her hands before arching back and shuddering, her eyes closed. As the connection took shape, her eyes popped open and she looked at Adra in shock. “You already pinned yourself there,” she said.
“Yep,” Adra said, grinning. She rolled over onto her back, still looking up at Vaye’s face.
“Which means I’ll be able to feel every...” Vaye said. “Oh.” Her eyes slid to Gadarien, who was tugging Adra’s trousers off. Adra kicked the garment off her legs, reveling in the cool air on her skin. Each beat of her heart pulsed along the flowstream to Vaye, their energy rising together.
“You’ll feel everything filtered through her,” Gadarien said, drawing his fingernails along the soles of Adra’s feet, up her calves, then along the inside of her thighs, raising gooseflesh and making her shudder. “She’s at your disposal, anything you want to feel. That’s the real gift tonight.” Adra thrilled at hearing him say it out loud, this thing she had wanted so badly, to become a tool for Vaye’s pleasure.
The Anashi huffed out a laugh. “Anything?”
Adra reached out, languidly stroking Vaye’s ankle. She played with the witchglass in her own nipple, sending a burst of pleasure along the flowstream. “Anything,” she whispered. Saying it felt like opening a cage that had been closed since she left Kizdesh, a cage that had imprisoned her spirit.
“For example,” Gadarien said, “one of my many tricks.” He put his head between Adra’s legs and hummed, finding the exact frequency that rang her like a bell. Adra closed her eyes and moaned, squeezing Vaye’s ankle and balling up the blanket in her other fist.
“Oh!” Vaye cried, throwing her head back. “Oh. Okay.” She was panting now, her eyes dilated wide, the whites glowing softly.
“And there are more intense sensations, too,” Gadarien said wickedly, looking up at Vaye from between Adra’s parted legs.
“More intense than that?” Vaye whispered, eyeing Adra’s piercings with trepidation. “As in painful? I’m not sure I like that.”
“No?” Gadarien said. “Well, she does.” To prove his point, he bit the inside of Adra’s thigh hard enough to make her gasp and curl her toes, digging her nails into Vaye’s skin. The fact that she was a mere vessel for Vaye’s desire, a conduit to be used, aroused her even more than she had imagined. And she had been imagining it for a very long time.
A stray paper bird, nearing the end of its existence, drifted over the edge of the rooftop and slowly passed overhead, lit from within. All around them, the lanterns rose into the sky, some getting sucked into the distant Eyewall and torn into lines of fire. The one above them finally ignited and its embers swirled down like burning snow. As she felt Gadarien’s hands and mouth on her body and listened to Vaye’s moans of mounting pleasure, Adra wondered if she’d ever experience anything more beautiful.
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