Page 26 of Minor Works of Meda

“My father is a government official,” he mumbled. “I don’t know if they would recognize me, or care, but I’d rather not deal with all of that tonight. Alright? Can we continue, please?”

There was still something strange about it, but I was confused more than wary. At least it made sense of his wealth and his oddity. If I had to guess, he must have grown up terribly sheltered, and wasn’t supposed to be out alone at night. Never mind that he was about 20. The thought that he was breaking rules just to see something new made me like him more.

“Alright, then. Let’s go see what these sin-boats are all about. But nothing dangerous. And you still have to walk me to an inn afterwards, so no getting stewed.”

“Yes, yes. I’ll stick to wine,” Oraik grinned.

He was right about the distance. It wasn’t more than five minutes before we emerged at the wide mouth of the harbor. Oraik pointed to a long row of colored lanterns in the distance. Other boat-lights dotted the harbor, but nowhere else were they so constant.

“How do we get there?”

“We row, of course,” Oraik said, and strode without hesitation onto the long network of docks.

Chapter 14

“If you don’t leave before midnight, you don’t leave until morning,” warned the oarsman who brought us over. Oraik clambered ungracefully along the gangplank connecting our rowboat to the first in the long row of barges. He bent half-over, his big hands gripping the railings tightly, each step slow and heavy. I followed more gracefully, shaking my head.

The barges were built differently from the fish-craft I was used to. Each was big as a house, long and flat. Large cabins occupied much of each deck, but walkways wrapped all the way around each boat. Standing on the edge of the first deck, I could see down the long line of boats. Each was connected to the next by ropes and planks to create a floating city. More people were arriving, pulling up to different barges and clambering aboard. I didn’t see anyone leaving, except the fleet of oarsmen transporting visitors between the shore and the ships. I supposed the night was too young for anybody to be done with the kick yet.

“Alright then,” Oraik said, with a trembling cheerfulness that seemed meant to disguise nerves. “Should we go in?”

“After you.” I wiped my sweaty hands on my skirt. I had no idea what we’d find inside, only the certainty that I hadn’t drunk nearly enough wine to meet it. Oraik grabbed hold of the cabin doors, and we stepped in.

The large room we entered was dimly lit with red glass lanterns. Dark fabrics draped the walls, and patterned rugs cushioned the floor. People in various stages of undress lounged on furniture, talking and touching. A woman batted her eyes at us. My own gaze went involuntarily to a lean, shirtless man sprawled over an armchair, one leg thrown over the arm, who raked his eyes up and down the two of us. His trousers were half-untied as if to suggest the ease of removing them entirely. A hoop piercing split the middle of his lower lip.

He wasn’t as pretty as Kalcedon. And none of them burned.

“Have they eaten dreamfish, or is this a brothel?” Oraik whispered frantically in my ear. He gripped my arm, and I pursed my lips at him.

“Brothel, I think,” I muttered. “How should I know?”

“Alright. Good. Fine. Alright. So how does it work? We just… pick… and… and then?” His hand tightened on my arm.

“I don’t know. But I’m not doing that,” I told him. His grip was getting painful; I shrugged it off.

The lean man stood up from the chair and sauntered over. I froze, eyes widening, as he reached out and traced a finger over one of Oraik’s remaining earrings.

“Pretty,” the man said.

“Thank-you-very-much,” Oraik wheezed, and seemed to melt an inch down towards the floor.

“First time? Don’t be shy,” the stranger said with a slow smile.

“I don’t… we, ah, we have to go,” Oraik said. He grabbed me again and dragged me bodily outside, slamming the door shut. Then he leaned against the outside of the cabin, let go of me, and buried his face in his hands.

“We can go back to shore, you know. If you don’t want to be here,” I reminded him. I only half wanted to. If I went to an inn now, I’d be alone with my thoughts. I didn’t want to think at all.

“No. I’m fine,” he squeaked. His face was still in his hands.

“If you told him you don’t like men, I’m sure he would have left you alone. You didn’t need to run.”

“I don’t not like men,” he mumbled into his palms, suddenly seeming younger than his twenty or so years. “I’ve just never—that was—and he was so close to me. He touched me.”

“Yes, well, that sort of seems like the idea,” I said dryly.

Oraik dropped his hands and shook his head.

“Next barge?” I asked.

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