Manaam's hall was aglow with golden lights and colorful robes. Perfumes filled the air, mingling with the sweet sounds of a lute. Large mirrors doubled the spark of jeweled pins, the sheen of elegant hairstyles crowned with elaborately embellished combs. Delicious tidbits were handed round on silver plates, their journey weaving into the dance of polite conversation, of meetings and greetings and pleasant remarks.

Cahuan smiled, slipping past insults.

She advanced through the reception where, in a rustle of crystal and extravagant silks, condescending benevolence was offered to her together with the finest of wines.

The soft light played on Cahuan's skin in quivering shimmers of green and gold, and she remembered the mermaid. Remembered she lived in a vast, open, fluid realm with her friends, who were her real world. This here was just a visit among strangers, an excursion into an alien realm that was mostly a pretense, but whose inhabitants she would not disturb by revealing what she knew to be true. If these humans chose to live in a mirage, they had a right to do so. This was their life, and Cahuan was a guest here. Come to graciously receive all the riches of this world, which no doubt would be offered, and to nourish her home.

Cahuan inclined her head. Her smile was artless, affectionate and, all in all, ravishing. The owner next to her could not help but smile back at her with genuine warmth.

* * *

It was a small and dirty stone house, as dilapidated as all the others in the outer quarter. Debris lay strewn across the floor of a single room, in between an array of empty bottles.

A seven-year-old boy and his little sister crouched in a corner, wearily watching two men who hung in each other's arms, kissing, and swaying dangerously in their uncertain balance. All of a sudden, one pushed away, letting the other thump on the ground. A raw, drunken laugh mingled with muttered swearing, with a hateful, vengeful voice. The fallen man pushed himself up, the leg of a broken chair in his hand. Roaring ferociously, he attacked and received a kick in the guts, which sent both men reeling to the ground in a tangle of limbs. They hammered fists onto each other's head, shouting insults, or hooting and squeaking in animal sounds.

The small girl started screaming, her eyes wide, fixed on the fight. She turned to her brother and began hitting him with her tiny fists, wailing while tears streamed down her face. The boy tore at her hair, jerking her head back hard when she tried to bite him.

Her mother hollered at them. "You idiots! You useless brats!" She gestured wildly toward the wrestling men. "Why don't you do something!"

Her words slurred. She picked up a stone, aiming at her children.

Olfwer and his sister ran for the door.

* * *

All traces of the party had already been removed from the parlor. Only a bowl overflowing with fruit and a small plate of pastries still spoke of past splendors. When Cahuan entered, Manaam came toward her in two long strides, taking her hands. "Cahuan! You were magnificent. How did you manage to do that?"

She gave him a wry grin. "I had a lot of help. Including from you, with your warnings. But also from Yoor, and from Lasa and Lunin. I could find my own way then. So, yes. All in all, I am very proud of myself for having escaped the path of suffering and almost turned it into a form of enjoyment."

Cahuan wagged her head. "Even though I could not often devote such an enormous amount of energy to just one single evening." She considered. "But maybe I won't have to. Maybe now that I have mastered the skill, I could easily do it again. Should I ever need to, which I even hope I might not."

Manaam pushed back a strand of hair from her face. "We shall see. In any case, I am glad you have come out unscathed, and so has our relationship."

"Yes." Cahuan wrapped her arm around his waist, arching back to look into his eyes with eager impatience. "But now what about the children? Will they have a home?"

"Soon. I hope." His fingers intertwined with Cahuan's. "Many owners have made pledges. But we need ongoing commitments, rather than just one-off donations. It takes years for a child to grow up, after all."

Manaam bit his lip. "And we are still waiting for the coin from Varoonya, which might turn out to be everything, or nothing."

* * *

Yoor sat at his desk, surrounded by forms and papers. He paused, brows furrowed, his brush motionless over the paper. Then he dipped it into the ink and continued.

Nin had made herself comfortable beneath Yoor's blanket, snuggling up with embroidered vines and dragons, flowers and fairies. Her fingers idly played with the little linen pouch, feeling the softness of the fabric, the hard edges within, while the rustling paper sang her a wordless lullaby.

Her eyes fell shut.

}}} A diamond brooch crawled across the brambles like an awkward, mysterious caterpillar. The branches were black and bare, without signs of life. Sharp and heartless, their thin needles pointed out into the twilight. A silver spark caught on the back of the creeping diamonds, a cruel or hopeful star in the gloom. With an effort, the caterpillar made it around another threatening thorn. But then he had arrived.

Exhausted, heavy and pregnant, he slid into the pouch that limply awaited him on the brambles. With one last move, he collapsed onto the gold coin lying within.

The pouch closed around him like a cocoon. Perfect silence held him like a great mystery, like the safety that opened up the shrine of the final dare.

The caterpillar dissolved.

His self disintegrated, became one with the gold of the coin, with the emptiness of being, with the essence of life. In absolute unknowing, he transformed into a completely new creature, was still the same as before, yet also the exact opposite.

Slowly, the vague mass of life-force within the cocoon took form, became shape and body. Laughter could be felt, along with a push and a shove and a cry of fury. Tempestuously, the new life burst forth, squeezing through a chink, splitting open the prison. The broken cocoon birthed a boisterous horde of children who flew across the brambles like colorful birds, who clapped and sang and complained until green leaves broke from all the twigs, swaying in a fragrant summer breeze. {{{

Nin turned in her sleep, a deep, endless sigh rising from her lungs, a breath that drifted away into the depths of the world.

* * *

Herun raised his gaze to Cahuan, pushing his cap back and forth over his brow in a restless motion. "You know Yunda has been living with me ever since she fled the cabin. Olfwer and his sister can't stay on where they are either. In that horrid quarter of theirs, in that house full of violence. They trust me enough by now. They would come. And they need to get away, as soon as possible."

Herun heaved a heavy sigh. "Quinetopu has died. Where will his boys go now? We had better have a place ready for them. For all of them. I cannot bear sending any of them away. I just cannot. Who? Who? Which of these children are we supposed to abandon?" Herun shook his massive head. "None of them. I just couldn't do it. I couldn't. We have to give them a home."

Cahuan shifted fretfully. "Yes. I know. We're almost there. Almost."

* * *

Cahuan was pacing across the polished floor, her arms wrapped tightly around her chest.

Manaam's fingertips tapped against the window frame. "I am expecting it any moment now. Including the actual sums." He licked his lips. "Yoor already announced the sheets in his last letter, after all. And it sounded hopeful. Promising. As if they had really made it."

He took a quick step into the room. "Perhaps they truly have touched people and changed the way they understand beauty, from things around their necks to a beautiful world, with happy, healthy children in it."

Manaam took Cahuan's hand and raised it to his chest. "If people give their coin to what is most important, then it will be enough. I am sure."

There was a knock on the door.

Manaam's secretary came in and placed a tray full of envelopes on the table. "Thank you." Manaam hardly looked at the man, so eager was he to busy himself with his pouch.

"Ah!" His voice caught as he fished out one of the letters.

"This is it?" Cahuan came up close behind him. Her fingers clutched his arm as she peered over his shoulder.

Manaam opened the envelope. Cahuan's gaze slipped on a tumble of illegible signs and numbers. It was all in Kokish.

Manaam's shoulders tensed. With narrowed eyes and shallow breath he perused the paper in his hand. He bit his lip.

"And?" Cahuan whispered.

Manaam turned around. A warm light shone in his eyes.

"Yes!" He pulled her so close he took her breath away.

"We made it! It is enough. The children will have a home!"

* * *

Cahuan danced in the snow.

From a cozy cottage halfway out toward the meadows, two more people emerged. Together with Cahuan, they gathered snow in their arms and threw it up into the air until the sun caught in the floating crystals and bathed them all in a cloud of gold.

* * *

It was time to celebrate.

"Aah," Cahuan moaned as she leaned back into the warm water of Manaam's bathtub. Flowers petals floated on the surface, along with fragrant mountain herbs. She fished out one of the leaves to rub it between her fingers. Touching it to her nostrils, she breathed in the potent smell, allowing her senses to be carried away by the pleasure.

Between the lashes of her half-closed eyes, she idly let her gaze roam around the room. Taking in the light of candles, the soft golden glows reflected in the warm sheen of the polished wooden floor. The fire in the hearth, burning steadily, breathing soothing sounds of coziness to mingle with the soft splashing of her bathwater. A stick of incense was sending off trails of smoke beside her, little ghosts of vapor, forming and transforming with the questions sent by the fire, by her movement, by the rising air over the hot tip. Cahuan watched them move, disappear, rise anew, in a continuous riddle, a never-ending oracle, or an eternal lullaby.

She leaned her head back against the bathtub.

There was a soft knock on the door just before Manaam slipped in, setting two wicker baskets down by the fire. He was wearing breeches today, and a wide shirt was that came down in a soft bow around his arms before being drawn tight at the wrist. He did not seem to be wearing anything else.

Manaam pulled a bottle from the basket. As he poured the dark red wine, Cahuan could see the glow of the fire get caught in the liquid, making it shine and sparkle with some deep, half-hidden mystery. Manaam came down on one knee beside the bath, holding a glass out to Cahuan. She swirled it softly, inhaling the rich aroma, looking at the melted sunset inside.

Then, unexpectedly, Manaam linked his arm with hers, looking deep into her eyes. "We have done it. We really have. The children have a home."

Cahuan held his gaze. "Yes. Love has come. Finally."

Their glasses clinked, the sound ringing out like the purest of bells. Together, they raised the wine to their lips, their arms intertwined, their breaths mingling.

Cahuan savored the sweet earthy taste as it spread out slowly over her tongue, over her gums, leaving a softly glowing trail down her throat.

She leaned back into the water. From under half-closed eyelids, she let her gaze wander over Manaam. His dark hair, the single strands falling loosely across his brow. His slim form, to be divined under the fabric of his clothes. His warm eyes on her.

Cahuan knew what he must be seeing. She herself had noticed the effect of the candlelight, of the reddish glow from the fire, on her appearance. She seemed to be made of gold. The green in her skin had become almost invisible in this light, had turned into mere shades of darkness, into hues of shadow and jade alternating with the richness of molten iron, of glowing embers, of the sun near the horizon. Her butterfly skin shimmered and glittered in the dark, catching the sparks of fire around her.

Manaam's gaze roamed over her face, her naked arms. The reflections of candlelight on the surface of the water, between the floating petals, hiding and revealing some of the secrets that lay in the depths.

He leaned in slowly, letting his lips rest on Cahuan's for a moment, then kissed her, softly, warmly. He tasted of wine, just as she did, and she savored his touch, his sensuous presence.

"You are a gift," she whispered when he withdrew.

"So are you." His voice was low. He let his eyes linger on her face for a moment more before he said, "No. Much more than that. You are a goddess, really. In very thin disguise." He murmured into her ear. "But I have seen through you. You dwell in the heavens, or perhaps in the seas, and you have come to earth now to spread love to those in need. And you are doing it very effectively."

Cahuan chuckled softly. "Yes. I surely am. With the help of my humble servants." She solemnly turned toward him and kissed a blessing onto his brow.

"Hmm." Manaam's eyes held a secret smile. "I believe today is the day of the goddess. Time for a ceremony."

He turned around to the basket. His hand came back covered in a mitten, which he drenched in the tub. He touched it to a piece of scented soap, then began to massage Cahuan's fingers. Softly pulling her arm down to the water, he dipped the mitten into it again and again, always coming up warm and wet, and wrapped it around her hand, rubbing her palm, gently pulling out her fingers, pressing and stroking, coaxing a hundred tiny muscles to soften under his caress. Slowly, he moved on toward her wrist, her arm, her elbow. Cahuan leaned back against the tub and melted into the warmth of the water, the glow of the room, the tender persistence of his touch. She sighed. "Oh, very good."

Manaam looked at her, a pleased smile on his face. Leisurely, he worked his way up one arm, then the other. He pulled up her foot, rubbing every toe, every fragile bone, every sensitive spot on the sole. With great deliberation, he let a trail of well-being spread up her ankle, her round calf, her muscled thigh. And another leg, glowing golden in the firelight, growing warm and heavy with pleasure and release under his touch. Finally sinking back down into the waters.

Manaam leaned in over Cahuan.

Her eyes flickered half-open, holding his before they roamed down over his chest. His shirt was half-soaked and clung to his body in places, becoming transparent with moisture. As Manaam moved before her, the cleft at the top of his shirt fell open, then closed again, revealing and hiding him from her gaze, letting her see and not see his bare chest, his lean body, his tender skin.

"Hmm," she hummed. "I think I can see a reason to stay awake. And to not close my eyes quite so much." She raised her hand to his neck, tracing the collar of his shirt and coming down toward the front.

Manaam caught her hand. He brought it to his lips and kissed her fingertips. "You are quite welcome to keep your eyes open," he murmured. "But other than that, I suggest that you truly just give in this time. Let me spoil you. Lean back and do nothing, nothing at all. If you would like that? For tonight." He looked at her searchingly.

Cahuan held his gaze. Then she nodded and smiled. She gave his shirt a rueful look and a little tug, just once, just lightly. But clear enough. As she sank back into the tub, Manaam pulled free of his sodden top.

He dipped the mitten in warm water again and began to rub Cahuan's neck and shoulders. She tilted her head back. The fabric was coarse and soft at the same time, and the warmth on her neck delicious. As was Manaam's touch. She sighed with pleasure as he moved his caresses along her collarbones, down over her heart, and around her full round breasts, pushing their weight up, letting it slowly come down again as he worked around them in soft, purposeful circles. His massage moved underwater as he caressed her waist and belly, always with the same deliberate, firm but gentle moves, the same coaxing, reassuring pressure of touch that made all tension or reserve leave her body.

"Come to me," Manaam breathed, and she leaned forward into a wet half-embrace that left her back bare.

Manaam's hand moved over her muscles with soft pressure and unending generosity. With his other arm, he held her close, his head against hers. He murmured something soft, unintelligible into her hair. Then, slowly, he drew back. Reaching behind him, he came up with a huge towel, and dabbed its corner invitingly on her shoulder.

Cahuan smiled, and consented to waking up enough to stand up in the tub and allow the towel to be wrapped around her. She stepped out into his arms, humming as he caressed her through the lush fabric, rubbing her dry.

Manaam pulled her over to the fire, and Cahuan willingly sank down onto the mat, her belly pressing into the sheet, her face turned toward the crackling flames.

She could hear Manaam rummage behind her. Then she felt it.

Warmlings, of a special kind.

Round and even, like large pebbles polished by a stream for ages, perfectly smooth and heated to just the right temperature.

Manaam placed them very deliberately on one carefully chosen spot after the other along her back. Cahuan sighed. They were warm, very warm, and as the heat began to radiate into her body, it filled her with its glow. It ran not only along her whole spine, flowing through it like the force of the inner earth, but also reached parts of her body way beyond it. Organs deeply embedded inside her seemed to receive that nourishment like a healing. They responded with a sense of release, of melting into their proper shape, their proper place, as in a homecoming. Cahuan breathed deeply, sensing the inner realms of her body with wonder. She was warm and heavy throughout, with unfathomable depth and thoroughness. There wasn't a tense cell left in her body.