Tales of Midbar: Religious Intolerance
Playing Detectives - Part 3

“But I’m just going to be thrown out to become a sleg!” said Irvis.

“Stone likes being a sleg,” said Cloud.

“Well he’s got Plentari!” said Irvis. “I haven’t met Escree yet and have no idea where she is!”

Escree was his imaginary girlfriend.

“Plentari’s weird,” I said. “She’s supposed to be idlan but she doesn’t look like Criadria or Irvis’s father.”

“All faharnis look different,” said Cloud.

“And she speaks Faharni with no accent!” I said.

“She’s just his friend,” said Breeze.

“That’s what they always say before they send out the wedding invitations,” said Cloud.

“Nobody’s going to want to marry Stone,” said Breeze, “he’s our brother!”

I thought that Stone seemed like a nice guy but I didn’t say that, partly because this would imply that I liked Cloud and I really didn’t.

“Anyway,” said Cloud, “we’re supposed to be trying to solve this mystery. We know that they’re hiding something. They know what Lishrashic was trying to do with Eleprin at the Shrine but they don’t want us to know. What else are they lying about?”

“Lishrashic was lying about wanting those artifacts for defence,” I said.

“The thing I couldn’t identify had protective magic on it,” said Breeze. “I think it was some electrical device but there was a bit more to the magic than protection. I’m not sure what it was. It doesn’t help that I could only see it’s associates and bindings, not what they were attached to.” Then she stopped walking, turned and looked at the shops we were passing. “There’s a magic shop! We can see if there’s something similar there.”

“Rinjac’s afraid of you,” said Cloud. “He won’t let you in the shop.”

Breeze had already started marching towards the magic shop.

The other shops had fronts that opened out so their merchandise could be easily seen by passers by. The magic shop was closed up with thick geodeserine windows that had lots of pendants, rings and bracelets hanging in them.

As soon as we walked through the door, something started making a buzzing noise.

“There’s no easy way to say this,” said a man we couldn’t see, with a northern mountains accent, “I didn’t kill your sister!”

It was dark inside the shop. There was a small, square area just inside the door, for customers to stand in. This was surrounded by transparent, geodeserine cases, about a meter tall, containing many small items, presumably artifacts. Behind these, there was a gap, for staff to walk, and more geodeserine cases behind, this time stretching from the floor to the ceiling (this shop had one), with many more, mostly small, items. Directly in front of us, two teenagers, a faharni boy and a quippa girl, I think both hipsickim, were sitting behind the low case with their arms around each other looking at a computer on top of the case. They immediately disentangled from each other.

“What!” shreaked a woman’s voice with a similar accent. “I don’t understand! You said ...”

“I was being blackmailed. She faked her death because she thought she’d have to marry Taru.”

“Taru,” said the woman’s voice, “why would ...”

The girl reached out to the computer and paused the show. It had to be Under Bet. It’s a soap opera which has been running since the Cataclysm although everybody hates it. Lots of people watch it but nobody knows why. The scripts, acting and plots are dreadful, they have this weird thing of carrying on in spite of actors retiring, dying, getting sick or getting pregnant, they just try to ignore it or get another actor, who often looks nothing like the one they’re replacing. It’s set in this town in the northern mountains of Pax ... Look this is totally irrelevant!

“Did you bring in an artifact?” asked the boy. “You set off the alarm! You’re children, you’re not supposed to have artifacts so we’re not allowed to sell you anything.”

The alarm stopped.

“We just want to look,” said Breeze, looking around like a kid in a toy shop.

“There’s a note here saying, ‘Don’t let the red haired Winemaker girl in here.’” said the girl.

“That’s rather sexist and religionist,” said Cloud, “and possibly racist. Do other races have red hair apart from faharnis?”

“We’re just doing what we were told,” said the girl.

“That’s not an acceptable excuse for immoral or illegal actions,” said Cloud. “Don’t you know your Cataclysm history?”

The boy and girl looked at each other and whispered things. I think I heard the word, “magis”.

“You know if you’re a mage or psychic you shouldn’t tell other people who the magi and psychics are,” said Cloud, “that includes magises.”

“You set off the magic alarm when you came through the door,” said the girl. “That means you’ve either got at least one artifact or at least one associate bound to you. You’re not allowed to have artifacts so one of you probably has an associate. Also you look as if you were born around the time the last magis died.”

“That’s ageist,” said Cloud.

“Excuse me what’s that thing on the top shelf?” asked Breeze, pointing.

The shelf she was pointing at contained a number of odd looking things, mostly pointy or cup shaped and there was a mask and a pair of handcuffs.

“I think her hormones are starting to kick in,” said the boy.

The girl walked round between the two lots of cases, “What, oh these things.”

“Just that pink, pointed one,” said Breeze. “It has a protective associate but also something very odd.”

I could see the thing she meant, it looked like a small, pink rocket.

“These are definitely things for grown ups,” said the girl. “Not for children. I’m not even sure what you’d do with these things. Go and ask your parents! Can you go now before we get into trouble.”

“Can you use it to defend yourself?” asked Breeze.

The teanagers fell about laughing.

Outside the shop, we saw a man in strange, brightly colored clothing, with long hair and a gold head scarf. He had quippa eyes but otherwise looked faharni, probably of mixed race. He had a young quippa woman on his arm who had lots of makeup and not much else. Breeze, Cloud and Irvis stopped dead in their tracks.

“Ardorin!” said Breeze under her breath.

The man looked at us and acted shocked but in a rather exaggerated way. “Hey get away from me children! Can’t I do a bit of shopping! Don’t go getting me into trouble, I know local girls are off limits and you’re rather young anyway!”

Breeze and Cloud grabbed me and directed me around him in a wide arc and then we ran a few meters. Ardorin and the girl didn’t follow.

“Who was that?” I asked.

“He’s kind of like a Love Priest,” said Cloud. “Only for street prostitutes.”

“I don’t like Love Priests,” I said. “What exactly do they do?”

“They control the Temple Prostitutes,” said Cloud. “Sorry, that’s all I know but I don’t think it’s good.”

“I thought we were playing detectives,” said Irvis changing the subject, “psychic detectives. Now you’re playing magises.”

“You can be a magis and a detective,” said Breeze.

“And an anavah,” said Cloud.

“Well we’re all anavim,” said Breeze, “except Eleprin.”

“Yea! I’m not psychic!” I said. “I’m normal and I’ll be able to get married!”

“Psychics can marry,” said Breeze.

“But nobody likes them so nobody will marry them,” I said. “Well Iandris is married but she’s a katcheyah, should I have told you that?”

“We already knew,” said Breeze.

“You do realize that you’re a nibeyah,” said Irvis.

“I don’t want to die a virgin,” I said.

We were nearly at the bridge across the river where Lishrashic had been found unconscious.

Come on you’ve seen it!

It’s built of large, roughly hewn rocks and spans the chasm in a single, simple arch.

“Why would being a psychic mean you’ll die a virgin?” asked Cloud.

“Because I’m not allowed to marry a psychic and nobody else likes me.”

“But you don’t like boys,” said Cloud.

“I could marry a woman but I’d rather marry a man.”

“You’re a Winemaker so you’re only allowed to marry a man,” said Irvis.

“Yes,” I said, “I’m a Winemaker so I’m orientationist.”

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