The Magi Lunations: Maebry's Vision

Twenty One

18th Day of Stag Moon

He eyed my cleavage. "That dress is...perfect."

I rolled my eyes.

"At least, it's perfect for what I have in mind."

Esperanza saw us at my dorm door and made sure to excessively and dramatically frown.

"Where are we going?"

He held a finger up to his mouth as we passed through the courtyard and whispered, "It's a surprise."

We finally linked hands when we walked into town - far enough from anyone who'd recognize King Yohana's fiancee. I'd never been on this street near the river. Picturesque shops lined the walk.

"Come on, we've got an appointment."

"You mean, reservation?"

"Something like that."

He finally stopped in front of a dark shop with a neon sign. I could hear blaring heavy metal music even from the sidewalk. "Bingen Ink?" I asked.

Biltmore said something in German to the heavily pierced clerk, but all I could make out was a name, "Greta Goldberry."

He tugged on the bond, drawing my eyes to his. He smiled wickedly as he ran a thumb reassuringly over my hand. "You okay?"

I tried to nod as my eyes took in the dirty dental office vibes – comfy professional chairs, buzzing equipment, bright spotlights.

The clerk led us to a private back room.

"Are you getting a new tattoo tonight?"

He smiled. "Maybe." He kissed me. "I thought we both could."

Before I could formulate a response, a tall blonde girl entered with colorful tattoos blanketing her arms and chest. She and Biltmore started speaking rapid German. They obviously knew one another. She carried some papers in her hands and tried to unfold them, but he stopped her by switching into English.

"Greta, this is Mae. The inspiration behind the art we discussed."

She shook my hand, "Nice to meet you. Do you like the final designs?"

Black and white sketches filled several pages. They were intricately designed imaginings of Sister Moon as she's often depicted in Magi art and literature. My eyes grew as big as saucers because how could this random tattoo artist know about Sister Moon? Had Biltmore told a Corporeal our secrets?

But as soon as I met his eyes, he grinned, "It's okay. Greta used to be a Magi."

"Used to be?"

She gave a Gallic shrug. "I left. I hated the life they prescribed for me."

"What are your – I mean, what were – "

"I was a Melchior, but I only enjoyed the sketching. Not the nocturnal life or working for other people and certainly not the betrothals. Fuck that." Her straight blonde hair mimicked her stoic facial expressions.

Biltmore kept rubbing a soothing thumb on my fingers. I hadn't realized how tight I'd been gripping him. "Greta still uses her powers, just on her own terms. She infuses her art with her revelations from the stars."

Greta held up the sketches for me to review again. "What do you think?"

"They're beautiful."