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Drag.Race, Chapter Four - Tee

Drag.Race, Chapter Four - Tee

Tee felt like her life was coming to an end. She watched, desperately trying to control her emotions, as her mentor packed his things. He’d already donated most of his possessions to local charities. All that remained were keepsakes, clothing, and a few items he treated with a reverence approaching religious in fervor.

He reached for one of the two tapestries that hung to the left and right of the door. Before he could touch the first, the one on the left, Tee spoke, a slight quaver in her voice betraying her emotions.

"Wait."

Tama turned to look at her, one eyebrow raised in inquiry. She looked at the wall hanging, opening herself to it as he'd taught her so long ago. She remembered the first time she'd seen it, a minimalist drawing suggesting cranes in flight over a mountain, the form of each reflected in a deep pool at its base. Even then it had tugged at something inside her. It had taken her years of patient study to understand, and even then, it had only happened when Tama took pity on her and nudged her.

A slight smile creased her lips as she spoke his remembered words.

"You must learn to see what is not there."

Hidden in the blank space of the tapestry, even more a suggestion than the scene of crane and mountain and lake, the katakana for 'beauty' revealed itself as Tee opened her mind. She felt the concept behind the word fill her like an empty cup. She almost didn’t notice Tama taking the hanging from the wall, rolling it up, and placing it in the bottom of the pack. It didn't matter, she had seared the image into her, suffusing her memory for that moment in time.

Tama cleared his throat. The cup of Tee's mind rocked, tipped, and the perfect image of beauty spilled out. Some small part of her mourned the loss, but the sensation had been her constant companion for too long.

Tama's voice was gentle. "You still cannot remember, can you, Tee-chan?"

"No, sensei." She tried to hide both her grief and her numbness, but a ghost of a frown on her mentor's face stopped her. She let the emotions show without letting them overcome her, and the frown disappeared.

"You must not hide your emotions from yourself, Little Crane." Hearing Tama's pet name for her brought a smile to her face. She looked down at the top of her mentor's head as he moved to take down the other tapestry. Like the other, this one showed a minimal image, this one of a human figure, a field of grain, and a storm on the horizon. The katakana hidden within was 'truth'. Tee reached up and gently lifted it from the hook that held it on the wall. She handed it to Tama, who frowned up at her.

The frown was as fake as the gruff note in his voice. Tee had heard both when they were real often enough to know. "You are still too tall, apprentice. Too big by half to ever make use of half of what I have taught you."

She smiled down at him, but her humor fled after only a moment. "Are you sure I'm ready, sensei?"

It was an old argument already, and they'd only begun it a month before, when her mentor announced he was leaving. Every morning and every evening he reminded her he was leaving. If he didn't, she would forget. Sometimes she did anyway. Tama would have left long since had he not been waiting for his international travel documents. Tee still didn't know where he was going. Then again, neither did he. What he was certain of was that he needed to go.

"You are, Tee-chan. You have been. I should have left a decade ago."

Memories of the first night she'd attended her duties alone came rushing back. The duties were as much part of her as her head or the long, nimble fingers she shaved it with, but the absence of her mentor was a shock. Objectively, she knew he must have told her, but...

He'd told her once. Not twice, not thrice, not the thousand or more times that could give her a chance to remember, but once and once only. The night had been terrifying without the constant support of his presence, but she had persevered. She had even, during her rounds, found moments of sublime beauty throughout the museum.

But it had still terrified her. Shortly after that she'd begun carrying a PDA in one of her coverall pockets. It left a chafed mark on her skin beneath the pocket, but she could keep notes on things that would change soon. It had only taken her a year to remember to use it. She even did use it once in a great while.

"I'm glad you didn't leave then sensei."

Tee’s face heated with a blush. Most people didn't notice when she did, but her mentor knew her too well.

"You must acknowledge your emotions, but you must not let them rule you. Go. Begin your rounds. I must pack."

Heedful of Tama's admonition, Tee carefully modulated the wistful note in her voice. "Will I see you again before you leave?"

"Of course, Little Crane. I will hand over my keys to you in the presence of Micah-sama."

This time the emotion was too much. Long suppressed terror suffused her voice. It was so bad her teeth chattered ever so slightly. "Will... Will she be there?"

"Almost certainly, Tee-chan. Apprentice, attend."

The sudden shift in her mentor's voice shook her loose from her fear. She focused on his eyes, ever shifting between green and gold. Right now, they shone with gold so bright and solid they seemed metallic. The last time she'd seen that was when a bus full of tourists came through the museum and left litter in the galleries. Tee blinked; Tama still stared at her, waiting for her to focus completely on him and his words.

"Yes, Tama-sensei."

"In the future I will not be here. At times, Micah-sama will not be here either. At those times you will have to deal with Lady Morgan. Do you understand?"

Tee couldn't breathe. She suffocated under the weight of fear she didn't understand. Terrified, she clutched at the only good memories she had; her rounds through the museum, visiting the works of art in their beautiful homes, cleaning the cases and even, on some of the less fragile pieces, the gilt of the frames. Sometimes it seemed they even spoke to her in a language she would be able to understand if she just listened long enough.

She focused on her breathing, on her memories of the museum, of her memory of beauty. Gradually, like a puddle of water on tile that didn't quite reach the carpeting, she slid back from the depths of panic. She closed her tight, trying to ignore the image of a smiling, cheerful woman who nonetheless terrified Tee beyond reason.

When she opened her eyes, she stared at an old, masterful triptych. Painted on three heavy slabs of wood, it showed a female goddess in three common forms: maiden, mother, and crone. It had been part of the museum since she got there, and she'd always felt a strange mix of comfort and unease when she looked at it. This time the unease won out; finding herself halfway across the museum from where she'd last been standing was more than a little disturbing.

A quick check behind her showed a gallery cleared of the minor detritus of museum goers. The waste cans were empty, the bags neatly tied off and sitting at the juncture with the great central hall. The chairs stood neatly arranged. She knew she'd done it; they stood in the diagonal pattern she preferred, rather than the neat squares Micah-sama set them in or the strangely pleasant random pattern Tama arranged. For the life of her she couldn't remember doing it.

She pulled her PDA out of her pocket. Her fingers tingled at the touch of the case, but it was an old, minor pain, nothing she even noticed any more. Instead, she focused on the messages left by herself, her teacher, and her employer.

The highest priority was from herself. The message had been opened before, but that was nothing new. She pulled it up, scanned through it, and gasped. Her mentor, Tama-sensei, would leave soon. He felt the need to go on walkabout, to see the world as it had become, rather than viewing it as it had been, even through the lens of art.

Ever so faint, Tee felt the gentle mental pressure from her subconscious that let her know this wasn't the first time she had read this message. It wasn't perfect; there were times she had real deja vu rather than the artificial kind created by her memory loss, but this time the emotions at her mentor's imminent departure seemed muted, like she'd cried herself dry about it already, leaving her with nothing but the ache of his passage.

The message said he would leave in roughly two weeks, but the date marked it as twelve days old. Any day now she would be all but alone in the great, echoing museum, her only friends the artwork and the occasional phantoms created by her overactive imagination. Seeking a distraction from her despair, she opened the next message. This one was from her mentor and was painfully simple as well as simply painful.

"It is time, Tee. Meet me in Micah-sama's office. Lady Morgan will be there. Do not embarrass me."

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The thought of meeting with the Lady Morgan, Micah-sama's wife, face to face terrified Tee, but her love for her abrasive old mentor remained a sturdy bulwark to keep her from being washed away by that fear. She sent a quick reply, "In the Triptych Room, On My Way," and walked briskly along the path that would eventually take her to the museum owner's office.

As she walked, she opened the final message, this one from Micah-sama himself. The lord of the museum was, like Tee, old fashioned; he preferred text to voice. His message read simply "Come see me." She replied more formally to this one, as was proper. "I have just received your message. I come."

She slid the PDA back into her cargo pocket and shifted smoothly into a jog. She would never risk running in the hallowed halls of the museum, but her lord and her mentor had both summoned her. She stared resolutely in front of her as she ran, repeating 'Micah-sama's office' over and over, like a mantra. If she looked to the side or stopped her chant, she would become distracted and forget where she was going. Habit would take over, and while the museum would get cleaned, she would not report as she had been instructed to.

Her gut clenched as she thought of displeasing the museum's lord. Should she fail him, he might put her out of the museum, the only home she'd ever known. It had taken Tama-sempai years of patient repetition to train her in all the tasks required of a custodian. If she was put out, she would likely never find another position. She would slowly starve to death on the street.

Tee looked around. She stood in the children's gallery in the basement. One room over was the cafeteria. It always needed cleaning. She wandered into the cavernous room and began walking toward the supply closet. A few steps into the room she snagged a rolling trash can. After that she started collecting rubbish from the floor every few steps and dropping it into the can.

A spot of brilliant light appeared out of the corner of her eye, growing rapidly until it resolved into a small, black skinned humanoid. He hovered in front of her, dragonfly wings blurring behind his back. Intricate tattoos peeked out from underneath an embroidered black vest. Tee noted the beauty of his wings and vest in passing; her eyes were drawn to the newest addition to his attire. On his feet he wore perfect miniature combat boots. She was so engrossed with the details of the stitching that she missed his first words.

"... to Micah's office?"

"What?"

X shook his head and smiled with tolerant frustration. "I axed you if you suppose to go to Micah's office."

Tee blinked at the pixie hovering before her. X had been her occasional companion for as long as she remembered. She'd never spoken to another person about him, and he had never shown up except when she was alone. Long ago she'd realized he was nothing more than a hallucination, created by her empty mind as she lay lost and mindless on a Caribbean beach.

In a sudden moment of clarity, Tee realized her Pixie Godfather was probably the way her broken mind tried to help her retain some measure of normalcy. She looked up at X again, her brow furrowed as she attempted to remember his recent words.

"What did you just say?"

X's voice was gentle, as if he knew how much she struggled to remember what she was doing. "You gots to get to Stone-Killah's office, Tee Baby."

"Really?"

"Yeah, they waiting."

Tee turned away from the cafeteria and started toward Micah-sama's office. Down here in the basement, there were no fragile displays, and after hours there were no visitors, so she stretched her long legs into a run. Before she could forget her destination, she arrived. She took a moment to slow her breathing, then knocked quietly on the door.

Though she listened carefully, no response came. Instead, voices filtered through the door. Before she realized what she was listening to, the words washed over her, and her knees buckled.

"How do we know we can trust her?" Micah's voice was hard, but then he was a hard man. He'd run the museum since Tee arrived, years and years before. It didn't matter when or how, if something endangered Art under his care, he was there, placing himself in harm's way to protect the Art if need be. Kneeling by the door, her refractory memory fed her a vision of the time she'd almost touched a real antique frame with a harsh chemical cleanser. The feel of his hand clamped about her wrist terrified her; it had been as hard and unyielding as a stone manacle.

As she knelt outside the office door, Tama-sensei's serene voice rescued Tee from memory's rusty grip. "She is ready, Micah-sama. I would not be leaving otherwise."

Micah's voice hammered her back to reality with the steel in his reply. "That's not what I meant, Tama."

"It is the answer I have to give, Micah-sama."

Another voice sounded from behind the door, and Tee's shoulders ached from tension the moment she heard it. "It's okay, Micah. She hasn't done anything really damaging since she got here. I'm pretty sure I can fix any mistakes she makes."

"What if they're not mistakes, Ophilia? What then?"

Tee's eyes slid closed, and she bent forward until her forehead leaned against the doorframe. She had no idea what she'd done to make Micah so suspicious. Then again, it might not have been anything she did. Every time she saw him, he looked positively grim. Taking a firm grip on her emotions, she focused on her breathing, the way she'd learned so many years ago from Tama-sensei.

By the time she was calm, the conversation had shifted away from her. "So, you're not sure?"

Micah's reply to Lady Morgan was uncharacteristically indecisive. "No, damn it. I'm not sure at all. The only thing I'm certain of is that something is wrong. Something is coming, but it's..."

"It's what, love?"

"It's too far off, and too nonspecific, and..." Micah trailed off into a low growl.

When Tama spoke again, it was with the note of satori in his voice. "Ah! This is why you suspect her, because with so general a warning, everyone might be suspect. Even me."

"Oh, Tama," Lady Morgan's voice shifted through registers that made Tee's scalp twitch, "you wouldn't dare do something like that, would you?"

"I value my tails too much, Lady Morgan, as you know well. Even had I not been bound by debt and honor, fear would stay my hand."

Micah barked out a harsh laugh, "Really, Tama? I think you're full of it, but I wasn't really suspecting you. I've never known you to be malicious."

"Ah, but how long have you known me?"

"You've been here almost as long as she has. That would put it at around three decades, right?"

"Yes."

A note of awed suspicion colored Micah-sama's words. "You're telling me you'd play that long of a con?"

If he was worried, it never entered Tama-sensei's voice. "Of course. Had I intent on an artifact guarded by yourself and the Lady Morgan, I would plan for longer than that. I would prepare for at least that long."

Even without the terrifying undertones Lady Morgan still made Tee's shoulders ache, "Whoa. If you'd take that long planning, I don't want to think about how long you'd take carrying it out."

"Should I make such a plan, carrying it out would take between one breath and the next. Any longer and the best I could hope for is that Micah would capture me. Were I particularly unlucky, you would do so yourself."

"Yeah, well, that still doesn't tell me whether she's the one giving me this ache in the back of my skull."

"Tell you what, why don't we ask her since," the door swung open, and Tee froze with her skull pressed to the floor, "she's right outside."

Tee couldn't look up. She couldn't move. The Lady Morgan could destroy her with a thought, and Tee knew without doubt that she had occasionally considered doing just that. She flinched when she felt a hand touch her shoulder, but Tama-sempai's voice calmed her fears.

"Tee, Micah and the Lady wish to speak with you."

"Yes, Sensei."

"In this land it is considered polite to stand and look at someone when you speak with them."

Tee forced herself to relax. After a few breaths, she slowly unfolded from her crouch, flowing smoothly to her feet. Finally, once certain sure she wasn't about to faint, she lifted her gaze to meet Micah-sama's. Despite his furrowed brows and the worry lines beside his eyes, he did not seem angry. While she knew he was a hard man, she took comfort in the fact that he was not cruel.

While he stared into her eyes, assessing her, she took the opportunity to really look at him. His black hair was cut short, and though there was a touch of gray at the temples, it was all still thick and full. His eyes were too dark for her to tell what color they were in the dim office. His shoulders were as broad and thick up close as they looked from across a gallery. A sudden shock ran through her from crown to toes, and a gasp escaped her unwilling lips.

Micah-sama was a beautiful man. Not just handsome, although he was that as well, but beautiful in the way a perfect sunset over the Caribbean seas was beautiful. A heady mix of desire and awe rushed through her, taking her away from awareness of herself for an endless moment.

Fingers slid over the shoulder of her coveralls. Butterfly wings caressed her neck, and Tee imagined she smelled blood in the air. Words warbled across several scales, sending a spike of atavistic fear down Tee's spine. "He's mine. Remember that, even if you forget everything else now."

Tee collapsed instantly to her knees, apologies spilling from her lips faster than she could consciously form them. She reached out with one trembling hand to touch Lady Morgan's bare foot in what she intended to be a gesture of submission. Both her hands and her mouth stuttered to a stop when Micah spoke.

"Stop, both of you," He stared at her, his eyes narrowing in frustration and pain. "I can't tell. I just can't tell. I look at her, and it's hard to believe she's the danger, but something, someone... Ophilia, can't you tell?"

"If she would meet my eyes, maybe."

"Tee-chan, please stand."

Tee tried to relax when Tama drifted over to her, but her hands wouldn't stop shaking. Her eyes slid closed. She tried to concentrate on Tama-sensei's faint, spicy scent, but the smell of blood in the air was too strong.

"Tee-chan!"

At the sound of Tama's command, Tee's head snapped up, her spine went rigid in reaction. At Tama's gestured command, she stood, her gaze tracking up Lady Morgan's artwork-covered legs, across the leather of her skirt, past the goddess depicted on her belly, finally coming to rest in the hollow of her throat. A diamond, blue white and flashing almost as if it were real, nestled in the hollow of the Lady's throat. The flashes of refracted light from the tattoo fascinated her, and she barely felt when a cool, delicate fingers lifted her chin until the Lady could see her eyes clearly.

A flash of green drew Tee's gaze up to meet Lady Morgan's. She stared into endless emerald depths, and what little sense of time she had fled. Terror held her motionless, even when the Lady's fingers went away. Dimly, from another world, she heard a voice straight from the primeval forest whisper through the room.

"I see no evil in her. I don't see much of anything in her. She's empty inside. Tabula rasa. I'm surprised she can do anything other than sit and drool."

The note of approbation in Micah-sama's voice was faint but clear. "Dear..."

" Not that she doesn't deserve it, but I'm not trying to be mean."

MIcah-sama sighed. "Okay, so she probably isn't the reason my head is pounding. Tama?"

"Yes, Micah-sama?"

"Is she ready to take over your duties?"

"Yes, Micah-sama."

"So be it. She'll need keys."

Lady Morgan moved away; the scent of blood left with her. Tee's eyes slid closed, and she concentrated on Tama's smell, trying to drive the terror away. In her mind's eye she could still see the Lady's form, long and lithe and covered in artwork. Her hair, green striped with black and gray. Her face, as perfect as it was terrible. Worst of all were her eyes. Her eyes were windows into a dimension of madness and beauty beyond mortal ken.

Tee understood how Tama-sensei could look on her without fear. Even if he was not, as she suspected, more than a simple itinerant monk, he was so close to enlightenment that madness could not possibly touch him. She smelled Tama-sensei coming close, felt him press something small and cold into her hand.

"Go, Tee-chan. The museum needs cleaning."

Tee needed no more prompting than that. Grateful for the excuse, she fled.