“So… We… went to a sex cult orgy together within three hours of having met. I hesitate to suggest this, but let’s share orgy stories. What did you learn?” Arne asked.

“Valuable lessons about the outer limits of my patience. If someone tells me consent is very important one more time, I will tear their lungs out through their gullet,” Dia exploded.

Toog gave her a long calm stare. “You should draw out their intestine through a small incision on the belly skin instead. People are surprisingly disinvested in their intestines when vitality is concerned. You can do a lot with them before people go. A lot. They barely keep any lifeforce fastened. In the long run, sure, but short term, intestines are mostly just there for drama.”

Arne looked around at the small private dining room, happy with his decision of picking the most private table in a private room in the farthest corner from the entrance of the tavern where he had suggested Dia and Toog stay when it became clear they had nowhere to go last night. He was impressed at their apparent complete inability to factor in being overheard, but maybe they weren’t used to cities? Company? Or maybe they were just fiercely proud of their work, or whatever they would call it, to a point where bragging loudly about it, come Hells and high inflation, was just natural? It was sweetly innocent? Annoying? Terrifying? He wasn’t completely sure yet.

Their breakfast arrived via nervous serving girl who gave Dia a scared glance before quickly putting the still bubbling pan of eggs and rice-flowers in a spicy vegetable sauce down. Then she ran to a narrow counter along the wall for their plates and then left again as quickly as she could, head down, closing the door behind her.

“Alright,” Arne scooped several spoonsful of food onto his plate. A good night’s sleep had done much to restore him after yesterday’s exertion, but this morning he was famished. “I’ll start then. I learned that the five on the podium are called the Officiants, they are the only ones that wear the animal masks and know the Chant of Joyful Union, as she called it. Every few orgies at random intervals, they pick someone on the floor to raise up, take them to the podium and do… something, which she was very ambitious about getting to experience. The people who are chosen aren’t seen again for a while, if ever, though some come back as secondary priestesses and priests after some months. The story my partner from yesterday believed was that they were sent to other branches of the Family in other cities to train. Maybe that’s true,” he shrugged. “So, we don’t know how far the Family reaches, but most likely it isn’t just an Arabesk phenomenon. Also, everything was free, so far, but there still has to be a money trail, there always is, and there’s no way this is an altruistic endeavour. The house was bought, fresh foods come in daily, I suppose maybe the priests are paid? Members pay a tax, maybe, or aristocrats donate? That could be a way to unlocking who’s behind it.”

“Are we supposed to?” Toog asked, puzzled. “I’m not really sure what we are trying to achieve?”

“I don’t. Fucking. Know,” Arne answered pointedly and then quickly got his frustration under control. “But until we figure it out, any and all details might be important.”

“Sure. I was a Watcher.” Toog grabbed a round scroll case that had been sitting on the table, opened the clasp and let a thick bunch of papers fall out.

“Didn’t you participate?” Arne asked and picked up a paper. “You’re good!” he commented. The drawing had quickly captured one of the Officiants in a cat mask, a well-shaped woman that Arne vaguely remembered having seen the day before at the ritual. Then there were drawings of the altar, quickly drawn but concise sketches, the animal carvings on the altar, the hall itself, and here and there were notes scribbled randomly, phonetically transcribing bits of the chant.

“I participated. I couldn’t not, at the end. But my Temple Buddy and I were some of the last to give in, I think. I saw that man get pulled up but that’s one of the last things I remember before the sexy-times began.”

“How do you mean?” Arne asked, still browsing through the drawings but he put them down. “Pulled up?”

Dia shrugged. “Some guy near the podium. Jackal-mask reached down for him and he got taken up in the middle of the priests, then the light… went… crooked and …well.”

“I’m moving in,” Toog stated.

Arne and Dia exchanged a glance; and Arne used the interaction as a diversion while he quietly pocketed one of Toog’s sketches with a picture of the altar and a large bit of chant text.

“The guy from yesterday said there were free rooms for the faithful. So I will go there and be faithful,” Toog explained.

“Having someone on the inside is a great asset,” Arne said. “Just don’t become actually faithful. If they use… was it magic? Could it have been that perfume or incense in the air, or the post-fountain oil rub? Did they use magic on us? It wasn’t the food; I didn’t eat or drink anything. I don’t remember consenting to being magicked or drugged, and I hear consent is very important.”

“It wasn’t normal magic, but it was definitely magic,” Dia said, scrunching her eye up against an annoyed tic. “I tried to counter it, but it hit me like an angry river horse in heat.”

“Counter it?” Toog asked.

“I just borrowed a little from my …Temple Buddy,” she said with disgust, “and then shielded myself, but I was too late. It didn’t happen until after the first wave had hit.”

“I don’t really know what you are talking about. Waves?” Arne asked.

Dia sighed. “When the doors from the dining hall were opened, there was already work being done. I couldn’t really pinpoint it, but I assume it came from the door at the back of the room that the animal masks came from.”

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Arne just nodded, unwilling to admit he hadn’t noticed the door or the direction the Officiants had come from. That worried him deeply. That he had walked happily into a situation where his memory, attention and decision making were taken from him. Granted, he’d been ensnared with magic and enthusiastic sex. But that was really no excuse. “So, do either of you actually remember what happened? All the way through?” he asked, counterintuitively hoping that they were as lost as he was.

“That guy being taken up to the altar is the last thing I remember,” Toog stated in between bites of breakfast.

“Same for me.”

Arne hid his relief behind his food. “Well, in that case, if I make inquiries into the money and ownership…”

“If something magical is going on, then maybe it happens while people are unconscious. Maybe I can put something together to keep us aware,” Toog said when Arne's voice trailed off.

Dia gave a disgusted sigh. “We’re going back? For round two of hide the sausage in a random stranger?”

Arne laughed. “You were with a woman,” he grinned. “How are sausages your concern?”

“It only started out that way. Besides, I thought I could dodge the damned gropy fuckery by talking to a nice elderly lady. Ri-diculous!” she spat with emphasis.

“It ended that way too,” Arne smiled broadly at her and watched the fury that seemed to never be far from the surface almost pile onto her face and be about to spill over. “So, what were you saying, Toog?”

“Maybe I can keep us awake. I have a few stimulants we could try.”

“Magic-countering stimulants?” Dia asked arrogantly.

“Yes.” Toog just kept eating.

“That’s absurd. If people could just do drugs to avoid magic, people would just do drugs to avoid magic.”

Toog shrugged. “Up to you if you want to try it. Consent is very important.”

Dia growled in frustration.

“Here’s a thought…” Arne mused, putting words on the vague ideas that had wasped around in his head the last few minutes. “Can you use magic to do other things than hurt people? I mean, if you could try to shield yourself, can you do other things with it?” he asked Dia.

“Of course I can,” she stated like he was a bit dim.

“What seemed to be the reason that guy got picked yesterday? The woman I was with wanted to get picked. She believes it is vitality, enthusiasm, beauty… that kind of thing that determines it.”

“He was young-ish,” Toog said. “He was maybe pretty; I didn’t get a good look before he vanished into the light at the altar.”

“And he was close to the podium,” Dia shrugged. “Maybe it was just opportunity.”

“Sure, maybe.” Arne shrugged. “What could they possibly get out of this, though? Is it just an excuse to vanish people?”

“What? No! They are clearly funnelling the energy out of the participants,” Dia said. “What they are doing with it is anyone’s guess, but what other use could a hundred drugged idiots fucking possibly have?”

“With… magic?” Arne asked.

“Physically and emotionally charge a whole bunch of people and steal that energy to power whatever you are doing. It’s the same I do, just with actual life-force, not with sloppy sex or whatever,” she rolled her eyes disdainfully.

“You could have led with that,” Toog commented.

“I thought it was obvious.”

“Alright, so… where does it go? What does it power?” Arne asked.

“I don’t know, do I? I was busy orgying,” Dia snapped.

“Relax!” Arne held up his hands. “It fits with what I was thinking. We need to know where the magic energy thing goes. So, what if we could track it?”

“How?” Toog asked.

“Just an idea, and the details are still fuzzy, but is there some way to magic people, so they can be tracked? I’m thinking we make sure to be near the dais, and when someone is about be picked and go up, we put a magical …bloodhound on them? I’m not really sure how to put this…” He looked at Dia questioningly.

“Better, what if we make someone more likely to be picked with a tracking spell on them? Then I can make it much stronger,” Dia said. “If you can make whoever you were bonking eat a piece of fruit or something, I can charge it with extra vitality. It will have my signature on it, and I will be able to sense it.”

“And if I can find some way to keep us conscious through the process, we will have a better idea of what happens at the ritual,” Toog said. “Funnelling lifeforce is really fascinating, isn’t it?”

“If I’m supposed to give it to the woman from yesterday, I will have to catch her before the orgy since I can’t bring anything with me through the fountain. I don’t know if she will be there or be interested, though.”

“Well, that’s an Arne-problem, isn’t it?” Dia commented.

“It’s more like a group problem if she isn’t there.”

“Can’t you just charm someone else?” Toog asked.

“Charm? That’s not really my primary area of expertise,” Arne said.

“Then what would you call that thing you were doing yesterday?” Toog asked, genuinely puzzled.

“Well, Arne can’t have any of your mystery drugs,” Dia stated.

“What! Why?” he protested.

“Because you have to be reliable to talk her into eating whatever I put the vitality magic on, and you have to be on your best orgying performance to get her picked.”

“How is it my responsibility to get her picked? She can bonk whoever she wants and it’s her performance, not her partner’s that is relevant! And we don’t even know that.”

“Are you saying you want to be Toog-drugged?” Dia snapped.

Arne opened his mouth to argue and closed it again. This was a tough choice. Get knocked out by possibly hostile magic that stole his memory or let an admitted torturer decide his state of mind…

“It’s really only Dia that needs to be clear headed,” Toog said. “I’m fine to orgy, I guess.”

“Oh, Hells no! You aren’t drugging me up and running off to sit on a dick somewhere.”

“Why not? We are at an orgy,” Toog remarked curiously. “We don’t want to attract attention. Besides, I’m moving in, so I have to appear faithful.”

Arne gestured with the pan to the others and when they shook their heads, he took the last portion left. “So, is this a plan? Follow the energy they drain?”

Both Toog and Dia shrugged, which he took as agreement.

“Dia will make a trackable, easily edible piece of fruit. I will get someone to eat it. Toog will drug Dia so she stays conscious during the ritual and she will track the fruit when it is picked. Have I understood it correctly?”

“Sure,” Toog said. “Seems right.”

“Now I just need to come up with an excuse for why I’m hanging around outside the doors of a sex cult trying to get people to eat a piece of fruit…” Arne commented lightly and shook his head.

“Well, do you think ‘it will make you appear incredibly vital, strong and beautiful’ might be worth a shot?” Dia asked in a tone that clearly showed what she thought of his intellect.

“Is that the actual effect of it?” Arne asked sceptically.

“Of course!”

“You could have led with that.”

“You add vitality to someone and it shows? Really? You need that explained?” Dia asked.

“Any other effects?”

“Nothing much. I mean, she’ll die in about six hours. But other than that…” Dia shrugged. “She’ll look fabulous until then.”

Arne stared at her, not sure if she was …joking? Did she know she was funny?

“Is that a problem, Arne?” Dia asked, clearly expecting a yes.

“Of course it is, sister,” he said seriously. “Consent is very important.”

He laughed when he caught the fork she threw at him.