In the time of Oharu

The Second Volume November 1936 to November 1937

Chapter 6

by Mr. David R. Dorrycott

Spontoon Island created by Mr. Ken Fletcher. Used with permission.

Songmark and other characters (See Appendix A for complete character listing)

created by Mr. Simon Barber, used with permission.

March 5^th, 1937

‘That Amelia’ Prudence Akroyd thought in agitation. That the little English house kitty Miss Bourne-Phipps had sent Florence Farmington to ask about that! As if... Prudence shivered in repressed anger. Already having packed the younger hound Florence off for the nonce she now stood looking out her window towards the gate where Amelia, and the troublesome self centered doe Molly Procyk were currently on duty. “I should have words with that foolish little woman” the canine growled. “Much in a very private place. She has taken her title too much in paw. It must be the name that corrupts so fully. So perhaps it is time she discovered what she sends others to explore. And perhaps I will be the one to show her.”

She said this knowing but not caring that somehow all her spoken words would be known to their tutors. She and her dorm had nearly torn apart their room, yet not found any indication of the suspected wires or microphones. Still there was no other way their words could reach so far away. Of course none of her group were master carpenters, thus when they carefully opened their tongue and grove ceilings they did not understand the oddly shaped supports they found. Supports that bounced sounds back to very sensitive microphones hidden several yards away from each room. It was exactly like the angled mirrors in each dorm, misdirection taken to the Russian extreme. Now had say a certain First year rabbit seen those supports, then all would have been understood.

The next day found Prudence honoring her promise to Florence. It was a Saturday and with a lot of explanation Prudence had arranged a rather unexpected and long pass for her little hound adventuress and her dorm, along with getting a message out to a certain mare on Casino Island. Now she and her dorm were escorting the second year off to their special practice area, having seen Florence’s dorm mates off to the Double Lotus as was their norm. It was a beach not frequented by males, not since the Double Lotus had purchased the land then quietly let it be known for all males to ‘please not appear when women were there.’ This was unknown to Florence, nor that Prudence had contacted the Songmark graduate Nikki and arranged her to meet them. Their lifestyle was believed to be no more for a cheap release by those who did not understand. An illness, correctable by care and heavy Religious ‘re-training.’ Brain Washing would be the correct term though.

Normally Prudence would have shoved away her fellow student with a short, curt explanation of what she thought of her own lifestyle. But poor Florence was obviously at the end of her rope and grasping at any straw to save her. A few careful questions of Mrs Oelabe had explained a great deal. Apparently normal ‘precautions’ had a high failure rate in Florence’s family. This high failure rate, coupled with her rather active life the long months before coming to Songmark had primed the poor girl for failure. Of course knowing Songmarks instant dismissal of any young woman who became with child Prudence could understand Florence’s problem. That she had managed into her second year completely without... “Don’t know if I could do that” Prudence had admitted to herself on the walk back to her dorm room. Still the only one who could help was Nikki. She had the experience, the training. More importantly she had a strange understanding of women’s minds that even Prudence found disturbing. And she owed Prudence’s dorm more than a few favors already. Some rather serious, and very secret favors.

Of course it was obvious why Florence had turned to Prudence’s path. With her entire dorm ‘that way’ and very vocal of their own conquests, or being conquested (was that a word the hound wondered for a moment. Probably not, but it fit she decided.) She was a typical straight, filled with misinformation preparing to leap eyes closed into an unknown pool up to her waist. A foolish action before discovering the truth was never what she had expected and by then it was much too late to back out. In Florence’s case Prudence had decided to insure that first step was no more than her tippy toes. At least until she understood what was going on. There were always those who wondered, then ended up running out of a bedroom in shear terror. Florence might be a lower classwoman, but she was Songmark and damned if Prudence or any other Songmark girl would let her drown within their sight. Beryl excluded of course. Beryl Prudence would offer a rope. With a hidden very heavy anchor attached.

“Again she isn’t here” Belle noted as they arrived, each setting their towels in their respective places.

“She?” ask Florence, looking about her.

Ada reached out, touching Belle’s paw. “You haven’t heard? Great Mother has ordered her to have nothing to do with any Songmark until this years classes are over.”

Confusion covered the rabbits face. “But why?”

“Molly” her three dorm-mates answered as one.

Disappointment filled the larger rabbits face and she sat on a stone. “Someone seriously needs tah kill that doe” she growled slowly. ‘Cept she’d follow, wouldn she?”

“Probably” Ada admitted. “I really do not know the true reason Belle. I am getting this third paw from Angelica’s village priestess after all.”

Carmen laughed as she removed her travel clothing to expose her brand new and very scandalous swimsuit. “You hear from one priestess. Same’s as another. Not second third paw Ada. Think maybe Belle love little mouse yes? Now we swim. I have date with English girl on Meeting Island this afternoon.”

Belle threw her towel at the Mixtex. “I am not in love with anyone dear girl” she corrected. “Not yet. Honored Mother Oharu has been teaching me how to draw, and I truly miss her instruction.” Opening a bag she had carried Belle removed a drawing tablet, offering it to Carmen. “If you disbelieve me, here are my pitiful attempts.”

Not about to miss a chance to discover more about one of her dorm-mates Carmen accepted the tablet, noticing the embarrassment on Belle’s face as she did so. Opening it she discovered truly pitiful work at first. Over it though, in a surer paw were corrections. That paw could only have come from one mouse. By the time Carmen reached the last drawing Belle’s improvement was impossible to miss. Returning the tablet Carmen curtsied. “In error. Apologize” she admitted.

“Well at least you have your little English girl on Meeting Island to play with” Belle answered. “I have found no one as yet, and time is running out for poor little me.”

Carmen laughed, a bubbly little sound. “Little English girl? She unsure is. Maybe. Maybe not. I not push her one claw-width then no. If yes I very lucky. If no, I out few dozen shells but have time and memories worthwhile. Now we train little hound to replace us in swim movies. Si?”

“Si” Belle laughed. “Come little hound. This will hurt you a great deal more than it shall hurt us, but that only because we are used to it now.”

Within minutes all five girls were in their swimsuits, their travel clothing carefully folded and covered by a clean stone so as not to be blown about. Though at first she was self-conscious of the other girls touching her, Florence soon realized that they really were just trying to teach her how to preform as they did. Synchronized swimming she quickly discovered, was neither easy to learn nor without a great deal of effort to preform. By the end of their first training session though Florence found that she could dive correctly, at the right time and position though she was still surfacing several feet to the wrong side. She also realized that she liked the exercise, although is was very tiring for one not used to it. When Prudence announced that it was finally time to break for lunch the younger hound was more than relieved.

After eating the five were warming themselves in the bright afternoon sun when Florence abruptly found her self in the shade. A strong scent struck her even as from the corner of one eye she noticed a freshly manicured hoof. Putting those two facts together she rolled away, coming up to her feet in a combat position before almost as quickly relaxing. Nikki, one of the most dangerous women on Casino Island in Florence’s estimation was just watching her, not reaching for her.

“Still slow” the black furred mare observed. “Promise fer ah second, buh slow. Needs mor trainin. Prudence little hound. She wah yah asked tah see me?”

Florence abruptly noted that beside and behind the massive mare stood an attractive vixen. She was wearing a long dress who’s cream color seemed somehow to match her fur coloring well. About her neck was a plain silver collar that her neck fur almost covered and from what Florence could tell the vixen was wearing nothing else but sandals. Oddly she was silent and her eyes were lowered. Some clue about the collar tugged at Florence’s mind but she was dragged away from it when Nikki sat exactly where she had placed her own clothing.

“She is, and we now leave her to you” the hound answered. “Just make certain that she arrives at Songmark’s gate before Sunday evening song. Tha is when her pass expires.” Having said that Prudence and her dorm simply picked up their things and walked off into the nearby jungle.

“PRUDENCE” Florence wailed, stepping further away from the mare now observing her.

“Setll dohn” the mare laughed. M “Ahm no gonna touch yah. Yah goh questions, we’re here tah answer ‘em. Clay, sit inna shade please. Ahn you little wanna know missie, yah too. Beside Clay.” Picking up Florence’s things Nikki herself stood, walking to a bit of shade across from where the vixen had placed herself. She then used Florence’s clothing as a pillow against the stone she leaned upon.

“My clothing” Florence argued.

“Is mhan till yah head back tah Songmark. Less yah wanna figh over it? No, dinna think yah was stupid, yer ah secon year affer all. Now settle dohn ahn ask what yah wanna know.”

Setting by Clay, who’s scent was oddly neutral Florence looked away, then to her paws, then to Nikki. “You are aware of my problem” she asked softly.

“Hot itchey pants, don trus precautions caus tha don much work fer yer family, don wanna get tossed outta Songmark buh tha itch is terrin yah apart. Yep, bot covers it righ?”

“In a very short, very crude fashion Nikki. Yes it does” Florence admitted. “I am slowly going mad. My own attempts to help myself have been laughable. I should have remained a maiden, not accepting my husband-to-be’s gifts before coming here. It awoke within me a fire I cannot bank.”

“Couple mules onna island” the mare reminded her newest student. For student Nikki now considered Florence, though not the kind of student Clay or Malou were. “Always valiable.”

“And as such, my chance of catching a disease is so great that I cannot chance such. A bad enough infection would leave me unable to have children. Even were that not a concern Nikki, these young men are too much in demand and, to be honest I do not wish to be split open like a rotten tomato.”

Nikki laughed. “Is tha” she admitted. “Some yer size haf been is truth. So thas why yah wanna try ah woman then.”

Florence started to stand but a paw on her own stopped her. She looked at the vixen beside her, who’s paw had already returned to her own lap. “She’s righ” Nikki answered that unasked question. “Levins noh a optin. Lest noh for ah few hours. Noh till this chats over.”

“Who is she” Florence asked, finding it odd that the vixen hadn’t spoken.

Nikki shrugged. “Mah property. Mah slave. Ah anchor round mah neck. Sell er tah yah iffin yah wan her.”

“SLAVE” Florence gasped. “On Spontoon?”

“Contract gon bad” Nikki admitted. “Lon story. She’s where she wans tah be, noh even Honored Mother Oharu col pull her away fer more than ah day, two ah most. Husband sold er tah me cause he trusts me. Allthin’s noh happy, buh there’s pressaden so ahm stuck with her. Offer stands Florence. Five shells. Yer own well train slave fer life. Wah on yah paw ahn foot, never refuse yah anythin. Kep yer bed warm ah nigh ah yer itch well scritched.”

“I do not wish a slave” Florence responded, a shiver of distaste running through her body.

“Good.” Nikki abruptly stood, shoving Florence’s clothing into a bag she was carrying. “Follow, both yah.”

With almost no other choice (her swimsuit was much to risque to be seen in a Casino Island street this time of year after all, though there was water taxi fare hidden within it) Florence followed with the vixen known as Clay at her side. They then walked several hundred yards into the jungle, climbing perhaps two hundred feet above the shoreline before Nikki stopped in a clearing of soft grass.

“Sit” she ordered again. Florence sat. “Cooler up here, very little chance of anyone stumbling over us because that is the only safe way up.”

“Your accent is slipping” Florence noted immediately.

Again the mare laughed. “Young lady. I worked for two long years while a Songmark student to learn that accent. It makes the mundanes believe that I am stupider than I am. They slip up, letting me learn a great deal more than they would want me too. Now my little puppy, we are going to talk about very important things here. Thus every word must be understandable. But you once tell anyone I am faking with that accent and you will join Clay. You do understand me?”

“My word” Florence agreed. “As a Songmark student and as a woman.”

“Good.” Nikki sat on a fallen palm log, waiting until Clay had again sat. Again Florence found herself very close to the vixen. What was Nikki up too she wondered as the mare began her short instruction.

“Little Songmark girl understand” the mare started. “In our world the only difference is that there are no males present. We love, hate, need, yearn, plot, dream and hurt just like anyone else. There are those of us who would take you, twist you, break you to her will even if you discovered that the touch of another woman is not to your choosing. I am not one of those Florence. All my students approach me. All of them. All have a written contract with me. A contract that I follow to the letter. Florence, in your world if you find yourself attracted to a male. You will spend time with him, eventually fall in love and marry him. To live your life with him right?”

“If everything goes according to plan, yes” Florence agreed.

“No difference in our world. Prudence is going to marry Tahni at the end of her school year. They are in love. Not lust, love. They will, I hope, grow old in each others arms and will be buried beside each other. Just like in your world. Mother Oharu has a saying that’s been picked up among us. ‘No one controls for whom ones heart blossoms.’ And just like your world there are users, the used and one night flings. But a one night fling isn’t what you need is it?”

Florence squirmed, realizing where Nikki might be going. “No. No it isn’t.”

Nikki nodded, setting her bag down before continuing. “You need something stable. Something you can look forward too and remember at night with fondness. Not a ‘who was she, will she remember me’ passing in the night affair. So you will spend some time with a girl, or two. Maybe you will find one your able to spin your prop with. Then schools over, you graduate. You move on with your life but what happens to her? Do you think she’s been spinning your prop for the fun of it? No Florence, she’s probably serious by now. She wants you, she needs you now, her heart burns for you. She will cry in her pillow, her heart shattered. But you dumped her, left for home leaving behind another shattered heart like Ada and Honored Mother Oharu. Needing, loving, can never have. Florence our world isn’t a playground you enter at sundown and leave at sunup. The only real difference is we cannot grant each other children. There is NO other difference that even begins to matter. If we want children we adopt, or in rare cases one of us finds a male we like as a friend and endure.”

She paused, picking up a canteen to sip from before continuing. “Besides. What if you do convince some delightful thing to slip under the covers, then find that you can’t touch her? Four out of ten woman in this world are exactly like that. Not even to save their lives, or if they do manage to do it for some reason it most often drives them mad with horror and disgust.”

“I didn’t know” the younger girl admitted. “I just thought. Well I need, and I can’t have. My dorm has, they chat about it and I NEED!” A sob of pure frustration escaped the young girl. “It is so hard, so so hard. All I need to do is smile and I would have but odds are so high that precautions will fail. Nikki. Like every Songmark student everything I am, everything I can be is in Songmark. To lose it for an hour of pleasure. It drives me mad.”

“You know a male that can last an hour?” Nikki asked in amazement.

“No” Florence admitted. “But my boyfriend used too.. Oh...” She stood suddenly, her face under her thin fur bright red. She looked around her, as if hoping the world would abruptly end. “Why did you bring that image up” she cried.

“Why did you not just hire a Huntress to find out before approaching Lady Allworthy” the mare asked. “She would have answered all your questions.”

Tears stained the girls face as she answered. “A common street walker? Nikki, I was raised better than that. I truly was.”

Cocking her head the mare made a gesture with one paw. Florence felt more than saw the vixen stand beside her. “Huntress’s are many things Florence. But one thing is that here they are not common. Nor are they low class or filthy. Unless you troll China Dock. Those girls, well they aren’t true Huntress’s are they. Most aren’t even Spontoon natives. But those I am talking about. Most of them are as well educated as anyone who finishes High School can expect to be, a couple have even finished college and they see a special Allthing selected Doctor weekly. Some few choose their life because someone has to be a Huntress because the tourists demand it and the visiting Navy’s won’t accept no for an answer. By being so they protect their sisters from that need. Spontoon is not a rich nation little hound. A shell is a shell and shell’s buy food, clothing, medical for the children and elders care when there is no employment in the off seasons. Clay, stand beside me.”

Instantly the vixen walked to a place beside, and just behind the sitting mare. “No Clay, in front of me. Face the hound.” Again the vixen complied without uttering a sound. “Now undress, give me your clothing as you do. I paid good money for this, I do not want it dirty.”

As Florence watched Clay undressed until she stood before Nikki without even sandals on her feet. “This” Nikki continued from behind the calmly waiting vixen. “Is a woman.” Reaching around the smaller vixen the mare brazenly touched Clay’s body in places Florence hadn’t been touched by anyone but herself in years. “Note the differences between her and the male. Her lack of certain parts, her addition of certain parts.” Standing Nikki walked a little away from Clay. “Her softness where males are rough. Note that she has a heart, just like a male. Note that she has emotions, wants, needs, hopes and dreams. Just like a male. NOTE THAT SHE CAN BE HURT, HER HEART SHATTERED” the mare snapped, her abrupt change in tone causing Florence to jump. “She is not a toy. She is not a plaything to be taken out and used, then put away again and forgotten when you are done with her. She is a woman and all that is, all that ever will be resides within her body, her heart. Her soul.”

“I... I hadn’t thought” Florence admitted. “I really hadn’t I guess. I mean...”

“You were quite correct on your first attempt” Nikki corrected. “You did not think. Walk up to Clay.”

Slowly, hesitantly Florence stood and stepped closer to the still silent vixen. “Why is she called Clay” she asked, stopping just within reach of the vixen.

“You chose the name. Tell her” Nikki ordered.

For the first time the vixen spoke and Florence found her voice cultured, soft and somehow innocent. “Clay may be molded into any shape until the maker is happy with what she has. Then it may be fired to hold forever that form.”

“And who is your maker” Nikki asked.

“You are my Mistress. You will mold me until I am what you wish. Then you will place me into your great fire, to forever keep me into that form and I will be happy all the days of my life. And forever after always.”

Nikki shrugged. “Florence. When a woman falls in love with you it is with all her heart, her soul. Clay was a mistake, my mistake. A local native play that went one step too far with a woman who’s soul was not fully understood. Now I am saddled with her for life unless I can find someone worthy to care for her. To own her.” She looked away from Florence to the again silent vixen. “Because I would never ever hurt someone who trusted me like she does. She is right. I mold her. I mold her to be exactly what her soul demands her to be. She can never again be free, she would be lost. She would give herself to the first person to accept her leash and they would crush her soul. Thus I have her, and search for the one she needs.”

“You offered to sell her to me for five shells” Florence reminded the mare.

“If you had agreed she would now be yours. But you Florence haven’t the fire within you she needs. Not yet. You do not know how to mold her. How to accept her needs as your own. Do you. You could not be her life forever as Clay. Fired perhaps, while malleable never.”

Florence shook her head no. “No Nikki. I don’t think I do.”

“Then you would have sold her back to me, or given her to me in minutes. Florence, Clay has a need and love inside her that I can not understand. I probably can never understand. It frightens me some times, at other times she warms my heart as not even my wife can. If a woman like Clay approached you, could you accept her?”

“I don’t know” Florence admitted. “Maybe.”

“A man?”

“I would not want a man like that” she admitted. “I couldn’t live with a man like that. I couldn’t stand to be around a man like that.”

Nikki stepped a bit further away. “But you could a woman?”

Florence took a deep breath, then looked hard at that question within her mind. “If I had too, yes. I think. I know that I would not like it, but I wouldn’t throw her into the street. I truly believe that I would find a way.”

Nikki nodded as if deciding something. “Then we shall see what you truly are. Are you one of the four or are you one of the three who step along both paths. Florence. I am taking a walk. I will be back in two hours. Clay, please her only as she wishes. Watch for the signs I have trained you well to know. When you see them step away. I will please you tonight in that case.” Then the mare vanished into the thick jungle.

Florence barely had time understand what Nikki had said when the vixen’s soft paws were on her cheeks. “Remember. Only if you wish” the vixen breathed as she brought her lips gently against those of Florence.

Late that Sunday evening Nikki sat working on the company books with her wife Malou. This week her dalmatian partner Katherine McMaster was on South Island attending a family get together. A celebration of a childs birth and Nikki had promised to have the books ready when she returned.

“We will need third pilot” Malou decided after finishing the weekly schedule. “At least for Summer.”

“Yer nah ah pilot. Same fer Clay” Nikki laughed. “Can’t foord nother employee.”

“Then not pay me” the Persian answered as she turned to next weeks schedule. “I would say not pay Clay. Allthing very strict about that provision even if you marry her too.”

Nikki nodded in agreement. Getting the Allthing to accept Clays very existence had been more difficult than she had expected. Only the intervention of a certain village and their Priestess, their acceptance that the true blame fell upon them, not Nikki had settled the deal. Still Nikki was required to deposit weekly into a bank account standard pay for her little, as the Allthing called Clay, anchor. Fail to pay honest wages and Clay would be deported back to the United States, without notification to her now ex-husband. It would destroy Clay the mare knew. Her husband no longer even tried to accept her, though he absolutely refused to officially reject her. Though he had sent checks for her support, his last letter had informed Nikki that he had been forced to start divorce proceedings ‘for abandonment.’ Legal and family pressure had forced his paw. Being an only son his family demanded that he supply them with an heir and social pressure regarding his runaway wife was now so great that he could no longer stand against it. Thus, though he admitted he could never love another as he had his sweet Lynnie. It was his decision that he would create a trust fund for her care at the Spontoon bank of Nikki’s choice in order that none of his relatives, or the law could ever touch it should she be discovered. Again he begged that should she sell Clay that it be to someone like herself.

“Clay” Nikki called, reminded of the young woman. “If the baby is asleep, coffee for two please.”

Apparently their son was asleep, as Clay soon entered with a tray of coffee. Carefully the American vixen set out cups for the two. After having done so she started to clean up, only to be stopped by Nikki. “Remain. Tell me Clay, your opinion of Florence?”

“My opinion Mistress” the vixen asked. She hadn’t been asked her opinion since that glorious day when she had been captured.

“Your opinion, and sit down while you talk. I need to know everything.”

Clay sat, knowing by now that when her Mistress dropped her horrible accent that she was as serious as she could be. “My opinion. She is a very nice young lady Mistress. Intelligent and with great promise. Still unsure of herself, but she is one of the three like myself. Not one of the four.”

“What else should I know about her my dearest slave” the mare asked before sipping what to others would have been a small bowl of coffee.

“She is more yourself than I Mistress. She is not submissive. She does not like pain or force either. I like her Mistress.”

Nikki snorted, lifting a hoof to the top of her desk as she leaned back. “Vanilla Jane” she remarked. “She did not fight you?”

“No Mistress” the vixen answered. “She was hesitant at first yes. There were things she would not do. Still she was a very gentle lover. She pleased me many times once she understood how.”

“Then we have our pilot” the mare decided, looking over to her watching wife. “Clay needs experience showing others who truly wish to know the true path. That hound has already started walking it. What if I offer her room and board for pay?”

“That we afford my great stallion” Malou reported after checking her records. “Where though will we place her?”

“In Clays room of course.” She noted the felines raised whiskers. “With Clay. There is little last training my little vixen needs before I place her within the fire. And as Florence will be her new owner, the two need to become comfortable with each other.”

“Truly Mistress” Clay gasped, then covered her mouth with both paws.

Nikki looked over at the aghast slave who had spoken without being asked a question. “I will not allow that to pass Clay” she said softly, pleased when those eyes dropped to the floor without even a whisper of complaint. “You need only lead Florence down those paths she shows interest in, no others. I have met her kind before, her problem is not of her doing. For a price her problem will be soothed, that price being her working for us this Summer. Now clean up this mess. You sleep in the kennel tonight.”

“Yes Mistress” Clay agreed. When she was gone Nikki turned her attention to Malou.

“It will not rain tonight, as it did last night” she explained in a soft voice. “Her new name will be Crystal. I think that she will like it.” As they listened the back door closed just hard enough to be heard. Clay had gone to the waiting structure she barely could squeeze into. It was much less a punishment than she had been given before and had anyone ask, she would have said that she deserved much worse.

Malou lowered her own head in submission. Wife to the great mare stallion she may be, but her own place was well below her stallion. Not equal too it. “Who will you sell her too my love” she asked.

“Florence of course” Nikki whispered, delighted at the shocked look on her wifes face. “I warned her, and Clay has already shown a more than normal interest in her. That hound will be a Songmark graduate, its time she started learning responsibility. Agree?”

Malou actually chuckled. “She will leave her here until she is ready of course. She could not possibly take such one as Clay into the places that she must go. Not until she graduates. We gain the best of all worlds.”

Nikki laughed gently so that Clay could not hear them in the back yard. “Out from under the Allthing. A full time employee and not responsible for any of her actions.” Standing Nikki reached for her hat and jacket. “I will return when I can. Try to complete the books my love and be ready for me when I return. I already miss you.”

“Will they see you at Songmark. At this time?”

“Of course they will” Nikki laughed again. This laugh much louder than the one before. “Of course they will. They need to know Miss Farmington’s fate as quickly as possible. Besides, how do you think that they know as much as they do? They are not Goddess’s. Though I would love to see that hounds face when say Miss Blande asks her for a report about this weekends ‘adventure.’ Oh I’d give shells to be peeping through a hole in the wall then.”

She left then, with Malou’s uncontrollable giggles following her.

Somewhat later that night Florence Farmington lay awake on her bed, staring up at the mattress above her. She was busy very carefully going through her memories of the weekend. First her embarrassment of being touched before she realized that it was simply training. Learning she really liked the rigid style of swimming that Prudence and her dorm preformed. There was a certain satisfaction of understanding what was needed and getting it right. This was something she would have to look into further. Then Nikki and her lecture. But Clay.

Florence shivered under her thin Songmark blanket. Clay had been so soft, moved so gently. She had backed away every time Florence had felt uncomfortable. Yet by the time Nikki had returned (which Florence had soon realized had been much more than two hours later) they were a pair. They were lovers. ‘I am not Sappho’ Florence told herself. ‘No, that I am not. Yet I did enjoy fully what was done to me, what I did. So I am one who walks both paths. Still given a choice...’ She remembered her long time boyfriend waiting at home. Her Thomas, his muscular body. His strength, his scent, his aching need. ‘Oh yes, it would be a male for me always, given the choice.’ Yet at the moment she had no choice so it would be one of her own kind until she was finished with Songmark.

‘A Huntress’ she thought, unaware of where her paws were at the moment. ‘Nikki would not allow me near her slave again. I know that. But a Huntress. I might be able to afford one of the better ones, I think. Amelia knows so much, she must know.’ Rolling out of bed Florence grabbed her waiting clothing. In minutes she was gone, having slipped out of her dorm with so little noise that the listening tutor never heard her. That was a fact that would make her tutors proud when not too long later they discovered it, and a point for her dorm as well.

Helen was already at the door when Florence arrived. “Are you a fool” the Texan asked in a very low voice. “It is a school night. What are you thinking of, counting coup on third years?”

“Amelia” Florence explained. Her voice just as low. “I need to talk with her. Please?”

Helen looked behind her and with an unseen signal called Amelia from her bed to the door. “Bathroom” Helen whispered. “This better be good Florence.”

Later, in her own bed again Florence wondered at the strange look of shock that had filled Amelia’s face when she had asked her question. After all Amelia was a third year. By now she should know who was a huntress, how much they cost. Amelia knew all the answers after all.

March 12^th, 1937

A delicate silver chain flowed like water through the hardened paws of dangerous looking Russian direwolf. One known only as The Leveler. Sidokha was his real name, though even he had forgotten his family name, so long ago had he last used it. Only Starling himself ever used his real name though. Again silver chain flowed from one paw to another, pouring like water so finely was it crafted. Though the thick ornate locket it was attached too never moved. It could have been a pocket watch of course, but it was not and never had been. Had he been discovered with that piece of jewelry just ten years ago he would have been shot. Now though, only the red bird himself could order that. Gradually he stopped playing with the object, eventually snapping it open.

Inside was mounted two worn photographs. One of The Grand Duchess Anastasia Nicolaievna Romanov. Born in 1901, she had died of a gunshot wound to the forehead at the ripe age of seventeen. He knew that for certain because he had been the last person to kiss her, and the one who had shot her as well. After he was done with her that was. No woman should die a maiden after all. He personally had dumped her still warm body down that mine shaft, but not before taking from her neck this one object as his prize. An object that had importance unknown to his best agent, Tatiana Bryzov. Had Anastasia been alive she would now be twice as old as Tatiana, and still know the sable at sight. Thirty six full years old, where’s Tatiana was only eighteen. Still there would be no mistake in those liquid eyes he had watched life fade from. But there was a secret only he now lived to carry. When the Grand Duchess’s mother, who’s photo was the other in this locket, was brought before his firing squad she was heavy with child. A child that one young officer, barely twenty-three himself decided to save. That child had been born on the rough trip to that very same mine shaft. Had been the only survivor of that group of aristocrats doomed to die at a certain then General’s express orders. Hidden in the locket he carried was the only proof as to whom that child was.

He smiled as he looked into that open locket. Not daring even now to touch what lay within, what lay hidden under the photograph within its own compartment. Closing his captured toy he leaned back in his commandeered chair looking up at the ceiling for a moment. Oh what the White Russians freezing in Vostokiye would give to know the secret he held. What that fat sow hunting any living member would do, to be able to extinguish a certain young girls life forever. Slipping his toy back into its leather case he dropped both into a pocket. “Get in here” he yelled abruptly in Russian, returning to his normal style of sitting.

Opening the office a very peasant class bear stepped in. “You desire my services comrade?”

“Agent Bryzov will be here within the hour. When she leaves you are to escort her to her English toy. I have a large box to be delivered to that cat, you will carry it. On your life you will insure that nothing happens to the box or what it contains. I suggest that you carry a hidden sidearm. Now return to your duties.”

“Yes Comrade” the bear agreed, shutting the door behind him as he left.

Sidokha was not fooled. That one had the brains of half a turnup, the rotted half. He would have to be eliminated before the direwolf returned to Russia, else he would be a fool and try to kill Tatiana. That he would succeed was impossible, but he might go for that English girl and there he would most likely succeed. Sidokha had plans for that top heavy little pile of fluff. Watching as Tatiana carved her from legs to neck was one of them. Once his use for that English cat was over she would have to go. Else she would forever be a distraction to his protegee. Letting Tatiana kill her slowly was the present he intended to give that sable. It was a present Starling had given him, when one of the Great Leaders mistress’s was discovered to be an English spy. Absently his left paw slipped into that pocket, caressing well worn leather. ‘Oh Tatiana, if you only knew what I hold’ he told himself.

A little while later Tatiana did enter her Consulate. As always she wondered if she would be leaving alive, or as pig food. When dealing with The Leveler one could never know. She well remembered watching as he slowly gutted one of his closest friends simply for speaking poorly of Starling. Ignoring the two guards (together they could not take her, as she had proven to both upon her original arrival two years ago) she walked inside. Soon she was standing before Sidokha himself, though even now she did not know his true name. “My weekly report Comrade” Tatiana announced as she laid an envelope on his desk. This one she knew that on her best day, and his worst she could never take.

Without a word to the attractive sable standing across from him Sidokha picked up the envelope, opening it to read what it held with great care. Eventually he finished, letting the paw written pages fall to his desk like so many leaves. “You do well” he stated. “You mention a problem with those two third years?”

“Nothing I cannot deal with Comrade. They follow, I simply lose them. Or lead them to Millicent. I think the English girl does not like watching my actions with the cat. It is not her calling. I like making her watch. It is... fun.”

“I see. You are going to your Millicent next yes?”

“Unless you have another assignment for me Comrade, yes” Tatiana answered. “We are to be married in two weeks.”

“Not two weeks. On the twentieth. That is seventeen days, not two weeks. Be clear in all your answers.”

“Seventeen days Comrade. You will attend?”

“No. I wish to. I had planned such. Orders have come. I must return to Russia tomorrow. Thanks to the English we have discovered he who turned in Vostokiye. Comrade Starling has requested my assistance with the interrogation. Those fool English, to not know that their code was broken last summer. It has cost them this time. Cost them greatly, for we now have the prize they so desired. I fear though that this will tell them, so they will never use it again.”

Tatiana shivered in reaction, for she well knew what kind of interrogation that poor agent was in for. She had been forced to attend several such questions that this direwolf had preformed, even to assist in the last one. Unlike the direwolf before her she did not find any pleasure in inflecting pain. None at all. “You will return” she asked, begging her private Gods that he would say no.

“I will meet you a week after your return from Hawaii. You are my best agent Tatiana. I know enough that these words will not swell your head, else I would not say them. I have a use for your little cat, and when she is no longer useful to me you will show me, on her naked body just how sharp that blade is that she carries. It is my gift to you, for forcing you to endure her touch, for marrying her.” He stood, walking over to a table holding a large cardstock box. “Your measurements were very useful. I would not wish your wife to be in less than the best Russia has to offer. Perhaps she should wear it when you place her to the question in front of me.”

Opening the box Sidokha withdrew a traditional Russian wedding dress. If that traditional wedding had been held in a palace, for a Czar. “It has no use in Russia anymore. A gift from Starling himself. He wishes a copy of your wedding photograph for his private treasures. You impress him. When you finish this Songmark he has an important mission for you. Even now the foundation for that mission is being put into place. You will cause fall of White Russians in Vostokyie. They still hunt for a Romanov to guide them. Information has been leaked that Alexandra Romanov was secretly with child when in Siberia, evidence has been created to prove that you are that child. This all is truth. That child was taken away before she was shot. This also is truth. Given to peasant family to raise. That is not truth. Child has died, that is unfortunate. You will be that Romanov my Tatiana. You will be the fall of Vostokyie, for you are my best student. ”

Tatiana was impressed by the dress, though she paid close attention to the direwolf’s words. If even a tenth of those jewels were real it was a gift worth more than she had ever seen in her life. “I thought my name on that interrogation order” she admitted, not daring to move from her position. Not daring to ask further this mad plan.

“It was. Orders had already been written to have you returned my pet. Signed by Comrade Starling. They had arrived here only hours after the real traitor slipped his paw. Had he not, you would not be looking upon this dress but the floor as chains were locked about your body. In days I would be interrogating you, not this other. So close did I almost lose my star pupal. Would you like to see those orders?”

“If I may Comrade” Tatiana answered. Her voice shook a bit, but she held her position. Barely. To have come so close to The Leveler’s blades. So very close. Comrade Gadinka would have been a pleasure trip compared to what she knew The Leveler would put her through, and still not yet take her life. When the papers were offered her it was with shaky paws that she held them. Iosif Starlings signature, in that dark green ink he used when the message was not good news. They still existed, which could only mean one thing. “I... I see. Then I am still to be interrogated?”

“One day. Perhaps” the direwolf admitted. “Should you ever disobey any order I give you. For any reason. You may keep those papers as a reminder that we are all but puppets to the greater good. It could be that one day you will interrogate me. Should that happen, you will make me proud should you show no mercy.” He indicated her shaking paws. “As I would be, were my name upon those.”

Carefully folding the papers Tatiana slid them into the same place her report had been. They had been her death sentience. The end of her short life. “You have orders” she asked, slowly regaining control of herself.

“Only these. You will give this dress to your Millicent. It holds no danger to her or you. It was left over from the Czar’s time, never used. Should it need to be adjusted I believe that the English have adequate oppressed workers for that. You will deliver a copy of your wedding photo to these offices. A very large print, your official photographer already has the order. I will not be here, so another will accept it. That of course will be sent to Comrade Sterling himself. Know this my little Tatiana, he has his eyes upon you now. Do not fail him.”

“My mother?”

“A photograph of proof of her passing will be delivered to you one week after you return from Hawaii, as promised. I will place it in your paws myself.” Sidokha sat, looking up at his still nervous agent. “When you have ended your toys life, most likely not many months after your departure from this Songmark, we shall have each other again. Yes?”

A wave of disgust rolled through the sable’s body, a wave she managed not to show. “As you desire.”

“Good. Then go. I shall not see you until your return from Hawaii. One waits to carry your toys dress. Good hunting.”

Gathering the box Tatiana left. Unsurprised that her ex-controller was waiting to take it from her. He was a problem, and once the direwolf was gone he would be a worse problem. For he wanted her as his own toy. This Comrade’s name she did know, though she refused to use it. He was truly an unintelligent beast. Better he had remained on the farm. For he could barely write his own name and cared nothing for further education.

Some hours later Tatiana was in the English Consulate with Millicent. Tatiana was sitting, watching as a seamstress carefully made adjustments to that fantastic dress. “I was told that it is unwise for the groom to view his bride to be in her wedding dress” Millicent commented when she had the chance. “Before her entry into the church. That it would bring great bad luck to the marriage.”

Tatiana shrugged her shoulders. “I am not groom. I am Lady. Dah? Is not words to be Lady and Wife?”

“Pravda” Millicent agreed in near faultless Russian, causing her love to smile at the word. “You are the greater, thus I am to be the wife. When this wonderful lady has finished I have questions for you” the feline continued, straightening as the seamstress popped her buttock with a paw.

“As far as know Russia not ready invade England” Tatiana answered. She played with her tail, a habit she had picked up from her adopted mother. “Think maybe Fall of 1939.”

“Very funny. I care not for your Russian secrets” Millicent laughed. “Unless I am undressing them.”

These words caused Tatiana to blush, an act that brought a glowing smile to Millicent’s face. ‘She is so pretty when she smiles’ the sable thought. ‘Why did I not see this before? Of course, it is because I could not love her before.’

Before she could form a response the seamstress stood. “You may now undress. It will be ready in time. But the bodice child. It was made for a much smaller woman.”

“Then I shall have to be very careful” Millicent admitted. “Until after the wedding at least.” With the seamstress’s help she slipped out of her wedding dress. “And I was only going to wear a new dress I was looking at” she admitted as the seamstress left. “How could you afford that.”

“I would like to know as well” a deep voice added from the same door that the seamstress had just left through.

Millicent screamed, holding her clothing in front of her as Major Hawkins walked in, shutting and locking the door behind him.

“Welcome” Tatiana answered without moving, for she had scented the bulldog waiting his chance to enter for some time now. “We talk dah?”

“We talk” the bulldog answered, pulling a chair forward from the wall.

“GET OUT” Millicent yelled. “I am not yet dressed!”

“Is she always this feisty” Hawkins asked as he pulled out his pipe, ignoring the blood red feline now standing behind him.

“Yes. Much enjoy. Dress Millicent. You are mine to display dah? Then I display you again to this one.”

“Tat.... Very well.” Throwing her clothing back on the chair they had lain upon the much embarrassed housecat began dressing. “We WILL discuss this” she continued as she made a show now of picking out each piece of clothing then examining it before slowly putting it on.

“I don’t see why you bother” Hawkins laughed. “Tatiana will simply take them off you again tonight.”

Holding her brand new Sears bra Millicent turned full face towards the amused English agent. “Yes she will, and none too slowly either Major. Then she will feast upon my helpless body like a great jungle cat with a fresh kill. All through this long night, while you and Mr. Dassher drool hopelessly over those little photographs he took.”

“Ah, were I young again. Millicent, believe me in this. We’re I young I would be challenging your Lady to a duel for your paw. You are much worth the having.” He gazed long upon the sight before him, then turned his back upon Millicent. Though with much greater difficulty than the feline would have believed. “Seriously. How did that dress come to your paws.”

“The Leveler” Tatiana admitted, certain that Hawkins knew that name. “Information is was Czar’s, was never used. Has no place in Russia today. Beast Starling itself sent to me.”

“I see. Tatiana. That is a design used by the Czar’s. Millicent is much taller than Anastasia, so it could never have been for her.”

“A question oh mighty British servant” Millicent asked as she slipped on her skirt. “Being as Anastasia was born in 1901. Simply please tell me this. How are you going to pass a not quite nineteen year old off as a thirty six year old.”

Tatiana leaned back, watching the emotions crossing Hawkins face. Hawkins though did not answer for some time. Finally he took a deep breath. “So go the plans of the mighty” he sighed. “So long, I was but twenty four when I met her last. She was the great jester, a wonderful photographer. She created my first wife’s best portrait. All simply to irritate her sister. Tatiana, it is the truth. When I look at you I see her again. Time passes so oddly. Quickly when the heart is light, dragging like an anchor when the heart is heavy. Your Lady is correct. I cannot pass you on as Anastasia or any Romanov alive at that time. Now they are all dead.”

Millicent had started buttoning her blouse, having already returned her dagger to its accustomed place. “I had truthfully wondered Major Hawkins. Though I much love Tatiana and will live where she wishes me to, the thought of helping her live such a lie with both our throats on the block is more than I could manage. I could never bring kittens into a life such as that. If you somehow do place her on the throne of Russia, be well aware that I will be beside her for England’s interest.”

“Among other things” Hawkins agreed. “Tatiana. Tell me what you can of your last meeting. I ask of you no secrets, just what you may tell me.”

Looking over to Millicent, who was slipping the last of her clothing back on Tatiana held up one finger. “Office. Alone” she whispered. Her eyes though were on Millicent, a signal to the English agent that there was information the feline must not know. Not yet.

“Very well. After lunch then.” He turned to his now dressed Most Secret courier. “I will be borrowing your Tatiana after lunch. Will this cause you any difficulties sweet Millicent” he asked.

”None, as long as she is returned to me in the same condition I have loaned her to you” the housecat agreed. “I would much dislike informing my mother in law to be that her daughter was abused by some mean, nasty English agent.” She did though smile, her expression telling Hawkins that she had no worry on that score.

“She is maturing” the bulldog commented.

“Dah. Though if mature much more, will burst buttons” Tatiana agreed. She did though smile to Millicent, then licked her lips in another signal. One only Millicent saw and one that caused the felines heart to race even now.

“I will see you by supper” Millicent asked Tatiana.

“Yes. I cook you nice Russian meal. Stone soup.”

Millicent laughed, a sweet full sound that now lightened the sables soul. “I think not. I have chicken prepared. It will be ready by six. Be home by then or I shall feed it to the guards. You can then howl for your supper.” She picked up her purse, walking towards the door Hawkins had locked. “Coming for lunch dear” she asked.

“Dah. After lunch. Your office” the sable explained to their male companion.

As Millicent opened the door she paused a moment. “Have Mr. Dassher destroy those snaps he took Major Hawkins. As my wife to be wishes to display me to you two, I shall insure that you have something the worth of viewing. If I have both your words no other will see it?”

Hawkins swallowed, covering his nervous answer. “Should your Lady agree” he managed. “I will be delighted to supply signed promises to that effect.”

“Very good. Tatiana, after lunch I will find a photographers shop. His results I will paw deliver to Mr. Dassher upon receipt of those documents. A Lady should not be seen as any base object of simple lust Major. She should be admired, enjoyed for more than simply her body. Still you have both seen all I have to offer. It is best that your imaginations not be allowed to wander into fields best left untouched. Good day sir.”

Hawkins watched the door close before standing. “My has that girl grown up since finding the Russian” he laughed. “I fear for Tatiana. Now that she has woken up, I fear that Millicent will ruin her.”

They were eating at Perrys again when Tatiana broached the subject. “Photograph. You were jesting” she asked.

Millicent looked up from her plate, a blush evident under her facial fur. “Tatty. Twice now you have let these men look upon my body against my desires. You treat me as a street woman, with no modesty. I have no secrets from those two, where I should only have no secrets from you. So I grant them a special photograph, what does it matter anymore?”

“They not know how you wear dagger” the sable offered.

“They will in this photograph. Tatty. I love you. Lately I have come to realize that you do love me as well. At least a little I think. But as much as I do love you, and that more each day I find, I am not an object of property. I am not one of that Mare’s broken women to do whatever I am told. I am a Lady Tatty. I will show my body to whom I wish to see it, and for now that person is only you. In the future, when we select those who will grant me the kittens I know we both so much desire. Then another will see my secretes. Tatty. Please, don’t do this to me again. I beg you.”

Tatiana played with her food, pushing it around on her plate. Had been playing with her food since it arrived. “Milly. Please. My social skills. They are nothing. I have no secrets. Have been used by others when want. Will have to allow in future too. Social skills. You will help me learn such?”

“Dah. If you will cease allowing every male you meet to undress me.”

“Agreed. You still will make photograph?”

“I have given my word Tatty. A woman who does not keep her word is not a woman worth knowing. She is certainly not a woman worth loving. Or trusting.” Millicent looked around them, though they had kept their voices low she was aware that some species would have picked up the conversation. “When you return home this evening, we will speak more about this. Now it is time that I located a trustful photographer.”

Tatiana let her fork drop, her meal almost untouched. “I take you to Double Lotus. Explain to barmaid what need. She send you to trustful photographer. My word Milly, I not do this again unless have too. I apologize.”

“Thank you” the housecat answered. “I truly wish to become useful to my country Tatty. To be useful is important to me. Having a poor reputation simply would not allow this. Now it is your turn to pay as I recall, thus I will be waiting for you at home this evening. With I hope a small surprise that will delight you.”

After walking Millicent to the Double Lotus Tatiana returned to the English Consulate. There she found not only Hawkins and Dassher waiting her, but the greyhound she vaguely knew as Captain Heller. “Millicent’s offer not for Greyhound” she said after the door closed behind her.

“Much to my loss” the greyhound admitted. “Whatever that delightful ladies offer is, which I currently have no interest in knowing. This is not why I am present though.”

“Those two hounds are here because of a Chess game Tatiana. One that is already well in play” Major Hawkins explained. “Please, sit. This will be a very long meeting. Should we hurry then you, and I will make our dinner dates.”

“Ah yes. Certain American darkfur otter doctor” Tatiana answered as she settled into a chair meant for her species. “Would not wish to affect that. You will marry her I think. This meeting. My people will wonder at this meeting.”

“Not to worry this time” Dassher piped up. “I have specific information for you that will interest them. We have a mole, an Italian leaning mole. I have his name. You will meet with him a little before leaving. Alone. I think that will do as a second contact within our hallowed walls?”

“Dah. Most likely. Is maybe using body to get information they think. Controller think that all women for anyway. What is Chess game?”

Carefully Major Hawkins explained what he could about the game currently being played, and Tatiana’s place in it. When he finished the sable stood, walking to the rooms only window. “I owe you life” she admitted after some time. “Two. Mine, Millicent’s.” Still looking out that window she explained everything that had happened in her Consulate, keeping nothing back. “So they too want me as Anastasia” she finished, her voice now emotionally dust dry.

Silence filled the room then. Silence that held as three brains shifted into overdrive. “It could still work” the bulldog decided after several minutes silence. “Alexandra was still young enough, she would have only been forty six in 1918. It is possible, and if Starling starts a witch hunt for this supposed last daughter of the Romanov family. They might just take the hook. I have told you many times Tatiana that you and Anastasia could have been twins.” He opened a drawer, taking out a folder. From it he extracted an eight by ten photograph. “Come look.”

Turning from the window Tatiana walked over to the waiting bulldog, taking from his paw that offered photograph. Holding it she walked to a mirror, studying both photograph and reflection for some time. “My name was Bryzov” she said, her voice flat, emotionless. “Now Wei. Not Romanov. It is nothing more than chance.”

“Chance, fate, truth. Does it really matter” Hawkins asked. “You claim to be a true daughter of Russia. Not a Socialist. To save Mother Russia from Starling. What would you do? Would you become a Romanov?”

“Anything” the sable admitted. Then corrected herself. “Anything but harm Millicent.”

“You do love her” the collie Dassher gasped. “I thought it nothing but an act.”

“Was. At first” Tatiana admitted, still staring at her reflection. “Not now. Mother give gift. Now I feel true love for your Millicent. It is pravda. You have captured me fully. I am turned agent.”

“There was a Tatiana Romanov” Heller offered. “Perhaps. Tatiana, had you any brothers. Any sisters?”

“None.”

“Which of your parents was a sable” he continued.

“Both.” She turned to face the three now watching her closely. “Politics aside. This can not work. I not Romanov. When Grand Duchess see’s me she know truth in moment. Cannot work. I cannot be Tsarina. I not place Millicent’s throat in jaws of hungry bear. We wish family. Cannot place children in death camp.”

“No” Hawkins agreed. “You can’t, only your jaws are for dear sweet Millicent’s neck. Then the Tsarina must fall. She is in truth a poor player in the Game, and has few worthy pieces.”

Tatiana stared at the unsmiling bulldog. “You know? You know and let her into my paws?”

“We knew” Hawkins admitted. “But not until after you already had her heart. I have followed carefully your mothers healing of that woman’s soul. You see a certain ferret gave me open leave to speak to any priestess. This I have done many times since that day. Not only Oharu, there is a rather interesting Priestess on Main Island watching over a certain Svedish citizen for example. These talks have truly opened my eyes about this country. I now believe that there is no chance any aggressor nation will ever again rule here for any length of time. Millicent’s problem is one that cannot be hidden, though she managed longer than I could have believed possible. I took my suspicions to your mother. Oharu worries for your two. It was not difficult to get her to tell me the truth. It was in her eyes to both your best interests that I know. I understand that Millicent wishes to become a diplomat. With this weakness unchecked she could never be allowed near such a position. With you controlling that weakness though. It is possible.”

Tatiana laid the photograph down within Hawkins easy reach. “You give hard choices” she stated. “Mother also make hard choices. I say no, Millicent’s future lost. I say yes, I maybe die as false Romanov. Millicent’s bloody body beside me. What if I turn away now?”

“Millicent will be sent home for treatment tomorrow” Hawkins admitted. “There are rather good sanatoriums in England. They have had promising results with the new treatments.”

“Lobotomy. Extreme electrical shock. I kill her myself first” the sable snapped. “Those not treatment. Those torture. Better send her Cranium Island as diplomatic envoy. At least she believe be doing what dream do. Death be quick there.”

“I believe that one of your fellow students, a Nancy Rote, went to Cranium Island recently” Dassher suggested. “And returned not only alive, but unchanged. That in the least would give young Millicent a chance. Perhaps.”

Tatiana laughed. “Squirrel go Cranium Island marry mad scientist shrew. How long you think before shrew start experimenting on new wife? I give Nancy half summer with shrew before shrew reduces her to mindless toy or worse.”

“That is probably the truth, but it is well beyond our current interests” Hawkins interrupted. “Tatiana, there is more. Millicent is to be bait for a trap. One that could leave her as mindless as that Greek girl your mother brought back. It was a trade done while knowing you would not care what happened to her. It cannot be undone now, even though you have fallen in love with her. Finally.”

“Tell” the sable demanded as her flattened paw hit the table like a pistol shot. “Tell.... All.”

Much later a very unhappy sable knocked lightly upon Millicent’s door. Within moments that door swung wide open, a happy housecat enveloping her conquering hero home. It took her only seconds though to know something was very wrong. “Tell me” Millicent demanded, drawing her love into the building before locking her door behind them.

Walking to the small love sofa Tatiana sat, stood to pull her tail aside and sat again. To her amazement Millicent did not laugh, simply settling on the floor at her feet. “It is important. It involves us. It is dangerous” the cat decided. “Very well, if into the sharks mouth we must throw ourselves, at least may it be holding paws?”

Tatiana smiled, leaning forward to run her fingers through Millicent’s hair. An act that always caused the feline to purr. “Would mind” the sable asked. “If I cut your throat right now? Drank your body dry?”

Millicent leaned back, studying her sables face. “It is then that bad? We are to be sacrificed upon the altar of liberty?”

“Bad enough” the Russian admitted. “Pravda. Is beyond my ability to change. We are but pawns now.”

Millicent gasped. “The chess game” she managed softly. “I have heard father speak of it, when he thought I was not awake. Oh Tatiana, are we truly pawns. To be discarded? Will they at least allow us our marriage? Tell me. Please my dearest. Tell me everything.”

Softly Tatiana repeated everything she had been told, by both sides of that game that she found herself now nothing but a piece to be played in. When she finished Millicent stood. Reaching into that hidden slash within the folds of her skirt she withdrew her dagger. “Tatty. You are the only one who may freely taste my blood. Who will ever freely feast upon my willing body. What you have told me is frightening. It is nothing I ever wanted. None of it. I simply wanted to be a diplomat, to some small forgotten country perhaps. Then somehow that changed, I found that I wanted to be your wife. Even if that meant giving up all my dreams and living in a cottage forgotten by all. I found you worthy of that price. Well worth that price my dear Russian love. But to be expendable bait to slavers? Or as the Tsarina’s wife forever denied children? No Tatty. I never wanted either of those. I do not desire them now.” Tossing her blade on her floor the housecat turned and walked away, moving to stand by her radio in silence, to leave Tatiana to make sense of things.

“Milly. Many your people taken by slavers” the Russian started, then stopped when Millicent opened the radios upper section, taking a record from the pile next to it. “Milly. Please listen. I swear to you. I rescue you myself. This I swear on my name.”

“Not your mothers” Millicent asked icely, setting the record aside to pick up another.

“Which mother” the sable asked. “Oharu Wei, adopted mother? Who want’s I be priestess. Or Mama Krasa. Who I give to OGPU, now NKVD. Milly. I not have right swear on either name. That pravda.”

“Truth” the cat laughed, setting her second record aside as well. “Truth” she repeated in a softer voice. Turning to face her companion she frightened Tatiana with her anger. “WHEN HAVE YOU EVER TOLD ME THE REAL TRUTH” she screamed.

Startled Tatiana almost stood, catching herself only just in time. She had never seen Millicent this angry and wasn’t certain what to do yet.

“You find out my greatest secret. Drug me. Take me to your bed. I was a maiden Tatty. A MAIDEN! Being with a woman, I’d never considered that. And you caused me to love you. Love YOU! I need you now. Even though I am aware that I am nothing but a toy to you. Something to play with then discard when your done. Tatty.”

Millicent took a deep breath, forcing herself to unclench her paws. “Tatty” she continued, her eyes now closed tightly. “I had never been attracted to a woman. Or more likely I never allowed myself to be so attracted. Then you broke through all my walls, all my safeguards. I had my life planned. Oh yes, I was going about it wrong. Thank you so very much for correcting that. I owe you something for that at least. All my life I wanted to be like my father. I listened in to his meetings when he was unaware. I read his writings, the writings of others like him. All his books, his letters. Even the secret ones. I studied hard. And all that time I fought my personal demon believing that I was just like everyone else. Then you waltz into my life. Not only do you shatter my best defenses as though they were dried ancient clay, you take me to Oharu. Oharu who works with me. Opens my mind. Shows me how to deal with this without asking for anything in return. She is like no priest or nun I have ever met. She is kind to me. She has never even asked so much as a thank you or a smile from me, though I have of late freely given them. You though, I am a blouse to wear when you require it, to be tossed aside when you do not. Even then. Even knowing all this I can not stop from falling deeper in love with you. You, a Russian spy who only accepted me because I am your punishment. Yes, your mother told me. Your punishment. Now you throw me to the wolves as bait for slavers, knowing that I will be taken. That I will be abused. That I will not even have a choice in which male I first lay with. Why?”

Tatiana held her paws out, pads upward. “I.. Milly. I..” She too took a deep breath to calm herself. “In so much you are so right. I have used you. Milly. There never was a place in my heart for any woman. So I asked mother. She made a place in my heart for you. A place that never exist, because I discover you do not deserve a loveless life.” She laid her paws on her knees, still pads up. “Before. Yes you were tool. Something to be used. Discarded. Yes, pravda I felt nothing for you. Dah, you are my punishment. Punishment for what I do to birth mother and father. But truth is Milly. I do love you. Please. Please do not make me live without you. I not like to bear such pain. I not strong like mother Oharu. To know you live, that I not able touch you. Not able hold you. Truth Milly. Now I need you.”

“And the slavers? I am just to be icing on their cake?”

“Milly. I have no say that. I try stop, they imprison me. Still use you. We are toys to large forces. Leaves blow in wind. Please Milly. Let me rescue you. Do not have me tear heart apart because you in danger. I not able save you if in prison. Please not to do that to me.” Tears started falling from Tatiana’s face. Tears caused by emotions she could not express, could not understand as yet. “Not do that to me.”

“Then you do love me” the housecat gasped. “That isn’t a lie. Then I am lost, no matter what?”

Tatiana kept her eyes down, looking at her paws and not up into Millicent’s face. “You let me rescue, you not lost. My soul on this. I walk away. Never say anything about weakness. Never see you again. My word.”

Picking up the third platter Millicent looked at its label, turning it over before placing it upon her turn table. Lifting the stylus she placed its needle on the records surface, touching a lever before speaking again. “You leave me Tatiana and I will most certainly curl up and die. There are British subjects lost?”

“Not know how many” the sable admitted. “Some yes. Other countries too. Russia, America, Japan and Spontoon at least.”

“You will save me?”

“Dah, or join you.”

Millicent sucked air between her teeth as she made her decision. “You are aware of Three Moons ships cat” she asked.

“You know?” the Songmark girl gasped, looking up.

“Please. They made all we young ladies watch a film of her. Then listen as Doctor Riverstone explained exactly what had been done to her. A warning not to trust anyone from Krupmark. Yes, I well know.”

“Why ask then?”

Millicent looked down for a moment before answering. “Because” she explained as she looked up again, triggering that lever. “If you find me like that. Promise me that you will feast upon my body. Living like that would be Hell for me.”

“My word. I feast your heart. My word” the Russian agreed, feeling hot tears soaking her facial fur.

Millicent walked to the sitting sable, taking Tatiana’s paws into hers as music began to play. “Then dance with me my love” she whispered as the music of Liszt filled the room. “We will play their game, you will save me and I will bear you many many kittens.”

Elsewhere Major Hawkins laid down the earphones he had been wearing, reaching over to open a switch. Vacuum tubes ceased their ruddy glow as he shoved the entire device into a hidden compartment, covering it with a sliding panel though elsewhere other ears maintained their listening post. A complete transcript of every word said in that building would be on his desk in the morning, and afternoon if the sable remained that long.

“And” the waiting greyhound asked.

“The word is given. Build your foundation well. If the Soviets are doing the same thing use them. Commence shadow operations to make it look like you are hunting the same person” the bulldog answered. “Create whatever evidence you need, I will inform the Home Office by code tonight.” He waited until Captain Heller had left before speaking further. “We almost lost them Dassher” he admitted. “Had not Tatiana’s mother opened that sables heart, and by God that is supposed to be impossible my parish priest kept saying, we would be cleaning up at least one body right now.” He turned around, staring at the standing collie. “I’d give odds on it being two. You gave those papers to the Russian?”

“Our agreements yes. As well as the material from our little mole and the negatives I took” the Dassher answered. “He will be hard pressed to deny Tatiana’s claims now. Seeing as to do so would mean he would have to admit being a mole. Which of course would result in a very messy death. Luck that was, to stumble over him. If it hadn’t been for that attack on Millicent’s quarters we’d have no real clue. That Millicent’s quarters are the reversed letters for our little traitor. That was pure luck.”

“True. Now we will see if our little maid has half the honor her Songbird has already shown. Sherry?”

“Delighted.”

Tatiana pushed herself away from the little table carefully. It was late, it had taken time for both of them to heal each other. Now they understood their true feelings and why. Now they were starting anew. Millicent it had proven was an excellent cook. Apparently someone in her life had given her careful instruction, as the chicken and rice had been the best Tatiana had tasted in years. It was evident to the Russian that her little English kitten might be a self centered girl, she still had been given some useful training by someone at home. Tatiana burped slightly, motioning to her empty milk glass. “Taste different. Like very much. Is sweet. What is from” she asked.

Millicent blushed so deeply that the sable thought her companion would catch on fire, a sure sign she had done something completely out of her social training. “You remember your comment, that I seem a bit larger. Upstairs” she asked, waving her face to cool it.

“Dah. Look same to me really. Still is much more territory to examine for spies each night.”

Millicent blushed even deeper, not speaking until she could breath. “Tatty, you so embarrass me even when we are alone together. Please promise me that you shall not speak so coarsely in front of my father?”

Laughing the sable waved one paw in dismissal. “My word. I do best not to embarrass in front of father. Mother, that another matter. I look forward meeting her.”

“TATTY! Ohh.. Very well. Then have things the way you wish. You remember your mother explaining to us that my weakness can never be completely cured? That only you may keep me from throwing myself to some den of lions one day?”

“Dah, though I think mother make little joke. Mother once cross path mad huntress. She sickened at idea.”

“Yes well. You see Tatty. I spoke with your mother many weeks ago. An idea I had. She listened most carefully to what I had thought up. We spoke for some time, then she meditated upon my idea while I listened to the waterfall. I really do love that little waterfall Tatty. It was with great delight that she allowed me to do this. Still I had to visit a wet nurse first, for instructions.”

“Wet nurse?” Tatiana looked again at the now empty glass, her third that night which had exhausted the supply in Millicent’s little ice box. “That is?”

“My love is forever tainted Tatty. I freely give my love to you but to fully do so, you must consume some part of my body. You mother agreed, my illness went too long untreated. She felt that cutting my body would forever shame you. So I thought of this.”

“But...” Standing the sable move around the table, lifting Millicent’s unresisting form from her chair as if she weighed nothing. “Nyet” she decided after studying the unresisting but now giggling form before her. “You are not with child.”

“Of course not. We have not yet become married Tatty. Thus we cannot as yet select he who will give me the kittens that I will bear for you. I am still quite pure, in that respect. Still it is a wonder how certain herbs made into a tea, taken twice daily will often fool ones body.” She frowned. “You are not angry with me?”

“Nyet” Tatiana admitted, gently releasing the housecat. “Shocked dah. Mad? Nyet. I must have time. Time to digest this new side of you.”

“Oh yes” Millicent giggled. “You will be digesting me a lot. Especially in Hawaii as there may be no icebox in our room I think. Your milk I am afraid will be rather warm.”

This time is was the sables turn to blush.

Sidokha studied the report that had just been placed into his paws. It was from their Italian contact. He smiled as he read that Tatiana had located the Italian’s mole within the English Consulate. Immediately placing him in the unenviable position of feeding her information from the records section as well as the Italians. Giving her those last orders had been the right step. It had refocused her onto her mission, her duty to Starling. Walking to his desk he took out a little code book he carried. Within the hour a message in deepest code was on its way to Moskov.

Bryzov loyal. Begin Project Romanov. Leveler.

In another hour, just after sunset with a certain bear comrade to escort him, the direwolf was on his way to Eastern Island and a waiting military transport. He had not lied this time to Tatiana. Starling had called him back. His talents were needed. Just before his aircraft left the tarmac a large garbage container was loaded upon a waiting barge. Comrade Turnip was no longer a danger to Tatiana, or anyone else.

Near the same time Albert Sapohatan stood in a rather empty movie theater, quietly reading the posters for coming attractions. He noted with disgust that another Shirley Shrine movie was to be released. Something about ancient diamond mines and dancing natives. A soft noise near the protection booth door caused him to turn slowly.

“Knight takes pawn” a deep English accented voice said in Spontoonie.

“Queen takes Knight. Check” he answered, walking over to that darkness. “The Red King has resigned?”

Major Hawkins opened the booth door, walking through without worry. That ferrets men had already swept this theater, though it might not be used again for months or years. “He has accepted that he has done what he wanted. There is yet one pawn to remove as he took the other himself before returning to Moskov. I will take her tonight.”

“An untrusted piece is best taken from the board by oneself, before it does damage to your game.” Albert locked the booth door behind him, walking up to a small machine filled room. “Your decision?”

“Millicent is yours, though that Russian will carve you a new one if she is lost. All went as to plan, so far. The Red King will return. He wishes to watch as his Red Knight carves open her by then useless White Pawn. At least useless to him.”

“I see. And your other plot?”

Hawkins laughed softly. “Can you believe this my friend. Starling has the exact same plan in mind. My new Knight does not like it, she does not believe it will work. Truthfully I do not think so either. It is too complex. Too impossible. Too many have already tried. It would take a proof we cannot find for that to work. If it even exists. Still we shall place certain things into movement. One never knows.”

“I see. Your Queen is with my Queen. Should I sacrifice my Queen to take her?”

“The O’Flynn is here? How surprising. I should think you might try as she is the best piece either of us have.”

“Second best. My Queen met yours in a certain graveyard. It seems she had come to grieve the fall of a friend.”

“So Oharu can do that. I am surprised. Very well, what must I do to recover my Queen” the bulldog asked. “Or is she already lost to me, a collared pet for that mouse like Tatiana became.”

“Nothing. I simply wished to inform you of her presence. And our two lovebirds?”

Hawkins stood, walking over to examine one of the silent projectors. “Tatiana is changing. Millicent is changing, but Millicent will never be an agent. It isn’t in her, she hasn’t the emotional control needed for example. Her time at Madam Maxine’s though is turning her into a real lady, but I mistrust that place.”

“With good reason. They more than train social manners to Huntress’s there. Oh your kitten is safe, since she is now my piece to play. But be careful of any other of your ladies that attend that place. They might return to you somewhat changed.”

“A warning?”

Joining his bulldog companion the ferret shrugged. “You would warn myself. I see no reason to hide from my best friend that truth. Will you marry the American?”

It was Hawkins turn to shrug. “I am courting her as best I can Albert. American’s are so different. One moment I think she is ready to throw herself into my arms, the next a glacier seems to grow between us. It doesn’t help that I am nearly twenty years older than she is. Still she is so beautiful, so intelligent. Why I have barely felt the touch of her paw and I find her in my dreams. No wonder Oharu was nearly captured by her. Even with that Doe already in her heart.”

“Adds character to a man, finding a new companion. She is a lot like your first, remember?” He ran a finger along polished copper, idly thinking of the woman both of them had chased and the bulldog had captured. “Say, do you think that we could arrange Shirley Shrine to defect to the Russians?”

Shaking with disgust Hawkins winced. “The Americans have her. They can keep her. I would shoot her myself should she cross my path. Except to do so would cause many problems for my country.”

“I fully agree. Perhaps we could arrange swimming lessons for her, should she visit these islands again. A blue swimsuit could be found that is her size. My friend, I will follow your little play with interest. Now I must begin my own game. It was good talking with you again. One day you should meet my new wife. I feel that you would find her fascinating.” Turning Albert Sapohatan walked out a second, somewhat smaller door leaving his companion to depart the way he had come in.

Sometime later he opened his homes door to face two rather well kept automatics. “It’s mah husband” his wife explained. Albert calmly took his hat off, placing it on its peg before speaking. “Your Major Hawkins thinks you are with the Priestess Oharu. Perhaps you should see her before you report to him” he announced as he headed towards the kitchen. “She is on South Island, recovering. Catching up on old times?”

“Trying to seduce the O’Flynn into joining our side isn’t catching up on old times” his wife huffed. “She desires a great deal of... Well just say we would be a poorer nation in one respect, richer in another. Besides, as you do remember she is an old friend of mine.”

“Turning your friend to our side simply won’t happen” Albert observed as he poured himself a drink. “Not this friend. She is completely loyal to Ireland. We haven’t the military force required to push the English out, so we are useless to her.” He walked past the two women, nodding to the skunk. “The Commander is dead” he whispered.

“Ahn by your people” the skunk asked.

“He hunted upon our lands. Without permission. Worse, one of his prey was to be one of our priestess.’s That simply cannot be allowed. Not even to you my dear.” Turning to his wife he pecked her on the cheek. “I will be in my office if you need me. Try to keep the moans to a low roar. And air out the room when your done.”

Elizabeth stuck her tongue out at her departing husbands back. “Men. One track minds all of them.”

“Which is good” her companion observed. “Else we would find ourself in diffaculty ah controllin them. Now, you were ah saying about China?”

March 13^th, 1937

Millicent woke when Tatiana returned to the bed. Sunlight was just beginning to peep through her bedroom curtains and her love was already awake. That Tatiana had visited the water closet was evident. “You did sleep well” she asked.

Tatiana sat on the bed, looking down at the sprawled form of her wife to be. Even now she found it hard to accept that she was going to marry this woman. For Starlings orders had been direct, her adopted mothers explanation clear. Yet even at this instant her love for the feline was just that much more than love for a sister. It was going to take some serious changes within herself the sable knew. She was going to have to enlarge that thimble in her heart, but carefully. Oh so carefully. “With you. Sleep is sweet” she admitted. “Must leave soon” she explained. “Must report to Russia, then return to Songmark. Before pass expire at noon.”

“Then I must prepare for you a breakfast” Millicent decided, throwing her covers off. “I will not have it said that my most important guest, the future Tsarina Tatiana Romanov herself, was forced to leave my home with an empty stomach. Please, give me in the least that much time.”

Shaking her head in disbelief Tatiana found Millicent’s discarded robe, giving it to the woman before she herself started turning the bed down. By airing the bed linens they stayed fresher Millicent had informed her. Though they must be washed weekly, yesterday had been Millicent’s wash day. When she had done that small task Tatiana again sat on the bed. It had been designed for one. In truth it was not that much more comfortable than her own Songmark bed. Unless Millicent was in it. ‘I have truly taken her into my heart’ the sable thought, running a flattened paw along the place Millicent had laid that night, with Tatiana laying over her, using her soft form as a living mattress. “She is truly a sweet woman” she whispered. Finally standing again Tatiana located her own clothing.

Last night they had simply cuddled, healing from the argument that had almost destroyed their still fragile relationship. It was a fight that could not have been won by either, yet had been too important for either to lose. Compromise. That was what had been needed. So much was the young Russian learning about sharing her life with anyone. Compromise had not been in her vocabulary before attending Songmark. She had not truly understood its true meaning until last night. So much about her was changing.

A little over an hour later, with Millicent’s musk still heavy upon her Tatiana walked into her consulate. “I am to report” she explained in perfect Russian to the short dour looking rat that served as receptionist. “To Comrade Milken.”

“Very Good” the rat hissed, his tobacco stained teeth looking like rotted stumps shoved into bleeding gums. Picking up one of the many phones (only three truly functioned Tatiana had discovered) he dialed a number. “Comrade Milken. Comrade Bryzov to report. Yes. Thank you.” Hanging up the phone he examined the waiting woman, quite obviously inhaling the combined scents coming from her. “She will see you” he finally reported, his curiosity answered. Tatiana left him to his phones and whatever imagination might be in that tiny head as she walked down a well known hallway.

There was a difference to the office she noted as she entered. It was lighter, had been aired out and several rather ponderous pieces of furniture had been replaced. Though the new furniture was not in that much better shape, their more delicate style reduced the rooms normally heavy atmosphere quite well. “Welcome Comrade Bryzov” the racoon said in greeting, standing to offer her paw. It was something the bear had never done, and had he done so it would only have only been in order to try and pull Tatiana to a well worn couch. Taking the racoon’s paw in her own Tatiana was surprised at the firm but not over bearing grip of the other woman.

“It is not always a pleasure to have NKVD in my office Comrade. Please sit. You need water?”

“Thank you no Comrade” the sable answered, selecting the best chair for her form that was nearest the desk. “I am to report that all goes well with the English subversion. She is falling well into my grasp, though even now that control is very delicate. Also that I have made contact with an English turncoat working for the Italians. Finally” she opened her Songmark jacket, removing a rather thick envelope from an inside pocket. “I have these reports given me by him. I can not verify their truthfulness.”

Leaning over her desk to accept the envelope Comrade Milken gave her thanks. “It is a start” she admitted as she sat. “My predecessor, may he sleep forever, was not very good with you Tatiana. I have no interest in women, nor had I been your controller then would I have given you certain orders regarding the Englishwoman. Is it your desire to withdraw from the English tart? I will gladly allow such.”

Tatiana winced behind the mask that was her face. “Throw away Millicent” she asked. “After I have worked so hard, no. In any case The Leveler demands I continue. He has promised that when she is no longer of use I may send her to the same place my previous controller now apparently resides. He is truly dead?”

“By the levelers own paw” Milken reported. “It was quick.”

“Then my instructor had little time. I remember his training well” Tatiana admitted. “He so likes to take days, not seconds.” She was pleased to observe the racoon’s shocked expression, though she made a point of not expressing that pleasure in her own face. “I remember an otter. A German who had been found in a very secret building. We took four days before offering his still beating heart to the fire. He told us a great deal. Too bad he was such a good agent, for only in the last hours did he tell any truths we discovered. Those being useless by then.”

“I see” the racoon managed to say. “This is a warning?”

“Yes. Do not cross The Leveler. Even I, his favorite, would not dare do such. Deep within his heart he hates all women. I do not know why. Even I, though he uses me when he has need. You have further instructions for me?”

“Yes. Yes I do.” Opening a drawer the racoon dropped Tatiana’s envelope into it. Removing a thinner one she held it out to Tatiana. “From your instructor. I do not know what he says. I find now that I do not wish to know. I will see you next week?”

Standing Tatiana took that unwanted envelope. “No. I am told I will have no further passes for two weeks. If it is important, have it brought to the gate. They do not read personal mail. Do not perfume the paper, my classmates do read my love letters from Millicent. Until I come again.” She saluted, turned and left the office her duty done. For today.

That same morning while Millicent and Tatiana lay in bed Florence Farmington, second year Songmark student looked forward as the rented water taxi she shared with other Songmark girls eased up to a Casino Island pier. As the last mooring line was made fast she waited until her friends had departed before standing. Stepping carefully onto the well cared for pier she turned to look back at Eastern Island, and her school. Mrs. Oelabe had spoken to her after last weeks venture with Prudence’s dorm, and had not been happy at all with her answers.

‘Tis your life to ruin” The nurse had explained. “Young Nikki though. You take care around her. Tis my feeling she is the worst to ever graduate from Songmark.” Then she had been sent off, though not without a reminder to write a report of her ‘adventure.’ A clear and very concise report. Writing that report had embarrassed the hound more than the experience itself. Still nothing had been said by her instructors. Not then. This time though... Clutching the pocket that held her precious letter of introduction the hound turned and almost ran up the dock.

“Officer” she asked several blocks later. “Will you please assist me?”

At her words the uniformed wolf turned towards her, a look of disgust upon his face until he realized that Florence was not a member of Crusader Dorm. “Ah what would ah gentle lass as yerself need help with” he asked. His Scott’s accent was still heavy even after so many generations upon Spontoon.

“137 Aloha Avenue. Which way is it please” she asked, putting all the grace she had into that question.

“Noh why ye be ah wanting tah go there lass. Tis high class there tis.”

“I have a message to deliver. A favor involving Lady Allworthy” Florence lied. It honestly wasn’t that great of a lie really. The message had been written by Amelia after all, any test would prove that it was in the English felines own paw. Still it wasn’t really a favor for Amelia. It was a favor, a very heavy favor that she now owed to the British housecat. To repay it Florence knew would be costly to her. Still a little lie was better than the truth. At least in this one case.

“Ah, tha Lady Allworthy it is then. Then ye be ah wantin tah take it tah Countess Rachorske I think. Must be tha letter tha been awaitin so long for. Come, I’ll jus escort yah tah her gates.”

Thus Florence, to her great embarrassment found herself being escorted to a rather impressive set of gates. Once there the officer tipped his hat to her. “Tis ah good thin she’s ah doing fer Spontoon young lass. Tis ah great sacrifice she pays fer us.” he said before returning to his patrol.

Walking up to the ornate buildings front door Florence felt well out of place even in her Songmark best. Perhaps, she thought, she should have joined her dorm mates at the Lotus. ‘But I am not ready for that. Certainly not as yet’ she admitted to herself. She might never be ready she decided. Not for that. Reaching up Florence knocked on the door.

It took so long before anyone answered that she had stepped down from the porch to leave. Then the door opened and a much older female wolf looked out. “You are looking for?” she asked, her accent most very Russian.

“Nuala Rochorska” Florence answered, giving her own name while reaching into her pocket for her envelope. “I have a letter of introduction from Amelia Burns-Phillips.” Walking back up the stairs she approached the sliver-grey wolf, her enveloped extended. “You are Miss Rochorska?” she asked.

“Oh no. I am but her mother” the wolf corrected. “She is not home at this time. Yet I do expect her within the hour. Are you able to wait?”

Looking around the porch Florence noted several rather comfortable outdoor pieces of furniture. “Certainly. Thank you Mrs. Rochorska.” She made for one of the chairs only to have the wolf laugh. “Inside dear, and it is Countess. There never was a Count Rochorska I am afraid. Is much a long story. A very private story.”

Steeling herself Florence followed the wolf into that great home, amazed at what was, and was not there. Gracious yes, but not the overly ornamented folly she had seen in photographs of pre-Starling Russian homes. “This is not” she started before catching herself. A proper Lady did not speak ill of her Hostess’s home, no matter its state.

“Not ornate?” woman behind her asked. “Once yes. I would have lived is such splendor. Times change young Songmark. One day one may live in riches, the next find herself running through deep snow from hungry Cossacks with nothing but a few coins to her name. If that. Splendor requires generations, I am but the first. And old.”

Suitable chastised Florence made to turn for the door, only to feel the wolf’s paws on her shoulders. “Do not” the older woman warned. “To be mistaken is acceptable. To run away, a crime. Please. I will gather tea, or coffee.”

“Tea please. And I am sorry.”

“Sorry?” the Russian asked as she guided Florence to a waiting chair. “It was not you who murdered my life. It was not you who left me to freeze in the darkness. Do not take upon your shoulders that which is never yours to bear. Now sit, we shall chat of better things yes?”

“Yes” the hound agreed, seeing no other way out of this pit she was energetically digging for herself. The chair she discovered was amazingly comfortable. To have such in her dorm at Songmark. The young woman giggled softly, there would be blood fights over who slept in it each night. Still... Her paw slid down the chairs silken arm, her memory filing away for future needs that soft luxurious touch. While she waited Florence more carefully looked about her. This was a seamstress’s home, a seamstress who’s works were beyond luxury she realized. Dress’s hung on display, dresses that would cling, enhance rather than hide. Her Aunt Tanya was a seamstress and Florence was certain that she would kill to work with such cloth. Standing again she approached one of those dresses, reaching out carefully to touch its cloth with the back of a finger, so as not to catch the cloth with an errant clawtip.

“It is for Empress Tatiana Romanov” Countess Rochorska explained from behind the hound. “For when she returns to the throne.”

Spinning around Florence found that she could not quite hide her embarrassment. “Tatiana. Empress?” she asked.

Setting on a table a tea set that would have graced a palace Countess Rochorska joined Florence, taking the gown down from its place. “It is unfinished of course” she explained. “I have much work yet. Then a match for her English wife must be created.”

“But. Tatiana? An Empress?”

Countess Rochorska brushed the rich cloth with the back of one paw, seemingly looking to some place far away. “The blood feathered monster thinks to have wiped out all our great rulers from this Earth” she explained. “The White bitch thinks to make herself Tzarina. Were the Empress still alive she would know her own child.” Her eyes seemed to find focus again. “I spent many years in the palace time and again. A visitor yes, but a favored visitor. Romanov blood cannot be hidden. No matter the paint used. We know her, we protect her.” She carefully replaced the dress, brushing her paws along its length one last time before turning away. “There are secrets child, and there are secrets. Now, you wish sugar with your tea?”

Florence found herself having a delightful time with the Countess Rochorska until the time that her daughter returned home. “My daughter Nuala” the Countess said in introduction as an obviously mixed breed young woman entered the room. She then turned her full attention to her daughter, who looked very tired to Florence. “Lady Allworthy has sent this one to us Nuala” she explained. “Not as one of us, but one searching.”

“There are many Priestess for searchers mother” Nuala replied, gracefully setting her purse upon a small hall table. “I cannot help her in such matters.”

“This is a different search Nuala” the Countess explained. “A search we are well acquainted with.”

Florence stopped herself from speaking, though she very much wanted too. She hadn’t yet been formally introduced. To speak in such company, even though the daughter was so obviously a Huntress was not proper. Settling herself she waited in silence.

“Well bred” Nuala continued. “Mother, she as a letter of introduction from our sister?”

“Child” the Countess asked, watching Florence’s emotions play across that so expressive face. So she hadn’t known all about the Lady Countess Rochorska realized. So many plays held at that school. So many secrets in a place designed to ferret out such. Just as it was in her own society.

Florence withdrew the precious envelope from her jacket, standing to carry it to Nuala. As gracefully as she could manage she placed that still warm paper in the older woman’s open paw, then stepped back. Nuala carefully opened the envelope with a small knife that appeared as if magic from nowhere, sliding its glass sharp edge through the paper then causing that deadly little blade to vanish as quickly as it had appeared. “Lady Allworthy saved my live, I am much within her debt. A debt that I fear cannot be repaid in full. Now let us see what price does she ask of me this time.”

Nuala read in silence, quite aware of the nervous hound standing near her. It was a small payment she realized, this time. One day Lady Allworthy might demand payment in full, should she do so Nuala knew that she would have to offer that payment freely. Yet this was nothing more than she would have done for anyone, with enough funds. Looking up she studied the face before her. There were certain types, fun seekers they were called. Florence showed no hint of such a person.

“You have taken time with Nikki’s American woman” she asked softly.

“A favor” Florence admitted. “Prudence arranged it.”

“Favor” Nola repeated, signaling to her mother even as she took Florence’s paw. “I have an office. To come with me please?”

Florence followed the older woman, her scent filling the air about the hound in an almost intoxicating way until they entered a rather plain office with many different style seats. “Please to be seated” Nuala announced as she walked to the back of a plain, yet well built desk. Settling down herself she fingered the letter for a moment before speaking. “You realize that Nikki will ask payment for loan of woman” she explained softly.

“I had assumed such” Florence admitted. “Prudence has told me of what Nikki likes.” She barely controlled a shudder. “I do not believe that I can do such things.”

“If payment is demanded, you must. Now as to this letter. Please to explain your difficulties.”

Carefully, and in great detail Florence explained her problem. How she missed being with males, how her family history was such a disaster regarding even the most modern precautions to how such an accident would ruin her career. Worse, to gather to her a disease that would leave her forever unable to have children. “To lose Songmark for a few minutes pleasure” Florence ended. “I hoped that I would be able to accept a female companion. At least until my schooling is complete. Then, well children are a large part of my plans.”

“So you want a Huntress only for pleasure” Nuala asked. She was not being cruel, she was building up a complex equation of Florence’s needs and the women she had available. Already she had discarded many of the names she had simply because Florance was Songmark.

Florence blushed at that question. “Pleasure yes. Companionship too. One to trust not of Songmark, though I hold no illusions that anything I say will not reach my instructors ears. Someone to walk with, see the things I would not see. I could. I could go to the Lotus. Find a companion but what if she fell in love with me? I don’t want a lifetime companion. Women are acceptable yes, but I wish a family. A strong male to hold me. So to harm the feelings of another. I would prefer not to have that happen.”

Nuala did understand. Though Florence was the first Songmark girl to come her way of her own free will, she was not the first woman with such a problem to speak to the Huntress in such a way. “And you would like to experience?”

“I think...” Florence blushed so hard that the Huntress thought she might catch fire. “Everything. To find what I like, and don’t. I do know that I am not like Clay. I would never accept being owned.”

“I see. You must be aware in front the cost.” She named a price that had Florence catch her breath, then nod in agreement.

“That I can afford” she admitted. “Barely.”

“Then you must let me contemplate a moment.” Nuala didn’t really have to think, there was only one available Huntress for Florence’s problem at the moment. In fact had already been arranged by another. Though how Florence might react to that vixen was another matter. She was known for being possessive where long term customers were involved. Even so, there honestly wasn’t a better choice. At least not until Tanya and Jean had their pups. Opening a drawer in her desk she withdrew her special letterhead. While Florence watched Nuala wrote, explaining Florence’s problem, the agreed upon price and a simply guideline. Guideline that simple informed the other woman to ‘tread carefully, for she is unknown as yet.’ Sealing her letter within a matching envelope she offered it to Florence. “She will meet you across from the Double Lotus within the hour. A vixen. She will know you.” Standing Nuala guided her visitor to the front door. “It is my hope that you find what you need Florence. Though we are not Songmark, your school is important to our nation. To aid her students is an honor.”

As Florence left she abruptly realized by a coolness that Nuala had held her paw against Florence’s buttocks since guiding her out of the office. It was a realization that caused her to again blush, but not stay her course.

Behind her Nuala watched as the hound walked away, her trained eye noting that furtive glance as that realization struck her. She smiled, more to herself than to the departing hound. Lady Allworthy had sent her first real customer. Perhaps she was accepting the position offered her. Even if not, she certainly deserved her cut of this transaction. If all went well this Florence would become a weekly customer, and Gilda certainly needed a steady non-abusive customer since last Tourist season. Returning to her office she made a short phone call, then pulled out a brand new ledger already titled simply Lady Allworthy.

Florence waited across from the Double Lotus nearly an hour before a well dressed vixen arrived. Certainly that wasn’t a Huntress Florence thought. She was to well dressed, to proper. Yet the woman made a bee-line to the sitting hound, stopping before her. “I am Gilda” she announced. “Nuala informed me that a message you might have for me?”

“Uh... yes” Florence managed, reaching into her jacket for the envelope.

“Not here child. Not in the open as though we were standing on Old China Dock. You are aware of my wages?”

“I am, and I... Yes” Florence agreed.

“Then let us walk. We must talk, so that I will understand you the better. Then perhaps we will find ourselves in a private place. Or perhaps you may find yourself returning to Songmark with your money still in purse. That message still hidden within your jacket.” She held out a paw, accepting Florence’s paw as she rose. “The gardens are peaceful this time of day. Shall we?”

“I. I guess” Florence agreed. She stood, gently pushing the chair back in its place before following her companion to the gardens. In her mind she was still debating if this were the right choice. After all there were so many unattached young males about. Once in a while couldn’t be that bad. Could it? Then she remembered the diseases Mrs. Oelabe had shown them, how a woman could be rendered incapable of having a child simply by contracting certain infections even the once. No, she would be careful, her eventual chosen would have a fruitful wife, not a barren desert. Just as importantly there was her own family history. A history that seemed to say ‘kiss a boy and swell.’ It wasn’t really that bad Florence knew, but not one precaution had ever stopped a female in her family from eventually swelling. Not one, other than complete abstinence. So she followed Gilda, walking a step behind and to the right of the wonderfully dressed vixen. Still her paw held within the vixens. This would be better than nothing, and in all truthfulness nothing was driving her mad with desire.

They walked, Gilda showing Florence certain blossoms that she found delightful. She pointed out the less noticed portions of the gardens. Places delicate, but hidden from the quickly scanning eye of a normal tourist. She stopped at a rather odd display of tiny, five bladed blue flowers. “These are my favorite” Gilda explained. “They are Forget me Nots. Are they not delicate?”

“Very” the hound admitted. She kneeled to better see the tiny flowers, discovering what Gilda already knew. They were delicate yes, as was their scent. Attractive as they were she resisted reaching out with her free paw to pluck one. “I must have these in my garden, when become a mother” she decided as she stood. “They are quite attractive.”

“As you are” the vixen noted. “Come, I will show you my garden. Perhaps you will find something there that you enjoy as much.” It took Florence ten full steps following the older vixen before she realized what Gilda truly meant by those words.

Surprisingly Gilda lived further back from Casino Islands main business area than Florence had expected. Her home actually having a view of South Island and was set in a small walled enclave of like homes. “This is where most Huntress live. This little place” Gilda explained. “We rarely bring anyone here.”

“Then why myself” Florence asked.

Gilda smiled, taking the hounds free paw into her own. “Sometimes. When feel right we do bring someone home. Never tourists, but Songmark girls are not tourists. Are they?”

“No, I guess we aren’t. Not after the first year. This is your house” she asked as they stopped at a soft blue painted home.

“Yes. My home. I have worked many years to afford to live here. I will retire here. Perhaps with children, when I find one I like.” she released both of the hounds paws, waving towards the homes front door. “Please, come in.”

They entered a small home that was neatly kept. Gilda indicating a chair that would accept the hounds form before sitting herself. “Now you tell me, what is it exactly that you wish to experience. ‘Everything’ Nuala said. That covers such a very very wide area. What did you learn with Nikki’s woman that you liked, and did not like. It will help me to understand you the better. And Florence, when you leave, that is when you pay. Not before. Simply drop it in that large vase by the door. You are Songmark, I trust Songmark.”

Understanding the hound repeated to her hostess what had happened with Clay. What she had liked, loved, disliked and was unsure as yet about and was certain about. “It was my first real time” she admitted at the last. “I don’t think that you can define two teenage girls fumbling about during overnights to each others homes as sex. Sylvia and I were only playing about, it truly meant nothing to either of use. A bit of naughty fun, nothing more.”

“It’s often a healthy outlet for young girls” Gilda agreed. “Please wait, while I decide exactly what I am going to do to you” she finished.

While Gilda thought Florence looked about her. It was an almost typical native style room. With what looked to be photos of family or friends on top of a large cabinet style radio. In truth it seemed to be a family home, or more the home of a single young woman who was doing well professionally. Florence blushed. Of course Gilda was doing well, she was a Huntress. A very attractive one.

“Florence” Gilda said softly, breaking into the hounds thoughts. When Florence looked to the vixen she was smiling. “I know what you are thinking, I sometimes wander with the same thoughts. Yes, I am a successful Huntress and will be for another ten or twelve years. Then I shall retire from ‘active duty.’ There is something that you need to know that not many think about. Let us take your day here for example. What you pay me, half goes to my home village. Another twenty percent to the Huntress Guild. I keep but thirty crowies of every shell that I earn. But this isn’t why I am expensive. I am expensive because I am good. Very very good at my chosen profession. Now you might wonder about those twenty crowies of each shell that I pay the Guild. A part is kept for payment to the one who sent you. Her commission, if she is a Huntress. As Lady Allworthy is such, it will be deposited into her account. Parts go to maintain the Guild, to train new Huntress’s and hunters, to maintain this little enclave. Then there are health concerns, doctors bills and taxes. Yes, we must pay for our licenses, a weekly health checkup and other things. A tourist leaves Spontoon with nothing he did not arrive with, unless he buys it. Well,” she actually blushed, catching her hound visitor by surprise. “Memories, and a very much thinner wallet of course. Now if you will come with me, I do believe that I know what your ‘everything’ is. No pain, no blood, no forcing.”

She stood and walked two steps. “And Florence, should you ever wish to stop, the word for you is Gold.”

“Gold” the hound repeated, standing to follow the older vixen not into her bedroom, but through a thicker, soundproofed door.

Very late that evening a much poorer, sorer and very satisfied hound took a water taxi back to Eastern Island. Gilda had been right, and only once had Florence said the word gold. That only because of an unexpected cramp, a cramp that Gilda had spent a great deal of time caring for. Yes, a very good day she thought as she looked back towards Casino Island. A good day, and they had explored only a very little of that ‘everything’ that Gilda had decided was for her customer.

When she went through the gate it was to a surprised pair of student guards. Gilda had marked her Florence knew. Not with pen, blade or word. But as a vixen would mark that which was hers. Oh would her roommates be asking questions tonight. Tonight, and every night after she could afford another day with her newest teacher.

It was a very relaxed, very satisfied hound that laid upon her hard bed that night. Laid and did not sleep, for she had memories. One being of holding a leash as the older vixen had kneeled before her, those beautiful eyes looking at her filled with trust.

Meanwhile on Casino Island Gilda was visiting a certain mare. She too was relaxing, enjoying the coffee that Clay had brought while she spoke with Nikki. “You have specific plans for that one” she asked, her eyes following the American as she left.

“Not gonna marry ‘er” Nikki admitted. “Gonna give ‘er as ah gift. Only way outta from unner tah Allthing.”

“To” Gilda asked with some interest.

“Yer newest student ‘o course” Nikki answered calmly. “She will be tah righ one?”

Gilda smiled, a smile that was filled not only with humor, but rather pleasant memories. “Oh yes Nikki. When I have finished with that one she will be the perfect owner for such a slave. You will gain exactly what you are paying me for. Complete, expert training of an Adventuress so that she may care for her own personal assistant. One who will look after her records, her journals, her supples and herself. You are teaching your American skills that Florence will need an assistant to have? Other than her knees I mean.”

“Business, hagglin, aircraft repair ahn even sum navigation. Cantonese ah Polynesian ‘course. Medical stars next month. Then ah fire her in mah furnace. Her new name’ll be Crystal.”

“Crystal. Very pretty Nikki. Of course, when you wish you have quite a romantic soul. After all, traveling with only a small group into deepest dangerous territory to recover your love? Oh yes I have much enjoyed reading that story many times now.” Gilda sighed a bit wistfully. “It is a dream of all with our souls, that one should do such for us. But Tomah died in that last raid. I shall have no strong male to pull me from the quicksands embrace.”

“Ah lost Louise, foun Malou. Yah lost Tomah wha, three years ahgo? Nother will come. Tah drag yah away from yer life intah a tiny grass shack. Tha dig tarou root, tah have babies, tah warm his stinkin hide after ah lon days work.”

Gilda giggled, the vixen almost losing her drink. “Leave my home for that? Never Nikki. I will have children, but they will not be raised in a tiny bug infested grass shack. No, they will be raised in a large stone bug infested home. I would like to watch, as you expose your clay to the fires that will change it to something of beauty. You will allow?”

“Voyeress” the mare shot back.

“But of course. It is a failing of mine. Will you allow?”

“Give yah ahn hour notice” Nikki agreed. “But yah don’t join in.”

Gilda laughed. “Join with you? That will never happen my friend. I kneel for no one but my students. And when I find him, my husband.”

Nikki nodded in agreement. “Ah teach ‘em tah bend tha knee, you teach ‘em how tah hold tha leash. We counter well, tha two of us.”

“Yes” Gilda agreed. “We do counter each other well.”

Finally asleep on her board hard bed Florence Farmington had no idea of the future being prepared for her, though her instructors well knew.