CHAPTER 1

There is a First Time for Everything

I’ll never forget the first time I died. You will have that memory engraved in your mind for eternity. It was an early morning when my life ended slowly, painfully, and with my last thought focused on castrating the man who killed me. You will never know true pain until your lungs fill with blood and you are gasping for air. That morning, I pulled my best friend, Isalia, from the hands of that bastard husband of hers, and my reward was pain. But let me back up a little and start a moment before those events, just to give you a taste of my day and how everything came to pass.
This all happened on the morning of the Day of the Stars. It was so early. The morning sun had barely risen. I had to go and have a talk with the High Priest at the Sheshlia Cathedral. Women like me can’t be seen in a church during the daytime or evenings, so if we want to pray, we must go at dawn. I didn’t care for prayer. I cared for my coin. I’m a businesswoman, or at least I was at the time. Do you know about business? If you don’t, it doesn’t matter. Knowing will not make this story any more surreal.
In any case, one of the older priests had availed himself of the services of two of my youngest girls, and he had not paid. You see, I am Madame Calixta Harlow Carlyle, the youngest brothel owner in the port city of Talbert. I owned and managed the Shining Star, the only brothel in Talbert that offered the services of an Exotic—me. I am an exquisitely trained woman, as all Exotics are. I was educated from a very young age in the arts of singing, dancing, letters, numbers, poetry, science, the arts of seduction, and sexual pleasures. I am trained to entertain the wealthiest of men and satisfy their every whim, including their sexual desires. Needless to say, Exotics are only available to those who can afford them.
But let’s get back to the High Priest. So, the old goat was officiating the service that morning, not his minion who owed my brothel the coin and who had avoided paying. Might as well go to the owner of the place—visit the head of the organization to save myself time and grief. I love that old adage that says if you want something done, don’t talk to the monkeys, go to the circus owner. I wasn’t about to let a sniveling little mongrel get away with a free ride, no pun intended. There is nothing free in this world, and that includes well-paid prostitutes.
My trade is considered undesirable by most of the women of this town, but we are as much a part of our society as the bakers and the farmers. I never cared what any of the Sheshlia women used to say about me. They did not pay my taxes. Society gave me my trade tattoo, and regardless of my prostitute status, being a well-paid Exotic was, in the end, the same as being a wife; I just had multiple wealthy husbands.
So, after spending an hour waiting for the old man to finish his sermon, I walked through the middle of his church all the way to his altar. I did not have to shout or raise my voice. Everyone in the wretched city knows Madame Calixta Carlyle. I went to him and held his hands.
“I have never seen you in my parish, Madame Carlyle. Are you converting? Are you contrite from your many sins?” asked the High Priest.
“You know why I am here. Your Priest Fenlo owes me coin. So, pay up!” I said with my head bowed, but firmly holding the old Priest’s hand.
“Leave my church, sinful whore,” said the High Priest.
“First, I am an Exotic the likes of which you will never be able to afford, not a lowly whore. Second, if you don’t want me to return during the day and start an Exotic erotic show in the middle of your church and telling everyone the perverted little details of Priest Fenlo’s visits and what he likes to do with my youngest girls, you must pay me the coin he owes me. Now!” I held on tight to both his hands, as all believers did when asking for forgiveness, whilst delivering my threats in a whisper so only he could hear. The sniveling old man opened his eyes wide and looked at me. I was all dolled-up and beautiful, just like I am always. He trembled, and a drop of sweat fell, tracing the edges of his round face.
“Wait, and do not make a scene,” said the High Priest.
It was all it took. The old man turned around very discreetly, dug into the offerings box behind him, took out my girls’ fees, and paid me. I kissed his hands as was customary and left. For the few in attendance, I was a contrite sinner. Hah! What I am, is a concerned businesswoman, believe me. I returned to my establishment with the due coin in my purse. And you better believe when I say, I had no second thoughts about my actions.
Anyway, on that Day of Stars—the day I died—I was walking back from the church to my establishment when I saw from a distance up the road that some type of brawl was taking place. I heard loud screams and people shouting. I ran the last few steps to my brothel. When I entered my home, I found mayhem.
“All you ‘puttanas’ must step away; this doesn’t concern you. Isalia, come with me now!” demanded Todd, her abusive husband. Todd pushed Miomi to the brothel floor. He had a firm grip on Isalia’s arm, pulling her out from the group of women’s hold. He was manhandling her, not appearing to care about her welfare or her clothing tearing in the process.
“You thought you were taking my bambino from me?” Todd spat at Isalia as he talked.
The morning bouncer was fighting two other men who came with Todd. Chairs were flying, splinters of wood littered the floor, the men were punching each other, and the smell of sweaty fighting filled the entrance to my brothel.
“Todd, desgraciado, let her go,” said Miomi from the floor.
I ran in as he was turning to leave. Todd walked straight into me at the entrance, while he was still pulling my dearest friend, Isalia, by her arm. I had the element of surprise, so I pushed Todd as hard as I could and pulled Isalia out of his grasp at the same time. Todd fell, but quickly stood back up.
“Get out of the way, puttana. Isalia vieni adesso. You are not taking my son from me.” Todd pulled out a gun as he spoke and waved it, indicating that I should move aside.
“No, she stays here. I will not let you hurt her,” I said, as I pushed Isalia behind me and tried to keep my voice firm, and stood tall.
BANG! He didn’t ask me to move again or say another word. He just fired his weapon. I recall that Isalia was tucked safely behind me, and some Sheshlia women were walking on the other side of the road who stopped and watched the scene unfolding in my house of sin.
He must have caught me at an angle because the force of the bullet pushed me back a few steps, but I didn’t bump into Isalia, although I still clung to her. No … I have somehow turned around and propelled toward the doorsteps. I touched my chest. Blood was on my hands. Todd tried to pull Isalia from my hand, but I could not and would not let go.
“NO! LEAVE!” My voice came out strong. But I was losing my footing and put out my arm to steady myself, touching Todd’s chest in the process. He looked down and saw my blood on his shirt and then realized there were people watching from across the street. His face changed from showing anger, to shock. He stepped back, away from me, and ran out the door.
That’s when I finally lost my balance. I staggered down the steps from my brothel, trailing drops of blood; one, two, three, so on, and then the last, onto the sidewalk. My hat flew off and pulled out the bindings of my hair. Another sin: hair being loose in public. My chest hurt.
First, it felt like a fire-ant bit me in the center of my chest. Then a sensation of cold sweat springing up on the back of my neck overtook me. I could feel liquid flowing, which I thought was sweat, but it was my blood. After the initial shock—pain. I hurt so much, like someone had kicked me in my chest. And then I started to feel as though I were drowning; I could not breathe. My lungs filled with liquid. I was drowning in my own blood.
Strangely, I can remember my last moments with vivid clarity: my hand on my chest, blood, feeling disgusted, a metallic taste in my mouth, and the smell of cordite in my nostrils—a memory that stays with you, the smell of gun powder. And then a sensation of release; even feeling the blood oozing from the bullet hole. My legs gave way and I fell to my knees. A trembling body, hands shaking uncontrollably; so cold, both my hands and feet were icy. Everything was happening fast and at the same time. My ears rang with a constant high-pitched binging noise, and little dots of colors floated over my eyes. The bing turned to bang-bang in my ears. There were more bullets, scuffling, and shouting all around me. Screams, more bangs—so much noise.
Two other men left the brothel, pushing my women out of their way, and running. They clambered into a horseless carriage where Todd was apparently waiting and shouting at the men. Finally, Todd left, but Isalia and her unborn child were safe. My one friend of many years was safe.
“Calixta’s shot! Miomi come over here, fast. She’s hurt,” said Isalia, as she ran down the steps towards me.
That finite moment of life and the awareness of imminent death came over me suddenly. I remember sitting on the sidewalk. I remember my hands were covered in mud, but I recall thinking how it hadn’t rained in days. Someone had urinated in front of my brothel—it was urine-mud.
“Hate filth … hate dirt,” I whispered. And then I fell sideways, watching a woman running towards me. I blinked. All around me turned endlessly, and I seemed to turn around the world. I tried to breathe.
Pain … my chest … was covered by blood; then the smell of urine and mud.
Filth, pain, muck. I could barely breath, my lungs could not draw in enough air. Now, I could no longer breath in or out at all. I gasped once, twice. Miomi held my head. Isalia was crying; her tears were falling on my arm. I blinked.
I was so tired. I closed my eyes, and that was all.
…
…
…
But then, I was pulled out of my body. I could see my head and the backs of people surrounding me. I rose above and saw my beautiful friend, Miomi. She was holding me. Other women who were not associates of my brothel, ran away or toward my body depending on their nature, but I kept watching as Miomi and Isalia held me in their arms. I saw the entire street, the top of the buildings, the town, clouds, the world and a maze of stars—until I got to a train station. It was there my life changed forever.
And that was the first time I died!

CHAPTER 2

The Box-Exchange Train Station

The Box-Exchange Train Station
Calixta woke up to a bright light; she was lying on a wooden bench. She opened her eyes, and in front of her, high above a set of stairs, there was a sign with royal-blue letters on a white backdrop that read “the Box-Exchange Train Station.” However, this train station was no ordinary train station. The Kingdom of Alhambra did not have anything resembling this place.
Calixta fully woke, and she remembered the gunshot to her chest. She recalled all the blood and her hands and dress covered with mud. She startled herself with her own memory of the look on Todd’s face when he had shot her. Her hand immediately went to her chest. She looked down, expecting a bloodied dress, but what she found was a lovely light-purple tunic that extended all the way down to her knees. Her sleeves reached her elbows, and she was barefoot. Why?
Her annoyance at being dressed as a peasant was short-lived, replaced by her surprise when she noticed her trade-tattoo was gone. Her right arm showed no trace of the prostitute-tattoo she’d been branded with from a tender age. Then she lowered the front of her tunic and looked at her left breast. Her Exotic-tattoo was also gone from her breast.
“I am free!” Calixta’s eyes shone, and her very being was overjoyed with the sensation of freedom. She sang a quiet song. She loved to sing; it was her one pleasure in life. She sang often—usually to bring her sad spirit back from dark places—but here and now she just sang for joy.
When Calixta’s song was done, she sat with a childish grin and new eyes. She looked around and could see the walls were decorated in different shades of white and light-gray. There were accents of yellow and very pale orange as the light coming through the windows shone in from outside. The ceiling was so high and seemed to be made of glass. Calixta could see the sky, with beautiful fluffy clouds. She was in awe of her surroundings.
Calixta sat on the bench she had woken upon for a long hour, trying to understand the place and her circumstances. She wasn’t a religious woman. In fact, she had no religion—no one had ever taught her any tenets. She had lived in slavery, as a prostitute, and it was all she knew. But here she was in this train station full of light. She understood she had died. She had left her body back in Alhambra. She had been shot, and here her chest had no bullet wound and no tattoo of her trade.
Joy, freedom, smiles, and happiness. No binding trade, eyes shining, reality accepted—she was a happy dead person. But now, the next question was: where was this place? The location made a difference only from the perspective of her eternal destination. But this train station was a very peculiar one. What did she have to do? She didn’t know where to go. No one came to her, and there were no train attendants walking about whom she could ask for instructions. There were no signs to tell her what to do.
Calixta stood up from her bench. She looked around and she saw many people all dressed in white, with a few exceptions. Some had red, blue, yellow, and green tunics. She saw Humans, Desert-dwellers, Morai, Elves, and even a group she could not identify. Men, women, and children of different ages walked about with boxes in their hands.
Some people had very large boxes, others had small boxes. Some had boxes full of books, other boxes were full of fruits; others had plates or teacups, but many had boxes which contained broken things, and still, others had rotten fruit with shattered pieces of glass. There were even some whose boxes were empty, but from the empty boxes, sounds came forth, like laughter and music, happy chatters, and the sounds of birds.
She kept looking for banners, advertisements, and stores. But the only thing she found was an enormously long ticket booth, with many, many, windows. There were as many windows as there were countries, cities, and towns in the world. The lines moved quickly, with dozens of lines per city.
However, there were only two train platforms and two destinations. The lines moved very fast. All the people in the lines had their box or boxes in hand.
As a person reached the booth, they would talk, give their box, and get a ticket. Once they had their ticket, they would go through one of the respective revolving doors to a separate platform, to the respective waiting train.
Calixta got a little worried because she had no box, but she was happy to be there. She was free, and maybe they would tell her what to do about her box. She found the section for her kingdom, and then the section for her town with a short enough line. So, she figured she had to join the line. She watched the children with their little boxes full of lovely sounds. Some of the people standing in line ahead of her had boxes full of smells and sounds. It made Calixta think of children playing and summer gatherings by the lake, and she wanted to stand next to them, but she would not cut in line.
It was her turn to step up to the ticket booth. She stepped forward to collect her ticket, and there she found the booth worker. He was a strong-looking man with light-brown hair, cut very short at the back and sides, but with longer bangs in front. A handsome man, but with brown, grumpy eyes and small lips. On his head, he had a funny white-and-blue hat, which made Calixta think of a baby’s bonnet or possibly a sailor’s cap. He looked around but not at her. He focused solely on his book.
And this was where her story got complicated.
ªªª
“Hello, where are the trains going?” asked Calixta of the booth worker.
The booth worker went on looking at his book and writing things in another.
“One goes to a place where all travelers end up as miners, the other train goes to a place with different types of parties. The people are told which party they are going to once they get to the destination. The working train people are told which type of mine they are supposed to work in once they get there, and that will be their destination for eternity. Now, enough with your questions. Tell me your full name, date of birth, place of birth, date of death, place of death, and the best thing you have ever done in your life, and don’t try to lie! Be–c–au–se if you lie, I will know. Once you are done, place your box on the counter. Start talking and make it snappy, my back is hurting!” said the booth worker, looking under his desk for more papers.
“My name is Calixta Harlow Carlyle, I never met my mother, and my father said I was born on the eighteenth of Enuo, 3768. My father told me I was born in the middle of the road between the cities of Harlow and Nhava. I died on Marz twentieth, 3799, in the port city of Talbert. And the best thing I’ve …” Calixta could not finish her sentence.
“Wait, start from the beginning with your name, but this time slowly. I must find your name on the lists! You are here, so your ticket has to be here somewhere,” said the booth worker. The booth worker had a book with dates of birth and the names in alphabetical order. He looked at the line of names, dates of birth, and places of birth. He had a ruler, which he held below each line and covered the names below the one he was reading. He slowly drew the ruler down the page, which helped him see one name at a time. Then he looked at another book with the place Calixta gave as her place of death.
“Your name is not in the book of your place of death either.” He asked her to repeat the date of death and place where she had died, and during her second recitation, the man stopped her again.
In an aggravated tone, he asked, “How did you die?” The booth worker looked for yet another book; he pulled it out from under a pile of books behind him, at which moment his ruler fell under his desk.
“I was shot in the chest,” said Calixta.
“But how did it happen?” asked the booth worker, looking under his desk for his ruler.
“My friend’s husband had a gun and was threatening to kill her. She was pregnant and my only family, I had to help her. I pulled my friend from him and placed her behind me, and he shot me instead,” said Calixta.
“Where is your box? Give me your box,” said the man as he was rising from under his desk.
“I have no box!” said Calixta.
“WHAT? NO BOX!” shouted the worker, banging his head on his desk. He looked at Calixta for the first time. When he took a good look at Calixta and her tunic, his eyes opened wide, and he stood up tall. He was a giant, a ten-foot-tall man stood behind the booth. Calixta refused to be intimidated and simply stood her ground.
“This is not happening. You have a purple tunic. Let me see your arms.”
The booth worker did not have a nice attitude in the way he made his demands. But regardless, Calixta showed him both her arms. Cold sweat dripped down her spine; they were going to arrest her for tampering with her trade-tattoo.
“Move to the side and come with me now. Come! Stop looking around like anyone could give you a box and move … fast. Hurry, I don’t have all day!
“I need a replacement for my booth and an emergency audience with the Twenty. We have one of the Vanquishers from Alhambra,” said the booth worker in a loud voice. He walked along behind the booths of four other workers until he reached a small door. He opened it, and Calixta saw it led between booths to whatever space was behind them. He opened the door to let Calixta into the back rooms.
Calixta had never seen anyone so tall. In utter astonishment, she said, “What did I do wrong? I did not lie. When I arrived here, I had no tattoos or a box. I swear.”
The booth worker grabbed Calixta by her left arm and dragged her through a maze of hallways. Left and right and left again. All the turning made Calixta feel dizzy. Her feet barely touched the ground; she needed to free her arm from the grumpy ten-foot man’s reach. No one manhandled her in such a fashion, not even when paying her large amounts of coin.
When the grumpy man pulled her into a brightly lit room, she had to blink several times. The room held twenty chairs, arranged in a semicircle in front of a table. She was about to let the tall, nasty man know what she thought of him when five men and five women entered the room from a door in the left corner of the brightly lit room. Then ten tall beings resembling bears and walking upright entered from the opposite side of the room. They moved in pairs, each pair with different colored fur, arranging themselves alongside the men and women in front of Calixta.
They must be very ugly because their faces are covered by veils, thought Calixta.
Like the booth worker, they were over ten feet tall, but each of these creatures wore silver-plated armor and carried a sword in their right paw. But unlike bears, these beings had wings. Calixta had had no idea any creature such as these existed.
Two of the ten-footers were blue, another two were red, two more were white, two were yellow, and the last two were green.
Calixta had never seen anything like this before. The men and women were all dressed in white and light-gray pantsuits, but they kept strange company with the giant, veiled beings. This grandeur made Calixta’s hands sweaty. And if this was supposed to be heaven, then these were not angels, because according to what she had heard of angels, they were supposed to be happy and loving beings, always ready to help. This place made no sense to Calixta.
The booth worker standing next to Calixta cleared his throat and gave his salutation. “Hello Wise Ones, thank you for the audience.”
“Hello Orra, what is the emergency? We heard a rumor, but you tell us firsthand,” said one of the red beings in a thunderous voice.
“Number three from Alhambra just arrived. Her name is not on any of the Dark Tunnel Mining books, but it is not in any of the Peace or Joy Palace books either. Her name is not even in the Halls of the Mighty in the Palace of Joy,” said Orra.
“How can that be?” asked the oldest of the men.
“She said she died while saving two lives, a mother and that of her unborn child.”
“But I thought she turned her back on the task,” said the youngest-looking woman.
“There was no information in the books where her name should have been. Her name appears in none of the volumes of the book of life. It’s like she has never lived. She has no trade-tattoo, and she arrived without a box,” finished Orra.
“Huh? Oh! Do you think we are in trouble?” asked one of the men.
“Why? We did nothing. It was her decision not to carry out her task,” said one of the women.
“FATHER will not accept this and—”
“What happened? Why did you turn your back on your task? Why did you not listen to your teacher, your magic master?” asked the old man.
“My magic master? What? You are asking me what happened? I don’t know who you are or what you are talking about. What task?” asked Calixta. She was looking from one to the other. They were making no sense.
“Why did you turn your back on your task? Why did you turn to evil?” asked one of the men.
Calixta had had it with the place. She had no idea where she was; if this was heaven, this was not like the rumors she had heard about it, and if she was in hell, this was a nice type of hell. Plus, she always made a point to know the names of those with whom she talked.
“What task? I told you. I don’t know what you are talking about. I’ve had many teachers in music, singing, dancing, letters. I am not a mage; I’ve had no magic master. But first, who are you? And second, what is this place?” Calixta gave them attitude, ensuring she stood tall and confident, with her hands on her hips.
“She doesn’t know us! What is going on, Orra?” asked one of the women.
“Wise Ones, the books of destinations are blank on the matter. Not even her name appears in those. And in the book of life, only her name appears, there is nothing else. She has a clean slate. I know as much as you, Wise One,” said Orra.
“Wait!” said one of the white creatures. Stepping aside, he walked to where Calixta was standing and looked down at her. Calixta was happy she could not see his face. But she would not let the being intimidate her. He had a crown of white baby’s breath flowers visible over the veil on his head, but the being exuded an aura of authority which completely overwhelmed her.
“Hold my hand,” said the being in a loving voice.
Calixta obeyed, more out of reverential fear than obedience. She soon calmed, as from his chest, a projection of Calixta’s life appeared on one of the walls of the room. And Calixta saw herself die again. They all watched, from the moment she was conceived to the moment she died. They saw every moment in rapid progression—all the little moments of happiness, every hurt, every tear, all her evils, and all her moments of weakness. They saw everything, every time she slept with men and women and when she had helped others integrate into her lifestyle. Calixta became embarrassed and angry.
When the story of her life was over, all twenty turned and looked at Calixta. It was an unexpected feeling. Their eyes were on her, and their gazes were like rays of heat that penetrated the depths of her chest, through to her inner being. She could not understand how she could be chastised without words and loved without a touch, nor how these two things could be done at the same time.
“Now we know what happened to you. You saved two lives before you died, but you also saved many lives throughout your life by feeding and helping those in need. You have had many instances of selfless actions. But above all else, it was the way in which you died at the end that redeemed you. You had a destiny and a task. But your instructor for the path of the Vanquisher, the master weaver of magic, died before you were born, and instead you were lost to darkness when you were a child,” said one of the red veiled giants.
“Yes, well, that does not tell me who you are and where I am.” Calixta was more respectful in her tone but she was still angry.
“We are the virtues. I’m Lady Wisdom,” said one of the women, looking at her with a frown.
“Wait a minute. What do you mean you are the virtues? I know I am dead, but this is bound to give me a headache. Explain, please. I have never heard of you. I am not religious. I don’t believe in any god. And I am not doing anything for free. There is nothing free in Alhambra,” said Calixta. Anger was still holding her resolve, and her lack of belief in what she was witnessing.
“I’m Lady Justice. You were not supposed to have the life you lived. You were never supposed to be a slave. You were supposed to have had a master, a teacher, to guide you in how to fight and vanquish all which isn’t holy. But instead, you were sold into slavery, given to darkness, and then you lived a debauched life as an adult. But in the end, you died saving the life of another and a child. Your last act, and your acts of mercy and your selfless ways toward others, have redeemed you and given your task back to you. Your task is unchanging, and you have a mission,” said another woman.
“No one can take your destiny from you and you cannot pass it to anyone else. In this, you have no choice. You have the magic and the power. So, you must use it to complete your mission. You must return to Alhambra,” said Lady Wisdom.
“We must show her,” said the oldest man, and he left his chair and approached her. He then touched Calixta’s arm. Calixta wasn’t expecting what transpired. She was used to men touching her, although the old man looked innocuous. But when he touched her, she felt love—pure and unadulterated love. It was as if she were being bathed from the top of her head down to her toes with a warm soft sensation of calm and an embrace of acceptance. Love for her as she was, with all her faults and all her filth and all her actions, both willing and imposed.
Calixta fell to her hands and knees. She could no longer stand. All her energy had abandoned her. She knelt, head down, ears focused on soft music emanating from the walls; she wanted to sing. She wanted to do what her heart rejoiced in doing; she sang.
All the beings stood up from their chairs and a splendid show of lights came from them as Calixta sang her song. Nothing so beautiful had sounded in the hall. She finished her song and she looked to her right. There, a woman knelt next to her and lightly touched her arm.
Calixta raised her head and she saw a young man kneeling near her to her left, who also touched her, and between the two of them, it was as if they showered her with rose petals. She was bathed in peace, which made her want to sing another song. The music coming through the walls changed the tune, and she continued, singing a new song with her voice as clear as a child’s and with tears of joy. She was full of an expectation for more, for better, for something other. From the floor, sitting, hands on her chest, Calixta looked at the woman kneeling with her, and she was the most beautiful being she had ever seen, alive or dead, in this place or on all Alhambra. Calixta finished her song and the shining of all those present subsided.
“What just happened?” Calixta’s limbs were mush.
The woman helped Calixta stand up, and she smiled. “This is who we are. We share that of what we embody. I’m Lady Hope, and this handsome old man here is Sir Love, and the young man standing next to him, with the big smile, is Peace.”
Calixta smiled and she looked at all three of them. Her anger was gone, but more questions came to her. “Why did you never come to me before?”
“We have sent ourselves to you many times when you have asked. But only when you have asked. We can’t enter where we are not invited.”
“We can’t enter where darkness resides unless our entrance is fought for when we are called and invited.”
“I don’t understand,” said Calixta.
“If a place is owned by evil, we can’t enter unless someone with a soul fights evil and opens a door, a window, or even a little crack, for us to enter,” said Lady Wisdom.
“That is why FATHER sends people like you. So, you can fight darkness, so you can open a window for his emissaries to enter the Kingdom of Alhambra. You must protect the weak and lead when there is no leader; that is your task,” said Lady Justice.
“Some of us have been around you, especially when you sing,” said Peace. As he moved his fingers, she heard her voice as a child rise up, singing around them, and his voice giving her the harmony. “I have sent you peace when you sing. Haven’t you been feeling it?”
Calixta broke into a huge smile.
“We send what we are when we are called upon, but if there is too much darkness, it is difficult for us to enter,” said the old man, Love.
“But now I am dead, it is too late.”
“No, it’s not,” said another man.
“Patience, are you sure we are making the right choice?” asked one of the green creatures.
“Yes, it is the only way. She has a clean slate and no blemish on her record. She will be hard to find,” said Lord Patience, rubbing his red beard.
“So, what do you want me to do? You want me to return to Alhambra? But I am dead.”
“Yes, you must return, and let us deal with the problem of your death,” said the old man, Love, with a little, wicked smile.
“But I don’t want to return. I want to stay here. I am free here.” Calixta could not believe what they wanted her to do.
“Wait, she can’t go back the way she is now. She will never be successful. It will be impossible for her to carry out her task. Every demon, imp, devil, orc, or others will be looking for her to cast her down and kill her,” said Lady Justice, the shortest of the women.
“What do you propose?” asked Lord Patience.
“She needs a gift from one of us. Look at what she’s been dealt in life. She has lived surrounded by depravity; the Evil One hasn’t found her because her light was covered by filth. She was hiding in his own den. Her gift has been dormant all her life. But when she returns, she will be a beacon of elegant grace and radiance. Look at her, we have made her brighter than a diamond glinting during the midday sun,” said Lady Hope, the most beautiful woman of all the virtue females.
“Yes, I know she needs help. But, like all before her, she needs to earn the extra gifts,” said Lord Faith.
“She will be back here in a few days if we don’t give her a weapon. Her master died; she has no weapon,” said Lady Justice.
“Agreed, we must give her a gift from one of the virtues and a weapon from one of the master warriors, but we must send her back now,” said Sir Love.
“Master Warriors, please, one of you must give her a weapon,” said Faith.
“We are not supposed to do this, and you know it,” said one of the green warriors. This one had a feminine-sounding voice, which made Calixta start to think the colored pairs were male and female.
“She needs a weapon and the one that was supposed to be hers was lost. So, one of you must give her a weapon, please.”
“Fine, I’ll give her my blessing. If you recall her life, her mother received all our blessings,” said a red warrior.
This red warrior, who had just spoken, had a deeper voice, confirming Calixta’s earlier suspicions: they were male and female. The male red warrior approached Calixta. She closed her eyes as the creature kissed the top of her head, held her hands, and gave her a hug. Heat burned through her entire body.
“Thank you, Red Master Warrior. Orra, bring Maxima,” said Lord Faith. So, Orra left and returned a few moments later with a yellow-and-green starfish, and gave it to Lord Faith and Lady Hope.
“I’ll bestow our gift on Calixta,” said a quiet man who had been standing in a corner.
“Thank you, Temperance,” said Hope, as she moved aside to let Temperance get near Calixta.
“From now on, you will have the eyes to see the truth. This is my gift to you. Make sure you send us the evil ones. You must find the other three if you are to be successful,” said Sir Temperance, touching Calixta’s eyelids.
“But, I am not free in Alhambra.” Calixta’s innermost being shrunk, her face pleading to stay.
“You are the third Vanquisher and Restorer. From now on, I’ll be watching over you.” Temperance traced Calixta’s face with one of his fingers. Then Lord Faith walked over to where Calixta was standing.
“We will give you something that will help. You must trust me. I will not lie to you—this will hurt when it first attaches to you. But you will need it. It will help you, help us.” Lord Faith looked at Calixta and waited for her response.
“I don’t know what it is I must do, but I am willing to try. I now have hope that maybe my life will be better.”
Lord Faith took Calixta’s right arm, and she felt as if a cool blanket covered her, which then became warm and inviting, bringing with it new expectations and the reassurance of victory. Faith turned her around. Then Lady Hope touched Calixta, and Calixta remembered the happiest moment of her life—the moment when she saw her arm without the bondage of any trade-tattoo—and calmness came to her. Calixta smiled and said nothing.
All she could do was watch and marvel at what was happening around her. The warriors’ show of light of different colors massaged Calixta’s skin; the ten creatures were shimmering in the background. It was all amazing until the moment when the starfish was attached to her neck.
Calixta, turning her back to Lord Faith as he rotated her, was all pliable and relaxed until Lady Wisdom came to stand at her left side and held her arm. Lady Hope opened Calixta’s tunic at the back, exposing Calixta’s neck and back, down to her waist. And Faith placed the yellow starfish on the back of Calixta’s neck, where it settled down her spine. The starfish attached to Calixta like a second skin.
The intense suction the starfish applied to her skin caused an inordinate pain as though she had been struck by lightning, making her shudder so hard that her entire body convulsed. Then all her muscles contracted simultaneously, rendering her motionless. Her entire body became paralyzed as each of the opposing muscles in her body felt a charley horse from hell. Fingers, hot as the embers from a kitchen hearth, grabbed her neck, and she thought they would never let go. Calixta fell to the ground, her muscles spasming in pain, tears rolling down the side of her face and entering her ears, jaws clenched, on and on, until finally, her body began to relax. The effect lasted an eternity or a few seconds. After the effect of the starfish connecting with her was over, Calixta looked up at Lady Hope.
“You bitch, you made me all happy and calm and then hit me with this much pain?” And Calixta rested her head back on the floor, her body still shuddering with lesser spasms.
The starfish then made her feel hot and cold, and she became listless. Her neck burned and the sensation of millions of fingertips touching her skin took over her face and her head—more spasms.
“I’m sorry, my dear one. It will only take a little longer for the pain to go away. I promise,” said Lady Hope, with sad eyes.
Seeing stars, lights shining, and smelling aromas she had never smelled before, Calixta nodded at Hope’s words. But slowly, she regained her senses and asked, “What did you do to me? What is this thing doing? What is that smell?”
A few minutes later, Calixta sat up, still on the floor. Lady Hope, Lord Faith, and Sir Love helped her stand on shaking knees.
“Maxima will help you see and understand. When you return, you must find the others. They will help you,” said Lady Hope.
“Wait, who is going to help me see? And who do you want me to find?” asked Calixta, who now had the clear task to vanquish and restore set in her sights.
“From now, you will have the strength to fight three men at the same time. Calixta, you will be mighty.” Love hugged Calixta and gave her a kiss on her forehead.
Calixta looked up at all the other virtues around her.
“Stay true, watch for lies, and keep away from evil. Remember my gift and use it,” said Temperance, with a smile.
Faith was standing next to Calixta. He touched Calixta’s face softly and he, too, kissed her forehead.
“We must hurry, she must return now,” said Lady Wisdom.
“Listen to me. Have faith in your friends, in providence, in God, and in yourself. I have given you an extra measure of faith. Use it.” And the old man, Faith, stood back.
A woman who had kept apart and had only watched all that had happened stepped forward and hugged her. “I’m Mercy. You have had me in abundance in your heart from the moment you were born. You are mine, and I’m yours. I’m so proud of you, but now Temperance has you also. Remember us.” Mercy touched Calixta’s face and she stepped aside.
“Orra, take her back,” said Lady Wisdom.
Then Orra took Calixta by her left arm and pulled her out of the room like she was a rag doll. This time the man turned into a twenty-foot giant with wings. His hat disappeared, and his short haircut transformed into long, light-brown hair. His eyes were so bright Calixta could not see the color. He wore a long robe with white pants and gold boots, and a beautiful apron-like vestment adorned with jewels of all kinds on his chest. His wings were made of white feathers, with golden ones at the tips of his wings.
He grabbed Calixta by her arm and the ceiling disappeared. They were going up and up into the air. Calixta could see no buildings, no clouds, nothing but stars. She then looked down, and she could see they were flying so high, she could even see the entire roundness of the planet. The booth worker—now angel—started flying lower and lower until they were flying down through the clouds, and when Calixta could see the town of Talbert, the angel let her go, and she fell … fast!
Maybe this time, I am going to die for real. Falling and falling, the rush of air on her face and hair. But then she was thrown into her body with force and the feeling of when you jump awake in bed after a bad nightmare.

CHAPTER 3

I Am Back!

Calixta startled awake with a pain in her chest that made her want to scream, but she refused to make a sound. She let tears loose and gasped for air. She counted to ten and breathed slowly, opening her eyes just a little. One, two, three, and the shimmering little stars floating in front of her eyes slowly disappeared. She tried to open her eyes as wide as they would go, to look deeper into her room. The room was lit by a lantern on the night table near the entry door at the side of her room, and by many other candles throughout. There was a dying fire in the fireplace and the smell of roses made the room feel relaxing. She looked around when her eyes adjusted to the lights. The fog of waking from a bad dream kept her heart racing. As she calmed, she saw a slim woman sleeping in a rocking chair next to her bed. It was Isalia, and Calixta could see the telltale roundness of her pregnancy.

Calixta made a soft humming sound as she tried to sit up by the head of her bed. At the pained sounds escaping her lips, her friend Isalia woke and became alert.

“Isalia,” was all Calixta could say. Her chest hurt so much, and her lungs could barely hold air.

“You’re awake.” Isalia left the room in a hurry. Calixta looked around the partly lit room and fell asleep again.

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The next morning Calixta woke again to find Isalia sitting on the rocking chair, knitting. Calixta did not move or try to take any deep breaths. Her chest hurt and her arms felt like they weighed a ton. Her ears were ringing, and someone was pricking her hands with many needles. Her feet were cold, and her eyelids felt so heavy, but the light coming in from the windows let her know it was morning and time to wake.

“I am thirsty,” Calixta said in a whisper, hoping Isalia could hear her. 

Isalia did hear her. “Sissy! Water? Yes, I’ll get it.” Isalia had jumped when she noticed that Calixta was awake. She hurried to get a glass of water, looking back to make sure Calixta was still awake. She hurried back and helped Calixta drink her water. It hurt Calixta enormously to sit up enough to drink the water, but her mouth was dry. Having drunk enough, she closed her eyes and fell asleep again. 

Four hours later, Calixta woke again, but in a little less pain. The light of day was less bright; someone had closed the curtains of her room.

“Isalia?” said Calixta, trying to sit a little. The pillows were uncomfortable. Isalia was again sitting next to her.

“No, Sissy, please, lie back. You will open your wound. Miomi worked hard closing your injury. She will be upset with me if she sees you have pulled your stiches.” The shorter and much-battered Isalia helped to rearrange Calixta’s pillow. Calixta relaxed back on her bed, trying to focus on her friend’s face.

“Thank you, Isalia,” said Calixta in a whisper. She was able to open her eyes and focus on Isalia.

“Sissy, you’ve been unconscious for two weeks,” said Isalia.

“I am thirsty.” Calixta’s mouth felt full of cotton.

Isalia got up and went to the table to get her a glass of water. Isalia hurried back and gave the water to Calixta, who then rested her head back on her pillow. Calixta’s ears hurt. Isalia’s voice came as if she were talking from inside a tunnel—Calixta’s head was dizzy, her hands cold, and she had a desire to retch.

“Did you call Mrs. Ferton?” asked Calixta, as her world turned.

“She was not in town, and none of the other healers would come to help you. So, Miomi cleaned your wounds and she took the bullet out.” 

Calixta took a deep breath, and it hurt just as bad as the first time when she had woken. 

“We have been taking turns taking care of you for a week and we’ve all been praying.”

“I can’t cope with the pain for much longer!” Calixta’s pain came in waves like a child on a swing. She could barely see Isalia sitting next to her. 

“Do you want more water?” 

Calixta nodded. The water was making her dizziness and prickly hands go away.

“I’ll call Miomi. She will be here in a few minutes.” Isalia left her side and Calixta closed her eyes and fell asleep again.

But she woke when Isalia re-entered the room and let the light of the hall shine into her bedroom.

“Calixta, how are you feeling?” asked Isalia from the door.

“My entire body hurts. It hurts when I breathe.” Calixta slowly moved her arms from her waist to her chest.

“I can only imagine, Sissy, but stop moving. Listen to me, now just listen. We kept your room cool just the way you like it. The fire is just lit enough to cut the chill down. So, stop moving.” 

Calixta lowered her hands back to her waist and stopped moving. “Isalia, what happened? I can’t remember how I got to my room. I remember being shot— Isalia, I hurt so much, so bad.” Calixta also remembered a weird dream of a train station and some creatures. It could not be real. It had to be a dream.

“I went to get Miomi. She’ll be here in a few minutes. She is getting her medicine bag.” 

Calixta tried to rearrange her body on her bed again.

“Relax, please don’t try to sit. I can tell you are in pain. Miomi will be here in a few minutes and she will not be happy if she finds out you woke only to reinjure yourself.” Her friend Isalia looked like a child who had received her favorite toy. “I’m very happy you are awake. I know you said you hurt but how does your chest feel?” asked Isalia.

“I feel like I was kicked by a mule,” said Calixta, with a smile.

Isalia smiled at her best friend’s answer. But her happy smile was soon overshadowed by a worried look in her droopy eyes.

Calixta felt sorry for her friend. Isalia had a scar on her face, compliments of her husband’s abuse. Her husband had tried to slice her face open in one of his drunken rages. She was a sad woman. Even her arms looked stick-like, but her hair was a beautiful shade of deep red.

“Would you like some water or some broth? You’ve been asleep for some time. You must be hungry,” said Isalia, going to the night stand near the window.

“Yes, water please. But I see it is night. It is time to open the hall. Isalia, are you alright? Did that diablo monster husband of yours hurt you?”

“Nothing he hasn’t done before. And after he shot you, he ran. Calixta, you took a bullet for us. You died. I can’t …” Isalia came back to Calixta’s bedside and sat back down on the rocking chair, one hand on her swollen belly, and she cried. Her hands then covered her face; she did not want her tears to show.

“Isalia, stop crying. You are one of my best friends. You and Miomi are my only family. Now where is my water?”

And Isalia helped Calixta drink her water. And she fell asleep again.

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Calixta woke up the next day. This time her head felt a little better and she could even remember the conversation she had had with Isalia.

She looked sideways at the rocking chair, but this time the chair was empty. And then she remembered Isalia saying she had been unconscious for a week.

Oh no, if I’ve been unconscious for two weeks, I’ll have a week’s worth of paperwork to deal with. And I don’t want to deal with cook, or the women. They must be worried, but I just want quiet. Calixta’s mind rushed with thoughts of responsibilities and work.

And Todd? Has he returned to try and take Isalia, or will he still come back? What am I going to do about securing the back of the house? No, Calixta, stop! Think through problems later. The dream of heaven was weird; or maybe it was hell? Maybe it was a nightmare?

And then her memories went back to the priest and collecting her coin. She saw in her mind’s eye when she was shot, the crazy Box-Exchange Train Station, and again the images of her life. She needed to forget the multi-colored creatures and the virtues. She was an Exotic prostitute; that was the reality of her life. All that about a gift and the virtues was a dream. Here and now, she was in her own bed, in her own brothel, and she was very much alive.

She had a home of her own. Her friends and family were, Miomi, Isalia, and the women in her brothel. She was fine and not dead. Calixta was getting agitated, so she tried to sit up in bed. She needed to feel in control of her life; she wanted to see her wound. The wound in her chest was going to be a problem for her status as an Exotic.

In pain, but with a stubborn resolve to see the thing that would ruin the perfection of her Exotic body, Calixta was almost completely out of bed when Isalia entered the room with a bowl of broth.

“What are you doing? You have a chest wound, or have you forgotten you were dead not too long ago?” said Isalia in a very disapproving way.

“Fine, I’ll get back in bed. I am dizzy anyway.”

Isalia put the tray down. She helped Calixta feed herself, and for the rest of the day Calixta drifted in and out of sleep until Miomi came to see her that night.

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Later, Miomi, the brothel’s top prostitute below Calixta, and Calixta’s closest friend and only family beside Isalia, came to see her. Miomi walked in with her bag of medical supplies to find Calixta awake and cleaning her hands with a wet cloth.

“Oh, mi querida, Sissy, I am so happy to see you awake. Isalia was so excited yesterday when she told me you had awoken, I thought she was going into labor. However, today she told me she found you sitting on your bed. Are you loquita? And my next question is how are you feeling?” said Miomi, spilling out all her thoughts in a rush.

“Yes, you know I am a little insane after living with all of you for all these years,” said Calixta, with a smile for her friend. “On the other hand, I am so tired and hurt. This is all like a dream. Miomi, I am assuming you have been taking care of the business? We need to hire another bouncer and buy better locks for the back doors.”

“Carriño, you were dead one week ago with a bullet wedged in your chest. You just woke and your first question is about the business? Woman, you need to sort out your priorities. I’ve been taking care of the business, but we will talk about that later. First, I want to know: how are you— How are you feeling? And I mean your chest, your wound, your physical body.” Miomi started to organize the supplies from her bag.

“I am very grateful for the business. About my chest, it hurts badly. It hurts when I breathe, but not as bad as yesterday. Do you think this will leave a nasty mark? If my body is not perfect, it will damage my standing as an Exotic,” said Calixta, as she was trying to recline on her bed.

“Sissy, lie back and stop moving. Please, try to relax. I did all I could do to make the stitches as small as possible. I am sorry to tell you, but stitches always leave a mark. You will have to wait and see what your body will look like once you are completely healed.” Miomi pushed Calixta back on her pillows.

“Miomi, you must do all you can to ensure I don’t end up with a nasty scar. My body must be perfect, or as near perfect as I can maintain it. Do you hear me? I can’t have any blemishes.” Calixta wasn’t smiling or joking, she was looking at Miomi with a serious face.

Calixta tried to relax and Miomi proceeded to remove her camisole and then take the bandages off to check on the wound. Calixta had her eyes closed, afraid to see the wound.

“This is not possible. I’ve never seen this,” said Miomi, wide-eyed.

“What do you mean? Miomi, is it that bad? Is the wound infected?” asked Calixta, still not wanting to see.

“Querida, this is not normal. You must see this. There is almost no sign of trauma on your chest. The bullet wound is healing too fast. The scar is red and a bit swollen, and there are a few other scabs all around where the bullet had been, but I can barely see them. Are your breasts hurting?” asked Miomi.

“Yes, they both hurt, but what do you mean this wound is not normal?” asked Calixta, finally looking down.

“It doesn’t look like a bullet wound that happened two weeks ago,” said Miomi.

“Did you take out the bullet right away?” Calixta was getting concerned.

“You died in my arms and we brought you into the house, but then you came back from the dead. I took your bullet out when I realized you were still alive and stitched you myself, but I can’t understand what is happening. We were expecting you would not make it through the night, let alone two weeks. Now here you are alive and almost completely healed. Look at your wound!” said Miomi, brushing aside some of Calixta’s hair from her face.

Calixta was surprised when she saw her wound. The bullet had hit her squarely between her breasts. And as Miomi said, the wound was almost completely healed. Miomi cleaned the area and bandaged it with clean linen.

“Calixta, you need rest. Please drink this; it will help with your dizzy head. Isalia said you were not well. Que duermas con los Angelitos, my dear friend,” said Miomi.

Calixta drank the bitter water and a few minutes later, as she was getting cozy, she felt tired and went back to sleep until the next morning.

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Calixta woke slowly. Torrential rain was falling and there was a haze entering through the window near her bed. She needed to stand and use the commode, but she was in pain and had the worst headache. Her traitorous friend, Miomi, in the guise of being a healer, had given her something the night before which made her sleep and gave her the most horrendous dreams, better-called nightmares. In one dream, she was walking in a train station with never-ending lines and met people who gave her a message, and a winged-thing grabbed her arm and lifted her into the air, then dropped her onto her bed. It must have all been a dream. It had to be a dream.

She wanted to get up and look out the window. She needed to get a bath. If she’d been out for two weeks, then she had not bathed in an entire week. Yuck!

“My head! What in Sam’s world did crazy Miomi give me last night?” said Calixta. She tried to sit up against her pillows.

“Oh, good morning. You woke so early, but awake is good. Sissy, what are you doing sitting? And how do you feel?” said Miomi. The rocking chair was gone and in its place was a large sofa. Apparently, Miomi had slept the entire night next to Calixta’s bed. Even in the morning, Miomi looked stunning with her black hair and amber eyes.

“Good morning. You said …” Calixta tried to sit again, but her head spun. “How do I feel? Miomi, I have the worst headache I have ever had. I feel hungover like I drank all the liquor in the house. I am dizzy, nauseous, but other than that, I feel peachy. What the hell did you give me? I know it wasn’t tea!” said Calixta, already suspecting her friend had drugged her, but she was hoping she was mistaken.

“A sedative made of special leaves from my land. They grow wild, but don’t worry, they are great at helping you relax. You must have something to eat and drink soon or your stomach will be hurting later. Let me call for breakfast and we can talk while we eat. I’ll send Isalia to help you. I will be back in an hour. I need to change out of this frock. And yes, corazón, I am sorry about the side effect of the sedative, but you needed to rest,” said Miomi, in her soft sultry accent, and she left the room. 

Rest? Her ass! Calixta needed to use the commode and she wanted to see her wound in the mirror—the way someone else would see it. So, after Miomi left her room, she moved slowly and got out of bed one limb at a time. To her surprise, her chest hurt, but not as much as the night before. As she straightened, her head spun. Her headache made moving a bad idea, but she slowly got to her feet and, holding onto anything that was in her path, she shuffled over to a chair in front of the window near her vanity. She would see the wound while she waited for Isalia. But then her door opened.

“What are you doing moving over to that chair by yourself?” Isalia entered her room as Calixta stood by her dresser, almost reaching her mirror. Her friend ran to Calixta’s side.

“I am fine, thank you. Isalia. Be a dear and get me a cigarette, please, and I need to use the commode. Help me to my bathroom,” said Calixta, looking at her friend. Isalia was so small, even with her pregnant body. It was striking; they were the same age and yet Isalia looked younger than Calixta. But Isalia wasn’t an Exotic and did not have a pain threshold as Calixta had.

“Did any of the other girls get hurt? I am not sure if you told me last night, I can’t remember.” Calixta’s head was throbbing and she wanted to just take her head off her body and shake the pain away. Isalia gave Calixta her cigarettes and helped her get to her bathroom.

“No, all the girls are fine. You were the only one who got hurt.” Isalia then helped Calixta take a sponge bath and to not get her bandage wet.

“Isalia, do you remember your dreams?” Calixta was smoking her cigarette as Isalia was helping her bathe.

“I rarely dream, but when I do, I only remember very little details, or I have nightmares. And I want to forget those,” said Isalia, as she helped Calixta cleanse her arms. “Why are you asking about dreams?”

“I had the strangest dream. I went to heaven and I met these angels, and one was very ornery. Hah, can you believe it? Madame Calixta Carlyle, an Exotic prostitute, in heaven. How would I end up in what looked like the antechamber of heaven? It was a dream. It had to be a dream. When we are done, could you please get me a mirror? I want to see the wound on my chest.” Calixta was getting tired, so Isalia helped her back to her room and agreed to fetch her mirror.

CHAPTER 4

It Wasn’t a Dream

After Calixta’s bath, Isalia passed her a hand mirror so she could see her own wound as if from another person’s perspective.

“Oh no! My breasts … my chest, it is horrible,” said Calixta when she saw the bullet wound and the stitches.

“I’m sorry, Sissy. It’s all my fault,” said Isalia, with tears in her eyes.

“Love, this is not your fault. Todd did this, not you.”

“But if I hadn’t been here—” Isalia rubbed her growing belly and she closed her eyes.

“Stop! Where would you have gone, if not with your sisters and family?” Calixta tossed the mirror aside, and Isalia gave her friend a hug. Then they walked over to Calixta’s vanity to brush Calixta’s hair. Calixta took the mirror and hid it.

“What will you do, now that your body isn’t perfect?” asked Isalia.

“I’ll manage somehow. I’ll increase my Exotic pain threshold and have a tattoo drawn over the top of the scar. For now, I have other attributes. Do not worry, you know better than anyone we Exotics are masters of many arts, not only sexual pleasures, and some clients don’t even care for perfect bodies.” Calixta was too tired to think through the real consequences.

“I almost forgot. Some of the girls want to see you,” said Isalia, still in a sad voice as she helped Calixta into a clean nightdress.

“Let them visit. I can see them. I have energy,” said Calixta.

Isalia left Calixta sitting in front of her vanity near the window and left the room with hurried steps.

Calixta stared out of the window as she waited for the others to arrive. It had stopped raining. But then it rained again, but this time with thunder and lightning. She found the sound of rain relaxing, so with great care, she stood up and moved over to lean on the windowsill to watch the rain fall.

Calixta’s chest still hurt and dizziness was making her nauseous, but she resolved that no bullet would keep her down. She pushed herself away from her window, moving slowly, and returned to her vanity. As she walked her head spun and every step hurt. Pain was good. It reminded her she was alive, and she was used to some level of pain.

Calixta wondered how she had recovered so fast from a bullet wound to the chest. It must have hit the side of her chest and not hurt anything vital.

Isalia must calm down. I am feeling better. I am even getting hungry. Miomi and Isalia should let all the staff know I am not at death’s door. She wanted to get up and find Miomi. It was time to resume her job as the Madame of her brothel.

She looked at herself in the mirror and tried to tie her hair back, but she could not lift her arms.

Maybe I need a little more rest.

Then the sound of a stampede of barefoot women sounded from the hallway. Loud voices and cheers came from the other end of the corridor. Five young women, in different stages of undress, entered Calixta’s room in a frenzy of youthful exuberance. Miomi, the sexiest-dressed woman of the bunch, walked in after them.

Calixta had trained Miomi well. Miomi was a beautiful-looking woman. She had almond-shaped eyes and pale-peach skin. Her black hair was very straight, and she had very soft hands. All the other women were making a fuss over their Madame and they were all in shock she was out of bed.

“What are you doing out of your bed?” one asked.

“You are alive!” said another.

“We missed you so much; we love you Madame Calixta,” they all said.

“We thought you weren’t going to make it. How are you feeling?” asked the oldest of the girls.

“Lady Calixta, we thought you were dead,” said another.

“Wow, is that what happens when you get shot?” a young little red-headed girl said, wide-eyed and with much naivete.

“Hello, my darlings. Yes, yes, I feel better. I love you all as well. You all know me. All I need is a bath, a cigarette, a glass of wine, and lots of oils to hide this horrid, bad mood. I thank you all for being such good girls and listening to Miomi,” said Calixta, with all the swagger she could muster at the moment.

Everyone in the room was both happy and perplexed. She was up and looking at herself in her mirror, yet she had just woken up after having been at death’s door.

“All of you, Madame Calixta needs rest. You’ve seen her. She is better. She loves you all. So now, all of you go rest. We are closed tonight,” said Miomi to the women.

“What? Why we are closed?” asked Calixta, in surprise. They never closed.

“I’ll be back to tell you all about it. First, I must make sure these five go and rest. It is too early in the morning for all these shenanigans,” said Miomi.

They left, saying bye to Calixta and blowing kisses to their Madame. Miomi followed them, closing the door behind her as she left the room.

ªªª

An hour later, Miomi returned to Calixta’s room. She was dressed in a beautiful white blouse and a long black skirt. Her hair was up, and she had it pinned back in a bun, but it did not matter what the woman did—she could be dressed in a sackcloth and dirt and she would still be beautiful.

“Hello again. Well, let me see your wound,” said Miomi.

Calixta sat on her bed and Miomi opened Calixta’s gown and exposed the wound. There was a large bruise, but the bullet hole was healing rapidly and the scars from the stitches looked red but on the mend.

“I can’t believe how fast this wound is healing.” Miomi was almost speechless.

“I am just lucky to have a great healer.” Calixta lay on her bed, resting her head on her pillow.

“You look well enough to have some breakfast or something other than broth. Yes?” asked Miomi, with a grin and a twinkle in her eyes.

“Yes, I am hungry.” Calixta thought it was good to see her friend looking happy. Miomi smiled, stood up, and helped Calixta dress. She then went over to the door of Calixta’s room and opened it wide.

“What is for breakfast?” Calixta had not lied about her hunger. Her stomach was feeling better and she was feeling hunger pains.

“Pio, you can come in now, amorsito,” said Miomi.

A young man with a metal leg walked in, carrying a large tray of food. His metal leg helped him walk and move around without the use of a crutch. The leg had flexible joints and he could move easily. It had cost a large bag of coin, but Calixta had not cared. The young man left the food on the table and looked up at Calixta.

“Madame Calixta, you are alive! I’m so happy to see you walking. Do you need anything? Will you need any sweets, cigarettes, your favorite drinks? You tell me and I’ll get it for you,” said Pio, looking at Calixta. The young man had eyes only for his mistress.

“Thank you, Pio. No, I don’t need anything else. I see you are doing much better,” said Calixta.

“Yes, my lady, I’m like a pig in mud. My new leg works great. Thank you again for getting it for me, my lady.”

“You are welcome, love. Go now and finish your chores. You know Master Smith is training you this afternoon,” said Calixta.

Pio came around the table and gave her a big hug, and Calixta returned the hug and gave him a kiss.

“Yes, my lady.” And Pio smiled at Calixta and Miomi as he left the room, walking with his head and chest high.

“I love that boy,” said Calixta.

“And he adores you. Let us eat, you must be famished. I know I am hungry,” said Miomi.

“I want to know now, why we are closed tonight?” asked Calixta.

“The Sheshlia priests are questioning our hygiene standards,” said Miomi.

“Are you kidding? We are the best of the best.” Calixta almost let her anger show.

“The health officers are looking over our potions; they need to talk to our regular healer, Mrs. Ferton, and they will be talking to the women this afternoon. The Trade Office closed us for a day, but they will adjust your taxes for the missed day of income. Mrs. Ferton is out of town for another few days, but we will be open tomorrow.” Miomi drank her tea and ate some of her meal.

“This is all we need,” said Calixta.

“This is the work of that pig, the high priest. I hate that man,” said Miomi.

“We will not do any business with them again. Let them use Kadryl’s brothel and see how they like them.” Calixta played with her fingers—they felt strangely warm that morning.

Both women drank their morning tea and ate some of the food, but Miomi could not contain her questions any longer.

“Sissy, please tell me what happened? You were dead—I felt you die in my arms,” said Miomi.

“Why do you want to know? I don’t— I must thank you for all you have done for me, I have …” Calixta did not want to talk about what had happened to her, but Miomi insisted.

“No, stop! Please, tell me, I need to know what happened,” said Miomi.

Calixta cleaned her mouth with her napkin and sat back, thinking. “I know what you know. Todd shot me,” said Calixta.

“What do you remember?” Calixta wanted to know what Miomi remembered.

“The morning you were shot, Isalia’s husband came and tried to take her from us, against her will. But you came and pushed Todd away from Isalia and he used his weapon on you. El cretino, Todd, and his friends left when they saw they had hurt you and there were many people who witnessed his actions. A few Sheshlia women saw the entire thing but they did nothing, and they refused to help you or let anyone help you. Sissy, you died in my arms, there in front of the house. We took you in and called the constable. We placed you on a table in the parlor, but after some time you shouted and we noticed you were still breathing, so I started working on your wound. I took the bullet out from your chest. We took you to your room. Isalia and I tended you and Pio stayed to be your watcher. Afterwards, you just slept until you woke up several days ago,” said Miomi.

“I don’t know what to say. You took a bullet out of my chest. I must thank you, my friend,” said Calixta.

“Sissy, I don’t know what to tell you. In all my years as a healer, I have never seen anyone come back from the dead. And here you are looking like you just had a cold, not a bullet to your chest. I have never seen anyone heal this fast. I’ve been a healer since I was ten and this is the first time I’ve seen a person come back from the dead into a healed body,” said Miomi, folding her napkin.

Calixta looked at Miomi with questioning eyes. “Let’s change the subject. I don’t want to talk about this anymore. Now tell me, how is our newest girl? Is Alesha adjusting?” asked Calixta.

Miomi looked at Calixta and took a deep breath before continuing to talk. Clearly Calixta was done with the subject. “She still can’t believe she is one of us. Her Sheshlia upbringing is clashing with the reality of her parents having cast her out. Poor girl, her bastardo of a half-brother rapes her, and the family blames her!” said Miomi.

“Call her in, I will talk to her. Let’s do this now. She needs to start working soon.” Calixta had already attached the girl to her heart, but she needed to come to terms with her new reality.

“Are you sure? You should be resting. You just woke up from weeks of being unconscious. I still cannot believe you appeared to be dead a few days ago.”

“Yes, yes, send her up. It will only take fifteen or twenty minutes to talk to her. I’ll be fine.” Calixta felt sorry for the girl.

“I’ll send her right up.”

Miomi left, and after around ten minutes the young woman arrived, knocked on the door, and entered. 

“Hello, Madame Calixta. I can’t believe you are awake and sitting up after receiving a bullet to the chest!” said Alesha.

“None of us can believe it, including me. Come, sit. I would like to get to know you better.” Calixta was getting tired, but she wanted to do some work and forget about the hole in her chest, which was healing at such a rapid pace. “Miomi tells me you are having difficulty with life here. Are the other girls being mean to you?” 

“No, Madame Calixta, I just miss my home,” said Alesha.

“It is understandable, but you know they brought you here and cast you out. Because of them, you now have the prostitute-tattoo. You can never return.” Calixta needed to be blunt.

“I did nothing wrong. I’m not bad.”

“No, my darling, you are not bad. I am not saying you are, but your fate has been sealed. Your trade has been determined. We are your family now.” Calixta’s energy was low, but something was happening to her sight which she could not simply blame on fatigue. She was seeing lights, and she could see an aura of light around Alesha—it looked amazing. Calixta decided it had to be a trick of the light coming from the windows and the candles in her room.

“But why here? There must be a way for me to return home,” said Alesha.

Alesha was in denial and Calixta did the only thing that would make Alesha understand. Calixta took Alesha’s right arm pulled her sleeve up, then she pulled her own sleeve up and showed Alesha their occupation-tattoos side by side.

“Do you understand what this means?” asked Calixta.

“I know, you are women of the night!” said Alesha, looking down at the floor.

“No, look at both our arms. It means WE are women of the night. You and I are both prostitutes. We have the same trade. Alesha, look at me. The sooner you accept your new reality, the easier it will be to live here,” said Calixta. She was starting to get a little exasperated as she grew progressively more tired. But she maintained a calm demeanor.

“I know. You are all in the same trade,” said Alesha.

“Yes. Isalia, Miomi, me … and all the others who live here and who have been kind to you, and now you too. We, all of us in this house, are women of the night, and now so are you. Look at your tattoo, my dear. We are the same, and now the town will see you as such. Your previous friends will shun you if they see you in the street. When your half-brother touched you, you were contaminated by your family’s rules. It was they who said it was your fault for asking for it. Isn’t this the way according to your customs? Isn’t this the beliefs of your people?” Calixta hated to do this to Alesha, but she was losing her patience and Alesha needed to be made aware of her new reality.

Calixta knew well the feeling of shame. She could see Alesha wanted to regurgitate her food. Calixta understood in her heart that all Alesha could see was her, a woman of the night, and Alesha still thought as a Sheshlia woman. Calixta had seen it before. The way Sheshlia women considered her as an untouchable because of her trade.

“Alesha, you must overcome your repulsion of who we are, because you are one of us now. This reprobate woman sitting in front of you is your boss now. I am an Exotic prostitute. I am the owner of this place. I pay your taxes—you must therefore work, so I can afford to keep you here. But know this: I will protect you from all men and women who may want to hurt you. There are limits to what we do, and your tattoo has a limit to what you will be required to do. I will never allow anyone to force you to do more than your tattoo allows. I will protect you. I need you to understand, this is a safe place for you to work in our trade,” said Calixta.

Alesha was now inside the world of prostitution, currently in the brothel of Madame Calixta. Her own family had brought her to Calixta’s house, and her own mother and father had witnessed, along with Calixta, the application of Alesha’s tattoo at the Trade Office. Alesha was dead to her family. She was a fallen woman to her Sheshlia people. No self-respecting Sheshlia man would ever have her, even as a maid in his household. Calixta could see the look on the young woman’s face. It was unnerving for Calixta to see. The look of I-am-better-off-dead was dangerous.

The look was like a slap to Calixta’s face. But she could do nothing about it. This was the way of the society in which they lived. What had happened to Alesha wasn’t a new story. She had seen it happen many times in her life. But she knew how to help her live and move on.

Alesha just cried. Lonely tears fell, because Calixta could not cry with her. Calixta never cried. Alesha had lost all she’d had. She had lost her identity and her faith, but Calixta hoped Alesha soon would find a new identity.

When Alesha finished crying and raised her face, Calixta saw with her own eyes Alesha’s rebirth and acceptance to a life of the night. Calixta could see dark colors enter the aura surrounding Alesha, and shadows that were not there before she had started crying. What had those virtues done to her? Calixta felt horrible doing this to Alesha. She had never felt bad before when introducing a woman to her new trade. But this time Calixta felt something different. She was afraid.

Calixta shook her head. She rationalized it. She was doing Alesha a favor. Sooner or later, she would need to understand her new place in society. The sooner it was, the easier it would be for her to live her new life. Calixta blinked once, then twice, but the vision did not disappear.

She did not like sitting in front of Alesha and being able to see these things, so Calixta closed her eyes as she continued to speak. “Listen, love, I have no idea why this stupid society treats us woman so poorly. All I know is your body showed the evidence of abuse, and despite your blood brother witnessing the event, your father and mother did not help you. The only favor they did for you was to bring you here, to the best and cleanest brothel in the city. You can stay with us for as long as you want, or choose to work in another brothel, or even walk the streets. Be aware though, the last option is very dangerous. But if you do stay with us, you must work. You have our tattoo and I must pay your taxes.

“I suggest you talk to the girls and get ideas and instructions on how to make this job less of a burden, but it can only be for another few days. The city officials have already started charging me taxes over the coin you are supposed to be making, and they will also charge me taxes for your living with us—whether or not you work. I cannot afford to pay taxes for work you have not done. Do you understand?” Calixta would never force the young woman to do something she clearly did not want to do, but nor could she continue allowing her to board at the Shining Star if she brought in no income. Alesha wasn’t the slut her family had made her out to be, she was just unlucky.

Calixta looked back at Alesha, and there were the shadows again. So, she shook her head and looked down, and focused her mind on her business. She did have a business to run!

Alesha cried again. Her dark-brown eyes reddened and became swollen from crying. For several minutes she could not look up at Calixta. Calixta shook her head several times. She blinked and rubbed her eyes, but it did not stop Calixta from seeing the truth. Calixta did not understand the new gift Temperance had given her. If this was truly happening then the virtue, Temperance, really existed and she had really been in heaven. She now had eyes to see the truth.

ªªª

After Alesha left the room, Calixta went back to bed and rested for the remainder of the day. The next day passed with Calixta sleeping, eating, or reading some books she had been meaning to read for some time. She hardly experienced any pain now, but she still felt listless and had little energy. Late in the afternoon, Miomi and Isalia came to visit with her evening meal. They were dressed and ready to receive clients, but they wanted to spend some time with their friend before working. Isalia’s only job was to receive the clients as she had ceased to be a prostitute when Todd married her.

They were sitting on Calixta’s bed, eating and talking.

“Hey Sissy, when did you get a new tattoo?” asked Isalia.

“What are you talking about?” Calixta looked up at Isalia from her plate of food.

“The new beautiful tattoo on your neck and back. I have helped you bathe many times before and I don’t remember seeing it before Todd shot you. When did you get it? Was it the day you got shot? But it looks healed,” said Isalia.

Calixta was biting on a slice of bread when she heard about the tattoo on the back of her neck. She then remembered the starfish the virtues at the Box-Exchange Train Station placed on her back.

“I … a new tattoo? How does it look? Did you say it is on my neck and back? I need to see. Where is my hand mirror?”

“It starts at the base of your head and neck, and it extends down your spine. It looks like a starfish with a lovely tail. I’ll help you see it later, but for now I’ve got to finish my meal and then go. I have a client arriving in thirty minutes,” said Miomi.

A new tattoo? The dream … the virtues gave me a thing on my back. Wow, that was painful! I need to see. Maybe it was real? Calixta was remembering what happened to her at the hands of Justice and Wisdom, and what Temperance told her in heaven just before Orra grabbed her unceremoniously and pulled her out of the meeting room.

“Well, it is a beautiful and unique tattoo,” said Isalia.

“Yeah, but I know it does not represent a trade, and it is not on a visible part of the body, so …” said Miomi, trying to get more information from her friend. 

“Well, Miomi, if you are going to take care of my papers, you will be needing my signature,” said Calixta, with a flip of her hand as if to form a signature.

“You are changing the subject!” said Miomi.

“I will tell you were all my mail goes and what happens to the invoices. The staff must be paid too.”

“I already paid the staff and took care of the finance books,” said Miomi.

“Good.” Calixta passed her empty plate to Isalia.

“I heard you talked to Alesha,” said Isalia, as she was taking the plates away and placing the tray on the table.

“Yes, I did. Both of you, take care of her and don’t let her be alone. If she wants to go to church let her, but don’t encourage it. You know those priests are deviant and I don’t want one of those pigs asking for her services,” said Calixta.

“Don’t worry. I’ll make sure the other girls will accept her and will integrate her into our group. And about the church, I’ll tell her to wear a covering over her face and go early in the morning to receive her blessing, like all of us undesirables,” said Miomi, standing and giving a gentle caress to Calixta’s face.

“I love you, Miomi,” said Calixta, with a tired expression.

“Hah, not more than I you, corazón,” said Miomi, kissing the crown of Calixta head.

ªªª

Calixta had saved Miomi’s life more than once. Only the three friends knew Miomi’s real story.

When Calixta was a slave, her owner let her do whatever she wanted. The man was old and in love with Calixta. That was when she was enterprising enough to learn all the details of the management of the Shining Star brothel.

On one dreary Day of Lakes, Calixta was at the slave auction in the central plaza of Talbert and she saw Miomi on the auctioneer’s platform, about to be sold to the highest bidder. Miomi was young and almost in the arms of death. She had been stolen from her people and forced to be a sex slave. Her black hair was all matted and she was filthy.

Calixta could see the potential in Miomi. She could see the healer-tattoo on her right arm. The auction started, and the bidding started low, but Calixta outbid them all by offering three pieces of gold for her. No man would offer as much for a personal sex slave, so Calixta bought Miomi. They walked silently to the brothel, but immediately upon arrival Calixta took Miomi to the bathing area and ordered her maids to scrub Miomi from head to toe. Miomi fought the maids as they tried to get her clean.

“Stop your fighting. Your body and hair are filthy,” said Calixta, in Miomi’s language.

“You speak my language?” asked Miomi.

“I speak several languages.” By way of explanation, Calixta revealed her Exotic-tattoo to Miomi.

“You bought me to be a prostitute in your brothel. Am I a slave?” asked Miomi, from inside the large tub.

“No, you can leave now if you like, but know this. A prostitute on the streets lives only a few years. I noticed at the auction you don’t look sick, no obvious sharable illnesses, and that is good. I’ll have our healer come and check you out before you start working and if you are really clean, then you can stay. I can’t have anyone spreading diseases in this establishment. I do promise, if you get hurt or sick, I’ll get you a healer. I will not let any sick men touch you, and you will not do anything that your trade-tattoo does not allow. This is the best of the best brothel in Alhambra.”

“Ask her name,” said Isalia, who was standing in a corner nearby.

“What is your name?” Calixta translated.

“My name is Miomi Lucero Mitasu.” Miomi was looking scared as a maid was cutting her hair.

“Well hello, Miomi Lucero Mitasu. I am Calixta Carlyle and this here is Isalia Fasta,” said Calixta.

“How do you know the men that come here are not sick? I am a healer; I know you must be lying,” said Miomi, as her body hair was being removed.

“My owner, and therefore the brothel owner, had a witch place a charm on the brothel. Any sick men who enter through the door cannot perform in the bedrooms, and because of their egos, no one ever tells, and we always keep their secret. That is how we are protected. But that is our secret, little Miomi. If you tell this to anyone, we are all dead, including you. This type of magic is forbidden in Alhambra. Do you understand?” said Calixta, with a half-smile.

“Yes,” said Miomi.

“You will learn to be more than just a lowly prostitute. I will teach you what you need to know to be a courtesan like Isalia. My friend Isalia will teach you how to stand and walk. You must learn our language,” said Calixta, in a gentle voice.

So, Miomi bowed her head. Calixta taught her the fine use of her language and how to read. And from the first lesson, Calixta considered Miomi her protégé, later her friend, and eventually her sister.

CHAPTER 5

Jadro

“Wake, Jadro! you have another task. find the one that came back from the dead. it is the third vanquisher. you said you killed her at birth, but here she is; the third very much alive,” the evil master’s angry voice shouted. “I want that one in my hands. This new one who walks in the light must serve me or be killed. Do this now and don’t fuck it up.”

The smell of rotten eggs and spoiled milk mixed together while the disembodied voice spoke. The air became heavy, and the strong smell was like a pungent rotten perfume that stays with a person for an entire day. The voice came from the deepest corners of hell. It gave no excuses, no happy ending, only darkness. The voice gave an order and it had to be obeyed.

ªªª

In the darkness, deep in the basement of a house near a cemetery, Jadro awoke. His master had given him an order. This was a direct order and one that he could not avoid even if he wanted to.

“Ha, ha, ha, the Twenty have broken the rules. This is going to be fun, My Master. I have all in my favor. This has never been seen in Alhambra,” said Jadro.

“That is why you must turn, or kill, the one who brings the new light—or I will kill you.”

The voice was gone, but the smell remained.

This was unnerving for Jadro. He had everything under control. His war was happening; his demons were doing his bidding. He had gone to sleep the morning before after killing an entire village of Morai. But this dusk he woke to the voice of his master and to the glow of a bright light in Talbert. His master wanted the third Vanquisher to serve him, which was going to be a hard thing to do.

He remembered well how he managed to kill the master mage of the third Vanquisher of Alhambra before the third was even born. He had killed the third Vanquisher’s mother, and he thought it was before the Vanquisher’s birth. This was not possible; the child could not be alive. But now light came back from the dead, and his master had made it Jadro’s priority to find and kill the Vanquisher once and for all. This wasn’t something to take lightly.

He had killed the mother. The Vanquisher had to have died in the mother’s womb. He had killed her mother—of that there was no doubt—but maybe the babe did not die in the womb. How could the untrained Vanquisher have survived all these years? Now, the Vanquisher had been revealed, and their light shined brightly.

Jadro feared he needed to wake Nartago. They would need to join forces once more to take over Alhambra before the Vanquishers were able to gather and walk the land again. The Vanquishers of Behui were dead, and Yakuta had no Vanquishers. Those four must be killed. The master mages must never come back, and magic could never be allowed to reemerge to remind the people there was a god taking care of them. That wasn’t something Jadro wanted or could tolerate.

It was time to resurrect his slayer demons and other demon-kin in the Kingdom of Alhambra. The Elves were in slumber, slowly dying. But there was much work to do. He needed to continue his work on the king of Alhambra. But first thing was first: his master wanted this Vanquisher dead.

He needed to locate the one who had come back from the Box-Exchange Train Station. This wasn’t just an ordinary peasant do-gooder. This was the third Vanquisher; he was sure of it.

Jadro left the basement where he sometimes slept and entered the sewers. He did not sleep inside a box, or in a closet, but he craved darkness. He liked to be down in the open shadows that stretched out from large constructions, where he could easily jump on top of anyone who got near him. He gained an advantage by sleeping in a large crack up in a wall, in a basement, or down in the sewer. Then if he heard an intruder, he could just drop and kill. No fuss, no muss, no coconuts, dead and done.

Late in the night, Jadro walked about the streets, not caring to kill, maim, or hurt anyone. He had a mission that came directly from his master. He found the cemetery and there was his crypt. He opened the door with an incantation. No one ever disturbed his inner sanctum thanks to his charm. He entered the crypt, removed the lid from his tomb, and revealed the spiral stairs leading downward. He descended the stairs, absently noting his clothing where he had left them on a peg, and there were his favorite weapons hiding as drawings on the walls of the stairwell. As he went down, he called each weapon by its name, and the weapon emerged from the wall and flew straight to his hand. Upon reaching the bottom, the stairwell opened out into the first hall, where he found the hiding places of his favorite demons.

They hid very well as drawings on the wall of the room. They slept until called by their master, Jadro. He would utter another of his incantations and the demon-drawing would come alive. The demon would slowly take form, peeling from the wall.

They took shape and stepped out, yawning and stretching. Jadro and his demons gathered in the next hall, which connected to other crypts, and where a hole in the roof let the light from the moon seep in.

Jadro flicked his fingers and a little sliver of fire ignited, which he used to light some torches at each corner and along the lengths of the walls. There was a large map of the city on one wall, but it was no ordinary map. Jadro wanted to see where the life force of the one who came back from the dead was located within the city.

The task of finding the Vanquisher wasn’t going to be easy because the body had never been buried, and apparently it was kept in a lit room for the entire time it had been dead. But Jadro knew it was only a matter of time before he would find the one with the bright light moving about his map on the wall. The light was too bright, and it covered many street blocks. It also mingled with the light of many others surrounding it. But soon enough, she or he would do something stupid and the light would start diminishing slowly—people always did. Then he would see where this new light was living.

CHAPTER 6

Calixta’s Light was Diminishing

A few days later, early in the afternoon, there was a knock at the front door of Madame Calixta’s brothel. The constable had come to see about the body of the Madame, shot two weeks earlier. They were still looking for the man who killed the Madame. The woman was a prostitute, but it was a crime after all. The other women needed protection and the townspeople were worried for the safety of the neighborhood. There was a murderer on the loose.

Old Antwan the butler opened the door and let the constable into the foyer.

“I’m here to see whomever is in charge of the establishment,” said Constable O’Doul. 

“I’ll go get m’lady, Constable O’Doul. You can come in and wait in the parlor,” said Antwan.

Constable O’Doul was happy to be invited in to wait while old Antwan walked away, ever so erect and stately, to get his mistress; it gave him the chance to look around. The constable had never been inside the legendary Shining Star. He had heard rumors the place was filled with expensive furniture and even the smell of the place was supposed to be reminiscent of opulence. It was said the walls were adorned with paintings by famous artists and the surfaces displayed objects d’art from exotic locations. When he entered the parlor, it was as if he was in another world entirely. He had never seen something so elegant. The walls were a soft cream-colored wallpaper and the floor was perfectly polished, with a beautiful soft rug in the middle and a grand table. There were four chairs and a fireplace with an exquisitely preserved mantle. So far, the brothel did not look like any brothel the constable had ever visited.

Thus far all the rumors were true. Even the smell of the place was different. When he entered the parlor, there was a faint scent of lavender and pipe tobacco—unlike the brothels he had visited before, where he could smell the rancid smell of alcohol and sex from the entrance door. At the Shining Star he could hear the soft tick-tock of a tall grandfather clock in the corner, and there was a coolness to the air that was different from the street. The parlor had a perfect temperature.

 “Good afternoon, Constable O’Doul. Antwan tells me you wanted to see me. We are not yet open for business.” Miomi had entered the room quietly. Her soft voice startled the constable. When he turned and saw her, he was in awe of her beauty; her skin was a very savory pale peach, and her eyes were amber. She was dressed in a black skirt and a white blouse and it had many of the top buttons opened, exposing her creamy breasts. She had left her black hair loose over her shoulders, pinned only on the sides. 

When she entered the parlor and O’Doul saw her, he almost lost his breath. The woman was stunning. He could understand why the place was so famous among the rich men for hundreds of miles surrounding Talbert. He would give more than a month’s salary just to bed this one woman one time in his life. But he was at her door for business and in his capacity as a man of the law.

“I’m here about the death of Madame Carlyle. We don’t have a record of what happened to her body. She was shot two weeks ago, and the Trade Officers need a death certificate for tax purposes. We must complete all the paperwork concerning her death. What did you do with the body? I have a healer and an undertaker waiting outside. They are both Sheshlia and do not want to enter your establishment. You do understand their religion?”

“Yes, of course, but my employer did not die. She is very much alive,” said Miomi.

“She what? What do you mean?” Constable O’Doul looked stunned.

“She is alive, corazón.” Miomi spoke softly.

“How can it be? You sent word she was dead,” said the constable, with a frown.

“She was unconscious and barely breathing. I am a prostitute, not a registered healer. The usual healer that sees us is out of town and all the others would not provide us healing services. I took the bullet out of her chest myself and she kept on breathing. She is alive and that is all I have to say. Do you want to talk to her?” Miomi gave him a sexy smile.

“Is she up and able to talk?” asked O’Doul in disbelief.

“Yes, but she is very weak.”

“I still need to see her and ask her what she remembers of the man who shot her. I’ll be brief. I know all of you have given my deputy your witness accounts, but I need her side of the story.”

“Sure, just wait a few minutes. I’ll see if m’lady will see you.” Miomi turned and left the man alone in the parlor.

Thirty minutes later, Calixta entered the parlor. She appeared weak, tired, and pale, but had enough energy to walk assisted by Isalia. If Miomi was beautiful, Calixta was stunning. The man could not believe his eyes. The woman in front of him, although weak, had rich, light-brown hair highlighted with lighter, reddish-brown strands throughout. It was well-arranged on the back of her head. She had the most piercing hazel-green eyes, and her creamy face had not one blemish. When she smiled, she had a dimple on one cheek.

“Hello, and welcome to my establishment,” said Calixta in her sexy voice, with a bright demeanor.

“It can’t be. My deputy said you were dead. He said you had bruises on your face from your fall and there was blood all over your body. The way he described you, there is no way for you to be alive. Someone must be playing games with me. You don’t look to be at death’s door,” said the constable.

“I was shot, and I was hurt, but Miomi helped me the best she could. I pulled through.” Calixta felt dizzy and raised a hand to her head. O’Doul took the opportunity to hold Calixta and help her sit on one of the chairs.

“Is this going to take much longer? I need rest.” Calixta looked at the man, and Miomi went to stand next to her friend and employer.

“You must go, Constable. You saw her, but she can’t be standing for long. ¿Entiendes?” Miomi appeared to be very concerned about Calixta.

“Would you step outside for the healer to see you? He will not come inside your home. He is a Sheshlia,” said the constable.

“Since the healer refused to enter my home, I choose not to be examined outside. I am not a street walker. I am an Exotic. I will not give a free peep show to anyone passing by, but I am happy to answer your questions if they don’t take long,” said Calixta.

Calixta answered the constable’s questions and he left the house. He also agreed to come back with news if he found the man who had shot Calixta. Later in the day, the constable’s deputy arrived with documents for Calixta to sign, and he agreed to keep helping with the search.

ªªª

A week after the constable visited the brothel, Calixta was feeling much better. One late afternoon, Calixta was staring blindly out of her window, thinking on the business for the coming night. She was smoking a cigarette and letting her mind wander. She had yet to dress for the evening’s entertainment. As ever, she received all the clients with grand hospitality as they entered her establishment and ensured she collected the fees, but that night she had to accept clients just like Alesha had to start her job.

Her routine, after the shooting, was for Miomi to sit and have lunch with her every day. They would talk, and she would bring her the finance books to go over. It was good Miomi had taken over the task. But tonight, Calixta only had Alesha in her mind. Tonight was Alesha’s initiation as a woman of the night at Madame Calixta Carlyle’s establishment.

Calixta was being charged taxes for having an extra girl in her brothel. So, it came time for Alesha to start her new job or leave. When Miomi let Alesha know she was to receive her first client, Alesha cried all day and night and the next day. They asked her what she would do. She could leave if she wanted, but living on the streets with her trade-tattoo was dangerous. So, she chose to stay and Miomi stood by her side all day. The women made sure Alesha’s body was properly prepared.

Calixta moved from the window and looked at herself in the mirror. She was perfect, from her hair to her shoes. A Madame ready to welcome her brothel’s clients. She had a beautiful, tight black dress on, which made her look regal, the bullet wound hidden under a cover of lace.

Calixta and Miomi had hand-picked the client for Alesha, and she only had the one. They were so sorry for the young woman. Life was horrible in Alhambra, but they did the best they could with what they had. Calixta left her room. She walked slowly, her mind dwelling on the many times she had done what she was about to do this night. She went through her private hall from her bedroom, and down the stairs to the front of the brothel.

The night progressed and close to midnight Alesha’s assigned client arrived. The man was a regular to the brothel. Lord Shedfield was a man in his late thirties, with a wife and four children. His wife refused to sleep with him anymore because she did not want to have any more children. The man had striking black hair and was in his prime, but he did not want to get a mistress. So, he frequented the best brothel in the city of Talbert, Madame Calixta Carlyle’s Shining Star Salon.

“Hello, Lord Shedfield, always so handsome!” The man had exquisite taste in clothing and could afford it.

“Madame Calixta, you are a sight for sore eyes. You are gorgeous as always. I heard you were seriously wounded, but I see people are given to exaggeration. You look like morning sunshine.”

“Oh, thank you, my Lord, you flatter me, darling. It is so lovely to see you as well. I was hurt but it wasn’t as serious as many people made it sound. But enough about me. You are here for some fun, right? But I see you came much later than usual. I almost gave your favorite room to someone else,” said Calixta.

“I had unexpected business to attend to. But I’m here now.” Lord Shedfield removed his gloves and sat on one of the chairs in the parlor.

“Indeed, my Lord. I am surprised a man with so many responsibilities can stay as good-looking and debonair as your Lordship. May I offer you a port before you go to see the lovely I’ve selected for you tonight?”

“You are one little minx, my lovely Calixta. But no, I’ve had enough for the night. Nevertheless, I thank you, my dear Calixta. So … who do I have for tonight, Sefira or Deborah?” asked Lord Shedfield.

“Alesha. She is new to my establishment, young and very pretty. She is nervous, but I know you have a soft hand and she will please you well. She is waiting for you in your favorite room. I believe you know the way.”

The man smiled, stood up from his chair, and left the reception room, leaving a bag of coin on the table. Calixta knew the man well. He was one of her personal lovers on occasion. He was a gentleman and he would not hit Alesha.

Calixta remembered the first time she had to endure a client. She was but a child of fourteen. Work wasn’t what Calixta would call what happened on her first night. So, she had Miomi spy on Alesha. She did not want Alesha to do anything more than her tattoo allowed.

But then Calixta’s client arrived, so she walked with the man to his favorite room, and Isalia stayed by the door.

And Calixta’s aura dimmed some more.

ªªª

A few hours before dawn, Calixta was sitting at her desk, smoking a cigarette, drinking some wine, and completing the accounting books for the night. Miomi knocked on her door and, when called, she walked in with a platter of tea and some food.

“You are supposed to be resting. I know you wanted to be up to receive Alesha’s client, but afterward you should have had gone back to bed.” Miomi looked very tired.

“Hah! Chance would be a fine thing. I had two clients of my own tonight,” said Calixta.

“Sissy, you are not fully recovered. Why did you accept clients?”

“You know we need the coin. After the fiasco with Isalia’s husband, we’ve had several days with no business and my taxes are high. What I did tonight made up for three nights of slow business.” Calixta raised her arms to undo her braids and relieve some tension in her scalp.

“Did they mention anything about your bruises?” asked Miomi.

“I was lucky tonight; neither had the opportunity to notice my scars. One only wanted me to sing, converse about politics, and have a late supper with him. The other wanted me to dance with him, and after, he did not bother to get me fully undressed. Plus, he didn’t last long.” Calixta was reclining on her chair, her dress mostly undone. She rarely looked at anyone directly anymore. She could see the different-colored lights swirling around them and it bothered her. She needed to control the annoying visual illness. Pio’s light was the brightest and most beautiful, and he was the only one she could look at directly for hours. “Neither one of the men saw my bruises. And the scars are going away slowly. I know I must be careful. In any case, I’ll rest later. And you are the one who should be resting. You had your share of clients tonight. You want a cigarette?”

“No thank you, I am fine. I am used to my clients.” Miomi looked exhausted and weary.

“I think I have all these books done for the night. How is Alesha?”

“She did well. Lord Shedfield was a great choice for her. Alesha followed her training. She drank a cup of tea we left on her table, and when Shedfield approached, Alesha stayed calm. Like you asked, I stayed the entire time. She did what we taught her and did not cry. She does need practice. Poor girl, el cretino de su half-brother rapes her and somehow it is her fault. Her familia should be shot, all of them.” Miomi looked up, newly enraged, as she was each time she spoke about the events leading up to Alesha’s downfall. “I know her life changed forever tonight. That estúpida familia of hers.”

“Miomi, you must calm down. Her life changed forever when her family failed her. But it is their way. The only thing we can do is protect her as much as we can from the rough clients. Her mind will soon understand this life comprises the trade this society has given her, as instructed by her own father and mother. Where is she now?” asked Calixta, lighting a new cigarette.

“She is in her room sleeping.”

“I want her awake for the midday meal and I want the girls to stay around her. She is not to be left alone for even a moment. Give her something to hope for, something for her to look forward to tomorrow. Does she like animals? Offer her a kitten, that may help her,” said Calixta.

“Calixta, I am tired of this life.” When Miomi was upset, her accent became more pronounced.

“You and me both, my friend, but unfortunately, we are part of this hypocritical society we live in. Our society is horrid to women. But you have value beyond your dreams. You help me to protect those whom society has discarded. This is just the way we make coin. In some ways you could argue that we’re better off than the married women. We just have multiple rich husbands, any of whom we can refuse, and we do not have to do their laundry or carry their children.”

“Sissy, you are a silver-tongue. I love you,” said Miomi.

“I love you too. Later this morning when Alesha wakes, please tell her she will have one client tonight. She will have a client each night for the following two nights and then we will add a client on the fourth night and give her a day’s rest the day after. Then we will add a third client. She will not see any more than three clients until she gets used to the routine.”

Calixta was going about her life and her business and was forgetting all about the Box-Exchange Train Station. She still could not look into anyone’s eyes directly, but she was starting to believe the auras she saw around people were the aftereffect of having been dead. It was an illness or an injury of some sort. She believed the train station and the virtues were all a dream. Even the new star-tattoo on the back of her neck wasn’t a reminder of her initiation as a Vanquisher. Ultimately, she could not see the tattoo.

Little did she realize that her bright reddish-yellow light was dimming. And Jadro was happier than ever. He could finally see where in Talbert the Vanquisher was living and hiding.

ªªª

One night after Jadro entered his crypt to look at the map, he noticed the light of the Vanquisher had dimmed enough for his purposes. Then Jadro knew he was a lucky man.

“How serendipitous this is. She walks in darkness. She is already one of mine.”

How had she managed to hide under his nose for so long? He had slept with this one many times. She was an Exotic. She was a delectable thing of beauty.

How ironic. She was the one, the prophesized third Vanquisher who was supposed to strike the crushing blow and decimate demon-kind in Alhambra. And here she was, the owner of one of his most favorite establishments in the town, a brothel house. She was under the foot of man; a whore created by society. How lucky could he get? She was one of his children. She was an Exotic and soon she would be in his arms again.

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