Fini

They said the monk was dead. They didn’t know who or what he was really; they only said that a man with long, blondish hair wearing strange robes had been found on the beach beyond the seawall. He’d been face down in the sand. When the lycan who’d scented him had rolled him over, the expression frozen on the man’s face had been one of shock mingled with horror.

I sipped my tea, listening as the talk in the Haven continued. Who was he? Had anyone ever seen him around before? He didn’t look like a Righteous or a Shadow. His curious death had become a topic for early morning conversation over a bottle of beer or a full shot glass, the easy idle speculation of bored and hung over patrons.

But I had known the man. I’d known his purpose, if not his origins. Setting down my cup, I templed my fingers to my forehead in concentration, closing my eyes to think. I wondered if he had been successful in his quest. The monk had said he was on a pilgrimage. It was not, I discovered, a pilgrimage to a city or a country: it was, instead, a pilgrimage to Nareth—or rather, the young woman who called herself that. She was his holy place. He’d wanted to take her back with him to the island temple of his faith. He’d wanted to make her a god.

And then she was gone. Without a word or a message, she’d disappeared from the Library where she had taken refuge, slipping away unobserved. The identification card and the communication device I had taken from her were gone as well, spirited away from the locked chest in which I’d placed them. Not only was this future Nareth gone, but the golem Nareth had vanished, too.

“Tag,” Bella had said to me once. “It’s a game to her…making the other Nareths come unstuck in time.” Perhaps that is what had happened. Maybe it was tag. She’d succeeded and they had all gone….

After all, the monk was dead.

****

Off the coast of Cyprus there is an island. The night is balmy as warm breezes blow in from the sea, but in the seemingly endless subterranean passage the girl feels only a cool dampness against her skin. She hears the clicking and chittering of blind cave dwellers, and like them, she has no eyes to see: lidless sockets sit deep in her small, brown face. She turns her head slightly, listening to the sound of a pan flute in the distance….

The Marketplace
Deadweight
Satyr

شاهنامه

I stood in the doorway of the Haven, gazing at the crowd and taking in the smells of smoke and the beer soaked floor. Seeing Grr behind the glass of the DJ booth and Omega dancing, I made my way in their direction toward the circular booth and tables in the back, nodding a greeting but not speaking. I was bone weary and tired of thinking. I could see Grr looking me over carefully from where from where he stood, his head lolling from side to side.

“Dance with me, Joah?” Omega smiled.

I lowered my head for a moment, my hand to my forehead somewhat torn. I knew Omega’s arms could only be, at best, fleeting comfort for the crushing sense of loss that I felt. All I could think of was Nareth and Aunt Beast, Bella’s words echoing in my mind. The ache and the desire for what was lost was physically painful to me.

My hesitation did not go unnoticed by Omega. “If you’d rather sit? You look tired, M’dear….” Grr pulled off his headset and chucked it on the counter, then hopped over the booth to pull a chair out for me. Omega grinned. “Sit, and keep an eye on that coyote...you can never tell when he's up to mischief.” Omega’s hips moved in time to the music as she laughed. “Well…you can…he's usually breathing.”

Grr feigned deafness cupping an ear and mouthing "Huuh?" while he pulled back the chair and gestured me to it. I accepted gratefully, sinking down into the cool dark leather as Grr ran a paw warmly over my shoulder. He then looked at his bare wrist where a watch might sit and rushed back to the DJ desk. I settled in, watching Omega glide across the floor, smooth steps in time with the pulse of the music. At a tapping on the glass of the DJ booth I turned, seeing Grr press a note to the pane: “Is yer brain okay?" I gave him a tired smile with a slight nod of my head.

Through the broad, plate glass window fronting the street I could see Severus and Nerissa, her close and almost touching him in the sheeting rain. He didn’t flinch, standing still, pale eyes locked with hers. My gaze shifted back to Omega, watching her easy movements, head dipping and red hair cascading over her shoulders. Leaning back I rested my hands in my lap, opening one gloved palm to release a small ball of flame, which I began to roll absently between my finger and thumb.

"Lady," I looked up, speaking under the noise, "Bella is not dead." Omega cocked her head toward me to listen. “"Bellatrix. She's not dead," I repeated. I continued to roll the ball of flame, through thumb and index finger, then between each finger of my hand. A tinkling, musical sound could be barely heard as it moved.

“Bella?” she asked. “Well, that is an interesting piece of news.”

I nodded. “Earlier, during the party on the beach…I dislike crowds… I was working in the Library, talking to that little self-hating vampire…and…she just walked in. I had thought she was dead.”

Omega smiled. “The age of miracles has not yet past.” I watched as she moved rhythmically, the motion traveling from feet to hands, head to hip. “And did she mention where she's been all this time?”

Grr hopped onto the desk and leaned over the glass. "I’m real sorry I missed it, Spirit Gal, I'd have liked ta whisk ya away."

“Whisk me away?” I smiled.

Grr nodded sagely. “Crowds…not my favourestest thing ever, neither…and…um…things unfinished.” I gazed at his golden eyes for a moment as he opened his mouth, starting to speak, then closing it again his thought left unsaid. He reached with a toe claw, cuing the next track, and then hopped of the desk, appearing to sort through his music with much concentration. I turned back toward Omega.
“She said she’d been away. We talked of so much…I can't quite remember it all. There was a boat….” I frowned in concentration and focused again on the fiery ball in my hand, pitching it up, catching it as came down. I half closed my hand and blew into it, watching as the little ball flared out. "No more the dancers," I whispered to myself.

As the flame flared out, a swirl of crimson and gold arose in the middle and danced above it. I was dimly aware of Grr padding over to hug me around the middle, giving me a gentle head bump. I turned from the flame to Grr, surprised at the suddenness of his affection, though the flame continued to hover over my hand, a crimson and gold bead forming. Grr watched me, a thoughtful expression on his face.

I breathed deeply as the crimson and gold bead spread out into a date palm tree, red branches dripping clusters of golden dates. I remained focused on the flame, watching Omega dance over the top of its flares, the fire of Her hair and clothing melding with the fiery tree in my palm. The branches of the date palm turned up, spreading into crimson wings that elongated into talons.

Grr watched, fixated by the flickering as only children or the not quite human can be. The crimson and gold fanned out and turned in on itself, the outer whorl forming into three crimson sepals and the inner whorl into three golden petals. A fiery orchid shimmered in the air, pulsing as if alive, the red labellum swelling.

I gazed at Omega over and through flames as her hair swayed, lingering on the white throat and the gentle swell of Her breast.
Grr shuddered slightly and let out a low moan as the orchid pulsed and shimmered, opening slightly before dissolving in a shower of sparks. I began to drift to the music.

Omega stopped dancing, turning to look at me then taking a chair beside me. “Interesting trick.” She leaned an elbow on the table, resting her head on a hand. “Would you like to see one of mine?”

I felt adrift, unfocused. Shaking my head as if awakening from a dream, I turned toward Omega. “Yes, Lady. Of course.”

Omega smiled, looking at me intently. “Are you quite sure?” I met her gaze nodding, but she continued to stare at me, waiting for a response.

“Yes, Lady. Please show me.”

“That's yes, then?” Omega continued to smile, eyes trailing up and down, once again, waiting for a response.

“Yes. Please,” I murmured.

The Lady’s grin turned feral. “There we are, not so hard, little one? Thrice. Give me your wrist.” Omega reached out a hand for my wrist, leaning forward on the table, taking it and gently turning it, palm up. She pulled the seam of my glove back, raising my wrist to her lips, smiled, then sank her fangs in.

I gasped, the shock and pain sudden, and surprising. The Lady had never fed from me before. Grr gasped. “The poison…" I choked out, feeling a warm sensation rush through me.

Omega continued to drink from my wrist, closing her eyes. After a moment, she raised her raised her lips, her eyes bright. “One man's poison…is another's meat...so says the Bible….” She released my wrist with a sigh and looked directly at me. “I promised you a trick....”

Stretching her hand out towards me, palm up, Omega took a deep, deliberate breath, drawing air in and centering herself. She licked her lips, and smiled, closing her eyes, as her palm trembled slightly and a ball of flame appeared, then and spiraled, taking the form of a phoenix. I felt…pulled…as if connected somehow still to Omega, watching the fiery bird hover above her palm.

Grr muttered, "Tha fire is tha blood, tha blood, tha fire."

"What is it that you know?" I stammered, confused.

Omega opened her eyes. “Thrice given, Joah...you ought to mind your words….” She smiled as the flame-bird flapped its wings and flew into the ether.

My Darling Bella

June 25

My Darling Bella,

There is little time now, and I am expected. I would have you know that, in my way, I have cared much for you, though I know I am too poor instrument for the expression of compassion. You know that well enough, as you know that, in all the ages of my life, you are one of the few who has provided me with genuine companionship and in whom I have been able to confide. As the walls of my existence crumble and all my days and faces blur together, I will abide in you one last secret.

I have spoken to you of my games of "tag" plenty enough times, though I know the matter remains largely a mystery to you. I will speak this as plainly as I am able. I have forseen the hour of my undoing, and against that day have I placed a means that I might one day be returned to myself. A means by which the scattered pieces of my being may be reassembled, even when I seem completely beyond recall. When the first of these opportunities presents itself, I believe you will know her, if only by the name we share. She will no doubt speak of her meeting with me, which, of course, was but a meeting with herself.

Many things are hidden to me. But I know that any of those I have touched, any of those displaced in my passing, may serve as the vessel of my rebirth. Only that part of me held by Lorne cannot be easily enough regained. And I may have no true need of that sliver.

Guard the sigil, and the child of Larissa, the phial of blood I have given you, and everything else I have entrusted to you. My Sire may or may not desire my true resurrection. If she does, she and the OI will be a great aid. If not, you must find some other path and not hesitate to follow it.

All is not lost, even knowing the storm that approaches me. I may yet be far more than those who designed me intended, and, also far less. I desire to be no mere gate for the trespass of gods, no machine, and I have seen worlds where I am a mortal woman. From one of these templates might I be rebuilt and my mind restored. She will come to you. I will come to you.

There is no time left to me. The Pit is waiting, and work. I do not regret, for I am not able, but even now I feel your absence.

In Time,
Nareth

Dearest Sire, My Lady Omega

Bellatrix walks quickly up the stairs from the Library foyer to Omega’s office, each step soundless and urgent. The massive door stands closed before her but she does not hesitate to breach its lock. Placing one hand above it, she takes a breath…and with a pop and click, the workings turn and the door opens. Straight past Omega’s desk she goes, to the mahogany secretary standing flush against the rear wall. She opens the lower desk, studying the arrangement of drawers, doors and slots within it. Her fingers glide over the locked prospect door, she taps…another click and the little door opens revealing two of valanced pigeonholes above a drawer. She slides the drawer open and lifts out a letter that is worn with reading and folded in half.

Dearest Sire, My Lady Omega,

Even now, I will not express sentiments that I do not feel. Not when writing to you of such grave matters. I was born into the Institute, and served it as a Ward, and in all my long years and travels, nowhere else has ever come this close to being home for me. There is much I still do not understand about my Nature, even after all my work with Pontifex. But I do know that I cannot serve you unless I am whole. Just as a weapon must not have free will, neither can it function when deprived of its essential mechanism. Lorne holds that now, and I must have it back. Without my vision, I am raveling, the paths of all my pasts and presents bleeding one into the other. I am in each instant now Nareth, Erzebet, Jack, Labyrinth, La Bête de Gevaudan, and a hundred other identities assumed or stolen in my former travels. Only by the greatest force of will can I focus to write this. For the second time, I go down to the Pit. I believe I shall not return, that I go to my final death, or something far worse. But I am helpless to do otherwise. I will be whole, or there is no reason for me to be. Perhaps there were other routes open to me in this pursuit, but it is my failing that has brought me here, so it must be my quest. If I fall, please be kind to Bellatrix, as she has served me well, and take care of young Abigel. I know you will remember me, so long as you exist, and, for that reason alone, I wish now I could feel simple regret, that my creators had so endowed me. I have left my armband on the table upstairs. I must close this now. I am expected.

Nareth

Tag

Bella coughed quietly into her hand. I looked up from my writing, surprised to see the dark-haired woman. Rainwater dripped from her clothing and pooled on the floor. She’d been gone for a while. I had thought, perhaps, she was dead or had left the City for good. “Good evening, Praetor. Things have changed while I was away.”

“Bella,” I smiled in greeting. “Yes, much has changed.” I gestured broadly around the room, my hand sweeping the circle of the Library’s recent renovations.

I watched as she took a deep breath. “She is…gone. We are alone.” Bella lowered her eyes. “I felt her...pass.”

“It is almost as though she never was,” I sighed, closing my tablet and laying down my pen. “There is no mention of her. No discussion. Pontifex has disappeared. Cerdwin is gone. Artemisia. As though they’d never existed.”

“All the dancers, I should think,” Bella murmured. “I almost didn't come back here myself. I suspected I was thought dead.”

I nodded. “I had thought you so, Bella. I didn't think your body could endure.”

Bella turned, walking to the windows, and gazing out into the night rain. “I awoke…on a boat. I suppose she left me there. I was very ill.
Maybe she thought I was dead. Maybe not.” She paused, breathing deeply and wrapping her arms around her chest. “You feel the absence of her, too?”

“You know I swore i would send her back, Bella. But…I never thought she would really go.”

“Was it you who did?”

“Yes,” I nodded. “As did Pontifex. And Omega. Others.”

Bella sighed quietly. “I did not know. I only felt her leave.” Bella turned to me, eyes full of sadness mixed with anger. “Who was that wreck of a vampire that was just here?”

“Truthfully, I don’t know, Bella. She sought refuge from the Lady Omega, and appears impossibly to be pregnant. She was going on and on about refusing to feed, filled with self-loathing of her own nature before she became frightened and fled.”

“The little coward.” A bitter smile crossed Bella’s face. “Nareth wouldn't give it to me. I asked...I asked repeatedly. Now...I'm not even a doll anymore.”

I looked at the floor, unable to meet her eyes, remembering the taste of Nareth’s blood in my own mouth. “Do you feel the desire still?”

Bella gave a harsh laugh and looked at her hands. “Perhaps we shouldn't discuss my desires.” I watched settle into one of the armchairs near the window and reach into her pocket, drawing out a straight razor. “I know that it has changed me, but I wanted that change. I wanted much more.”

I focused on the razor, my face impassive. Bella caught my eye. “Oh, it's not her razor. I have no idea what became of that.” Bella folded the razor open, staring at the blade.

“I…Labyrinth gave it to me,” I began. “It was hungry…it called to me...Nareth’s sigil. I…gave it to Pontifex the night we sent her back, to open the way.”

Bella nodded. “So, he took it when he left?”

“Yes,” I replied. “He took it. And he cut all the bindings from his hands and his arms. When he freed himself of Omega, he left.” I frowned, remembering. “But he gave the blade to Denenthorn who tries to master it, thus it bends him. I have told him he is a fool if he thinks he can.”

“I see,” Bella laughed, folding the razor closed. “So, it's still here. She put a great deal of herself into that blade.”

“And what have you put into yours, Bella?”

“Do you ask me that as my Praetor? Or as...someone who has tasted Nareth?”

I sighed. “I ask as someone who has walked through the void.”

Bellatrix nodded slowly. “I try to follow her example. Part of me can't accept that we lost them both. A god and...Nareth....”

“The stars were not…right, Bella. Perhaps not for Aunt Beast, nor Nareth. And yet…” I trailed off, unable to find the words to express the greatness of the loss and the problem of the brown girl from the beach. I could feel Bella watching me closely.

“And yet?”

It was my turn to stare blankly through the rain drizzled glass. “I went walking by the sea the other night,” I began. “I stopped at a small fire to warm my hands. There were two people there. One, a blondish man in some sort of religious garb. He said he had a boat not far from the shore. The other was a small, dark girl, drenched and shivering. She said she had walked from the sea.”

Bella shifted in her chair. “Walked...from…the sea?”

I nodded. “She was disoriented…she kept asking when she would awaken from the dream.”

“What was her name, Praetor?” Bella began biting at her lower lip.

“Her name is Nareth,” I replied.

I reached into my pocket and pulled out what appeared to be a green button and a small plastic card. “This button…she said is a state identity card.” I held it up between thumb and forefinger, rubbing it a little. It began to flash and Bella sat up straighter. “It didn't work at first. But I was able to start it functioning again…the sea water, you see.”

“Praetor,” Bella turned to me. “What year? Past, or future? Future, I'm guessing.”

“Future,” I replied. “Perhaps…future. At least that's what the identification card said.”

“Tag,” Bella murmured. “That's what Nareth called it. Playing tag.” Bella frowned slightly, looking at the objects in my hand. “Yes. She told me, when we were at sea with Abigail. For a while, she amused herself…by tracking herself down. Before she was Omega's Chylde...she did it...I can't recall…ten or twenty times, she said.”

Bella stopped talking and began staring at me as I pinched the button into temporary lifelessness. “She…met herself in time?” I asked with wonder, but there was no disbelief in my voice. I dropped the button and the card back in my pocket.

“Repeatedly,” Bella replied. “She thought it was a sort of game.
Tag.”

“A doppelganger game of chase,” I mused. “But to what end?”

Bella slumped in her chair. “She said it caused the...other hers…to become unstuck…unstuck in time. She just…liked the game.”

I nodded. “It was always the game for her, wasn't it?”

“Praetor,” Bella interrupted, “Are you telling me that one of them has come here?”

“Yes, Bella. I think…I think yes.”

Bella cursed silently under her breath. “Where is she?”

“She . . . I don't know,” I sighed. “I left her resting upstairs. She was tired. Grr fixed food for her, but she didn’t eat. I took her upstairs to the cot by the window where Aunt Beast often rested…but…she’s gone now.” I stared out the window, my jaw clenched.

“She left?” Bella asked, incredulous. “She was…allowed...to leave? Jesus...” Bella placed a hand on the pocket with the razor. “The machine...Nareth said...the machine functioned...to the favor of her,” Bella trailed off.

“The machine?” I wondered aloud.

“Well…she said it wasn't a real machine, only a metaphor.” Bella jammed her hand into her pocket. “The machine was here to cover her tracks. Whoever created her, created the machine. People tended…to look the other way.”

I held my face in my hands and began rubbing my temples. “Because people prefer not to see.”

“Something like that,” Bella nodded. “I never understood it very clearly. She just rambled...I listened. Sometimes I thought she was insane. Like…Azathoth.”

“What is she, Bella?” I asked. “What is at the core of her?”

“Nareth?” Bella laughed. “I was only her lover...her blood doll. I can tell you what she wanted me to believe. But...I know it's a lie. That she was...a sort of….” Bella stopped and looked at me evenly. “Let's say an archetype. She would have said that she was the archetypal murderer. But I know it's vastly more complicated than that. She had no intention of ever letting me see the whole.” Bella sighed. “I was only...well…her doll.

“But...think about this, Praetor...she once said...when I asked her about playing tag....She once said, ‘Back up copies,’ and I had no idea what she meant, not then. Do you see? I thought it was a joke.”

I smoothed my skirt, worrying a thread as though it would help me understand. “Apparently, Bella, it was not in the slightest a joke.”

“Praetor, what if...this woman you saw is here...to start it...again?"

“I don't know, Bella. She is human…or appears to be.”

“Does that matter?” Bella’s voice was rising. “I mean...she is Nareth. As much as Nareth was. Just...from another world line.” Bella shook her head.

“Worldline?” I asked.

“I should not even say these things,” Bella shrugged, then went on to explain. “Each part of the multiverse, she said, has its own worldline…and timeline, how things may progress. Each timeline is in constant flux, and holds infinite possibility.” Bella sighed. “I've never been much for physics...she talked about this stuff a lot.”

I nodded. “I suspected this to be a possibility.”

“But…what she said....” Bella trailed off, suddenly looking very tired. “Praetor...you are investigating this woman? The…new Nareth?”

“I sent out a request to the Institute,” I sighed. “But I have yet to stir the interest I had hoped.”

Bella took a deep breath. “I had not planned to stay here. I've even written out a letter of resignation, but...I could be of assistance. I know things....”

“Bella, you seem to be the only one who has a fuller understanding of the implications. All of them.”

“And if...if we could get her back, Praetor....” Bella began nodding to herself, her expression a little over eager. “I mean…if we could get Nareth back…we would, wouldn't we?”

“We would. I would. But there is one thing you should know, Bella. The night we sent Aunt Beast back…she left…another aspect of Nareth here.”

Bella looked at me, confused. “Excuse me?”

“I created a golem, Bella. One borne of iron. And it lives. It has…her memories…or at least some of them.”

Bella began nodding very slowly and laughing. “Fuck. Tag...another copy. Unless...Lorne released her soul?”

“Lorne…did not help, Bella.” He had promised to and yet when I called to Him, silence was my only reply.

Bella’s eyes widened. “Then...this golem...it can't truly be Nareth. It was…a trick…Labyrinth....” Bella smiled and covered her mouth.

“But, Bella,” I stammered, “It has . . . it thinks it is . . . Nareth. It went immediately to where she stored her clothing and dressed in Nareth's own clothes.”

“It would...yes,” Bella nodded. “Praetor...I need to rest, and see what I can remember...try to start putting this all together.”

“Yes…yes, alright, Bella,” I replied and watched as she headed up the stairs.

The Marketplace
Deadweight
Satyr