Fealty

It was evening in the Library and I stood quietly on the landing, watching those gathered by the fire. The Lady sat in her accustomed place by the hearth while Denenthorn stood tall and dark by her side. Grrbrool knelt at her feet, firelight shimmering in through his long, red hair. The sight of him in his flesh form never failed to surprise and arrest me. Attie and Redd chatted playfully, whispering into each other’s ears and laughing, while others read or bent towards their work. Dryl seemed dazzled by the gathering, wisping from one small group to another after her fashion. Such companionable gatherings had been common once, but the recent troubles in the City had set everyone on edge.

Grr looked up at me, smiling a human yet distinctly canine grin, and then he called my name, “Spirit Gal”, his true name for me. I smiled back at him, whispering, “Beloved,” but my eyes were drawn from him to Omega, and when my eyes met hers, I lowered my head, afraid to look.

The tension in the Institute had been almost unbearable of late. At the coming of the entity proclaiming to be Cthulhu, many had fled. Nareth had disappeared into a chrysalis in the floor of the laboratory, cocooned beneath some pulsing wet membrane. We’d not known whether she was even alive, and when finally she emerged, she sprang not from the chrysalis but from the sea, proclaiming the true Father Dagon and Mother Hydra. And with that proclamation, a rift had torn fabric of the Institute: Mother Hydra, not Sire Omega.

Grr caught the exchange between the Lady and me, gave me a long glance, and then turned toward Omega. Omega simply stood and began walking in my direction. “Joah?”

“Yes, Lady?”

“I would speak with you.” Omega continued up the stairs to the landing, stopping just in front of me. She extended her hands towards me and began to stroke my arm. “I have been worried for you, M'dear...” I could see Grr rise and follow the Lady with some caution, remaining a few steps behind. “Very worried indeed. We fret for you.”

I nodded, listening, but otherwise stood very still. "Why Lady?"

The taffeta of Omega’s skirts rustled as she turned slightly to look out the window for a moment, considering her words “There are those… who crave freedom. That to whom the idea is restriction is abhorrent.”

“I don’t understand, Lady,” I replied.

“Oh, I think you do,” Omega said, arching one brow slightly, “Because you understand, that there are those… to whom freedom itself is abhorrent.” As Omega spoke, Denenthorn walked wordlessly to stand by her side. He looked down at me, his blue eye leading the purple, gazing impassively in silence.

I frowned and lowered my head again. “Lady... we all serve Your will."

Omega slid her hand down my harm until it gripped my wrist. She leaned in, her lips close to my ear. “There are those… who can only feel free within boundaries gifted to them by another....”

I struggled against the impulse to pull away, my heart beginning to pound as Omega’s hand tightened slightly until I winced in pain.

“If one of that kind, is left neglectfully to roam,” Omega continued, “She will seek bonds, needfully... seek them where she may.”

I began to tremble.

Omega leaned in and whispered, her lips brushing my ear. “I know who is at fault here. I know what has occurred, and why.”

I twisted my head away looking to Grr for help, but though I knew he felt my discomfort, he did nothing. He stood Watching. Dryl hovered, fidgeting nervously. Denenthorn’s face was unreadable. I tried to pull my wrist away from Omega. "I don't know what you mean, Lady," I replied.

Omega grip on my wrist remained firm, but not crushing, and was no longer painful. She lifted her other hand to trace the side of my face with her fingertips. “I ask your forgiveness,” she whispered.

At this, I began to cry. "Your forgiveness? How have You wronged me, Lady?"

“I have neglected you,” Omega replied, “And it has lead you into peril. I would not see you neglected, Joah. I would see you cherished. Not held as thrall, but beloved.”

My tears began to flow freely for Omega had reached the heart of the matter. In the end, what was I to Nareth but her thrall? I had never thought to place myself willingly in such a situation, but Nareth’s lost vulnerability, her attempts to do what was right…I had fallen into compassion for her, all traces of my angry suspicion evaporating the night Pontifex had nearly severed her head from her body. And she had called me lover….

I brushed back tears as Omega took her hand from my wrist, and put her palms together, flat, lifting them up as though holding something. As she lifted, she opened her hands slightly. The shimmering image of an adornment floated between her palms. An adornment worn only by Denenthorn and Grrbrool.

“There is much I could offer you, Joah,” Omega said gently, “Out of our love. Our care for you. GrrBrool, Denenthorn and I… we wish no harm to come to you.” Soft and kind laughter came from Denenthorn’s lips at her words. Grr closed his eyes and looked slightly away, rubbing his face, so none could see.

"I don't deserve this, Lady," I said thickly.

Omega’s hands became fists and dropped to her sides. “You do not deserve peril, Joah. You do not deserve thralldom.”

"But I love her," I said softly.

Omega continued to gaze intently at me, speaking in the merest of whispers... “None loved her more than I.”

“She... disowned You, Lady,” I said sadly, “For another Mother.”

Omega nodded. “Her decision has given me grief I will carry till I am ash… But I would not add to these losses. I would not lose that which it would break me to abandon. You, my sweet Joah, I love more.”

I wept in frustration. "I cannot... Lady... I am... bound," I finally stammered, words choked by the anguish welling within me.

“What is bound can become unbound, if you wish it, Joah.” Omega gave the hint of a smile. “My blood is the stronger.”

My fingers moved distractedly to my waist, fingering by habit the silver chain and flask that were no longer there.

Omega watched the trace of my hand. “And her blood,” she said pointedly, “Is a dilution, merely a dilution....” She looked into my eyes. “Please. Consider my words. I will be waiting for your answer.”

The Lady smiled, and then affectionately reached to brush away a strand of Denenthorn’s hair, before turning and walking away.

But Death Mars All, Which We Cannot Mend

“Larissa...she's gone…I cannot now find her.” Nareth sat gazing at the fire, a study in grief and loss, her back against a chair of Indian reed, her porcelain fingers resting on its wheels beside her. The drawing room of the Library was full; it’s hearth provided some comfort against the raging winter storm.

I rose from Grr’s arms, where he and I had settled, warm fur against flesh, upon one of the large brocade pillows that ringed the fireplace. Rhaven and Kryss read quietly, both pouring over open books in their laps. “She was never really in there, you know,” I said as I drew close and began rubbing Nareth's shoulder. "What's troubling you?"

“I don't know what I know, anymore, Joah. But...Dryl,” Nareth sighed. I could feel her shivering under my touch. Still cold, I thought. “Dryl gave me this blanket, but... I think no one else can see it.” Nareth pulled at something that wasn't there, wrapping it around her.

“The ghost girl?” asked Kryss, looking up from her book. She gazed at Nareth with unblinking, unclosing eyes.

Nareth nodded. “When I saw her...day before yesterday...there were parts of her...simply missing. Parts of Dryl...missing.” Grr listened, stirring slightly by the fire, and giving growls and yips in low tones to a strange lycan pup that had wandered in from the snow.

I began to work my thumbs in small deep circles between Nareth’s shoulder blades, intending to examine her wounds but hoping to touch the invisible covering. “Do you think the blanket is part of her?”

Grr quirked to attention. “Wha’? Wait? Missin’? Spook's got parts missin’?”

“I think it must be, Grr,” Nareth nodded. “She said...she had placed parts of herself into…me...the missing parts.” Nareth shivered again. “And...she made me sleep.” She shook her head, trying to clear it.

Grr looked slowly up at Nareth, his golden eyes unfocusing and looking Within. Grr, the Watcher. “When, yes, when she did,” he replied, “She…she bore your wounds, stigmata. She didn’t feel it, but I saw it in her, I saw you…in her….”

“We need to research her,” Rhaven spoke up. Her tone was harsh, her voice full of irritation. “Y’all don’t understand. She wants us to and what I just heard from y’all, we might be running out of time.”

“Rhaven...no one ever runs out…of time…time always keeps up.” Nareth gave a humorless laugh.

My fingertips moved up Nareth’s spine into the base of her head and then down to the small of her back, still seeking, as she leaned forward allowing access, her lips parting slightly. “Dryl may have placed herself within you, Nareth, to heal your injuries,” I said, remembering the night of Pontifex’s vicious attack. We had worked furiously over Nareth’s prone form as she lay dying in the street. I’d asked Dryl to touch her, to reach in, to try to repair the knife wound that had very nearly severed Nareth’s head from her body.

Kryss turned her head toward Rhaven. “What do you mean... out of time?”

Rhaven didn’t respond, but instead pointed to Grr as if he had proven her point. “You can speak in levels and planes that you know well.” She turned to Nareth, pushing aside philosophies for the time, her sense of urgency overwhelming her. “But I will be heard this time. She wants us to study her, to know her connection to us, to the Library, Herself.”

“Yup, Raven's Song, we have been studyin’ her, but do ya have a better way? Cause if ya do, it'd be welcome, too,” Grr replied diplomatically.

“She is in need...yes,” Nareth murmured. “She is so beautiful. And now…she is…in me.” Nareth look back at me and whispered, “Very small pieces. Quanta.”

I gazed at Nareth for a moment, pausing in my ministrations, before turning to face the dark witch in reply. “Dryl is a convocation of Spirits, Rhaven,” I said, “And while she is connected to the Old Woman in the Walls... she isn't Her.” I opened my hand to use the heel of my palm against Nareth’s hips when suddenly I felt it: a cold, moving blanket of something pulsing as though alive.

“Go deeper, Joah,” Rhaven insisted, her brows furrowing. “Pretty is pretty, but.... There’s more that she wants us to know. We need to look deeper.” Sighing heavily, Rhaven flopped back into her chair, her expression darkening as thick lashes shuttered her eyes.

Grr shook his head, golden fur glinting in the firelight. “Tha Library Spirit, came from elsewhere, tha Other. Dryl, she's made from tha bits and pieces of folks and critters that never made it over tha Wide River from tha Disaster.”

“Rhaven, we will not force anything from Dryl.” Nareth voice dropped an octave or two, becoming more commanding. “Not ever. She is precious.” She shuddered slightly and went back to watching the fire.

“Glad ta hear that sentiment, Nareth-Realmwalker,” Grr said as he refocused his eyes on Nareth-in-the-World. He nodded as if confirming something to himself. “I really bloody am.”

I continued to explore while listening, my fingers drifting to Nareth's sides and swimming through the cold wrapper, until I leaned over her, resting my chin on her shoulder and folded my arms lightly around her waist. She leaned back slightly, savoring my touch.

Rhaven suddenly opened her eyes, snapping her head up to look at Nareth full on and unflinching. “She asked Us to research,” the dark-skinned witch intoned, her voice growing harmonic. “It was her behest and you were there. You heard not what We have said. Listen beyond your own ears.” Rhaven’s eyes began to glow as the voice of Omen overtook her. “You think you speak what We know not?” Rhaven’s black curls shook in negative. “It was Her request and, as such, it should be honored... or We shall take it upon Ourselves.”

Nareth straightened in her chair and blinked, confused at what seemed like a sudden deluge of voices. “You think you could stand against me?” she warned. I unwrapped my arms and stood back.

“You would raise to me?” Rhaven replied in a multitude of layered voices.

Grr flattened his ears. “Godlings…everywhere, godlings,” he muttered.

“You'd be unwise to try that Rhaven,” I frowned, meeting Rhaven’s eyes before returning my focus to Nareth. “Besides...You may not have understood the question that Dryl truly asked.” I moved my hands up Nareth’s arms in deep strokes, then over her shoulders, ‘til my fingertips touched her collarbone. She shifted slightly in her chair, accommodating my examination.

“We do want to study tha Spook,” Grr placated. “But…she ain’t here.”

Rhaven turned her glowing gaze to Grr, her expression softening as her chin lifted proudly. She appeared unmoved in the least by any threat spoken or implied.

“Have all tha looks ya like, Omen,” Grr chided, “But we can’t study what we don’t have in front of us.”

Nareth seemed to drift into a world of her own. “I was in Dryl, and Dryl is in me,” she chanted, laughing again and closing her eyes.

I lowered my lids slightly and dreamed a shimmer of flame, which began to spread from my fingertips, pulsing from gold to pink, then purple and violet. I moved slightly to Nareth’s side, never lifting my touch. As I lay fingertips to breastbone, a comfortable warmth flowed from my hands. My eyes widened as a felt the draw of something familiar, yet something I could not yet discern. “I wonder....” I whispered.

“Ask it of her.” Rhaven responded in soft melody. She expects it. She wishes it. She has much to tell us but wishes us to look.”

I ignored Rhaven; my thoughts were no longer on Dryl. All my focus was on Nareth as she closed her eyes tightly, her shivering easing as warm hands touched cold skin. As she relaxed my palms began to tingle. Then the room seemed to shift, going in and out of phase, as my fingers began to move of their own accord, first hovering lightly upon Nareth’s chest, softy grazing her breast, and seeking her bodice just above her heart.

My whole body gave an involuntary jerk.