I walked the edge of the cliff and stood looking over the sea, a sea unmarred by toxic spillage, though it was not a peaceful shore. Too much had happened in this new land and my heart was turning to stone because of it. Insurrection in the Alpha Institute… petty squabbles among the Praetors and the Legate… a Choi and Constantine who professed to have been ever only angels… it made no sense. Constantine talked of curtains and dreams, killing kitten after kitten in his failed attempts to open a portal to who knows where.
It was all too much, too soon after the flight from the City. I had done much of late that shadowed my heart with regret. I could no longer depend on Nareth, for she was not herself. Whatever remained of Omega’s Chylde lay deep in the belly of a ghost, growing into some unknowable thing. Our attempts to restore her had failed. The moments of her passion had been followed by insufferable anguish for me, and Desdecardo had made it clear: there was no easy freedom from thralldom. I was not unaware of the distrust with which most of the Institute viewed me because of this. Thus, I did the only thing I could… I sought refuge in the Tree of the Garden until all my desire was replaced by life and fire. I felt my wings unfurl. I was thrall no more, but the cost was great.
Now an even greater weariness lay upon my shoulders, a weariness from which I could find no rest. I’d heard the reports from the City, read the letters… Grrbool was dead. A picture drawn in crayon from Brit seemed to say only that Grr and Omega had left the City for a while. Ethan, however, would have sheltered Brit as best he could. The news in the letters though... I couldn't believe the truth of it. Grr and Omega’s bodies had been found in the Great Library. Their remains had been burned and carried away from the City.
Denenthorn hadn’t even wept.
Yet I still hear Grr’s cry to the moon.
He’s not dead.
He can’t be.
Showing posts with label Omega. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Omega. Show all posts
Tuesday, April 21, 2009
Sunday, April 12, 2009
The Inventory of Goodbye
The streets of the City were nearly empty. I’d walked up and down Luxuria and Superbia, but had seen only a few individuals. Here and there, someone stood alone on a corner or in the shadow of an alley. It had all happened so suddenly. The Tyrant had come and most of the Institute had fled. Tonks, Pens… Redd and Attie… all gone. Choi had taken Nareth… or rather Dana… out of the City, along with Constantine, to a land reputed to be even more violent than the City itself. I sighed, filled with sadness and remorse; I felt I should have been able to do something to avert it all, but there was nothing I could do. Even the Lady had failed. I stood gazing one last time into the flames of the Library hearth, then headed quietly to my room at the top of the stairs. As I slowly opened the door, I gazed at what had been my home for well over a year: the small narrow bed, the wooden writing table, the hi-backed chair… all worn and meager furnishings, but well loved. I neared the bed, took off my armband and lay it flat on the coverlet, tracing my finger along the Omegan insignia for a moment and thinking of the many remaining I yet held dear. Still… I had to follow her. There really was no choice for me. I turned, left the room, and closed the door behind me.
I have a pack of letters,
I have a pack of memories.
I could cut out the eyes of both.
I could wear them like a patchwork apron.
I could stick them in the washer, the drier,
and maybe some of the pain would float off like dirt?
Perhaps down the disposal I could grind up the loss.
Besides -- what a bargain -- no expensive phone calls.
No lengthy trips on planes in the fog.
No manicky laughter or blessing from an odd-lot priest.
That priest is probably still floating on a fog pillow.
Blessing us. Blessing us.
Am I to bless the lost you,
sitting here with my clumsy soul?
Propaganda time is over.
I sit here on the spike of truth.
No one to hate except the slim fish of memory
that slides in and out of my brain.
No one to hate except the acute feel of my nightgown
brushing my body like a light that has gone out.
It recalls the kiss we invented, tongues like poems,
meeting, returning, inviting, causing a fever of need.
Laughter, maps, cassettes, touch singing its path -
all to be broken and laid away in a tight strongbox.
The monotonous dead clog me up and there is only
black done in black that oozes from the strongbox.
I must disembowel it and then set the heart, the legs,
of two who were one upon a large woodpile
and ignite, as I was once ignited, and let it whirl
into flame, reaching the sky
making it dangerous with its red.
-Anne Sexton
I have a pack of letters,
I have a pack of memories.
I could cut out the eyes of both.
I could wear them like a patchwork apron.
I could stick them in the washer, the drier,
and maybe some of the pain would float off like dirt?
Perhaps down the disposal I could grind up the loss.
Besides -- what a bargain -- no expensive phone calls.
No lengthy trips on planes in the fog.
No manicky laughter or blessing from an odd-lot priest.
That priest is probably still floating on a fog pillow.
Blessing us. Blessing us.
Am I to bless the lost you,
sitting here with my clumsy soul?
Propaganda time is over.
I sit here on the spike of truth.
No one to hate except the slim fish of memory
that slides in and out of my brain.
No one to hate except the acute feel of my nightgown
brushing my body like a light that has gone out.
It recalls the kiss we invented, tongues like poems,
meeting, returning, inviting, causing a fever of need.
Laughter, maps, cassettes, touch singing its path -
all to be broken and laid away in a tight strongbox.
The monotonous dead clog me up and there is only
black done in black that oozes from the strongbox.
I must disembowel it and then set the heart, the legs,
of two who were one upon a large woodpile
and ignite, as I was once ignited, and let it whirl
into flame, reaching the sky
making it dangerous with its red.
-Anne Sexton
Thursday, March 26, 2009
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.
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.
Abjuration
Dear Joah,
My situation with the Omega Institute has become untenable. Indeed, I now have the clarity to see that it was my great mistake returning to the OI, that day you found me at the hospital. Effective, immediately, I am tendering my resignation with the OI. I can no longer believe in, nor serve, nor defend, an organization that is so riddled with corruption and deceit.
I am whole, and I see this now.
I am whole, and I hereby renounce all ties to my Sire. No longer will I be known as the blood Chylde of Omega. I now serve another mistress, an infinitely greater being, and one who is not fickle and who took the time to properly mentor me. And, though not affectionate, Mother Hydra is just. I am reborn, from the benthic chrysalis that lay so long in the library basement. Never again will Omega punish me for her failings as my blood mother.
I am now whole. Sariel's seed has bloomed, during my time in the halls of Y'ha-rthyneil. The Watchmaker has no hold on me. I will never again serve as a portal.
As you are now bound to me, and as I depend upon you for sustenance, you know that I need you with me. However, I am granting you the ability to make that decision for yourself. I have been forced down too many paths to now force you.
I have taken with me certain files, and deleted the electronic copies of those files, specifically all those pertaining to OI Case No. 80501 and to the matter of the false priests recently masquerading as servents of "Dagon." This is my concern, and nothing for the OI to worry itself with. Morever, I have managed to wrest from the Old Woman that shard of identity she recently stole from me while I assisted in the healing of the incubus. The Countess Báthory Erzsébet is once again within me. A shame about the damage to the library, but it's nothing a good carpenter can't fix. However, I have left the Old Woman hungry.
Praetor, I will now entrust this letter to your capable hands. You will know how to reach me, should you wish.
N
My situation with the Omega Institute has become untenable. Indeed, I now have the clarity to see that it was my great mistake returning to the OI, that day you found me at the hospital. Effective, immediately, I am tendering my resignation with the OI. I can no longer believe in, nor serve, nor defend, an organization that is so riddled with corruption and deceit.
I am whole, and I see this now.
I am whole, and I hereby renounce all ties to my Sire. No longer will I be known as the blood Chylde of Omega. I now serve another mistress, an infinitely greater being, and one who is not fickle and who took the time to properly mentor me. And, though not affectionate, Mother Hydra is just. I am reborn, from the benthic chrysalis that lay so long in the library basement. Never again will Omega punish me for her failings as my blood mother.
I am now whole. Sariel's seed has bloomed, during my time in the halls of Y'ha-rthyneil. The Watchmaker has no hold on me. I will never again serve as a portal.
As you are now bound to me, and as I depend upon you for sustenance, you know that I need you with me. However, I am granting you the ability to make that decision for yourself. I have been forced down too many paths to now force you.
I have taken with me certain files, and deleted the electronic copies of those files, specifically all those pertaining to OI Case No. 80501 and to the matter of the false priests recently masquerading as servents of "Dagon." This is my concern, and nothing for the OI to worry itself with. Morever, I have managed to wrest from the Old Woman that shard of identity she recently stole from me while I assisted in the healing of the incubus. The Countess Báthory Erzsébet is once again within me. A shame about the damage to the library, but it's nothing a good carpenter can't fix. However, I have left the Old Woman hungry.
Praetor, I will now entrust this letter to your capable hands. You will know how to reach me, should you wish.
N
Tuesday, January 20, 2009
Þe quene þat by þe stod, of loue teres heo weop a flod
Nareth had been standing in the open entryway to the Hospital when Severus and I had found her alone and looking out into the street with a disoriented frown. “I’ve only been gone an hour,” she said over and over again. “It wasn’t snowing….” She began questioning me as though she’d seen me scarce moments before. My shock at seeing her alive, as it were, made little impression in the swirl of confusion that surrounded her.
She’d wanted to return to the Library. Severus and I had walked with her, matching each long stride as her boots crunched through the ice in the frozen streets. She didn’t seem to know Severus. She didn’t seem to know about the changes in the City. And as we walked, she shivered. Nareth was… cold. “Impossible,” I thought to myself, “The undead don’t feel the sting of winter…. “
As we made our way the Library Nareth hesitated, surprised by the large Christmas wreath hanging on the Library’s door. After a moment, she entered and headed directly to the drawing room hearth. She fell straightaway into the armchair to the right of the fire. The myriad conversations surrounding us fell silent, as one by one eyes turned to Nareth, not believing what they were seeing. She was trembling. I’d never seen her tremble; she seemed almost vulnerable. But this couldn’t be, I kept telling myself.
“I was going to the Pit. I didn't go to the Pit.”
“You summoned Labyrinth, Nareth. You went.
“No….”
But she had gone, had been destroyed there, carved into pieces by Pontifex and fed to the Shadows by Lorne in her bid to summon Labyrinth. She didn’t believe it or wouldn’t. And frankly, I didn’t know what to make of this Nareth who was confounded, shaking and near tears. She wasn’t the brutal Nareth I’d known, nor was she the Golem or the small, Vietnamese thief tossed by the sea upon the City’s shore during a late-night torrential downpour.
Nareth murmured, “Something has gone very wrong, I think.”
“Yes, very wrong,” Pontifex replied. “What if the others come back too? We both went to the pit, only I came back.... “
An icy voice. “What is the meaning of this?”
And the Lady had been shocked. Angered. Then…if not accepting… somehow resolved. Lorne had prompted, “Look into her soul, Omega. If she still has it within her, that is one thing, and the nature of a soul to show what it is quite another.” The Lady couldn’t look. But Grrbrool could.
“Realmwalker,” he said, “Not tha Huntress.”
She went to the Pit; she didn’t go. She died there; she lived.
Nareth; not Nareth.
I just don’t know.
Nareth Returns
She’d wanted to return to the Library. Severus and I had walked with her, matching each long stride as her boots crunched through the ice in the frozen streets. She didn’t seem to know Severus. She didn’t seem to know about the changes in the City. And as we walked, she shivered. Nareth was… cold. “Impossible,” I thought to myself, “The undead don’t feel the sting of winter…. “
As we made our way the Library Nareth hesitated, surprised by the large Christmas wreath hanging on the Library’s door. After a moment, she entered and headed directly to the drawing room hearth. She fell straightaway into the armchair to the right of the fire. The myriad conversations surrounding us fell silent, as one by one eyes turned to Nareth, not believing what they were seeing. She was trembling. I’d never seen her tremble; she seemed almost vulnerable. But this couldn’t be, I kept telling myself.
“I was going to the Pit. I didn't go to the Pit.”
“You summoned Labyrinth, Nareth. You went.
“No….”
But she had gone, had been destroyed there, carved into pieces by Pontifex and fed to the Shadows by Lorne in her bid to summon Labyrinth. She didn’t believe it or wouldn’t. And frankly, I didn’t know what to make of this Nareth who was confounded, shaking and near tears. She wasn’t the brutal Nareth I’d known, nor was she the Golem or the small, Vietnamese thief tossed by the sea upon the City’s shore during a late-night torrential downpour.
Nareth murmured, “Something has gone very wrong, I think.”
“Yes, very wrong,” Pontifex replied. “What if the others come back too? We both went to the pit, only I came back.... “
An icy voice. “What is the meaning of this?”
And the Lady had been shocked. Angered. Then…if not accepting… somehow resolved. Lorne had prompted, “Look into her soul, Omega. If she still has it within her, that is one thing, and the nature of a soul to show what it is quite another.” The Lady couldn’t look. But Grrbrool could.
“Realmwalker,” he said, “Not tha Huntress.”
She went to the Pit; she didn’t go. She died there; she lived.
Nareth; not Nareth.
I just don’t know.
Nareth Returns
Saturday, December 13, 2008
From Here On
Joah sits quietly in her small room at the top of the stairs, contemplating the moon, as she so often does. Tonight, the moon is full, two weeks ‘til the new moon, two weeks ‘til GrrBrool shifts to his near-human form. She wants badly to bring him back to her before then, to heal the broken creature that walks like a ghost through her days. Her sense of guilt overwhelms her, knowing that it was her own vulnerability and longing for the void that opened the door within her to Pestilence. Had it not been for Lorne…for the bit of the Garden…
So long ago, the Garden, she thinks.
But while she’d been a vessel of conflict and longing, Omega had been seduced by Her own desires for power and had opened Herself willingly. Joah’s earlier quiet accusation had hung in the air; Omega had failed to protect Her House, had, in fact, been the breaking stone that had shattered Grrbrool’s will and crushed his spirit.
“I thought…I could best it, Joah....” Omega had said quietly, the memory of War still tracing a shadow on her smooth face. “I thought...the power…I thought I could use it, to advantage. There were factors…I did not consider.”
Factors like the twist in Denenthorn, like Severus’s injuries, the problem of Del, the Harbinger…and a crew of loyal but inexperienced Omegans: Rhaven, Zoe, Wire, Blake. Still in all, Faye’Li had remained constant, seeking help of the Coven, leading the Institute to safety in a time of turmoil when its leaders had fallen.
Joah shifts as she gazes, wrapping her quilt around her and looking to the moon as if it could answer the questions in her heart. In the end, she remembers Lorne kneeling beside her as blood soaked through her stockings and her dress, pooling on the floor. Though a bitter frown clouded His face, He still gave His hand to Denenthorn, His strength to Rhaven, while Meng Po had joined in, whispering, “Pestilence has nearly stolen everything from her.” Joah had opened herself to their healing, the bright, warm touch of Denenthorn’s hand on her forehead, the feeling of rushing back into herself as energy from the four poured into her. So much life…so much loss.
“What is past... is past,” Omega had said. “We must not mire ourselves in regret. This experience has taught us…much about ourselves. Let it be worth the price we have paid for such knowledge.”
Joah looks at the moon.
I and the public know
What all schoolchildren learn,
Those to whom evil is done
Do evil in return.
September 1, 1939
W.H. Auden
So long ago, the Garden, she thinks.
But while she’d been a vessel of conflict and longing, Omega had been seduced by Her own desires for power and had opened Herself willingly. Joah’s earlier quiet accusation had hung in the air; Omega had failed to protect Her House, had, in fact, been the breaking stone that had shattered Grrbrool’s will and crushed his spirit.
“I thought…I could best it, Joah....” Omega had said quietly, the memory of War still tracing a shadow on her smooth face. “I thought...the power…I thought I could use it, to advantage. There were factors…I did not consider.”
Factors like the twist in Denenthorn, like Severus’s injuries, the problem of Del, the Harbinger…and a crew of loyal but inexperienced Omegans: Rhaven, Zoe, Wire, Blake. Still in all, Faye’Li had remained constant, seeking help of the Coven, leading the Institute to safety in a time of turmoil when its leaders had fallen.
Joah shifts as she gazes, wrapping her quilt around her and looking to the moon as if it could answer the questions in her heart. In the end, she remembers Lorne kneeling beside her as blood soaked through her stockings and her dress, pooling on the floor. Though a bitter frown clouded His face, He still gave His hand to Denenthorn, His strength to Rhaven, while Meng Po had joined in, whispering, “Pestilence has nearly stolen everything from her.” Joah had opened herself to their healing, the bright, warm touch of Denenthorn’s hand on her forehead, the feeling of rushing back into herself as energy from the four poured into her. So much life…so much loss.
“What is past... is past,” Omega had said. “We must not mire ourselves in regret. This experience has taught us…much about ourselves. Let it be worth the price we have paid for such knowledge.”
Joah looks at the moon.
I and the public know
What all schoolchildren learn,
Those to whom evil is done
Do evil in return.
September 1, 1939
W.H. Auden
Saturday, November 8, 2008
The Anger of the Lady
It was comfortable and warm in the sitting room for the Library. I leaned close to Grr, stroking the fur at the base of his tail. He had taken off his back to lean against me; his lycan warmth of the scent of his fur felt like home to me. Rhaven Twine, one of the newer Omegans had been talking with Starwalker, their conversation a gentle background mixed with the popping and hissing of the logs in the hearth. I felt a soothing murring from his chest as Grr pressed in close.
The easy conversation was interrupted with the sound of glass shattering in the street. Rhaven turned toward the window. “I wonder when I’ll get used to the not-silence of this place,” she sighed.
“If you get used to it and don’t react, good chance your dead,” Starwalker grinned.
GrrBrool nodded, “Err, well, we don’t got a lot of law here, one reason it was a good place ta run to fer a lot of us.”
“It’s the end of the road for many,” I agreed.
Rhaven offered a soft shrug, “It’s just a matter of getting used to it, I imagine.”
I began stroking Grr’s back, my fingers lingering in the fur at his neck. “I’m worried about Brit. Has anyone seen her?”
Grr shook his head. “Hmm, no, truth be told, I ain’t seen Strong Gal save when Snappypants is with her.”
Starwalker frowned, hearing about Brit’s absence. “She wasn’t around to see how things went with the training sessions at the beach yesterday?”
“Not during the day…no,” I sighed. “Never during the day.”
Grr suddenly stood and bowed. I looked up to see the Lady Omega. She looked around, smiling a greeting to everyone. “How do we find ourselves this evening?” she asked.
“Yer Ladyship,” Grr began, “We were just wonderin, no one’s seen Strong Gal recently…last few days….”
Omega frowned. “No, she has not been seen.”
I turned to Omega. “Lady, I’m…worried.”
“I believe Ethan may be restricting her movements.” Omega settled in her customary chair by the fireplace. “I will be…investigating the matter.”
“Lady, I tried to speak with Ethan about…locking her in during the day.” I said this with not a little worry, for Omega had forbidden me to speak of the matter to Ethan. But when he had been in the Library, and Brit had been there, I had hoped that by drawing out I story I could help him see. “He was not…receptive, Omega.” I sighed. “I’ve told her Father. He is…most displeased.”
Grr nodded his head listening. “Err, yer Ladyship, I was wonderin if maybe I could give her some instructin.” Grr had been researching historical fighting techniques used by women, rapier and escrima…when women wearing bustles and hoop skirts had been trained to defend themselves. Grr thought that a “ladylike” method of self-defense might appeal to Ethan.
Omega barely moved her head, yet her eyes bored into mine. “I asked you to leave this to me, Joah, did I not? Yet you saw fit to question him on the matter. Now we see the results.”
I felt Grr’s back stiffen beside me. I lowered my head. “I’m sorry, Lady…but . . . he was here with her, and ….”
She cut me off. “Yes. Tempting. I know.” Rhaven lowered her gaze at the turn of the conversation, pretending to study a snag in her tights. Omega continued, “I am not accustomed to being disobeyed.” I rose from my seat, went before the Lady and knelt at her feet, my head low.
Grr cleared his throat. “Err, is she in any danger, ya think?”
“She is as safe as she may be, I suspect,” Omega replied to Grr. She then leaned over, whispering to me. “Joah…do you remember, what I did to my lamb, my Nareth, when she lied to me?” A shiver of dread shot through me. “She bore the scars of it for the rest of her existence….” Omega reached out, stroking my face with tenderness. Grr’s ears flattened.
I replied quietly. “Yes, Lady…I do.” I glanced over at the fire, remembering how Omega had plunged Nareth’s hand into the flames. “Please forgive me, Lady….”
Omega ran her finger along my jaw line, lifting my chin. She whispered, “And what must I do to you, to make you obey? Brit is paying the price for your disobedience now.” Though her tone was gentle, the threat behind her words was clear. My heart pounded in my chest, involuntarily causing the flames in the hearth hiss and spark. Rhaven and Starwalker said not a word.
I tried again. “But Lady, it wasn’t me…Ethan…he’s…there’s something wrong with him.” I stammered at a loss for words.
“His actions would not have garnered comment a few short years ago,” Omega said dismissively. I was reminded once again that she is not as I am. She is an ancient predator with a long and bloody history.
Grr shook his head with slight disagreement, his fur ruffling. “Protective of his mate, even past reason….”
“Past reason,” I agreed. I heard Rago come into the Library and attempt a greeting, but I didn’t turn away from Omega.
“Joah, he is unaccustomed to being questioned…especially in a matter he feels he has absolute dominion. It required a gentle touch, from one he considers an equal.” Omega had begun to speak very softly; now even her tone was not gentle.
“But…it’s wrong, Omega,” I pleaded. “Even if it’s done for love’s sake . . . it’s wrong,” I whispered. “And Brit is my friend….”
Grr looked over Rago. “Err…long time….we’re just…err, have a seat, mate,” he finally said, gesturing Rago to the sitting area.
Omega didn’t look around at Rago. She remained focused on me. “Which is why, Joah, I asked you quite directly to leave it to me.” Anger flashed across her face. “Well, you now have ample time to contemplate the fruits of your labor. Think on Brit, and her present state, next time you feel it’s wise to disobey me.”
I tried to turn away from her, but couldn’t. She had locked me in her gaze. “I had thought to go to their rooms, Omega.” I spoke barely above a whisper, but my own anger was rising, my words defiant.
“Yes, Joah,” Omega said with a voice full of derision. “Encourage Ethan to take her further away, beyond our reach, to where we know not. Excellent idea. Go bang on the door and harangue Ethan some more while you’re there…”
My eyes grew dark. “He’s making her thinking that he is the world, Omega. And he’s not.” A log fell from the fireplace with a loud pop and a shower of sparks.
Omega gave me a long look. “Well, I could appeal to your sense of reason…I could ask you simply to obey me. It seems you are interested in neither.” She stood abruptly, walking past me up the stairs toward Rago, greeting him as if nothing had happened. I continued kneeling in front of Omega’s chair, my head lowered, studying the carpet and saying nothing.
I felt Grr reach out to me, grabbing the shoulder of my jacket, hooking fingers and thumb through the seam, and pulling me slowly, but surely close. I darted a quick look at him, overwhelmed with confusion and dread at having displeased the Lady. Omega walked back toward us and stood over us, looking down at us.
“Joah, do you know what the road to hell is paved with?”
I nodded. “I’ve heard it said.”
Omega studied me in silence for a moment. “I do not doubt your motives, but I do not give instructions simply because I like the sound of my own voice.” The flame in the hearth began to lick up uncontrollably, spilling out over the hearth. I stiffened and sat quite still, nodding at the Lady’s words, though ever fiber of my being was alert.
“Operational protocols,” Grr murmured. “Understandin ain’t always required, in order ta act, when ya can’t see tha whole battleground….”
Omega continued. “Had I the opportunity to speak to Ethan, unimpeded...Brit might even now be enjoying the warmth of the fire with us. This matter will be concluded when Brit is returned to us, Joah. When we see what she has endured, then we will think upon a suitable punishment for you.”
I started to open my mouth to speak, then shut it realizing that there was nothing I could say.
“In the meantime,” Omega said, “We shall make her a care package…such as one might give to a prisoner. It will have some of her belongings. Things to eat. Letters from us. It must be given to Ethan.”
“May I take it to him, Lady?” I asked quietly.
Omega’s reply was cool. “I’m not sure you can be trusted with such an errand, Joah. Could you hand it over, graciously? Or must you continue to wield your barbed tongue, making the situation worse?”
I glanced over at Grr, hoping for reassurance, but there was a peculiar expression on his face. He had dug out his battered camo notebook and begun to draw.
“I promise, Lady, that I will say as little as possibly can be said.” I stood and walked to my room, looking for writing paper of my own.
Read Grr's perspective.
The easy conversation was interrupted with the sound of glass shattering in the street. Rhaven turned toward the window. “I wonder when I’ll get used to the not-silence of this place,” she sighed.
“If you get used to it and don’t react, good chance your dead,” Starwalker grinned.
GrrBrool nodded, “Err, well, we don’t got a lot of law here, one reason it was a good place ta run to fer a lot of us.”
“It’s the end of the road for many,” I agreed.
Rhaven offered a soft shrug, “It’s just a matter of getting used to it, I imagine.”
I began stroking Grr’s back, my fingers lingering in the fur at his neck. “I’m worried about Brit. Has anyone seen her?”
Grr shook his head. “Hmm, no, truth be told, I ain’t seen Strong Gal save when Snappypants is with her.”
Starwalker frowned, hearing about Brit’s absence. “She wasn’t around to see how things went with the training sessions at the beach yesterday?”
“Not during the day…no,” I sighed. “Never during the day.”
Grr suddenly stood and bowed. I looked up to see the Lady Omega. She looked around, smiling a greeting to everyone. “How do we find ourselves this evening?” she asked.
“Yer Ladyship,” Grr began, “We were just wonderin, no one’s seen Strong Gal recently…last few days….”
Omega frowned. “No, she has not been seen.”
I turned to Omega. “Lady, I’m…worried.”
“I believe Ethan may be restricting her movements.” Omega settled in her customary chair by the fireplace. “I will be…investigating the matter.”
“Lady, I tried to speak with Ethan about…locking her in during the day.” I said this with not a little worry, for Omega had forbidden me to speak of the matter to Ethan. But when he had been in the Library, and Brit had been there, I had hoped that by drawing out I story I could help him see. “He was not…receptive, Omega.” I sighed. “I’ve told her Father. He is…most displeased.”
Grr nodded his head listening. “Err, yer Ladyship, I was wonderin if maybe I could give her some instructin.” Grr had been researching historical fighting techniques used by women, rapier and escrima…when women wearing bustles and hoop skirts had been trained to defend themselves. Grr thought that a “ladylike” method of self-defense might appeal to Ethan.
Omega barely moved her head, yet her eyes bored into mine. “I asked you to leave this to me, Joah, did I not? Yet you saw fit to question him on the matter. Now we see the results.”
I felt Grr’s back stiffen beside me. I lowered my head. “I’m sorry, Lady…but . . . he was here with her, and ….”
She cut me off. “Yes. Tempting. I know.” Rhaven lowered her gaze at the turn of the conversation, pretending to study a snag in her tights. Omega continued, “I am not accustomed to being disobeyed.” I rose from my seat, went before the Lady and knelt at her feet, my head low.
Grr cleared his throat. “Err, is she in any danger, ya think?”
“She is as safe as she may be, I suspect,” Omega replied to Grr. She then leaned over, whispering to me. “Joah…do you remember, what I did to my lamb, my Nareth, when she lied to me?” A shiver of dread shot through me. “She bore the scars of it for the rest of her existence….” Omega reached out, stroking my face with tenderness. Grr’s ears flattened.
I replied quietly. “Yes, Lady…I do.” I glanced over at the fire, remembering how Omega had plunged Nareth’s hand into the flames. “Please forgive me, Lady….”
Omega ran her finger along my jaw line, lifting my chin. She whispered, “And what must I do to you, to make you obey? Brit is paying the price for your disobedience now.” Though her tone was gentle, the threat behind her words was clear. My heart pounded in my chest, involuntarily causing the flames in the hearth hiss and spark. Rhaven and Starwalker said not a word.
I tried again. “But Lady, it wasn’t me…Ethan…he’s…there’s something wrong with him.” I stammered at a loss for words.
“His actions would not have garnered comment a few short years ago,” Omega said dismissively. I was reminded once again that she is not as I am. She is an ancient predator with a long and bloody history.
Grr shook his head with slight disagreement, his fur ruffling. “Protective of his mate, even past reason….”
“Past reason,” I agreed. I heard Rago come into the Library and attempt a greeting, but I didn’t turn away from Omega.
“Joah, he is unaccustomed to being questioned…especially in a matter he feels he has absolute dominion. It required a gentle touch, from one he considers an equal.” Omega had begun to speak very softly; now even her tone was not gentle.
“But…it’s wrong, Omega,” I pleaded. “Even if it’s done for love’s sake . . . it’s wrong,” I whispered. “And Brit is my friend….”
Grr looked over Rago. “Err…long time….we’re just…err, have a seat, mate,” he finally said, gesturing Rago to the sitting area.
Omega didn’t look around at Rago. She remained focused on me. “Which is why, Joah, I asked you quite directly to leave it to me.” Anger flashed across her face. “Well, you now have ample time to contemplate the fruits of your labor. Think on Brit, and her present state, next time you feel it’s wise to disobey me.”
I tried to turn away from her, but couldn’t. She had locked me in her gaze. “I had thought to go to their rooms, Omega.” I spoke barely above a whisper, but my own anger was rising, my words defiant.
“Yes, Joah,” Omega said with a voice full of derision. “Encourage Ethan to take her further away, beyond our reach, to where we know not. Excellent idea. Go bang on the door and harangue Ethan some more while you’re there…”
My eyes grew dark. “He’s making her thinking that he is the world, Omega. And he’s not.” A log fell from the fireplace with a loud pop and a shower of sparks.
Omega gave me a long look. “Well, I could appeal to your sense of reason…I could ask you simply to obey me. It seems you are interested in neither.” She stood abruptly, walking past me up the stairs toward Rago, greeting him as if nothing had happened. I continued kneeling in front of Omega’s chair, my head lowered, studying the carpet and saying nothing.
I felt Grr reach out to me, grabbing the shoulder of my jacket, hooking fingers and thumb through the seam, and pulling me slowly, but surely close. I darted a quick look at him, overwhelmed with confusion and dread at having displeased the Lady. Omega walked back toward us and stood over us, looking down at us.
“Joah, do you know what the road to hell is paved with?”
I nodded. “I’ve heard it said.”
Omega studied me in silence for a moment. “I do not doubt your motives, but I do not give instructions simply because I like the sound of my own voice.” The flame in the hearth began to lick up uncontrollably, spilling out over the hearth. I stiffened and sat quite still, nodding at the Lady’s words, though ever fiber of my being was alert.
“Operational protocols,” Grr murmured. “Understandin ain’t always required, in order ta act, when ya can’t see tha whole battleground….”
Omega continued. “Had I the opportunity to speak to Ethan, unimpeded...Brit might even now be enjoying the warmth of the fire with us. This matter will be concluded when Brit is returned to us, Joah. When we see what she has endured, then we will think upon a suitable punishment for you.”
I started to open my mouth to speak, then shut it realizing that there was nothing I could say.
“In the meantime,” Omega said, “We shall make her a care package…such as one might give to a prisoner. It will have some of her belongings. Things to eat. Letters from us. It must be given to Ethan.”
“May I take it to him, Lady?” I asked quietly.
Omega’s reply was cool. “I’m not sure you can be trusted with such an errand, Joah. Could you hand it over, graciously? Or must you continue to wield your barbed tongue, making the situation worse?”
I glanced over at Grr, hoping for reassurance, but there was a peculiar expression on his face. He had dug out his battered camo notebook and begun to draw.
“I promise, Lady, that I will say as little as possibly can be said.” I stood and walked to my room, looking for writing paper of my own.
Read Grr's perspective.
Sunday, October 19, 2008
To Resist His Charms
“Lorne, may I ask You a question?” I spoke with hesitance. He raised His eyebrows to me attentively, and I continued. “How does one resist an incubus?”
Lorne gave a nod, letting out a slow breath as He stood more comfortably. “Old, old magic. If you ask for help, and you make a sacrifice, there is a great deal I can do for you.” He paused as a portal opened, and with a rush of cold air, Severus appeared. Lorne continued, gesticulating toward Severus as if presenting, “You don't want this? Sacrifice your taste for it to Me.”
Glancing at Lorne with supreme distaste, Severus gestured dismissively with one large pale-clawed hand. “Whatever it is...I think not,” he drawled with his usual sarcasm.
I watched Severus carefully for a moment, then stepped closer to Grr, laying a hand on his arm. Grr looked up at Severus. “G'day Maker. Water botherin ya?”
Severus shrugged his broad shoulders slightly. “No worse than it did millennia ago….”
Lorne caught my eye and waved off Severus' response. “There, there, big guy, I know you don't like Me. Of course, I wasn't speaking to you, so the point is moot.”
“Don’t think yourself special,” Severus snorted. “I don’t like anyone.”
Lorne grinned. “Not even yourself. Yes, we know.”
“Nothing like a master of the obvious, Lorne,” Severus muttered dryly.
I glanced from Severus to Lorne and back, watching both demons warily, awaiting Lorne’s response when it dawned on me that He’d already answered. My eyes widened with understanding. It barely registered to me that Omega and come into the Library, I was so focused on the matter at hand. I bit my lip and met Lorne's gaze.
Lorne looked back at me, grinning. “To fight hellfire with hellfire. The irony itself is something to be appreciated. Granted, I never have resided in hell, nor in fire of that name, but let's just leave that pass, shall we?”
With bluster and the sound of wet boots on stone, Denenthorn swept into the Library. “Hullo Lorne, Sev, My Sweet, Coyote, Lady Grace....” Denenthorn has taken to calling me that. Lady Grace. He yawned loudly. “What's up?”
“I’ve no idea, just got here,” Severus muttered, giving me a pointed look.
“Water levels, fer one,” Grr replied, “And tha zombies….”
Denenthorn shrugged, “I've fought it all before, bring it on,” he replied lazily.
“Lorne,” Omega said with mild sarcasm, “Such a pleasure to see you again. Have you bought cake?”
Lorne did not reply to the Lady and let others field Denenthorn’s question. He raised His eyebrows expectantly to me, holding a hand out as if to prompt. “It starts simply, really. You needn't even say it out loud...I want....”
I looked steadily at Lorne, shifting slightly in His direction. I took a deep breath and nodded my head. “Yes.”
Grr immediately alerted, looking from me to Lorne and back, then from me to Severus and to Omega, and back to me. “What are ya askin?” he spoke with alarm.
Lorne said nothing, but held my eyes. As I nodded, His hand closed abruptly, and He looked down to it. Opening His palm, a rather corroded looking coin, crude and uneven, lay there in His palm. He took it, and slipped it into His breast pocket, patting it as He looked to Omega, finally answering her question. “I'm afraid I don't deal or gift in lies, Omega. I had a gift, but it's already been given.”
I shook my head as if waking up when the coin appeared in Lorne's hand. I felt…different. I looked at Him again and smiled, murmuring, “Thank you.”
Grr opened his mouth at the sight of the coin and looked at me, still open-mouthed. “Coins…Spirit Gal, what did you do?”
Lorne gazed at me. “Not at’all. If it oils its nude body in front of you, and starts humping your leg, as if it would, you will feel not the mildest tingle.”
Omega turned toward me with a raised brow. I started to speak but was taken aback by the stricken look on Grr’s face.
“I…I….I have ta go,” he said in a rush of words, bounding out into the water of the flooded first floor, sloshing in the direction of the Hotel. Omega sighed, watching his retreat. I stared after him as he bolted away, full of concern and not understanding what had happened.
Severus blinked at Grr's disappearance and then glanced back to me. “Joah...so I repeat...what’s all this then?” he muttered irritably.
“Would you like me to show you?” I asked, turning toward Severus.
“Probably not,” he replied tersely, “But you can go ahead and spit it out.”
In answer, I simply began walking slowly toward Severus as he gave a heavy sigh and glowered down at me. He watched me warily, his towering frame taught, as if ready to spring away from my touch. I stopped, full of uncertainty. I looked from Severus to Lorne, hesitating.
“No cause to worry, Joah,” Lorne said quietly. “I have it all right here.” He patted his pocket.
I nodded to Lorne, then stepped very close to Severus and placed my hand in the sigil on his thigh. Severus scowled blackly as my hand passed through his ward to touch him. “What the bloody hell are you on about?” he said with anger, taking a step backward.
I said nothing, but stepped closer again, pulling off one of my HazMat gloves and placing my bare hand on Severus' chest. Lorne raised His brows expectantly, turning His head slightly to the side. “Anything?” he asked.
“No…nothing,” I replied with a smile. “Not a tingle.”
“What the fuck did I just miss?” Denenthorn blinked.
Omega whirled around, “Joah? What have you done?”
Severus glared icily as I touched him again. I knew that the reflex of his skin would send a torrent of pure lust to course through me, yet there I stood: unaffected. Severus tensed, his pale body growing taut as he drew in a sharp breath through fangs. “What the hell did you do?”
Lorne nodded, smiling. “Excellent.”
“I sacrificed something, Severus,” I said quietly, my hand remaining on his chest. There was nothing, just as Lorne had promised. Not a tingle.
Denenthorn looked on rather confused “Can someone tell me what in the world is going on?”
Severus narrowed his piercing pale eyes sharply at me, brushing my hand aside. “So now, not only do you have no soul but no desire? Of all the utter bloody stupid....” He ground out between clenched fangs: “Why?”
Lorne gestured towards Severus, and then to me. “I believe she may be getting to the exposition right now.”
“I still have desire, Severus,” I replied. “But I won't be left in the Dreaming again by you.” Denenthorn studied me a confused, concerned expression on his face.
“Lorne has, it seems…given Joah a charm against…well, Severus' charms,” Omega said coolly. “Am I correct?”
I shook my head. “Not a charm, Omega. He holds in His hand…my desire for Severus.”
Lorne looked over to Omega, reaching for His pocket as He gazed at me. “Well, in My pocket, but close enough.”
Omega gave me a long look. “Joah, why would you give him such a thing? Have you learned nothing from us…from Nareth?” Nareth had gone willingly to Lorne, trying to summon…something. In the process, Lorne had slain Nareth, feeding her in bits to the Shadows…keeping only her heart.
I turned toward Omega, watching her carefully, but saying nothing.
Lorne pulled out the coin from his pocket, looking down to it, then up again to Omega. “Do explain that to Severus, won't you?”
Severus continued glaring at me. “I certainly dont scent her,” he said as if I were no longer in the room. “You did all this just because of that...I repeat, utterly absurd....” he trailed off with a dark scowl.
“It is hard to feel pity for a lamb that will not stop straying into the abattoir, Joah,” said Omega with more than a trace of anger in her voice.
Denenthorn appeared deep in thought. With a small frown on his face, all he said was, “I see....”
“Lorne,” Omega said sharply, “If I were the megalomaniac you think me, I would not allow Joah to do this thing. Nor would I allow her to continue to indulge your...obsessive meddling.”
Severus gestured dismissively at me. “If you had wanted me to be less than nothing, you certainly succeeded. I trust you're satisfied,” he murmured, his voice dull.
I watched Severus thoughtfully and sadly as he opened a portal and disappeared without a word. I then turned toward Omega, glancing briefly at Lorne. Breathing deeply, I replied, “He was not meddling. I asked Him.”
Lorne smiled warmly at Omega. “I do enjoy our little chats. I just may grow a wide mustache if there is a next time...I would defend Myself, really, I would, but...” He sighed dreamily, “you paint such vivid picture, I find Myself swept away.”
Denenthorn rolled his eyes. “Both of you argue too much. It's bad for yer health....”
“Nonsense, Denny,” Lorne grinned. “I'm teasing her, not arguing. If there were any purpose in arguing, her side of this marry old capering would not have grown new, and exciting limbs.”
Omega shook her head and watched Lorne in cold, icy silence.
Lorne creased His brow, turning back towards Omega, muttering with a wry sort of soft tone, “Exciting limbs. What a ridiculous phrase. I like it.”
I turned away from Omega and Denenthorn, nodded my head slightly to Lorne, and headed upstairs.
Lorne gave a nod, letting out a slow breath as He stood more comfortably. “Old, old magic. If you ask for help, and you make a sacrifice, there is a great deal I can do for you.” He paused as a portal opened, and with a rush of cold air, Severus appeared. Lorne continued, gesticulating toward Severus as if presenting, “You don't want this? Sacrifice your taste for it to Me.”
Glancing at Lorne with supreme distaste, Severus gestured dismissively with one large pale-clawed hand. “Whatever it is...I think not,” he drawled with his usual sarcasm.
I watched Severus carefully for a moment, then stepped closer to Grr, laying a hand on his arm. Grr looked up at Severus. “G'day Maker. Water botherin ya?”
Severus shrugged his broad shoulders slightly. “No worse than it did millennia ago….”
Lorne caught my eye and waved off Severus' response. “There, there, big guy, I know you don't like Me. Of course, I wasn't speaking to you, so the point is moot.”
“Don’t think yourself special,” Severus snorted. “I don’t like anyone.”
Lorne grinned. “Not even yourself. Yes, we know.”
“Nothing like a master of the obvious, Lorne,” Severus muttered dryly.
I glanced from Severus to Lorne and back, watching both demons warily, awaiting Lorne’s response when it dawned on me that He’d already answered. My eyes widened with understanding. It barely registered to me that Omega and come into the Library, I was so focused on the matter at hand. I bit my lip and met Lorne's gaze.
Lorne looked back at me, grinning. “To fight hellfire with hellfire. The irony itself is something to be appreciated. Granted, I never have resided in hell, nor in fire of that name, but let's just leave that pass, shall we?”
With bluster and the sound of wet boots on stone, Denenthorn swept into the Library. “Hullo Lorne, Sev, My Sweet, Coyote, Lady Grace....” Denenthorn has taken to calling me that. Lady Grace. He yawned loudly. “What's up?”
“I’ve no idea, just got here,” Severus muttered, giving me a pointed look.
“Water levels, fer one,” Grr replied, “And tha zombies….”
Denenthorn shrugged, “I've fought it all before, bring it on,” he replied lazily.
“Lorne,” Omega said with mild sarcasm, “Such a pleasure to see you again. Have you bought cake?”
Lorne did not reply to the Lady and let others field Denenthorn’s question. He raised His eyebrows expectantly to me, holding a hand out as if to prompt. “It starts simply, really. You needn't even say it out loud...I want....”
I looked steadily at Lorne, shifting slightly in His direction. I took a deep breath and nodded my head. “Yes.”
Grr immediately alerted, looking from me to Lorne and back, then from me to Severus and to Omega, and back to me. “What are ya askin?” he spoke with alarm.
Lorne said nothing, but held my eyes. As I nodded, His hand closed abruptly, and He looked down to it. Opening His palm, a rather corroded looking coin, crude and uneven, lay there in His palm. He took it, and slipped it into His breast pocket, patting it as He looked to Omega, finally answering her question. “I'm afraid I don't deal or gift in lies, Omega. I had a gift, but it's already been given.”
I shook my head as if waking up when the coin appeared in Lorne's hand. I felt…different. I looked at Him again and smiled, murmuring, “Thank you.”
Grr opened his mouth at the sight of the coin and looked at me, still open-mouthed. “Coins…Spirit Gal, what did you do?”
Lorne gazed at me. “Not at’all. If it oils its nude body in front of you, and starts humping your leg, as if it would, you will feel not the mildest tingle.”
Omega turned toward me with a raised brow. I started to speak but was taken aback by the stricken look on Grr’s face.
“I…I….I have ta go,” he said in a rush of words, bounding out into the water of the flooded first floor, sloshing in the direction of the Hotel. Omega sighed, watching his retreat. I stared after him as he bolted away, full of concern and not understanding what had happened.
Severus blinked at Grr's disappearance and then glanced back to me. “Joah...so I repeat...what’s all this then?” he muttered irritably.
“Would you like me to show you?” I asked, turning toward Severus.
“Probably not,” he replied tersely, “But you can go ahead and spit it out.”
In answer, I simply began walking slowly toward Severus as he gave a heavy sigh and glowered down at me. He watched me warily, his towering frame taught, as if ready to spring away from my touch. I stopped, full of uncertainty. I looked from Severus to Lorne, hesitating.
“No cause to worry, Joah,” Lorne said quietly. “I have it all right here.” He patted his pocket.
I nodded to Lorne, then stepped very close to Severus and placed my hand in the sigil on his thigh. Severus scowled blackly as my hand passed through his ward to touch him. “What the bloody hell are you on about?” he said with anger, taking a step backward.
I said nothing, but stepped closer again, pulling off one of my HazMat gloves and placing my bare hand on Severus' chest. Lorne raised His brows expectantly, turning His head slightly to the side. “Anything?” he asked.
“No…nothing,” I replied with a smile. “Not a tingle.”
“What the fuck did I just miss?” Denenthorn blinked.
Omega whirled around, “Joah? What have you done?”
Severus glared icily as I touched him again. I knew that the reflex of his skin would send a torrent of pure lust to course through me, yet there I stood: unaffected. Severus tensed, his pale body growing taut as he drew in a sharp breath through fangs. “What the hell did you do?”
Lorne nodded, smiling. “Excellent.”
“I sacrificed something, Severus,” I said quietly, my hand remaining on his chest. There was nothing, just as Lorne had promised. Not a tingle.
Denenthorn looked on rather confused “Can someone tell me what in the world is going on?”
Severus narrowed his piercing pale eyes sharply at me, brushing my hand aside. “So now, not only do you have no soul but no desire? Of all the utter bloody stupid....” He ground out between clenched fangs: “Why?”
Lorne gestured towards Severus, and then to me. “I believe she may be getting to the exposition right now.”
“I still have desire, Severus,” I replied. “But I won't be left in the Dreaming again by you.” Denenthorn studied me a confused, concerned expression on his face.
“Lorne has, it seems…given Joah a charm against…well, Severus' charms,” Omega said coolly. “Am I correct?”
I shook my head. “Not a charm, Omega. He holds in His hand…my desire for Severus.”
Lorne looked over to Omega, reaching for His pocket as He gazed at me. “Well, in My pocket, but close enough.”
Omega gave me a long look. “Joah, why would you give him such a thing? Have you learned nothing from us…from Nareth?” Nareth had gone willingly to Lorne, trying to summon…something. In the process, Lorne had slain Nareth, feeding her in bits to the Shadows…keeping only her heart.
I turned toward Omega, watching her carefully, but saying nothing.
Lorne pulled out the coin from his pocket, looking down to it, then up again to Omega. “Do explain that to Severus, won't you?”
Severus continued glaring at me. “I certainly dont scent her,” he said as if I were no longer in the room. “You did all this just because of that...I repeat, utterly absurd....” he trailed off with a dark scowl.
“It is hard to feel pity for a lamb that will not stop straying into the abattoir, Joah,” said Omega with more than a trace of anger in her voice.
Denenthorn appeared deep in thought. With a small frown on his face, all he said was, “I see....”
“Lorne,” Omega said sharply, “If I were the megalomaniac you think me, I would not allow Joah to do this thing. Nor would I allow her to continue to indulge your...obsessive meddling.”
Severus gestured dismissively at me. “If you had wanted me to be less than nothing, you certainly succeeded. I trust you're satisfied,” he murmured, his voice dull.
I watched Severus thoughtfully and sadly as he opened a portal and disappeared without a word. I then turned toward Omega, glancing briefly at Lorne. Breathing deeply, I replied, “He was not meddling. I asked Him.”
Lorne smiled warmly at Omega. “I do enjoy our little chats. I just may grow a wide mustache if there is a next time...I would defend Myself, really, I would, but...” He sighed dreamily, “you paint such vivid picture, I find Myself swept away.”
Denenthorn rolled his eyes. “Both of you argue too much. It's bad for yer health....”
“Nonsense, Denny,” Lorne grinned. “I'm teasing her, not arguing. If there were any purpose in arguing, her side of this marry old capering would not have grown new, and exciting limbs.”
Omega shook her head and watched Lorne in cold, icy silence.
Lorne creased His brow, turning back towards Omega, muttering with a wry sort of soft tone, “Exciting limbs. What a ridiculous phrase. I like it.”
I turned away from Omega and Denenthorn, nodded my head slightly to Lorne, and headed upstairs.
Wednesday, September 24, 2008
A more equal exchange
I sat staring out the window from my chair, looking quietly at the rain when I heard GrrBrool’s padding steps. I glanced up at the banister, where he stood giving me a canine smile.
“Hello there, Spirit Gal…quiet night?”
“Quiet?” I replied. “No...not exactly. Abi's still missing.”
Grr nodded thoughtfully. “Locked in a punishment realm…some dream realm…or both.”
“What makes you say a punishment realm?” I asked.
“Cages, chains, no eyeballs…sounds pretty punishmenty ta me,” Grr sighed, walking down the stairs to the drawing room. “That and apparently she said it was punishment.”
My eyes widened with surprise. “You've…talked with her?”
Grr shook his head. “No. Blue of all people. Came in and wanted ta help. How’s that fer screwy?”
I couldn’t help smiling, thinking of Blue and our improbable friendship, formed over a shared bottle of vodka. She’d broken more bones and tortured more people than I cared to count…and her blood had poisoned Grr…yet some indefinable bond drew us together. Grr’s eyes sought mine.
“You like her, dontcha?” Grr smiled.
“I do,” I nodded. Thinking again of Abi, I focused my attention on the lycan. “Grr, Severus is going to take us to Abi. He won't take a price,” I murmured. “Lar would give it freely, but he won't take it. He chooses punishment instead. He won't…let us stand with him in that, either. But he will take us.”
Grr wheeled about at my words. “Really? Fuck.” He began scowling. “Fuck. I should just yank her myself…Fuck tha risk.”
“I'm not sure that you can, Grr,” I sighed. “There is…a Magician…” I looked up from my cushion to see Omega suddenly still before the hearth. Her red hair gleamed in the firelight. She stood regally in blood red corset dress, the bodice overlayed with beadwork, and ribbons cinching up her waist.
“Yer Ladyship.” Grr gave a slight bow. I nodded a greeting, relief washing over me at Omega’s arrival. Grr turned back, speaking to me. “I'd not count on that, Spirit Gal.” Grr walks to the Other place, between the planes and among them. I had no doubt he could go after Abi. Whether he would return whole was another matter.
“Grr,” I explained, “The deal with the Lightbringer has been made. The die cast. Severus will be punished whether he goes or not.”
“Well,” sighed Grr, “I guess it’s too late then.”
Omega looked at both of us, smiling evenly. “Hello GrrBrool, Joah…are we still speaking of Severus?”
“Well, tha Little One, actually,” Grr frowned.
Omega turned to face the fire. “One who won't feed, and one who won't stop….”
Grr nodded. “We should mate ‘em.”
“I am not sure who that would be more cruel to, Grrbrool,” Omega replied.
I looked at Omega. “Nor I. Rago would be heartsick. As would Abi. And when she returns…what then? This feeding…I suspect it’s been going on all along. I need to speak with her Father. He warned her of this. Repeatedly.”
Omega frowned. “And what do you think Lorne can do, now?”
“He can explain to me more of her nature, Lady. Perhaps help me to help her…find a more equal exchange for her magicks.”
“I dunno.” Grr padded over and placed one paw on my shoulder. “Can we trust…Lorne?”
Omega nodded her head. “Perhaps in matters of Abi's welfare. Perhaps. Then again, feeding Nareth to the Shadows was hardly in Abi's best interests, was it?”
I looked at the floor. “I…trust him,” I said quietly.
“Well, Joah,” Omega replied, “Lorne has always been completely trustworthy...to act in his own interest.”
Grr smiled grimly. “That we can trust.”
“But Legion…” I trailed of.
“It is another matter entirely,” Grr growled. “I don’t trust It. And I don’t understand it.”
I said nothing for a moment and continued to stare at the floor. “She helped me…with Nareth’s blade, Grr. And She helped me…leave the fear behind.” I sighed. “I don't understand Her either, Grr. But….” I was lost for words.
“Joah,” Omega began, “Legion gave me the Eden Soil. It enabled me to save Nareth, to make her my Childe. Without it, Nareth would have died…but like all of Legion's gifts...it has come at a price. Legion does not give from kindness. And all her gifts have a price.”
“I didn’t say It wasn't powerful, Spirit Gal,” Grr said gently.
“But if She…or Lorne…are able to help, Abi….” I stammered.
Grr sighed and pinched his muzzle. “Why can’t we ever have nice things?”
His comment confused me. “Nice…things?” I asked.
“Errr, old sayin, Spirit Gal,” Grr replied. “We should do this on our own.”
“Hello there, Spirit Gal…quiet night?”
“Quiet?” I replied. “No...not exactly. Abi's still missing.”
Grr nodded thoughtfully. “Locked in a punishment realm…some dream realm…or both.”
“What makes you say a punishment realm?” I asked.
“Cages, chains, no eyeballs…sounds pretty punishmenty ta me,” Grr sighed, walking down the stairs to the drawing room. “That and apparently she said it was punishment.”
My eyes widened with surprise. “You've…talked with her?”
Grr shook his head. “No. Blue of all people. Came in and wanted ta help. How’s that fer screwy?”
I couldn’t help smiling, thinking of Blue and our improbable friendship, formed over a shared bottle of vodka. She’d broken more bones and tortured more people than I cared to count…and her blood had poisoned Grr…yet some indefinable bond drew us together. Grr’s eyes sought mine.
“You like her, dontcha?” Grr smiled.
“I do,” I nodded. Thinking again of Abi, I focused my attention on the lycan. “Grr, Severus is going to take us to Abi. He won't take a price,” I murmured. “Lar would give it freely, but he won't take it. He chooses punishment instead. He won't…let us stand with him in that, either. But he will take us.”
Grr wheeled about at my words. “Really? Fuck.” He began scowling. “Fuck. I should just yank her myself…Fuck tha risk.”
“I'm not sure that you can, Grr,” I sighed. “There is…a Magician…” I looked up from my cushion to see Omega suddenly still before the hearth. Her red hair gleamed in the firelight. She stood regally in blood red corset dress, the bodice overlayed with beadwork, and ribbons cinching up her waist.
“Yer Ladyship.” Grr gave a slight bow. I nodded a greeting, relief washing over me at Omega’s arrival. Grr turned back, speaking to me. “I'd not count on that, Spirit Gal.” Grr walks to the Other place, between the planes and among them. I had no doubt he could go after Abi. Whether he would return whole was another matter.
“Grr,” I explained, “The deal with the Lightbringer has been made. The die cast. Severus will be punished whether he goes or not.”
“Well,” sighed Grr, “I guess it’s too late then.”
Omega looked at both of us, smiling evenly. “Hello GrrBrool, Joah…are we still speaking of Severus?”
“Well, tha Little One, actually,” Grr frowned.
Omega turned to face the fire. “One who won't feed, and one who won't stop….”
Grr nodded. “We should mate ‘em.”
“I am not sure who that would be more cruel to, Grrbrool,” Omega replied.
I looked at Omega. “Nor I. Rago would be heartsick. As would Abi. And when she returns…what then? This feeding…I suspect it’s been going on all along. I need to speak with her Father. He warned her of this. Repeatedly.”
Omega frowned. “And what do you think Lorne can do, now?”
“He can explain to me more of her nature, Lady. Perhaps help me to help her…find a more equal exchange for her magicks.”
“I dunno.” Grr padded over and placed one paw on my shoulder. “Can we trust…Lorne?”
Omega nodded her head. “Perhaps in matters of Abi's welfare. Perhaps. Then again, feeding Nareth to the Shadows was hardly in Abi's best interests, was it?”
I looked at the floor. “I…trust him,” I said quietly.
“Well, Joah,” Omega replied, “Lorne has always been completely trustworthy...to act in his own interest.”
Grr smiled grimly. “That we can trust.”
“But Legion…” I trailed of.
“It is another matter entirely,” Grr growled. “I don’t trust It. And I don’t understand it.”
I said nothing for a moment and continued to stare at the floor. “She helped me…with Nareth’s blade, Grr. And She helped me…leave the fear behind.” I sighed. “I don't understand Her either, Grr. But….” I was lost for words.
“Joah,” Omega began, “Legion gave me the Eden Soil. It enabled me to save Nareth, to make her my Childe. Without it, Nareth would have died…but like all of Legion's gifts...it has come at a price. Legion does not give from kindness. And all her gifts have a price.”
“I didn’t say It wasn't powerful, Spirit Gal,” Grr said gently.
“But if She…or Lorne…are able to help, Abi….” I stammered.
Grr sighed and pinched his muzzle. “Why can’t we ever have nice things?”
His comment confused me. “Nice…things?” I asked.
“Errr, old sayin, Spirit Gal,” Grr replied. “We should do this on our own.”
Sunday, September 21, 2008
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.
“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.
Saturday, September 20, 2008
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
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
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
Friday, September 19, 2008
Donnoi
I walked quietly into the Library, stopping at the banister, hearing the soft low voice of the Lady below, seeing Grr kneeling at her feet. The noble outline of his head was silhouetted in the firelight, red and gold light dancing off his fur. The Lady stood still and smooth as stone, draped in red, a tableaux vivant, the queen and her knight.
Grr lifted the dog tags from his neck and placed them in Omega’s hand, setting his paw on them gently, before withdrawing. The Lady’s clear blue eyes widened as she opened her hand, looking at the tags. “GrrBrool…why are you giving me these?”
“These, are…my first possessions, Lady. They are…me.” Grr spoke quietly, his words thick with meaning. I felt a wave of sadness wash over me, thinking of his time in the kennels, in the military, trained to be a thing of only tooth and claw.
“Then you should not part with them, my love,” Omega replied.
“I…just, it…” Grr trailed off.
The Lady held the tags up in one hand, looking at them and smiling gently. “I accept your gift, GrrBrool. Thank you. I can do what I wish with these?”
Grr nodded in silence.
“Display them how I please?” Omega continued.
“They are me,” Grr said simply, seeking her gaze. “Once together, always together. A thing like a thing, is a thing.”
I watched as Omega nodded and repeated her question. “I can display them how I please?”
“Yes, Lady. They are yers now.”
“Then, GrrBrool, I choose, to display them in their only proper setting. Which is, my love, with you, around your neck.” Omega reached out, stroking the ruff of cheek. “You'll do this for me?”
Grr nodded as the Lady leaned down and fastened the tags around his neck once more. I stepped back into the street, feeling much as though I had glimpsed a private thing of beauty never meant to be seen, a pledge to the Lady’s rule in the realm of love.
Grr lifted the dog tags from his neck and placed them in Omega’s hand, setting his paw on them gently, before withdrawing. The Lady’s clear blue eyes widened as she opened her hand, looking at the tags. “GrrBrool…why are you giving me these?”
“These, are…my first possessions, Lady. They are…me.” Grr spoke quietly, his words thick with meaning. I felt a wave of sadness wash over me, thinking of his time in the kennels, in the military, trained to be a thing of only tooth and claw.
“Then you should not part with them, my love,” Omega replied.
“I…just, it…” Grr trailed off.
The Lady held the tags up in one hand, looking at them and smiling gently. “I accept your gift, GrrBrool. Thank you. I can do what I wish with these?”
Grr nodded in silence.
“Display them how I please?” Omega continued.
“They are me,” Grr said simply, seeking her gaze. “Once together, always together. A thing like a thing, is a thing.”
I watched as Omega nodded and repeated her question. “I can display them how I please?”
“Yes, Lady. They are yers now.”
“Then, GrrBrool, I choose, to display them in their only proper setting. Which is, my love, with you, around your neck.” Omega reached out, stroking the ruff of cheek. “You'll do this for me?”
Grr nodded as the Lady leaned down and fastened the tags around his neck once more. I stepped back into the street, feeling much as though I had glimpsed a private thing of beauty never meant to be seen, a pledge to the Lady’s rule in the realm of love.
Thursday, September 18, 2008
Je veux rentrer
I sat on one of the gold cushions by the fire, next to Nareth, and took a length of string from my pocket, holding it straight between my hands. “Nareth…the Nareth we knew...was many women. She traveled in many times.’
Nareth turned her head, watching me. “Traveled...in time?”
"I went with her once,” I nodded. “Imagine time running a long this string.” I held up my left hand, then the right. "The past…the future." I could see Omega watching, Brit listening, her eyes unnaturally bright.
“It's a string, just a string,” Nareth said. “And…I do not believe this.”
“Imagine an ant crawling along the string, moving from the past to the future.” I brought my hands together and the string fell beneath them in a loop. “But there can be a wrinkle.”
“A wrinkle?” asked Nareth.
“If the ant were on my left hand, it could walk straight to the right hand. Over the wrinkle. Through time to the future. Or step back into the past.” I took the string and tied it, forming a circle.
Nareth laughed nervously. “And you are saying I am an ant?”
“I am saying you are a traveler,” I replied. “An unconventional one. Now suppose, there were many threads of time." I looped the circle over my hands and wove it around my fingers, making a web. “Each thread, running its own course. Some parallel. Some not. But when I bring my fingers together…there is the wrinkle.”
Nareth furrowed her brow, not quite understanding.
“A traveler might move from one world’s time to another over such a wrinkle. It is called a tesseract.”
Nareth whispered, "Tesseract….The woman...in the market today... She...”
“She may have tessered you when she touched you,” I replied.
Nareth continued, “She said something. I had...forgotten. It makes no sense...Joah. What she said...I mean. Maybe…poetry. I do not know.”
“Will you tell us?” I asked.
Nareth nodded. “She said...to me…before she touched me...there's always a siren...and she said...there is another shore you know, upon..the other...side. And then….” Nareth glanced at the fire. “And then I was on the beach...well...almost.”
Grr had come bounding back into the Library, with food he had prepared, offering two bowls to Nareth, one slightly larger than the other. There were spoons in each, a laksa of some sort, noodles and green things bobbing its redness. The scent of ginger filled the room.
Nareth looked at Grr then gazed back into the fire. “I do not think…I am hungry…after all. Joah, if you are right...how do I…go home? Back...across the string?”
I sat in silence for a moment, tracing the arc of the flames in the hearth with my fingertip. “First, you have to decide where home is. Then you must learn to tesser.”
“I know…where home is...or…I know when,” Nareth frowned.
I nodded. “The Nareth I knew…simply opened a vortex. And went.”
Nareth lowered her head and stared at the floor.
Nareth turned her head, watching me. “Traveled...in time?”
"I went with her once,” I nodded. “Imagine time running a long this string.” I held up my left hand, then the right. "The past…the future." I could see Omega watching, Brit listening, her eyes unnaturally bright.
“It's a string, just a string,” Nareth said. “And…I do not believe this.”
“Imagine an ant crawling along the string, moving from the past to the future.” I brought my hands together and the string fell beneath them in a loop. “But there can be a wrinkle.”
“A wrinkle?” asked Nareth.
“If the ant were on my left hand, it could walk straight to the right hand. Over the wrinkle. Through time to the future. Or step back into the past.” I took the string and tied it, forming a circle.
Nareth laughed nervously. “And you are saying I am an ant?”
“I am saying you are a traveler,” I replied. “An unconventional one. Now suppose, there were many threads of time." I looped the circle over my hands and wove it around my fingers, making a web. “Each thread, running its own course. Some parallel. Some not. But when I bring my fingers together…there is the wrinkle.”
Nareth furrowed her brow, not quite understanding.
“A traveler might move from one world’s time to another over such a wrinkle. It is called a tesseract.”
Nareth whispered, "Tesseract….The woman...in the market today... She...”
“She may have tessered you when she touched you,” I replied.
Nareth continued, “She said something. I had...forgotten. It makes no sense...Joah. What she said...I mean. Maybe…poetry. I do not know.”
“Will you tell us?” I asked.
Nareth nodded. “She said...to me…before she touched me...there's always a siren...and she said...there is another shore you know, upon..the other...side. And then….” Nareth glanced at the fire. “And then I was on the beach...well...almost.”
Grr had come bounding back into the Library, with food he had prepared, offering two bowls to Nareth, one slightly larger than the other. There were spoons in each, a laksa of some sort, noodles and green things bobbing its redness. The scent of ginger filled the room.
Nareth looked at Grr then gazed back into the fire. “I do not think…I am hungry…after all. Joah, if you are right...how do I…go home? Back...across the string?”
I sat in silence for a moment, tracing the arc of the flames in the hearth with my fingertip. “First, you have to decide where home is. Then you must learn to tesser.”
“I know…where home is...or…I know when,” Nareth frowned.
I nodded. “The Nareth I knew…simply opened a vortex. And went.”
Nareth lowered her head and stared at the floor.
Days of future past
The brown girl stood next to the hearth, holding her gloves, murmuring that nothing looked familiar, no face, no part of the Library itself. Frank disbelief clouded her face as she gazed on all gathered, eyes lighting on the apparent non-humans: Grr and Lyra. The monk wheedled in a high-pitched worried voice, an adoring sycophant. The girl rubbed her head, saying again and again in heavily accented English, I am dreaming.
“Your holiness, our whole existence is because of you,” the monk Yoshua continued, his voice growing louder, his speech becoming more rapid. “Each generation passing down tales about you, and your coming. I was sent to locate you, and protect you. When you are ready, our journey begins.”
“Do you remember your name?” I interrupted, turning toward the brown girl.
“Yes…I remember my name. Nareth....”
Omega stopped cold, staring at the girl, open-mouthed.
“Nareth's place has always been here,” Grr said to the monk. “Now, more than ever. This is Home, this is…Family.”
“No!” Yoshua nearly shouted. “She belongs with us, the prophesied one.”
Omega’s voice rasped, each word agony. “Nareth?”
Nareth shook her head. “My family…such as it is…is in Cambodia. I have my state identicard.” She reached in a pocket to pull out something that looked like a faintly blinking green plastic button, and then offered it to me.
I took the button in the palm of my hand, rolling it around, looking at it. She said it wasn’t working, it had gotten wet. I extended my fingers, thinking thoughts of flame and heat, and the button rose an inch or so above my palm, a faint glow beneath it. The button began beeping, a light flashed, and then the image of Nareth appeared above my hand. A woman’s voice said
Nareth Nishi, Phnom Penh, Cambodia
Issued August 3, 2021
ID Number 4251A-09-2314
Restriction, Zone 5-F
Conviction file 876-d-2
The image flickered, and then winked out. “Hey...I can explain that,” Nareth began as the monk ran out the door having been threatened by Omega. “The conviction...there was...a mistake. I mean…never mind.” Nareth looked utterly exhausted and confused.
Grr looked Nareth over, then looked softly from me to Omega. “I think our guest needs a lay down fer a bit.”
The Marketplace
Deadweight
Satyr
“Your holiness, our whole existence is because of you,” the monk Yoshua continued, his voice growing louder, his speech becoming more rapid. “Each generation passing down tales about you, and your coming. I was sent to locate you, and protect you. When you are ready, our journey begins.”
“Do you remember your name?” I interrupted, turning toward the brown girl.
“Yes…I remember my name. Nareth....”
Omega stopped cold, staring at the girl, open-mouthed.
“Nareth's place has always been here,” Grr said to the monk. “Now, more than ever. This is Home, this is…Family.”
“No!” Yoshua nearly shouted. “She belongs with us, the prophesied one.”
Omega’s voice rasped, each word agony. “Nareth?”
Nareth shook her head. “My family…such as it is…is in Cambodia. I have my state identicard.” She reached in a pocket to pull out something that looked like a faintly blinking green plastic button, and then offered it to me.
I took the button in the palm of my hand, rolling it around, looking at it. She said it wasn’t working, it had gotten wet. I extended my fingers, thinking thoughts of flame and heat, and the button rose an inch or so above my palm, a faint glow beneath it. The button began beeping, a light flashed, and then the image of Nareth appeared above my hand. A woman’s voice said
Nareth Nishi, Phnom Penh, Cambodia
Issued August 3, 2021
ID Number 4251A-09-2314
Restriction, Zone 5-F
Conviction file 876-d-2
The image flickered, and then winked out. “Hey...I can explain that,” Nareth began as the monk ran out the door having been threatened by Omega. “The conviction...there was...a mistake. I mean…never mind.” Nareth looked utterly exhausted and confused.
Grr looked Nareth over, then looked softly from me to Omega. “I think our guest needs a lay down fer a bit.”
The Marketplace
Deadweight
Satyr
Friday, August 22, 2008
Celerity
She probably didn’t think I noticed her dancingdancingdancing, hair sticking to her smooth neck, slick with sweat. She probably didn’t realize that I could see the pink tinge of the wetness on her skin as I ascended the stairs of the Library. But I did notice, even though my mind was elsewhere, focused on the golem. And so did Grr, sniffing the air. “I smell Brit’s blood…it’s….” he’d said, then trailed off.
And when she came back into the room, I could see from the corner of my eye that she was freshly washed. I could hear the exchange of whispers between the girl and the coyote, see Brit blushing furiously and Grr patting her arm, then a look of relief and the question, “Promise?” addressed to Grr. One more piece of the puzzle.
In the twilight of the following day, I sat near the Library fire, thinking about Brit and reading a slim, small book I’d uncovered in the stacks. Omega stood gazing out the window. Pontifex worked quietly, scribbling notes. Severus . . . well, Severus sat silently, grim and glowering. I turned the book over in my hand: “Celerity” was stamped neatly in gold script on the leather cover. One passage in particular confused me and I wondered whether to seek clarification from Omega. Omega noticed my expression and asked, “Interesting reading, M'dear?”
"It’s talking about blood dolls,” I replied, “And the effects of vitae. This says a blood doll is ‘A mortal who freely gives her blood to a vampire. Most blood dolls gain a perverse satisfaction from the kiss, and actively seek out vampires who will take their vitae.’” I paused considering how to phrase my question before just blurting it out. “Is Brit a blood doll?”
Omega’s gaze narrowed. “No. she is not. And I would advise you not to use that term around her or Ethan; they believe it to be a disparaging one. Brit is not…bonded to Ethan. In all other ways, perhaps, but not that one.”
I didn’t understand. Brit and Ethan were beloveds, married. They drank deeply from each other. “What do you mean, ‘not bonded’, Lady?”
“Blood bonded, Joah. She is not bound to him in that way. Some mortals find the kiss of a vampire…any vampire, addictive,” Omega replied. “They will seek out any who would give them their desire. That could be classed as a general addiction, I suppose you could say. One who becomes bonded to a particular vampire though, that is somewhat different.”
“But she drinks his blood,” I wondered aloud. “Is she a ghoul then? This says: ‘A ghoul is a minion created by giving a bit of vampirism vitae to a mortal without draining her of blood first.’” Severus began muttering something that I couldn’t quite make out about his own addictive blood.
Omega ignored my question. “Brit is not blood bound to Ethan. Perhaps the question we ought to be asking - is why? Not all humans can be bonded. It is rare…very rare. It would have a certain irony to it though, would it not?” Omega paused, considering her words. “I would think carefully before broaching this subject with them, Joah. I have seen Ethan react very aggressively to the phrase ‘blood doll.’ And suggesting that he has not been able to bond Brit would be insulting on many levels.”
Pontifex chuckled, “How does he react to ‘sex doll’ then?” Severus grinned and made a ribald comment, which I pretended not to hear. I tried to press on. "But Brit's different, Omega. She's been becoming stronger and faster and…more alert. She picked Grr up and threw him once. And the other night she ran after him faster than any human being can run." I looked at the book again. “‘Celerity,’” I began reading. "‘The ability to move at faster-than-human speeds and with uncanny precision.’"
“She is getting the benefit of his blood, undoubtedly,” Omega said.
“But if she's not a blood doll…and she's not a ghoul …what is she?
Omega smiled, “Something else. She is something else.”
“She's married,” Pontifex said in his usual sarcastic manner. “It’s not entirely unusual in many cultures for the wife to suck her husband.”
“Pontifex,” growled Omega. If you have nothing of worth to add to the conversation, please be quiet.” Turning toward me, Omega began to explain, “Celerity is product of consumption, not bonding.”
Pontifex shrugged, “What I mean is, they are of one flesh … yeah … that's it.”
Omega whirled on Pontifex. “Must everything be a jest? A foolish question. Of course it must.” She shook her head, anger and something else unreadable on her face.
“If it's not life or death, then it is jest,” Pontifex demurred. “If not to use, then least to the djinns of fate.”
I studied Pontifex for a moment. “You are a scholar, studying much that is arcane. How does this bonding take place?”
Pontifex turned his gaze toward Omega, though he responded to me. “I have to say, with vampires I know little, except to avoid any fluid transfer.” For a moment silence was thick between the two of them; Omega seemed lost for words. “Those were your words after Myriam attempted to enthrall me, Omega.”
“But Brit and Ethan exchange fluids,” I began, trying to steer the topic away from the rift between Pontifex and Omega.
“Forgive me,” Omega hissed, “For attempting to protect you, Pontifex. How very foolish of me.”
Severus shrugged his broad shoulders slightly and turned toward me. “If it is anything like the addiction of an incubus, then the blood of the vampire binds its victim … or erm … partner. The more she feeds from the vampire, the stronger the bond.”
“I'm merely just stating my sum total of vampirism lore,” Pontifex continued. “No offense implied.” The smirk on his face said otherwise.
Omega acted as though Pontifex had not spoken. “As Severus says,” she began, “That is the usual way of it, yes.”
“So why doesn't it bond Brit?” I asked.
“Brit simply is not blood-bonded,” Omega replied. “In spite of … as Pontifex so eloquently puts it, their fluids transfer. An interesting puzzle, to be sure. But one I would tread delicately in attempting to investigate.”
Severus mused, “She must be unbondable … a rare condition. I wonder if my blood would have no affect on her either … not that I'd try….”
Suddenly, Pontifex interjected, “Am I the only one who sees the obvious?”
“Do, please, enlighten us, Pontifex,” Omega said in an icy tone.
“Brit was already bound to Ethan before blood, before marriage, before even Toxia.” Pontifex spread his hands in explanation. “Their bond isn’t some mere vampire or incubus trick. It is the one of their souls.”
“Seems Brit’s not the only one who can avoid bonds around here,” Omega muttered. “I'd say you've found the expert you were looking for, Joah.”
Omega strode over to the mysterious crate that had been delivered to the Library. Pushing at it, she shoved it a few inches. “About time we moved this damn thing.”
Pontifex smiled, but his mouth held a cruel twist. “You might best speak to Merma, Joah. She's the angel of the family, but, yes, souls are something both our kinds are intimately familiar with.”
I nodded and tucked the book back into my pocket. "Perhaps you are right, Pontifex. But maybe…." I glanced at the crate, at Omega, then stopped myself in mid-sentence. "We do need to move that. Or unpack it."
Pontifex did not relent. “Your book mentions how much the receiver enjoys the kiss. But I suspect the Vampire or Incubus draws pleasure from it as well. If it’s anything like … other releases of fluid, potentially even more so than the receiver. I can definitely tell you that possessing a woman is very pleasurable for me … though her pleasure isn’t really of mine concern....”
"Ownership," I speculated. "So it wouldn't matter to you where there was bonding?"
Severus interrupted. “For us the pleasure of the female is the ultimate concern. Without it, there is nothing to feed upon.”
Omega turned from the crate and spoke in a low, steely voice directed at Pontifex. “If you'll excuse me, I think I've heard quite enough. I would be happy to discuss this matter with you at another time, Joah.”
“Well, I believe I'm finished telling Joah the birds and the bees, ex rudis,” Pontifex smirked. “Though, Joah, if you need more private tutoring, I'm sure I can find someone to help you. I see my work is done; enjoy your day.”
I nodded to Pontifex, a bit confused, and then went to assist with the crate.
And when she came back into the room, I could see from the corner of my eye that she was freshly washed. I could hear the exchange of whispers between the girl and the coyote, see Brit blushing furiously and Grr patting her arm, then a look of relief and the question, “Promise?” addressed to Grr. One more piece of the puzzle.
In the twilight of the following day, I sat near the Library fire, thinking about Brit and reading a slim, small book I’d uncovered in the stacks. Omega stood gazing out the window. Pontifex worked quietly, scribbling notes. Severus . . . well, Severus sat silently, grim and glowering. I turned the book over in my hand: “Celerity” was stamped neatly in gold script on the leather cover. One passage in particular confused me and I wondered whether to seek clarification from Omega. Omega noticed my expression and asked, “Interesting reading, M'dear?”
"It’s talking about blood dolls,” I replied, “And the effects of vitae. This says a blood doll is ‘A mortal who freely gives her blood to a vampire. Most blood dolls gain a perverse satisfaction from the kiss, and actively seek out vampires who will take their vitae.’” I paused considering how to phrase my question before just blurting it out. “Is Brit a blood doll?”
Omega’s gaze narrowed. “No. she is not. And I would advise you not to use that term around her or Ethan; they believe it to be a disparaging one. Brit is not…bonded to Ethan. In all other ways, perhaps, but not that one.”
I didn’t understand. Brit and Ethan were beloveds, married. They drank deeply from each other. “What do you mean, ‘not bonded’, Lady?”
“Blood bonded, Joah. She is not bound to him in that way. Some mortals find the kiss of a vampire…any vampire, addictive,” Omega replied. “They will seek out any who would give them their desire. That could be classed as a general addiction, I suppose you could say. One who becomes bonded to a particular vampire though, that is somewhat different.”
“But she drinks his blood,” I wondered aloud. “Is she a ghoul then? This says: ‘A ghoul is a minion created by giving a bit of vampirism vitae to a mortal without draining her of blood first.’” Severus began muttering something that I couldn’t quite make out about his own addictive blood.
Omega ignored my question. “Brit is not blood bound to Ethan. Perhaps the question we ought to be asking - is why? Not all humans can be bonded. It is rare…very rare. It would have a certain irony to it though, would it not?” Omega paused, considering her words. “I would think carefully before broaching this subject with them, Joah. I have seen Ethan react very aggressively to the phrase ‘blood doll.’ And suggesting that he has not been able to bond Brit would be insulting on many levels.”
Pontifex chuckled, “How does he react to ‘sex doll’ then?” Severus grinned and made a ribald comment, which I pretended not to hear. I tried to press on. "But Brit's different, Omega. She's been becoming stronger and faster and…more alert. She picked Grr up and threw him once. And the other night she ran after him faster than any human being can run." I looked at the book again. “‘Celerity,’” I began reading. "‘The ability to move at faster-than-human speeds and with uncanny precision.’"
“She is getting the benefit of his blood, undoubtedly,” Omega said.
“But if she's not a blood doll…and she's not a ghoul …what is she?
Omega smiled, “Something else. She is something else.”
“She's married,” Pontifex said in his usual sarcastic manner. “It’s not entirely unusual in many cultures for the wife to suck her husband.”
“Pontifex,” growled Omega. If you have nothing of worth to add to the conversation, please be quiet.” Turning toward me, Omega began to explain, “Celerity is product of consumption, not bonding.”
Pontifex shrugged, “What I mean is, they are of one flesh … yeah … that's it.”
Omega whirled on Pontifex. “Must everything be a jest? A foolish question. Of course it must.” She shook her head, anger and something else unreadable on her face.
“If it's not life or death, then it is jest,” Pontifex demurred. “If not to use, then least to the djinns of fate.”
I studied Pontifex for a moment. “You are a scholar, studying much that is arcane. How does this bonding take place?”
Pontifex turned his gaze toward Omega, though he responded to me. “I have to say, with vampires I know little, except to avoid any fluid transfer.” For a moment silence was thick between the two of them; Omega seemed lost for words. “Those were your words after Myriam attempted to enthrall me, Omega.”
“But Brit and Ethan exchange fluids,” I began, trying to steer the topic away from the rift between Pontifex and Omega.
“Forgive me,” Omega hissed, “For attempting to protect you, Pontifex. How very foolish of me.”
Severus shrugged his broad shoulders slightly and turned toward me. “If it is anything like the addiction of an incubus, then the blood of the vampire binds its victim … or erm … partner. The more she feeds from the vampire, the stronger the bond.”
“I'm merely just stating my sum total of vampirism lore,” Pontifex continued. “No offense implied.” The smirk on his face said otherwise.
Omega acted as though Pontifex had not spoken. “As Severus says,” she began, “That is the usual way of it, yes.”
“So why doesn't it bond Brit?” I asked.
“Brit simply is not blood-bonded,” Omega replied. “In spite of … as Pontifex so eloquently puts it, their fluids transfer. An interesting puzzle, to be sure. But one I would tread delicately in attempting to investigate.”
Severus mused, “She must be unbondable … a rare condition. I wonder if my blood would have no affect on her either … not that I'd try….”
Suddenly, Pontifex interjected, “Am I the only one who sees the obvious?”
“Do, please, enlighten us, Pontifex,” Omega said in an icy tone.
“Brit was already bound to Ethan before blood, before marriage, before even Toxia.” Pontifex spread his hands in explanation. “Their bond isn’t some mere vampire or incubus trick. It is the one of their souls.”
“Seems Brit’s not the only one who can avoid bonds around here,” Omega muttered. “I'd say you've found the expert you were looking for, Joah.”
Omega strode over to the mysterious crate that had been delivered to the Library. Pushing at it, she shoved it a few inches. “About time we moved this damn thing.”
Pontifex smiled, but his mouth held a cruel twist. “You might best speak to Merma, Joah. She's the angel of the family, but, yes, souls are something both our kinds are intimately familiar with.”
I nodded and tucked the book back into my pocket. "Perhaps you are right, Pontifex. But maybe…." I glanced at the crate, at Omega, then stopped myself in mid-sentence. "We do need to move that. Or unpack it."
Pontifex did not relent. “Your book mentions how much the receiver enjoys the kiss. But I suspect the Vampire or Incubus draws pleasure from it as well. If it’s anything like … other releases of fluid, potentially even more so than the receiver. I can definitely tell you that possessing a woman is very pleasurable for me … though her pleasure isn’t really of mine concern....”
"Ownership," I speculated. "So it wouldn't matter to you where there was bonding?"
Severus interrupted. “For us the pleasure of the female is the ultimate concern. Without it, there is nothing to feed upon.”
Omega turned from the crate and spoke in a low, steely voice directed at Pontifex. “If you'll excuse me, I think I've heard quite enough. I would be happy to discuss this matter with you at another time, Joah.”
“Well, I believe I'm finished telling Joah the birds and the bees, ex rudis,” Pontifex smirked. “Though, Joah, if you need more private tutoring, I'm sure I can find someone to help you. I see my work is done; enjoy your day.”
I nodded to Pontifex, a bit confused, and then went to assist with the crate.
Wednesday, August 13, 2008
But iron, cold iron, is master of men all
Dark luster standing in the dim light of the Library window, eyes empty, mouth closed. Blood, heart, spirit: the golem had none of those things and required them all. Labyrinth watched, opening and closing her hand. She would not help, but she would not hinder. She held in her fist a die with infinite sides, spinning and stopping. Time was short, fragile seconds expiring ever faster as the die spun.
It was time to bring Nareth home. I called on the Outer Gods, the true Ones, and then Omega offered. I would have used Nareth’s blade upon Omega’s wrist, but Jack wanted her throat. A swift, deep cut, and my hand to the wound, then delicate fingertip brushstrokes on the golem’s forehead: EMET. On Labyrinth’s: MET.
I gave the dripping blade to Pontifex, a door only he could open, for he is intimately acquainted with the gift of pain. And pain he did cause, but he did not take it without consent: Abi wept as he prodded, demanded, forced her to remember the taste Jack’s razor, sour and biting cold at the moment of her birth, pulling her screaming into the world. Nareth, the bloody midwife. The pain of losing Nareth and the pain of bringing her back.
And it was enough: Nullam nunc dolor. The blade began to glow black in Pontifex’s hands. Hendrerit nec. A dark violent tendril arced from the blade to Labyrinth. Gravida eu, turpis. Probability and possibility collapsed. The die vanished. Things began to fall apart.
You must speak its purpose, Labyrinth had said to Omega. You are its creator. And the Lady with chilling finality: Nareth must act in accordance with my Will, for the benefit of us all. I shuddered, but it was too late to stop her; Nareth’s purpose had been cast. For the benefit of us all.
With sudden speed, the Watcher attacked. Wolfe, coyote, beast—Grrbrool ripped the heart from Labyrinth’s chest, all razor teeth and claw and blood-matted fur. He placed it, beating, into my hands. Omega lifted them up to her, lips bending close to taste the god’s blood. She gave Abi the choice: Bring her back? Or burn the heart? Abi whispered, Bring her back.
I opened my spirit to Legion, making the thing that should not, be: a beating heart in a chest of iron. Labyrinth’s exoskeleton disintegrated, only a few shards littering the floor. Larissa’s lips on the golem, a kiss, a breath and please live. Nareth’s eyes fluttered open. My bloody thumb on her mouth and speak.
Then Nareth was back. Her green eyes, watching. Her voice, speaking. Wondering why we were assembled. Some one said, We’re mourning. Mourning who? Nareth had asked. You, I replied.
Pontifex did not correct me. But Labyrinth was gone. Eris, Discordia, Azathoth, the Whisperer in the Darkness. Aunt Beast. Pontifex stood still and silent as stone. Artemisia whimpered, lost. We were mourning. But not for Nareth.
I knelt and picked up the few remaining shards of Labyrinth’s exoskeleton and quietly placed them in my pocket. She had walked in the world among us, but it was not the appointed time. Though I knew she went to await the Messenger, I wondered if she had truly gone. For of the many lessons Aunt Beast taught me, the deepest one was this:
She always wins.
It was time to bring Nareth home. I called on the Outer Gods, the true Ones, and then Omega offered. I would have used Nareth’s blade upon Omega’s wrist, but Jack wanted her throat. A swift, deep cut, and my hand to the wound, then delicate fingertip brushstrokes on the golem’s forehead: EMET. On Labyrinth’s: MET.
I gave the dripping blade to Pontifex, a door only he could open, for he is intimately acquainted with the gift of pain. And pain he did cause, but he did not take it without consent: Abi wept as he prodded, demanded, forced her to remember the taste Jack’s razor, sour and biting cold at the moment of her birth, pulling her screaming into the world. Nareth, the bloody midwife. The pain of losing Nareth and the pain of bringing her back.
And it was enough: Nullam nunc dolor. The blade began to glow black in Pontifex’s hands. Hendrerit nec. A dark violent tendril arced from the blade to Labyrinth. Gravida eu, turpis. Probability and possibility collapsed. The die vanished. Things began to fall apart.
You must speak its purpose, Labyrinth had said to Omega. You are its creator. And the Lady with chilling finality: Nareth must act in accordance with my Will, for the benefit of us all. I shuddered, but it was too late to stop her; Nareth’s purpose had been cast. For the benefit of us all.
With sudden speed, the Watcher attacked. Wolfe, coyote, beast—Grrbrool ripped the heart from Labyrinth’s chest, all razor teeth and claw and blood-matted fur. He placed it, beating, into my hands. Omega lifted them up to her, lips bending close to taste the god’s blood. She gave Abi the choice: Bring her back? Or burn the heart? Abi whispered, Bring her back.
I opened my spirit to Legion, making the thing that should not, be: a beating heart in a chest of iron. Labyrinth’s exoskeleton disintegrated, only a few shards littering the floor. Larissa’s lips on the golem, a kiss, a breath and please live. Nareth’s eyes fluttered open. My bloody thumb on her mouth and speak.
Then Nareth was back. Her green eyes, watching. Her voice, speaking. Wondering why we were assembled. Some one said, We’re mourning. Mourning who? Nareth had asked. You, I replied.
Pontifex did not correct me. But Labyrinth was gone. Eris, Discordia, Azathoth, the Whisperer in the Darkness. Aunt Beast. Pontifex stood still and silent as stone. Artemisia whimpered, lost. We were mourning. But not for Nareth.
I knelt and picked up the few remaining shards of Labyrinth’s exoskeleton and quietly placed them in my pocket. She had walked in the world among us, but it was not the appointed time. Though I knew she went to await the Messenger, I wondered if she had truly gone. For of the many lessons Aunt Beast taught me, the deepest one was this:
She always wins.
Thursday, May 29, 2008
The missing Omegan doctor
From Joah's tablet and sheaf of GrrBrool's notes, written in pencil, and ringed with tea stains.
I walked into the library, having fed, expecting a quiet evening. What I found instead was a red-haired man, head down, wearing a mask behind which came a whirring noise. To me he was an unfamiliar figure, but I gathered from the Omega’s expression, not an unknown one. He sat in a chair across from the fireplace: slumped masked and wrapped in clothes. I quietly settled in and watched him carefully, listening to the whirring and coughing, waiting to see what he would say. Mirah sat by the fire, fur bristling, and eyes wary.
GrrBrool entered the Library and began sniffing. He frowned and crossed behind the man, taking a seat on the central cushion, back to the fire. The Lady's chair was to his right, the stranger before him. I learned later that Grr and the stranger had exchanged words the night before in the Diner, brief but telling. The stranger’s name was Dominic Salming. A doctor. The missing Omegan Doctor, in fact.
Grr's posture neither was that of encroached territory, nor hostile nor threatened but ill at ease. As the stranger gave no introduction, GrrBrool watched and waited. A deep sigh and a whirring from the face of the stranger finally stirred Grr to speak. "Ya seem ta sit there pretty comfortably, like yer used to it." A mumbled response to the affirmative came from the man, eliciting a frown from the Praetor. "Not been here fer a while then?" Another monosyllabic sentence came in reply.
Grr blinked incredulously at the stranger, then looked to his right to Omega and back. "I guess ya've missed out on a lot of things then." Again, muttered answers, followed by more whirring from the man's face, behind the mask of cloth. Grr bristled slightly and pressed on, "So, where have you been?" Yet another unhelpful answer grumbled from the man. The frown on Omega's face could have cut glass. GrrBrool flattened his ears and continued "Awright then, what’s that whirrin in yer face? I ask cause I worry it could be a bomb, ya never know. And yer all covered."
With a great huffing, coughing and dramatic sighing the stranger unwrapped his face and sullenly exposed his noisy-cybernetic optics. GrrBrool was quite irritated at this point and was in no mood for further evasion. "Look, after our talk last night I checked the files. I know who ya are so why dontcha give me a report?” Once again, the man muttered a less than helpful response: "Research." GrrBrool looked again to Omega, whose expression had smoothed to the cold indifference reserved for the most tedious of interlopers. "Maybe ya don't know me, maybe that’s what’s got yer gander up, well I’m GrrBrool, Praetor of Tha Institute and THIS" he gestured expansively with a paw, "in case ya fergot, is Her Ladyship Omega, who's Institute ya serve, so I suggest ya start reportin where ya been and whatcha been doin."
It was Omega's time to speak. "Oh, the Doctor knows very well who I am." Having enough of it, the Omega rose and crossed the room. “If you've no intention of sharing your research, and in fact will not even announce yourself, as is courteous . . . I wonder - why are you here?”
The man called Dominic Salming let out a tired yawn. "Good to visit every so often ain't it? Also, my notebook got full." It was the most he’d said thus far.
The Omega spoke quietly and with authority. “As a member of this Institute, certain things are expected of you. The disclosure of information, as you know, is one of them.”
I looked toward Dominic, not knowing what to expect. Frankly, I’m unaccustomed to seeing disrespect of the Omega by one of her own. I knew the Lady would not brook it.
"Sorry. I must have forgotten while I was away. Please forgive me.” Dominic yawned again, but this time he took out his notebook. “Most of this would be hard to understand anyway."
“Well, with you here to explain it, I'm sure we'll manage. Won't we?” Omega held out her hand. Dominic placed the notebook in her palm, grumbling and swearing under his breath.
With a small nod, Omega took the notebook and handed it directly to GrrBrool with a smile. “Thank you,” she nodded to Dominic. “Now you've gotten yourself into quite the mess.”
The doctor turned, pointing to Grr. "Rip any pages, and I'll be coming for you."
Mirah’s hair began to stand straight up as she said softly, “You may want to rethink those words.”
“I can assure you Dominic, My Praetors are not in the habit of damaging things I place in their possession. And I dare say if you were foolish enough to ‘come for him’ as you say - you would find it to be the last error you made.” Omega’s words were steel. “Things have changed since you were away. Or perhaps you have changed.”
The Lady raised her hand and the books began to rumble. Small arcs of lighting danced on the shelves and down the pillars of the library. “You will not threaten me or mine again. Do you understand me?”
The doctor's one good eye narrowed as he nodded slowly, “Perfectly.”
I studied the group: All were quiet. Even GrrBrool blanched at the dressing down that the erstwhile Doctor had received. Mirah’s eyes never left the the man. Hers was the stillness a cat ready to pounce on prey. Suddenly, the Omega bared her fangs at Dominic, closed her raised hand into a fist, and the Library stilled. I thought of Nareth’s burned hand, knowing that the Omega’s commands are not to be breached lightly.
The doctor’s cybernetic eye twisted and buzzed as it focused on the Omega. "Glad to be home at last." He words were full of double meaning.
“I'm sure you are,” Omega replied in a cold voice just above a whisper. “Let us hope we can share in your sentiment soon.”
I silently agreed.
I walked into the library, having fed, expecting a quiet evening. What I found instead was a red-haired man, head down, wearing a mask behind which came a whirring noise. To me he was an unfamiliar figure, but I gathered from the Omega’s expression, not an unknown one. He sat in a chair across from the fireplace: slumped masked and wrapped in clothes. I quietly settled in and watched him carefully, listening to the whirring and coughing, waiting to see what he would say. Mirah sat by the fire, fur bristling, and eyes wary.
GrrBrool entered the Library and began sniffing. He frowned and crossed behind the man, taking a seat on the central cushion, back to the fire. The Lady's chair was to his right, the stranger before him. I learned later that Grr and the stranger had exchanged words the night before in the Diner, brief but telling. The stranger’s name was Dominic Salming. A doctor. The missing Omegan Doctor, in fact.
Grr's posture neither was that of encroached territory, nor hostile nor threatened but ill at ease. As the stranger gave no introduction, GrrBrool watched and waited. A deep sigh and a whirring from the face of the stranger finally stirred Grr to speak. "Ya seem ta sit there pretty comfortably, like yer used to it." A mumbled response to the affirmative came from the man, eliciting a frown from the Praetor. "Not been here fer a while then?" Another monosyllabic sentence came in reply.
Grr blinked incredulously at the stranger, then looked to his right to Omega and back. "I guess ya've missed out on a lot of things then." Again, muttered answers, followed by more whirring from the man's face, behind the mask of cloth. Grr bristled slightly and pressed on, "So, where have you been?" Yet another unhelpful answer grumbled from the man. The frown on Omega's face could have cut glass. GrrBrool flattened his ears and continued "Awright then, what’s that whirrin in yer face? I ask cause I worry it could be a bomb, ya never know. And yer all covered."
With a great huffing, coughing and dramatic sighing the stranger unwrapped his face and sullenly exposed his noisy-cybernetic optics. GrrBrool was quite irritated at this point and was in no mood for further evasion. "Look, after our talk last night I checked the files. I know who ya are so why dontcha give me a report?” Once again, the man muttered a less than helpful response: "Research." GrrBrool looked again to Omega, whose expression had smoothed to the cold indifference reserved for the most tedious of interlopers. "Maybe ya don't know me, maybe that’s what’s got yer gander up, well I’m GrrBrool, Praetor of Tha Institute and THIS" he gestured expansively with a paw, "in case ya fergot, is Her Ladyship Omega, who's Institute ya serve, so I suggest ya start reportin where ya been and whatcha been doin."
It was Omega's time to speak. "Oh, the Doctor knows very well who I am." Having enough of it, the Omega rose and crossed the room. “If you've no intention of sharing your research, and in fact will not even announce yourself, as is courteous . . . I wonder - why are you here?”
The man called Dominic Salming let out a tired yawn. "Good to visit every so often ain't it? Also, my notebook got full." It was the most he’d said thus far.
The Omega spoke quietly and with authority. “As a member of this Institute, certain things are expected of you. The disclosure of information, as you know, is one of them.”
I looked toward Dominic, not knowing what to expect. Frankly, I’m unaccustomed to seeing disrespect of the Omega by one of her own. I knew the Lady would not brook it.
"Sorry. I must have forgotten while I was away. Please forgive me.” Dominic yawned again, but this time he took out his notebook. “Most of this would be hard to understand anyway."
“Well, with you here to explain it, I'm sure we'll manage. Won't we?” Omega held out her hand. Dominic placed the notebook in her palm, grumbling and swearing under his breath.
With a small nod, Omega took the notebook and handed it directly to GrrBrool with a smile. “Thank you,” she nodded to Dominic. “Now you've gotten yourself into quite the mess.”
The doctor turned, pointing to Grr. "Rip any pages, and I'll be coming for you."
Mirah’s hair began to stand straight up as she said softly, “You may want to rethink those words.”
“I can assure you Dominic, My Praetors are not in the habit of damaging things I place in their possession. And I dare say if you were foolish enough to ‘come for him’ as you say - you would find it to be the last error you made.” Omega’s words were steel. “Things have changed since you were away. Or perhaps you have changed.”
The Lady raised her hand and the books began to rumble. Small arcs of lighting danced on the shelves and down the pillars of the library. “You will not threaten me or mine again. Do you understand me?”
The doctor's one good eye narrowed as he nodded slowly, “Perfectly.”
I studied the group: All were quiet. Even GrrBrool blanched at the dressing down that the erstwhile Doctor had received. Mirah’s eyes never left the the man. Hers was the stillness a cat ready to pounce on prey. Suddenly, the Omega bared her fangs at Dominic, closed her raised hand into a fist, and the Library stilled. I thought of Nareth’s burned hand, knowing that the Omega’s commands are not to be breached lightly.
The doctor’s cybernetic eye twisted and buzzed as it focused on the Omega. "Glad to be home at last." He words were full of double meaning.
“I'm sure you are,” Omega replied in a cold voice just above a whisper. “Let us hope we can share in your sentiment soon.”
I silently agreed.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)