'Could you just take me . . . home?' El-i-miir looked at her feet. 'Wherever that is.'
'Elmsville,' Ilgrin replied. 'Seteal's there, too. Come on.' He offered his hand, but El-i-miir looked at it as though he were brandishing a weapon. 'I remind you of him, don't I?'
'A little bit.' El-i-miir finally allowed Ilgrin to put his arms around her. 'I know you're nothing like him. I know it. I trust you. I do . . . so please, just take me home.'
*
Far-a-mael quivered with pleasure. 'Come to me.' The cloud of moths returned through the window. They burrowed into his flesh and made their way down his throat and into his lungs, finally allowing him to breathe properly again. His cloak became heavier and more complete. His heart beat more soundly and his eyes regained their depth of colour.
Next the memories came. Thousands of tiny compound eyes had explored thousands of parts of the world. They'd been to every city and village. They'd seen the approaching whisp cloud. They'd discovered that the silts had established a footing worthy of notice in Beldin. Far-a-mael jolted in surprise. He remembered when the first demons had landed in Gor. He'd seen rivers of human blood in the streets and the screaming faces on small children. They, too, would either meet with death or be forced into slavery. Of course, it wasn't the murder of so many innocent lives that gave Far-a-mael reason to pause. Rather, it was the fact that the silt invasion had already come so far north.
The moths burrowed through Far-a-mael's skull where they shuffled into position and morphed into pieces of his brain. The new memories continued his enlightenment. Most of the information was useless and he discarded it immediately, but every now and then he'd arrive at something terribly exciting.
There was a dirt road on which a young woman stood. Her tear-filled hazel eyes flashed for a moment as the moth bounced and fluttered away on the cold wind. The eyes were unmistakable, as was the town to which the moth had been. 'You've gone home,' Far-a-mael murmured, having recognised his granddaughter. 'You should've run a lot further than that, my dear.'
Far-a-mael stepped back from the balcony and closed the ice doors as the final moth fluttered into his robes. He turned around, a smile touching his lips as he headed out of the room. He made his way along the corridors and down countless stairs until he arrived at Gez-reil's door. There he waited, as it was customary to do among respectable gils.
Gez-reil stepped outside and nodded. 'I thought I felt your presence.'
'Shut the door,' Far-a-mael ordered, concerned that Gez-reil's wife would listen in. Once he would've simply known, but Far-a-mael's abilities with the Ways had become as fluttery and jittery as the moths with which he was now composed.
The High Elder did as he was told. 'Whatever is the matter?'
'I've found Seteal,' Far-a-mael replied quietly. 'She's gone home.'
'Not this again.' Gez-reil winced. 'We've tortured the poor girl enough. Can't we just leave her be?'
'She killed me,' Far-a-mael complained after glancing over his shoulder.
'But you're alive now,' Gez-reil reminded him.
'She still did it.'
'I thought you'd be proud of her for that,' Gez-reil said, his face showing confusion.
'I was,' Far-a-mael muttered. 'I am, but I'd anchored her and when I died, well . . .'
'The anchor disappeared,' Gez-reil finished for him.
'Precisely,' Far-a-mael stressed. 'And if she was able to kill me before, I'm afraid that she may very well wish to do so again.'
'So what do you propose?'
'Forced anchorage,' Far-a-mael replied.
'That's illegal,' Gez-reil said flabbergasted. 'You can't do that.'
'I can't,' Far-a-mael replied. 'Not alone anyway.'
'No way.' Gez-reil put up his hands up in rejection of the idea.
'She's a danger to all of us,' he insisted.
'I will not be involved in such a thing. It goes against everything our people stand for.'
'I'm afraid I'm not really giving you a choice,' Far-a-mael lowered his voice threateningly. 'Need I remind of what I'm now capable of doing?' Perhaps I should demonstrate on Hes-la-tie, your beautiful wife.'
'You've been our friend for years, Far-a-mael,' Gez-reil said with hurt in his eyes. 'I don't believe you'd do such a thing.'
'I wouldn't risk testing such a theory,' Far-a-mael warned. 'Gather the twelve most powerful gils in the cleff. Including yourself, that'll make up the thirteen required.'
'You're asking us to anchor the poor girl without getting your own hands dirty?'
'I'll be there,' Far-a-mael said darkly. 'I'll just be occupied with matters more important.'
CHAPTER Thirteen
abomination
With Teah wandering about like a lost sheep, Seteal had made the decision to go out for a break. She crossed the backyard haunted by the place where she'd buried Parrowun. The rusty key got stuck when Seteal slid it into the lock of the rickety workshop door. No matter how she struggled she couldn't get it in.
'That's what I get for locking doors in a crime-free town.' Seteal laughed at her own foolishness.
The brown lock had a few rust-free specks that glittered in the son. Seteal stared at it for a long time, before she heard a loud clacking sound that demanded further inspection. She grasped the handle and pulled, realising that perhaps she hadn't locked it after all.
The workshop was filled with half-finished projects and odd lengths of wood. That delightful scent of sawdust still permeated the shop. It was the very same scent that'd followed Gifn into the house of an evening. He'd never been one to shout or drink obsessively when he was under pressure. Instead, he'd bury himself in his work. With the amount of cobwebs in the workshop, Seteal was forced to the conclusion that in the case of her disappearance, Gifn had handled life quite differently. He hadn't handled it at all.
Seteal exhaled slowly--an attempt to control her emotions. She needed to be hard in order to keep herself together. She gathered a few large pieces of timber and settled them atop the work bench.
'Seteal.' Cindi appeared in the doorway. She looked terribly nervous, her face as white as a sheet.
'What's the matter?'
'You have to come quickly,' she said breathily, turning to run.
Seteal pursued her old friend until she came out onto the town square where a crowd of familiar faces stood waiting. 'What is it? What's happening?'
'We want for you to leave.' The squat mayor of Elmsville stepped out of the crowd. 'You can take your demons with you.'
'You've tricked me,' Seteal accused Cindi. 'You couldn't have warned me?'
'Sorry.' The girl wrung her hands fearfully. 'You're just not the same.'
'You all agreed to this?' Seteal waved her hands at the crowd, her feelings surprisingly hurt. She stared at Dimain the butcher, Cindi's father. She turned to her old piano teacher, but, of course, she'd made her feelings quite clear at the funeral. 'Mistress Green?' Seteal said when she found the baker's wife. 'Tessa?' She implored of her childhood crush. 'Not one of you will stand with me?'
'The people have made their feelings clear,' the mayor said sternly. 'And thank Maker your father didn't live to know his only daughter as a demon worshipper.'
'I've been protecting you.' Seteal recoiled in defence. 'You'd all be dead if it weren't for me.'
'I'll stand with you,' Teah declared loudly, landing with grace. The crowd stepped back, some even turning to run. Others became faint and collapsed.
'You were right, Cindi, I have changed,' Seteal said bitterly. 'I wish I hadn't, but I have,' she appealed to the greater crowd. As her emotions and sense of betrayal became increasingly tumultuous, the town's general clutter left the ground and rose up.
A bicycle with both wheels spinning hovered above Mistress Marn's front lawn. Mister Button's leaf litter and clippers drifted over his roof. Mister Dinn's entire outhouse floated into the sky. The canvas of the Ways slithered around Seteal and held her tight as odd bits and pieces continued to defy gravity. Th
e townsfolk became pale with fear. 'None of you tried to find me. Nobody cared! Where were you then, when he was hurting me?'
'Seteal,' Teah whispered in a cautionary tone.
'You left me alone,' Seteal wailed, her feet leaving the dirt. She drifted several strides into the air, her hair floating about her head as dark clouds rolled in. 'And now you want to make me leave?'
'That's enough,' Teah pleaded fearfully as people started crying out as they too ascended against their will.
'They hate me,' Seteal shouted. 'Because I'm a whore.'
Teah beat her wings, flew up, and slapped Seteal across the face. Along with their clutter, the townsfolk hit the earth, got up, and quickly dispersed. 'Can we talk about this?' Teah called up after having landed once more.
Seteal turned her head to look at her and said nothing for several seconds, her expression becoming one of anger. 'I don't want to talk,' she hissed. She turned toward the house and in a flash of movement reached the steps. The door swung open with a bang as she made her way up to the landing. After she'd entered, it slammed shut. Every cupboard opened, their contents spewing out to float around the house. One of the bottles came to rest beside a glass. The cap burst off and as Seteal tilted her head, the bottle tilted, too.
She took the glass from the air and emptied the red wine down her throat with a few gulps. 'More.' She waved the bottle over to drink straight from the source. Seteal danced, remembering a tune she'd heard and loved on the riverboat. As she danced the melody drifted out of her head and into reality. She laughed giddily as the sounds of wind instruments filled her house despite the fact that they didn't exist.
'Teah,' Seteal giggled when the angel wandered in with an expression of bewilderment.
'How is this possible?' She raised her voice over the music.
'I am truly capable of anything,' Seteal sung, passing the bottle to Teah, who shrugged and took a sip.
'Look.' Seteal burst out laughing afresh. 'It's a party!'
People folded into reality all around the house to dance and sing joyously. Each of them had a drink in their hand and wild eyes on their faces. Seteal snatched back the bottle and took another mouthful.
'Seteal.' She dropped it at the sound of Gifn's voice.
The music stopped and the party vanished. 'Father.'
'Isn't it wonderful?' He burst into tears and embraced her.
'I've missed you,' she sobbed into his shoulder.
'I've missed you, too,' Gifn replied, gently brushing her cheek. 'Thank Maker that pistol misfired.'
'Wait.' Seteal pulled away. 'What?'
'The pistol didn't fire.' Gifn smiled reassuringly.
'Yes, it did.' She stepped back, overwhelmed with understanding. 'I wish it'd failed. You're just saying what I wish was true. You're not real.'
'What is going on?' Teah murmured.
'I'm only doing what I've always done.' Seteal turned to face her. 'The only difference is that I'm projecting my memories instead of myself.'
'Yes, you are,' Master Fasil whispered in her ear before grasping Seteal's hair and throwing her to the ground.
'Oh, my Maker,' Teah shrieked in alarm, leaping at Master Fasil only to be repelled as though she'd hit a wall. 'Seteal, snap out of this. Think of something else!'
'You like that,' Fasil grunted, flipping Seteal onto her face and punching her in the kidney.
'You're fake,' Seteal wailed. She grasped for the Ways, but they were useless against something her own subconscious mind had summoned. Master Fasil tore off her underwear and pulled out his penis. 'You little whore.'
'Leave her alone,' Teah screamed, shattering a bottle over Master Fasil's head. He didn't even notice.
Burning with hatred, Seteal found a shard of glass and thrust it into Fasil's neck. She ground it into his flesh until his eyes became lifeless. His body hit the floor with a thud and Seteal turned away to fix up her clothing. When she turned back she did so to find a purple mixture: the blood of humans and silts. Parrowun was lying in the puddle. His eyes were shut and his neck bore the fresh bruising of strangulation.
'My baby,' Seteal sobbed, picking up the limp body and holding him tight in her arms.
'Oh, Seteal,' Teah whispered through hands covering her nose and mouth below eyes filled with tears. 'I had no idea. Ilgrin told me a bit, but this . . . I'm so sorry.' With a moment's passing, Parrowun disappeared back into the past, leaving Seteal to rock back and forth on the floorboards.
She grunted, got to her feet and looked around the room with a vacant expression. The array of items that'd previously been floating were now spread out all over the place, many of them broken. Seteal haphazardly kicked a can of beans and made her way up to the bedroom. She pulled back the covers and slithered into bed. The light was irritating and so night fell in Elmsville less than halfway through the day.
Deuteronomy 22
28-29. If a man find a damsel who is a virgin who is not betrothed, and lay hold of her and lie with her, and they be found, then the man that lay with her shall give unto the damsel's father fifty coins of silver and she shall be his wife; because he hath humbled her.
Scriptures of the Holy Tome
CHAPTER Fourteen
scriptures of the holy tome
Ilgrin held El-i-miir close as he flew. They'd stopped at a stream earlier for her to wash the blood from her clothes and she'd been shivering ever since. A glance to the south caused Ilgrin to shiver for an entirely different reason.
The whisp cloud--previously of Old World--filled the entire horizon, its dark shadow resting halfway up the length of Narvon Wood. 'Ilgrin,' El-i-miir called over the wind. 'What's that?' He followed El-i-miir's extended finger to discover a blotch of darkness, disturbingly reminiscent of a whisp, hovering where Elmsville was supposed to be. 'What did you do?'
'It wasn't me,' Ilgrin said defensively, relaxing his wings in preparation to land.
When their feet touched the earth near the signpost with Elmsville carved into it, it soon became apparent that it wasn't a whisp they were staring at. Ilgrin hesitated at the edge of what could only be described as a wall of darkness. 'It's just . . .'
'Night time,' El-i-miir finished for him. She took a step forward and was immediately engulfed to the point that Ilgrin could not easily see her. 'You're not going to believe this,' she called over her shoulder, prompting Ilgrin to follow.
After having passed over the threshold, he waited a moment to allow his eyes to adjust. 'I guess Seteal got tired,' Ilgrin stated. He went to take El-i-miir's hand but she snatched it away. They continued down the road in silence.
People were doing the best they could to go about their daily duties, but all too frequently they would stop and marvel at the strange dome of weak, twinkling light above their heads. Ilgrin put a finger to his lips, indicating for El-i-miir to stay quiet as they dodged between buildings and snuck up to Seteal's house.
'Come on,' he hissed upon the realisation that El-i-miir had frozen in her tracks.
'I'm sorry,' she said softly. 'It's just that that house brings up a lot of bad memories for me. What Far-a-mael and I did . . . what I did to her was horrible.'
'You were a rei,' Ilgrin stressed. 'You didn't know any better. You trusted your gil'rei and I'm certain Seteal has forgiven you, so please, let's get inside before we get shot.'
Ilgrin tapped on the door softly and waited until Teah had opened it. She ushered them inside before giving Ilgrin a hug and El-i-miir a nod of acknowledgement.
'Where's Seteal?' El-i-miir said.
'She's upstairs,' Teah replied. 'I think she's sleeping, but I couldn't be sure. You made it out alive.'
'Not exactly.'
The angel raised her eyebrows at Ilgrin. 'I see.'
El-i-miir glanced at the grandfather clock sitting in the corner. 'Why is it so dark at two o'clock?'
Teah nodded toward the ceiling. 'She would be my first guess. You've both missed a lot. The town turned on her and tried to make her
leave. She started floating again and took with her anything that wasn't nailed down.'
'She's getting stronger,' El-i-miir said. 'I don't know how to make sense of it.' Teah and Ilgrin cast each other weary glances. 'What is it?'
'I think--' Teah started, only to be cut off by El-i-miir, whose eyes followed something invisible around the room.
'The Holy Tome?' she said sarcastically. 'You think Seteal is the Holy Spirit. Oh, Ilgrin, you must be joking; after all we went through with Seeol.' Silence. 'You're not joking, are you?'
'No.' Ilgrin turned blue with embarrassment. 'I think there may be something to what Teah has been saying.'
'What is this?' El-i-miir looked at the silts as though they'd lost their minds. 'Sensible people don't believe in such rubbish.'
'Hey,' Teah snapped. 'You could be a little more sensitive to people's beliefs.'
'Your beliefs are stupid,' El-i-miir said in exasperation. 'We need to find a real-world solution for our problems. I feel like I'm fighting with my parents all over again.'
'Your parents are believers?' The surprise was evident in Teah's voice. 'How could you be so dim-witted as to turn away from what you must know in your heart to be true?'
'My parents had a lot of silly beliefs, Teah,' El-i-miir replied curtly. 'I'm sure you can use your imagination to figure out how they felt about your kind. Were they right about that as well?'
'Of course not, but you could still show a--'
'Shut up,' El-i-miir said, lifting a finger.
'Don't tell me to shut up.' Teah spat threateningly.
'Please,' El-i-miir's voice shook, 'just be quiet.'
'Do as she says,' Ilgrin urged the angel upon recognising the look on El-i-miir's face.
She spun in a slow circle her head snapping this way and that. 'Why'd you distract me? Now there's no--'
The sound of glass shattering against the house was the only further warning that something was amiss. The temperature increased, flames licked at the windows and thick black smoke filled the air.