by Mink, Jason
THEN
They gathered in the garden, as the sky began its long fall nightward. The previous sense of revelry was transformed, had become a solemn march into a mystery only now taking shape. With the help of Metathias, Zak had managed to move his speakers out into the green space, wiring the garden to his own master console. The music he'd programmed proved perfect for the occasion, drifting in sync with the shrinking dusk, the blooming twilight. As it came on they found their places within the sprawling garden. Baxter held the tablet, noting each of his companions in turn: Ashton the king, resplendent in his position at the center; Chloe, the queen, matron of the brood but apart, mistress to Ashton's Other; Adam the knight, ever ready to plunder in his sire's service; Annie the maiden, always a mystery; Erica the Blue Woman, a book open to all. With Zachary as the fool their little court was complete, a perfect circle to spin the world anew. Ashton began.
"Brothers and Sisters, I bid you welcome. We gather together this evening beneath the stars, seekers all, to form a circle seven strong. We have eaten well, have drank and taken pleasure where we would; now we greet He Who Dreams in humble ceremony. Over the past month each of us has been tried, tested. All have been found ready." Ashton removed the bone pipe from its case.
“While we have experimented with the Paq'qa twice before it is only now we begin to discover its deeper mysteries. Each of you shall take a name tonight. Do not choose it, it will come to you. Hold it secret until morning. Meditate on it, make love with it on your lips but do not reveal it until our circle again gathers. It is His gift to you, your station at His table." Ashton lit the pipe, then sent it on.
Each drew from the old meerschaum bowl in turn, a reverential exchange blossoming beyond any of their previous experiences together. A sense of union grew between the disparate seven, a willing transcendence into a world waiting for them just below the surface. The effect of the Paq'qa was immediate, a flood of warmth and pressure released through the back of the skull. Bodies began to tingle, the now-familiar sensation coming on stronger than ever. Erica was already grinning, cheeks beaming ruddy apple red. Annie smiled as well but it was in check, an easy secret.
Adam and Chloe both looked a bit more serious, intent on maintaining their dignity for as long as they could. In contrast Zak was already nearly naked, clad in nothing but a thin silk vest and a pair of baggy black trousers whose legs he'd shredded into a curtain of dangling threads. Ashton's expression was unreadable as he hit the pipe again. While seemingly placid there was an undeniable tension in the air around him, as if he was holding the group together by his sheer will. Baxter noted all of this with a glance, a moment frozen in flickering torchlight.
The humid summer air seemed to congeal into a glutinous membrane that bound them. Across its surface vibrations from the speakers played, ripples upon a still pool. A patter of shimmering notes fell, bell-like and silver around them. Mysterious and dissonant, their echo combined into one singing tone, bringing chills to their collective skin. It seemed to ring on forever, growing lower but no less complete in its lessening. Just before falling out of earshot another cluster of notes sounded, no louder than the first but startling in their unexpectedness. These were brighter, whiter sounds against a darkening sonic tapestry. It was impossible to say what produced them; they rang as glass might but warmer, less fragile. The echo again formed that singular tone. This time it was richer, resonating deeper into their beings, evoking a sense of desire for some thing not yet known. Seemingly endless, the bowl glowed, dusk's reprise. Its smoke possessed a rich earthiness that only grew as it burned. The pipe's surface had taken on a glistening quality, wet and scaly and perhaps closer in texture to the thing it was carved to represent. Baxter watched wordlessly as Ashton tapped out the ashes and returned the bowl to its case.
The cluster of notes came again, overlapping with the fading tone. They changed slightly, becoming more discordant though no less powerful. There was an ancient quality to the sound, an eternal resonance sung back from an infinite distance. It was part of them now, connected by the membrane to countless other such vibrating pockets throughout the cosmos. Their new skin rang with the growing echo-tone. A far-off roar, a declaration shouted from the end of forever, it surged forward, breaking on this distant shore. A chill swept through the group, a sudden flash of fear.
"Don't be afraid," Ashton said evenly. "Just let it happen."
The echo churned on, became obscured by the next cluster. The notes fell harder, further apart. The result was jarring, a sudden undercurrent in the membrane. Some of the group began to stir, shifting uncomfortably at the edge of the circle.
"Everybody relax," Ashton said, only adding to the tension. The notes decayed, became a red echo building quickly towards the next tone.
"I don't like this," Chloe could be heard saying. But her words were dust, swept aside by a sudden wind that filled the center of the circle. Something spun in the air before them unseen, had come to answer their call. Baxter shouted to be heard.
"Correct me if I'm wrong, but this is different than the last time."
Ashton nodded, his eyes wide. "Yes. This time we took a more… purified dose."
The unseen presence pulsed, sought purpose there among them.
"What does it want?" Chloe asked fearfully.
Ashton answered her without turning. "The question is, what do you want?"
The membrane buzzed, passing the weird current over their skin. The air felt charged, an electric tang that was both sickening and stimulating.
"I want power!" Before anyone could stop him Adam thrust his hand into the center of the circle. It refracted, for lack of a better word, his flesh splitting away in eight different directions. Some of it spattered backwards to the ground, quickly pooling in the freshly-cut grass; the rest, pointed outwards and upwards, shot off and into the darkness beyond. Zak began to vomit while Annie screamed.
"You have to focus!" Ashton shouted. "Seize the power! Mold it to your will!"
But Adam was beyond seizing anything, watching mutely as his mass was tapped away. The end of his arm fountained skin, ribbons of him spilling everywhere. His body undulated, muscles contracting in an effort to extrude him from the inside out. As it did the thing at the center of the circle began to manifest. Only bits of it formed, sections of raw texture, what might have been flesh or hair, tooth or horn flashing momentarily before winking out again in the coruscating fabric of potentiality. It writhed, struggled as the shape of something with no shape of its own, staring back eyeless from across the Rift…
Baxter dove forward, tackling Adam. The two of them tumbled forward, spilling out of the circle and into the night beyond. There was an ugly popping sound and a sudden displacement of air as the two hit the damp grass.
"FOOL!" Ashton cried, storming forward. His booted foot caught Adam in the small of the back. The downed man let out an agonized wheeze and crumpled. Ashton pulled his foot back, intent on kicking him again.
"Enough!" Baxter demanded, leaping to his feet. "Just leave him be."
A look of pure rage burned across Ashton's face but was quickly masked with a sudden smile. “I'm sorry, Brother. Don't know what came over me." He stepped back, eyes still on Adam, then returned to the circle.
Baxter considered the fallen man before him. Adam was and probably always would be a total bastard, the last person worthy of compassion, and yet Baxter felt for him nonetheless. The guy was a blubbering heap. What could he have possibly done with power?
"What in God's name was that, Ashton?" Erica demanded. She was no longer smiling.
"That, my dear, was a manifestation of Paq'q. An emissary, if you will." He smiled, as if to show it was no big deal.
"An emissary? It nearly killed Adam!"
Ashton shook his head gravely. "Adam nearly killed himself, Sister. Would you reach into a furnace or grab a live wire? And if you did, who would be to blame? One must be ready to take power when the opportunity presents itself. Both the body and the spirit must
be malleable if they are to hold this power. Adam is... unready to accept Paq'q's gift."
"Accept it?" Erica asked incredulously. "Who would accept it?"
"I would."
It was Annie who spoke but her words were quiet, muffled by the veil of eyes that now obscured her face.
ELEVEN
The night lasted forever. There were times Baxter was sure he'd gone mad, but it was wishful thinking on his part: madness would have been sweet relief in the face of what had occurred. It had all gone so wrong.
While his body was fine, Adam's mind seemed to have been damaged by his experience, leaving him in shock. Chloe and Erica had attempted to bring him around but he proved unresponsive. Meanwhile, Zak had been driven to build a fire at the circle's center; with the aid of Metathias a good-sized blaze was started and maintained at a hellish intensity throughout the night. Around it Zak danced, sometimes with the girls but mostly alone. He'd picked up a small drum from somewhere in the house and banged on it incessantly, only stopping to smoke pot with Ashton. He did his best to ignore Annie; her transformation was unbearable to behold and no one would look at her. She babbled a mix of heresy and prophecy, laughing, weeping, her veil of eyes staring, staring…
Baxter had enough. He tried to reconcile himself to Annie's transformation. He could not. The change was too painful. But it was her true self, Ashton explained, it was why she stood with them in the first place.
"Annie is our oracle, the lens through which we see out past and future paths. She is the First, and has been sent to guide us."
No one bothered to dispute him.
"We should get them both to a hospital," Erica said, staring down at Adam's trembling form.
Ashton shook his head dismissively. "Impossible. No doctor can help them."
"I think he is going into shock!"
Ashton rose, his irritation evident. "No one is going anywhere. Anything we might need is here at the manor." Ashton knelt down beside Adam.
"Adam. Snap out of it." Adam looked up uncomprehending, then stared down at his right hand. It was intact, unchanged, though the fingers were curled in a grim rictus, Ashton seized it.
"See? You're fine. Get up, now. Join the party."
Adam looked away, his face rashed with shame.
"Go away," he said in a small voice.
Disgusted, Ashton pushed his hand aside and rose. "Adam is our knight," he said, his voice thick with disgust. "Or was, anyway. Perhaps you would like to be knight, Erica?"
Wordlessly Erica stormed off. Ashton swore under his breath and returned to his chair, to drink from a small silver flask. After a moment Chloe joined him and the two fell into a quiet but intense conversation. Zak continued to dance around the circle, thumping away on his drum and looking all the world like a certain behooved deity of the Spring. His black mane swung and swirled, an ever-changing shadow tattoo across his face. He moved in time with the music, jumping, leaping, twisting wildly in the air only to land effortlessly on his already-moving feet. His shredded pant-legs took on the appearance of coarse black hair, obscuring his movements and allowing him to seemingly change direction in mid-air. His was a mad dance, spurred on by the Paq'qa and the unrelenting music of the night.
Baxter watched his friend in both wonder and apprehension; would Zak make it back from something like this? He'd heard of people going on acid trips and never coming down - the Paq'qa made acid look like candy. Still, Baxter figured it was best to let Zak dance it out of his system. What to do about Annie, though…that was another story.
That she now wore some sort of bizarre veil was undeniable; it was the reality of the thing itself that was questionable. Was it simply a silk scarf she'd draped over her head, transformed by the power of suggestion into the now-hideous caul? Or was it some sort of astral thing? Baxter tried to remember his esoteric lore, but realized he wouldn't know a chakra from a hole in his head. No luck there. He refused to entertain the third possibility. It couldn't possibly be...
"Baaaxter." Annie called to him, her voice a strained whisper. He tried to ignore her but could not, compelled to again look her way. She was staring at him with dozens of unblinking eyes. They were blue, green, hazel and otherwise, indescribable hues that had no place in nature. Held in place by a network of countless tiny veins, the eyes darted about independently, with an almost gluttonous need for sensation. Baxter found himself ensnared, unable to look away.
"What? What do you want, damn it?" he said, raising an arm as if to ward her off. It weighed a ton, proved impossible to move above his collarbone. She giggled and the veil rippled wetly, billowing with her expelled breath. Sickened, Baxter staggered backwards. The grass was slick beneath his feet and he realized he was stepping through Zak's old vomit. Annie raised her hands in sudden prostration, then leaned forward to whisper in his ear.
"I can't see." From beneath her veil Annie let out an ice-cracking note, the frightful precursor to the peals of mad laughter which followed. Shaken, Baxter turned from her and ran wildly out of the garden, into the blessed shadows beyond.
~*~
He watched the sun rise from his window. It was a pensive dawn, reticent to see what night had abandoned. Baxter understood its apprehension all too well, in fact, he shared it. Morning was curiously quiet, as if stunned by the recent debauchery. The music had long ago stopped, though Zak continued to bang his drum somewhere in the wilds of the garden. A thin finger of blue smoke could be seen through the trees, the remnants of the impromptu bonfire burning itself out. Baxter wondered if the others were still out there. It had been hours since he'd left; had the rest stayed on? Had Erica returned? He knew no answers would come from staring out the window but he continued anyway, unable to step out of morning's first light. It fell across him suddenly, the sun breaking the edge of the distant treeline. Bronzed by its touch, the sunlight infused his tired flesh, saturating his being. He arched, flexed his arms and back, astonished by the sudden sense of vitality that gripped him. The Sun.
He understood then. Baxter left the window, quickly made his way through the manor and back to the garden. By now the drum had taken on a different rhythm, more insistent, calling him forward. His step was lithe, effortless across the dew-damp grass. The back of his skull smoldered, the effects of the Paq'qa still with him. Phantom shapes swam in the air, half-things more There than Here. He'd noticed them earlier in the manor, but not nearly as many, or as clearly. Most moved as he did, directly to the inner garden. Sunlight lay a path before them, a road hidden until now. He followed it to the peak of the hill.
Below, the other six occupied their stations within the indrawn circle. Still drumming, Zak was sitting, as were Erica and Annie. Chloe stood between Ashton and Adam, her hands clasping theirs. Heads bowed, they all seemed to be listening to something Baxter could not hear. As he approached, Ashton looked up and smiled at Baxter. "Good morning, Brother."
The others looked up as well. To Baxter's relief Annie was herself again, the only eyes in evidence were the two that belonged in her head. He smiled but she simply looked through him. Troubling, but far better than what he'd expected. Adam stood as if at attention, but Baxter could tell he was shattered from his experience. Who could blame him? Though Adam was physically restored to his former self, Baxter understood that the true transformation had occurred inside. No one seemed especially chipper, though there was a quiet intensity to the group he had to admire. Ashton let go of Chloe's hand and crouched down by the leather pouch at his feet. Baxter filled the empty spot in the circle between Ashton and Erica.
Erica looked exhausted. "Hey, Baxter. Nice of you to join us."
He shrugged. "I got here as soon as I could."
She nodded in understanding.
Ashton rose to his feet, a small wax totem in his hand. "We gather here this morning, to form a circle seven strong. We have endured the night's trials, have been transformed by its revelations. We are born anew this morning, have emerged from the chrysalis as our true selves. Forever forward
shall we know each other thusly, by the names our Mistress has so graciously bestowed." All looked to him. "You may call me Brother Nacht." He turned to Chloe.
"I am Sister Zephyr."
Adam stepped forward. "I'm Brother Fenris."
Baxter thought he heard Zak scoff through the now-serpentine rhythm, but the young man's face remained beatific.
Annie cleared her throat. "I'd like to be called Sister Io."
Ashton looked toward Zak.
"Call me Pan. I mean, why piss around?"
There was murmured assent.
Without being asked, Erica volunteered, "Sister Astra," she said, her words hanging in the perfumed air.
"Baxter?" Ashton asked after a moment.
"Helios."
It was an audacious name to give to oneself, but Baxter felt it fit.
Ashton nodded a positive affirmation, quietly pleased. Well, good for him. "With the destruction of this effigy it is done. We need only the fire of morning."
Wordlessly, Baxter produced the ornate silver Zippo he'd discovered earlier. His thumb spun the wheel, set the spout of flame to the effigy's twisted wick. It caught quickly, hissing and sparking in a cloud of blue smoke.
Ashton held it aloft as it crackled. "Hear us now, Father! We are born again of you! Our spirits one, our flesh now your flesh, we await to be remade in your service. Look upon the sacrifice of our Past as our pledge to your Future! We stand every ready to receive you, to be re-molded to suit your needs. Heed us! We are your avatars!" With that he chucked the now-charred totem into the remains of the bonfire. There was a great crack, a stunning sound that snuffed the fire out abruptly. Ashton blinked. "Well…I didn't expect that." He wandered off, rubbing his eyes.
Chloe picked up his leather satchel and followed without a word. Adam did the same. Erica wandered over to where Zak was drumming.