by L. K. Rigel
The Empani smirked. "Asherah is perfect, of course, but the space-time continuum confuses her. She forgets to take it into account in her schemes."
It was always disconcerting to Durga that the Empani could read her mind. "Are you a god?" She didn't think it was. She had never been awestruck in its presence.
"I serve Samael." Empani Rani frowned. What, it didn't appreciate her lack of awe?
"And Asherah?"
For a moment Durga thought she saw another shape, something taller. But no, it was Rani and -- oh! A chasm cracked opened in her heart, and sorrow rushed in to fill it. Searing, unending despair filled the chasm and gripped her senses. Sadness, sadness. "Stop!" She couldn't breathe. "Stop it!"
She lost the image. There was only Rani. The longing faded.
Empani Rani's eyes widened, but they didn't flash. "Asherah is Samael's consort. In his absence, she can sometimes force her will on us." Rage emanated from the Empani, as furious as the sorrow had been deep. Durga had to change that subject fast.
"Why are you here?"
"I bring a message from Asherah. Lord Ardri's coronation will be challenged."
"First of all, she wasn't around for me to consult on the choice of king. Second of all, wait a minute. She can't possibly object to Jake. She told me directly that she wanted him for lord sheriff of the Pacific Zone settlement."
"Asherah does not object to Lord Ardri. Garrick will bring the challenge. Garrick wants the kingship. Their prince plans to protest formally during the coronation itself."
"On what grounds? Jake will be the best king in all the city-states. He built his settlement from nothing. His people adore him."
"He mocks the Great Chain of Being."
"He's a lord! His father was the Emperor. He's natural born. His mother is the Matriarch, shib's sake."
"You have felt in deep meditation the weakening of the membrane that separates each human being from another."
Today, in fact, during the orientation class.
"You always draw back. Rightly so! To cross the veil to another soul is a risk. You might merge and lose your separate self in ecstatic bliss."
"We can't have that." It sounded wonderful, actually.
"There is a worse danger than to encounter another soul. That is to encounter no soul."
"I don't understand. How could that even be possible?"
"Every human has a body and a spirit which animates that body. Samael gave these constituents to humans at the mournful hour of their creation."
Mournful hour. Nice.
"There is a third constituent. The soul. A shard of the All itself, a pure particle of the Fullness. Not a god. It is God. In the time of universal fertility, nearly every human being received a soul. As technological reproduction increased, the number of souls diminished."
"And without a greater number of souls, the material world itself will cease to exist."
"As Asherah has revealed to you. On the Great Chain, a soulless human is the lowest of the low."
Chita. It had been horrid sitting beside Chita during the meditation. Did she have no soul? Then why would Asherah make her a chalice?
"You have seen Chita's totem." As if that explained it.
"But what does this have to do with Jake becoming king? He's natural born."
"The soul finds its berth in a human form by slipping through a momentary rift between the sacred and profane worlds. Even in natural born humans, the rift does not always occur. As with Lord Ardri. He cannot be king. He has no soul."
"Does it have to be during gestation? How can we create a rift?"
"The rift is created by the hieros gamos, the sacred coupling that brings on the heights of ecstasy."
"Sexual orgasm."
"Not the pathetic release we have found humans so consumed with. Your species' obsession with profane coupling leaves us dumbfounded. The ways of Samael are truly mysterious."
The horrible longing sensation began to creep over Durga again. "So what then, a super orgasm? Orgasm of orgasms?" There. That put the Empani back on track.
"The hieros gamos is the sacred coupling that brings on the highest heights of ecstasy."
"You said that."
It can happen at any time during gestation, but the optimal time is in the sixth month when the body is well formed and the time of confinement is limited."
"What about Jake? How can he obtain a soul?"
"There is a way, but it is more likely to destroy his spirit than to ensoul him."
"Why am I not surprised?"
"A settlement priest of Asherah knows the way." The Empani's energy was fading. It was coming to the end of its message, but Durga didn't understand.
"What priest? Where do I find her?" The Empani's skin looked tired. Durga had never seen it sweat before. But it had never brought a message from Asherah before.
"Lord Ardri must run the liminal gauntlet."
"What the shib is the liminal gauntlet? Where is the priest?"
The Empani shifted back to the shape of the musician and smiled. Then it disappeared.
The Coronation Feast
The first reaction to Durga's dress was decidedly negative. Her security detail was unhappy with the amount of space it took up. The two men were under Jake's orders to protect her, and the long trailing skirt made them have to stand too far away. She hadn't designed her dress with accessory guards in mind.
Getting into the lift, she and the guards had to gather the skirt in their arms so they could all fit. The poor men were red-faced with embarrassment. The unsophisticated settlement dwellers would probably rather battle raptors than carry silk taffeta for the Emissary of Sanguibahd.
She couldn't worry about their discomfort. "Captain Gordon, you will keep a distance when we're inside the hall."
The guard's frown deepened. "Lord Ardri has ordered me to protect you from those who would bother you in any way."
She softened her tone and touched his forearm. "You would intimidate the ambassadors and princes I must speak with. They will see you as Lord Ardri's agent, listening to words meant only for the Emissary."
At her touch, his red face turned purple. He seemed to struggle between his duty to protect her and his wish to ensure her comfort.
"No one can save me from bother, Captain Gordon, but if harm threatens I will be glad if you intervene." If the settlement priest were here tonight, Durga certainly didn't want Jake's guards listening to that conversation.
In the corridor Captain Gordon and his partner fell in behind her skirt's long train. She squared her shoulders to prepare for her entrance.
She had been so naïve. Showing the world she was no longer a child was the furthest thing from her mind. Her challenge now was to find a priest of Asherah who knew about the liminal gauntlet and to come up with a way to forestall Garrick's protest.
Also, how do you tell someone they have no soul?
Garrick didn't care about Jake's soul, but Durga did. The Empani had been right. On the Great Chain of Being, a soulless human would be the lowest of the low. Useless in the sacred effort to replenish the earth with—souls! Jake had to acquire a soul or he would lose everything he'd worked for.
"Durga, Emissary of Sanguibahd!"
She swept into the room in her most imperious manner. This was what people craved. Pomp. Ceremony. A fixed Great Chain of Being where everyone knew their place. Her place was at the top. She was the bridge to the goddess. Durga knew all about the glory. Now it was time to claim the power.
The guests gathered in the antechamber outside the dining hall went stone silent. Two delegates began to come forward eagerly, but Captain Gordon stopped them with a look.
Durga suppressed a smile. The guards had been a good idea after all. She recognized the delegates by their city symbols, a harp for Hibernia and a Tsuga cone for Ithaca. She would let them thank her for their charters later.
As she crossed the room to Char and Jake, she scanned for the green robes of a priest of Asherah. There was no one
like that in the awestruck crowd. It wasn't her gown that mesmerized them. People tried not to stare at her hair and tattoo much more than they tried not to stare at her dress.
Jake and Char were much too happy. It was a bit off-putting. Durga accepted Char's outstretched hands and kissed her on both cheeks. "It's so good to see you again."
Char's eyes practically popped out of her head at the Empani greeting.
"No, no!" Durga said. "Sorry. I'm the real Durga. Believe me."
"You look enchanting," Char said. "You could be an Empani."
"Beautiful," Jake said. "Every man in this room is wishing he were eligible for a chalice."
Char elbowed him in the ribs.
"Oh, shib." Jake's cheeks turned pink. "Was that a sacrilege?"
"It was lecherous," Char said. "And creepy."
"You made my evening, Jake," Durga said. "I'm afraid everyone still sees me as the girl chosen by the goddess."
"No, little warrior." Char held Durga's hands out and admired the dress. "Not a chance."
"I'll try to believe it. And Char, you definitely fall into the stunning category."
Char's hair was in a French braid with tiny pale pink silk orchids scattered throughout, a dramatic contrast against its deep red. Durga was always comforted when she saw Char's hair. Asherah no longer had a use for Char and had let her go, but the blood-red hair was a reminder: Someone else in the world knows what it's like.
Char's dress was an elegant pale pink satin sheath with long sleeves and no back.
"Stunning. That's what I said." Jake had such a goofy puppy-dog face, there was no chance he'd fall for someone else. He hadn't even commented on the fact that Faina had stayed in Corcovado.
Durga was already starting to feel better just being in the same room with these two friends. Jake tilted his head at her and said, "What is it?"
"Nothing." This wasn't the time or place to talk about it. Jake was no different. She'd thought he'd be different. She could go into a light trance to see what he felt like, but it seemed like that would be an outrageous breach of something. Bad manners, at the very least. Not to mention she was afraid to try it.
"You look very pretty too, Jake." She stood on her toes and kissed his cheeks. He'd always been like a father to her—or at least a big brother. Until Faina's confession, it had never occurred to Durga that Jake was so attractive. He had the good looks and commanding manner of a king.
She spotted Magda with Geraldo. He had finagled his way into Faina's place in the delegation. They were talking with the demanding man and the conciliatory woman from Versailles. The man didn't look any less furious, and the woman didn't look any less concerned. In any protest, they were sure to take Garrick's side.
Durga had to give Geraldo credit for nerve. Whatever had gone awry for Versailles, she was sure Geraldo had something to do with it. There he was, smiling and chatting up the people he had wronged, as innocent as a white top.
"I heard that Versailles beat the Monster here by four hours." She looked around for the musician. "They were only an hour ahead of us to start. I barely had time to dress and get down here."
"Hibernia is hoping for a commission," Jake said. "But if I were you, I'd tour Ithaca's new clipper ship tomorrow after the fog burns off."
Durga surveyed the entire room again to be sure, but the musician wasn't here.
"Jake has had that romantic gleam in his eye since the moment he saw that ship," Char said. "I do believe sail will be his city's preferred mode of transport."
Maybe the singer wasn't going to play until after dinner. "I love my room, by the way. It's like something out of a fairy tale."
Char and Jake smiled at each other as if she'd told a joke.
"Prince Garrick of Garrick!"
Simultaneously, Durga and Char and Jake all said, "Oh. I need to warn you about—"
"Something." Jake finished the sentence, a queasy look on his face. He nodded toward Prince Garrick coming into the hall.
Garrick was a few inches shorter than Jake and had dark natural red hair. He was so bulked up, it looked wrong. Enhancements had been banned after the cataclysm, but what else would explain those muscles? Unlike the hard lines of the musician's muscular jaw, Garrick's had a softness that clashed with his physique.
A Samaeli priest was at his side.
"Great Asherah." Durga's stomach reeled. "Maribel."
"Yeah," Jake said. "That was it."
That explains it.
"She came in last night with Garrick," Char said. "Something's going on that she's not talking about. I'm sure it isn't good."
"You're right," Durga said. "It isn't good."
So this was how Garrick had found out about Jake. Maribel had always been better than any of them at trance. She had always been a little afraid of Jake too. She must have figured out the soul thing ages ago.
Durga frantically scanned the room again. "Is the settlement priest of Asherah here?"
"I haven't seen her," Char said.
"She was invited," Jake said. "Looking for a priest fight?"
"Something like that."
Prince Garrick headed their way while Maribel joined Magda and the Versailles people. Magda hugged her with surprised joy, but the smile froze when she saw the look on Durga's face. She nodded very slightly. Message received: tread carefully.
Prince Garrick gave a nod to Jake and Char and reached for Durga's hand. "Emissary."
She didn't need Captain Gordon. She stopped Garrick with her own icy stare. For years, she had spun countless threads against chaos. By Asherah's command and for the sake of humanity, she'd worked to build a new world order. She had always thought everyone else wanted the same thing.
She had been so naïve.
Garrick didn't give a shib about Jake's soul; they simply wanted him out of the way. The objection to his kingship was a power grab, a move to put a Garricker in Jake's place, make the settlement a Garrick satellite, then go on to the next settlement, then the next.
The prince continued talking as if Durga hadn't cut him. "At last I get to see the famous hair. As you may guess, I am partial to a redhead. On your first visit to Garrick, you left before I arrived."
"The smell was too much for me."
He giggled. Now that was creepy.
"Lord Ardri. Allow me to congratulate you on the settlement. Well done. I will order my people to build raptor cages the minute I return to Garrick. Brilliant idea."
The condescension was a bit thick. Durga had more experience than this guy did, and Jake had infinitely more. Prince Garrick looked less than twenty-five. She doubted he'd ever worried over a responsibility in his life.
"And the hydroponics building." He turned on Char. "My poor neglected city is still waiting for your services, Lady Charybdis. When we want fresh, we have to order out."
"Which you can afford," Char said. "My waiting list is set according to need."
"Quite." Irritation flickered over the prince's face and disappeared. He was obviously used to getting what he wanted when he wanted it. "Lord Ardri, when I couldn't find you today, I took it upon myself to tour the commons. Impressive. I was puzzled by something. I saw plenty of half-cut stone lying about, but not one mason. The hydroponics facility was practically deserted. Are you sure you have enough people here to qualify for a city?"
Jake said, "I've declared a holiday for the workers while you poobahs are in town." Durga could believe Jake would do such a thing, but she got the feeling that Jake was hiding something. Char's face was a blank.
Prince Garrick shook his head. "Holidays beget holidays. This isn't the right time for workers' rights and coddling."
"Speaking of my workers, let me thank you for Garrick's coronation gifts," Jake said. "The kitchen is in a tizzy."
"The kitchen?" Durga said.
"A complete set of stainless steel pots and pans and knives," Jake said. "A gift that only a city of wealth and technology could produce."
"So unlike the tacky gold jewel-encruste
d crown from Luxor with its companion everyday-wear gold circlet," Char said.
"It was nothing." Garrick wrinkled his nose. "I am told that you make a point of feeding your commoners every day from your own stocks. I thought you should have some tempered steel to put your stews in."
Durga understood if Jake did not. Garrick meant the gift as a joke.
"I'm sure the cagers and masons would like to thank you too," Jake said. "After their holiday."
"Khai, Prince of Luxor!"
Thank Asherah. Durga wanted to talk to the Prince of Luxor about the Team of Inquiry before Versailles got to him. Magda had said he had integrity, and that was good enough for Durga, but it never hurt to meet with someone personally to ensure they understood things from the proper point of view.
Durga gasped. Everybody gasped.
The scion of Luxor was tall and dark, but he wore so much gold that all the candlelight in the room reflected off him like a halo. Earrings, necklaces, wristlets. Hammered gold bands on his bare biceps had dagger designs plunging toward his elbows. His tunic was of sky blue cloth interwoven with gold threads.
A ceremonial dagger, the symbol of Luxor, hung from his gold belt. Its handle, guard, and blade were carved from a single red carnelian stone.
He wore his black hair close at the top, then falling down his back in a cascade of thin braids decorated with more gold, lapis lazuli and carnelian beads, emeralds, rubies, and sapphires. A plain gold circlet rested just above his eyebrows.
Dark, expressive eyebrows. One of which he raised inquisitively as he spotted Durga.
The musician.
He came to her as if she were the only other person in the room. In the world.
"Luxor." Prince Garrick brightened, as if he'd found someone worth talking to.
“Emissary.” The scion of Luxor brushed past Garrick to take Durga's hand, and she allowed it. His touch sent a rippling shock through her body and set her on fire. It happened so fast, she forgot to control herself.
With a smile he pressed his lips against the back of her hand, and she found herself returning the smile. He gave her hand a friendly squeeze before letting go. The intimacy of it left her delighted – and truly afraid. She ached to feel his touch again.