“She doesn’t perform art. She lives in the world of art. Unluckily for the Azakamani, the art of war is her specialty. We spoke for several hours. Periodically, she would stop and stare at me with a little smile. I realized I had again dropped my defenses. At the end, she gave me a sweet kiss on the lips and told me she had become bored with Ithuriel and was looking forward to facing me on the battlefi...”
Josephine stopped, her mouth hanging open. “It was less than a month later when Kahmael made me Eden’s Theatre commander. I didn’t put that together until just now.”
“That is troubling,” Skillit said. “I know only Mac, David, and a few close to Kahmael knew you were going to get promoted.”
“How do you know that?” Josephine asked.
“Mac asked me if I thought you were up to the task,” Skillit replied softly.
Josephine looked at Skillit, shaking her head again. “Why, oh why, did you say yes?”
Josephine clasped her hands behind her back, staring at the sand, walking slowly. “If we were talking about anyone other than Kiena, I could write this off as serendipity. Is it really possible she knew I was being promoted? Was it just intuition or does she actually have spies that close to Ka? Was she reading his mind?” Josephine paused. “And now she’s sent me Marije, one of her million Hijabs. My first test. A test which I failed miserably. I’m sure she was selected because of her affinity to Glimarije. If it wasn’t for you, Skillit, I would have had no hesitation to be relaxed and alone with Marije. I would have turned my back to her, giving her an easy target. They would have probably slipped away before anyone found my body.”
For Skillit, this was a matter far beyond Marije betraying her personally. Eden’s Theatre commander could have been killed by one of Kiena’s expert assassins, a group of actors performing just another one of her perfectly orchestrated plays.
You would break my heart by taking my Josie from me? Just you wait until I find you, my poor little tan-skinned Nephilim. You evil little bitch. I’ll show you some heartbreak. Then I’ll feed you to Meshak. We’ll see if you can act your way through some real terror.
Marije sat against a small dune, watching the ocean spray glitter in the moonlight. She looked down the shoreline and thought she recognized her new friend, Brigettie. Walking with her was someone she did not recognize. From the build and posture, the individual looked like a male. Even in the bright moonlight, all she could see was black from head to toe. Clearly, he was someone who wanted to keep his identity secret. Probably one of her close bodyguard buddies, she thought to herself, noticing they were holding hands.
A couple minutes later, she saw two other shapes hastily walking up the beach. Skillit and Josie. How wonderful. Just who I wanted to see.
She waited until they were closer, and then stood to greet them. She smiled and opened her mouth to say hello.
“Show me the Swastika, you bitch,” Skillit shouted as she pointed to Marije’s heart. A hot, invisible knife sliced across Marije’s heart.
Marije doubled over like someone had kicked in the gut. Tears streamed down her face as her left hand grasped her heart. She tried to straighten but could not. Must escape. The ocean. Marije limped as fast as she could toward the waves. Drown yourself. That’s the only mercy you’ll ever receive in this world.
Skillit knew exactly how to force the Nazz to reveal themselves — surprise them and challenge them with unexpected wrath. As a result, at least one swastika in their chakaric system will light up like a beacon.
Skillit stared right at Marije’s heart chakara, but she did not see a swastika. The nice green glow of love and friendship in her heart was shattered and faded, revealing not a swastika, but a heart chakara covered with pits, scratches, and scars.
She watched in horror as a new, deep black slice scored across Marije’s heart.
Skillit had made that slice. She had made a mistake. A terrible mistake. One minute Marije’s heart was warm and caring. The next minute caring was replaced with pain. So many times, Skillit had seen the scratches, pits, and distortions that hate scored across an Angel’s heart.
Skillit’s job as a servant was to help an Angel heal. As much as Skillit was good at not reacting to this atrocity, it always left her angry that there could be monsters within Creation capable of attacking an Angel’s wonderful heart — capable of replacing love with anguish.
Skillit was now the monster. She desperately watched Marije sprint to the ocean. She turned to Josephine in search of what to do next. Josephine just stood there, mouth gaping, eyes wide open.
Skillit took off running after Marije. Marije dived under the waves. Skillit ran into the surf as far as she could, took a deep breath, and dived after her. Skillit was a great swimmer. Marije was not. Instinctively, Skillit grabbed Marije from behind, under her arms, and forced Marije to the surface. Marije screamed.
“Let me go. Let me go,” she shouted as she twisted and pulled, trying to break Skillit’s grip.
Skillit kicked hard against the water and a few seconds later her feet touched the sand, but Marije was strong. As soon as her own feet hit the ground, she twisted hard against her captor. She was not thinking clearly enough to devise a means of escape. All she wanted to do was break free and dive back under the waves. Maybe some large, carnivorous sea-creature would eat her and finally put this horrible life to an end. Only part of her mind realized it was Skillit who had her. Marije twisted hard, struck out again, and was able to connect her fist with Skillit’s nose.
“Let me go. You’re all the same. You’re just like fucking Karol. Why did I trust you?” Marije hit again, this time connecting with the side of Skillit’s head. Skillit, stunned, lost her grip. Marije broke free and took off down the beach in a sprint. She had no idea where she was going. She just ran.
An instant later, she collided into something — pure black — not something Celestial with a black color — something that was an absence of color — a creature with green eyes that carved a hole into the Celestial.
She fell into a terrifying nothingness.
She had run headlong into Meshak.
The Angirasa realm, en-route to the prison world judges
Emptiness and despair.
Standing at the precipice of emptiness and despair.
Marije realized she had hit some sort of membrane, a barrier, a protective web that kept a traveler from falling over an unseen cliff. But the membrane was malleable, compliant to her arrival, eager for her arrival, quickly allowing her to move through. She stared into an abyss. There, lay all her fears, all her hurts, all her sorrow, all her sins.
They all rose to the surface.
She screamed, but there was no sound.
She was falling. Terror ravished her. She could see the prison world judges staring at her. Awaiting her arrival. Eager for her arrival. Eager to show her all her flaws.
Tireless. Relentless. Pitiless.
Showing her all her flaws. For all eternity if need be. All her fears. All her hurts. All her sorrow. All her sins.
Marije knew she would never escape from that pit of emptiness and despair.
Timelessness.
Only emptiness and despair for all eternity.
Suddenly, another emotion touched her. Love. It seemed strange that love could find her in this desperate darkness. Yet she knew it really was love coming from hands that grasped her.
There were other emotions in those hands — panic, worry, regret.
The emptiness and despair quickly melted as if she were awaking from a nightmare. The sound of the ocean returned. Time returned.
Marije fell backward, landing on the someone who had grasped her tightly.
“I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” Marije heard the words hit her ears and realized it was Skillit who was holding her so tightly.
“I made a mistake. I’m so sorry.” Marije could hear the voice jumping, interrupted by the remorse that stopped breath.
Memory began to return to Marije’s mind, but the emotions
of just minutes ago did not. She remembered what Skillit had done. She remembered what Skillit had said.
“It’s okay sister. You did what you thought best,” Marije spontaneously said.
They were still lying on the sand, but Skillit had let go of Marije. Marije sat up and turned. Skillit was curled up on her side, her body shaking as she sobbed. Marije reached forward and gently stroked her hair, wondering if she had ever seen such remorse.
“She convinced herself you were a Nazz Nephilim assassin sent by Kuko Kiena to kill me,” Josephine said as she sat down beside Marije.
“What? Me a Nazz assassin? What a funny idea.” Marije stared at Josephine. She opened her mouth to speak but when she saw the seriousness on Josephine’s face, she could not think of anything to say.
Skillit’s legs were weak and she could not stop crying. They had to almost carry her back to her apartment.
“It was an Angirasa,” Josephine said as they helped Skillit walk. “His name is Meshak. He’s one of Brigettie’s…
“…he’s one of Brigettie’s good friends.”
Marije shivered as she remembered the emotions that had overtaken her. Fortunately, those same emotions did not return. It seemed strange, for when remembering a nightmare, the same emotions experienced within the nightmare can return with memory. In contrast, Marije felt pretty good.
“I’ve heard of the Angirasas,” Marije said just above a whisper. “It’s another one of those stories mean-spirited parents use to threaten their children. ‘If you don’t behave, Lakshmi will send an Etherial assassin. If you don’t do as I say, The Blind King will send one of the Terrible Angirasas.’ I have no idea what it feels like to be killed by an Etherial assassin, but I guess I just had a taste of what it’s like to be consumed by an Angirasa.”
MacKenzee saw the three walking down the path toward Bill’s. Blood was streaming from Skillit’s nose. He trotted forward to see what had happened. Josephine just shook her head, so MacKenzee said nothing, just walked ahead, and opened the door leading up the stairs to Skillit’s apartment.
MacKenzee could tell Skillit was upset. Having lived on Oceania for so long, he had seen plenty of distraught individuals. But only one time, right after she had arrived, had he seen the always cool, stable, and happy Skillit emotionally devastated, courtesy of a cad by the name of Lieutenant Collin Striker.
“Sit here sweetie,” Marije said softly as they led her to the edge of her bed. She sat down beside Skillit and tightly grasped her hand. Skillit looked up. Tears continued to stream down her face along with blood from her nose. “I’m not sweet. I’m just another monster. I’m just another…”
Her face collapsed. She bent over and began to sob.
Marije had no idea what to say. Evidently, Josephine had no idea what to say either, as she quickly walked to Skillit’s bathroom and came back with a poultice and a wet washcloth.
“Oh the arrogance. The pride-filled arrogance,” Skillit said to the floor, watching the tears and blood pool below her. “Oh the great and wonderful Skillit. So balanced. So even. So rational. The great understanding and kind Skillit. Never like those others who jump to judge. Never jump to persecute. Oh no. Not me. Never…”
Sobs overtook her again.
“Sit up sister. Let me clean your face,” Josephine said calmly.
Skillit obeyed. Josephine gently dabbed her face. “I’m going to check your nose. Okay?” Josephine waited for a few seconds to see if she would respond to the question. She did not, so Josephine gingerly felt along her nose to see if anything was broken.
“Your nose is fine, so I’m going to stuff your nostrils with a poultice to stop the bleeding.”
Skillit did not complain. When she finished, Josephine went back to the bathroom, rinsed out the washcloth, and continued to clean her face. MacKenzee returned with a large cup of hot tea.
“No. I don’t want any,” she said flatly.
“Sure, of course,” MacKenzee replied softly. He sat the cup on the bed stand and stood back, wondering what to do. In addition to the bloodied nose, there were marks on her left temple. He glanced at Marije’s right hand.
“Yeah, it was me who hit her,” Marije said quietly.
“Better late than never,” Skillit replied before MacKenzee could say anything. “Josie, why didn’t you just slap the shit out of me? Me raving like a madman like that. Why didn’t you just take my stupid freaking head off?” She held her head down and began to cry again.
“You’re so smart, Josephine,” she said to the floor. “But trusting me tonight had to be one of your biggest mistakes.”
Josephine knelt, resting a hand on her leg and kissing her softly on the cheek. She had no idea what to say. Skillit was always the mature one. Josephine, in fact, always trusted her much older aunt’s judgment, and that trust was always justified.
“Well, thank you for walking me home,” Skillit said to the floor. “But I’m feeling kind of low, so I’m going…”
“Sure,” Josephine said. “We’ll help you get to bed.”
MacKenzee, needing no more cues, quietly stepped out. Josephine went to the closet, got some pajamas, and with Marije holding her steady, helped Skillit change. Josephine pulled back the covers, fluffed the pillow, and sat her back on the edge of the bed.
“Drink this now,” Josephine said gently but firmly. Skillit obeyed and drank most of the herbal tea. As Josephine tucked her in, Marije went to the bathroom, and a minute later came out wearing a pair of Skillit’s pajamas.
“I’ll stay with her tonight,” she whispered to Josephine, then walked around to the other side and got in bed while Josephine turned down the lights.
The door closed and for a second Skillit thought she was finally alone. She felt very lonely, a loneliness that melted when mysteriously an arm draped over her and pulled her close. The owner of the arm said nothing, just held her tight. Still, Skillit knew it was Marije holding her.
Skillit’s heart was tearing. Please, oh please, Divine Mother. Please let her be an assassin, stab me in the heart, and twist the blade.
Marije could feel Skillit’s body shaking as she sobbed. She thought I was a Nazz assassin sent to kill Josephine? Marije thought to herself as she pulled Skillit closer. How interesting. I wonder if it’s true?
Chapter 75
Unexpected Outcomes
See? Told ya so. Unexpected. Good things can come from a mother’s cruelty. Still. That doesn’t mean it didn’t hurt like a bitch.
—Vilecia
Elysium
"Hello Erin. I hope your wounds are not serious.”
Doctor Brack briefly looked up from Vilecia’s buttocks and the second layer of cream she was applying. Vilecia was shocked to see Queen Amphitrite of Castile standing in front of her. Vilecia immediately straightened to greet the Queen properly.
“My Queen,” Vilecia bowed her head and spread her arms. “What an honor to see you again.” Then Vilecia felt a strong hand on her back pushing her down to the table.
“Ma’am,” he said politely, and then continued to tend to his patient. The Queen pulled up a chair and sat down in front of Vilecia, their faces on the same level. Vilecia felt rather awkward in this embarrassing position. She propped her head up with her arms so she could at least face the Queen. Amphitrite gave no indication there was anything unusual about the circumstances and continued to speak in her regal voice.
“I was so impressed with your Lieutenant Douglas Franziska’s behavior that I decided to help in the treatment of your brave Nazz warriors. It seems that breathing my prana into them while under operation is useful. So I have been doing that.”
Doug? Captain Rozner thought to herself. She froze.
“Yes, it was quite remarkable. Madame Kiena had only just introduced Lieutenant Franziska to my dear little Gwenith.”
Wow. Doug finally met Gwenith, Captain Rozner thought.
“Lieutenant Franziska was escorting Gwenith out of harms way when the attack began.” Queen Amphitrite p
aused a moment. “The Satanists.” Amphitrite turned her head, leaned over, and spit on the floor.
“A surprise attack against the Nazz is an acceptable act of war. But for a bastard like Cardinal Diocletian to intentionally shoot a sweet child like Gwenith in the back. And to have her be one of their first targets. It is an inconceivable atrocity. Only a monster like Ziminiz could have conjured such a diabolical act.”
“Gwenith was shot in the back?” Vilecia asked.
Gwenith was shot in the back? Captain Rozner thought to herself.
“Gwenith is dead?” Vilecia and Rozner asked as one.
I knew that the Caligastian royal family prided themselves on remaining cool under the most extreme circumstances. But this? Rozner thought. She sits there in casual conversation after her daughter was murdered?
A small smile came to Queen Amphitrite’s face as she looked at Rozner. “No. Gwenith is fine. Gwenith is fine because of your Lieutenant Franziska. It was a most remarkable thing.” Amphitrite shifted her attention back to Vilecia and began to recall the story.
Captain Rozner closed her eyes. There was no stopping the tears. She took a deep breath to steady herself. When she opened her eyes, the Queen was studying her. Rozner spoke. “Well, that would be Douglas through and through. He knew nothing of cowardice, and I know he was very fond of Gwenith. He talked about her all the time.” Rozner tried to smile. “It actually became rather irritating. I’m sure he died with a smile on his face knowing he saved Gwenith’s life.”
“Yes, he was wearing a smile when he fell over. Most remarkable,” she said softly, studying Rozner’s face. “It seems you were very close to the noble Douglas.”
“Yes. Noble. That’s the word. Thank you. My noble Doug.” Tears streamed down Rozner’s face. “He was one of my little brothers. My wonderful, noble little brother.”
Queen Amphitrite stood, straightening herself. “You see. I come from a very different culture. Within Castile, had an older sister lost a beloved little brother over someone who was not a wife or a fiancée, but only a crush, only an object of fantasy...” Amphitrite focused more intently on Rozner’s eyes. “...I am assuming they never met.”
Lilith: Eden's Planetary Princess (The Michael Archives Book 1) Page 62