by LK Rigel
In the meditation circle, Durga had been seized by the need to talk to Faina and set things right with all the chalices. The desire kept growing like an obsession, taking over her thoughts. It had been a while, but this felt like a compulsion sent by Asherah. She had to take care of it before heading to Garrick or she wouldn’t be able to think straight.
She put the runner down in its usual place below the dirigidock and instructed the guards to keep everyone away. On their way to the admin building, Jordana ran out to meet them. She held out her arms and spun around to display the dark pink gi top she was wearing.
“Congratulations!” Durga said.
“I know! I’m a cherry blossom!” Jordana had been planning to test for the next level of proficiency in her martial arts training. “Faina tested me this morning.” She performed a combination of kicks and punches, ending with a round kick/front punch and dramatic pose.
“Aiya! Very good.” Durga put down her bag and applauded.
“A dog!” Jordana’s eyes flashed blue fire at the sight of the pug in Khai’s arms. “For me?” Jordana shaded her eyes with her hand and looked up at Khai. “Hello.”
“I’m sorry, sweetie,” Durga said. “It’s a present to cheer Faina up. But I’m sure she’ll let you play with it.”
“Jake calls me sweetie.”
“That’s right, he does. Jordana, this is my friend, Prince Khai, the scion of Luxor. Where so much gold comes from. Would you show him where my suite is while I take the puppy to Faina?”
Durga traded her bag for the pug with Khai. He gave her a kiss on the cheek, and Jordana said oooh. Durga rolled her eyes and shook her head and went to find Faina. She could already hear the compound gossip: the Emissary has at last taken a lover.
But had she?
The admin building was too quiet. Faina wasn’t in any of the classrooms. They were empty. Durga found her in the Matriarch’s office, sitting at Magda’s desk. Crying, as usual. An odd wave of compassion washed over Durga, no doubt something from Jake’s emotions.
“Faina, my sister. I’ve brought you a present.”
Faina looked up from the letter she was writing. “Oh, Emissary. Chita is dead.”
Durga swayed and balanced herself against the desk with one hand. She found a chair and let the dog down on the floor.
“What happened?”
“She went into labor and everything went wrong. She lost too much blood.”
“The infant?”
“Alive. A girl.”
Chita’s proof of service. Oh, Chita! She’d been such a pain these last months, smug and insufferable. She was too young to get pregnant, but she didn’t deserve this.
“Faina, call the chalices to the assembly hall immediately. Changes are going into effect starting this minute.”
Durga left the admin building. She didn’t want to see Khai just now. She didn’t want to see anyone. She had to think for a few minutes before she addressed the chalices.
It was all so unfair.
She walked down to the grotto and out to the beach. It felt good to walk in the sunshine and listen to the surf, no fear of raptors. Corcovado was truly a paradise. A good old reliable white heron stared at her from a rock. Judgmental bird, strangely comforting.
This wasn’t right. Chita was a chalice. Promised long life, given a totem, blessed with fertility. Some blessing.
“You question me now, Durga? How unlike you.”
Asherah.
Durga threw herself on the sand at the goddess’s feet. “What do you want of me?”
“You usually ask that question with fervor. You usually ask that question really wanting to know the answer. Are you still my little warrior?”
Durga got to her feet. As usual, Asherah was dressed in two pieces of filmy, flimsy material held over her body by creatures on her shoulders. Today it was two little serpents. Her hair was half piled on her head, half falling in front of her face and around her shoulders. Her pouty little mouth was drawn tight, like she was planning something definitely not fun for Durga.
“Why did Chita die?”
“I smited that one. It was her fate. I don’t know why you’re so surprised. I tried to prepare you.”
“How did you do that?”
“Her totem. It’s a palm frond.”
“Yes?” Totem is. Totem was.
“The sign of the martyr. Don’t be sad, Durga. Chita didn’t have a soul. She would have done no good as a chalice. Yet she has served a purpose, and I have rewarded her. Her spirit is in Elysium.”
“What purpose?” There could be no purpose in such a death.
“You’re wrong. Chita was a warning the other chalices will understand. No chalice shall be gravid before eighteen years. What have they been thinking? A hundred years of procreation lies ahead for them! But they must wait until their bodies are fully formed.”
“Yes, Asherah.”
“Now listen. I have a revelation for you. I may not see you for a while. Don’t think it’s because I don’t love you. You are my chosen one.”
I’ll bet you say that to all the chosen ones.
“That’s my little warrior. Now, hear me and obey.”
The chalices accepted the New Revelation with more enthusiasm than Durga had expected. Of course they loved the idea of the auction and being paid and, best of all, having absolute power to say yes and no to the scions.
“There is a requirement,” Durga said, “that each chalice agree to three contracts for a total of six ensouled births before retiring. This should not be a problem, with a hundred years to complete the task. Of course Sanguibahd expects that most of you will want to engage in far more than three contracts.”
There was mixed reaction to being separated from the infants at birth. The non gravidas—the ones who had never been pregnant—had no problem it. The ones who had bonded with children were outraged.
“I have something to say on this.” Faina stood up, the puppy in her arms. Her sadness was heavy, like a cloud over the hall. “I miss Ranigita so much. Sometimes I think I want to die. I praise Asherah for this revelation. It’s wrong for us to fall in love with the infants. They don’t belong to us. They belong to their cities. You will all be so much happier if you never make the bond; then you will never have to break it.”
She sat down again and buried her face in the puppy’s neck.
Durga continued. “Totems will be revealed to each chalice during the Rites of May of her eighteenth year. You are commanded to refrain from gestation until then. No chalice may enter into a contract until she receives her totem from the goddess. She will keep her totem like a treasure in her pocket and tell no one what it is until successful completion of her first contracted gestation. Break this command upon pain of death.”
The soul ceremony, the hieros gamos, was the hit of the revelation. Everyone wanted to belong to the Team of Inquiry that would develop means and methods. Durga ended the assembly on that high note.
Faina met her at the door. “Emissary, may I speak with you?”
How convenient. “Let’s go back to Magda’s office,” Durga said. She dreaded talking to Faina about Jake, but it had to be done. “I’m sorry, Faina, but you will have to see Lord Ardri one more time.”
Durga left out the part about Jake being in a coma. Jake would recover, since this was all part of Asherah’s plan, and there was no need to add to Faina’s sorrows. “You will have to perform the hieros gamos for your current gestation.”
Perform the hieros gamos. It sounded so much more clinical than have the highest heights of orgasmic sex.
“Don’t worry about that, Emissary.” Faina handed Durga a letter. “I have missed the child more than I have missed Lord Ardri. You were right to separate me from him.”
Not convincing. But if that’s the story Faina wanted to tell herself, then who was Durga to question it? “What is this letter?”
“It is to Ranigita. I find I need something, a ritual to ease the pain of this separation. I’ve de
cided to send her my dagger and this letter, but I wanted your advice before I acted.”
Durga unfolded the letter.
My dear girl,
This dagger is my gift to you to symbolize our holy bond. As with many divine mysteries, our relationship is a paradox: our bond lives in our severance. We will never know each other, yet we serve Asherah equally. Our common purpose is the survival of the human race.
With unending love and affection, your breeder,
Faina of Sanguibahd
Faina opened a carved rosewood box lined with pink satin. It contained a dagger, the hilt designed to incorporate her lotus totem.
“Faina, I believe Asherah has spoken to us all through you.” Durga returned the letter. “I am certain this is a proper and consoling thing to do, for you now, and for Ranigita when she is older. The other chalices may wish to follow your example.”
Faina’s lovely eyelashes fluttered. Her blue eyes were even more jewel-like with tears in them, but now she smiled through the tears.
In the lift, Durga realized she was hungry. She couldn’t remember if there was anything good in her suite’s little kitchen. She and Khai could grab something from the bistro and eat in the runner on the way to Garrick. She wouldn’t mind showing him off.
“Khai?” He wasn’t in the antechamber, but their bags were on the floor by the étagère. “Khai?” He wasn’t in the kitchen. Jordana must have dragged him outside.
She pulled her dress out of her bag. Ugh. Wrinkles. She should have spread it out over a passenger seat on the flight down.
Despite Prince Garrick’s cool shibdabliness, he had been flustered by her appearance in this dress. Desire. Lust. Whatever its name, his emotions had thrown him off balance. Why not push the advantage? She gathered the dress up in her arms and went to the bedroom to change.
Khai was there, at the wall of windows, kissing—her. She was wearing the dress, and Khai was bent over her, one hand behind her neck and the other on her breast. She moaned and murmured I love you.
“Get out!” Durga thought she was going to be sick.
Khai jerked his head in her direction and back to the Durga he had been kissing.
“Get out now!”
He broke away from the Empani. “Durga?”
“Trust me, Khai. I’ll explain later. Go!” She closed the door behind him.
When she turned back to the Empani, it had shifted to Khai’s form. He went down on his knees. “Forgive me, Durga! I didn’t know. I thought it was you. I love you. I only want you, only you.”
She burst out laughing at the melodramatics. “Is that what I want, Empani? My deepest desire?”
Her laughter seemed to help the Empani find itself again. It shifted shape to the familiar Rani form, though missing its usual serenity. The Empani perspired, and its skin tone was off, a bit gray, and the SJ tattoo was blurred. Durga wanted to pat it on the shoulder, make it feel better.
“Don’t,” the Empani said. “Please don’t.”
“I guess it isn’t so good to see me today.” The Empani apparently didn’t get the joke. “What happened?”
“We were flying and felt a great longing for the Durga.” The Empani recovered at least well enough to manifest Rani’s proper skin tone. “We were compelled by the longing to come.” The disgust in the Empani’s voice was painful to hear.
“Why were you compelled? Who are the Empanii? What are you?”
“We are of Samael. Only Samael. We curse the day he created you.”
“You’ve said that before. But why?”
“Samael ordered us to adore his creation, but we cursed it. Samael cursed us in return. He cast us away, out of his sight, in bondage forever to human desires. This is our punishment.”
“I thought the Empanii were dying, but you’ve been hiding. Right?”
“Until we discover how to break the curse.”
“Why are you here? I just saw Asherah. Did she send you with another message?”
“The desire is strong in that one you called Khai. I could not resist his desire. His longing for you drew me down from the sky.”
Everything Dies In Garrick
Durga was deeply aware of Khai so close to her, inches away. She was also aware of the four Sanguibahd guards right behind them, sitting in the runner’s passenger seats. The runner was a great little flying machine, but it was certainly lacking in privacy.
She wanted to reach out and touch Khai’s forearm, reassure him … of what? Seeing him with the Empani had churned up so many feelings. Every time she looked at him, she felt more miserable.
His longing for you drew me down from the sky.
At the sight of Khai kissing someone else, she had wanted to die. Faina was right. It was no good to be bonded to another person. It hurt too much. Sure, Khai had thought he was kissing her. Her misery made no sense, but she couldn’t shake it.
She was Emissary of Sanguibahd. He was scion of Luxor. Their lives were not theirs to give to another person. She was duty bound to the goddess. That bond was inviolate.
He was duty bound to his city, to provide it with heirs, to continue the dynasty that made Luxor survive and would make Luxor a great city-state. Once he had provided those heirs, he would take a queen. Inevitably, someday, Khai would kiss someone else.
Maybe it would help if they talked about something other than themselves. “Did you have a chance to speak with Versailles at all?”
“The man Ansel is an idiot.” Khai answered immediately, as if he too had been trying to think of a safe subject. “Too caught up in making demands to state a plain case. But his sister has some sense. Apparently Geraldo did substitute a bagger. The chalice is innocent. The infant must have died en route to Versailles.” Khai shook his head and scoffed. “The supposed heir Geraldo brought to the city was Caucasian. The chalice was Asian. I knew Geraldo was mendacious, but I didn’t think he was stupid.”
Durga lowered her voice. “I’ve wanted to get rid of Geraldo for years, but he founded Sanguibahd, and he has connections and influence all over the world. Still, he may have gone too far this time.”
“It should be impossible even to attempt a switch like this,” Khai said. “There needs to be a procedure in the process that protects the cities. And the chalices. Their honor must be above reproach.”
“The world is becoming more complicated.” Durga sighed. Khai was right about politics. She had no stomach for it or interest in it. Or time for it. “If there were some kind of council of cities, I wouldn’t be flying up to Garrick now to demand Char’s release. A council could force Garrick to follow the laws.”
“My point exactly.” Khai put his hand on hers. She pressed the back of her hand against his palm.
“Look.” The instruments indicated they were ten minutes from Garrick. In the distance ahead, the sky was brown, and it grew filthier by the moment.
Within minutes they were above the city. A row of flashing lights guided Durga to a lighted circle on a tarmac where she put the runner down. Garrick was an ugly collection of old brown buildings, brown trees, black birds and brown clouds above. When it rained, it was probably brown rain.
“I think it smells worse than the first time I was here.” She pulled Khai close and said, “I am so glad you’re with me. Thank you for coming.”
“If my life was my own, I would never leave you again.” His lips found hers, and she melted into his arms. There was nothing chaste in his kiss. His entire body strained for her, she could feel it, and he moaned when she stroked his face.
“What if Asherah doesn’t want me to have a lover?” The question was as much for herself as for Khai. “I’m afraid of what she might do to you.”
“I am no fool, my lady. I fear the goddess. But my love is stronger than my fear.”
“Touching.” Prince Garrick appeared beside them, coming up out of a hole in the ground. “Truly.” His gaze traveled over Durga, taking in the great deal of skin her dress didn’t cover.
“I often think of
Garrick as hell on earth,” she said. “And then you appear as if from earth’s bowels to confirm the theory.”
“Clever girl.” The prince gave Durga a saccharine smile and acknowledged Khai with a nod. “Luxor.”
“Garrick.” Durga felt the controlled malice in Khai’s voice over her shoulder. There was no doubt he’d like to kill Prince Garrick right there—for insulting her if for nothing else.
Prince Garrick gestured to the moving stairs behind him. “Shall we get in out of the air?”
She and Khai followed Prince Garrick down below the city surface. In the corridors they passed several priests dressed in the brown robes of the Samaelii. Not one female. They came to a reception hall that gave her the impression of a throne room. Portraits of former Garrick CEOs lined one wall.
“Durga?”
Char was seated like Persephone visiting Hades, on a couch next to a raised throne-like chair. As Char stood up, Prince Garrick sat down in the throne chair. His self-importance would be funny if it weren’t so … not funny.
“Are you all right?” Durga said.
“Yes, but why are you here?” Char spotted Khai and looked back to Durga. Understanding spread over her face. “Why didn’t Jake come?”
“He went to the ashram, Char. He ran the liminal gauntlet.”
“No. No, he wouldn’t do that. Not without me.”
Durga took hold of Char’s hands. “He didn’t want you to suffer if something went wrong.”
“That’s crazy!” Char scoffed. Then her eyes grew large. “Something did go wrong.” She paled and sank down on the sofa.
Durga sat down with her. “I’m not so sure about that, Char. I was there. I was part of the circle that created the gauntlet. When I left him, he was in a liminal state. But I really think it worked. He’ll come out of it.”
“Why did you leave him?” Char asked, then slowly shook her head. “Of course. Because of me.”
“Lady Charybdis,” Khai said. “Forgive my bluntness, but why did you leave Lord Ardri to go with Prince Garrick?”