The rock drops away before him. In a crater, about five feet deep, sits a man. His hair is the same colour as the ground and so long it reaches the small of his back. Satori cannot see the man’s face from where he stands, but he can see shoulders and arms, sculpted with muscle. Satori skirts around the edge of the crater. He wants to see the face human, angel or demon before he gets too close.
As he comes around to the side of the man and catches a glimpse of his profile the face turns and looks back. His skin, a deep golden-brown, shimmers. His nose is straight and proud and his square jaw looks strong with a slight cleft to the chin. The stranger’s eyes are the colour of the sky: a deep violet. The man is at least a foot taller than Satori. On his feet he wears sandals; other than this he is naked.
Satori looks away, embarrassed that he is staring. ‘I’m sorry,’ he says. ‘I’m searching for someone and I smelled your cooking. I’m Satori.’
‘Satori,’ the voice is deep and musical like a cello.
Satori forces himself to regain eye contact. ‘Yes. Do you think I might share your meal? I feel weak from hunger.’
‘Weak?’
‘That’s right. You do understand me, do you?’
‘Your name is Satori and you are hungry. I am not familiar with the word weak,’ the man says. ‘But you are welcome to share my lunch.’
Satori nods. Weak, why would you know the word? ‘You’re very kind. May I ask your name?’
‘Gabriel,’
Satori glances at the chiselled stone pot resting on the fire. He sees no fuel, no wood or coal burn beneath. The flames appear to be magical. Inside the pot a green broth bubbles. ‘What are we having?’
‘Crupta.’ Gabriel blows the soup. His breath makes the liquid swirl about as if it is being stirred by a great spoon.
Satori’s stomach growls.
‘You are hungry, my friend,’ the man says, smiling. He picks up a bowl shaped rock and dips it into the broth. ‘Eat, enjoy.’
Chapter 19
Star stretches her limbs. Her back protests and her stomach burns with pain, but the earth feels cool and soft beneath her shoulders and buttocks. Her face and torso are warmed by the air above.
On the edge of her perception she hears whispers. The sounds are too quiet for her to make any sense of them. She wonders whether they are language or simply a breeze rustling branches.
Sinking her fingers and heels into the soil, she feels connected as if this place is part of her and she is part of it. Energy swells from the ground and tingles through her fingers. Her arms buzz and shake. Concentrating on lying still, she imagines her fingers are roots drawing strength from the soil.
Her heart kicks her ribs. A heartbeat? How long since I felt blood pumping through my veins? Her pulse throbs at her torn breast and the chasm inches below her bellybutton. Agony makes her pant and grind her teeth. Focusing on breathing as deeply as she can, she pushes fear and pain out of her body concentrating on healing herself and becoming stronger.
She imagines she is Satori, sitting cross-legged on his bed, breathing in through the nose and out through the mouth. She emulates his absolute calm and repeats in a whisper, ‘Wounds heal, wounds heal.’
Her agony lessens and becomes a continuous low hum like white noise. Other sensations move to the foreground of her consciousness. She becomes aware of her hard and heavy breasts, full of milk, straining behind leaking nipples. Her arms and legs feel atrophied, insubstantial in comparison to the heaviness of her head and torso. A goddess figurine made of clay, her fertile body huge. The limbs which might propel her from this space are absent. Continuity is her gift and her curse. Her power comes from accepting what is and what must be. Her body nurtures. It gives life and takes energy from the earth. She is part of nature even if she cannot yet accept her infant as natural. In spite of this she feels connected to the monster, responsible for ensuring it lives and grows. She wonders whether her love could change its essence and thwart Lilith’s purpose. She must talk to her baby, her son, teach it and sacrifice herself to it so it might love her back and repay her kindness with devotion.
Bible stories replay in her mind. Her mother’s patient voice instructs Sarah about how to be good and the consequences of sin. Now she must believe the words, absorb them and regurgitate them for her own child. Teach him shame and guilt in the hope that it will take root inside him and guide him away from evil. Sarah must purge him of Lilith’s corruption. She must show him gentleness to wear away his cruelty and yield to his demands to show him the value of selflessness.
Sacrifice myself for a child I never wanted, a child inflicted upon me by lies and magic? Why should I? Because I am his mother? Because new life has more value than the old life which bore it? He frightens me. He tears at my flesh. I am terrified of what he is and what he will become. Nurture him? This is madness. Why would I even think I have a duty to that thing? It is an abomination. The monster sickens me. I must get away from here before my will is absorbed by him.
Chapter 20
As the first drop of liquid hits Satori’s lips he feels cold. His body shivers, his damp hair sticks to his face. He opens his eyes and sees his room.
‘Fuck!’
He closes his eyes again, willing himself to return to the white rock and purple sky of Yesod. His body shakes with the effort, but the cramps in his stomach are stronger than his desire to return. They will not be ignored. Pulling clothes onto his body as he stumbles across the room, he heads for his door. Daylight glares through the landing window. He feels exhausted. He tries the bathroom door, but it is locked.
‘I won’t be long, Love,’ Marian’s voice calls.
His back bent and his arm tight around his pleading stomach, Satori lurches downstairs to the kitchen. Eyes half open he uses his lashes to soften the blow of morning sunlight. He scans the room for food, trying to decide what would sate his appetite. He opens the breadbin, unwraps a loaf of bread and bites into it. It tastes delicious. He pushes the loaf between his teeth again and again, barely chewing in his eagerness to swallow. His shoulders bounce as his gut revolts in a violent hiccup. The bread feels heavy in his belly but it quells the pain.
‘What are you doing?’ Marian asks as she walks into the kitchen.
Satori looks at her and back at the loaf in his hand. For a moment he doesn’t understand the question. ‘I was hungry.’
‘But the whole loaf, Love?’
‘Huh, oh sorry,’ he says stuffing more into his mouth.
‘What’s wrong with you?’ she asks, crossing the room. She places her palm across his forehead. ‘You’re not hot…Let me make you something, Love. Put that bread down. I’ve got half an hour until I have to leave for work. Shall I make you some eggs?’
‘Yes please.’
‘Get yourself a coffee and sit down, darling. I’ll sort it out now. What are you doing today? Maybe you should stay in, relax.’
‘When do I ever go out, Mum?’
Marian snorts. ‘I know. I worry, you know that don’t you. I know you loved her, but…’
‘Let’s not, Mum.’
Marian nods and breaks three eggs into the pan. The fat sizzles as the eggs stretch across the hot surface. She ruffles their yolks with a fork.
Satori inhales the aroma. He wonders for a moment how the crupta would have tasted and whether it could have satisfied his hunger. He guesses not. He believes the moment his body tried to consume the food he had to return. He understands a new rule. That’s three so far: time and space are not constant, speed of travel depends on clarity of purpose, and food and presumably drink may not be consumed.
‘There you are,’ Marian says, placing a plate of scrambled egg in front of Satori. ‘Don’t forget, you need the bathroom, and call me on my cell-phone if you start to feel ill, okay?’
‘Sure Mum, thanks.’ Satori picks up his fork and starts shovelling the eggs into his mouth. He hears his mother sigh before she leaves the room.
When his plate is empty he returns to t
he bread. He eats more slowly this time aware of the churning of his stomach as it starts to consume the food. When he feels full he stops eating. Picking up his mug, he downs a cup of coffee then swills the cup under the cold tap, watching the dark sludge of coffee dust and water edge down the bone white slope and into the sink. He refills the vessel with water and drinks it with greedy gulps. His skin itches and he feels edgy, unable to settle. He has eaten and he has drunk. What else? His bladder spasms in answer and he hurries to the bathroom.
Comfortable in his body at last he considers trying to return to the otherworlds straight away. His hand feels empty. What did I lose? He remembers losing Freya at the cliff, the cusp between worlds. I should probably check whether she is okay, but I don’t know her mobile number. Should I phone Ivan? I imagine Ivan wouldn’t approve of me dragging his sister to the planes and then leaving her stranded. Satori shrugs and dials Ivan’s number.
‘Yes,’ Ivan says.
‘Hi Ivan.’ Satori tries to sound upbeat. ‘Can I speak to Freya?’
‘You sound weird, Satori. You on something?’
‘No, it’s my telephone voice. Is Freya there?’
‘Why do you want to speak to my sister?’
Satori is silent.
‘Look Bro, you’re my best friend but we both know the way you operate. I don’t particularly like the thought of you seeing my sister and I really don’t appreciate you encouraging her to mess around with magic. I think I’ve made my point. I’ll see you tomorrow and find out how you’re getting on, but don’t try to contact Freya.’
‘Ivan! Wait! Would you at least check on her? Make sure she’s okay.’
‘What the fuck have you done? If you’ve hurt her…’
‘No, no, of course not. Just check okay? I’ll see you tomorrow.’
He disconnects the call. ‘Shit!’ He hopes Freya is okay. Chances are she’s fine. What if she’s still falling? No she’s fine. There’s nothing I can do anyway. I can’t get close to her house and if I did… Neither of us need that sort of complication.
The doorbell rings. Who is it? Donna again? The police? He considers ignoring it, but it could be anyone. As he walks along the hallway he sees himself opening the door and a fist connecting with his face. It’s no worse than he’s already been through. Be a man, he tells himself. Open the fucking door.
He grabs his keys and unlocks the dead lock. He decides against the chain. He’s not a coward. Whatever it is he’ll face it.
Freya stands shivering in the doorway. ‘I thought you’d never answer.’
‘Freya, how are you? Oh shit. I just spoke to Ivan and asked him to check on you. I’m sorry.’
‘He’ll phone if he’s worried,’ she says. ‘Maybe you should take my number.’ She pushes past him into the hallway.
‘I don’t think you should be here, Freya,’ Satori says at last.
‘Why? You can’t be scared of my brother.’
‘Not him, no. But your father would kill me.’
‘That’s true,’ she says. ‘He needn’t find out though.’ She wanders into the living room and sits down.
Her face, turned up towards him, looks fragile and beautiful. He has to remind himself that she is far from fragile. If anyone needs protecting here it isn’t her.
‘Coffee?’ he asks.
‘Yes please.’ She puts her bag on the floor beside her booted feet. ‘I just wanted to see you. Check you were okay.’
Satori nods and heads for the kitchen. He hears her footsteps behind him. Her warm breath tickles his ear.
‘I saw you looking at me,’ she whispers.
A shiver passes through him. His skin prickles, his breath becomes shallow. She smells wonderful. His hands shake as he pours the coffees. Passing one to Freya he smiles in a way he hopes will look casual, almost dismissive.
She presses her index finger against one of the buttons of his shirt. ‘I know how you feel. I feel it too.’
He shakes his head and gulps his coffee. The liquid scorches his throat and he pulls a face. ‘But you said…’ He recovers his sense of balance. He looks into her lovely face, smiling expectantly. ‘Freya, we can’t…’
‘Why? Because of my father?’
‘No, because I’m in love with Star.’
‘That didn’t stop you shagging Raven.’
He feels a stab of pain followed by hot anger. His fist clenches and he closes his eyes.
‘I’m sorry,’ she whispers. ‘I shouldn’t have said that. Forgive me.’
‘Maybe you should go,’ he growls.
‘No, I don’t think I should,’ she answers.
‘I can make you leave.’
‘Or you can really teach me a lesson.’ Her voice is soft, pleading almost.
‘You really are desperate, aren’t you? Ivan not giving you any?’ That was cruel. He enjoys the effect it has on her. Her face seems to fold in on itself for a moment before she recovers.
‘No, he isn’t,’ she replies. ‘Yes I know. I’m sick. But aren’t we all?’
He has no answer. He knows his own heart and knows she is right, about him at least. How many times have I been overwhelmed by a desire I know is self-destructive? Too many to count. Tears wet her soft cheeks and her arms wrap around her chest. He wants to comfort her, but he knows where it will lead. Part of him wants that: to lose himself in this girl’s arms for a few hours. He could pretend it would help her, help them both, but he knows this is a lie.
‘I’m sorry,’ he tells her.
‘So am I. Maybe you’re right. Maybe I shouldn’t have come here.’ Freya wipes the tears from her cheeks with her sleeve. She blinks. Her eyes look dry and cold.
‘No, I’m wrong. Thank you for your help yesterday. I found my way. I couldn’t have done it without you. There is no excuse for what I said.’
‘I’m glad I could. I admire you, Satori. What you’re doing. What you’re willing to give up. I wish I could be so strong. Let me come with you.’
‘I promised your brother I wouldn’t.’
‘I won’t tell him.’
‘It isn’t like that, Freya.’
‘Tell me. What is it like?’
‘I have to do the rest alone,’ he tells her.
‘You can’t. I - I have something you need.’
He looks at her. What does she mean? Is she talking about sex again? He doesn’t think so. What could she possibly have? ‘What?’
‘The dagger…’
‘My dagger? The one…’
‘Yes. I found it. It’s in my sacred space.’
‘But how, why?’ he asks.
She is silent.
He searches her eyes for the answer, but finds only sadness and shame. He guesses the answer. ‘Lilith?’
Freya nods. ‘I was going to return it to you. Everything was so messed up when I got home last night. Did you hear about Donna?’
‘What about Donna?’ Satori’s stomach clenches.
‘She’s in hospital,’ Freya says.
‘Why didn’t you say before?’
‘I don’t know.’ Freya keeps eye contact with him. Her eyes flash with pain and anger.
‘What happened? Was she attacked?’
‘A fire. They say she’s dying, Satori.’
‘No! I have to see her.’
‘They won’t let you. She’s too weak. They’re not letting anyone see her.’
Satori sinks to the floor. All he can do is wallow in self pity. He holds his hands over his face to hide his tears. He feels Freya’s hand on his shoulder. She kneels beside him. He grabs her face and pulls it towards his own. Her cheeks dry his tears. Her lips tell him everything will be okay. He is lost and he knows it.
She whispers his name, but he closes his mind to her voice. He doesn’t want to hear only to feel. Her fingers work on his buttons and his shirt falls open. Her lips caress his skin. All he knows are her kisses. His nostrils are full of the scent of her. She tastes wonderful: like strawberries on hot summer afternoons. He closes
his eyes and sees her properly. She is the red-headed woman who stepped through the hole he created, she is Raven undressing him and making him feel whole again, and she is Star, the woman he adores, but never felt equal to. She is all this and Freya; innocent yet corrupt, held too tightly by the love of her family, protected from everyone except herself. Floundering in self-doubt and self-hatred, just like him.
He pulls her top over her head. Her tiny breasts bob as the material lifts them then lets them fall. She is braless and her hard nipples scream to be kissed. He answers their siren song with his tongue. She gasps and tugs at his hair. The floor is cold beneath them, but he is too afraid to move elsewhere. The spell that holds them both could too easily be broken. Leaning on his left shoulder he lets his other hand move down her body, stroking her stomach as it progresses. Her hold on his hair tightens. The pain is delicious. Every nerve ending in his body yearns to be touched, caressed, bitten and scratched. His fingers push under her panties. Her hair is silky. His hand snakes further and he feels the velvet softness of her labia and the small, hard mound of her clitoris. He pinches her and she moans. She pushes him onto his back and straddles his stomach. Her hair falls over her face, but he can see her smile. His hand still moves against her sex. The underwear is too tight. With a sigh he withdraws and uses both his hands to pull down her skirt and knickers. Her pubic hair is so pale it reminds him of the naked man for a moment. Then all thoughts except one are gone and he pushes his finger inside her.
Her face is transformed. Her lips part and her skin glows. Her body moves with and against his digit. He pushes another within her. She pants. Her face drops towards his and she thrusts her tongue inside his mouth. They are one, no space between them and aware of nothing except their desire for each other. He rolls her gently onto her back. She grabs for his jeans, pulling them down over his hips. He kisses her breasts again, then her stomach. She grabs for his cock, but he pulls away and moves further down her body. He kisses her hair and flicks the tip of her clit with his tongue then he bites. She shrieks then moans with pleasure again. His tongue searches inside her, tasting her richness. All he smells is her. All he tastes and understands is her desire. He bites her thighs and kisses her pubis. Time and space seem to move around them. They are in the kitchen then their bodies are spread across the white rock of Yesod then they return to his house again. Nothing seems real. She wraps his hair around her fingers and tugs him upwards across the landscape of her body. He feels he is travelling across a land full of mystery and magic. They kiss again and he is deep inside her, moving with the rhythm of their heartbeats.
Starblood Trilogy Page 30