by McGill, Brie
It was insanity. It was commanding. It was the essence of every rock, every animal, every galaxy.
Dizziness swept over her.
She stood on a bed of fluffy clouds. A shimmering temple with bell-shaped golden towers glittered in the distance.
Ninkasi bounded through the clouds, each flying step long and exaggerated, bouncing through the air. She landed in a puff at the door to the temple, passing through a gilded arch.
The inner chamber of the temple had a circular construction; three doors on either side of her were locked. Colorful mosaic tile on the floor created an eight-pointed star by the interlocking of two squares. Sunlight poured through a round aperture in the dome’s peak, illuminating an ancient script carved into the length of the wall.
Ninkasi tiptoed through the temple, head tilted back in awe at the building, its beautiful detail, the gold and copper patterns in the dome, the repetition of the eight-pointed star throughout the building.
Wandering through the only door open to her, she exited through the back of the temple into a garden of clouds.
A blue cloud floated in the back of the garden several feet from the ground. A naked man seated in full lotus position rode the cloud, head tipped forward, long black hair covering his face.
Ninkasi noted the man’s exceptional physique.
In one hand, he clutched a tube with a golden mouthpiece, leading to a royal, jewel-encrusted hookah on the ground. The man’s sculpted shoulders heaved, and he exhaled a grandiose puff of smoke, further obscuring his face. He sat with a towering erection made of gold.
Ninkasi felt her body vibrate in resonance with the strange entity. Erogenous points on her body, points at her neck, at her hips, on her tummy, glowed like diamonds and emitted a sparkling light. The sparkles multiplied and twinkled until the white light consumed her, and she disappeared again.
She disappeared into whiteness, which melted into blackness, nothingness.
A tiny diamond in her chest sparkled, emitting crystal beads of light. She was alone.
A second twinkle of light appeared beside her: she saw no bodies, no physical form, but sensed the light of a human heart.
She knew that light instantly—her mother. Ninkasi floated automatically toward the light.
Her own light combined with the other speck of light in a noncorporeal embrace, and she knew the feeling, indefinitely, always, Mother. She remembered—this is what she knew, what she had always known, the choice she made.
Long before either were born, they had chosen this relationship; she had chosen her mother.
Her mother chose her. The love they felt for each other was incredible, beyond anything humanly comprehensible. It was a universal, magnificent, timeless, inseparable, unbreakable, spiritual love. It was the highest vow of swearing to protect one another, to care for each other. It was a bond of love so strong that Ninkasi was permitted to enter this world through her.
She remembered it all, everything, from the beauty in crafting her origin to the sacred place where souls meet outside of life, and wept tears of joy.
Orion fought his way through leather-clad dancing worshippers. Some knelt and vomited; others lay on their backs, laughing at the moon. He heard the grunts, slaps, and wheezing of a distant group tangled in orgy.
Orion spat. Did Aleister never tire of this nonsense?
Ninkasi was easy to spot in her bright pink gown, a shimmering heap at the edge of the forest, like a spring blossom. She lay on her side, face in the dirt, curled into fetal position, oblivious to the madness surrounding her.
He smelled her from across the field, the pungent, unmistakable scent of fresh blood.
Rushing over to her, he knelt beside her, clenching a fist. If Aleister drugged her—
She appeared to be sleeping, dreaming, her features tranquil.
“Ninkasi.” He touched a gloved hand to her face, brushing the dirt from her cheek. He especially loved the look of the pink dress against her olive skin, her dark hair.
Her hand locked around his wrist, but her eyes remained closed.
“Are you unharmed?” He stroked her face, noticing the scratches on her arms. “Can you hear me?” The smell of her sweat, her blood, her body, the sound of her beating heart, the perfume in her hair—she was like a warm morsel of fresh sugar cookie, impossible not to want to touch, to taste.
She groaned, rolling her head from side to side.
He dusted the dirt from her shoulders, plucked leaves from her hair. “Ninkasi.”
Her eyes fluttered open, pupils wide like black holes. “Your mask.” She lifted a hand to his face, grabbing the long beak of a pink flamingo-feathered ballroom mask, and tugged. “It’s. . . unsightly.” She curled her lip.
Lifting a hand to her hand, he prevented her from pulling the mask away. “It’s unsightly when you don’t hold your tongue.” She had little wrists; he liked small wrists, dainty wrists he could pin together with one hand.
She released her grip, snapping the mask against his face. “You can hold it for me.” She shut her eyes and smiled.
Orion bit his lip. “The nights are cool. It’s best if you return to the chateau.”
“I’m sick of the chateau.” She rolled onto her side. “I’ll sleep here.”
He admired her curving hips, the length of her neck, the way the rippled silk clung to her body like wet fabric. He shut his eyes and took a deep breath. “How did you get outside?”
She fell on her back, erupting with a peal of laughter, clutching her stomach. She widened her eyes. “I escaped!”
Sitting on the rock beside her, he crossed his arms. “Now that you’ve escaped, what do you plan to do?”
Ninkasi pushed herself into a seated position, supporting herself with both arms behind her back. She looked at the trees and smiled. Balance teetering, she collapsed on her side, laughing again. “Won’t you stop me?”
“I suppose not.” He glanced over his shoulder.
She dug her nails in the ground, eyes tearing. “I’m not sure what I would do” —she doubled over, pushing her forehead into the dirt— “if a flamingo thwarted my plans!”
Orion knelt on the ground, knees crunching against twigs and leaves, and helped her into a seated position. “You’ve been drugged.”
Ninkasi splayed fingers across her face, shoulders bouncing with laughter. “That little goat boy got me when I wasn’t looking.” She wiped the tears from her eyes. “But I’m fine.”
He climbed to his feet. “Can you stand?”
“Of course I can stand.” Ninkasi pushed herself up, wobbling. “I’m not a toddler—” Taking a step forward, she stumbled.
Orion caught her in his arms, one hand around her waist, the other beneath her arm. Her flesh was smooth and hot beneath his gloves.
He felt an openness, a receptiveness, a delirious giddiness inside her—the drugs.
Collapsing into him, she wrapped her arms around his neck.
He stiffened, feeling a burning inside him.
“Really, Orion, it’s been great.” She grabbed the mask by the beak and snapped it against his face. She leaned away drunkenly, and gave him a goofy smile. “But I have to go.” She staggered away, tromping toward the trees, zigzagging into the forest. “There’s no one—” She tripped. “No one to pack my little brother’s lunch—”
He stared at the ground, and reached into his fur-lined coat to light a cigarette, inhaling furiously. “Where do you plan to go?”
“I can walk.” Ninkasi crashed into a tree. “Until I find a road, a. . . What’s the word?” She pointed at him. “A depot.”
Orion followed her. “There are no roads.”
“You’re lying.” She sank against the tree.
“Have a look around.” He tugged at a hanging cedar bough. “Do you think you’re in Jambu?”
She hugged her arms into her chest. “It is cold.”
“You’re on an isle.” He stood over her, and leaned against the tree. “No one dares to travel here,
except for crazy fucks like Aleister. There are no roads. There is nowhere to escape.”
Ninkasi dug in the dirt with a stick.
“I would let you wander until you believe me, until you are content.” Orion crouched beside her. “I can find you, wherever you go.” He slipped a finger beneath her tracking bracelet, and held her wrist. “But not after nightfall. There are wolves and coyotes here.”
She frowned. “So I’m your prisoner?”
Orion gritted his teeth. “I’m protecting you!”
Her eyes fell on the ground. “You’re protecting your interest.”
He slammed a hand against her chest and pinned her to the tree.
Ninkasi sat frozen, eyes wide.
Orion felt her pounding heart. She felt so warm, so tender, so delicate; he could easily reach inside her glowing body and crush her beating heart. He removed his hand, and looked away. “Fine.” He stood up, and puffed his cigarette. “Get eaten by the wolves.” He walked away.
“That’s it?” Ninkasi pushed herself up against the tree. “You’re leaving?!”
He continued to walk.
Leaves rustling beneath her feet, Ninkasi stumbled unevenly after him. She grunted softly, falling and landing in the dirt.
Orion glanced over his shoulder. “You’re coming inside now?”
“You should take me inside.” She extended a hand.
He helped her to her feet.
She wobbled toward him, grabbing a fistful of his coat. “Carry me.” She looked at him with pleading, glassy eyes, otherworldly pupils. “For old time’s sake.”
He smiled in spite of himself and outed the cigarette. Scooping her off the ground, he took her in his arms.
Ninkasi buried her head in his chest and clutched his coat. “It smells like you.”
He strode toward the chateau. “What does?”
She gave a soft laugh. “The forest floor.”
He didn’t want to smile. She was out of her mind and common sense would strike in the morning.
Ninkasi tugged at his coat. “You know, you’re the only person here who talks to me.” Crack of pain in her voice.
Orion took a deep breath, and continued walking.
“Will you stay with me?” She pulled on his jacket. “Until I’m normal again?”
He deliberated upon an appropriate response. “Then you do understand that you’re out of your mind.”
“Nothing ever made more sense than it does right now!” Her voice was muffled, face in his coat. “But I am a little dizzy.”
The crush of her body against him made him crazy, her supple form, the elegant dress drove him wild. “Your senses” —he spoke sternly, wanting to tear her dress away— “will return in the morning.”
“Do you know how boring it is in there?!” She sniffled. “Do you know how alone I am, every second of every day?”
He strained to reach a handle on the door and forced it open with his body, entering the chateau.
She kept her face tucked against his chest.
Orion transported Ninkasi through the threshold to her chamber. Carrying her to the edge of her bed, he laid her on the mattress, taking great care to ensure a heap of pillows supported her head.
She squirmed and shifted, falling on her stomach and crawling to the middle of the bed. She reclined, her dress lifting, revealing the arch of her pointed foot, the sloping curve of her calf beneath lace stockings.
Orion stood hesitantly at the edge of the bed. He knew he should leave. To exploit the situation was equally criminal and meaningless. The thought revolted him, taking advantage of a woman, despite. . .
Ninkasi sat upright, a blanket covering her legs, compensation for the hiked-up frocks, and undid her hair. Her fingers unsnapped one barrette at a time, locks of ebony tresses falling around her back in waves. The lacing up the front of the snug gown accented the rise and fall of her chest.
Despite the feelings she stirred in him.
Barrettes slipped from her fingers and she crashed against the headboard, forcibly smacking her head and laughing.
Orion lifted an eyebrow, venturing a step or two closer to where she rested.
“Stay longer.” She scooted down the bed and pulled the blankets up to her chin, shivering. “I’m still hallucinating.” She shut her eyes.
He rested a hand on her forehead.
“I thought it was finished.” Ninkasi tilted her head to the side, looking fretful, and grabbed his wrist with a cold hand.
He stroked the side of her face.
“I feel it coming up again.” She heaved deep breaths. “I feel like it’s not going to stop—”
“It can go on for hours. The chaos is in full swing outside.” Orion shot a disgusted glance through the window. “But I promise you, it always ends.”
“You have to stay.” She retracted her hand and fidgeted under the blanket, rolling her head on the pillow.
“I can’t help you.” He shook his head. “I can’t stop it. There’s nothing I can do.”
Pushing herself up with one arm, she lurched forward with an unsteady face. She looked at him, eyes like whirlpools. “You can stay!” Her teeth chattered.
Orion brought one hand to his chin, and locked the other over his stomach.
Shivering, she sank beneath the blankets, curling on her side into fetal position. She tossed and turned, settling on her back.
He paced toward the window, picking up an antique wooden chair beside the table. Carrying it to the edge of the bed, he removed his coat and sat beside her.
Ninkasi squinted. “I’m seeing the weirdest things right now.”
“I can imagine.” Orion looked over his shoulder, pursing his lips.
She inched toward the edge of the bed and curled her fingers into the fabric of his shirt.
He relaxed his shoulders, and delicately ran his fingers through her hair, stroking her head.
She nestled closer to him, resting her head on his lap.
Orion jilted his head away to conceal his surprise, to conceal the madness and urgency she conjured.
Ninkasi lay peacefully with her eyes closed. “What is that stuff, anyway?”
He let his fingers fall down her neck, over her shoulder. “I have no idea.”
“None at all?” She still clutched his shirt.
“None whatsoever.” Orion sighed. “For tonight, all I know is that Aleister prepared a recipe no one on earth has cooked for a thousand years.”
“It’s incredible.” She moaned. “Ugh, when it isn’t scary. . .”
“Aleister makes all of his own drugs. He plants them, grows them, picks them, transports them to the lab and then burns them, boils them, bakes them, and occasionally blows things up.” Orion paused. “He says they’re harmless. Other than. . . the obvious.”
Ninkasi laughed. “Aleister’s obvious brain damage?”
He smirked.
“That’s what. . . I’m afraid of. . .” Her fingers uncurled around his shirt and traced down his leg.
He bit his tongue and fought to ignore a raging tide of lust.
“Being stuck here forever. . .” Her fingers slipped toward the inside of his leg. “Falling too far into this place and never coming out. . . Being eaten by it. . .”
Orion’s back stiffened. “Is it really so bad here?”
Ninkasi was contented to rest in silence on his lap. “That’s not a fair question.”
His palm slid over her shoulder, up her neck, fingers raking through her hair. “Were you happier at home?”
She tugged at his pant leg with her other hand. “That’s really not. . .” She yawned. “A fair question.”
Orion’s hand swept down her face and across her arm, reaching slowly to her fingertips with a feathery touch. “We’re all hostages here.”
Ninkasi rolled onto her back, keeping her head on his lap. “Where’s your purple collar?”
“Aleister plans to release you.” He massaged her temples with his thumbs, and stared at the ceiling. “
The rest of us, he keeps for life. But we were all previously hostage to something else, something terrible. That’s the difference. Everyone here is an outcast, homeless, a refugee. This is the place to which they’ve escaped; there’s nowhere else they’d rather be.”
“So.” She tilted her head back, and reached for his mask. “Which one are you?” Her hand trembled.
He grabbed her hand, escorting it away from his face. “None of the above.”
She yanked at his mask with her other hand. “Then fill in the blank.”
Orion covered her eyes. “A trophy.”
She leaned into his chest and laughed. “I should play sports more often.”
He pulled the blanket over her head. “You’re out of your mind.”
Wax dripped from the luminescent candelabra in the corner of the belfry. Orion stood before an ancient hutch, meditating upon shelves of trinkets and knick-knacks, souvenirs swiped when none were looking.
In his fist, he clenched a silver barrette studded with a faceted pink topaz that sparkled in the flickering light.
He would have loved to sit with Ninkasi by candlelight and admire her beautiful hair swept up with these gems, and stare into her eyes, more beautiful than the jewels.
He felt a cavernous sense of loneliness. It had been decades since he sat with another, in true communion, feeling the silent exchange of electricity between bodies, the grace of wordless company.
Ninkasi slept blissfully now. In the morning she would awake, sober, and recall her boundless hatred for him.
He was a fool to visit her.
But he couldn’t stop himself.
He admired the barrette. It didn’t belong to her—it was property of Aleister, everything he touched was property of Aleister—but she had worn it. She made it special, made it beautiful. When he touched it, he thought of her. He thought of her flowing hair, the matching dress that clung to her body, the pink stockings.
It was the piece of the costume, of the night, of a moment.
One moment.
Orion placed the barrette beside the kiln-fired lizard stolen from her house.
He blew out the candles and sat on the unyielding mattress, unable to stifle the anxious anticipation of the nightmares to come.