The Flickering Flame

by Alyce Caswell

Finara shrugged. ‘Fine. I’ll think about it. But I don’t see myself requesting your presence anytime soon.’ The fire goddess’ eyes flamed again. ‘Now get out of here. I’m busy.’

  Colonel Jerrs rose and gave Finara a long bow. Then he turned on his heel and left, tugging his companion along with him.

  Sneering at their backs, Finara reached for her cup of coffein and downed it in one gulp. Evidently it wasn’t to her liking because she grimaced. ‘Eugh. Now, where were we?’

  Grace held her eyes. ‘Finara, I need you to promise me that you won’t go to any other mediaists after I’m gone.’

  ‘What do you care? You won’t be around to see what happens.’

  Shaking her head, Grace stood up, her fingers digging into a pocket. She yanked out a handful of coin-chips and threw them down on the table, even though the bartender could have sent the tab to her room. It was a more dramatic gesture and made her feel triumphant — until she heard Finara’s snort of laughter. Some of the coin-chips had bounced into the goddess’ lap.

  ‘You,’ Grace snapped, ‘are thoughtless. And selfish. We mortals might be better off without you. I know,’ she held up a hand, ‘I know that you were created to help your father deal with the galaxy’s expanding population. But you still don’t understand your role! You are not here to be worshipped, to be admired; you are here to look after us. I am not here to worship you, I — ’

  ‘Then what good are you?’ Finara demanded.

  Grace held her breath until her chest ached so much she thought she was dying — but that couldn’t be happening, not yet. Painfully aware of the attention they were drawing, she lowered her voice. ‘You don’t need to remain invisible. In fact, you shouldn’t. It’s a wonderful feeling for us mortals, to know that someone cares about us and wants to protect us. But so long as the one person it matters to knows what you’ve done, does the whole galaxy need to see it? Especially when you risk hurting those you care for? Don’t deny it, Finara — I know you care!’

  ‘Of course I do!’ Finara said hotly. ‘But the mortals don’t — ’

  Grace glowered at Finara until the goddess fell silent. ‘It seems that this mortal, this one standing in front of you, was created and sent here by the Creator God to make you understand your purpose. At least now I understand mine.’

  Finara paled. ‘Don’t say that. He didn’t send you.’

  Grace was about to storm off, but the abject horror on Finara’s face stopped her. ‘What would be so bad about that?’

  Once she was sitting back down, Finara told her everything, about how the Creator God had manipulated his sons by sending mortals to them — mortals they fell in love with — not to make his children happy, but to teach them lessons. The Creator God hadn’t even let the sub-level gods know that they were allowed to love until it suited him. For millennia, Finara and her siblings had lived in fear of disrupting the grand design. They had tried so hard not to look at any mortal for too long, terrified of becoming distracted and upsetting their father. Finara’s dismissive attitude towards mortals suddenly made sense. She had always cared. And she had always worried that she cared too much.

  ‘I think I’m your lesson,’ Grace said after a while. She couldn’t say how she knew this to be true, but it was. She didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. Everything she’d been through — everything — had placed her on the path to Arksaw, to Finara, to this very moment.

  Finara reached across the table, covering Grace’s shaking hands with her own. ‘You’re more than a lesson, Ms Gorgeous Mediaist. You’re a survivor. You’re strong, stubborn, brave and beautiful. And you deserve every bit of pleasure I want to give you.’

  ‘But I’m no longer a virgin,’ Grace reminded her. ‘I have no unfinished business.’

  Finara smirked. ‘I promised you an exclusive, didn’t I?’

  • • •

  This time the pantsuit ended up on the floor, several paces away from the hanger, discarded and rumpled on top of Grace’s prosthesis. But while the mortal was keen to get started, her kisses fast and frantic, Finara had something else in mind.

  Despite the brief disappointment flitting through her thoughts, Grace obeyed the commands she was given and lay back against Finara’s chest. Once Grace relaxed, her body growing limp and her mind completely full of trust, the Firine coaxed her lover to look up at herself in the mirror on the wall opposite the bed.

  Nestled into the V-shape formed by Finara’s legs, Grace watched in uncharacteristic silence as Finara held her open, revealing the moisture escaping Grace as it leaked its way onto her thighs. Finara whispered, ‘Stark, I just want to get on my knees and taste you. But later. First…I want you to see how beautiful you are when you come apart.’

  Finara kept her touch on Grace’s clitoris light and gentle, working her way into a more steady rhythm. Grace seemed hypnotised by the movement of Finara’s two fingers in the mirror, especially when they clenched the swollen nub between them. Sharing a grin with her own reflection, Finara clasped her spare hand to one of Grace’s goosebump-ridden breasts, massaging the hardening nipple with her thumb and making sure to keep this synchronised with the rhythm of her fingers.

  Finara took her time, teasing her lover, drawing out exasperated sighs and gasps. When Grace’s eyelids slid shut, her head falling back against Finara’s shoulder, the Firine tsked, ‘Nope, keep those eyes open. Or I won’t be finishing you off.’

  Moans of combined protest and arousal escaped the mortal, but Grace did as she was told. Pleased, Finara rewarded her by letting the hand fall from Grace’s breast, instead burying a finger inside Grace, curving it just so. Grace trembled and writhed, her smooth backside rising from the bed — and then Finara slid into her mind, feeling the orgasm begin as a steady pulse in the mortal’s abdomen. It flooded through Grace, elevating her to an existence of pure pleasure. Her toes scrunched, then released; the fingers she had dug into Finara’s thighs slowly lost their grip. Grace caught Finara’s gaze in the mirror, her dark eyes shining and her lips curling.

  Finara felt her stomach clench, not from desire, but from delight at having put that smile on Grace’s face. The goddess asked for nothing in return, content to simply study her lover’s naked form in the mirror, but Grace turned and knelt before her, balancing on one knee, no longer preoccupied with thoughts of what she had lost.

  Grace grasped Finara’s thighs, a touch that seemed to burn even the fire goddess’ skin, and spread Finara open, baring her to the mortal. Grace’s back curved and her breasts hung temptingly in front of Finara as she bent over, her tongue finding and circling Finara’s clitoris before darting down to graze the well of moisture beneath it.

  Finara meant to demand that Grace finish what she’d started, but all she managed to say was, ‘Please.’

  Grace’s laugh vibrated against Finara’s slick folds, causing her to shudder. And then, without any warning, Grace slid her tongue inside Finara in one swift glide. The goddess gasped and threaded her fingers through the coils of Grace’s hair, pulling her lover further into her, as far as she could go. In response, Grace moved her tongue around in a highly stimulating fashion, something the mortal had only learned to do the night before.

  Finara arched and cried out — not the name of her lover, or any coherent sentence. It was a wordless plea for Grace not to walk out to meet a volcano, but to stay and worship the goddess who needed her, who needed someone to challenge her and force her to confront her own fears.

  When Grace cupped her cheek and asked if she was alright, Finara said nothing.

  She did not want to lie.

  CHAPTER SIX

  Grace dozed for hours, sometimes rousing in fitful moments to see a naked goddess watching her with a strange glint in those hazel eyes. Other times she woke to an empty room, presumably because the Firine was needed elsewhere. But Grace felt no fear in those moments. Because Finara always returned to her side.

  When late afternoon light crept in through the tiny disc-shaped window, Grace found
herself on her stomach, Finara’s firm hands massaging her shoulders, her back, and then drifting down to knead out the tension in her buttocks. Finara’s touch dipped low, almost to her front, and Grace’s hips rose, presenting her slickness to the goddess; an offering, a surrender.

  Her throbbing core easily accepted two fingers as Finara bent over her, whispering words that Grace couldn’t catch. Grace was about to ask her to repeat them when Finara suddenly curled her fingers, wrenched a startled gasp from Grace and causing a wave of pleasure to creep through her. Her nipples brushed the sheet when she sagged against it, her skin tingling from the contact.

  Grace continued to lie there, smiling, as she enjoyed another massage, one that soothed instead of aroused. After a while, when she could no longer ignore the thoughts that had ignited upon waking, she said, ‘You told me your brothers were married. Do you think you’ll ever follow them down that path?’

  ‘Stark no!’ Finara responded, sounding horrified.

  Grace sat up, dislodging the goddess in the process. ‘Is this because there was a time when you and your siblings believed that you were not allowed to fall in love?’

  ‘That might be part of it, I suppose,’ Finara said with one of her usual shrugs. ‘But there’s also the eternity thing to consider. How are you supposed to know if you’ll still like the same person in a year, much less a century? No way am I putting myself through that. Not ever. Casual flings are enough for me.’

  ‘I see,’ Grace said.

  ‘But hey, I’ll do my best to remember you when you’re gone,’ Finara promised. ‘It’d be hard to forget someone who makes the sounds you do when I touch you.’

  ‘And just how long will you remember to keep out of Webcasts?’ Grace asked flatly.

  That shrug again. ‘We’ll see.’

  Grace turned her back to the Firine as she slid off the side of the bed. ‘You won’t remember me for long. A week of your life is nothing. There’ll be others, other distractions, for you to amuse yourself with.’

  ‘Grace, no, that’s not what I — ’ Finara began.

  But Grace did not want to hear another excuse — or worse, an empty apology designed to placate her until she was no longer around to call the goddess to task. She dressed quickly, located her prosthetic leg, then ran from the room. Only when she slowed to catch her breath did she realise how long it had been since she’d moved faster than a walk. She had finally adjusted to using the prosthesis.

  Just in time for her to no longer need it.

  • • •

  ‘…so, since I’m no longer going public and all that footage got deleted, you won’t need to waste any time going after the people in my domain,’ Finara finished.

  Waves lapped the shore. The sand between her toes felt gritty and irritating, but Fayay had insisted she meet him barefoot on one of his favourite beaches on New Sydney. Finara hadn’t failed to notice the ring of topless women bowing over a shrine stowed away between some nearby dunes. She wrinkled her nose but made no comment, not wanting to anger Fayay when she was so close to appeasing him.

  Fayay smiled, fungus-smeared teeth appearing between his cracked lips. ‘It is touching to know that my siblings still listen to me, that they are still under my influence instead of Sandsa’s.’

  Finara gaped at him. ‘Seriously? You’re still caught up on comparing penis sizes? You do realise Sandsa hasn’t spoken to anyone, including Kuja, in three whole years? He’s not influencing anyone against you, or plotting to destroy you. You’ve won, if there was anything worth winning.’

  ‘The Desine will recover eventually,’ Fayay said firmly. ‘And when he does, he will need repressing. He must understand that I am in charge now. You will assist me, as you did last time.’

  Finara grimaced. She had attacked Sandsa along with her other siblings, because they had all believed that the Desine was not allowed a wife, that he should care for his abandoned people instead of her. Finara had regretted her decision almost immediately; Kuja had been hurt trying to protect his brother in that fight and she’d quietly helped the rainforest god recover, upset that she had contributed to his pain.

  The Ine could have put a stop to that encounter in a heartbeat. But he hadn’t. He’d wanted Sandsa to be forced to use his powers, forced into his godly form and forced back to the deserts, where his wife would never want to follow him.

  Fury welled up inside Finara, but she wasn’t sure where to direct it.

  ‘In your dreams, Fayay,’ she said. ‘You only need us on your side because Sandsa would flatten you if you two went head-to-head. Fuck it. I’m not going to be part of this family bullshit anymore. But I also won’t get in your way. So don’t you dare come after my people.’

  She fled to a volcano on some other world, one that was in its infancy and too volatile for any lifeforms. Screaming hoarsely, Finara vented her feelings into the roiling surface beneath her feet. The volcano blew apart, red-hot rocks exploded around her and magma lashed her form, but it wasn’t enough. She was not yet satisfied.

  With a snarl, she reached into the planet and ripped out its molten heart.

  The world went cold, a future unmade, a dream unrealised.

  ‘She’s done what you wanted her to, Father, she’s put me in my place,’ Finara murmured. ‘Let me look after her now. I’ll make sure her last days are worth living.’

  • • •

  The days crawled by. Grace found that Finara was now unwilling to answer any questions about her immortal life. The goddess remained a generous and faithful companion, despite the permanent scowl she wore. Grace wasn’t sure why Finara was in such a bad mood; the Chippers had left the planet and had ensured that all mediaists were pulled, kicking and screaming if need be, into orbit. The Galactic Law Enforcement Agency had done it as a personal favour to the fire goddess, who had told them that she considered the gesture the start of their so-called alliance.

  Grace accessed a writing app on her techpad, keeping one eye on Finara who was dancing by the poolside, fire streaking over her form in a mesmerising, seductive fashion. Grace knew the goddess was doing it for her benefit, not for the many oiled, shirtless men who were paying her with compliments and coin-chips.

  Smiling, Grace returned to her work. She might not be releasing any Webcasts about Finara anymore, but Grace had her own project to complete. And she didn’t have long to do it.

  Unfortunately, the vidscreen in her room hadn’t delivered the forecast she’d been hoping for; there were no eruptions expected on her chosen day to die. She’d have to wait a whole extra week, one she could not afford to cover with her dwindling funds.

  But there was an eruption expected tomorrow.

  Fear slithered down Grace’s spine.

  Too soon.

  She went deep inside herself, considering the options, keeping her surface thoughts consumed with Finara’s body and her appreciation of it. She hoped the goddess would not look any further into her mind.

  Temples beginning to ache from the effort of splitting her focus, Grace began to type on her techpad.

  She paused to flex her fingers, but they refused to stop trembling.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Lulled by more than a few pink FizzWhizzes, Grace lay sprawled on the bed, waiting for Finara to come back to her. The goddess soon filled the doorway of the bathroom, smirking, hands on her bare hips. Something warm stirred low in Grace’s abdomen at the sight of Finara and she had the uncomfortable feeling that it had nothing to do with desire. Mercifully, there wasn’t time to worry about what that meant.

  Finara sauntered over. ‘Sorry to keep you waiting. Grass fires on Sundafar, forest fires on Ranta, factory fires on Londinium…had to deal with everything all at once, as usual. Anyway, I thought about getting one of those synthflesh toys to use on you, then I had a peek inside your head and realised you were as unfazed by those as I am. Guess you’ll just have to feel my flesh all over you and inside you instead.’

  Grace smiled lazily, hands resting on her st
omach. ‘How unfortunate.’

  ‘Not sure what I should do to you now, since I’ve got something big planned for tomorrow night,’ Finara went on, sitting down beside her. ‘It being your last full day as my lover and all.’

  ‘I’d just like to cuddle this evening, if that’s alright,’ Grace said, rushing out the words before any of her thoughts could settle for too long.

  Finara’s lips curved into a grin. ‘No problem. I’m just as good at that as I am at sex.’

  Grace’s body had been starved for this kind of intimacy for her entire life and so she had nothing to compare Finara’s embrace to, but she was sure she would never feel this safe in someone else’s arms. They lay together on the bed, not once breaking eye contact, not once opening their mouths to speak. The hours drifted by, lost, irrecoverable. But it was exactly what Grace had wanted, what she had needed, for her last night.

  Early in the morning, before the nearest star had cleared the horizon outside the tiny window, Finara left, tending to some emergency on some other world. Grace rolled over and inhaled the goddess’ scent on the pillow, praying that her memories of this week would stay with her forever, just one possession she would be allowed to take into the afterlife.

  Finally, Grace stopped ignoring the inevitable and pulled on her pantsuit.

  Then she walked out beyond the forcefield.

  • • •

  Finara.

  The Ine’s voice. It was deep, commanding and immense, like an abyss. She had spent millennia ignoring the so-called Creator God, hoping it would make him ignore her in turn. She had even started to believe that she was safe from him and his plans.

  She’d been wrong. But that didn’t mean she had to listen to her father.

  Finara busied herself by throwing flaming streaks across the shivering fields that stood in the path of an inferno. She was forming firebreaks — they wouldn’t stop the oncoming devastation, but they would buy enough time for the people of the timber city behind her to flush out their clogged pipes and get their water cannons ready.