True Believers

by Maria Zannini

  “Are you saying the radiation won't hurt me?”

  Gilgamesh scoffed at him. “You are a hard man to convince, Taelen Jessit.” He turned toward a mountain of medical equipment on a nearby table and pointed at it. “No doubt you have machines here that will prove my claim. Check for yourself. You'll find you are now producing the same radiation that Rachel and I emit.”

  “Glory.” The word tasted like ash in his mouth. What had he done?

  Gilgamesh seemed to understand Jessit's raw dread and let out a blustery sigh. “Don't worry, young man. I imagine you'll put your gifts to good use.” His gaze returned to Rachel.

  Jessit scooped Rachel's hand in his. “Can I do anything for her?”

  Gilgamesh squeezed Jessit's shoulder. “Pray. Only Anu himself can help her now.”

  Chapter 42

  Jessit hung by Rachel's side, but she neither stirred nor breathed, even when he spoke gently to her.

  He adjusted her pillow then finger-combed her hair until it looked like a halo around her head. The bruises were fading, and her skin looked brighter. That seemed a good sign, but it wasn't enough.

  He curled his fingers around hers, bringing them to his lips for a kiss. “Wake up, Rachel. Please.” He bent down and kissed her lips and something tugged low at his chest. He looked down to see a soft silvery-blue cord swaying just outside his chest.

  His na'hala. He stared at it, incredulous that this thing had been inside him. It was the first time he had ever seen it, and he wasn't sure whether to be intrigued or horrified.

  The soul cord hesitated for a moment before more of it undulated out of his solar plexus and tasted the air. It inspected Rachel, a piece of it nudging her gently on the cheek, as if it were trying to wake her.

  Must help. The words were as clear as if they were spoken aloud. Must help.

  But how?

  The ethereal na'hala surged forward, stroking Rachel's face and arms. Must help, it insisted. It became frantic, nudging her more violently. Must help.

  Once before she had merged their souls, enhancing him with her DNA. Could he do the same for her?

  The ugly wounds on her neck where the god-killer had been impaled were beginning to heal, and the lacerations on her wrists and ankles were nothing more than bruises. Somehow she was healing herself, but the process was painfully slow.

  What if she needed help?

  Must help, his na'hala reminded him.

  “Show me how,” he told it. “Help her.”

  His soul cord was as clueless as he was. It knew only that she needed them, but it didn't know how to help her anymore than he did.

  He pressed his cheek against hers and whispered into her ear. “Tell me how to help you.” A tingling sensation cut across his midsection, and he felt his na'hala pierce her body. Rachel gasped a breath then stilled.

  Jessit held her in his arms. His soul cord had found hers and in an instant, he relived all her horrors and her fears. The torture. The interrogations. Her murder. All of it surged into his mind at once. He hugged her. “You are safe. No one will harm you.”

  Their souls merged, twining themselves like smoke. He realized she was still fighting for life. “I have you, Rachel.” He squeezed her to his chest. “I have you.”

  Another gasp, this one longer and deeper. He laid her down gently and felt for a pulse. It took several seconds before he dared to believe it. She had a heartbeat, and she was breathing.

  Thank you, her na'hala told him.

  It was hard to see past his misty eyes, but he examined her more thoroughly then brushed his cheek next to hers. “Welcome back.”

  Rachel's eyes fluttered open. She said nothing, staring up as if she were looking from another place. Her lips moved, but nothing came out. Instead, she reached for his hand and squeezed. In a soft raspy voice, she said, “Thank you.”

  Jessit smiled at her. “Did you think I would abandon you?”

  Her eyes seemed to twinkle, and she shook her head with some effort. “I should've known better.”

  He offered her a little water, which she sipped gratefully.

  “The com-web…”

  “Destroyed. Along with much of this planet's military. Your father is negotiating terms between our governments now.”

  Rachel winced. “Gilgamesh is not a forgiving man,” she whispered. “You might want to mediate.”

  “Someone else will do that. I intend to stay right here. You scared me to death.”

  “I knew you'd come for me. I could feel you. In here.” She tapped at a spot below her ribcage.

  Jessit had hoped for a quiet evening alone with her, but soon the sensors above her bed and the ones located at the locked doorway started blinking. Within minutes, Tambrez and his assistants bolted into the room, a garrison with medi-packs, checking vitals, assessing radiation and accosting Rachel with a flood of questions.

  One assistant broke from the pack and waved a sensor over Jessit. “How are you feeling, sir?”

  “I feel fine.”

  “I'm getting some anomalous readings here—”

  Jessit snatched the wand away from him and shut it off. “I am fine, medic. Tend to the Lady.”

  Jessit drifted away from the medical personnel and allowed them to run their tests. Rachel was back in the land of the living, and that was their domain.

  Despite the flurry of visitors, doctors and priests, Jessit never strayed far from Rachel's side. When the euphoria of her return had ebbed, Gilgamesh ordered them away once more, everyone but Jessit.

  Gilgamesh said nothing to them, merely a measured glance before he shut the door behind him.

  Jessit pushed a bed next to Rachel's and slept with her in his arms.

  ***

  Rachel woke up in the middle of the night tucked safely in Jessit's embrace. She sighed in contentment. After all they'd been through, it seemed at last the worst was over.

  The room was dark, but she could sense another presence nearby. Apa?

  She eased herself out of Jessit's arms and stumbled to her feet. At the far corner of the ward was Gilgamesh, hung over the body of a girl. Rachel drew closer.

  Dahlia. “Is she…”

  “Yes. She died trying to save Paul Domino.”

  Rachel touched the young girl's face and was surprised to find her skin so soft and smooth, but her na'hala was gone. There was no sign of her spirit anywhere.

  “I don't understand. Why would she…” First Dahlia condemned Paul's spirit to the mortal plane, then she risked her life to save him. What was she trying to prove?

  Gilgamesh looked tired, almost old. It hit him harder than she expected.

  Rachel brushed away a single tear off her cheek. “Stupid. That was stupid of her.” Her voice broke over trembling lips.

  “She was fond of Paul Domino. She wanted to help him.”

  “It should have been me. I should be lying there dead, not her.”

  “You did die. I got you back.” He squeezed her hand.

  Thin lines trenched across Rachel's brow. “She was just a kid.” Her throat tightened when she remembered how harsh she had been with the girl. “It should've been me.”

  Life was more fragile than she expected…and more costly. Rachel had come close to losing her mortal shell several times in her short life, but she had never lost her soul, the essence of who she was.

  Dahlia was truly dead. And she was never coming back.

  Rachel smoothed the girl's black hair. A lump kept forming in her throat that she couldn't swallow away. Damn you, Dahlia. I never wished this for you.

  “We should burn the body, Apa. We can't let it exist like this to the end of its days.”

  “I've already instructed Commander Eklan that he is to remand the body to us. Her parents will want to see it, if nothing else.”

  Rachel chewed on her lip to keep herself from bursting into tears. “Silly, I suppose. I guess a part of me really did believe we were immortal. I can't remember the last time one of our kind was killed.” />
  “I can.” Gilgamesh kissed her on the temple. “But it was long ago. And I promise you, it will never happen again.”

  “Is it over then? Will the humans leave us alone now?”

  “Yes. It's over. For them.”

  Chapter 43

  Jessit relinquished his quarters along with his command, but he'd been allowed a small private room of his own. It was a mercy on Eklan's part; otherwise he would've been forced to share quarters with the priests.

  As soon as Rachel was released from the med ward, she was taken from him, obligated to attend meetings with Gilgamesh and high-ranking representatives from the Imperial court. Earth was being carved up like a melon, and it required her attention.

  She'd been able to sneak away and see him in the beginning, but negotiations had grown complicated, and he slept alone most nights.

  It was on one of these nights that found Kalya at his door.

  Jessit's first reaction was anger, followed by a cold belt of fear. He did his best not to show either. “Lord Kalya,” he said casually. “What can I do for you?”

  The old man beamed a crooked smile. “What do you think I want…brother?”

  “I have spent considerable time at prayer and meditation, my lord. If you would like to start my studies—”

  “I want to do more than that, apprentice. A delegation from the High Lord himself arrived yesterday. We have decided to save time and consecrate you here before we leave Earth orbit.”

  Jessit was sure his balls sucked into his body. “Why so soon? Isn't a quorum necessary for such a ceremony?”

  “Yes.” Kalya drawled out the word. “And we do have a quorum. Everything is in place. There's no reason to delay this any longer.” He guided Jessit into the corridor where six muscular priests waited for them. “I'm sure you'll agree that it would be best to get this over with as quickly as possible.” He patted him on the back. “It will give you time to heal.”

  Jessit stopped dead in his tracks.

  “Are you telling me we're doing the cutting now?”

  “Well, no. Not this very moment. We need to prepare you. You must fast and meditate for twenty-two hours. I've arranged a lovely location where you won't be disturbed.”

  “But…Rachel.”

  Kalya smiled viciously. “The Lady has been busy, hasn't she? If all goes well, you should be consecrated and healed by the time she is ready to depart for Alturis.”

  “I'd like to speak with her. To explain…”

  “There is nothing to explain. You can see her as soon as you've been castrated.”

  Castrated.

  Kalya tried to push him along, but Jessit found his feet locked in place.

  “Taelen, do not make this harder than it has to be. You’re not the first man to make this sacrifice.”

  Somehow he managed to drag one foot in front of the other and found himself on the planet surface on a lush tropical island. Kalya didn't even give him a chance to contact Senit. No one knew he was down here.

  Preparation was a day of fasting and meditation. If he was anything like the other acolytes before him, meditating also meant grieving the impending loss of his testicles. How he wished he could have seen Rachel once more before the knife lopped off his manhood.

  If the acolytes were old enough, they were allowed a night of sex with a woman or man before the ceremony, but no such offer was made to him. He would've blamed it on oversight, but he was certain it was deliberate on Kalya's part.

  The moment they landed on Earth, he was ordered into total silence. He was not to speak again until the ceremony was over. That had to be part of Kalya's plot too. The old man wanted no interruptions, no arguments and no witnesses.

  Nearly faceless under his hooded robes, Jessit stumbled out of the transport onto a tranquil beachfront. The air was warm and humid and had it not been for the circumstances, he might have found this paradise idyllic. But even that was stolen from him when Kalya escorted him to a cabin with all the windows barred. He left him there, locking the door from the outside.

  Jessit pulled down his hood and scanned the barren room. They didn't even make the effort to hide the surveillance sensors. Kalya was going to make sure Jessit didn't miss his appointment with Fate this time.

  Jessit didn't sleep that night, and it was just as well he was on a fast because he wasn't hungry either. But when he noticed a delegation of priests descend upon the quiet village, Jessit would have gladly committed murder just to have made his escape.

  Excited voices filled the air, and the beat of drums encouraged the mob of men to sway and dance. It was a party at his expense. Was it always like this? Did they always celebrate castration of the men and boys who stood rope-bound and drugged?

  They led him into a courtyard festooned with colorful flags and the scent of menze. Two poles were set five feet apart, each with a set of restraints. That was for him.

  Directly in front of the posts was a massive black sharpening stone, water for purification and a short knife that gleamed in the sunlight. That was for him too.

  In the center was a priest in full ceremonial garb. A red and yellow scarf wrapped around his forehead, but his vestment was snow-white and pristine. The skill of the surgeon would prove how white that robe remained.

  The bald priest was as brown as mago-wood, and his bare arms belied the tattoo of a cutter, a priest whose only job was severing the sweetmeats from man and boy alike.

  The priest sweated profusely. Jessit hoped it was due to the heat. He didn't need a nervous cutter on top of everything else.

  Jessit had been stripped to nothing more than a loin cloth and soon that would be robbed from him too.

  Menze, he thought. He needed more menze. There was no way he'd be able to endure this butchery.

  Two priests led him to the poles and there, his arms and legs were strapped tightly. His legs were shoulder-width apart, and he could feel a breeze underneath his loin cloth.

  Anu, god of gods, let this end quickly!

  By now he had a full audience with Kalya in the front, grinning like a sea cow in heat. The castrating priest was in good voice as he prayed for Jessit's soul.

  Why was no one praying for his poor testicles?

  Despite the priest's loud oratory, there was an even louder scuffle behind him. Jessit felt the ground tremble beneath him as a wave of energy washed over him. It seemed familiar but he dared not wish for the impossible.

  There was no way to turn around, but something was happening, something that brought the entire assembly to their knees.

  Kalya looked like he had swallowed a mouthful of bat dung. He prostrated himself lower than everyone else.

  Rachel!

  His spirit soared at seeing her again, and he had to smile at her grandiose entrance. He couldn't have done it better himself. Her robes swished the sand with every step, and the ground shook with her fury. The haughty and self-serving congregation trembled at her approach. Their utter humiliation was more satisfying than he expected.

  Seeing her again took him back to the first time they met. Was this the same woman? The urchin clothes had been replaced with silk, but she was still the fiery angel from the cave. A woman who loved him even when they knew it was wrong. He loved her too with a passion that wouldn’t have ended with the swipe of a knife, no matter how much Kalya wanted to make it so. Their union transcended the physical. And nothing made it more precious than knowing he nearly lost her.

  He'd never let anyone separate them again.

  Rachel was going to make sure of that too. She looked ready to disembowel every priest and onlooker.

  “Who is in charge here?” she asked through her translator.

  Kalya fumbled to his feet with a plea for clemency.

  Rachel marched toward him, Senit and Eklan behind her. “You knew this man was my consort, yet you dared to have him neutered?”

  “My—my Lady. Every male who can see glory is bound by law—”

  “That was not my question!” She grabb
ed the knife off the stone pier and waved it at the priest who would have done the deed. “And you! Do you also dare to take my consort?”

  “No—no, my Lady,” the man stuttered, prostrating himself before her. “Lord Kalya ordered the ceremony.”

  Rachel flung the knife to the dirt then hurled a wall of energy toward Kalya. It trapped him, and he screamed like a burnt pup. He covered his face with his hands and begged for mercy.

  She glared at a priest closest to where Jessit still stood bound. “What are you waiting for? Release him.”

  Two priests jumped as if they were on fire and unshackled Jessit's bonds.

  Jessit grabbed each by the shoulder and knocked them down like they were cardboard. Kalya was his real quarry. He had a score to settle with that sadist. But it seemed Rachel was taking care of that.

  Rachel removed the cage of energy around Kalya, grabbing him by the beads. “Per my father's wishes, I am returning to Alturis with you. Per Avenar, your High Lord, I will also submit to learning your ways and laws. But Taelen Jessit remains my consort. Make him a priest if it is your law, but you will not castrate him. Is that clear?”

  Kalya had lost the capacity for speech. He nodded dumbly, agreeable to any demands his god made.

  Someone had brought Jessit a robe, but he only managed to fasten half the buttons by the time her attention turned to him.

  “Are you all right?” Her words were barely audible.

  “I am now.”

  Rachel turned to Senit. “Get these vultures off the island.”

  Senit bowed. “With pleasure, my Lady.”

  Her hand folded around Jessit's arm and he led her back to his cabin. When she closed the door behind her, she blew out a breath. “That was close.”

  Jessit took her in his arms. “Too close, but your timing was excellent.” He wiped his brow. “Most excellent.”