by M L Adams
‘What others? Why would it end badly?’
The angel ignored her questions and waved a hand in the air. At the minute movement of her wrist, the blackness shrouding them began to dissolve. Shafts of light appeared and multiplied before hardening and taking shape. Out of nowhere, an image of a lush valley with gentle grassy slopes appeared. The brilliant green glowed against the seemingly eternal blue sky. Eden had never encountered so much open space before. It made her feel insignificant and powerful all at the same time. She let her eyes take in the incredible sight before her. Upon the tallest slope stood a stately tree unlike any other she had seen before. Eden instinctively knew this tree was special.
She felt herself being set down upon the ground, her newly conjured feet coming to rest on the sun-kissed earth. Could it really be this easy? She wondered. All she had to do was bring home a fruit from that tree, and Luca would be cured!
The angel spoke from behind her. ‘Look closely, and you will see that this tree bears fruit like no other. Just one drop of its nectar is all that Luca requires.’ She motioned for Eden to take a closer look.
Her body glided forwards until she was standing in the shade of the great tree, staring up into its highest branches. Only then did Eden spot the golden globes clustered amongst the dense leaves. The fruit glistened, sending off shafts of light as the sun touched upon their crystal-like skin. Eden could almost imagine them calling to her with whispered words of promise.
‘Now you see them,’ the angel purred with satisfaction. ‘The Most High calls them the Forbidden Fruit, for they are the only thing in this land of lands which contains His residual power. They can grant your every wish and heal any illness. There is nothing they cannot do.’
Eden recoiled from the tree and spun to face her guardian. ‘Why would you show me such a thing? They would not be called “forbidden” without reason. What game are you playing with me? Why would you show me what I cannot come to obtain?’ The hope that had been brewing in Eden's soul evaporated with a sudden rush of tears. She swept them away with disgust and glared at the angel.
‘What game am I playing?’ The angel’s face flickered, revealing skeletal cheekbones and arched brows. It happened so quickly Eden thought she may have imagined it. ‘I suppose I have chosen the role of supporting you. Is that so hard to believe? Is it not your beloved lying on that bench as we speak? I, unlike you, was made, not born.’ The angel took in a deep breath to calm herself before continuing. ‘Perhaps I am not explaining this right. I’m trying to make the most of the cards I have been dealt. Perhaps I have grown to love you, and wish not to see you suffer,’ she said, in a much gentler tone. ‘I am not like you, Eden. I do not have the ability to think as you do so that I may seem odd at best, but please believe me when I say that my heart is in the right place. I wish only for your happiness.’
Eden swallowed the lump in her throat, feeling ashamed for the way she had doubted her angel’s intentions. ‘I am sorry.’ She took the angel’s hand in her own and held it to her heart. ‘I have shamed myself and, in doing so, I have shamed my family. I believe I have not even asked for your name. Please, accept my sincere apologies and let us start anew?’
A smile, now genuine, brushed upon the angel’s face. ‘Very well, youngling. You may call me… Delilah.’
Eden was prevented from answering by a sudden sharp tugging deep within her gut as if she were a fish on a hook. She knew something was trying to draw her from this dream, but she didn’t want to go — not yet. The tugging became more urgent. ‘Delilah? What’s happening?’ Eden grabbed hold of her middle after one particularly painful pull.
‘Do not fret, child. Go back to them for now, but when you wake head east and speak nothing of this. When you are in need of aid, I will send my helpers to assist you. Worry not, we shall revive your Luca. Now go!’
With that command, Eden felt large hands envelop her body before being ripped backwards.
Eden came to with a gasp. Her hands encountered thick fur before her eyes focused enough to see Mokoto holding a mouthful of her shirt. She sagged in relief to be awake after such a dream. But it wasn't just a dream, she told herself.
‘Eden, up?’ The words came out like a child testing the shape of them upon his lips.
‘Mokoto? You can speak? You can speak!’
She propped herself up on her elbows and stared in wonderment at the little pup before her. His voice was much like her younger brother’s that it made her heart ache. He had released the fabric from his mouth and sat back on his haunches staring at her. Mokoto had a very soulful gaze for someone so young, she noticed.
Eden reached out a hand to draw him closer to her before she clapped eyes on the new item of clothing she was now wearing. In a panic, she ripped the sheets down and examined herself. Only then did Eden notice she was in a room she'd never been in before, wearing a man's dark shirt that she didn't remember ever putting on. The only small mercy came in knowing that the shirt was very long on her, reaching to the tops of her knees. Eden's eyes shot up to Mokoto for answers, but he just ducked his head apologetically.
‘You sleep, I sleep. You cry out, I wake. I see nothing.’ He sniffed the air experimentally, and his top lip curled, exposing his front teeth. ‘You smell better now.’
It took Eden a moment to realise that the mite was laughing at her.
‘Why, you little —’ She threw the bedcovers over his head and bundled him up in them before tickling his ribs. It did nothing but increase the level of his excitement, if his high-pitched chitter was anything to go by. ‘You laugh now, but —’
The unmistakable sound of a man clearing his throat came from the doorway. She hadn't even noticed the bedroom door was propped open. Eden whipped the covers back over herself so quickly that poor Mokoto almost went flying. Despite this, Eden sent him an evil glare. Surely, with ears as big as his he could have heard anything coming!
After quickly ensuring she had everything covered, Eden turned her attention to the door. She spotted Micah leaning on the doorframe, lips tilted in amusement. His arms were folded across his chest with the sleeves of his black shirt rolled up past his elbows; never before had Eden noticed just how large his biceps really were from all those hours toiling in the crop fields. She whipped her eyes back up to his face, confused as to why his arms should interest her at all. A deep blush swept across her cheeks. She knew there was only one way she had ended up in this shirt. Luckily, Micah didn't seem to notice the burning caress her cheeks. ‘How —?’ She cleared her throat and tried again. ‘How is Luca today?’
‘Asleep, la — Eden. He has yet to wake, but do not worry…’
He was about to continue, but Eden had already thrown the covers off, causing them to cascade down upon poor Mokoto once again. She marched past Micah without breaking her stride, heading out into the hallway. If Micah was indeed the one Eden suspected had dressed her last night, him seeing her bare legs now were the lest of her worries.
She paused briefly and looked around before seeing the stairs leading downwards to her left. She took the steps at speed, missing every second one and thudded to the bottom. Eden cautiously approached the back of the couch she knew held Luca, worried by what she might find there. A smaller chair has been pulled up alongside it, a cushion and blanket cast aside. Micah had held a night visual.
Did Luca still lie there prone and vulnerable? The thought of it sickened her. How could someone so bold and daring be reduced to this shell of a man?
With a deep breath, Eden steeled herself and stepped around the couch to face him. Strangely, her immediate thought was of how peaceful Luca seemed, but there was no sign of the ever-present nuances that made Luca who he was, who she saw him to be. Luca had never been one to sit still for too long — he was too restless for that. She reflected now that some part of him had always been in motion.
Eden knelt down on the floor beside Luca, taking his hand into one of hers while the other stroked the smooth skin between his brows. She let out
the breath she'd been holding, mesmerised by his beauty. His skin was as smooth as ivory, without mark or blemish, but still warm to the touch. Lashes, much darker than his auburn hair, brushed his cheekbones as his eyes fluttered behind their lids. What did he dream of, she wondered? Luca's face still managed to look proud, but it just wasn't the same without his sharp green eyes laughing at her. Soft footsteps approached from behind, but she couldn’t take her eyes off Luca. The soft weight of wool fell about her shoulders, pooling around her feet.
‘Thank you, Micah.’ She felt rather than saw him nod. ‘Why won't he wake up?’ Her eyes sought his now. She needed to see the certainty on Micah’s face, needed to know that he still believed Luca would wake.
‘I have brewed you some camomile tea.’ Micah held the steaming cup out to her handle first. ‘I thought you might be in need of it this morning, but I do not know what to prepare for you to eat.’ His eyes seem unsure, almost reluctant to look at her. ‘You must be hungry after missing dinner last night.’
Regardless of the strange fleeting looks, he was casting her way, Micah's voice was sincere, Eden couldn't help but let go of Luca and rise. She rested her hand briefly on his arm in thanks and accepted the steaming cup, feeling Micah’s muscles tense briefly at the contact. Eden took a small, experimental sip, letting the heat of the calming brew seep through her. She smiled and stepped past Micah to sit on the nearby chair.
‘What do we do now?’ she asked.
Micah shrugged and turned to sit by his brother’s feet. His fingers threaded together and hung between his thighs. ‘We wait. There is little else for us to do.’
Eden watched Micah study his brother's face for a long while before he continued.
‘I have sent for our Father. It will not be long until He arrives.’ His dark, silver eyes suddenly fixed on her, freezing her to the spot. ‘I would advise you to stay here too.’
Eden dropped her eyes to the fingers tangled in her lap, unable to take the intensity of his gaze. She drew the wool closer to her body. There was no way she could stay here and do nothing — not when she knew what Luca needed.
She had to go.
A heavy feeling settled on her chest. Delilah had said she couldn't tell anyone where she was going, so how was she going to slip away? The beginnings of an idea began to form. She could feel Micah's continued stare bore into her, waiting for an answer. She steeled herself, trying to still the frantic beating of her heart as she crafted her first lie. ‘I was hoping to reunite Moko with his mother today. We have nothing to feed him here. I know Picta has probably started to wean her pups by now, but still, the longer he’s away from his pack, the harder it will be for him.’
Micah’s shoulders drooped in defeat. His reaction confused her. Did he somehow know of her plan? ‘Yes,’ he said, in a surprisingly deflated tone. ‘You're right.’ He dropped his eyes to the floor. ‘We must do what we feel we must.’ His eyes caught hers a split second before he rose to his feet. There was a definite look of hurt there.
Could he know what she was planning? Eden wondered with alarm.
‘Well, if you are going out in search of… Picta —’
Eden didn’t miss the pause.
‘— I had best feed you and sent you off with provisions. Just in case you were to take longer than you expected. It is, after all, a vast land.’ Micah turned to leave but paused. ‘I have washed and mended your clothes the best I can and replaced those I could not.’
Eden watched in silence as the big man stood and strode through the sitting room to the kitchen without more than a backwards glance.
‘We go now?’ a small voice asked by her feet.
‘Yes. We go,’ Eden answered softly, staring at the spot in which Micah had last stood.
Chapter 4
‘There are no flowers in this empty place,
and, scared the butterfly would starve, I forced a window wide,
cupped my two hands around her fluttering self, feeling her wings kiss my palms so gentle,
and put her out, and watched her fly away.’
— Neil Gaiman, Fragile Things
Lilith turned away with a flurry of midnight skirts and the sharp staccato of her heels. If she had to spend one more moment in His presence, she was going to do something she may later come to regret. That was not part of her plan; not yet.
‘And I suppose You are here to tell me to stop?’ She rounded on Him again as He just stood there, in her entrance hall, as stoic as ever. She felt her lip curl in distaste. Her house was vast and winding, magnificent in its design, starting from the gentle slopes of the Ivory Valleys and ending deep within the marrow of Ebony Mountain — yet He made it feel so small.
Lilith felt as if the walls were about to close in around her. She took His silence as an answer.
‘Then let me remind You of the little deal we had...’ she continued. ‘You told me, should I decide to leave Your little entourage, I would owe You one favour. ONE favour! You brought me into this position to start with, and I'll be damned if I'm going to wrap myself in Your affairs once more.’ She paused. ‘Oh wait, I am damned!’ She glared at Him accusingly. ‘I am doing as we agreed. If You do not like it, go and find someone else gullible enough to do Your dirty work for You. We obviously can't have You sullying those clean hands of Yours, can we?’ Lilith pretended to look thoughtful. ‘What of my replacement, that new girl, Eve? She seems like she fits Your specifications perfectly because I’m done!’
He regarded her for some time. To anyone else, He would appear as a man of some years with earthy brown eyes and brown hair only recently touched by grey. Neat, compact, and otherwise unextraordinary. He was smartly dressed in light trousers and a tailored shirt. He kept His hair short and His beard neatly trimmed. He seemed every bit the respectable man, but Lilith knew better. She was wiser! She knew that, deep down, His heart was just as dried and shrivelled as her own. It's where she'd inherited her amazing talents from, after all. ‘Well, Father. Do you truly have nothing to say?’
He shook His head gently, the compassion in His eyes almost undoing her. Lilith’s eyes burnt with unbidden tears, brought on by the deeply trenched feelings of abandonment she'd spent years trying to bury. All it took was one look from Him to send her defences crashing down as if foolishly erected out of the sand. ‘I would tell you all, my daughter, but you would not heed Me. No, I will not tell you; I will show you. In time, even you will come to see.’
Lilith narrowed her lips, desperately wanting to stamp her foot like a little child — this is what He reduced her to, a petulant infant? ‘What are You talking about? I have no time to waste with a dithering old fool like You! The time has come for You to roll over and see the world You have created for what it truly is.’
A look of despair, so profound in its magnitude, shimmered in His eyes and, with it, Lilith felt the ground beneath her fall away. She spun on her heels. He could find His own way out. She was done.
Lilith always found herself in her apothecary when she needed time to think. It soothed her; here, everything was just right. The room looked out over her rose garden, one of the few things she allowed herself to hold dear. The great room was brightly lit by wide open archways, allowing her to see the rows upon rows of jars and ingredients — not all of them dead — that lined the walls.
It was in the simple task of grounding the carefully selected pieces of mica into a powder that soothed her. It allowed her mind time to spiral freely within the repetitive task of rolling the pestle around the smooth mortar base. The earlier events of the morning had put her into the mood for a deep red — a colour that would look perfect upon her lips. She checked to see if the pot of water she had hanging over a small fire was warm enough. She tutted in annoyance; the flame was too high, causing the water to boil too violently when she only required a soft simmer. Adjusting the pot to hang higher above the fire, Lilith proceeded to place a tall glass jar into the middle of the water.
Being the thorough woman that she was, everyt
hing Lilith needed had already been set out before her. First, she picked up the coconut oil and added it to her jar, followed by the beeswax and butter. She stirred until all the ingredients were melted together. When Lilith was satisfied, she selected a small amount of the deep red mica and carefully stirred it into her mixture. She could have stopped there, but she couldn't resist adding a few drops of the freshly pressed peppermint oil she had prepared the day before. She added it to everything she wore.
Once the colours and oils were well mixed, she decanted the thick liquid into small shallow pots to allow them to cool by the window.
Lilith smiled to herself. She had been wasted in that marriage. What was the use of a life if only to boost the ego of your husband and churn out beings in the hope they turned out to be better versions of yourself?
Chapter 5
‘Confusion heard his voice, and wild uproar
stood rul'd, stood vast infinitude confin'd;
till at his second bidding Darkness fled,
light shone, and order from disorder sprung.’
— John Milton, Paradise Lost
The last light of the day was already fast diminishing. She and Mokoto had travelled through the lush valleys of Elephant's Cove to take shelter in the rocky crags of Opal Court. They had left the tall trees and valleys behind long ago. Eden knew that Picta and the rest of Mokoto's family preferred the hot, dry landscapes of the Courts causing Eden to wonder what had caused Mokoto's solitary appearance at the river. She could only guess the whole family had gone down to drink and got flushed further inland by the chaos caused by the elephants. The mere thought of 'the event' (she refused to refer to it by any other name) caused deep feelings of unease to surface within her — feelings that Eden had been harbouring since before she and Luca had heard the first cries splinter through the forest air.