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A timeless, amoral endeavor

I do believe I'm dying

Feels like I'm dying

Thank god I'm dying

Under cover of darkness or in the glare of the morning light

Do you think I might come to your arms in the next life?

Khai, don't die! The scion of Luxor. Such beautiful eyebrows. The loneliness disappears when I see you.

My guardian angel stands at the fountain

A brush of her shoulder, and I remain human

My guardian angel takes away all grieving contemplation

I do believe it's raining

Smells like
it's
raining

Thank god it's raining

Under cover of darkness or in the glare of the morning light

I will never fall into your arms in this life, in this life, in this life.

Yes, you will, Khai! You will fall into my arms. Fall now. Fall now.

Durga opened her eyes. The window was open. It was early morning, first light. She could hear distant sounds of the bay, the seagulls and the surf. This was her turret room in the citadel. Allel, Jake's city. Oh, Jake…

She never wanted to do that again. Never wanted to experience that emptiness, like looking off a cliff into a universe of nothing. What did it mean, really? Jake wasn't evil or bad, so lack of a soul didn't affect the person.

It affected the world. The soul was necessary to existence itself. Asherah had said the material world needed more souls or everything would cease to exist.

Durga didn't want to think that a soulless person was less than an ensouled person. She didn't want to think it. She didn't want it to be true.

She turned away from that memory.

A guitar leaned against the wall. Khai of Luxor was on his knees beside the bed, his head bent down. Her hand was grasped between his two hands. She pressed her fingers against his palm.

"Praise Asherah, you've come back to me." A smile spread over his face. He radiated joy. His eyes were kind, concerned, and happy all at once. No harm could come to her as long as Khai was near.

Please,
Asherah,
let Khai have a soul.

He leaned forward, and his lips found hers.

The first thing Char noticed was the rough weave of Jake's sheets, the weight of his blankets. They'd slept in his bed last night. Alice was in Char's suite.

Alice was going to give ghosts a bad name, taking bubble baths and speaking in sentences. Well, two-word sentences.
Yes, please. No, please.
She was anxious for her bees, and Char had promised to take her to hydroponics to see them today.

It was early. The sun was probably just peeking over the eastern forest. There had been rain all night, but at the moment a rosy-colored light filtered through the window. Char stretched and rolled over to kiss Jake good morning.

Shib.
He wasn't there.

Her heart sank. "Jake?" No answer. No, cripes, no. She understood that he had a busy schedule today, what with learning how to get a soul and have sacred sex and all, but couldn't he have waited until the sun was truly up?

She was being childish. Selfish. But she didn't care.

She kicked her feet in the blankets and threw a private fit. "Jake!" It didn't change anything, but she felt a little better. She put on her robe and went into the bathroom to brush her teeth.

Jake really deserved nicer quarters than these. He'd built a luxurious suite for her, trying to entice her to stay permanently. His bedroom contained the bed, a closet, and a writing desk with no sense of spaciousness. His bathroom was functional, and that was the best she could say about that. The antechamber was big enough for four people to meet without touching toes. No wonder he stayed in her rooms when she was at the settlement.

Allel.
The settlement was a city now. It had a name. Or it would. Sanguibahd would approve the city, no matter what happened with Jake. All gods. What a cosmic joke. A man builds a city from the ground up, names it for the gods, and it turns out he doesn't have a soul.

Of course Jake would run the liminal gauntlet.

Of course he would risk his life for the good of his city. His people.

When Char first met Jake, he was a loner. Committed to no one but his sister Rani. Now he was committed to everyone. His happiness was second to the common good. Jake could live as a wildling in the forest and never think of souls again if it wasn't for Garrick. He would never let Garrick take possession of Allel.

The old world Defenders of Gaia had been terrorists and mass murderers, but they were right about hating Garrick Corporation. Garrick had done more than any entity to bring on the cataclysm. Garrick squeezed all sweetness from the earth for profit and poured back filth and waste, poverty and despair.
From what Char had seen of their prince, Garrick wasn't likely to do anything different as a city-state.

She would never understand why Samael favored that city. It must have something to do with that mysterious ways thing.

She returned to the bedroom. Instead of getting dressed, she threw off her robe and got back under the covers. She held Jake's pillow to her face to breathe in his scent. What if he did it today? What if he'd already gone to Lydia and was about to run the gauntlet? What if he had some kind of psychotic breakdown and never came back to her?

Oh, Jake…how could you leave me without even saying goodbye?

"Good morning!" He came through the door carrying a tray. He had on a green wrinkled long-sleeved hemp shirt and blue pajama bottoms and slippers. His hair stuck out in all directions.

"Tell me no one saw you out there."

He put the tray on the bed and stripped off his shirt and slippers. "I brought you some breakfast. I just saw Gordon. The bees are almost all in, about a hundred hives left to go."

"Where did you go?" How could he be so normal, so cheerful?

"Down to the kitchen to have them
brew
some coffee. I got it from Magda. I know you always give yours away." He climbed into the bed and gave her a kiss then poured two cups of hot black liquid. "You're not going to believe this." He picked up a small carafe and wiggled his eyebrows. "Wait for it." He poured the contents into the coffee.

"Cream?" He was right. Char couldn't believe it. She had cream any time she liked in Corcovado, but never in the world. "How?"

"A milk cow. Coronation gift from Spandau. They couldn't figure out a tactful way to take it back without calling me a soulless bastard.
Which technically is accurate.
"

Typical Jake. Making a joke out of a disaster.

"You soulless bastard." She put her cup down. "You're about to do something that will most likely take you away from me forever. You could end up like Maribel and Durga. Worse. You have no experience with trance."

"I'll have Lydia give me some pointers before the actual event."

"There is some time then." It felt like a huge weight rolled off Char's shoulders.

"A few days, maybe a week. Coming up from the kitchen, I met Luxor's guard captain. Khai has called together the city delegates present in the citadel to discuss Garrick's protest and the timing of the liminal gauntlet."

"Luxor called the delegates together."

"That Khai is impressive, yeah?" Jake poured himself another cup. "I need one of those second-in-command types. Gordon's performance lately has been promotion-worthy, don't you think?"

"Sanguibahd was not invited."

"Durga isn't able. Magda,
my mother
, has a conflict of interest. It makes sense that the cities should decide what to do."

"The gods specifically denounced democratic rule, Jake."

"A council of princes and poobahs isn't a democracy. Besides, when Durga is herself again, the little tyrant might overrule anything we decide."

Char put their cups on the tray and moved it to the floor.

"Jake, I understand why you have to run the gauntlet." She pushed him back against the pillows and straddled his hips. "I won't try to talk you out of it." She ran her fingers over his chest. "But I don't want to talk about cows or Spandau or Khai or Garrick or delegate councils." She leaned forward and grazed her nipples against his skin, moving up to kiss his earlobe. "This might be the last time we have an hour alone."

She kissed his jaw, his chin, his neck. She committed him to memory.
This is his clavicle. This is the articulation of his shoulder and arm. This is his sternum, shielding his heart. This is the way his heart beats. The middle toe on his left foot sticks out farther than the second toe. His ears are smaller than you would think. One eye is slightly larger than the other. His voice is warm and rolls over me in waves like soft thunder. He fits me as if the gods made him only for me. Me. Not any chalice.

Jake ran his hands through her hair and held her so tight she could barely breathe. "I'll come through it, Char." There was no joking in his voice. "I will live. Nothing is going to take me from you."

-
oOo
-

Durga thought she might explode with heat. Khai's lips were warm and demanding. She was aware of his hand on her shoulder. She wished he would move it to her breast. She put her arms around his shoulders. Was it possible for a human being to erupt in flames?

Khai must have a soul. Could she feel this way about someone who didn't? Approaching the void in Jake had been terrifying. She'd felt herself slipping closer to it, on the verge of being lost. Then Jake's touch had been too much for Maribel to handle. Maribel had let go of Durga and fallen into the void herself.

Durga didn't care now about manners or breaching boundaries. It was too important. She had to know. She let her analytical mind fall to the wayside and withdrew to an interior place, out of the world and still aware of it.

Khai's breathing, his long black eyelashes brushing against her cheeks when he kissed her, his strong forehead, his hot desire.

She moved past his body, past his mind, to his inner core. There. Yes. She wanted to burst out laughing, she was so happy. It was there. The sense of the fullness and depth. The sense of uncontained eternal existence.

"What are you doing?" Khai broke away from her kiss, alarm and a little fear on his face.

"What do you mean?" He shouldn't have sensed anything.

"It felt like you were inside me, in tandem with my thoughts."

"Don't worry."

"So I was right."

"I…yes. Yes." Why deny it? What had she done?

"I think I feel violated." Khai stood up and went over to the window. The light was brighter. He'd taken off his gold ornaments, but he looked as noble without them.

She felt miserable. He was angry, and he had a right to be. He came back to the bed and sat down. Again he took her hand and said, so gently that she felt even worse, "Why did you do that?"

"I shouldn't have done it. But you're not a chalice. You shouldn't have felt it. I didn't expect such a powerful connection between us."

He seemed to like that answer. "But what was the point?"

"I had to know if you had a soul."

"I see." He was quiet for a minute. Then he lifted one eyebrow. "Do I?"

"Yes."

"Good to know."

They talked, and she discovered that they were not at all alike. Khai loved politics. Durga hated politics with the heat of a thousand suns going nova.

"It's why I came to Corcovado with the Versailles delegation," Khai said. "I was visiting their city."

"On a goodwill tour."

"Exactly. In ancient times among the city-states, ruling families sent their future kings to visit each of their rivals. The custom was you could not violate someone who had been a guest in your home. The guest-host journey is a key to understanding our differences and similarities without killing each other."

"It makes sense." She'd rather be kissing than talking.

"It does make sense. Now I have met Ithaca and Hibernia. Spandau."

"Garrick."

"Yes, Garrick. No bonds of friendship there, I'm afraid. But I understand the city more clearly, and Luxor will be better equipped to deal with Garrick in the future."