She reached into the bed and fumbled for something delicate, slippery, slightly covered in moisture. Lilies, both water lilies and garden lilies, werent here yesterday, but now the flowers were scattered across the bed and the floor. They gave off a sweet smell, but not like his skin.
She straddled his naked shoulders, marveling again at how the gold engraved bracelets on them had practically become part of his flesh. The cold body still evoked a fiery passion. She felt a flash of fire inside her, perhaps a man she would have burned with her kiss, but not him, the beautiful lips remained soft. But the lilies around them began to turn black and curl up from the fire that flashed on the petals. The flowers were turning black, but the bodies woven among them remained white. Madeels wing would have been unburned, even if he had touched the fire. But now the slight twitching of those wings made the fires in the tent go out a little. And yet the flowers withered inexorably, withering and exuding the smell of burning. She didnt care. Rhianon ran her hand through his golden hair, feeling the curls immediately braid her fingers like a net. Her eyelashes touched his. It seemed that in another moment she would open her eyelids and see dead sapphires in the place of his real eyes, like the beasts skins in a tent. So be it. Even that didnt scare her. And the fire didnt scare her anymore. You can burn yourself now. There would be nothing better than this moment.
Youre like marble, she thought, feeling him inside her again.
And youre made of fire, she thought back.
Later, she leaned back on the soft white hide laid on the side of the bed. Madael gently stroked her neck and thin shoulders with his hand. She was the first to sense that there was someone in the tent besides them. Someone was trying to convey her thoughts, but it was not her lover. The one who had just wandered the bleak city and country roads was now standing at the entrance to the tent. For a moment, Rhianon saw with his eyes the scant light on the rutted roadway and the strange creature that wandered there, seemingly neither demon nor human, but something in between. It wasnt very beautiful, but there was obviously a fairy-tale beauty slumbering inside it. Rhianon could see it even through the alien eyes of the one who was transmitting the visual images to her. It is strange why this being is now so wretched and lost and miserable. He has a great talent. She did not know exactly what was in his purse: a brush, a pen, or a musical instrument, but she was sure it was part of his talent. Beneath the skimpy garment there was light, but it was obscured by pain. This incredibly beautiful, but unknowingly vilified creature would perish if he did not find his own special way to salvation. She suddenly felt sharply sorry for him. Pain pierced her heart like a sharp splinter. This creature is part of Madaels troops. Rhianon wanted to see something else, but she couldnt see anything else. Only a voice could be heard now.
It is the Cathedral of Thunder! Its path lies in the Cathedral of Thunder! Where we all die in agony, to
She lifted her head above the pillow. Curls slid down her back like golden snakes, catching the hand that caressed her. She felt Madael tense.
He hissed something fast and harsh. The words left an unpleasant residue. Rhianon blinked to see a colorful figure materialize on the threshold. At first it was only a cloud, giving off a vague mottle, the more time passed, the brighter it became.
To regain its former appearance, were the last words she could not hear. Rhianon looked questioningly at Madael, but he was now sizzling with his gaze at the entrant. His blue eyes, black with anger, seemed to be about to burst into flames, and fire turpentine dripped from his lashes instead of moisture.
How dare you
His low but menacing whisper seemed to make the walls themselves tremble.
Orpheus looked rather bewildered as he climbed into the tent.
I What? What? He clearly had no intention of leaving. Not right away.
Out, Madael raised his head menacingly, and put his hand to the hilt of his sword. But if you want to become a pile of ashes
Now Orpheus did retreat toward the exit. The reaction was instantaneous.
Forgive me, Your Majesty, he mumbled guiltily, and a second later he was blown away like the wind. Rhianon still looked questioningly at the scarlet curtained exit of the tent, it did not even sway and the guest himself had disappeared, but the address Your Majesty so much reminded her. She could deduce, however, that he was not addressing her. But what shocked her most was how quickly he obeyed. She turned her gaze to Madael in surprise. He was sleepily brushing back tangled curls from his forehead and looking very young, but she seemed only to be convinced that the spirits considered him a king.
It never worked out that way for me, she nodded to where Orpheus had stood recently, the ground seemed to be burning beneath his feet there, and he still wanted to stay here. Is it next to her or to him? Probably with her, Rhianon judiciously decided, because the spirits were not very keen on intimacy with Madael. They were afraid of him, yes, they seemed to be, but that was something she didnt understand. With him it was so easy, no need to think about any problems, because he solved everything instantly. Even the mediocre Orpheus listened to him. And with her he played the naughty child.
You have to be tougher and tougher with them, Madael was still sizzling his eyes into the empty space by the exit, and his gaze seemed able to burn through the empty space.
Then he softened and quickly pulled her to him, as if to prove, not to the spirit, but to the emptiness around them, that he would not give up his prey to anyone. It was his possessive instinct. He is a conqueror after all, a warrior, a victor Rhianon grinned. It felt good to feel his embrace, but her thoughts of Orpheus still wouldnt let her calm down. What was this place? What did he mean? Who is the wanderer who seeks his terrible fate in the Cathedral of Thunder, something terrible is there, but it is impossible not to go there, because it is even more terrible to stay here on earth. Thus the terrifying path is inescapable, but beyond it lies liberation and darkness. Rhianon huddled tighter against Madael. Beside him it was possible to escape the fear that stretched to the consciousness as if with pincers. It was good that the nearness of the angel was soothing and calming.
She was half lying on top of him. He ran his hand through her golden curls and seemed to rub her hair in such a way that all bad thoughts receded from that touch. How simple it was, he could have saved a madman with his light touch, or he could have driven her mad, but she was no longer afraid of him. He made her feel so good.
What is this place Cathedral of Thunder? She asked, falling asleep.
The place where heaven and hell met, he could have avoided answering, as he always did, but somehow he told her everything. It is the cornerstone in the architecture of the entire universe, and of all worlds. A place that is the receptacle of evil and yet it is blessed because we are all reborn there again. Any of my lost angels can become the same again if they find their way there and perform the ritual. Their consciousness, imprisoned in a human body, still holds all their former knowledge. If only they have the strength to overcome the madness and the conviction that they are only human, and the road from paradise is not their fantasy, then they return to their paradise. It is a gloomy paradise with intricate colonnades and dormant statues. Beneath the enormous dome is a hall, and on its marble floor so many sacrifices have already been made that it is difficult to count. Only a few of them have ended in death. There are some people who want to be mistaken and identify themselves with my troops. Such people perish. It would be the same if a man imagined himself a bird and threw himself into flight. Their entrails remain on the floor and those who do manage to eat the bodies. The others, fragments of my army, remain dead for only a few seconds its not death, really, but an eerie suspension between the real world and the spirit world that dwells in the cathedral. Both worlds are alien for a moment.
And then? She gripped his arm harder so that she almost scratched her side, but he didnt even notice. If he says what she hopes, shell even give him another kiss.
Then their wings grow back, but if youve seen the agony they are beating in a moment before. Only a few minutes pass, and they manage to endure on the marble floor all the pain I have endured in eternity. It comes over each of them in a black wave and drives them insane. A moment seems endless.
And you sit on the high parapet like a statue, watching indifferently as others take in your pain. Sometimes you are even satisfied when you realize that you are not the only one who has suffered the most. Others have gone through the same thing.
Yeah, how do you know?
I guess I can see it in your mind, she admitted uncertainly, afraid of what would follow.
You can keep looking, he said graciously. I can show you everything.
Why?
Because you, my twin, are part of me, he squeezed her shoulders tighter.
And that means that one day Ill have to suffer like you, there in the cathedral or somewhere else she herself was frightened by her hunch.
It is not you, he quickly objected, I wont allow it. You dont know what its like.
Im afraid to find it, and yet if its the only way.
Her lips touched lily-scented skin in a long kiss.
There are other ways to immortality. Suffering is not necessary.
Is that what you say?
I prefer to leave suffering to others, but not to myself and not to you.
You speak of me as something close to you.
But thats the way it is.
Yes, I think so, she wasnt sure. Its always hard to believe in something that is too desirable. Becoming part of someone who is the most beautiful and powerful, it was too good. For a second she remembered the god, the suffering, the destiny that was forever setting her up for it. The gods chosen are always suffering, and Dennitsa is to blame. The gods first favorite betrayed him and now everyone he loved after his first chosen one suffers. She suffered the most, for she had been chosen to take his place. And she didnt want to remember it anymore. No one wants to be a toy that is expertly guided through a thorny labyrinth of pain to lead to some intended goal. Why is everything so complicated? Why must everyone suffer for the fault of one? And why did this one choose to save her rather than kill her, as he first wanted? Rhianon buried her face in the comforting shoulder, felt even more strongly the scent of lilies and some peculiar, unlike anything else, but pleasant smell of his skin. It immediately brought back memories of gold and rye fields and fairy valleys. No one had ever loved her but him. She was loved only by the devil, the one who should hate everyone, and also her society was desired by the fairies. Everything had worked out so strangely, but she regretted nothing. It was good when at least someone loved you, and it did not matter who they were, as long as you loved them in return. And there was no fear that one day it would end in betrayal, war, division of power, or hurtful words. Madael was proving that he could be trusted. She just couldnt believe herself. The desire to return or destroy Loretta had become so strong that it would have cost nothing to rip open her own guts for it. The terrifying journey to the Cathedral of Thunder didnt scare her so much anymore. Some things are worth the sacrifice. You just have to find enough courage to make them. The thought that someone had walked this path before her cheered her up a bit.
Dragons Valley
Rhianon woke up alone. Though her bed was crumpled, the empty space beside her was unpleasantly startling. It seemed that everything that had happened could only have been a dream. And there really was no deity to hug her at night. There was only fantasy.
She put a hand to her head, kneading the already disheveled strands of long hair. Her consciousness burned as if it, too, had been burned. It seemed that as she lost Madael, she lost her mind as well. Was this how a man who had slept with a fallen angel should feel. The angel is no longer around, and you begin to lose your mind without him.
If she leaves here, theres a completely empty world waiting for her. Only Rhianon was somehow sure that if she became queen again, that Madael would follow her. He would rule with her, or rather stand beside her throne, like a dragon guarding her. For him, the earthly realm is but a toy, and he can give the toy to her and remain the force that invisibly rules all. Rianon would have been fine with this course of events. She would have her own bodyguard, her own personal dragon. With him at her side, she would not have to fear for her own power. And the bonds that held him back were they still there, or was his bond with the sky fraying?
Rhianon wondered. Could she live without him now? Would it be possible for her to leave this tent without completely losing her mind? She decided to try. She got out of bed, found on the floor an outfit she had never seen before, and a lace gown. A luxurious dress with wide sleeves and bodice embroidered with pearls fit her just right. She put it on effortlessly. She could feel them crawling lightly down her back and braiding into an intricate knot. Rhianon examined herself in the mirror. She liked the cut and finish of the outfit very much. The only thing missing was a headpiece. The turtle comb, also trimmed with pearls, which was lying on the table, suited her very well. Before she could even think about taking it and sticking it in her hair, it was there. The strands at the back of her head were woven around it, forming a sort of hairstyle. Well, now she has at least a parody of a crown. Rhianon glanced smugly at the teeth of the comb that protruded from her hair. It was like a crown.
Queen of the Underwater Kingdom, she called herself, jokingly, smiling at her reflection. Youre covered in pearls, and you like the cooler shades of water because they stifle the fire within you.
Suddenly she was afraid of her own words. It was as if Madael were made of fire, of golden fire. By denying the fire, it was as if she was going to deny it, too. Well, no, she wasnt denying it. She would just have to see how she would feel without it.
Rhianon hoped that she would somehow manage to subdue the vigilance of the guards and get at least a little walk. She cautiously looked out of the tent and saw no one standing watch. The strange black bird was still flying over the spire of the tent. It was making strange noises, and its dark plumage shimmered in the sunset rays. Rhianons lips parted in amazement as she saw that the bird had a womans head. It was pretty. Her long, dark-blond hair hung awkwardly from her dark plumage. The blue eyes stared at Rhianon with genuine interest. Who knows her, this bird, her face is definitely female, but if its a fallen angel too, its not even a question of gender. They can appear to people as both male and female, but always invariably beautiful. Madael has a girlish face, too.
Rhianon suddenly realized that she liked this bird and could bribe her with a light flirtation. She put a finger to her lips, signaling silence. And the bird crouched on the spire and fell silent. She watched carefully as Rhianon walked away from the tent.
The sleeping or humming warriors below the valley disturbed Rhianon only slightly. She spotted a bypass path that no one was guarding. The rather narrow path was slippery and steep, but Rhianon didnt hesitate to follow it. She went down the mountain, taking dangerous turns and looping around a lot. The farther Rhianon went, the more grass she noticed on the side of the road. That meant the land wasnt far away. She was getting tired of being at altitude. The view from the mountains was dizzying. It made her sick. And it was unlikely she would have dared to follow that trail if that one offered a view downhill. But the curves hid it, and Rhianon moved on without knowing where she was going. She wanted to get as far away from the tent as possible to see how well she could feel away from it.