Life is a maze in which we take the wrong turn before we have learnt to walk.
Some time, in a place that was and is the abbey, that is in this world and in Dream
She is coming.
I can feel her, that nasty bitch, like a tooth ache or a splinter. She nearly killed me, and I still suffer for it. Partly it was my own fault, for not remembering that silly service gods like her love to throw themselves on their own swords to look ( Read more... )
She is coming.
I can feel her, that nasty bitch, like a tooth ache or a splinter. She nearly killed me, and I still suffer for it. Partly it was my own fault, for not remembering that silly service gods like her love to throw themselves on their own swords to look ( Read more... )
(Again. It dares again. Snivelling little whinging teeth-pricking slinking nightmare sulk of tales and thorns, and how many gods ever took to mind death, honoured or minded it--well enough I would not expect better, but when I see the freight of fangs and claws that has been put upon he who is upon the mountain
he who dwells within the chamber
righteous Judge to the Balance
my teeth could crack.)
Keeper of poisons and medicines; it is only in the dose that a poison is a poison. So what lives here makes of all things that it can a poison; but Anubis is his own thing, at the heart of it. Gatekeeper, it's true, but here and now he is also a bearer of the scales, to weigh a heart of the dead against a feather...
To set the heart upon a balanced scale.
Lift up my hands; the bandage has unravelled, tatters of thread and blood dripping behind me. Maybe Hermia and Syl and Chester can follow, I don't know; never, all else aside, met a cat that couldn't chase a string. Unclasp the cloak and throw it out like a net, and the feathers of it come loose in a cloud, feathers that drive the needle-thin weight of their quills against the scale, sending the balance swinging wild and loosing the feather that was there in a cloud of others.
Pray he'll mind his balance and mend that afore he goes looking for hearts to cut out.
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"Hey, Dogface!" One of them is calling to me in it's strange language, it would seem. I turn my gaze I can't see. Why can't I open my eyes? upon it, small and flame-haired like a follower of the Bringer of Chaos and my anger grows. It's soul is foul and flecked and it makes me clench my teeth.
Detestable vermin, that wish to darken the realm beyond with your foulness! My words are not of voice but of thought so confused, this is not where I belong and wind, so much more elegant than these mewlings. Kneel and prepare for judgement. It raises a blade towards me instead in response and I almost laugh. It is unworthy and shall be devoured by Ammut, surely. But I must perform my task. The scale is ready.
And so we raise my blade, as it will not give it's heart willingly, this is not how this is supposed to go! I am sure. I can't stop, please no, I will not kill again!
My scar throbs, like a pulse, like a heartbeat not my own. But it is my own, it is mi-
Our hand is steady but the vermin is quick, only glanced by my blade. Another raises it's hand, a small metal device within. Perhaps an offering, an attempt to placate me? But it is incorrect and of no interest to me, so I move to sweep it aside-
And the tiniest sound, the snap of a hair. The pull of a string. Suddenly the air is choked with wait, I know these feathers.
My scales! It dares strike the Balance! How do I know The scales have swung too far, and Ma'at is obscured. My rage swells and finds voice in the shuddering of the earth around me, and the foul thing before me is black, blacker than any feathers & stone & hair creature, it's soul heavy with the sins of centuries!
the girl who died. There was a sword, & a cloak- Our chest throbs at the sight of it. This thing is not like the others. It has already died at the gate, in the dream, I remember!, and yet it lives. A khat re-animated, yet holding it's sins as if it never was judged. It should not be!
What is this abomination? My blade raises, ready to strike it down. No. I must right the scales, I must do my duty. Keep the Balance. And our chest throbs again...
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All of the objects that signify the people of Excolo and bind us together, I am collecting in myself. The gold circle on my wrist. The dragon's tooth. The nail. Glass's blood. The tiny threads of power left over from the spell that Syl and I cast, the power that we share.
And my wedding ring, too, for even though it is not an object of Power in the way that the others are, it binds and bonds us in its circle just as surely as everything else.
What does it mean? I do not know yet, but I feel that I will know the meaning soon.
Glass hands over something else, then - a thread, the thin white edge of the bandage. Before I can say anything more, she says, "You're right; 'm sorry," - and then she is gone.
I fling my hand out to catch the bandage, and I am running before I know it, hurtling faster than I knew, pulled by something or someone or…
The world shifts.
Settles.
Bursts into noise.
People shouting - Wanda waving a sword, Nanshe and Jack - and dear gods, what is happening to Jack? Power thrums through me, radiating out from him and -
- and Valmont is here.
It is relief that makes my tears spill out at last. Thank all the gods in this world and the next - Valmont is here.
But there is no time. There never is, not here. There will be no time to think or feel until this is done. Because we are facing down a great creature with a jackal head. Detestable vermin, that wish to darken the realm beyond with your foulness! Kneel and prepare for judgement. it proclaims, its voice ringing with iron chill in my mind.
Anubis. I rack my brains - what do I know of this? Whose dream is he? He judges with the scales in his hand, and…feathers, that is what he wants. Feathers, to weigh against the hearts of the dead.
Glass has had the same thought too - she flings her cloak at him, with its feathers half of dream. Smothering, fluttering,
And then two more thoughts strike me. First, that sometimes he was compared to Hermes. What does it mean that my name is close to his? A coincidence - but names have power, and if there is anything that I can use to clear our path, I must seize on it.
And second, that his daughter is the one who gives water to the dead. And we have water, plenty of it. If the feathers that he craves can smother him, perhaps the water can too.
I turn back to the river - still rippling behind us - and scoop up a handful. And the tear that is trickling down my face. A tear for the dead and for the living.
I whisper a few murmured words, the words that make an object grow.
And then I throw my hands forward, and a stream of water rushes forward to wash over the great creature in front of us.
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And suddenly the world ripples, just for a moment, sky bending and opening, and -
Hermia.
Oh gods I don't worship: thank you, thank you.
Then I watch in astonishment as she sends a great stream of water at the beast.
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Okay, no witty retorts for this one. I manage to dodge and deflect him a few times before my luck runs out and my left arm is nicked and I am thrown to the side. In my haze I hear a gun shot, and then Valmont is beside me, sitting me up and binding my arm...
than then things really get strange.
Glass and feathers and the world rippling and Hermia and water and...
"Well isn't that a thing?" I say to Valmont with amusement, and start to chuckle. "Told you she was close." Chuckle some more.
I think this may all be a bit too much for my mind to process.
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I hastily back off to one side. Don't want to get in between anyone from our side and that giant dog faced man shaped nightmare. This place feels even more hostile to us than the water or the maze.
Catch a glimpse of Nanshe busy weaving something out of straw and is that the deputy in there? No time to figure it out though, I can feel that same awful hunger for pain and the way the whole fabric of the dreamstuff changes when it's around. Oh god, did it follow me here? Did it come though my gate? I spin round trying to spot where it might be.
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"You're not meant for this, are you?" Low mild voice, like talking to a dog out of its yard gone mean and looking to bite. "Ought be waiting for all things in their manner and time." Doubt he'll listen but it's coming out of me regardless; and, well, it's not so much as to take breath away from moving.
Feel a change in the weight of things when the water goes flying, tide-pull that leaves me blinking and staggering for a moment afore I'm steady on my feet again. Turn my head to see Hermia at least's here then; aright, that, and Valmont's looking to see to Wanda bleeding, though for a dull moment I can't sort which of them ought be carrying the sword. Still, we've found the others, and there's a gate here, isn't there? Moving well enough along.
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So I shall just have to collect their hearts first.
I secret Ma'at into my skin, my wrist bearing her mark for safe keeping. Another has come, to join the other creatures against my rightful task, and I turn to face it. I sense Power here! Something in it's soul is... strange. It is no doubt marred as the others, and yet... a calling, a familiarity is she like me? A mage?
"You're not meant for this, are you?" The voice of the abomination, it's whisper fills my ears. "Ought be waiting for all things in their manner and time." What does it know no, please, listen, she's right of a god's calling?! This is not who we are! Our chest throbs again, almost painful. We bring my hand to my heart-
A second's pause is too long, and the new creature has taken advantage of my distraction with it's perverted power, pulling water to its aid. The river who guards the gods with your shadows flows from it's hands and I am unbalanced, staggered. But we do not fall. Water showers over us, casting rivulets until I am surrounded by the redirected river. Surely this one has hoped to trap me-
And so I lay the scales upon the surface of the water and call to her. The devourer of the dead, the eater of hearts. For soon she shall surely feast. And I cannot help but smile at the thought.
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and the dog-god is calling through the waters his daughter pours out
and the final measure is waiting and empty, to be filled
and truth is hidden but I can dig deep and find it
and the one who takes away the bodies of the dead
the one who eats the sins of the dead
bring her up through the water
and I hear the scream of bones splitting around teeth, the crackle of suckled marrow in my ears. The taste of sin in my mouth, the smooth weight of them slipping down my throat, to wait inside like riverstones or sleeping eggs.
The eating of the sin; the rage at wrongs done to the peace of death; the devouring hunger.
As you call that/
I am come.
The Judge has set down his Balance. He has no shield from me. He has called me but he does not govern; and the Truth hoarded like softening meat; and the judgment turned to tools of bloodshed; and the harm done to those not called...
Devourer I am, and sweetest meat and greatest wrong stand before me. I lunge for him, and he is taller but I am greater, and draw him against me, and drag him into my waters.
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- oh my, how did I not see it?
This is Excolo - the gods are so close to us that sometimes we cannot see them, and strangeness is so common that we cannot see that it is strange. Of course Glass will take the shape and role of Anubis's daughter, the dog-god's daughter, the one who takes the hearts of the dead - the sins of the dead.
And I will make sure that she can.
I draw more Power into myself and send it forth through my hands in another gush of water, the river that Am-mit needs for her crocodile-hippopotamus-self, the water that holds both life and death. It fills my ears with its rushing, shakes my hands with its thunderous force, but I stand strong, and give my friend the river.
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That feelin' goes away real quick when I hear him call out an' Glass starts respondin'. Her form blurs n'seems to mingle with a form I do recognize. Oh crap. But then she goes after the big nasty an' that'd be alright 'cept for one little thing. As the two of 'em get to grapplin' I catch sight a his chest.
There's someone curled up in there, n' I c'n just make out a face. Silence. That mage from the carnival who was gonna have a talk with Hermia n' Mab. That ain't a good sign. I remember back when we met there was this sense a something more than just a human skilled with magic. Guess now we got an idea what she was hidin'. I leap up on top a the two forms thrashin' around in the water yellin'.
"Silence!Yo, Mage! Wakey wakey!"
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They are distracted by nightmares. Good. In the form of a child I start quietly edging toward where the bitch and her scarecrow are trying to undo my work.
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As you call that/
I am come.
But it is not her? The form, surely, but still I see the abomination behind her crocodile eyes. This- she is wrong-
And she lunges, claws out, jaws snapping, and I stumble. I try to find recognition in her eyes, but she is all rage! I grasp at her, trying to push her away, but her jaws find purchase on my shoulder. My bellow shakes the ground and air.
Ammt, stop this! I call to her, not knowing if she hears me. The waters come again, and her grip is too strong. Release me! She means to pull me under the swelling water. I have her claws in my hands, the scales swinging wildly, but her jaws refuse to release.
Have- have I sinned? Is this why she scrapes at my chest and gnaws my shoulder - have I failed my duty? Our eyes are wide as we fall backwards. The blade is thrown clear but I do not see where it falls. Ammit will drag me under and devour me and I do not know if I will die or suffer endless wandering torment. Unless- I can show her.
I release one of her claws and raise my hand to our chest. Our heart.
"Silence! Yo, Mage! Wakey wakey!"
And she pulls me under. Water fills our lungs as she rolls.
something small & white & so very familiar, just at that last moment, I can hear it, I hear you. Chester!
I grip my claws into my chest. Our heart, Ahemait, bone eater. Our skin tears, our ribs crack. My eyes! I can see! Chester, can you hear me?! It is pounding now, such that it may loose itself from my breast. What are you doing?!
I can see but it's all a nightmare. Muscle & bone & blood & I'm all wrapped up in it. There's a pulsing, pulsing all around, like to burst my head with the pressure. My scar is throbbing in time with it. I reach up to touch it- oh gods. There's something in my back? Coming from my shoulder along the scar to my back. I can't get a good view but I swear it looks like tubes-
No. Veins & arteries. Oh gods. I'm his heart. He's tearing me out!
Focus, focus! Hear the rhythm, use it, find the Pattern. We've been used, twisted & distorted by this place, but I can fix it, I know I can fix it! Before I, we, hurt anyone else. Anubis is still trying to tear me out of my chest, and the Ammit-woman seems lost in her rage. You must stop! we say aloud, both to it & myself, our voices merging. Because I really don't know what might happen if he tears me away...
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My eye catches on a child sneaking towards Nanshe and whatever she and the deputy are building. They seem very normal and innocent, though perhaps far too calm for anyone witnessing the messy brutal fight between Glass and the giant nightmare man, which strikes me as very out of place. Ah...I think I know who this must be. I hope I guessed right.
Take a deep breath, raise the metal bar in my hands, and step into their path.
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But somethin' more important's happ'nin'. Nanshe's tryin' t'close th'door, anna kid's approachin'er. Even if'n'ere wuzza reason ferra kid t'be'ere, m'shark's heart sings't th'sight ovver. She smells've blood 'n salt.
Step in fronta'er. "Hello, asshole."
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Glass is not Glass anymore, yet she is.
People are yelling, and screaming.
There's a little girl who does not sound like a little girl at all.
My head thrums with the noise. I whimper and shut my eyes and try try try to block it all out!
But beneath it all, so very far away... there's a woman calling out. Muffled, obscured, calling to the Dog God, calling to Chester... calling for help. Impossible to think, but she's there, in the hound.
Fine. I can focus on her. Just her. Everything else falls away, and I rise unsteadily and edge toward the battle. "Silence." That's her name, yes.
"Silence!" My voice rings out, towards the Dog God, through it, right to her. "Silence, I hear you." Pitch my tone to what I can hear within the woman trapped in the god. I can almost see the air resonate with my voice. I am the Muse, the Siren, the Harpy, the Bean-Sidhe, and I can alter minds and change worlds with a word, a song, a scream.
"Silence! Follow my voice! Grab the sound, and pull yourself free!"
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