Day 4 – Intercession?
“Although I am incarcerated, I still feel as though I should thank you for providing me with chambers,” Eadric said.
“Then you certainly should, Ahma.” Shomei sat with a look of intense concentration on her face. She was carving a block of Hazel-wood with a slender knife; chips and shavings gathered at the floor beneath her feet. Her hands were a blur, moving with uncanny speed and precision.
“You seem to have none of your own,” Eadric observed. “Yet you have a reputation for ostentation.”
“In quieter days, I have more time for relaxation,” she nodded.
“Then there is some place in the library set aside for you?”
“I make rooms here as I feel the need, Ahma. It is no great matter. A parlor, a drawing room, a hall or bedchamber.” The wood had begun to assume the form of a human-shaped figurine.
“You also sleep more in quieter days?”
“Yes. But I sleep by the fire, Ahma.”
“Ah,” he nodded. “Chambers for entertaining your devilish lovers, then.”
“Yes, Ahma.” She regarded him with amusement. “Do I detect a note of judgment in your voice?”
“I am hardly one to judge,” Eadric replied.
“Indeed, Ahma.” The wood in Shomei’s hand had become a recognizable female shape, with slender limbs.
“And mortals?” He inquired. “They hold no interest for you?”
She paused and raised an eyebrow. “This line of questioning is becoming personal, Ahma.”
“I apologize. I did not mean to embarrass you.”
“You will not. Mortals are frail, and lack stamina, Ahma.”
“Then devils are…adequate to your needs? You have not sought to look beyond the Infernal?”
“Only once, Ahma.” Shomei blew hard upon the carving, and dust flew from it. She wiped it in her robe, and smiled. “I was declined, if you recall. But adequate? – yes; devils might surprise you with their tenderness, and are subtle and inventive in all matters.”
She presented a statuette to him. It was exquisite: a work far surpassing genius; its line and proportion were perfect. An Eleos with her left hand raised aloft, bearing a star; a clod of earth, from which flowers sprang, was in her right.
“This is extraordinary,” he gaped. “Although, I admit, your choice of subject matter is perplexing. Why do you need an idol?”
She shrugged. “Art is art, Ahma. And it is for you, not me. I do not require an external focus, but should you feel the need for an object of veneration, then you have one.”
He felt it; it made his hands tingle. “It is enchanted?”
“Of course, Ahma. It was carved by Shomei the Infernal from the wood of a Hazel scion. How could it not be?”
“Thank-you,” he nodded. He placed it gently upon the table.
“I should be about…”
“…your conjurations.” Eadric sighed. “Yes, I know. Shomei, is there nothing which I can say or do to dissuade you from this course of action?”
“I do not believe so, Ahma.”
“I cannot beg, cajole, threaten or otherwise impress my frustration and unhappiness regarding your choices upon you?”
“No, Ahma.”
“Then my words have no meaning to you?”
“In this, they cannot,” she shook her head, and stood.
“Why not? I am the Ahma in this matter no less than any other.”
“We have had this conversation already, Ahma.”
“Perhaps we should have it again.”
“Things were going well,” Shomei groaned. “Why do you bring me back here?”
“Because you need to be here, Shomei. The Reattainment of Luminance? What was it to you? What did you read?”
“Another time, Ahma.” She was becoming irritable; angry. Hellfire slowly began to crawl over her hands.
“No. Now. I want to hear it.” He held her wrist. His flesh burned; he ignored it.
“Ahma, do not force me to…”
“There is no external force acting on you, Shomei. Only your own choice.”
“Please let go of my wrist, Eadric. You will hurt yourself.”
He nodded. “Now we’re getting somewhere…”
There was a knock at the door.
Her fire died abruptly; she extricated her hand. Eadric gave a puzzled look. “Were you expecting someone?”
Shomei sighed. “No. But there is only one person who can treat the Hazel’s cordon with impunity, Ahma.” She walked to the door and opened it.
Nehael – or rather a Nehael – stood there, her hands held behind her back. It was not a Nehael with whom the Ahma was altogether familiar.
*
“Am I interrupting?” Nehael asked.
“Yes,” Shomei answered. “We were having an argument.”
“May I come in?”
“Yes,” Eadric interjected before Shomei could speak.
“Hello, Eadric,” Nehael smiled. “Thank-you, but that choice is not yours to make.”
“Where are your weapons?” Shomei inquired. “Shouldn’t you be shooting ghouls or something?”
Weapons? Eadric had the distinct notion that he was behind the times.
“I should still like to come in,” Nehael insisted.
“Shomei?” Eadric looked at her.
“Very well,” Shomei sighed, waving her in.
Nehael entered, and regarded the figurine of the Eleos. “You are no mean talent, Shomei.”
“You have something behind your back?” Eadric asked.
“This?” Nehael produced a sprig of Holly. Eadric’s hackles rose. “Yes; I found it nearby. It’s been growing there for a little while. Didn’t you know?”
“No.” Shomei scowled.
“It may be connected with the seven hundred fallen exemplars who are nearby,” Nehael suggested.
“Seven hundred?” Eadric asked in horror.
“Shomei works fast, Eadric.”
The Infernalist gave a nonchalant shrug.
“The Holly scion is not yet awake,” Nehael added. “But there again, Azazel is not here yet, either. I am surprised that you invoked me at this late stage.”
“I was not aware that I did,” Eadric sighed.
“Not you, Eadric.” Nehael picked up the statuette of the Eleos and handed it to Shomei. “Devotional art made from a Hazel by the Antinomos for the Ahma is likely to gain my attention.”
“You are not the Eleos,” Shomei observed.
“I was the nearest available avatar,” Nehael smiled.
Shomei replaced the figurine on the table. “If you believe that a red dress and a bad attitude are likely to impress me, you can think again. You will divert me from my purpose no more effectively than the Ahma.”
“No, Shomei,” Nehael sighed. “That I will not. The choice is yours. It always is. May I speak briefly with Eadric?”
“Yes. He is right here.”
“Alone, Shomei?”
“But of course,” Shomei replied acidly, gesturing toward the timber door. “He has his own cell, now.”
“Thank-you.”
Eadric sat in stunned silence.
Shomei ushered them away, and poured kschiff.
**
“It is good to see you,” Nehael smiled. She had declined a chair, and sat on the floor in effortless saizhan. There was a dynamic quality about her that Eadric had not before encountered; she seemed entirely grounded and embodied. He recalled Soneillon’s words, and understood that, although spoken lightly, they had not been altogether in jest.
“I am bewildered, Nehael.” Eadric confessed.
“I have come to expect it,” Nehael nodded.
“You sit in saizhan…”
“I am a syncretic deity, Eadric.”
“Your posture is better than mine,” he added.
“Things are moving rapidly, Ahma. You need to resolve this situation as quickly as possible and return to Galda.”
“I have been trying.”
“Where are you in your dialogue with Shomei?”
Eadric sighed. “I do not know. I cannot fathom her. She is complex.”
Nehael nodded. “She is a devil, Ahma, and an I. Prior to that, she was the most gifted mage of her generation – perhaps of any generation. Complex does not even begin to cover her.”
Eadric sighed. “She chose to trust me: she left herself completely vulnerable to me; I might have slain her, and spared us all from what will likely ensue.”
“But you did not.”
“No.” Eadric said. “It would have been an act of violation against Truth. She is utterly authentic.”
“Nor yet did you marry her,” Nehael smiled wrily.
“I did not know her as I have come to.”
“Then you regret your decision?” Nehael asked with raised eyebrows.
“No. I regret that not all opportunity can be realized. But I made a choice. I stand by it.”
“I am sure Soneillon will be pleased,” Nehael spoke in a droll voice. “Or at least, not wrathful and vindictive.”
“Self-preservation also informs my perspective,” Eadric admitted.
“And Nehael?” She inquired. “Where do you stand with regard to her? To me?”
“That relationship is different.”
“Why?” She asked. “Am I not desirable?”
Eadric looked at her and groaned. “Yes.”
“You somehow believe me less lustful?”
“Well…”
“Would you deem me less unattainable than previously?”
His head reeled. “Yes?”
“Do not worry, Eadric.” She laughed. “I am not pressing a claim upon the highly-coveted Ahma.”
“That is a relief,” he sighed.
“But then again, I wouldn’t, would I?”
“No…?” He said unsurely.
“I am Compassion, Ahma. Possessiveness is not in my nature. Saizha?”
*
“Are you quite finished?” Shomei asked irritably.
[Nehael]: This is what we exchanged [information].
Eadric stared at Nehael in disbelief. Shomei raised an eyebrow and analyzed.
“You need not look betrayed, Eadric,” Nehael sighed. “I do not hide anything for the purpose of manipulation, and neither should you. And it was Shomei who invoked me, not you. I will see myself out.”
Nehael departed.
“Perhaps celibacy is best,” Eadric sat wearily.
Shomei handed him a glass of kschiff. “You would not be the first mystic to come to this conclusion, Ahma.”
“What next?” He asked.
“Well,” Shomei smiled. “First, I will have a drink. And then I will return…”
“…to your conjurations. Yes. I suppose I should know the drill by now. Shomei, as I didn’t kill you, I feel that you might indulge me. I should like some diabolic company in your absence.”
Shomei looked sceptical. “Very well, Ahma. But I should warn you that devilish courtesans can be difficult. Lagusuf might serve; her skin is…”
“Intellectual company, Shomei.”
“Very good, Ahma.” She considered briefly.
A gate opened, and a tall, strikingly beautiful female devil with violet eyes emerged. She was clad in white; her hair was arranged in an elaborate coiffure.
“Shomei…”
“This is Nercamay, Ahma. An infernal muse. You need not be distracted by her full lips and rapid, shallow breath. Nor her heady perfume and natural tactility. She is both intellectual and company: she is a scholar of some renown; her mind is exquisitely perverse and convoluted.”
“As is yours,” Eadric said.
“Thank-you, Ahma. Nercamay, you may attend to the Ahma’s needs: perhaps it might be best if you made no attempt to seduce him; it may cause him undue distress. Did you have some topic in mind to discuss?”
“Actually, yes,” Eadric reached for the The Reattainment of Luminance. “You will give me lessons in diabolic heresies, won’t you Nercamay?”
Shomei sighed. The Ahma was nothing, if not persistent. She exited the cottage.
*
Nercamay smiled gently, sat next to Eadric, and opened the book in her lap. She smelled of jasmine and orchids.
“How familiar are you with the sevenfold hermeneutic?” She asked in a soft voice. Her hand immediately began to wander. Eadric replaced it.
“Very little,” Eadric admitted.
“It’s very warm in here, Ahma…”
“You are a devil; I am sure you will cope.”
“Are your chambers cooler?”
“Just read,” Eadric said through gritted teeth.
**