Dee's position had changed, too. She no longer felt excluded from the Madeleine and Penn club, as it had been dissolved, or, more like, exploded. How she wished that circumstances had been different!
Mrs Beale could no longer teach her magic charms, but she showed Dee how she could talk to her daughter growing within her.
She began to suggest that maybe Dee might consider becoming a healer after her baby was born, as if life could continue normally, as if they were not among the only people left in a village consumed by a demon.
Dee tried everything she could think of to bring Madeleine and Penn closer together. They both confided in her, at least. Penn's behaviour was unforgivable, of course, but he was young, and Dee knew he was still in love with Madeleine. He still spent long hours with Pamela, but, really, he had no choice, and the strange feeding was the only comfort available to the three of them.
Since they had removed the choker charms, only one protection lay between them and the demon, and the feeding was more intense. They could remember their dreams now, and began to learn the intimate inner life of all the people in the village who had been taken.
In a strange sort of way, it was if village life had not ended. It continued in this strange sort of dream world, with all those in Lilith's care swimming in a pleasant current of thoughts and emotions, no need for conversations, or drudgery, or malice.
---
Madeleine spent much of her time now spying on Tsanja with her mirror.
Tsanja had stopped coming to visit. It was obvious that Madeleine and Penn now held her in low regard, as had her mother for years now. It was very painful for her, and she had a lonely existence.
She continued with the church rituals, and tried to keep in place the deceptions which she hoped still kept Gynt from the prying eyes of the Church scryers. In her fallen state, she knew that her efforts would do little good.
Tsanja could not use her own scrying skills any more, either. Under the demon's influence, that skill had been as good as useless anyway.
The only images she had seen since the troubles had started were of herself, Madeleine and Dee, separately, holding their beautiful baby daughters, smiling, and laughing. She had told Madeleine and Dee of her visions, in happier times. Neither Tsanja nor Madeleine could see any of this becoming a reality now, as they were all trapped, waiting to be consumed.
At least it would not be painful.
Tsanja was a large woman, but her tummy was now beginning to show the evidence of her pregnancy.
Although Madeleine saw this as evidence of Penn's infidelity, she had enough empathy to realise that Tsanja probably felt much like herself. Under siege, their lives under threat, having a baby growing inside oneself was a promise against the future, the possibility of a new life, when so many had been taken away. If only Penn were not so fickle! Still, she could not contemplate forgiving him.
Tsanja still suffered badly from morning sickness, and Madeleine took a petty delight in watching her heaving and spitting into a bowl every morning, as she had been doing for more than three months.
The stoicism with which she approached her lonely life, however, did leave Madeleine feeling a little guilty.
Tsanja was not completely isolated. Poe made a number of visits, and always ensured that they spoke quietly, and in low light, so that Madeleine could see little and hear nothing of what was said. The mirror had been a family heirloom, and Poe obviously knew what Madeleine was doing. Poe even made to appear quite affectionate to Tsanja, and smiled at her, but Madeleine saw through this as a transparent ploy. It would not make her hate Tsanja any less.
Tsanja's seduction of Penn had been even more unforgivable than Penn's acquiescence.
The earlier discussions between Poe and Tsanja often ended in a heated argument, and Madeleine wished that she could hear what was spoken. Over a period of days, their disagreements came to some sort of a resolution, and Tsanja and Poe wept, and held each other.
Madeleine wished she knew what business was between them, and of how it was now resolved.
That evening, Madeleine watched as Tsanja made for the cave. It was a new moon, so no light illuminated the interior. All Madeleine could see in the mirror was shifting shadows, and darkness, and, soon, she heard moans, their nature hard to divine.
Tsanja obviously had some business with the demon.
Madeleine slept, fitfully, and was awake to watch the mirror as Tsanja made her way out of the cave just before daybreak, to make her way back to the church. It took Madeleine some time to realise what had changed, but, as she gazed in the mirror at Tsanja walking, she saw the sun rising over the horizon.
The horizon! How long had it been since she had seen that familiar vista of fields, stretching away from the village?
Madeleine allowed herself to feel some relief. Their period of imprisonment might be at an end. She could leave Gynt now. The world seemed to open up to her again, her plans to go to Solveig no longer seemed impossible. Her mother and Poe could look after her little one, and she could be a free woman again!
Whatever had been the demon's purpose for imprisoning the village, and taking so many people, perhaps it was now accomplished, and Lilith would no longer trouble them.
Madeleine burst out of her room, desperate to tell her mother, to tell the others.
Pamela, Poe and Mrs Beale were already bolted in the front room, as they had been every morning. Madeleine pummelled the door, and it was opened, almost reluctantly, by her mother.
Madeleine was unprepared for their mood. Pamela and Poe looked as if they had not slept, and were weary, and drawn. Mrs Beale had evidently been crying, but made an effort to dry her eyes, and tried to smile for Madeleine.
Mrs Beale arose from her chair, and enfolded Madeleine in her arms.
“Oh, Madeleine, I do not know what you must think of us. Gynt is free from the demon now, that is true, but all is not over yet. Go back to your mirror, Madeleine, and stay with Tsanja, please, keep an eye on my daughter. She has given herself an impossible task. Stay with her, Madeleine, and please, find some room in your heart to forgive her, it is not her fault alone. I believe she will soon atone for all of her sins, a thousand times over, if she does not pay with her life. Stay with her, Madeleine, stay with her as long as you can.”
Madeleine was brought back to earth rather suddenly. The healers had known about her mirror the whole time. They had known immediately as the demon had withdrawn from its possession of Gynt. Had she no secrets? Was her own family entangled with the Demon? Why was Tsanja so important all of a sudden?
Her plans for the future seemed more distant than ever, and the mood of that room had completely dissipated her brief sense of elation.
Madeleine returned to her own room, and confronted her mirror again.
“Tsanja Beale.”
---
Tsanja slept only for a short time.
This cold, bright, winter's morning did not begin quite like the others.
Her morning sickness did not appear, and she started immediately on her work around the Church.
Tsanja made the motions of blessing the altar, but, of course, her magic was not effective, and, despite the fact that she had not been sick, she looked like she was feeling particularly tired, useless and miserable this morning.
Tsanja's mood appeared to be as black as that of the healers, and she did not appear to find any joy in the release of the village. It was almost as if this new-found freedom was oppressive, unwanted, threatening even.
In the late afternoon Madeleine heard a carriage pull up outside the church, and the crunch of gravel as many feet approached. Tsanja's features darkened further. She had obviously expected the intrusion.
A tall, haughty women opened the door, and strode down the aisle, her ceremonial robes flowing behind her. She was not old, still in her early thirties, and had dark hair, fiercely tied back, and the pale skin of patricians. Madeleine did not recognise her, but could tell from her robes that she was one of the twelve Sisters on the Church Council in the city of Solveig.
She was followed by six creatures, silent, stealthy, clad in black. They were in continuous movement, as though they could never rest, as if each was searching for something.
They could have been women, Madeleine supposed, but they did not move like women.
Each wore a black cloak and had a black, close-fitting hood pulled over their head, and it covered their eyes. The hood looked like soft leather, and moved like velvet.
Although their eyes were covered, they were aware of their surroundings. The way their heads moved, it may have been scent as much as anything else which informed them.
The only thing visibly human about any of them was the small part of their face visible between their hoods and their covered necks. Their age was indeterminate, their skin was pale, almost white, and their lips an unnatural shade of vermilion.
The newcomer addressed Tsanja, very formally,
“My name is Hypatia. You may call me Mistress Hypatia. I am here from Solveig, and my orders come from the High Sisters themselves.”
She pulled out a sheet of parchment, but did not proffer it to Tsanja.
“State your name, Sister.”
Tsanja seemed a little flummoxed at Hypatia's overbearing presence. She had already taken a great dislike to this Sister Hypatia, but could not afford to show it, especially in light of her compromised position. She would have to remain polite for now, and show proper respect.
“Priestess Tsanja Beale, at your pleasure.” she said, with a little curtsey.
“Welcome to my village, Mistress Hypatia. I apologise for the sorry state in which you find it.”
“A pleasure to meet you, JaJa,” Hypatia stated without warmth.
“JaJa, I am glad to see that you have kept the Church looking appropriate. Appearances are so important, are they not? Still, they are obviously not everything. You appear to have misplaced all of your congregation. This problem of yours has only just been noted in Solveig, and is one I hope you can help me with.
“You also seem to have misplaced your virtue. That is a bigger problem, but not insurmountable.
“And, I am sad to say, we have discovered a few little secrets of yours.
“Your darling mother calls herself Mrs Beale, but, as you must know, she was never married to James Beale by the Church. You are a little bastard, JaJa, are you not? She is plain old Jennifer Haarlem, and you are just JaJa. Little bastards like you are not worthy to represent the majesty of the Church.”
Tsanja shrank inwardly, and attempted to change the subject.
“Please, Mistress Hypatia, let me take your coat, let me bring some food and drink for you and your party. I have not had the pleasure of being introduced to your companions … ?”
Hypatia looked at her black-garbed party with a mixture of disdain and amusement.
“JaJa, these creatures do not need any assistance, nor do they need food. They are quite capable of looking after themselves. They are Felthings, and have no need for names. I have six more outside.”
Hypatia reached over to one, and stroked its covered head. It leaned into her hand, and made a hissing sound. Its face swung in Tsanja's direction, and it raised one hand, and she saw wicked, curved claws emerge from one black glove.
“Soft, you see, like felt! It is a felt thing!”
Hypatia laughed at her own joke.
Tsanja tried to laugh, but failed.
No matter. Hypatia was not looking at her, and did not notice.
Madeleine watched with intense interest. These must be the creatures that the Church was using against Lilith.
Hypatia dropped her artificial levity, and her face hardened.
“But JaJa, those little indiscretions and problems of yours are really very minor matters.
“Actually, I would like you to tell me exactly why you took it upon yourself to block me from the sight of your village these last few months. You have laboured long and hard to hide it from me, what with all of your misdirections, and concocted vignettes of village life.
“And for what? I arrive here and Gynt is gone, all but consumed, just like Toridй. It seems that you have been hiding the Lilith Spawn from us.
“Why have you done this terrible thing?
“We might have been able to help if we had known what was happening. You are a traitor, JaJa, a traitor to your church, and your own congregation.”
Tsanja winced, as if from a blow, but was surprised when Hypatia's levity returned, with a huge grin on her face.
“JaJa, do you know how we make a Felthing?”
Tsanja felt compelled to shake her head, although Madeleine could see that it was not necessary, as Hypatia was not paying her any attention.
“You just need Felthings, JaJa, just other Felthings. They make themselves. It is so very convenient. A woman, a bedroom, and five Felthings … Voilа … six Felthings, and no woman! The process is very amusing, I think you will agree.
“Not just any woman, JaJa, only very, very bad ones.
“Only women that have given over their allegiance to the demon.
“Show me to my room now, JaJa, and bring me some tea and victuals. We will talk of the purpose for my visit tonight, when I have settled in, and I will attend you at dinner. Have it ready by six hours of the clock, Tsanja, we have much to do. And, please, now is not the time for afternoon walks. We are very well guarded here.”
Tsanja brought Hypatia into the best room of her house, and proceeded to make it up.
“No need for that. Just leave the bedclothes, and remove yourself.”
Two Felthings had already brought Hypatia's luggage in to the room, and commenced unpacking her wardrobe and making her bed. Hypatia began setting up her scrying bowl. Madeleine doubted she would learn anything with it in this place. Tsanja said nothing, and, curtseying, left them in peace.
What was a Felthing, Madeleine wondered? They acted like slaves.
As Tsanja took her leave, she saw through the windows that six Felthings were arrayed around her house. They were sniffing the air, as if waiting for her to emerge, ready to pounce. Tsanja had dinner to prepare, so she pulled the kitchen curtains, and concentrated on peeling vegetables.
Madeleine joined Poe as Tsanja cooked, and did not check on her again before dinner at six o'clock.
“This dish is very tasty, JaJa, a little spicy for my tastes. You would do better to find some beef or salmon for me, vegetables do not suit me at all.”
“Yes, Mistress,” Tsanja replied, furious, but with downcast eyes. How could she find meat or fish in this place?
“Now, Tsanja, how many healers are there in Gynt?”
“Just the one, Mrs Beale, she lives in the house on the rise near the big oak tree, at the other side of the village.”
“Fascinating. I think you mean Jennifer Haarlem. Do you not think that your mother is a little presumptuous to use the name of James Beale?”
Hypatia did not wait for an answer. It was a statement, not a question, and she refused to use the honorific for a woman who had obviously lived in sin with an unmarried man.
“So who lives with this Jennifer?”
“Just some family, Mistress. Some relatives from Toridй, who were visiting before all of the troubles there.”
Hypatia snorted.
“You're a fool, Tsanja. The demon is here in Gynt, and we must root it out before it extends its poisonous influence. The danger we face is more important than your precious healers, and you continue to defy me. They are tools of the demon. You may think them harmless, JaJa, but they are the true Lilith spawn. They must not be allowed to continue their work. They are fraudsters, JaJa. Their petty magics give comfort, but true healing can only come using the Church's methods. Surgery is the new magic, JaJa, cutting out the bad, leaving only the good.
“Pamela, Poe, Jennifer. They are tools of the demon, and we must do a little surgery ourselves.
“We are not unkind, Tsanja. They will feel no pain. The Church will make good use of them, JaJa, just as we will make good use of you.
“JaJa, how could you have done this to yourself? How could you have thrown away your virtue, your living, our trust, just for a moment of pleasure, and with a boy at that! Why have you thrown your lot in with your family, who are enemies of the Church?
“You will not be allowed to stay in this house after today. You have little to offer us, or your flock, in your present state. You have nothing to recommend you but your hands, JaJa.
“I will visit your beloved healers in the morning. You do not need to pay them a visit before then. If you wanted to take a walk this evening, I would advise against it. If you have forgotten my advice, then the Felthings will remind you. They are not as amiable as am I, and can sometimes get a little rough.
“You may now clear up the dinner things. Then, I think we can help you with your little problem.”
Naked fear now showed on Tsanja's face as she brought the plates and glasses into the kitchen. She broke a plate on the kitchen floor, and nobody offered to help. Tears began to drip from her nose into the washing up water.
Tsanja continued to tidy, attempting to delay the inevitable, aware of Hypatia and those creatures in the next room. Eventually, two Felthings appeared either side of her, and she was silently escorted to her bedroom.
Hypatia brought several lanterns with her, and set them up around Tsanja's bed.
“This kind of work requires good light. On to your bed, Ja.”
Hypatia brought out a black hood, a Felthing hood, and laid it on the bed.
“Am I to be turned into one of those?” Tsanja asked, pointing at a Felthing, her voice wavering.
Hypatia giggled.
“Oh, no, JaJa. You are a good person. You are on the side of the angels. You are a good Church woman. You are no longer fit to be a priestess, of course, but will be allowed to work in the kitchens at the Great Abbey.”
Tsanja winced. She had seen the men and women who worked there, and thought them all to be simple, damaged, or crippled, and none of them spoke. She had thought at the time that it was charitable of the Church to employ such people.
Now she was to become one of them.
Hypatia continued her monologue.
“No, these are for tomorrow.”
Hypatia dropped two more hoods on the bed, and smiled.
“Jennifer, Pamela, Poe.
“Yes, I think three will be sufficient. But your little friends, Dee and Madeleine, they also have a little problem. The Church does not look kindly upon little bastards born out of wedlock. All problems have solutions, JaJa, nothing is unfixable. They only need a little adjustment.”
Madeleine started. How did this woman know so much? What did she mean by “a little adjustment?”
“JaJa, you are in a highly privileged position. Felthings are rather limited in their uses, you know. When the demon has been rooted out of our land, they will only starve, and pine. You are part of a little experiment, JaJa. If it is successful, the Felthings might turn out to be rather useful for helping foolish little girls with their silly little problems, and, let me tell you, there are rather a large number of foolish little girls in Solveig that will need our help.”
She pointed at the Felthing closest to Tsanja.
“Show her.”
The Felthing began to open its cloak.
It became clear that it had been a woman. Her breasts were snowy white, but sunken. The flesh puckered in where the nipples should have been, the aureoles bleached white.
Down below, her torso had been hollowed out. There was no belly button, and the stomach was sunken in, a mass of scar tissue. The Felthing opened the robe further, and Tsanja saw what was between its legs. Where the genitalia and anus should have been, only a single, white, puckered hole remained, and it gaped horribly as the Felthing moved. As its cloak dropped to the floor, its legs were lily white.
Tsanja gazed at the Felthing, and knew what it reminded her of. Below the neck, it was just white, cold, waxy flesh, splotched with blue bruises, no sign of any veins.
Tsanja had laid out such things for burial.
Below the neck, the Felthing was a corpse.
“They are magical, JaJa. They don't eat food any more. They eat only demon flesh, and purify it, send it back to the Trinity. The demon hates them. But I know, JaJa, how sweetly they turn women into their own kind. I can only guess at the pleasure, JaJa, but the fraction I enjoy is more than enough for me.”
The creature turned its face towards Tsanja, and it licked its red lips. It opened its mouth, and its tongue began to emerge. No wonder the Felthings did not speak. There were no teeth in its mouth, and its saliva was thick, great strands of it across its lips, generously coating the tongue. This was no human tongue. It was thick, and ridged, and it moved in peristaltic contortions. The end of the tongue opened, like a maggot, sucking at the air.
“Felthings have lost one organ of pleasure, JaJa, only to gain another, one that is better suited to their purpose. They love it when they fulfil their purpose, JaJa, and they love to share.”
“They share their feelings, you see. They share their feelings amongst themselves, they share their feelings with me. They will share your feelings, too, Ja, and it will be delicious, it will be all that you deserve. You only need a little adjustment, but the night is cold. Let us make a little party of it. They are so generous, I love directing their play, they make me feel so very good.
Addressing the Felthings, she instructed them, “Now, my girls, gently, remove your robes, help JaJa with her little problem. Play with her first, make her feel nice. Don't leave her feeling disappointed.”
Hypatia settled herself in a chair as the Felthings began to strip. All came off, even their gloves, all except the black hood over their head and eyes.
Now was her only chance. While the Felthings were occupied, Tsanja darted forward, and tried to duck between them, reaching for the door.
It was hopeless. She did not even see them move. They were in front of the door before she even reached it, a wall of white flesh. She was held, gently but firmly, and led back to the bed. Their claws were sheathed, their dead skin was soft and cold, yet she could hardly struggle as they laid her out.
She could do nothing as they removed her clothes, ever so carefully, and, despite her efforts to resist, nothing was torn.
One Felthing took each leg, and one each arm. Tsanja glanced across at Hypatia; she had hitched her robes to the side, and her legs over the arms of her chair. Her virgin pussy was splayed out, obscenely. It glistened with her lubrication, and she was circling her fingers in that sweet, slippery pleasure just over her nub.
The Felthings consolidated their position, one for each of Tsanja's limbs, holding her firmly with their legs, their masked faces close to her breasts, her hips. Their cold, waxy flesh chilled her own. Although there was no muscle tone visible, they had unearthly strength.
She was spread, and a Felthing moved up between her legs. Another crouched in front of Hypatia, and its arms circled her thighs. Hypatia lifted herself to give it access, in her virginity, to the only hole she allowed herself. The tongue began to slide in, slowly, and she sighed, never ceasing her manipulation with her fingers.
“Tsanja, let them pleasure you. I have been mean to you, I know it, but take some time for yourself, enjoy, share your pleasure with me.”
For a time, the Felthings just held Tsanja, and pressed their cold flesh against her. Madeleine imagined that they were warming themselves, like lizards, before a burst of motion.
The Felthing between Tsanja's legs was gentle. It kissed her first, and teased her black rose with gentle licks. The other Felthing's tongues extended, and soon her nipples and thighs were slick with their moisture. She visibly relaxed. They were dangerous, it was true, but now seemed dedicated and uncomplicated, and their red lips and their questing tongues were kind.
Madeleine could see Tsanja's eyes closing in pleasure; did she feel the pleasure of the Felthings as her own? The stretch of that tongue extending, the prickly heat as it let down its thick lubrication?
The Felthing between her legs lifted her, and its tongue wormed its way into her back passage.
The cold, dead flesh of the Felthings had acquired some colour, and they squirmed against Tsanja's own, as if the contact of real, human flesh with their own was invigorating, delicious.
Tsanja and Hypatia turned to each other, and Madeleine saw the pleasure that lay there for both of them. Hypatia held her gaze, and deliberately slowed down her assault on herself. As Hypatia paused, and grunted in her first orgasm, Madeleine saw Tsanja blink in referred pleasure.
Tsanja laid her head back then, closed her eyes, and became limp as she let herself go. She did not seem to notice as her limbs were released, and responded eagerly when a tongue sought out her mouth. She kissed those red lips with passion, even as that obscene tongue disappeared deep into her throat.
For a long, magical, time, Tsanja, Hypatia and the Felthings seemed bonded to each other, lost in mindless thrustings and licking, all feeling the same pleasure.
When the Felthing removed its tongue from her anus, Tsanja felt a sense of loss, but the tongue quickly entered her again, this time her vagina.
“Nooo...” she moaned, but it did feel good.
Hypatia gazed at her intently. Tsanja was feeling directly what Hypatia, the virginal priestess, could only borrow, and they all concentrated on Tsanja's pleasure, sharing it, pushing it, until she reached her completion, gasping, her back arching, lying limp on the bed, covered in white flesh.
“Jaja, that was nice. The Felthings are so kind, and they do like to play.
“We're not quite done yet.
“Fix her little problem now,” Hypatia said.
Her face twisted horribly in gleeful anticipation. Hypatia evidently knew what was coming, and Madeleine could see the sick fascination on her face.
Tsanja struggled, but was held down again, and the Felthing between her legs pushed back into her with some determination. It soon became clear that Tsanja was in pain, and the pain was growing. She shook her head from side to side, and began to scream as if she were being split in two.
Madeleine held herself between the legs, tears running down her face, imagining what was happening to Tsanja.
Hypatia was in ecstasy, moaning and screaming in her pleasure, rubbing herself with vigour as Tsanja screamed in pain. Was the process of making a Felthing like this, Madeleine wondered in disgust? The painless, sweet process that Hypatia had described?
Tsanja finally had some respite as the Felthing slowly withdrew from between her legs.
As it lifted its head up, it brought up a bloody sac with its hands. It was a mass of flesh, bloody, dead and immobile. There was blood as the Felthing pulled at the membranes, and a misshapen body emerged. It could have been a baby, but there were no features, no fingers, no toes. It was shaped like a baby, but had no form, it was like a rag doll made of blood and flesh.
Hypatia looked mystified.
“JaJa, what is this thing? What kind of a baby is this? This could never have been alive!”
Tsanja lay back and closed her eyes, exhausted.
Hypatia smiled then, in a calculated simulation of kindness. “You poor, barren girl. This thing forming in your belly is not human. Despite your congress with that silly little boy, Pendragon Fillis, all you have ended up with is this ugly lump of flesh. Well, that is a relief.
“I suppose that we have saved your life.
“So many unhappy memories, JaJa. I am not unkind. Tomorrow will be a busy day. I'll leave you a friend here to keep you company. He will give you a little peace.”
Madeleine was devastated.
She supposed that Hypatia would leave a Felthing to guard over Tsanja.
Not even Tsanja deserved treatment like that.
It was clear that Hypatia would be paying them all a visit the next morning, with the Felthings, and those horrible hoods.
Madeleine had also gathered what was planned for Dee, and herself, and their unborn babies.
As Madeleine finished her tale, Poe reached up, and removed her own choker charm.
“I'm sorry you had to see that, Madeleine, but I hope you realise now that Church simply cannot be trusted.
“Lilith, she is preferable to that. Far, far, preferable.
“Pamela, Jennifer, it would be better if you removed your protections. You do not need them now.”
They looked uncertain, but Tsanja's harrowing experience, and Hypatia's horrendous plans, had shaken them badly. They removed the choker charms without further discussion.
Pamela and Mrs Beale looked pained as their memories were returned to them. They had grown fond of Lilith, who helped them heal the sick, but only now did they realise the enormity of her actions in Gynt. All the memories of their lost friends were returning.
However, soon both closed their eyes, and smiled, and they looked at Poe with new understanding.
Pamela spoke for them both,
“Poe, you were right. We understand now. It is all for the best.”
Time was pressing, they could not dwell on the past.
“Tsanja will be in need of healing,”
said Mrs Beale, and asked Poe,
“How can we get to her?”
Poe replied,
“It may be some time, we don't know yet how we are to tackle the accursed Felthings. The poor creatures were once healers, like ourselves, but have had everything ripped out of them. Their souls are enslaved by their black hoods, their bodies are all but dead. It is only by eating Lilith's flesh that they have power, but they pervert her, and waste her virtue for the Church's vile deeds.”
Madeleine was surprised to hear Poe speaking of the demon so reverentially. What “virtue” did Poe see in Lilith? Poe had to be challenged.
“Poe, what did you talk to Tsanja about? Why did she visit the demon? Why are you not consumed by her?”
Poe replied, carefully,
“Madeleine, I have not used my choker charm for some time now.”
She produced it, and gazed into the stone's depths, and showed it in the light. Madeleine and Dee could see that the faint glow was not present.
“You see, this one is quite empty.
“I can hear Lilith clearly, she has plans for all of us. You may think that Gynt has suffered badly from her, but, really, she has protected us from worse things. The Felthings, they have hurt us healers badly, and will enslave the earth if allowed to continue. You saw how perverted Hypatia has become, she has become addicted to the evil pleasure they provide, to their horrible appetites. The Felthings give the Church power over its subjects, but they cannot be controlled. They are become evil, monstrous things. Lilith tried to isolate Toridй, to marshal her strength, but the Felthings were too strong. They broke down her barriers, and have gorged on her flesh.”
“She has arisen in Gynt so that she can replenish herself, and replenish her influence on this Earth..
“It is not so bad, children. Being taken by Lilith is no misfortune. She will treat us all kindly when our time comes.
“Lilith told me when the Church sent out Hypatia and twelve Felthings from Solveig.
“The Church cannot allow Tsanja to give birth. Her child is very special to Lilith. That goes for you two as well, Madeleine, Dee. Lilith has chosen carefully, and her beloved children will help her, they will love her.
“I warned Tsanja, and told her of the Church's plans, but, at first, she could not bring herself to parley with Lilith. I am grateful that she saw sense at last, and gave up her own baby to Lilith's care.
“So must we. There is nowhere to hide in Gynt, the Felthings will smell us out, wherever we go. We must seek safety with her, and keep an eye on Tsanja, and hope that the Gods will provide.
Poe drew back the curtains. In the light shining from the window, they could see a Felthing standing at the end of the front path. It was motionless, implacable.
“Penn, you must put on your protections. You are not yet safe where we are going.”
Penn took up his charm again, and closed it around his neck.
Madeleine left the room without looking at him, so Dee took his hand, and led him into Mrs Beale's room.
A large chest stood against one wall. Penn supposed that it could be used as a table for massage or examinations. A small set of steps were set against it, to make it easy to climb up to the lip.
Pamela and Mrs Beale lifted its lid, and stood aside.
Dee recognised it. She had seen it whilst she was being healed. It was also the chest that Mr and Mrs Beale had spent so much time arguing about, and that he had entered at the end of his long, wasting illness.
Mrs Beale said,
“Madeleine, Dee, I think you should go first. Don't worry, Lilith will not harm you, you are Lilith's fondest hope. I will stay behind as long as I can, up here, to see if there is anything I can do for poor Tsanja.”
They looked into the chest, and frowned with worry. Poe pushed in front of them, and climbed the little set of steps. She turned, and smiled, looking out over them all. There were tears in her eyes.
“I hate long goodbyes. I believe that this is the last you will see of me, dears, please take care. Pamela, my love, you have been a blessing to me, and I could not have wished for a kinder, more beautiful child. Jennifer, I know it has been a trial, and you have lost so much, but keep faith dear heart, I know it will be worth it in the end. Children, please, I know it has been hard, but just remember the love you shared. Don't give it up, you are so beautiful, I hope you know how much you are loved.
“Madeleine, you know how to love, I know, but you must also learn how to forgive.
“Dee, you will find your place in the world, do not despair. You are unique, dear heart, and have so much to give.
“Penn, your course is set in stone, but your fate is to be a sweet one.
“Just let it be, Penn, let it be.”
Poe turned, and stepped carefully into the chest.
She was gone.
Penn looked inside, but he could see nothing. It was obviously demon's work.
In turn, Madeleine and Dee gingerly made up the steps. Madeleine was carrying her mirror. They stepped into the chest, holding the rim.
Madeleine made a little “Ohhh...” sound as she stepped in, as if the chest was a bath of water at a perfect, comfortable temperature.
They, too, were gone.
Penn was next. Pamela and Mrs Beale stood on either side of him, as he could not see in. They held his arms as he stepped inside, and he was surprised to feel a warm, glowing resistance as he let himself go.
He expected to feel the bottom of the chest, but there was nothing. As he felt himself sinking, he tried to grip the side, and held on with a couple of fingers.
“You'll be fine, Penn,” Pamela laughed. She gave his fingers a short, sharp smack, and he let go.
He flailed around, but could get no purchase on the smooth wooden sides of the chest. As the shadows arose around his head, he realised that he must be sinking into the demon's body. He felt the warmth and pleasure surrounding him, as he had felt it with Pamela, and in the cave when he had nearly been taken. This time, however, he was surrounded completely, and he held his breath.
He eventually emerged into some cool air, but could see nothing. He had never seen blackness as dark as this!
Dee gently grabbed his upper arm, then moved down to hold his hand.
“You're all right, Penn. We're safe now.”
Madeleine held his other hand with her own, and she gave it a gentle squeeze. This was the first time they had touched for days now, and her touch felt magical. He wanted to reach around her and hold her, but he wasn't sure how she would react. He settled for squeezing her hand in return, and Madeleine wrapped her hand around two of his fingers, and held him tight.
Penn breathed a sigh of relief.
A rustling beside him announced the appearance of Pamela, who spoke immediately.
“We'll have to get moving. I hope we can reach Lilith's heart soon. Poor old Tsanja, I fear her troubles are not over yet.”
They walked for about half an hour, and there were many twists and turns, steep climbs and slippery slopes. Penn could see nothing, and could only sense through his feet. At times, the floor seemed like dirt, and other times, like stone, and, occasionally, like walking on fluffy pillows.
Finally, they arrived in a large clear area, and sat down.
Madeleine brought out the mirror, and they gathered around it.
Tsanja was visible in the mirror, insensate, lying on her bed, her sheets bloodied. A black hood covered her head, like a Felthing's. It was not the same, though. This hood was not sewn, and it was clear that Tsanja's skin was still pink, and they all watched her her chest rise and fall fell with the gentle breaths of sleep.
Nothing could be done for her at the moment. It would be too dangerous to return to the surface with those things up there.
“Where are we?” Penn asked, and Dee produced a lamp, and lit it.
The light of the lamp showed nothing of the space they were in. However, Penn could now see everyone's faces, and could see Madeleine peering into the darkness.
“What can you see, Madeleine?”.
“Penn, I believe we are in Lilith's heart. She has hollowed out this cave for her own use. It's huge, Penn. She must have been down here for years.”
Penn looked at his companions: Pamela, Madeleine, Dee, himself.
Mrs Beale was still up top, awaiting news about her daughter.
A mood of sadness seemed to have descended on the others.
“Weren't there five of us supposed to be down here?” asked Penn.
“Who's missing?”
The Felthings still surrounded her, and Tsanja felt bloodied, defiled, her insides damaged.
Hypatia lifted a little bag up, and put it up on the bed. Opening it, she pulled out a small creature. It was furry, and looked soft, and, as she stroked it, it tried to wrap itself around her finger.
It was just a night-wing.
These creatures were only seen at night, and they stayed well away from people. The legends had it that they were older than time itself, and many people were superstitious about them. Both seemed content to avoid each other.
Tsanja had never seen one up close.
It was like a bat, sharing with it the same leathery hide, and soft fur, and beady little eyes, but it had no bones, and little body.
Something green glimmered from its centre.
Hypatia stroked it, and it unfurled itself.
Two eyes observed her, and Tsanja saw that its skin had been pierced with several gold rings, with green stones set into them. Each ring was small, like a piece of jewellery for a child's finger, but Tsanja could see that with that weight, it would not be able to fly.
The arrangement looked somehow familiar.
“Tsanja, tonight has been hard for you, I know, but I think you know that it has been necessary for the good of the Land.
“My little friend here will ease your pain.
“He's your pet now, you will keep him, and look after him, and he will give comfort to you when you come to work with me in the Grand Abbey.
Tsanja recalled now where she had seen those gold rings and those green stones.
Each servant in the Grand Abbey wore an apron, like a uniform, of black leather, gold rings, and green stones, and she knew that she would never be rid of this night-wing, this pet. It would never leave her, and she would wear it all of her days.
Hypatia smiled, and Tsanja recoiled.
Anything which Hypatia liked, Tsanja had realised, she would find revolting. What fresh new horror would Hypatia show her now?
“As you know, Hypatia, we created the Felthings to rid the land of the Lilith spawn, and we are fortunate indeed that they will also help us with a few other matters. Your little friend here will grow strong with you, and, when you shuffle off this mortal coil, he shall make a warm, comfy hood for someone who deserves it far more than you or I. Yes, Tsanja, these little creatures make very fine Felthing hoods. You are not long for the world, Tsanja, as he does get hungry, and he will grow strong on you, but you will not mind so much when you finally succumb to your new darling.
“Tsanja, I have seen them feeding. It is sweet, watching them feed, seeing the look of bliss on the faces of those who provide for them. You could even say that you were made for each other, Tsanja, that there is no higher calling for either of you.
The Felthings came forward then, and stood closer.
Hypatia placed the thing on the bed, and it reared up, to sniff the air, its beady eyes seeing Tsanja for the first time.
A kind of mouth opened then, a great slit in its skin, and Tsanja saw a moist, glistening redness, with fine tendrils beginning to emerge. Its maw was as wide as its body, like a huge anemone, its tentacles waving in the air, rather than in the water.
Tsanja recoiled in horror, and the Felthings gently held her down.
The creature shuffled towards her, struggling against those heavy, clinking rings, and, its skin undulating, it moved towards her head.
“Tsanja, relax. You will come to accept this over time, even to welcome it. Just let him get to know you. He is faithful, Tsanja, faithful unto death.”
The Felthings laid their gloved hands on her, and held her still.
The night-wing covered her face, and her head, opening itself up like a leather bag, and those tendrils began to enter her, through her nose, through her mouth, through her ears. It was not painful. On the contrary, the tendrils were moist, and warm, and Tsanja began to relax. Perhaps they drugged her, or exerted some strange kind of influence. The creature settled over her face, leaving her mouth clear, and it warmed her. The Felthings released her. Again, she could not move.
Tsanja did not know how the creature fed. Perhaps it would not be so bad. Lying here was almost pleasant, and she could no longer see Hypatia.
“Think of the time we met, Tsanja. It was not the best of times for you, my dear, but that shall soon be all in the past, gone the way of all flesh.”
Tsanja could not help thinking about the first moment she had met Hypatia, and she felt a burst of hatred as she realised how awful the land had become under Hypatia's direction. Her experiments with the Felthings were horrible enough, but to do that to the Healers was a monstrosity. Tsanja had no doubt that Lilith was only extant in the world because of Hypatia's meddling, and she hated Hypatia most of all for what she intended to do to Tsanja's loved ones, the only friends she had left in the world.
Poe had been correct.
Poe had been correct in everything.
Until Tsanja had seen the horror of the Felthing's flesh, she had hoped that all Poe had told her was exaggeration.
The reality was a hundred times worse.
Perhaps she was fortunate. Her own family would fare even worse. Her stomach clenched at the thought of her loved ones being turned into Felthings, her own mother being raped and hollowed out. Tsanja did not know if Madeleine and Dee would have time to save their own little ones.
In any case, they would be forced to endure the same agonising trials as herself.
And Penn, beautiful Penn. He had always thought himself free, free as a bird, and perhaps now he would have to pay for his carefree ways. But at what a price!
As with all boys, he never thought to ask why there were no men in the village. Those particular sorceries had kept the Sisters of the Church in power for generations, with no males to challenge their dominion.
Tsanja guessed that he would be a good match for one of the Sisters, retiring at forty, or a daughter of a minor woman of wealth. He would be wedded, and never see sunlight again. Oh, he would have bedroom pleasures enough, but Tsanja thought with distaste on the shackles to be placed upon his fine mind, as she had crippled many a young man for marriages in Gynt. It was distasteful, but effective.
The village had been a restful place without the incessant fighting, shouting and jealousy from the legendary menfolk of old.
Her mind seemed to crystallise then, and did not move forward, or backwards, her image of Hypatia and today's events were stuck. She felt no pain now, which was some relief, just those memories and emotions, held as if pinned to her mind.
Tsanja felt the night-wing's tendrils move then, and they twitched, and there was a tiny sting. It was as if pure pleasure was trickling into her veins. It became so strong, her thoughts were held, static, but her body's pleasure was rising, heading towards some catastrophic denouement. It was terrifying, but Tsanja knew that ecstasy was close.
She spread her legs, wide, to help it along, and opened herself up to it.
She had no choice.
A white, bright, climax filled her body, and she arched her back. Somehow, she lost her train of thought, and her mind emptied of everything save for that brilliant, terrifying white pleasure which burned through her body.
It eased, gently, and slowly let her down.
Tsanja heard the voice of an irritating, imperious woman.
“Think back further, yes, the day before we met. I saw you in my bowl, you were sick, I think, I think I saw you being sick. That wasn't very nice, was it, Tsanja?”
Tsanja remembered it, being sick into a bowl, she rather felt as if there had been eyes staring at the back of her neck.
It was so comfortable here in her bed with her night-wing, like a warm, heavy, blanket wrapped around her head, and she could barely feel those moist tendrils which held her, which filled her. Her whole body was warm and fuzzy now, and she let all her muscles relax, and her head sank deeper into her pillow.
She found herself hoping that the pleasurable sensation would return, but her thoughts first retraced all the events of that morning, after being sick, all of the useless preparations for a church congregation who would never return.
Again, her mind seemed to crystallise, to stick, that morning held in her brain. Then she felt that twitch, that burst of pleasure again, so strong, and she clenched her teeth, letting it carry her away, arching her back. Again, with the pleasure, she lost her train of thought. As the pleasure dwindled, she could no longer remember of what she had been thinking.
Despite the pleasure of her floating, a feeling of horror began to creep up on her. She thought of the events of this evening, of yesterday morning, and realised that there were gaps. Her memory was usually solid, but she could not even remember the immediate past.
Oh, no, oh, Gods, no! This creature was stealing her memories!
She flailed against her mind, tried to think upon nothing, but her memories flowed, her thoughts ran on, and were locked tight.
Tsanja heard the voice of an irritating, imperious woman.
“Poor old JaJa. You know what you are dealing with now, don't you my dear? Have no fear, you will soon forget what your dear little pet is doing to you, and you will become the best of friends. He has you now, and he can steer you into your past, all by himself. I do like to see your pleasure, dear, I am not a bad person. I am only sad that you will not remember me with the fondness that I deserve.”
Tsanja could not control her mind as her thoughts were steered back to yesterday's meeting with Poe, and her decision to give up her baby to Lilith, to save it.
Removing the choker charm had been hard. Remembering all of her students disappearing, one by one, had been harder. The awful, awful time searching for John Cameron in the cave had returned in vividness, and, although she had no recollection of Lilith's appearance, she remembered the way that his memory had dribbled away from her as he was taken.
She remembered the influence of the cave, and the moment when she had finally decided to seduce Penn, to take him for herself.
She had always loved Penn as a student, for his mind, for his enthusiasm, but she had never imagined that she would fall for him in that way, and want to have his baby. The clarity of purpose she had felt in the cave as she had taken him rang true to her still. She regretted nothing. Still, she had been feeling inadequate for months now, and she doubted if she would ever know if her seduction of Penn was due to the Demon's influence, or or own, internal, demons.
It had been a near thing with her baby. If she had not given it to Lilith, it would certainly be dead by now. Tsanja hoped that it was alive, but how would she ever find out? She ached for her baby, her poor, lost baby, but could see no way in the future that she could be re-united with her. She would just have to have faith, but, she though wryly, faith in what?
Unless she found some way out of this horror, she would become a cripple, a simpleton, maybe a child. The night-wing which covered her would hold her in the daytime, and keep her warm, and then at night, it would cover her, and steal her memories, and she would descend into a life of empty servitude, with no memories to sustain her, only that blinding, consuming pleasure to look forward to every night.
Perhaps when death came, it was welcomed with open arms.
Tsanja realised then that all of the remaining memories of the last three days were stuck fast, were held in her mind, all of her imaginings and analysis, all of her plans, everything.
It was preparing to take three whole days of her life.
How long would it be before it had taken all of her mind, consumed her every memory? How long before she had regressed to a child, not knowing how she had ended up in a woman's body?
It was slower this time, and what consciousness she was allowed could only look on in dismay as those tendrils moved, deeper, deeper, and her pleasure was increased. Oh, it was so much stronger this time. She pushed her fingers into herself, to feel the touch of something real as much as to give her pleasure something to focus on, and this time she could almost see as the night-wing suckled on her mind, and feel as her memories disappeared. As her pleasure peaked, she pushed into herself, hard, thrust her fingers in, and gave up her memories to it, pushed them out of herself into its greedy maw, just to increase the pleasure she was feeling.
This feeding must have taken an hour, coming in wave upon wave of paralysing pleasure. The night-wing finally released her, and, exhausted, she no longer had any reason to fear it. Tsanja was alone now. She remembered nothing of its hunger, it only left a vague memory of perverted pleasures shared, and she stroked it gently, loving her new pet, and they both drifted into a dreamless sleep.
At first, she thought it was a normal day, and she was ready to steel herself, to go to the Church, to perform her useless duties, to find out more about Lilith.
Perhaps Poe would come to visit.
Tsanja was not sure about Poe, about whether to trust her or not. Her stories of the Felthings were outlandish, but Tsanja knew that terrible things were abroad in the land.
Her new pet, the night-wing, was wrapped around her midriff. It was large, like an apron, and warmed her. She stroked its soft fur, and it moved, pleasing her with small undulations, and vibrated with a sort of purr.
As full awareness returned, a dull, painful ache came with it. She remembered all of the students she had lost, and all of her abortive attempts to find them before her memories of them had been hidden.
Reaching up to her neck, she realised that her choker charm was gone.
When had that happened?
Her bed, too, was a mess, and the sheets she was sleeping in were spotted with blood.
How had that happened? She did not feel pain, just the sadness of her returned memories.
Had someone been injured here?
Oh, no.
She felt her stomach.
The bump was gone.
Her baby was gone.
Oh, dear gods, no … What had become of her baby?
There was movement at her foot of the bed, and a strange creature arose. It had a black hood, rather like the night-wing she had around herself, but this hood was not alive. It had been sewn, and fitted tightly around the creature's head and eyes. All Tsanja could see of it that looked alive was the lower part of its face, its red lips.
Tsanja contemplated it with a sense of horror. It could be a Felthing, Tsanja supposed, but what was it doing here?
It hissed slightly, and showed her its claws.
She was being guarded, but why?
Tsanja knew that she would need to find some protection again. She looked around her bed, slowly, trying not to arouse the suspicions of the Felthing.
She found a black leather bag under the little table next to her bed. It was one of Poe's.
Why had she left it here?
Tsanja looked inside, and saw that it contained dozens of choker charms.
None of them looked like hers.
She picked a nice looking one, probably one of Madeleine's, and fastened it around her neck.
The effects were mixed.
She felt some relief as the memory of her lost students, and, with it, the evidence of her outright failure, faded away.
The night-wing released her midriff, and slid away from her body, and regarded her. It looked like it wanted to return, but seemed to be wary of the choker charm. It just curled up on the bed, hoping that Tsanja would return eventually.
Tsanja soon realised where all of the blood had come from. She was bleeding, and she saw blood on the night-wing's muzzle. Real pain returned to her then, and Tsanja knew then that she was hurt, that she had been raped, or injured.
The small pleasure of waking to a sunny morning had become something else, and Tsanja was beginning to the feel stark terror of the unknown.
The tiny maw of the night-wing had not caused this.
She must have been unconscious for a very long time, or her mind was playing tricks on her. Sometimes shock could cause amnesia, she knew that. Had she been raped? Had the rape unbalanced her mind? Would her memory of last night's events ever return?
Tears prickled her eyes, and Tsanja wept, wept for her helplessness, wept with the pain of her injuries. Most of all, she wept because she felt alone.
She doubted that anyone loved her now, but it was worth a try.
“Penn, Penn, Penn, can you hear me?”
She was so relieved when she heard his voice thrice repeating her name.
“Tsanja, we are safe now. Pamela says that if you can come to the cave near the old oak tree, then you can be safe too. Your mother is waiting for you at her house, and you can come here through the wooden chest. It is dangerous for her now, she might not stay. Try not to be followed.
So, Penn was with Lilith, too. Was she the last free soul left? So much for protecting the village!
She could not think of any way in which she could have been any more ineffectual than she was.
As they continued to talk, it soon became apparent that much of what Penn said to her made little sense. She convinced him to slow down, and he began to help her reconstruct her memories of the last few days of her life.
Penn explained to her everything which they had seen in the mirror, and although she felt strangely relieved to rediscover all of the horrible things that Hypatia had done to her, Tsanja could not help feeling annoyed that so many people had been spying on her solitary existence.
It was strange listening to Penn tell of what had happened last night. For months Tsanja had been the bearer of news to Penn, and it was unusual to be on the receiving end for a change. Tsanja had no memory whatsoever of the events that Penn told her had occurred, but she knew that Penn told the truth.
The Felthings had stripped out a puppet from her flesh, something dead and gruesome, but they were looking for a baby.
Why? She could not remember being pregnant. Had she been carrying a baby?
“Tsanja, I know it will be hard for you, but Pamela wants you to help us. Can you find out all you can about the Felthings? If we don't do something, the Church will use them to enslave the world, and the lives of the Healers will be forfeit. Please, we must do all we can for them.”
By now, Tsanja had lost any sense of loyalty to her Church. The only thing left to her was her love for those souls in Lilith's care. She would do what she could for them, and for the poor healers. She simply did not know what to think about Lilith, but she could not solve all of the world's problems.
One problem at a time would be more than enough.
She could think of only one way to learn about the hated Felthings, but it made her stomach turn. Aside from the horror of what they had tried to do to her, she blanched at the thought of what they had planned to do to her family, and the sick pleasure that Hypatia took in their feasting. She had heard from Penn about the horror of their nakedness, but had no wish to rediscover it in the flesh, so to speak.
Oh well, nothing ventured, nothing gained.
Tsanja arose from her bed, slowly. She still felt wounded, and still she bled. The Felthing faced her warily, and licked its red lips. Tsanja shuffled towards it. It didn't react. She was no threat, and had no chance of escape.
She reached her hand up to the Felthing's head to feel the hood. The Felthing bent its head towards her, like a cat, wanting to be stroked. The hood was stuck fast. It had become part of the Felthing, a shackle around its mind. She put one hand inside its robe, and felt one poor, damaged breast. The Felthing's face looked quite young, as if she had been a woman in her twenties, but the breast tissue was saggy, the skin slack, no muscle underneath to support it.
The Felthing hissed, softly, and moved to increase its contact with Tsanja's hand. Tsanja obliged, and released the sheet she was holding around herself. She wrapped her arms underneath the Felthing's cloak, and held herself against its dead flesh.
The Felthing bent its head down, and held Tsanja, gently.
It did not breathe, and Tsanja began to feel chill as her own body heat warmed up the Felthing's lack of it.
An intimacy seemed to arise with this single Felthing, and she began to feel at one with its flesh. Her skin crawled, but she felt the boundary blur between the Felthing's identity and herself.
So much of this world's magic relied on the soul. This must be how they took people from the demon. The Felthings could get their hooks into a soul, and hold it in a woman's body while they ripped out the flesh of the demon. It must be a horribly painful process.
Without the hoods, Tsanja felt sure that these poor women's souls would flee into the darkness, to be gathered, leaving nothing but their pale, dead flesh behind.
There was no need for pain now. Tsanja found herself swimming in the Felthing's awareness, and was able to look upon the memories of all that the Felthing had had seen.
The most immediate memories were of pain, and screams, and hunger assuaged. The Felthing had feasted from the belly of healing women in Solveig. The healers shared a large building, a hospital, in the city, where they would help anyone who needed them.
When the Church decided to move against the healers, they had brought all of their Felthings to visit the hospital in the dead of night. There was no chance of escape. The Felthings first blocked all the exits, and then began to work their way through each room, systematically.
It had taken hours, and Hypatia followed them, and directed them, as much a faithful mascot as a leader.
The Felthing did not feel for the women, the shackles on its mind were too strong. It loved to feel the touch of human flesh, and it hungered for the taste of demon flesh, which energised its physical body.
It turned to the memory of its first conquest.
She was a young mother, and was suckling a baby at her breast as her door was opened. She could do little as the Felthings surrounded her, and held her as Hypatia pulled her baby from her grasp. Hypatia left the room, and the distraught mother was left sobbing until she returned, without the baby, only minutes later.
Tsanja could see the terror on her face as she was laid back on the bed and taken, the screams of pain as the demon was devoured from her belly, and her horror as she saw the Felthings produce the hood to put over her eyes. The heavy cloth was tied tight around her head, her vision was blocked, and she struggled uselessly against the Felthing's soft, but unrelenting, grip.
The wounds to her midriff were terrible, and she was losing much blood, but Tsanja knew that the binding of the choker charms was absolute. They protected the soul, and nothing could rend her soul from her body while she wore the charm.
It was not until the Felthing ripped the choker charm from her neck that the hood was able to do its cruel work. The terror vanished from her face as it sealed her thoughts in bands of iron, and her tongue licked at her lips as they turned to the deepest red, and then it grew. Although blinded by the hood, she became aware of her surroundings, and found the mouth of the nearest Felthing, and they kissed, beginning to share their feelings, their thoughts, their very being.
Even as her soul was bound, her body was not. The Felthings feasted on the blood and fluids that leaked from her abdomen, and, as they withdrew, her flesh was white, and bloodless. The ragged hole in her body was clean. Hypatia threw the healer's choker charm into the her fire, and as the red stone, and black leather, caught, the fire flared white until they were consumed.
Tsanja felt herself beginning to become part of the Felthing's world, and could understand the temptations which had warped Hypatia, allowing her to revel in the Felthing's sensual cruelty. She tried to withdraw from the Felthing's grasp, but it held her tighter, and pressed its flesh into her nakedness. The hooks that the Felthing was placing into her soul were striking deeply into her, and she found herself becoming aroused, desperately wanting to draw the repellent thing even closer. The Felthing kissed her then, with those red, red, lips, and its tongue extended. She had no demon for the Felthing to consume, but its hunger was rising, and Tsanja guessed that it would not be long before it wanted to taste her flesh.
How could this end with anything other than her death? There was no hood to break its grip on her soul, and it would soon begin to feast on her blood and flesh. If it ripped off her choker charm, she would be left defenceless, and her soul would bleed out of her body, into the mystery of the Trinity, beyond this physical world.
Tsanja could do only one thing. The choker charm had released the night-wing. Would it do the same for the Felthing's cloak? She reached up to her neck, untied her own choker, and gently tied it around the neck of the Felthing.
The effect was immediate.
The black hood released its grip on the Felthing's head, and billowed as it fell to the floor. The Felthing soon followed it down, like a sack of potatoes.
It was bald. No hair adorned its head. The thing had no eyes, only white skin covered its eye-sockets. It shook its head, it tried to speak.
“Ohhhh, nooooo, ohhhhh, nooooo, thowwwwy, thowwy, thowwy ...”
It sniffed the air, and tried to crawl towards Tsanja, but Tsanja moaned, backing away in horror.
The thing withdrew immediately, and sat itself against her bed, whereupon it buried its head in its hands, and wept, although no tears would ever emerge from her ruined face..
“I am thooo, thoooo, sorry. Fokiv meeee ...”
Tsanja could see that the Felthing's mind had been restored. She forced herself to go to the revolting thing, and she held it in her arms as they both sobbed. The Felthing was human again, but only just. Her body had been horribly damaged, and must still have the memories of all of those horrific rapes in her mind. How could Tsanja restore any semblance of normality?
“You poor dear, you poor thing. None of this is your fault, please, remember that. You have been used most terribly, I know. What is your name, my girl?”
The Felthing went silent for a time, and remembered.
“Ewenor. Ewenor ith my name.”
“Eleanor, thank you. My name is Tsanja. You have given us all hope.”
They held each other in silence for a time, neither knowing where this would lead now. Eleanor whispered, and tried to speak carefully, still with that horrible tongue in her mouth.
“Tsanja, priestess, I am dead, I know it. My soul is bound, but my body is dead. Please do not judge me, but I want to release my soul to Lilith. You would have me give my soul to the Trinity, but I cannot. You have seen how badly the Sisters have treated us.
“But first, I need to save my own sisters. I need to find more Lilith's tears, more choker charms. Please, priestess, please, help me.”
Tsanja pulled out the choker charms from Poe's bag. There were many.
Tsanja had not heard them called this before, and gave Eleanor one to hold.
“Are these Lilith's tears?”
“Yes, Lilith makes the tears to keep her healers from her own hunger, and from those they heal. Each tear holds and protects the soul of a little one. They are precious, and rare. Only a virgin can bind the stone to the cord.”
Tsanja did not know where Poe had obtained them, but she could guess. Many of them must have been taken by Lilith when she took the villagers in Gynt. But where did the healers get the stones, and that black hide? Her mother had never shown her.
“What are you to do with them?”
“I must wear the hood again. It will not overwhelm me, not while I am wearing my charm, and I need it to see. It will prevent my own charm from being seen.
“Let me free my sisters, and let us deal with Hypatia. I believe that Lilith will be merciful with her, which is more than those in your precious church have been with the healers. It will be a better end than she should hope for.
“If I am successful, the world will change. The Felthings have taken many of the healers, and the rest are now in hiding. Anyone in the land that sickens has little hope now, and the Church can do nothing but say prayers for their souls as they die. Nobody respects the Church now in its vile deceptions, but nobody is brave enough to challenge their corrupt control.
“It is women like I was, the Felthings, who give the Church power now. The old ways, the mystery of love, it was a good way to live, and the Church was respected, and the Healers were tolerated. But now, that is all gone. Sentimental fairy tales are nothing to the Sisters compared to the exercise of true power, of ugly, vicious violence, through their Felthings.
“Hypatia would have the whole land turned to her sadistic purposes, and would only revel in the pain the Felthings inflict upon their own people.
“I know that I can rescue my own sisters.
“They will not feel merciful to the Sisters who have enslaved them and ruined their bodies. I only hope that Lilith's mercy will be enough for them. Some I know will want to punish these poor, evil souls in the Church using more earthly means.
“Thank you, Tsanja, thank you for finding the key to free us all. Stay here awhile, it is not yet safe. First, I shall save my sisters, and then, priestess, the Church will fall.”