XLII: Foresight

“Listen closely, Jazzy,” Morgan Mirkhill told her great-great-grandaughter.

Jessica stared into blind eyes.

“Alright, Morgan,” Jessica replied, setting herself.

“Tomorrow I’m going to die.”

“Wh- ”

Morgan raised a hand, commanding silence.

“When I am dead, you will start to See things, not the way you have been seeing them up until now, but to See things.”

Jessica could hear the capital letters while her foremother spoke. She had known that this day would come of course, but it would have helped if Morgan had given her some more time. More time to prepare, more time to read, more time to prepare before she took up the mantle of Seer within the Coven.

“You won’t be joining the Coven.” 

Jessica blinked at the empty eyes.

“But I thought…all these years of training,” she said, spreading her hands on the lunch table. 

Around them the school cafeteria was emptying, Jessica glanced at the violin case next to her. She was going to be late to music. Morgan appeared to follow her gaze.

“Your teacher is detained, you will arrive before him.”

Jessica nodded, taking it for granted in a way that any Mirkhill child would. Morgan knew.

“So…I won’t be joining the Coven?”

“Maye has broken the Coven and gone missing,” Morgan told her, “Alyxa is also missing, but I know where she is.”

Jessica waited for the ‘she can be found here’ that she was expecting, but there was nothing.

“Morgan – ”

“You will help her and Morpheus and Bast find their way out,” the blind Seer interrupted.

“How?”

“Seeing is what we do, Jazzy. You, your mother, your grandmother, myself. We are the Cassandrian line. By Apollo’s Gift we See, and by his Curse they have do not believe us. You will guide them out of Lucifer’s gilded cages.”

End of Part I, Beginning of Part II

How do you end parts of stories that you’d never intended to have parts in the first place? That’s asking a helluva dramatic question. Let’s be clear on one thing! I never intended for there to be more than one part. In fact there weren’t meant to be parts at all, there was just meant to be a continual narrative telling a story that went whichever which way. As usual, however, the story has a way of finding its own route through its own plot twists.

When I first started writing Valerian Night it was my intent to explore a story in which dead deities incorporated themselves into our world, linking themselves vampirically to a particular human. We can’t forget that I started this as a project for my creative writing course at the University of Canberra. Thus the interactive polls, which gave me a direction to go in, if the story was less charitable.

Which brings me to the end of Part 1 and the beginning of Part 2.

Part 1 has been, on the whole, largely unplanned, direction taking shape all by itself (with a helpful hand from those of you who polled in). So we’ve been on a round trip. We’ve met, directly or indirectly, a host of characters who will be taking the stage throughout the rest of the story. We’ve mixed pantheons, learned about ends of worlds, and washing machines that do the laundry by themselves.

It’s been a gentle ride.

Let’s up the stakes then.

Those of you who read my story Cascades when it was going, you might just encounter some familiar faces.

So enter the Morning Star with suitable theatricality, with flocks of angels on the horizon.

And of course we still have an imprisoned God of Light waiting in the wings…

XLI: Caged

The bars of the two cages were golden, shimmering in the light of the room.


“And how’re my beautiful goddesses today?” the Prince exclaimed as he danced into the room, running his fingers over the bars as he passed on his way to the amber throne.

The strange-furred panther on the left hissed at him and clawed at him.

“Awww, Bast, don’t you like your accommodations? You know I’d have let you stay in a normal room, if only you’d leave the drapes alone, silly kitty.”

-Save your words, Lucifer, I will not hear them!- Bast snarled at him, pacing back and forth in her cell.

Lucifer laughed, falling back into his chair, turning his attention to the cage on the right.

“And how about you, my dearest one?” he practically purred, he glanced at Bast, “do you know, Venus was once frightfully jealous of this one!”

Bast ignored him. The other inhabitant merely shrugged, her true-black hair fell around her kneeling form in supernatural waves, snapping around her angrily, the only betrayal of emotion. Even her ice-blue eyes said nothing.

“Well, Destroyer?” the Morning Star asked her.

She reached out and touched the bars of her prison, the gold shook and trembled beneath her fingers. Lucifer sat back and watched her, a spark of interest lighting in his eyes.

“Always pushing, treasure, always testing me, cheeky goddess,” he murmured, and then laughed again, “but not today, Kali, I have more guests for you to meet!”

Kali dropped her hand and turned her head.

-Morpheus!- Bast hissed as the Dream-King entered, his arm wrapped tightly around Alyxa’s shoulders, -let them go, Dark Prince, they are of no use to you!-

“Au contraire, they are going to be very useful.”

-With what?-

“With giving humanity back what is theirs: imagination….and faith.”

XL: Daystar

There was a stale quality to the air, as though it had been breathed before. Her head hurt; Alyxa opened her eyes slowly, letting them adjust to the soft glow that lit up the room in which she lay. To her surprise rather than lying on a hard stone floor she was resting on a mattress.

“Awake then at last, Dreamer?”

Not even Morpheus was that beautiful, this creature was spellbinding. His hair was nearly white, falling over his shoulders in almost effeminate flows. It was his cheekbones that shocked her; on any other man they might have been too delicate. The eyes were brilliantly blue, the purest cut sapphires had nothing on them.

“It’s been forever since I’ve had guests, especially little Dreaming treasures,” he went on, and all Alyxa could do was watch his lips move.

A perfect mouth. Kissable, and tasteable –

“Alyxa!”

She turned at the sound of her name and saw Morpheus storming in.

“Ah, the Dream-King awakened, undreaming! Rested after your sleep, darling?” the stranger asked, half spinning half hovering out of the way as Morpheus swept by him to wrap his arms around Alyxa protectively.

“Morph- ” she murmured.

“What have you done with us? Why do you hold us here?” the Dream-King demanded.

“I have done nothing, honey,” the stranger told him laughingly.

“Morpheus, what’s going on, who is this guy?” Alyxa asked, alarmed by the panic in Morpheus’ eyes and voice.

“I believe we are prisoners,” he said softly.

“In a way you are guests and I am your keeper.”

“Who are you?”

The stranger laughed and hovered upwards, arms spread in an expression of delight.

“Alyxa…” Morpheus said, his eyes never leaving their ‘host’, “I present to you the Prince of Hell, the Morning Star, the Great Enemy…Alyxa, this is Lucifer.”

XXXIX: Lovers

The soft hum of the car’s engine vibrated through the gear stick as he shifted it up into fourth and brought the BMW around the corner and into the residential zone. The man in the car beside him glanced at him.

“You sure this is the right place?”

“It has to be,” the driver drawled.

“It doesn’t look like what it should look like.”

“Nothing looks like what it should look like, Achilles, that’s why it’s reality.”

“Oh so we’re reverting to old talk are we? Fine! I’m going to go out ‘n knock on the door.”

“You do that, if you get shot, at least I’ll know it was for a good cause.”

Before Achilles could open the door however, the front door opened. The tall woman in red who stepped out was unmistakable.

“I told you this was the right place.”

“Stop dawdling, this child is starting to get on my nerves!”

“You heard the lady,” Achilles muttered and lifted his duffle-bag from the backseat.

Moments later the two of them were sitting on the sofa, facing a fascinated little girl and her comatose Cat-Goddess. The girl stared at them with eyes wide as moons.

“Amy, stop staring, these are Hector and Achilles,” Medea commanded, coming into the room in a cloud of smoke, “now you two boys… tell me how you plan to protect this girl while I attempt the impossible and move Elysium and Reveille to bring Morpheus out of the clutches – ”

Achilles waved a hand dismissively.

“We are the best, my witchy lady,” he told her dismissively.

“Of all the warlords Zeus had to allow down here, it had to be you two,” Medea muttered in disgust, “and you’re lovers too. Irony amuses me.”

Hector laughed and Achilles winked at her.

“Saw it coming?”

XXXVIII: Curiosity

Amy frowned at Bast, petting her frantically while she tried to drip blood into the cat’s mouth with Medea’s impatient aid.

“Are you sure this is going to help, Miss Medea?”

“You are a Dreamer, the blood and flesh of a Dreamer are like…glue, they strengthen the Deity,” the woman explained, and not for the first time.

Amy pursed her lips. It wasn’t that she was trying to be difficult, but it was all so very confusing. Bast had explained the ‘Dreamer’ thing to her before, but it had never been all that clear. Alyxa was the real Dreamer, she knew what it meant, her father had been a Dreamer before her, and her Grandmother. Amy knew because Alyxa had told her; Amy didn’t know anything about what it meant to be a Dreamer.

“So why am I in danger?” she asked.

“Because you are,” Miss Medea snapped, and Amy ducked her head, momentarily scared into silence.

For a moment neither said anything, Amy out of silent terror and Medea for whatever reasons drove her to make such decisions. After several minutes in which each tick the clock in the kitchen made seemed to set the entire house into vibrations, however, Amy could not leave it any longer.

“Are you going to protect me?” she wanted to know, her voice as small as she could make it.

Medea’s eyes flickered for a moment.

“Yes.”

“But….” Amy took a breath and decided to just let loose and ask all the questions at once, “what about rescuing the others? Aren’t you going to do that too? How can you keep me safe and save the others? I’m sure you’re a very smart lady, Miss Medea, but are you really that powerful?”

Again the ominous flicker of the eyes.

“I will have help.”

XXXVII: Rattled

-Ares?- Medea sent the thought racing out, like an arrow, -Ares! Burn your Dice and your Game, pay attention!-

There was a thunder strike in the otherwise clear evening sky.

-Don’t rattle the heavens with Zeus’ thunder, Ares, this is important!-

The amulet hummed against her throat for a moment.

-Oh fine, spoil my fun, witch, what was it you wanted?-

-It’s about Bast. The Dreamer child says the Cat-Goddess is not in her corporeal shape.-

There was a moment of silence, followed by another stream of curses. The amulet grew warm and then burned softly, Medea hissed for Ares to tone it down.

-Can you verify what the Dreamer child said?-

-She’s the Dreamer, not I,- Medea muttered darkly.

Another thunder clap.

-Ares, I – -

-Yes, I know, enough with the thunder. This really pisses me off. To say the least. If she’s not there, then she’s there, which means the Prince has another Dreamer. This is precisely what I wanted to avoid!- Ares growled.

Medea blew out a swirl of smoke, using a finger to manipulate its shape, working it into the shape of a throne.

-Do you think we should contact the Arcs? This is more their department than it is ours, I don’t want to have them asking questions later,- she asked.

-Leave them for the moment, the Arcs are scattered miserably since the Prince slew the Messiah’s last Incarnate,- Ares replied sourly, -I’ve sent the other two to your address already. They should be there in a day or two.-

-And if the Prince comes looking?-

-Do you honestly believe that he is going to leave his fortress while he’s got another caged Goddess? Come now, Medea, stay with the youngling and please try to remember your maternal instinct a little, eh?-

The connection ended.

XXXVI: Comatose

“Is she dead?” Amy whispered.

It had taken only one line and one look to chase off the men that had stood on the porch, and all Medea had had to do was show Amy Bast’s comatose body. They were seated on the sofa, Bast on the seat between them.

“Can you not tell?” Medea asked her, taking Amy’s hand and pressing it gently to the Cat-Goddess’ flank.

Amy pursed her lips and furrowed her brow as deep as she could manage. For a moment there was nothing, and then Amy yanked her hand back.

“What is it, child?”

“She’s not there,” Amy whispered, “it’s all empty inside.”

Medea’s eyes narrowed. This was not something she had expected. Bast was not bound to Zeus’ Ban, the law set down after Troy, or even hampered by the Rift; with her followers, she could go where she wanted. If Bast was not in her physical form there was only one place she could be, and it was that very place that Medea had spent her many centuries avoiding.

“Miss Medea, where is she?”


“I’m not sure,” the Witch lied, an easy thing, especially to the child.

She made to light her cigarette, glanced at her companion and got to her feet.

“I’m going to go smoke and think on this, girl, stay here, maybe feed her a little blood.”

“Blood?”

Amy pulled a face.

“Yes, blood. You are a Dreamer, it might help her,” Medea said, slipping the cigarette into the filter and tapping her lighter impatiently.

“Oh.”

“Don’t go crazy though, child, just a prick to your finger. I can do it for you if you like, after I have had time to think….and smoke.”

“Smoking is bad for you,” Amy said softly, a little worried.

“So they keep telling me.”