Daughter to Demons

by Jeffrey M. Mahr and Levanah

Chapter Twenty-Four:
That Witching Time of Night

Wer mit Ungeheuern kämpft,
mag zusehn, dass er nicht dabei zum Ungeheuer wird.
Und wenn du lange in einen Abgrund blickst,
blickt der Abgrund auch in dich hinein.
 ― Friedrich Nietzsche, Jenseits von Gut und Böse (1886)

Who battles with monsters must guard
against becoming monstrous;
if you stare too long into an abyss,
the abyss just might look back.
 ― Friedrich Nietzsche, Beyond Good and Evil (1886)

The first thing She noticed was that She wasn’t breathing, and Her eyes were staring, fixed and unfocused as male voices above and around Her boasted in archaic Greek about their own prowess in killing both Her and Her mother with a single blow. One laughed — She thought it was Ares — and said in rough translation, “Shall we rape her putrid body as a final insult?” Other voices joined in with crude comments and She felt their hands upon Her ætheric body, but gave no sign of life, drawing in the power of millions of Her worshipers throughout Latin America and billions throughout the world, manifesting the hidden essence of the Ewigweibliche, which is always patient and wise, aware of Herself as the Empyrean, the Ultimate Ground and Foundation of the world, the Heavenly Fire. As Shakti, the primordial cosmic energy that moves the universes, She was the source of every action, and could see the complex network of intersecting desires that brought these three to this place and time, only the proximate nexus of the myriad more circumspect intellects acting behind these boasting thugs to encourage and manipulate them. When She was ready, She withdrew Herself from all of them and they collapsed to whatever ground or floor was closest as they lost all power of movement, thought, or speech; hundreds of Gods, of great Powers and Principalities, of Thrones laid low, as bereft of sense and will as rag dolls stuffed with sawdust, and then the work began.

Without fear, without anger, free from passion, She passed through each mind, inspecting, judging, and let their individual karma decide their paths, some to rebirth, some to oblivion, but all to different roads than those upon which they’d trod theretofore.

At last, She returned to the atelier, where the three Gods still lay sleeping. She woke them, but left them lying where they were, scattered about Her own body, their garments in disarray, as were Her own.

“Now I am become Death,” She said, “the destroyer of worlds. Even without Lilith’s help, all here will die, and pass into the shadows, because you arrayed yourselves against Me. The demonic hosts fear Me, and fly from Me; even the ranks of angels quail before Me, and dissolve into that final oblivion at the touch of My hand, but in your hubris, you dared to raise your hands against Me. For you, My naughty children, there lies a different path from any you would have chosen, if you still had a choice, for each of you will pass the next ten thousand incarnations as dryads, or hamadryads, nymphs of the trees who love the Sun. In caring for them, you will learn to care, and until you learn to care without stint, and without measure, you’ll remain bound forever to the trees, one after another, until the last tree in the last wood on Earth perishes.” With a wave of Her hand She transformed them, clothed them modestly, and sent them each to their appointed places on the wide Earth.

Then She summoned Hecate, Eris, and Aphrodite, all Aspects of Herself, saying, “There are vacancies on Olympus which you must fill however you will, for Zeus, Ares, and Hephæstus are no longer with us, having been required for service elsewhere.”

Eris said, “What the fuck? How dare you speak to us so haughtily? Where are they really?”

The other two Goddesses didn’t look any happier.

She glared at them, but they seemed to be as immune to Her glare as Lilith had been. “Okay, have it your own damned way! Here you go!” And then She rolled back time.

The first thing She noticed was that She wasn’t breathing, and Her eyes were staring, fixed and unfocused as male voices above and around Her boasted in archaic Greek about their own prowess in killing both Her and Her mother with a single blow. One laughed, She thought it was Ares, and said in rough translation, “Shall we rape her putrid body as a final insult?” Other voices joined in with crude comments and She felt their hands upon Her ætheric body, but gave no sign of life, drawing in the power of millions of Her current worshipers throughout Latin America and billions throughout the world, manifesting the hidden essence of the Ewigweibliche, which is always patient and wise, aware of Herself as the Empyrean, the Ultimate Ground and Foundation of the world, the Heavenly Fire. As Shakti, the primordial cosmic energy that moves the universes, She was the source of every action, and could see the complex network of intersecting desires that brought these three to this place and time, only the proximate nexus of the myriad more circumspect intellects acting behind these boasting thugs to encourage and manipulate them. When She was ready, She struck, reaching up from the floor with Her talons to rip the hearts from their bodies, thick ichor flying as She tore them limb from limb with terrible force, even as they screamed in vain for mercy, the golden liquid dripping like aromatic honey from the mangled gobbets of divine flesh and bone that soon littered the studio. And then She plunged Her gory hands through the fragile bones of their skulls, straining through the grey pudding of their Godly brains until She had their souls in hand, popping them with exquisite cruelty into their own individual diamonds, each plucked from the air above Her head, and then tossed carelessly back into a small red velvet bag.

When the three of them were history, She traced back the web of lies and deceit that that trailed like cobwebs from their shattered skulls onto ætheric pathways that led, one by one, to their co-conspirators and henchmen, and then to the puppetmasters behind them all, the arcane cartel of evil angels, twisted Gods, whoremongers, slavers, and supernatural druglords behind the brutal machinations of their dupes and underlings, the three Olympian Gods.

Each one was added to her cache of souls, their vital essences ripped shrieking from the shredded remnants of their formerly immortal bodies, which lay mute witness to the carnage by now scattered to the four corners of the world, hundreds of Gods, of great Powers and Principalities, of Thrones laid low, as bereft of sense and will as rag dolls stuffed with sawdust, and then the real work began.

One by one, each was either embodied and endowed with a new karma — enforced by a portion of Herself buried deep at the base of their spines — or destroyed. The three Olympians she reserved for last, embodied them in the form of harmless dryads, nymphs of the deep woods, and left them sleeping in the midst of the carnage in the warehouse. Then She summoned Hecate, Eris, and Aphrodite, all Aspects of Herself, saying, “Look around you. Get the picture? As you’ll notice, Zeus, Ares, and Hephæstus are no longer among the living, nor are many of their fellows, all around the world, which list includes Hermes, who has gone down to oblivion, having sipped the healing waters of the river Lethe. The three nymphæ you see here embody what remains of their souls, and all three have a doom upon them to serve as dryads for ten thousand dryad lifetimes, which as you know, might be very nearly forever. Would you like to join them?”

Eris spoke first, not so belligerently as she had the first time around, “Who are you?”

“You can call Me Gaia, your mother, in fact, but I’m much older than that. I’m that part of you that gives you life and power. You could also call Me Death. Do you wish to defy Me?”

“No, Mother,” Hecate said, and the others nodded their instant assent and submission, recognizing both the mangled corpses of the Gods and overwhelming power when they saw it.

“Since it’s your Olympian Pantheon, it’s up to you how you fill any vacancies. I can give you another Zeus, if you want one, and any of the others, but you’ll have to come up with suitable candidates for elevation to Olympus. Or you could do it on your own; I presume that ambrosia and nektar are still available. I personally think the world has had enough of war Gods, and thunder Gods — much of a muchness, as far as I can tell — but boys will be boys, and they seem to like having them lying about. You, Hecate, Deep Soul of All the World, Guardian of Every Gateway, used to be the boss of things, as I recall, and I wouldn’t mind a bit if you took over again. This is, after all, an age of women’s liberation. But as I say, it’s entirely up to you.”

The three Goddesses looked at one another for a moment, then came to a tacit understanding. Hecate spoke for all of them, “We’d like to think about it, and thank you for your mercy and consideration.”

She smiled. “A wise choice. Independence is always a good start, and there’s nothing like Death to make new beginnings easier. Let me know if there’s anything you need.”

Hecate spoke again, “I think we’ll be fine on our own, Mother. As you say, ambrosia and nektar can supply any lack, if we discover an unforeseen need, and there are plenty of Heroes in the world.”

She smiled again, proud of them, and said, “Go then with my blessing. I’ve always loved you, you know.”

Eris approached Her first, reaching out her arms, and She returned her embrace with love, filling her heart with love, and letting love change her nature slightly, although She liked her feistiness, so tacitly made her much stronger, strong enough to rival the Ares that was, without his grotesque bulging muscles, so she was still lithe and beautiful. “We’re sorry for what Apollo did to your oracle, Mother,” she said.

She smiled. “Change is the way of my world, dear, and he’s done a fairly good job since then, and an excellent work for all humanity as leader of the Muses. Think nothing of it.” She smiled again, then added, “And besides, bisexual men are just so hot.” She licked Her lips, warmed through just thinking about Apollo and Hyacinth, and the dozens, the hundreds of other young men he’d bedded over the long years.

All three Goddesses giggled at the sudden change in tone, then laughed out loud, which changed the overall mood entirely, so Hecate and Aphrodite rushed toward her together and hugged her close.

“It’s been ages, Mother,” Hecate said.

“I’ve been around,” She said. You just haven’t noticed. You have to look sharp, but you can see Me outside your window, or look out over Me as you gaze down from radiant Olympus, and I’ve always been there for you. If you concentrate, you can feel Me coiled at the very center of your being.

Then She spoke to Aphrodite, “My shining one, eldest of the Olympian Gods and Goddesses, bright dawn illuminating the world, your cruel husband is dead and you are free of him now, free to seek your own destiny. Use your freedom wisely.” And then she gave her a very fond embrace, and kissed her deeply. “My special blessing and love to you, Daughter, who are so very close to My own heart’s truest desire, which is love always.”

“Thank you, Mother. I’ve dreamed of this day for long ages of the world,” she said, still clasping Her tight, her eyes closed, her head resting on Her bosom.

“I know, Dear, and I’m very glad that I finally found the opportunity to free you. When he overreached himself at last and rose up against Me with his fellows, he offended your aunt the Lady Themis, Revered Titaness, Honored Guardian of the Divine Order, and so his hubris opened the door to his own downfall.” She kissed her again. “And now, my dear children, I have things to do, so if you might take your leave of me, I can get to doing them.”

Hecate spoke first, as was her right. “Of course, Mother. It was very nice to see you, and you’re always welcome on Olympus now, whatever your reception may have been before.”

“Thank you, Hecate. I have a parting gift for you.” She handed her a thunderbolt, especially prepared to fit her hand. “You never know when it might be handy, and your new subjects are used to seeing it as a badge of office. It has this special virtue, that whenever you imagine the feel of it in your hand, it will instantly appear, so in casting it, you’ll never throw it away for more than an instant, and no other hand can hold it.”

“Thank you, Mother Gaia. You do me honor,” Hecate bowed in respect and gratitude, knowing that the thunderbolt would be of immense worth in solidifying her claim to the throne of Zeus, not least because it was a visible sign of Gaia’s favor, and the formal bestowal of arms that gave her a warrior’s status.

“An honor richly deserved and too long in abeyance, considering your former glory,” She said, and turned then to Eris. “Eris, I have a gift of equal worth for you.” She handed her an object in a crescent-shaped sheath. “This is the very sickle that castrated Uranus and indirectly saved all your lives. It too has a special virtue, although it appears to be only common flint, that it will cleave through anything you slash with it as if it were fog or smoke, from cobwebs to immortal flesh to tempered steel or ceramic, all will yield with equal ease, and the weapon itself is indestructible. Wielding it takes as little effort as waving a feather or a willow wand, but it will leave terrible destruction in its wake, whether held in the hand or thrown like a discus. Keep it sheathed as you see it now, until you want to use it. In fact, you needn’t carry it at all, unless you want to make a point. Like Hecate’s thunderbolt, it will come to you instantly when you call it to mind, and it will accept no other mistress.”

“Mother!” Eris protested. “This is a weapon of enormous worth! I’m humbled by your generosity.”

“My dear one,” She said oracularly, “ you’ll soon have great need of it, but you will triumph over your enemies, and none who survive the encounter — or even hear about it — will ever dare to face you after.” Finally, She turned to Aphrodite. “Daughter, for you the most subtle gift and weapon of all; a simple mirror of ancient speculum metal, but it has three virtues: First, that objects reflected in it reveal their true natures, so you can use it to peer into hearts and minds, piercing through even the subtlest counterfeits in either word or deed; Second, that it has, like the Ægis, the power to stun anyone other than yourself — or anything — looking directly at the speculum surface, but only temporarily — an hour or two at most for Gods, or the equivalent in days for human beings — so you needn’t worry about turning people to stone; Third, that every time you gaze at your own reflection, your beauty will, for the period of roughly one day, increase ten-fold. You’ll appear so fair that all who look at you will love you desperately, and be utterly incapable of harming you, or even thinking to harm you through either action or inaction. Like the other gifts, it will know when your hand wants it, and will tolerate no other.”

Aphrodite grinned and laughed, very prettily of course. “It’s perfect, Mother, just what I’ve always wanted.”

She smiled and said, “Well, it’s a lot better than Mace, or even a machine gun, when it comes to that, but it will save you quite a bit of money on cosmetics as well, not to mention the time and effort spent applying it, so it’s a frugal gift, perfect for a girl with a busy… social schedule, and will help you to choose suitable companions.”

Then, as if only an afterthought, She enhanced the physical strength and psychic auras of all three Goddesses, the better to intimidate their fellow Olympians, leaving them in an excellent position to impose their collective will if assent wasn’t freely given. “Off you go then, girls. I’ve work to do.”

With that they bowed again, this time in love and respect, but each of them was already calculating her own best tactics in the inevitable struggle for power which would ensue as soon as the deaths of the three Gods became known, and then they vanished as one, already coördinating their efforts perfectly. She had every confidence that they would prevail, and Aphrodite’s new mirror would make plots against the three very difficult to conceal. She would be an equal partner in the new triumvirate, not least because the other two would be forever in love with her, unless She erred in Her estimation of Her daughter’s wits, which was of course impossible. Power was nice to have, but strategy and good intelligence would also be required to carry the day. Aphrodite would make a perfect spy, and their ménage à trois would be proof against masculine seductions.

When they left She started tidying the warehouse space — She felt oddly domestic after Her recent activities. She could just imagine the ‘To Do’ list: (A) Overthrow the Gods; (B) Foment a feminist revolution; (C) Do the washing up — wishing the bodies into instant oblivion and removing the stains of ichor from the floor and walls. Luckily, they’d been in the anteroom to the vaults, an area without much furniture and no carpets, just industrial vinyl, so cleanup wasn’t difficult. Ichor stained so if it got on the rugs.

While She was at it, she repaired the damages to the photo studio and data vault, then flitted off to take care of a few serious climate problems in the Amazon. She had a world to run, after all, but had a nagging feeling that She’d forgotten something. It would come to Her, She was sure.

Feeling a little light-headed, Jackie looked around her, confused by more memories than she could cope with right then. She’d just killed three of the ancient Greek Gods, but her memories after that were fuzzy, although she could remember hugging Aphrodite, then kissing her, which had been… exciting, in a very strange way. She was in the vault, which had been a shambles, last she looked, yet here it was as neat and fresh as if her violent encounters with the angels had never happened. She felt a sort of vertigo, somehow the opposite of déjà vu, and she knew that this should have been a familiar place, a commonplace of her daily life, but it felt odd, as if she were encountering it for the first time. Was there such a thing as jamais vu?

She wandered out onto the shop floor, where new false memories flooded through her brain. The large laser cutting table was covered with random bolts of cloth, all of them unwound into a tangled pile of fabrics, velvets and corduroys mostly, but silks as well, and blushed as she vaguely remembered having sex with Father Sam, lots of sex, violent sex, and she’d been the one doing most of it. She could smell the scent of sex in the air, and it was mostly her, although she could see stains of what must be semen on some of her cloth. Jesus! What the fuck happened here last night? Or was it tonight? Her head was spinning again when — speak of the Devil — who should pop in but Father Sam?

He said, “Lilith!” and swept her into his arms again, and that’s when things became really confusing. She’d read Erica Jong’s Fear of Flying as a girl, of course, purely for research purposes, but hadn’t been able to imagine what a ‘zipless fuck’ might have felt like before, except that it was wonderful, and suddenly she was flying, and Sam was on top of her, then inside her, as easy and natural as if he belonged there, and they were screwing like there was no tomorrow, and she was already coming, screaming, and Sam was shouting something in ancient Hittite, and she knew exactly what he meant. She could smell him, feel his weight on top of her, and he was still inside her, still moving, and that old familiar feeling was building again, a little tickle that was starting deep inside her, and she could feel it rushing toward her like a train. She was on rails, and could no more stop it coming than she could stop the sun from shining, and she was concentrating on coaxing it to the forefront of her sensorium until it overwhelmed her, and he was moving between her legs, his heat and the motion between her legs, and then suddenly she exploded again, a wave of sensations flooding through her belly in a series of powerful contractions, a wave of heat spreading across her stomach and breasts, and a breathless pause in the progress of time, before she started breathing again.

“Uhm… Sam?” she said from under him, trying to unclench her nails from where they were digging into his back, afraid that she’d hurt him, or even drawn blood, and feeling more than a little awkward, because he was still inside her and still hard, still moving slowly, gently caressing her with his hands as his… thing soothed her from the inside out.

He smiled down at her, his eyes wide and filled with love, giving her a little wriggle with his hips that did amazing things deep inside her. “Yes, my darling girl?”

She almost regretted having to say this, because what he was doing to her felt so very nice, exquisitely fine, actually, “I’m not Lilith.”

She’d never realized how quickly such an enormous erection could shrink, so rapidly that the walls of her vagina were left slightly behind, closing slowly, the barn door swinging shut long after the horses had been and gone, and she could feel the slight stickiness of her nether lips on him as he pulled himself out of her as frantically if her pussy was a bear trap just now snapping tight.

“What the Hell?” he bellowed, scrambling off the cutting table and fumbling for his clothes, which were somehow scattered randomly around them, as if they’d been involved in a laundry explosion. Her clothes were mingled with his, but toward the outer edge of the general chaos, and she was utterly and completely naked, her legs still splayed wide as he tried not to look at her and still find his clothes, which he was trying to put back on his body as rapidly as possible.

She was surprised that she wasn’t more discomfited, but she wasn’t at all, she realized, because she remembered being married, taking lovers, thousand of them over the long years, although she couldn’t recall a situation exactly like this one. She suddenly realized that she was married still, that she had hundreds of husbands even now, perhaps thousands, and was going about Her daily lives with them even as she lay there on the cutting table, by now careless of her state of déshabilleé through long familiarity with the comfortable rhythms of married life. She stretched her arms out in languorous luxury, feeling more at ease with herself than she ever had before, satisfied, if not completely satiated, having just experienced what she might think of as a ‘quickie.’ although she couldn’t actually remember having a ‘longie….’ in this body recently, although she was still a little hazy about what had happened. “Don’t worry, Sam,” she said. “While you were out….”

He bellowed again, incoherently, wordlessly, before he managed to shout, “While I was out!” he practically screamed. “What the Hell just happened here!?”

This Sam was much more excitable than the one she remembered, but then again she remembered years and years of experiences with him, some good, some bad, before their recent quarrel. ‘Well…. Quarrel didn’t exactly describe their most recent falling out,’ she thought to herself. ‘Feud, really. if not quite as deadly as the Hatfield and McCoy variety. No one had been killed, actually, at least not that she remembered.’

“Now, Sam, darling, don’t get your feathers all ruffled up. We can fix this.” She tried to soothe his wounded feelings and ego by reaching out to take his hand, but he snatched it back as if he’d just been burned.

He tried to control himself, but was obviously getting angry. “Jackie, would you please tell me what the Hell just happened here?”

“Now, Sam,” she said soothingly. “Don’t get so excited. It’s a simple misunderstanding, that’s all, and certainly not the first time. Remember the love potion?” She giggled. “Now that was a contretemps to beat this one all hollow.” She grinned. “Although it had somewhat similar results, as I recall.” She looked around them. “We were outside then, right out on the deck of that pretty boat of yours, and the servants were scandalized, although the movements of that heaving deck as your boat plunged through the waves, even as your cock plunged inside of me, taking my maidenhead as thoroughly as you’ve just done now, and the sun beating down on our naked bodies as you did your very best to pound me right through the rolling wooden boards added a certain piquancy, a delicious novelty, to our first coupling. We’ve had much more privacy here. Remember how embarrassed we were when the sailors all started cheering? Well, at least we were embarrassed by the time we actually stopped what we were doing at the time and noticed.” She looked at him with the easy familiarity of long and intimate acquaintance.

He stared at her, still confused. “Jackie…? Lilith…? What’s happening here?”

“I was trying to tell you, Sam.” She pouted just a little, a tiny moue of adorable frustration. “While you were out being the gallant gentleman, escorting Ruth home safely, and I trust she did get home safely, Sam….”

“Yes, yes, of course she did,” he said impatiently. “Tom was waiting up for her, but thanked me very politely for escorting her home, since it was so very late by then, early in the morning….” He caught himself being distracted and forced himself to be calm again when he said, “Would you please finish the story. We were just at the point where you, Jackie, the sexual innocent, until recently a virgin, was explaining how she knew all about things that happened a thousand years before she was even born, and doesn’t seem at all upset about cuckolding her fiancée.”

“I beg your pardon, Sam, but it was you who cuckolded my financée, when it comes to that. I was an innocent bystander, at first, although I have to admit that I reciprocated….” She laughed at her pun. “…that I participated with a certain enthusiasm, once you’d made your point.”

“Whatever.” He gritted his teeth. “Would you please finish explaining what just happened here.”

“I was trying to explain, before you so rudely interjected….” She couldn’t help but laugh again. “I was just getting warmed up….” This time, she fell into paroxysms of merriment and laughter, and simply laughed until she finally ran out of steam. She sighed heavily, then gathered her scattered thoughts again. “Anyway,” she said, calm at last, “while you were out squiring Ruth around, Zeus, Ares, and Hephæstus dropped by to kill us, Lilith and I…. or was it Jackie and I? In any case, Zeus tossed one of those dreadful noisy thunderbolts of his at us, so I, or was it… In any case, Lilith was killed, except she wasn’t, because she’d taken the precaution of designating me as her heir, so of course all her lives and memories simply flowed into mine, or I flowed into hers… I’m still a little hazy about this part, and they were raping me, or at least raping my body, because I’d sort of stepped aside while they were busy, so I killed them, twice, actually. The first time didn’t seem quite satisfying enough, and Hecate wasn’t impressed at all, so I had to do it over.” She paused, thinking back on it. “Hecate and the girls were right, of course. The second time around was much more satisfying.”

“The girls?” Sam asked, reasonably enough.

“Sam, you’re never going to hear the end of this story if you keep interrupting,” she said unreasonably. “Hecate, Eris, and Aphrodite, of course, the three Goddesses I’d chosen to take the place of the three Gods I’d just executed.”

“Murdered, you mean!” he said sullenly.

“No, Sam,” she glared at him with her customary and haughty contempt. “Executed. Haven’t you been listening? They’d just murdered me, attempted to murder Jackie, my designated heir, and therefore a Princess Royal, and were in the process of raping her unconscious body when my fell vengeance overtook the three of them and laid them low. As the rightful Queen and Monarch of the Americas and beyond, I hold the high justice of this world, and they were guilty of high treason, deacide, murder, and rape, all capital offences, for which they paid the price they should have reckoned with, had they still the brain cells they were born with. I don’t mind piddling around with angels, since they’re harmless enough, but one doesn’t imprison Gods unless one has a death wish, which I do not, and they evidently did. Olympus has a new ruler now upon the Throne, an older and wiser ruler than Zeus ever was, and First among the many he overthrew to gain the throne. It’s a fair enough point to score, and was both the fulfillment of dharma and the logical implication of their karma, along with several hundred co-conspirators and facilitators.”

“Hundreds!” he expostulated.

“Sam,” she said with only moderate kindness, “You’ve always placed too much faith in Gods and Kings and Princes. You’re well on your way toward forsaking your bold declaration and intent, and loosing your precarious hold upon your own happiness. Will you hold your tongue, or will you leave My Presence forsworn?”

“Forsworn?” He was taken aback, dismayed by the notion.

“Shall I recite the words of your oath? Have you forgotten them so soon?”

“I….”

“You swore, not quite as formally as I would have liked, but before two adult witnesses, to act upon your own to ensure my happiness. I can tell you now that after a very good start, you’re beginning to falter in your duty.”

“But you tricked me!” He seemed incongruously outraged.

“No, Sam, I did not. As the Eldest amongst the Elders, my claim upon your feudal loyalty was and always will be senior to any other. My tolerance of your failures, and of your often tiresome infatuations with men and with their dicks, was out of kindness and forbearance, not any relinquishment of my rightful claims upon your oath, nor upon your person. So now we come to the sticking point, dear Tristan, sweet Rāmin, are you my liege man or not? Choose wisely, but choose now.”

“I just wish for once you’d given me a little bit of warning, Mother, before plunging me into these little surprises.” Jackie was grousing, as usual, after being re-manifested in a new body, having been extremely uncomfortable sharing her body with her Mother, and not particularly interested in having it back either, although she didn’t exactly begrudge her mother having the temporary use of it, what with her own having been destroyed by Zeus when she’d courageously saved Jackie’s life at the expense of her own.

“And how, exactly, does one warn someone about what it feels like to have your head invaded by an army of strangers, although in fairness, they’re also a little bit like family. I offered to let you keep your old body, after all.”

“No, thank you, Mother.” Jackie scowled. “Although I never imagined stringing these particular words together in my life, I believe bodies are like toothbrushes, and should never be shared, especially after you’ve used it to ‘entertain’ your damned boyfriend!”

“Hardly damned, Dear, if perhaps a little less sanctimonious than he was for so many tedious years, and it certainly wasn’t my intention. Sam came up with that idea all on his own.” Lilith couldn’t help but smile, remembering.

“I know that, Mother! I was there! It was kind of hard to ignore that particular notion….” Then she blushed as she realized that ‘hard’ could have two meanings.

“Well, you didn’t have to pay attention. And besides, how many times in life do you suppose you’ll have the opportunity to have a man go down on his knees and swear eternal fealty to you as his sovereign and master? You have to learn to take these things in stride, Jackie, if you ever expect to make it past your first thousand years or so and remain truly sane.” She smiled again, remembering again. “And make-up sex always has a certain piquancy to it, as I’m sure you’ll agree, having been there, eavesdropping, as it were. Don’t worry so much about it. In years to come, we’ll laugh about this, I’m sure. And if not this lifetime, then the very next at most. You’ll feel much more mellow by then.”

Privately, Jackie wondered if her mother was, in fact, completely sane. “If you say so, Mother,” she said sourly, and rolled her eyes.

Lilith ‘tsked’ just once. “Jackie, my dearest daughter, instead of always moping about feeling glum, try looking on the bright side. You’re alive, and came very close to the opposite state, which has very little to recommend it, all in all. With all your new memories, you now know exactly how to achieve pregnancy as an ætheric being, something that’s very difficult to explain without personal experience. Isn’t that one of the things you so desperately wanted to learn? Not to mention learning how to control your appetites in even the most intimate situations, a skill you’d also been very interested in mastering, and to top it all, you’ve had the heady experience of killing Gods and angels in their hundreds, a distinction shared by only a very few of the truly elect. Really, Jackie, you’re being almost as stodgy as poor Sam, who’s been beaten down by centuries of unwilling service to cruel and brutal masters, despite his loving heart. You really ought to feel on top of the world, mistress of all you survey, and so anointed with the chrism of power and prestige that none will dare to raise their hands against you for a thousand years or more.”

“Well….”

“And remember, dear, that protection will extend to your entire household, so your babies….” Lilith gazed at her for a moment with her peculiar oracular stare…. “Three of them, I think, two girls and a boy, who will be free to play outside without a troop of supernatural bodyguards kept within an arm’s length or two. In our current society, under the chaotic Compact, it’s a very good thing to be feared, and you will be feared as my heir — a reciprocal arrangement, by the way — every bit as much as I am. Even I, already feared by almost everyone who doesn’t love me well, have bought ourselves a little more protection when we not only vanquished Zeus and two others of the Olympian Gods, but extirpated them and all their fellow conspirators from all the worlds, leaving a gaping vacuum and horrific warning that will be noticed for a very long time to come. When one is theoretically immortal, any evidence of the contrary possibility attracts considerable interest. Even the new trio of ruling Goddesses on Olympus — as fearsome as they are now in their own persons — will lounge with especial ease in the comfort of our warm regard, because they will be widely known as our particular friends and avatars, and of course this web of mutual regard and coöperative protection extends both ways, especially because females tend to be better at recognizing and maintaining these reciprocal relationships, while males often overlook or ignore them. And don’t forget that you alone resurrected Tiamat, the most ancient of us, the first descent of Woman into time, now risen from Her long sleep.”

Jackie felt a little uncomfortable talking about all this, because her mother seemed to see causation in things that appeared like random happenstance to Jackie, or pure dumb luck. “Well, I had help from Sal.”

“True, but who knew exactly how Sal worked until you figured it out scientifically? That silly satyr was going about things in the traditional way and was all set to fail, but you figured it all out in just a few seconds, or so it seems in retrospect, and dead bang, Bob’s your uncle, it’s all done and you could package and sell it in the shops.”

“Mother! I’m not going to turn Sal into a ‘fountain of youth’ for profit! I asked a special favor for a friend exactly twice, each time when they appeared to be at death’s door and it seemed the only way to save their lives. I don’t want to impose on Sal’s sweet nature, because I don’t know how doing this affects him. He doesn’t seem to be harmed by it, but I don’t know enough about it right now, and I won’t risk his health or safety on a whim.”

Lilith looked at her as if she were an idiot. “Jackie, I was speaking metaphorically, a type of jest meant to highlight the fact that you solved a puzzle that’s occupied brilliant scholars, erudite students of the arcane arts, and charlatans of all stripes and colors for the last six thousand years in the blink of an eye. Men have devoted their lives to this quest, Jackie; criminals have murdered for it; and all have failed. I suspect, but can’t quite prove, not having your academic skills, that the reason Sal hasn’t been able to find any of his fellow salamanders for so many years is that idiots like Debauck have been killing them or cutting them up, either looking for the secret jewel or sigil hidden inside them, or torturing them, as Debauck did, trying to force the poor salamanders to perform like trained seals.”

“But that couldn’t possibly work!” Jackie protested, scandalized.

“Of course it wouldn’t, Jackie, as you so cleverly demonstrated, but you saw how monomaniacal Debauck was. I’ve no reason to suspect that many of the others who’ve devoted their lives to this quest are all that much smarter, more generous, or possess a greater inclination toward loving kindness. The quest for eternal life tends to attract assholes, if you’ll pardon the vulgarity. How do you think they’d react if you told them that the ‘secret’ was to turn themselves into really nice guys. Turning lead into gold would be lots easier. And murdering a baker’s dozen of innocent victims might seem worth a shot to many of these sorts if turning into Pollyanna were the only alternative.”

The appearance of the skylights high above her head had turned from pits of inky darkness above the artificial light to the pale gray-blue light of dawn by the time Jackie felt brave enough to go home. She was delaying the inevitable, she knew, but kept finding things that seemed desperately to need doing — gathering up and rewinding the bolts of fabric scattered over the cutting table; sweeping the already spotless floor; working on ideas for several new designs she wanted to explore for the next season’s lines — it wasn’t until she started making decorative arrangements of the pins in a red cloth pincushion that she admitted to herself that she was avoiding seeing Frank, because she knew she’d have to tell him what had happened.

She looked around the interior of the warehouse, remembering how it was when she’d first started, a bare concrete floor, cracked and stained for the most part, the dusty red brick walls, a few high windows, and one wall of rolling doors that opened onto the loading dock, a building that had once meant nothing to anyone, other than as a covered loading dock where drunks could stand or sleep out of the rain, as a perch for birds, and as a canvas for graffiti artists. But now it gave employment to nearly three dozen women and men, furnished a ready market for several small businesses that had sprung up almost overnight to service the main enterprise, and had even turned a small profit for her mother’s bar and restaurant, because many of the women ate lunch there. Whatever else she’d done in life, what she’d done here was good.

She went to the control panel by the main door, turned off the main lights, leaving only the half-light illumination of the night circuits, then grabbed her purse, turned on the alarm, and had flitted away before it started beeping.

Frank wasn’t up when she got home, but soon would be, judging from the clock in the kitchen. She put on the coffee, went out to the living room, sat down on the couch and watched the fire until Sal hopped out and laid his doggy head on her lap, turning over slightly, to encourage her to scratch his tummy, the which she did gladly, since it gave her something to do with her hands while she waited. In her mind, she was running through all the things she wanted to say, but what she was really afraid of was that Frank might say, ‘Goodbye.’

Copyright © 1998, 2002, 2005, 2007, 2009 by Jeffrey M. Mahr

Copyright © 2011, 2012 by Levanah