Fallen Pride - 15. Chapter 15

They had arrived back through the West portal to find a message waiting for them, bearing instructions that Court was indeed in session, Kiorl was late, and he was expected to bring Lahja with him. The angel folded his arms across his chest and frowned.

“Why?”

“How should I know?” Kiorl huffed. “I can’t read minds, Lahja.”

Lahja took the paper from Kiorl fingers and smiled at the fluid shapes of Nassau’s handwriting.

“I thought he was your friend? Why is he demanding your company?

“He is, and I don’t know.” The big cat growled softly. “And it’s our company he’s asking for. Are you coming, or not?”

Lahja beamed.

“Well, let’s go.”

Lahja followed the big panther on a different route which lead away from the house, roughly following a wide lava river which flowed and crackled in time with the distant roaring flames of the fiery walls which separated the inner circle of hell from everything else. He stopped on a flattish section of rock, and turned to look up the hill at their house. Zinkara Rumah was not the biggest or tallest of the houses which clustered the slopes around the palace, but it had the best position. A view of importance and from the way the land around it was shaped, Lahja could tell he lived somewhere other people desired to be.

Nassau had to have placed him there for a reason, and Lahja was eager to find out why.

As they approached the palace doors, the angel paused, and touched Kiorl’s shoulder gently. The panther stiffened, shivered, and turned to look at him.

“Lahja?”

“Here.” The angel held out the little reliquary. The soul inside it sloshed gently.

“No, you keep it.”

“But it was your...” Lahja paused, trying to find the right word. “Scene.”

“You can present it to Nassau. He’ll like that.”

“Really?” Lahja clutched the strangely shaped vial to his chest with a grin. The idea of being able to give something of apparent value to the Prince of hell excited him. Nassau had given him so much since he’d arrived, and despite being told by Kiaza that repayment was totally unnecessary, he wanted to show his gratitude.

“Yeah, really.” Kiorl waved away the guide who waited for them. “This way.”

The palace was like a building built out of an amalgamation of parts. Rough stone, intricately carved pillars, mosaic patterns of brilliance and beauty, rooms of hard lines and sharp angles, fountains of staggering wonder built to an enormous scale, a long passageway with flying buttresses supporting the ceiling, a hall lit with messy oil-fueled torches which clouded the view with inky smoke.

Lahja followed close to Kiorl, fear creeping in to the edges of his mind. It would be an awful thing to be lost in the palace, and Lahja doubted even Nassau’s powerful empathic talent could be used to find people trapped in the maze. Kiorl seemed to know his way like it was marked on the floor, and when he finally stopped outside a completely non-descript door, Lahja walked into him.

“Oh!”

Kiorl turned, his ears laid back over his complicated braids, and Lahja frowned. He was used to the big black panther looking powerful, scary, evil, and self-satisfied, maybe once or twice even momentarily worried, but the expression on his face now was different. He looked hopeless.

“You’ve wanted to see him for a while, haven’t you?”

“Kiorl?”

“I’d best not keep you waiting.” Kiorl pushed open the door, went in and stepped aside. With the smallest inclination of his head, he beckoned Lahja in. “Welcome to Court.”

The hall was circular and bright. Light, which certainly didn’t come from the world outside, streamed in through long windows set high into the walls all around them. There were a variety of demons present, many seated at round plush green tables, eating or playing games. Lahja had seen Kiaza and several of the other members of the house playing cards, another game Tobias said was like chess but played in four dimensions, and a few others which all involved strange playing pieces and rules which took decades to master. Laughter echoed around the chamber along with the easy conversation of the demons of the Royal Court. There was a dais on the far side of the room, and on it a throne designed for someone with wings.

Nassau was however, seated on the red steps by himself, playing a blink fast game of something or other involving dice. Lahja wasted no time in approaching him.

“Sire?”

“Lahja! How nice to see you out and about. You like the clothes? They suit you very well.”

“Er….” Lahja had forgotten that when Nassau wasn’t being haughty, he sounded incredibly normal. “Thank you.”

“Come, sit with me. Tell me about your adventures Upstairs.”

Lahja did as he was bid, and watched Nassau clear his dice and pieces away into a little velvet purse. The Prince smiled at him, and Lahja remembered the object he was holding. He held the reliquary out with a smile.

“Kiorl said I should give it to you.”

“Very nice.” Nassau took the vial by it’s leather thong and allowed it to spin softly. The soul inside glistened. “Did you take it?”

“We….” Lahja looked over his shoulder expecting to see Kiorl standing there, but the big panther hadn’t followed him to Nassau’s throne. He was sitting with a pale white scaly person and another who seemed totally human, talking quietly. “We did it together.”

“Good. I’m glad you’re getting along better.”

We’re not, Lahja said to himself.

And why not? It was a shock to find the Prince’s voice in his head. Lahja had almost forgotten much of what he thought was open to Nassau. You were projecting rather loudly, Lahja. Sometimes it’s hard not to overhear.

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry,” the Prince chided gently. “Just tell me why you’re not getting on.”

“He….” Lahja tried to recapture the feeling which had swelled up inside his body, hot and new and hard to define, when Jeremiah had asked him who he wanted to kiss. He’d yearned for the big black panther, and he had no adequate explanation as to why. “He says he wants to kiss me because I’m beautiful.”

“And you are.”

“Oh.” Lahja shuffled uncomfortably. Ever since Kiaza had showed him his own body, brimming over with the snake’s confidence, Lahja had been avoiding himself in the mirror. The idea of his body being something someone might desire made his clothes tight and uncomfortable.

Is it that you don’t want him to kiss you? Nassau asked without using his voice.

No. Lahja thought, unable to lie even in the pseudo-privacy of his own mind.

“His reasons should be better.”

“And what reason did you have for kissing Jahke?”

Lahja gaped at the Prince, but Nassau simply chuckled.

“I saw him in Records this morning. He was all flushed from your encounter, despite what Sitka did to him afterwards.”

“What did Sitka do?” Lahja clamped a hand over his mouth, horrified he’d asked the question out loud.

Unlike our delightful little friend, Nassau purred silently, I do not spread gossip.

“But I’m sure he’ll tell you himself. Or show you. He’s really quite flexible.”

“Nassau!” Lahja wished he could hide himself in the deep hood of his cloak, and for the first time that day, felt naked without it. His pale skin was burning up, and his vision swam at the edges. He could feel the light rising up under his flesh. To his surprise, Nassau took both his hands in his own, and suddenly they were sheltered in the glowing bronze cave of Nassau’s wings.

“Fight it, Lahja. You have to learn to control this.”

“L-l-let go!” the angel stammered. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

“You won’t.” Nassau’s words were firm. “You are a demon, and a powerful one. You will control this. It will not overwhelm you.” Nassau took a long, deep breath, and Lahja copied him automatically. “You will resist.”

Lahja held the Prince’s swirling stormy gaze as they breathed together. When Lahja felt the pressure and light under his skin slacken off, he panted, and half fell into Nassau’s lap. The Prince stroked his hair gently.

“Kiorl desires you.”

“Yes.” Lahja was too exhausted to come up with some half answer which would still allow him to deny the fact. “I know.”

“Do you desire another?”

“No.”

“Then why are his reasons wrong?”

Lahja sat up, and cast his gaze around the room as Nassau refolded his wings neatly against his back. Kiorl was still sitting with the pale snake and his boy, his back to where they sat on the dais.

“It’s just not enough. How can he ask things of me when he doesn’t even know what he needs?”

“Well aren’t you the perceptive one?” Nassau’s smile became broad, as though Lahja hadn’t had a small meltdown only moments earlier. “I have no doubt we will find skills other than your light to make use of. You could give him a chance, Lahja. After all, it won’t kill you.”

“Umm...”

“Go on now. There are people waiting for me.”

Sure enough, another glance around the room revealed several demons waiting at a discreet distance to be beckoned forth by the Prince. Some of them were holding forms.

“Thank you.”

“Stop thanking everyone, Lahja.”

“Sorry.”

“And stop apologizing.”

Lahja opened his mouth, then shut it again and glared at Nassau. The Prince grinned.

“Much better. Oh, and Lahja?”

The angel caught the reliquary, still full, that Nassau tossed to him. He frowned in confusion.

“A strong soul like that will help you make good magic. Eat it.”

“Huh?”

“Ask Kiorl.” Was the only answer he got along with a dismissive wave as Nassau turned his attentions to other matters.

Lahja tucked the soul into his pocket as he skirted his way around the edge of the court room, fully aware he was being watched by several people. He stopped at Kiorl’s chair.

“...so I’m guessing Bir still isn’t talking to you?” Kiorl was asking the pale snake. “Not that I blame him exactly, although he is such a bore!” He turned as the conversation stilled, and Lahja suddenly realised he missed Kiorl’s hopeful smile whenever the big panther looked at him. “Do you need me to walk you back?”

“Yes please.”

“Bye Tua.”

Kiorl shook hands with his companions as he got up, nodded to a few other people, raised a hand in a gesture of parting towards the throne, and they left. Lahja didn’t say anything all the way through the palace, or out under the camp fire stars of hell, until they were back within easy reach of the house.

“Kiorl?”

“Did you and Nassau talk about everything you wanted?” Kiorl didn’t even bother to stop or turn around when he spoke. “You don’t have to tell me. After all, you were both keeping secrets.”

“No we weren’t.”

“Don’t lie to me. I saw him use his wings to keep you from everyone else.”

Lahja glared at the back of Kiorl head, then bent, scooped up a chunk of fallen basalt the size of his fist, and hurled it at the panther. It struck him in the shoulder with a satisfying thud.

“FUCK!”

“I can’t lie!” Lahja snapped.

I hit him.

Again, his inner voice sounded horrified.

He deserved it.

Did he? You’re committing sin all over place today. Violence is wrong.

Well he shouldn’t of…. Lahja bit his lip as his internal train of thought ran out. Kiorl hadn’t done anything which warranted being smacked in the shoulder with a rather large stone. The major demon of his household was staring at him in confusion, but Lahja could already see the rage burning behind his eyes.

“I can’t lie,” Lahja repeated. “You know I can’t. Nassau and I have no secrets. He was shielding everyone else. I almost lost control of my light.” He took a breath. “Again,” he added bitterly.

“But you like him?”

“Nassau? Of course.” Lahja frowned at the big cat, unsure of where his line of questioning was headed. He thought about the soul in his pocket, and what Nassau had said about Kiorl. He felt a funny gnawing sensation he was adequately able to label as guilt deep in the pit of his stomach, and he wondered if Kiorl would learn to forgive his many transgressions.

And suddenly, his inner voice said calmly, you care what he thinks of you.

“Nassau gave me this back.” Lahja offered the other demon a small smile along with the reliquary. “He said we should eat it.” The angel shuffled his feet nervously. He didn’t want Kiorl to interpret his gesture incorrectly, but he wasn’t quite sure of what he wanted either. “Will you share it with me?”

*

Kiorl blinked at the boy, the young demon who had plagued his dreams and waking visions for months. He replayed Lahja’s words in his mind, watching the inflection of his voice and the motion of his lips. Even in his most realistic dreams, he had never thought the fallen angel would ask him such a thing. To eat a soul was a blessing, a pleasure, a rarity. Even Kiorl couldn’t tell just by looking if the soul they’d collected was fit for consumption raw; it was a special skill.

He doesn’t realise what he’s asked. Kiorl told himself sternly. How could he? He doesn’t know sharing a soul is the most intimate of gestures.

Another voice, smaller, shy and quiet, spoke inside the privacy of his skull.

Maybe that’s why Nassau gave it back to him?

He’s still waiting for an answer! Kiorl’s sense of self reminded him. Say something!

“Yes. Thank you.”

Lahja made to open the reliquary, but Kiorl cleared his throat.

“Not out here. Come.”

Kiorl knew the design and inhabitants of the house offered little in the way of privacy. As he walked side by side with Lahja up the grand sweeping staircase, a quick flick of his senses told him no one was up on the roof. It was the best view in the inner circle, the campfires above so close it was almost like you could reach out and touch them. There was a hot, stiff breeze, a taste of ash and wood smoke in the air, and Kiorl felt his muscles go slack as he relaxed. There was nothing quite like being home.

The panther settled onto a chaise-lounge which had been moved to the roof after a particularly forceful coupling session had left rather obvious claw marks in the upper part of the frame, and Kiorl placed his claws into the grooves, and tried to remember who it was he’d been fucking. The memory eluded him. He expected Lahja to take another seat, but the angel settled onto the chaise alongside him, close enough to touch, but without actually coming into contact.

“Kiorl? Ask me something?”

“Lahja?” Kiorl frowned as he watched the young man roll the vessel containing the soul they had stolen around in his hand. Kiorl realised in a flash he had positioned himself so his marked cheek was turned towards Lahja, and he tensed. He wrapped his tail around a leg of the chaise lest it’s twitching make a disturbance.

“I can’t lie, to you or anyone else. Ask me something.”

Kiorl exhaled, and reached out with his glamour, very carefully. It had been a long time since he’d done it, but if he concentrated hard enough, he knew he could make out the shape of the power Lahja held. It was a shock to find it rushing towards him, to discover the angel had let go of control with his words, he was trusting Kiorl not to hurt him. Kiorl swallowed audibly.

“Do you love Nassau?”

“No.”

Kiorl closed his eyes.

“Do you want to be here, with me?”

“Yes.” It was no more than a breath, but Kiorl looked into a pair of electric blue eyes just like his own, and he knew it was the truth.

“I want to kiss you again,” Kiorl admitted

“I know.” Lahja’s smile was fleeting, but the panther knew he hadn’t imagined it.

Kiorl didn’t say anything as he took the reliquary from Lahja’s palm. He shifted his position, and found himself knee to knee with the pale demon. Lahja took his hand, and Kiorl shivered.

“A soul is life, energy, magic… each has its own flavour, its own bond. By sharing, we will experience the same things, be a little more connected than we are now. Are you alright with that?”

There was a moment of indecision, and Kiorl was convinced the boy was going to stand and leave, but Lahja squeezed his hand, and nodded.

“Can you go first?” he asked. “I want to see how it’s done.”

“Alright.”

Kiorl hadn’t had the delight of a fresh soul in years, not since Kiaza had banished himself for an uncomfortably long time. The soul was thick. It was shimmering like oil on the surface of a lake, and it flowed and swirled in patterns which had nothing to do with physics. Kiorl raised the reliquary to his lips, took a breath, and inhaled again through his mouth. It was like eating, but without using teeth or tongue, or any other part of his digestive system. It wasn’t so much like breathing, because the lungs weren’t involved at all either. The soul, fresh, tangy, effervescent and bubbly, flowed directly into his heart, spread through his nerves, and made every single hair of his fur bristle with new energy. One gulp was enough. He held the vessel out to Lahja with a smile, his vision coloured at the edges by the sensational pleasure of the soul he’d eaten.

The angel leant close, close enough for his breath to warm Kiorl’s cheek, and the panther tipped the reliquary. He poured the remainder of the soul into Lahja’s open mouth. Lahja shivered all over, gripped Kiorl’s hand tightly, and as the new demon opened his eyes once more, Kiorl saw unfurl in the space behind him a pair of wings which would have rivalled Nassau’s in all their glory. The vision lasted just a moment, and when Lahja next drew breath, the wings had gone, faded into mere suggestion. Kiorl stared at him.

“Kiorl….”

Kiorl had never known his name to sound so good in another’s voice. Lahja placed his other hand exactly over the white imprints in Kiorl’s fur, and in one blink the angel was mere inches away. Kiorl panted, vibrating with need and desire, and raw unchecked energy. Lahja looked at him like he was seeing him properly for the first time, and Kiorl wanted him desperately.

If you kiss him now, he’ll probably kiss you back, he told himself.

Yeah, his inner voice weighed in, and when he comes down from this high, he’ll never forgive you for taking advantage.

The connection of the soul they’d shared brought them closer, just as he’d known it would. Kiorl could hear Lahja’s heartbeat in his ears, feel the race of his pulse where the boy was now caressing his jaw, taste him in his mouth, just as clearly as if he’d had the smooth flesh under his lips. Lahja was panting, his pupils blown, and Kiorl had no idea how much stronger the feeling must be for the boy who had only owned a body less than a season. Lahja’s lips were fractions away, so close as to be almost touching, but Kiorl resisted.

Everything about the boy was telling him now was the perfect time, and it took all of Kiorl’s self-control to stand, move away, walk across the rooftop and descend to his own room.

But he did.

He should have been proud, but the moment the door was closed behind him, the big panther crumpled to the floor and cried.