main | table of contents The Reflecting Eye Copyright © 2003, S. Y. Affolee 24 Unmasked The guests entered a room with a low-leveled and rounded ceiling. Only a few candles lit the front of the room and part of the sides so that the entire place was bathed in a dark orange glow. At the walls were floor stands with rounded metal containers that held glowing coals of resinous incense. Thick smoke rose into the air clouding the already dim light. The scent was even spicier than the wine that had been served at dinner and it stung the nose. Verity felt her perception waver as if she had entered a dream. An inner voice told her to hold back near the entrance of the room. The floor was scattered with pillows for the guests to kneel on. The guests themselves had quieted to a murmur. As everyone found a seat and settled down, three servants ventured to the head of the room bearing several more stands of white candles so that the area was better lit. She could now see that there was a square table covered in white linen. Some objects were also on the altar, but from the back, she could not tell what they were. Two more servants carried in a large clear glass basin and placed this next to the altar. They then came back with large buckets of water which they poured into the basin. The three servants that had carried the candles put more incense into the wall holders and the air thickened even more. Verity felt constricted as if she were sleeping face down on a pillow. Sheldon walked to the front when the servants finished preparing the scene and bowed toward the guests. “A priest and priestess from the Corvus has agreed to help us host the ceremony tonight. I welcome them and may our Feasting Day service be pleasing to Aunat.” As the host went back to the audience to take his place, two hooded figures walked up to the altar to take their places beside each other. “Tonight, we celebrate the nameless one,” said one of the hooded figures. From the voice, Verity assumed this was the priestess. “The nameless one brings order among the chaos. Something from nothing. Life from death. Tonight, we offer up ourselves to please Aunat.” After a prayer intoned by the other figure, the priest, both of the religious leaders took off their cloaks revealing naked flesh underneath. Verity blinked once, not sure if she was shocked, surprised, or puzzled. Priests and priestesses weren’t supposed to run around naked. It just wasn’t done. What sort of ceremony was this anyway? It was then that she belatedly remembered Aeneus’s warning about strange rituals in the Old Quarter. The priestess, an aging woman with sagging breasts and graying hair waved an arm. “Bring our sacrifice out!” The two servants who had carried in the glass basin came back into the room carrying a pole between them. On the pole was a large black pig tied by its feet. Its frightened squeals shattered through the incense laden air. Only for a moment did Verity think her mind cleared but then the incense came rushing in again, clouding her mind. The servants placed the pig on the altar. “Aunat brings life from death,” repeated the priestess. “From one, we must have the other. May the death of one bring the life of us all.” The priest, a rather hairy man with a large belly took up a blade that glinted in the candlelight. Verity felt her wrists itch. “May Aunat give us life,” the priest said. With a quick swing of his arm, the pig’s squeals were abruptly silenced and the white linen tablecloth turned red. Verity felt nauseous. The priest and priestess dipped their fingers in the growing pool of blood and marked their foreheads and cheeks. They dipped their fingers into the blood again and painted a line starting from their necks to their groins. “From this sacrifice,” said the priestess, “May we have life from Fasting Day to the new year.” The priestess took up the pig’s decapitated head and the priest took up the pig’s body. They dumped the body parts into the basin of water which immediately turned red. Verity held her hand to her mouth. She couldn’t take it any more. She had to get out. “Are you ill?” whispered Gammell. She could only nod and Gammell immediately helped her to her feet. As they slipped through the exit, they could hear the priest saying, “May we each drink to the nameless one’s cyclical return.” She staggered out into the dining room which the servants were busy cleaning up and the stairs to the first floor foyer. She didn’t care if she tripped. For some reason, she just had to get out. Something in the back of her mind, old and bad memories tried to surface. “Why can’t we go to dinner tonight?” she asked him. “I’m busy. I’m working on a big project at work. I promise. We can do dinner this weekend.” But there had been no big project. “Please, it was an accident,” he pleaded on her answering machine as she was busy throwing her possessions into cardboard boxes. “It was a lapse. Please come back to me.” She had picked up the phone then and said, “Sorry, I can’t forgive your lies.” There was a pause and then he said, “Fine.” He then hung up. He didn’t even curse her. He never called back. And she was finally alone. The doorman was not there as she yanked open the door and rushed out into the frigid night air. The wine was still in her system and she could still faintly smell the incense, but most of her mind had cleared. Those memories that she believed been buried the past week had brought back that empty feeling. She felt someone placing her coat over her shoulders. “I didn’t think you would be so affected over the ceremony,” said Gammell. She stared out onto the street lined with small electric lights. No one was out, but she could hear the sounds from the neighboring Feasting Day celebrations. “Do you want to go back?” She turned to look at him. “Do you want to go back?” “I’ve seen it all before.” “I’ll just take the bus back home, thanks.” Gammell put on his own coat. “No, I’ll drive you home.” “But you’ll miss your friend’s ceremony. I’m sure he went through a lot of trouble setting it all up.” “Believe me, he won’t miss me once that whole thing is over.” They walked over the few blocks toward the East Tower. Gammell had parked his car in one of the nearby alleys. As Verity got into the passenger side and leaned back into the seat, she closed her eyes, wanting to calm her racing mind that was trying to overcompensate from the heavy incense at the Feasting Day ritual. As Gammell started the engine, she gave him her address. Wordlessly, he nodded and maneuvered the vehicle down Bilemot and Main Street. She turned her head to look out the window, to observe the dark shapes of buildings passing by in a blur. They finally arrived on her street, Finsen, in front of the row of apartments that she called home. Gammell stopped at the curve, the engine idling. “Well, here we are,” he said. She stayed in her seat, not wanting to go into the house alone. “Verity?” “Do you want to come in for a moment to warm up before heading back home?” She held her breath as she waited for his answer. “All right,” he said. He turned off the car and Verity finally moved, getting out. At the door, she almost dropped her keys. Her fingers felt stiff and she wondered frantically what she was doing. She finally opened the door and walked in to turn on the light. Gammell came in behind her and closed the door. She took off her coat and turned around. “Let me take your coat.” He shrugged out of his coat and handed it to her. Their hands brushed and she felt that charge of skin against skin. For a moment, she froze staring at his hand. “It’s all right,” he said gently. He took the coats from her and tossed them onto the empty table in the foyer. She looked up at him. “I didn’t ask you in just to be friendly.” “I know.” When their lips met, she was opened mouthed, hungry, wanting to devour, wanting to rid herself of that emptiness. He broke the kiss off to take off his mask. He reached up to undo her own mask. It was almost as if they were already bare. He kissed her again and then his mouth moved downward to her jaw and her throat. One of his hands cradled the back of her neck, the other caressed her back. She felt heat wherever he touched her. Dimly, she registered that they were still in the foyer. “Upstairs.” She felt strangely winded as if she had jogged up a steep hill. He trailed her upstairs and when they entered her bedroom, she suddenly found herself against the door. In the moonlight filtering into her room, she saw his eyes glinting, burning onto her skin. His fingers reached the ties of the bodice and began undoing them. “I think you were trying to drive me crazy with that dress the entire evening.” He finished unlacing the bodice and pulled the dress downward. A hand came up touch a breast. The skin to skin contact made her shiver. She felt her heart beating hard. “Where did you get it?” “A small shop in the business district specializing in old-fashioned clothing.” “Interesting.” He took off the jacket of his costume. Verity reached up to undo the tie and pulled off his waistcoat. She unbuttoned his shirt and reached in to touch the muscles of his chest and abdomen which were taunt and expectant. “I didn’t think you liked it.” “Didn’t like it?” He pulled the rest of the dress off her and briefly admired her only in panties and stockings. “You have no idea what went on in my mind when I saw you in it.” She stepped closer to him so that she was pressed against him. She turned her head to breathe in his scent. She unzipped his slacks and touched his arousal. “I can’t believe that people say that women run away from you. Or maybe I’m just crazy myself.” “No, you’re not crazy.” Gammell let himself be guided as she nudged him backwards to the bed. When she pushed him down, he lopped an arm around her waist and brought her sprawling on top of him. She gasped in surprise and then she giggled. “Verity?” “Do you ever laugh, Gammell?” He smiled. “Of course.” With his arm already around her waist, his hand wandered lower to tug off the last barrier between them. “But I don’t think this is exactly the right time to do that.” “Hm.” She nuzzled his neck and lapped at his skin. “That’s too bad. I’d like to hear you. A loud laugh, all the way from the belly.” Her hand reached down to touch his flat stomach. “Yes, from here.” He had ducked his head momentarily to explore the area between her neck and shoulder. “It seems that you like to talk a lot all of a sudden.” “If you don’t want me to talk, just stop me.” He raised his head, and stared at her. “Maybe I will.” In the next second, she found herself flat on her back, legs spread. He moved and he was suddenly inside her, his mouth silencing a surprised exclamation. Her last thought was that perhaps talking, and thinking for that matter, was highly overrated.