The Fire God

Chapter Twenty-Two

Fridays changed from Factoid Friday to Fuck Night Friday. If our love-making spilled into Saturday, then it was Salacious Saturday instead.
Clarissa confided in Aditi that she and I had shared her bed. She disclosed her disappointment with me, that I didn't desire her, that I never initiated our couplings. That my amorousness was expressed by directing her to the bedroom and mounting her. I was a gracious lover, eager to please, but I didn't burn for her.
"I don't mind missionary position, but I thought he would do something more, I don't know. Exotic." She gerumphed. Clarissa said to Aditi, "Is it strange, that I talk to you about sex with your father?"
"I don't understand your words. Talk how you want."
I tried not to eavesdrop, to allow them their privacy, but I did worry that already my decision to have sex with her had destroyed the friendship I had come to value.
Not long after that, Max and Clarissa had a fight. Again, I tried to honor her privacy, but when I heard my name, I couldn't stop my ears.
"I hate seeing you do this to yourself again," Max yelled.
"Maxey, I'm fine."
"He doesn't love you."
I couldn't see Clare's face, but like a paper towel, undoubtedly it crumpled.
"Clare!" He would have grabbed her, forced her to look at him.
"You're wrong."
"He called you ugly."
"He didn't mean it."
Max screamed, "Stop making excuses for him."
The pause was long and my desire to go to her nagged at me.
"Look," Clarissa's voice shook. She would have been hugging herself. "If I can just hold on a little longer. He's getting better."
Again, Max said, "Clare," as if that single syllable held every meaning.
"From the first minute I saw him, back before I even knew him, when Interpol gave us all those photos of Madame Mu and he kept showing up in them, back then when we thought he was her immortal minion, even then I was drawn to him. He called to me. He feels it too."
I touched my cheek, the burn radiating from my skin. A remnant from that night.
She choked on her words. "Every time we go to bed together—"
"I don't need to hear this," Max interrupted.
"Maxey, I can help him."
"Clare."
She was sobbing, but it was muffled. I imagined Max holding her. That was probable. He was her comforter and protector as I had been to Aditi once. I wanted to feel guilt, but I didn't. I did hate myself for a few hours.
*****
The day in the field was particularly grueling. Humidity was high and all but myself dripped with sweat. Syllie was both a slave driver and a jolly Jollington. He forced us into practicing for several hours, but he was forever bringing humor out of us. Mike was more dower than me, never laughed at his made up words or his superhero imaginings. His latest suggestion was Jolly's Justice Juggernauts.
After torpedoing his suggestion, we broke up, headed off the track. Syllie called after us, "Hey, we could be Syllie's Angels. We have two nephilim on the team. It'd be perfect."
Tiffany stopped, put a hand on his fleshy arm. "Look, I have zero problem calling the pansies, Maxey Pad and Beef Dirky, angels, but you're out of your mind if you think I'm going to call Mike an angel. I happen to like my teeth where they are."
Mike growled from several meters away. As a team, we were each heading to the kitchen, our usual ritual. Syllie walked next to me.
He said, "You know, I see myself more like Bosley than Charlie."
"I don't know what you're talking about," I said, breaking from him, seeking out a pan to make suutei tsai.
"Charlie's Angels. It's a TV show from the seventies." Then he faced the group. "Hey, we could be Syllie's Angles."
I put a hand over my face.
"That's so obtuse," Dirk said.
I put the other hand over my face too, started to scrub. Dirk reverted to Khalkha, explained the joke to Aditi. I was embarrassed that she laughed.
"Stop while you're still perpendicular," Tiffany said.
Mike went to Tiffany, rubbed her under her chin like a feline. "Aren't you acute?"
I smirked, merely because Mike had condescended to join in the humor. Or lack there of.
*****
I worked with Tiffany on moving from place to place. She had perfected transporting us to Mongolia, so I forced her to diversify her travel plans. I was fearless about where we would come out when she would rip fabric, so I was very willing to sort through the pinpricks of light, puzzle out where we were. She liked to pretend she was brassy and courageous, but her confidence redoubled when I went with her on these ventures. Clarissa was eager to clap for her when we disappeared, but her lips were taut and her face more pale than usual when I was with her.
Mike had taken an interest in my dragon blade, talons and unicorn horn. Of his own volition, he cut his finger with the talon, toyed with the horn, squinted as if that helped him see.
*****
Aditi cried when she left Syllie's mansion. She begged for my approval. I couldn't give it. I was earnest in my wishes for her happiness, but Dirk would have many years of work before I would accept him.
Clarissa sat with me on the front step of Syllie's mansion after Aditi and Dirk drove off together. She wound her arms through mine.
"Mri, talk to me." She moved her hand up my sleeve to my shoulder. The hiccups of energy had become natural, almost mundane. After I remained silent, she said, "It'll make you feel better."
"Ha!" I pulled out of her grasp. "He's a colorless moron. He has no right to the title Phoenix." I muttered, "Warrior," under my breath. "He would insinuate a relationship with my daughter."
"Mricul," Clarissa said. "Don't call him colorless. It's rude."
I sat my chin on my knees, glared into the horizon, into the sinking sun.
"His hair is blond, his eyes are blue. Same as mine, Mri."
"Not same as yours," I growled. "Little nephilim." I batted my eyes, cleared the tears that were trying to form. I'd never been so ridiculous over one of my children leaving me. Lamentations.
"Your eyes are like prisms," I started. "His eyes are clear. He has no melanin. The way the light reflects, his eyes appear blue. Like water or snow. Water is clear, yet we see blue when we look at it. Snow is clear, but it appears white. Perhaps your eyes are clear too, little nephilim, but they're complex, that's not what I see." I gazed into them, at the crystals, the sides of the geometric figures, the refracting light, the facets and spectrum of colors. Those eyes could process a world of wonder that mere mortals couldn't fathom. How little she was aware of the miraculous creature she was. "The first time I looked into your eyes, they reminded me of the Aegean."
Clarissa stared at me, her lips pale. The rose from her cheeks had evaporated. It woke me from my reverie and I sat back on the steps.
Clarissa hiccuped, then coughed. Then she said, "They're being safe. They're using protection."
The suggestion rankled me. The shiver in my spine was sharp. That had been the least of my concerns. But it should have been more prominent.
I had to get up, started walking. Clarissa came with me. "I don't want to upset you. Dirky is a good guy. Give him a chance."
Syllie had a fountain in his backyard. Just past it was the garden maze and I dove into it, ran my fingers over the hedges. I wandered through the bushes, appreciated the flies and spiders. I was caught by a particularly vibrant yellow one. The color and size made me smile. She was a grace in the world.