The Ways of the Fay

Lilith's Cloak

A moan of pleasure made Lilith snort with disgust. Danu and Greenman did little to conceal their lovemaking. Averting her eyes from their jungle bed below where they lay, Lilith riveted her eyes to the clearing in the jungle. There, on a knoll, stood the dead Tree of Life, starkly black in contrast to the lush life all around it. Below it, the picked rib cage of the basilisk arched like open jaws of sharp teeth. The couple's heavy breathing quieted. Lilith wiped a tear and slid away from them down the basalt ledge into the leaves of the jungle. She pushed aside draping vines and wide leaves until the jungle opened to the mossy clearing. Vines already grew up the arching rib bones of the basilisk. Strange, they had barely seen death as children, but now death was everywhere, merging seamlessly into the landscape. 

Leaning against the dead tree, she picked at the loose bark. The dead seemed to be her only companions. Even lifeless, the tree gave her comfort. The events leading to the death of the tree turned over and over in her mind like a tumbleweed that stirred into hate for her sister. Eve had taken Adam from her and must have coaxed Adam to kill both the basilisk and the Tree of Life. Eve did it to have Adam to herself, knowing that Adam had liked Lilith's companionship better. Eve was too slow, too sensitive, and too needy for Adam. Her thoughts were interrupted by intimate murmurs from behind the tall ferns. Lilith pushed her ear against the trunk and scraped harder at the dry porous layer with her fingernails. Everything hurt too much. She pushed the world away as her cuticles bled.

The outer bark crumbled to expose a rough inner layer. Picking at a stringy strand of this black inner bark, it separated easily into a fiber strip. She pulled and it peeled up the tree trunk all the way to the top of the broken branch. Lilith picked at another strand, and the long strip separated. The peeling was gratifying and eased her angst. She peeled strand after strand. Flaking away more outer bark, she pulled numerous black fibers from the tree. This mindless picking became obsessive and eventually, she had made what looked like a thick, scraggly lock of hair hanging from where the branch cracked. Running her fingers through the black fibers she felt a welcome sense of peace.

She yanked at the fibers. They seemed strong and didn't break. She went to her bed mat on the edge of the clearing. Since Danu had taken up with Greenman she had slept alone and had moved her mat nearer to the Tree. She picked up a black stone, thick at one end and sharp at the other, and returned to the tree. Putting the stone tool in her mouth she maneuvered up the broken branch, climbing to where the cracked branch splintered but was still attached to the tree. At the top, she leaned on the tree to rest. In the distance, black volcanic mountains smoldered.

Long ago, she'd gone with Adam to that volcanic area where they had found many such sharp stones. Tears blurred her vision. Her heart wanted to go through the same old story of blaming Eve, but the calm she felt from the tree made her more sensible. She knew that Adam had killed to save himself, maybe them all. The basilisk would have eaten one or more of them before it flew up into the sky to give its mating call, calling other basilisks to come to this world. Lilith tried to imagine how different it all could have been - a world of basilisks with humans as their servants. Lilith paused. The air buzzed with insects and flying lizards. She imagined dragons instead of lizards. It would have been a different life and probably not a happy one. She sighed. Either way, Lilith would not have had Adam. There was no use in thinking about him any longer. She shut out the thoughts.

Using the sharp edge of the stone, she sawed aggressively at the fibers. One by one, they fell to the ground. When she climbed down, she gathered up the pile of black fibers and went to the far side of the clearing where her bed mat lay. She would weave them into a new bed mat. At least she could make use of her loss.

Lilith's hands moved surely with her work, tying the strands to sticks, and using a makeshift shuttle of folded sedge grass to weave the uneven, black threads. Unconsciously rocking, her eyes glazed and she hummed a repetitive melody to the beat of her work. Unthinking, she moved in a light trance as her hands guided the strands back and forth again and again and again.