Idle Hands Ch. 06

"But the way I understand it from my father, is that God is as far below the Almighty as a human is below an angel. Or an angel is below God. Think of it..." she faltered momentarily, as if she was trying to put the concept into a format they could all understand. "Think of it in terms of all of creation. Here, on this planet, there are many religions. God, or Allah," she said, glancing at Yasna, "is the supreme being of the three Abrahamic religions. But we have others. Hinduism. Shinto. Buddhism. The small remnants of the European faiths which were practically wiped out when Christianity became the state religion of Rome, like the old Greek and Norse gods.

"But there are other stars in this galaxy. Untold billions of them. And how many thousands and millions of galaxies are there beyond this one? How many planets are there in the universe, where life has sprung forth, and is struggling towards some unknown purpose?" She swallowed. "I once thought of the Almighty as a general in the army, and God as one of his lieutenants. But now, with all the discoveries that have been made in cosmology in the last century, I think I was thinking too small. Now I think of Him or Her as a farmer in a vast field. Every world a seed She has planted. Every god a tiny little caretaker for that seed."

The silence in the building, broken only by the dull roar of the furnace, seemed suddenly very loud. "And what are we?" Yasna asked in a small voice, almost as if she were afraid of what the answer might be.

"You?" Althea's voice was warm and soothing. Josh thought that if he could, he would wrap it around himself like a blanket on a cold day.

"You are the harvest."

Yasna blinked rapidly, and Josh thought he could see the telltale gleam of tears in her eyes. "Maybe. Then what are you?"

Althea grinned like a shark, pulling the sword-blade out of the forge. It glowed red in the florescent light, and heat poured off of it in an almost visible wave. She set it on a flat block of stone on the workbench, placed there for that very purpose. "Quick, Josh, the hilt."

Moving swiftly, Josh took up the hilt and tang with another set of tongs. As Althea held the blade in place, he delicately slipped the tang inside the hollow at the base of the blade. A pair of quick raps with a mallet sealed the join, and the pommel, hilt, and guard were now fixed seamlessly to the blade itself. Working quickly, Josh lifted the now-complete sword and lowered it carefully into a long, vertical tube at the edge of the workbench. A hot sizzle emerged as the glowing metal was doused and tempered. After a few minutes, he raised it again, and they all gathered close to inspect their handiwork.

Yasna eyed the sword. "Wow, that was quick. Why was there that hole in the blade?"

"That's the tough part," Josh said. "You can't make a sword all out of one piece of bronze. It just doesn't work. So the trick is to make it in two separate pieces. The blade," he said, his hand hovering over the long, tapered piece of metal, "and the hilt." He pointed at the other end.

"When you make the hilt, you need a spike of metal that extends up. Swordsmiths call that the 'tang.' And when you make the blade, you leave a hole in the base. Then, when you need to join them together, you heat the blade, and slide the tang in the hole. When the metal cools, it shrinks, binding the two parts together." His face colored as he realized he was describing an act which was almost sexual in its nature. Althea looked at him, her eyes twinkling, and he could tell she could guess what he was thinking.

"So what do we do now?"

"We wait," Althea said.

"I hate waiting," Yasna sighed. She looked at the golden-haired succubus. "you never said what the succubi were. In your analogy."

"No, I never did, did I?" Althea smiled, though she was careful to keep her expression from becoming too inviting. Since her first night back in her physical form, this was the first time Yasna had given the slightest hint of relaxing in her presence, and she didn't want to scare her away. The woman was so twisted up in her own head where sex was concerned that Althea despaired of untangling the knot. Part of her lusted after Althea with the innocent passion of a schoolgirl. Another part railed against her own desires, seeing in her the epitome of all that was sinful and debased. And a third looked on, torn between the two, knowing intellectually that her love was not evil, but unable emotionally to come to terms with it.

"Think of me," she said, smiling slightly at the idea, "as the badass army ant, protecting the plant. This is the analogy all falls down a bit," she admitted. "I don't think I've ever seen ants guarding a wheatfield, for instance. But that's what I am and what I do. I guard the harvest. I try to make sure you aren't cut down before your time. I don't know what the Almighty has in store for you. But I think you are destined for greatness, no matter how badly God, or Allah, or Jehovah, has managed to stunt your growth."

"When was your first time?" Yasna asked. When Althea looked at her, her eyebrows raised in inquiry, she blushed, the hot blood coloring her dark skin alluringly. "Not that! The first time you had to face one of the demon-spawn."

Althea sighed. "Aleppo."

"In Syria?"

She nodded. "Back then, though, it was part of the Hittite Kingdom. Not a bad place, as things go back then." She blinked as the memory came back. "Over four thousand years? Has it been that long?" Yasna shivered. For a moment, Althea's glorious green eyes had looked inexpressibly old. As if she had felt the weight of every single one of those years on her soul.

She shook herself. "Anyway, there was a string of child murders. Horrible, terrible things. I won't darken this day by describing them. Understand, back then there was no such thing as teenagers. Either you were a child, or you were an adult. And children were treasured beyond price, because so many died young.

"So when the murders began, no one knew why. There was no concept of serial killers then, no TV shows like CSI or Law and Order to give humans an idea about what was happening.

"I stalked her for three days," she said, her voice going cold and distant. "When I finally caught her that night, she had just killed another child. A boy. She had lured him away from his parent's home and gutted him in the marketplace. He was no more than three years old." Her voice was harsh with ancient grief. "Too late. So many times I have been too late. I took my sword and battled her on stones which were slick with that child's blood. And when I cut her head off and sent her foul soul back into the Pit, what thanks did I get? None."

Her smile was bitter. "The good people of Aleppo found me there, covered in the demon-spawn's blood and a dead child at my feet. They drew the only conclusion their minds could. I had killed the child. I barely escaped with my life"

As Althea's tale ended, the building grew quiet. How many times? Yasna wondered. How many times had she fought a battle against evil, only to look forward to doing the same thing again and again, over and over until she was slain? How could any woman keep the capacity for love when her whole life had been a war that could not be won, only endured? One where each momentary victory only bore the bitter reminders of her ultimate defeat?

I would go mad, if it was me, she decided. Mad and raving like some of those poor lunatics you see downtown, off their meds and unable to cope with reality. And she has been doing this for centuries. No, even longer. Millenia. No wonder Rachel says she has walled herself off from love.

Suddenly, with icy clarity, Yasna saw what was in store for Althea and for the rest of the family once the danger of Kincaid had been dealt with. Her eyes narrowed, and she decided to have a long talk with Josh and Rachel the next time opportunity permitted.

"Shoot," Althea said. She was looking at the old clock on the wall. "I suppose I better get ready. I have to go with Alex to school today."

"What?" Yasna asked.

"He's going to be in a play at College of DuPage, starting the day after tomorrow," the succubus explained. "And unless I am mistaken, that is exactly the kind of opportunity that Kincaid is looking for." She smiled grimly. "I've become something of an expert on the demon-spawn over the years. Imagine the pain he would cause Rachel and Josh and Sarah if he cut down Alex before their very eyes. It's the sort of thing they delight in.

"So I'm going with Alex today to watch his rehearsal and scout out the territory. Besides, it's been too long since I've seen a production of Othello."

*****

This is nicer than I thought, Althea observed.

When she and Alex had driven up to Glen Ellyn in his car that morning, she had been prepared for the worst. Not that she had spent too much time in community college theater departments over the years, but she had mentally braced herself for a tiny stage with old, splintery seats and the most primitive of lighting and sound equipment.

Instead, she had found that the McAnich Arts Center was a quite pleasant little theater. Not one which would ever contend with the Globe or Carnegie Hall, but still more than adequate. The stage itself was raised a good dozen feet off the surrounding floor, and there was seating for several hundred people. There was even a balcony in the rear which provided additional seating in the event of a rare overflow crowd.

She wandered about aimlessly, listening to the rehearsal with half an ear, while she scouted out places of ambush, and the best places from which to enter and escape.

If I were Kincaid, how would I attack?

Definitely not from the balcony, she decided quickly, discarding the notion. Kincaid, being a demon-spawn, was almost incapable of self-restraint, and would want to be as close to the action as possible. For a moment she entertained the idea of placing the family in the balcony, the better to protect them from harm. With only one entrance and exit, it could be more easily defended.

But if Kincaid fools me and attacks them, then he would be able to slaughter them all while I made my way up there. Damn it. It's practically impossible to protect Alex on stage and the family in the audience at the same time. I should leave them all at the house. But Rachel would never even consider it. She wouldn't dream of staying home safe when her son is in danger. And neither would Josh, Sarah, or Maria.

Shit.

First things first, Althea. Where will Kincaid attack from? If you can figure that out, then you can plan your defense of Alex and put the family as far from danger as you can at the same time.

"'Zounds, sir, you're robb'd; for shame, put on your gown;
Your heart is burst, you have lost half your soul;
Even now, now, very now, an old black ram
Is tupping your white ewe. Arise, arise;
Awake the snorting citizens with the bell,
Or else the devil will make a grandsire of you:
Arise, I say."

Althea spun in place, her eyes widening. Alex stood on the stage. But it was not the polite, slightly diffident young man she had grown to care for and love. Indeed, the young man who she had plans to take to her bed in the not-so-distant future.

Instead, a sneering, strutting villain was on the stage, dressed in a white shirt covered by a leather vest, with tight black breeches and calf-high boots. Even as he spoke, his voice full of scarcely-veiled contempt, she felt her fists clenching, wanting to deliver a blow to his supremely punchable face.

She shook her head, dragging her mind clear of the veil of fury which had dropped over it. By the Almighty! The boy has talent!

Indeed, he owned the stage, plying his craft with a casual confidence which made him the center of attention no matter where he stood, even as the focus of the scene shifted to other actors. As he moved, Althea's eyes widened in sudden clarity. She knew what would happen with absolute certainty, as if the future had already happened and she was powerless to stop it.

Stagecraft, she thought, and ego. Kincaid will strike for maximum horror. And what better place to do so than on the stage itself, while the play is actually taking place?

He will come in from the wings. Not from the audience. He will make a grand entrance and kill Alex in front of all of us.

She looked at Alex again. All that bright, shining talent, bound up in one fragile young man. Talent enough to bring an audience weeping to its knees or roaring to its feet. Virtually untapped, its loss would be an unspeakable tragedy.

And only her standing between him and a terrible, bloody death.

She shook herself. Stop being so melodramatic! Yes, Alex's death would be a horror. But so would Rachel's. Or Joshua's. Or Yasna's. All seven of the members of what they were all beginning to refer to as "the family," even if they were not all genetically related, had some innate skill which set them apart from the rest. Acting, cooking, healing. A lawyer, an artist, a moral center and a gardener. The real question to be answered is how you are going to stop it.

Her face taut with concentration, Althea Carpenter began to plan.

*****

"Sarah?" The voice was hesitant, and Sarah looked up from her book to find Yasna framed in the doorway. "Can I come in?"

"Sure, Yasna. Come on in." As the older woman entered, Sarah gave her a smile and closed the book on a finger. "What can I do for you?" She frowned suddenly. "And don't take this the wrong way, but why aren't you at work? Don't you have an entire branch of a hospital to be overseeing?"

The doctor gave her a wry smile. "Althea and your mother more or less forbade me to go. They seem to be under the impression that Kincaid is hunting high and low for me, and will chop me into mincemeat if he catches me wandering around unprotected. So I called in sick and delegated my duties to my chief of staff."

"Well, I suppose that makes sense. So what do you think of our resident succubus, anyway?"

Instead of answering the question, the raven-haired doctor peered at her book, apparently trying to read the title from her vantage point. "What are you reading?"

"One of Diana Gabaldon's Outlander books," she replied, noting the evasion but not objecting to it. "I got hooked on the TV show last year, and then Daddy bought me the set for Christmas last year. Well, at least the ones that have been published so far. Apparently there are more to come. I'm not a huge reader like Mom, but I'm working my way through them. And some of the sex scenes are pretty hot."

Yasna smiled, and in response to Sarah's waved invitation, took a seat in her office chair at her desk. "I read all the time when I was a girl. I used to go through books like candy. I'd come home from the library with a big pile, read them all, then go back for more. I don't have much time for it anymore. It made my father so happy that I was getting a good education here in America."

Her face darkened suddenly, as if talking about her father was an unhappy reminder. "Were you two close?" Sarah probed carefully.

"We were. For a long while. We've grown apart quite a bit in the last several years." Taking a deep breath, Yasna explained her unhappy marriage and subsequent divorce and the reason for it in short, terse sentences.

When the recital was over, Sarah blinked. "So...are you worried you might be a lesbian? Because if you've come here for advice about that, you're shopping at the wrong store."

"No. I'm not worried I might be a lesbian. I..." Yasna blushed fiercely, and finished in a stuttering rush that would have made Sarah laugh if her own life hadn't undergone so many fundamental changes in the last few weeks. "I...I'm pretty sure I'm bisexual. I mean, I find women attractive. Althea of course," she sighed, and Sarah nodded agreement. Even she was not completely immune to her allure. "And women like your mother and Maria, as well. But if I could find the right man, someone who is both strong and gentle, like your father, I could see myself being happy with him as well."

Sarah nodded enthusiastic agreement. "Daddy would make you happy in bed. He's a wonderful lover. But so are Alex and Jeremy." She shivered in happy memory, remembering the events of the previous night, when her brother had pleased her over and over again.

She opened her eyes to find Yasna looking at her curiously. "Your life is very strange," she said softly. "I'm not judging you, by the way. I just can't imagine the changes you have gone through. To have three lovers at the same time, two of whom are your own blood? I can't even fathom how that could be possible."

Sarah snorted indelicately. "Tell me about it. When I actually take time to think about it, it seems insane."

"Would you mind explaining how it happened? From your point of view? I've gotten bits and pieces here and there, but not the full tale."

Sarah smiled and stretched out on the bed, putting her book aside. "Well, I guess it all started on a Thursday night, about three weeks ago. Mom was working late at the office, as usual, on a big case. One of the reasons she and Daddy split up in the first place was because she kept working more and more and had less and less time for us.

"Anyway, when she was on her way home, she nearly ran down a guy about Alex's age in the middle of the street. He was some whacko who had tried to summon a succubus. Apparently he had some crazy notion it would help him score with this woman he had the hots for. Instead, he got Althea." She shook her head in sympathy. "Can you imagine being the poor schmuck who made that sort of mistake? Having a personality like Althea's suddenly show up inside your head, pissed as all hell over what you had done?" She shuddered in mock-horror, and Yasna grinned in wry agreement.

"Well, he went more or less insane and got himself hit by a bus, right in front of Mom. When she got out of the car to investigate, Althea had just enough power to transfer her mind into Mom's body. And being who and what she is, it didn't take Althea long to start influencing her. First, she..."

*****

When the story had wound its way down to the present, Yasna shook her head. "If I hadn't seen the things I have over the last few days, I wouldn't believe any of it. But it all makes sense, if you keep an open mind." She leaned back in the chair. "The first hint I had that something out of the ordinary was going on was when I was doing routine tests on Althea. The lab called me up regarding some of the bloodwork I had sent down and accused me of playing a practical joke." She frowned. "As if I would ever do something like that! I finally ended up running the tests myself, just to get them off my back.

"It was incredible." Her face softened as the memory of that moment swept through her, and Sarah smiled. She thought any man or woman (or succubus) who found themselves on the receiving end of that look would be putty in Yasna's hands. "I can understand why the lab thought I was messing them around. Everything was off. Red blood cell count, iron levels, glucose, platelets. None of it made any sense."

"In what way?" Sarah asked, intrigued in spite of her almost complete ignorance about what Yasna was describing.

"Well, the red blood cell count was off the charts." The doctor frowned, furrowed lines marring the smooth skin of her brows. "Ordinarily, red blood cells levels increase with altitude. The higher above sea level that you live, the more blood cells you produce in order to get more oxygen from the lungs to other parts of the body. Our respiratory system is really quite inefficient," she said, her tone making it seem she was almost offended by the poor job natural selection had done. "Humans don't use all the oxygen we take in with each breath.