"...and what's in Catt's pocket." Asmodeus's eyes glittered in the thunderstorm light.
(more) Asmodeus said nothing, reached into empty air, and brought a silvery spotted mirror up to my face.
Rather than my own reflection, the mirror held the stop-motion image of a woman trudging through a desert, falling, rising, staring at her hands, shoving glittering glass bottles into her pocket, and slogging through sand once more, legs straining against the velvet weight of a million million grains of earth.
"I want those bottles. Bring her here. Call her."
"Call her. Or don't. But it'll hurt."
"It already does."
His voice shifted down to a purr. "Don't worry, I'm not going to hurt her. She'll be fine. I want the bottles. Look at her." He brandished the mirror again. "She doesn't want those. She's scared. Bring her here, I'll help you both. No war, and you get to come home with me tonight."
"You want the bottles. Alright. But what about 'what's left of me'? What's left that you want?"
"The best part of you." Asmodeus tucked the mirror into an inter-dimensional pocket in the heavy air, wrapped his other arm around my shoulders. "The marrow, you might call it. I'm one of the Seven Deadlies, you know. I'm Lust - you're juicy with it, and I'm hungry."
Hailstones plinked into the churning rivers. On the far bank, Disease's children retreated just behind the tree line. My teeth betrayed me again, opened, and I said her name.
A dark whirlwind is headed straight at me.
I mean directly at me, fast and furious and engraved with my name.
And I mean that literally.
The closer it gets the easier it is to see that yes, there really are florescent letters swirling around the funnel-cloud rushing towar(more)d me.
How the hell do I duck and cover when I'm in the middle of a desert?
I look around desperate for some sort of protection as the whirlwind closes in on me. I can feel the bottled djinn throbbing in my pockets, tiny moans whisper words I can't understand.
"I can't do this alone,"I scream into the darkened sky above me.
It's closer now, about to slam into me if I don't find some way to get out of it's path then...it stops.
Less than a breath away from me, it stops.
Still swirling but swirling in place, the florescent letters arranging themselves into two words.
Caerii's voice, sounding tired and nearly defeated, like she's been pushed so hard she's nearly done spills out of the whirlwind and floats away.
"No! Caerii hold on! Don't let him-"
"Oh child, she's not 'letting' him do anything, what's to be will be. Sit down and rest child, how about a nice cup of tea. It's your favorite, British Blend."
An elegant Tea appears before me with all the trimmings. My mouth waters at the delicacies on an overflowing three-tiered tray as a handsome elderly man bows before me with a flourish.
"Who the fu-"
"Just call me Jann my dear child, sit, rest, you look exhausted."
My eyes grow heavy as he speaks,his voice hypnotizing.
I feel myself fading,sleep sounds so appealing but...
"Can't stop,"I mumble,"she needs me."
"Sleep child. Now."
Thats when the hailstones begin to fall.