Page 36

CHAPTER

THIRTY-ONE

THE WOMAN

M other was waiting for her this time.

As soon as the woman awoke, she was there, somehow, in the dark.

She was in her bed now, but it didn’t matter where she was, any more than it mattered if she took the drugs or not.

Mother found her whenever and wherever she was needed. The woman was important, precious. It was hard to believe Mother could need anything at all, but somehow, in some miraculous way, Mother needed the woman.

Now, she had been awoken from sleep, long after the moon had risen over the earth.

She tried not to yawn, but she couldn’t help it. She had struggled to fall asleep the night before, her mind filled with a mingling of worry and excitement.

“I have disturbed you, dear one,” Mother said. There was no apology in her tone of voice.

The woman searched the room, but Mother had not revealed herself as a serpent tonight.

Often, she preferred just to exist at a more primal level, something disembodied, above and greater than anything in all the earth.

It always filled the woman with awe, even if she did like to see Mother’s dark eyes and glittering scales.

“I spoke to our chosen one today,” the woman said, shaking off the last remnants of her exhaustion. Sleep could wait.

Or maybe it wouldn’t need to.

Perhaps humans did not need to sleep at all once they arrived in the empire of light.

“What did she say?” Mother prompted. The woman could sense something in her tone, almost an impatience. It was always fascinating to note even the slightest hint of imperfection in the godlike being. Not that the woman would ever dare to point it out.

“I spoke to her about our rituals. I was careful. I wanted to tiptoe around the subject until I knew that she wouldn’t balk.”

“So wise, dear,” Mother said. “Always so wise.”

The woman blushed at the compliment, though she didn’t know how much Mother saw of her in the dark, or if she could see at all now, lacking the eyes of her serpent form.

“Her response was better than I could have hoped for, Mother,” the woman said, struggling to keep her voice calm.

“She actually told me about how she had learned of these magics in the past, and the way that every culture knew its power, until the Christians came with their centuries-long campaigns of hate and murder. She is ready to partake. Eager, even.”

“It seems you were right,” Mother said. “She does not sound like Amira. She will not allow the foolishness of shame to stop her from doing what must be done. Good. Very good.”

Without another word, Mother was gone.

The woman was not sure exactly how she knew this, but she did.

She was alone in the dark again, listening to the sound of her own breathing.

She wanted to be happy. Mother was pleased with her, and their chosen one had come.

But she couldn’t shake her worry.

She couldn’t shake her fear that they would be found out, and that all of their enlightenment would be shrouded in shadows once again.

She swallowed hard, forcing her eyes shut, pushing away the fear.

No. She was strong. She would make it.

And if she couldn’t do it for Mother, she would do it for the Professor.

He had started her on this journey, and she had come so far.

She would make him proud.