As the veil between Juun’s domain and Babel closes, those grains disappear, fading as if they were never there in the first place.
With them, the warmth of that desert space disappears too, and I shiver, pulling my jacket more tightly around me.
Eyes tracing my path as I weave through a dozen onlookers, Jack waits for me at that horseshoe-shaped bar that doesn’t make any sense. There’s no bartender, no booze….
Jack reaches out to me, and all thoughts of this weird realm fade as he drags his finger along the line of the mask. “I missed you, wife.”
I catch his finger in my hand, turning to kiss his palm. “I missed you too.”
“Thank you for coming back to me.”
“I promised I would. And I don’t break promises.”
“I’ll remember that.”
“Do.”
“What’s your next task?” He offers me a tall glass and I take it, surprised and pleased that it is only water.
“I have to get Diyo’s flute.”
The faint smile he’d had is now gone.
“I know it’s not going to be easy, but… is there something wrong with Diyo?”
“No. Much like Lako, I imagine the price they will require of us will be paid in flesh.”
“Mine, or yours?” I ask, looking up at him. “You’ve kept yourself away from them for long enough, toying with me is second to getting their hands on you.”
“We are all commodities in this realm, Lily. Not just the mortals who pledge their services to the gods.”
Somehow, I don’t think he includes me in that group this time, either.
But I don’t get the chance to ask.
“I don’t like this.” He plucks at the fabric of my coat.
“Trekking through the godswood looking for a missing bird wasn’t the right place for the dress you gave me.” I’m so glad he doesn’t ask me about that.
“Diyo won’t like it either. Come with me.”
He draws me away, and as soon as we are out of sight of the crowded room, he brushes his hand over my back and the clothes I’d been wearing fall away as gossamer thin fabric slides down my skin.
Black again, but this time the sheer fabric is dotted with gemstones that glitter like stars.
He snaps his fingers and a reflection of myself forms in front of me… not a mirror, just me.
“A toga?” I ask, as he circles behind me and draws a hand down my bare shoulder.
“Diyo likes to play out his dramas. If you aren’t dressed appropriately, he’ll insist on costuming you themself. And then, you’ll wind up in nothing at all. Or near enough to it, you might as well be.”
Not a deal breaker in general, but not something I crave right now.
I like the way he dresses me… I like that he seems to think about what he wants me to wear.
“They won’t like that I’m the one who dressed you, but in that, they can’t complain.” Jack looks me over one more time, and when he turns from me, a similar robe covers over him, blending with his fur as though it’s woven from it.
The clothing hides nothing of either of us.