Hidden Island Chapter 34, part 2 of 4

Hidden Island
Chapter 34, part 2 of 4

"You have an... an Angel bound inside you?" Alexandra's mouth was agape. She felt like she was dreaming.

Even after hearing it from both of them more than once, she couldn't wrap her head around what they were saying. "How are you talking? How come you're the one in control? I've known you for years! How are you still alive?"

"I'm not a Vessel," Caine shrugged.

"Of course you are! If you are host to an angel, you're a Vessel! That's what being a Vessel means!" Alexandra said, flabbergasted.

"That's not all it means, and it's not the only way to do it." Caine sighed. "Turns out, there are better ways to do it than to resign some poor zealot to madness and death."

"I'll not have you blaspheming, Caine," Alexandra admonished him. "Tell me without being insulting."

"Fine, but it'll take longer," Caine snarked. "Have you heard stories of Chimeric people?"

Alexandra's brows knitted in thought. It had been a long time since she had studied soul theory as an Acolyte, but she knew the basics. "Yes.

They are scarce. People that should have been twins but are born with one body instead. Doctors claim one twin absorbs the other in the womb, but that seems far too sinister a description for my taste. From what I understand, sometimes they are born with patches of skin or hair that are different colors or two different eyes.

They usually have strange medical conditions but are otherwise ordinary people. What does that have to do with anything?"

"Right. They're one person even though they have two souls," Caine nodded.

"I believe that is a matter of some debate among the Order of the Chalice," Alexandra corrected. "They seem to have two souls but are so intertwined that it is impossible to separate them. Sometimes, it is difficult to tell where one ends and the other begins, much like their human bodies."

"Whatever," Caine shrugged. "That's not the point. You understand the concept, so can we move on?"

"Very well, continue," Alexandra conceded.

"It's like that. I'm him. He's me," Caine shrugged, struggling to find the words. "We're different people, but we're the same too. Like you said, it's impossible to tell where one ends and the other begins. Most of the time, we're together, but sometimes we separate. Usually, it feels like both.

If we concentrate and meditate, we can thoroughly combine or entirely separate. Divinations force him to separate, and it's not comfortable."

"Normally, you are superimposed, but when I look at you with the Sight, it isolates you both?" Alexandra suggested.

"Yeah," Caine nodded. "Good word for it."

"Like an out-of-body experience?" Alexandra asked, starting to understand.

"Something like that. Yeah, actually. That's a good way to describe it, but there is one big difference. When we separate, I can't see through his eyes anymore." Caine said. "Feels like being half blind and half deaf."

"That is what is happening right now?" Alexandra asked, wanting to be sure."Yeah. It's not much fun," Caine said.

"Why does it happen?" Alexandra asked.

Caine's golden twin answered. "Because of how your Sight interacts with my metaphysical presence."

"Being observed is all it takes to force you to separate?" Alexandra asked.

"More like being observed forces me to pick between being separated and being together. As uncomfortable as separating is, being forced together is worse. Imagine being locked in a trunk with another person, and every sound echoes, and you can't uncross your eyes," Caine explained.

"This is difficult to follow," Alexandra admitted, struggling to conceptualize what they... no- what he was telling her. "How did it happen?"

"What do you know about possession?" Caine asked.

"Which kind? There are several types," Alexandra asked.

"The usual kind," Caine said. "A demon wearing someone like a raincoat."

"Demonic domination," Alexandra tilted her head in thought, surprised at what seemed like a non-sequitur. "It is rare. Usually, it is the final stage of demonic infestation. It is a... parasitism of the soul. After a protracted spiritual battle, the host can no longer resist the demon's presence. The entity enters the host bodily and overrides the host's will. Through that, a possessing entity can use the body like a puppet. However, it is... imprecise. Where the soul can directly interact with its body, a possessor has to command the soul to command the body. Even the most weakened soul tends to fight the invading entity, so full, overriding possession is rare."

"Alright, now what about the other kind?' Caine asked.

"What other kind," Alexandra raised an eyebrow, worried about where these questions were going.

"The willing kind," Caine said.

Alexandra pursed her lips in disapproval. "Diabolism. I'd rather not speak of it, but the short description is, it is when some misguided fool deliberately invites a demon in."

"That's good enough," Caine said, holding a hand. "What would happen if one of those Chimeric kids got possessed?"

Alexandra's mouth opened, but she said nothing for a moment. The whole question was simply bizarre. "They have two souls... so only one would be possessed? I honestly have no idea."

"Last question," Caine said. "Do you know how Holy Vessels work?"

"Of course I do. That was the first thing I..." Alexandra's eyes slowly went wide. I think I understand where you are going. This borders on Heresy."

Caine snorted. "Now, maybe. Sure didn't used to be."

"So you're a Holy Vessel with two souls?" Alexandra didn't believe her own words.

"No," Caine shook her head. "Close enough, though."

"This is... complicated. Why? What is the point? Why would the Magistrate do this?" Alexandra asked.

"What's the point of Holy Vessels?" Caine asked rhetorically.

"To give an Angel a voice. To allow us to speak directly with the most divine servants of the Warden," Alexandra said, not following.

"And the Vessels themselves. What happens to them?" Caine asked.

"They... are martyrs," Alexandra said sadly. "The body and mind are put under tremendous strain by allowing their body to be entered by an angel.

Most can only do it briefly, and all eventually go mad or die."

"That's true of all possession," Caine nodded. "The soul isn't meant to be used that way."

"It isn't possession!" Alexandra snapped. "Being a Vessel is voluntary! No angel would ever force themselves upon someone."

"True," Caine's golden twin said silently.

"You think getting permission changes the toll it takes?" the other Caine asked. "It's still possession, trust me."

"That is blasphemy," Alexandra said flatly.

"Fine. I'll accept that charge to get on with this," Caine sighed. "How about we just say that being a Holy Vessel takes a toll on the mind and body, similar to possession?"

"Fine, I will concede that the physical and mental side effects can be similar," Alexandra said, clearly unhappy with the conversation's direction.

"So again, what would happen if a Chimeric person got possessed?" Caine asked.

"I have no idea," Alexandra shrugged. "I suspect you can tell me."

"Chimeric people are used to having an extra soul," Caine said. "A possessing entity can't just override the body or mind. It becomes a sort of... partnership."

"Symbiosis," Alexandra nodded, following along.

"Good word for it,' Caine agreed. "The point is, Chimeric vessels don't burn out."

"Why have I never heard of this?" Alexandra's face twisted into confusion and disbelief. "This seems like the sort of thing that could change the entire structure of the church."

"It did,' Caine said. "We're pretty damn rare to begin with, and then we had to be found and... indoctrinated."

"Must you?" Alexandra admonished.

Caine looked at her incredulously. "Yeah. I must. This is my fucking life I'm talking about. Your church isn't all hymns and charity work. They have done things that would make any diabolist look like a choir boy."

Alexandra opened her mouth to protest, but Caine cut her off.

"To me, Alexandra. They did horrible shit to me, and I did horrible shit in their name. Because they told me to, don't try to tell me I don't understand. Your Magistrate? Today's church? It's built on a history of blood, and most of it came from people who didn't deserve what happened to them," Caine's expression was fiercer than she'd ever seen, so Alexandra wisely kept her opinions to herself.

"Continue," she said. "About the Chimeric Vessels."

"There were never very many of us," Caine said after a moment to collect himself. "But we sure did change the church. Think of everything that's happened in the last two hundred years. The church went from being one of many religious institutions ministering to the people to the Magistrate."

"And you think that is because of you?" Alexandra asked, skeptical.

"Directly," Caine nodded.

"And there are others like you? How many? Why was I never told?" Alexandra was still grappling with the weight of what Caine had told her and the enormity of the cover-up.

"I think you were; you just didn't know what you were being told," Caine shrugged.

Alexandra gave him a long look. "Speak plainly."

Caine held her eyes and spoke slowly. "There were a hundred of us,"

Alexandra's eyes went wide. "Oh. Oh my."

Will blotted his face and chest dry with his shirt as he returned to the tent he was sharing with Bella. The cold water of the lagoon had been brisk enough to take the sweltering mugginess out of the warm summer night. It was good to feel clean again.

His injured hand throbbed. Keeping the bandages dry while he bathed hadn't been easy. Whatever the doctor put on it helped cut the pain and swelling, but it had worn off. Still, he'd expected worse. Bites never healed comfortably. Bella's healing ritual had eliminated the rope burns and most minor scrapes and bruises, but the bite had been too severe for her magic to do much about. At least the rum he'd drank at the wake dulls the ache.

As he neared the tents, he heard the muffled sounds of a woman's pleasure, just for a moment. A small inhaled gasp and an exhaled moan of pent-up tension. His brows furrowed. He knew that gasp. He also instantly knew the tent next to him, even in the dark. He'd spent countless nights in it. He'd sewed up a few tears in it himself.

He'd been able to mostly ignore the knot of tangled emotions that welled up inside him whenever he dealt with Jack, but unexpectedly finding her tent next to his and hearing the sounds of her passion were too much.

"Fuck," he muttered to himself. Who's idea was it to put their tents together? Was he seriously going to have to listen to her and Quinn going at it? He knew she had more sense than that. She wasn't an exhibitionist at all.

When it came to displays of sexuality, she was practically prudish. They'd discussed it a few times, and he knew she and Bella used to argue about it fairly frequently. Bella used to try to get Jack to show off, but Jack was always adamant. She called it 'decorum."

Will knew that if Jack were going to be having sex, she'd make sure it was as private as possible, so all he could guess was that what she was doing was deliberate. Why would she do that? Was she trying to upset him? She was prone to picking fights sometimes, but this didn't seem like her style.

He stood outside the tents for a minute, trying to process what was happening and how he felt about it. He found himself thankful that the tent was thick enough and the lantern inside low enough that he couldn't make out her silhouette.

He was angry, but he couldn't say why. They'd never been in a relationship. She'd been his friend and partner, and while they'd slept together often, they'd always been very clear about maintaining their independence.

They'd both had other lovers, and neither of them was the jealous type.

So why was he mad now?

He found himself wanting to do something to disrupt her lovemaking, just to be petty, but he gritted his teeth and pushed those thoughts aside. He didn't want to make her pay, especially considering that she wasn't doing anything wrong; he just wanted to not care about it.

Why did he care? What had changed? Was it just the surprise of it? A lot of bitterness and frustration grew as he stood there. That wasn't all, though. Heartache, loss, mourning, and nostalgia were in there, too.

He hadn't seen their tents next to each other like that since they'd been on their first expedition together. They'd spent hours laying next to each other, only the two thin walls of the tent separating them, talking. They'd started as rivals but quickly became partners, friends, and lovers. They'd never needed both their tents since.

Until now.

Seeing the two tents beside each other was a brutal reminder of how much they'd lost. They were practically strangers again. He'd been hoping for reconciliation, but they were both different people now. Was it even possible? She couldn't give him answers, but she had finally given him an apology. Was it enough? Could it ever be enough?

He wanted it to be, but it wasn't enough yet.

Was he jealous? He presumed it was Quinn in there with her. Did that matter?

"Fuck," he repeated, less fiercely this time.

He hated jealousy. It was poison. It never brought anything but pain, and it ran completely against everything he thought love should be. Jealousy was the desire for control. It was the antithesis of love. It always came from wants or expectations that were full of problems.

So what was his problem?

As soon as he asked himself the question, it was apparent and just made him mad at himself.

He wished it was him in there with her.

He rolled his eyes at himself. After so long of trying to shed his feelings for Jack, trying to let go, trying not to care, all it took was hearing her moan once, and suddenly, he was all tangled up again. He wanted her. He hated wanting her. He felt like an idiot.

Then he heard another moan of female pleasure. Lower. Throatier.

Bella.

Was she in Jack's tent? That idea made him a little angry, too. Not really because he felt jealous, but because it made him feel like the rug had been pulled out from under him. Bella was sometimes impulsive and tended to think that sex could solve everything, but this was different. She'd been clear about what she wanted and how she planned to get it. They were on the same page about handling the situation with Jack, or, at least, that's what he'd thought.

He heard Bella moan again and realized it was coming from his tent. Then he heard a muffled laugh. A third woman. One he didn't recognize.

"What the hell?" he muttered.

His frustration and anger subsided as bewilderment took over.

The sounds of pleasure continued from both tents as he stood there in the dark, wondering what was happening. To his surprise, despite the bizarre array of emotions moving through him, he found himself becoming aroused. He adjusted his pants and wondered if he should leave.

"When will he be here?" the third woman asked in a muffled voice.

"Whenever the wake is done, I suppose. Why? Are you anxious or excited?" Bella asked, half-tease, half-worried.

"A bit of both," the woman admitted.

He knew that voice. Her accent was unmistakable. What was Doctor Kalfou doing in his tent?

"Sure, you, that he will be alright with this?" the doctor asked.

"Pretty sure. I know he's attracted to you. That's obvious," Bella teased. "I'll just ask nicely when he shows up."

The doctor laughed. "Quite convincing, you."

Will rubbed his face with his hand. He should have known this was one of Bella's schemes. He started silently laughing despite himself.

"Are you almost ready?" Jack's voice asked from the other tent. "I'm growing rather tired of this waiting."

"We're almost done—just two more lines to draw. We just... got distracted," Bella snickered.

"You have two minutes, and then I'm starting without you," Jack said.

"I love it when she gets bossy," Bella muttered to her companion.

Whatever conflict and anger Will felt had mostly bottled itself back up again. There was too much here to interest him. Hearing Bella and Jack tease each other had been strangely compelling. It was comfortable and familiar and gave him hope for himself. Then there was the mystery of whatever Bella was orchestrating this for.

He wanted to know.

The doctor's involvement was the real clincher. Bella was right. He was very attracted to her and didn't want to let his bizarre tangle of feelings about Jack get in the way of an opportunity to explore that.

Then, the second thought hit. Without anger, he could think about the bigger picture more easily. He could imagine a hundred different ways this situation could become awful. It was precisely the kind of precarious thing his curse was prone to making worse. He wondered if he should walk away and go to sleep on the beach. That would be the safe thing to do.

Bella gasped and giggled again, and Will paused. She was like a compass. Sometimes, following where she pointed was hard, but she always told him the right way.

He took the last few steps toward the tent and pulled back the flap.

"I appreciate this, Mister Kaduska," Janie said as she accepted his hand and sat up from the canvas sack she'd spent the last hour hiding in.

"Oh, my pleasure, my dear. Anything for you, you know that." The prominent merchant grinned. "Besides, any opportunity to be a thorn in the side of the Teach gang is one I'll take."

Janie swung her legs off the table Kaduska had set her down on and let the rest of the canvas bag fall away as she stood up. She looked around. It hadn't been long since she'd been here, but it felt like ages.

The lighthouse smelled simultaneously musty and smokey. Everything was still damp from the torrent of conjured rain her Wards had created, and the scorch marks on the floor where the burning goo had stuck to it were still there.

How long had it been since those pirates had taken her hostage right in this room? She'd lost track. Two weeks? Two lifetimes? It was amazing how quickly things changed.



To be continued