CREATURES

by Billie Sue Mosiman

  She stepped onto the rear step they’d made for her small stature on the back of the wagon, drew back the curtain, and saw Nisroc sitting up on the floor, staring at her, tears in his eyes.

  “I can’t believe this,” he said. “It’s so…so wonderful.”

  She climbed in beside him and handed over the bowl of food. “Eat, you need to bolster your strength.”

  He didn’t need to be told twice. He ate like a ravenous dog, hardly chewing before swallowing. When the bowl was empty, he used his fingers to scrub out the residue of stew gravy. “Ummm, so good.”

  “As you see, I live in mean conditions,” she said, coming right to the point of why she’d summoned him.

  “It’s not a palace,” he agreed. When he smiled he was a beautiful creature.

  “You’re to be my father. When around the Others, treat me like your child. Speak to me as an adult guardian. But…” She squinted her eyes and Nisroc lost his smile. “…when we are alone, I won’t tolerate being spoken to without deference. I hope you understand that.”

  “Certainly.”

  “Because I can send you back. If I have to.”

  Now he quaked, his hands taking on a tremor he couldn’t quite control. “I love it here,” he said.

  “I know you do. But the last time here you failed. This time you’ll do exactly as I say or I have no use for you. Understood?”

  He nodded, not trusting his voice.

  “We’re getting out of this stinking place,” she said, beginning to pack the loose clothes in her chest.

  “Where are we going?”

  “To the wharf in London to buy tickets on a ship.”

  “Where to?”

  “The New World--though now they call it the United States of America.”

  “That sounds wonderful.”

  She paused and eyed him. “I’m taking a chance fleeing this soon after your coming. You might not be ready to play your part.”

  “I’m ready!”

  “Who am I?”

  “What? You’re Angelique, Queen of…”

  “No! I’m Angelique, your daughter. A child, Nisroc, I’m just a little girl.”

  “Of course.”

  “Don’t forget. Don’t mess this up for us, Nisroc. You’ll buy the tickets. Here…” She held out a soft bag filled with coins. “There’s enough there for our passage, but not much more. It’s taken me months to save it.”

  “What will we do once we arrive?”

  “Steal, what else? You’re not fit for work, except of the physical kind, and we’re NOT going with a circus, ever again. It’s filthy work, despicable. I hate it. In fact, when we leave I’m opening all the cages and letting the dumb animals free.”

  “Is that wise?” As soon as he’d asked the question he knew he’d made a mistake. He could never question her decisions, not ever.

  She paused in the stuffing of her things into the small chest. She became as still as a snake eyeing prey, eyes unwavering. Her pupils contracted, morphed into pinpoints of darkness. Just the look of her was terrifying.

  “You’re questioning me?”

  He hung his head. “I’m sorry, Angelique.”

  “Damn you and the reason I needed you. If only I hadn’t been trapped in this miserable child’s body!”

  He said nothing and would not look into her eyes.

  “Never mind. Just don’t ask so many questions. Just do what I tell you and we’ll be fine. You’ll gradually feel natural in that body and back in this world. Now help me lift this out of the wagon. It’s time to go.”

  ***

  Nisroc watched from the sidelines as Angelique undid the latches on the cages. It was dark and the only noise came from the wagons where other circus performers readied for their beds and sleep.

  First, the panther leaped to the ground and lumbered to Angelique’s side to lick her hand. The lions growled low in their throats, surprised to be free in the night. Then the monkeys were let out and they immediately scrambled off into the darkness. The elephant was unchained from the iron bar attached to the back of the lion cage. It shuffled off, following the monkeys’ lead. Finally came the white wolf, an albino captured in the far north and sold to the circus. It stood at Angelique’s side as if it would never leave until she gave it a command Nisroc didn’t understand. Then it strode off majestic into the night. When all the cages were open and all the occupants gone, only then did Angelique turn to him and gestured that he lift the little chest to follow her.

  On the way to the wharves Nisroc did not see even one of the freed wild animals. He had no idea where they’d disappeared, but since the circus was on the outskirts of London, he figured they’d headed away from the city rather than toward it.

  He and Angelique found the ship that was bound to leave in the morning for their destination. She had him put the chest down near a shipping crate and then, folding her skirts, she sat cross-legged on the ground. She patted the space next to her and he folded his long legs and sat down. She snuggled under his arm, positioning her head on his wide chest. “Rest a while,” she said. “We’ll get the tickets at sunrise.”

  He sat like a statue, his arm around her little shoulders. He felt her breathing slow then grow regular. She slept. He was too excited to sleep. Someone would have to knock him over the head to make him unconscious for he’d never give into it on his own. Not this night, his first night back on Earth, back in a human body, alive. He listened to the near waters of the sea as it lapped against the ships and pilings of the wharf pilings. He smelled the sharp scent of salt water and wet wood. He stared overhead at the night sky filled with stars. The moon had not yet risen. His thoughts recoiled from that vast overhead emptiness. It was where he had come from and he hoped not to go back there for as long as possible. Look at Angelique. She had carried this little child’s body through three hundred years and still it functioned. It did not grow or age, but it still lived just as any other human body lives. With angelic possession her body could go on for a thousand years. And so could his.

  A thousand years!

  His smile widened and his teeth felt the chill of the night as they were exposed to the slight wind sweeping across his face.

  Just spending these few hours in a body was a gift beyond all measure, but the idea he might be able to live hundreds of years overwhelmed him. Tears stood in his eyes, but he refused to shed them. He brought his gaze down from the night heavens to the little girl’s face resting on his chest. She was a beautiful little thing, her skin dark, almost bronze, her hair raven, her lashes against her cheeks long and black and feathery. She was a small exotic beauty. Her little hand that rested on his midsection was perfect, tiny, unwrinkled, and so utterly beautiful. It was not going to be hard to adore her and follow her wherever she wished to travel. She was…angelic.

  All night long he thought his wandering thoughts and let himself drown in physical sensations, the way only a newborn might. What a glorious night it was, the best of all nights, the ultimate in his experience so far.

  ***

  Nisroc handled the buying of the tickets and getting them settled on the passenger ship bound for a new land. They were given a cabin with twin swinging hammocks and a small porthole looking out on the ocean at sea level. Neither of them suffered anything as pedestrian as seasickness, but it seemed Angelique found the cabin claustrophobic so she insisted they spend most of their time on deck.

  This was a trial to Nisroc since it meant he stay “in character” while on the deck interacting with crew and other passengers. He was “Father.” Angelique was “Dear Daughter” as in, “Dear daughter, please don’t lean so far over the railing, you might fall overboard.” Or “My dear daughter has missed her mother, but the two of us have learned how to make do the best we can.”

  He never failed to miss her silent cues so when on the third day of the long voyage a female child approached them where they sat in deck chairs, he knew there might be trouble. He felt it in the air, felt it on his skin like a cold
cloak laid over him. Angelique stiffened in her chair and she darted a dark look his direction. He thought she hissed in displeasure, but he might only have imagined that.

  The child kept coming until she stood in front of Angelique. She said, “Hi, my name is Daisy. What’s yours?”

  Angelique spoke her name, but as she did so she turned and looked at Nisroc squarely on as if to say DO SOMETHING ABOUT THIS.

  He cleared his throat to get the child’s attention. “Uh, Angelique’s got a sore throat. She doesn’t feel like playing.” Angelique turned back to glare at the girl, but the other child picked up no clues at all.

  “That’s okay, I can just sit down beside you and we can play something easy. See this rock?” Daisy pulled a smooth stone from the pocket of her long skirt. “I found it on the beach weeks ago, during our travels to London. We can play catch with it.”

  “No, uh…” Nisroc began, but was interrupted by Angelique.

  “Sure, here, let me see it.”

  Daisy handed over the favored souvenir to what she hoped would be her friend during the passage. As soon as Angelique had hold of the stone, she drew back her arm and threw it, causing it to arc high in the air and just fall short of making it over the rail into the sea. It slid along the rough boards before halting against the bulwark.

  Daisy jumped up with a cry and ran to retrieve the stone. She turned back, tears in her eyes. “You tried to throw it away,” she said.

  “Did I?” Angelique’s voice was sweet syrupy with sarcasm. “Oh, Father, did I?” She turned to wink at him.

  Nisroc’s lips tightened in disapproval. “You needn’t have done that.”

  “You’re mean,” Daisy said, backing away.

  “Come here and let me show you magic,” Angelique said sweetly.

  Daisy hesitated, unsure of the situation. Maybe she had misjudged the girl, maybe it was just a game.

  “Come on, look here.” Angelique gestured her over. “You’ll really like it. It’s something quite amazing.”

  Daisy came back slowly, chin to chest, obviously on the defense.

  “Let me see your rock again,”

  Daisy shook her head. “You’ll throw it away.”

  “I won’t, I promise. I want to show you something special.”

  Daisy reluctantly gave her the rock.

  Angelique closed her little hand over it and immediately opened it to reveal a tiny baby bird. A featherless thing, blind, beak opening pitifully, little ribbed chest heaving.

  Daisy’s eyes widened and her mouth opened.

  Even Nisroc was stunned. It was obvious Angelique had learned a few tricks during her incarnation.

  “Now watch again,” Angelique said, closing her fingers over the baby bird. She opened her hand quickly and there sat the rock on her palm.

  “How’d you do that?” Daisy came forward quickly, reaching for the rock.

  Angelique closed her fist and Daisy halted, looking up.

  Angelique’s face hardened and her eyes narrowed. “I can do that to you, too, if you don’t go away, little girl. I can turn you into a tiny baby bird or a horny old frog or a long-tailed rat running for cover in the holds of this ship. Your parents will never see you again. You’ll die a grisly death of starvation as a tiny bird, or be thrown overboard as a slimy frog or be crushed by a boot as a marauding rat. NOW GO AWAY AND LEAVE ME ALONE.”

  Daisy stood frozen. She had heard the threat and now seemed to be processing it. Turn her into a bird, a frog, a rat? Looking into Angelique’s eyes convinced her. She stepped back. Her lips trembled. “You can have it. You can have my rock.”

  Then she spun around and ran as hard as she could on the shifting deck to the stairs leading down into the passenger cabins. As the top of her head disappeared below decks, Nisroc turned to Angelique. “Was that necessary? What if she tells her parents and they come complaining about your behavior?”

  Angelique shrugged.

  Nisroc sighed and shifted in his deck chair. He stared out to sea, that endless road of turbulent water and the distant lonely horizon. Puffy clouds drifted over the light blue sky, and the sun stood at its zenith.

  Yes, he was human. He had been granted, by this child, by this Queen of the Fallen, another chance at life. Yes, he was banished from God, cast out into the regions that was nothing and nowhere. But how much was he going to have to pay for the privilege of life on Earth? And how much sorrow and despair was his queen going to bestow on her fellow humans before all was said and done? She was not so much evil as dispassionate. Not so much child as old intelligence. And not so much angel as devil.

  Was he, too, made of the same stuff, since he was one of the Fallen, one of the Seperated? Was he, too, capable of cruelty, avarice, deceit, and corruption? Or more? Murder? Perhaps even murder.

  He did not know. But he suspected he was not the same as Angelique. He was not a Destroyer, that much he knew beyond doubt. He was a sinner, a lost soul, and a condemned being, but he was no Angelique. There was no one in any age, in any realm, like Angelique.

  It was the first time since drawing breath that he questioned his existence in the world. Now he knew it was not always going to be a series of exciting sensations, appreciation of the physical body, and joy of living in the world at large. No, it was going to be…

  He knew now it would be…

  It was going to be…his worst fear. The future felt dark now, full of storm and lightning and destruction. He was going to be a part of it. He was Angelique’s pawn. Would she have really turned the other child into a small, helpless, threatened bird or animal? He knew the answer to that question was yes, absolutely yes. She had cared no more for that child than she would have cared for a spider or an ant. She would have squashed the life from it without hesitation.

  This new life with Angelique was going to be bad.

  It was going to be…bloody, bloody…

  Hell.

  THE END

  Thank you for reading!

  This is a short story based on the characters in the novel, BANISHED. Please look for this new novel on Kindle.com. Find out how Angelique comes into the world and how she lives and prospers through hundreds of years before bringing down Nisroc to help her. Read about their lives together and Nisroc’s eventual abandonment of his angel queen. BANISHED, an original e-book, for just $3.99!

  Table of Contents

  Copyright

  THE SCREAM

  THE LONELY WALK

  ANGELIQUE