Gothic Faery Tales

For the Darker Side of Faery Tales

I thought it would be fun to share some bits and pieces of my forthcoming novel, The Roses of the Moon and find out what people think. It has many faery tale elements woven int the narrative.

>

The Roses of the Moon

Book One
Royal Hungary
1599
Winter

I
Dragon’s Blood
Blood

Increases potency and power

*

“Marcsa Virag, get away from the door!”

The voice struck like a blast of cold wind, blowing me into the shadows below the torchlight. The toes of my pointed shoes caught in the swirling hem of my shirts, tripping me to the floor. I broke my fall with my hands and lay winded for a moment. As I struggled to catch my breath I glanced around for my doll. She was gone. I turned to look back the way I had come and, through a blur of tears, saw my doll’s small, dark shape lying in a wand of firelight between the wall and the door that was cracked open upon the private chambers of the Countess Orzsebet.

>

There was a flicker of silence. I crept forward thinking that I might have time slip back and rescue my doll before anybody noticed, when suddenly the door opened wide, and in that shaft of light, the profile of a long-nosed mask appeared, surrounded by an elaborate circular neck ruff. A glimmer of bright fabric rained down from the mask to the floor and a single hand curled there around the handle of a long whip. The mask slowly turned to face me, its eyeholes stared in my direction, and the frill fanned out around it like the neck feathers of a great bird of prey. When the Countess saw me, she drew swiftly back into the room and out of sight, only to reappear and gaze at me again.

>

Captured in the beams of the Countess’s eyes, I was unable to move, frozen like a mouse crouching in the witch grass waiting for the descending claws. Suddenly she was walking towards me with a smooth, gliding step that reminded me of the small serpents that slithered into my chamber in the night and hid beneath my bed to escape the winter cold. The eyes behind the holes of the mask bore down upon me, baleful and fiery blue.

>

The corridor was colder and darker than ever now. The Countess Orzsebet, my mother, had sucked away all of the heat and light and taken it away into
her personal domain. My doll lay face down like a fragment of torn shadow. Her black hair was tangled. Her dress was draggled and ripped. With my
eyes still fixated upon my mother’s door, I leaned over slowly and picked her up. When I looked at her face I almost dropped her again. Someone had
burned out her eyes!

>

“Marcsa Virag, you have not seen what you think you have seen. Mark me! You do not remember a thing.”

>

Wheeling around, she threw my doll at my feet, floated back to her chamber and shut me out.

>
The corridor was colder and darker than ever now. The Countess Orzsebet, my mother, had sucked away all of the heat and light and taken it away into her personal domain. My doll lay face down like a fragment of torn shadow. Her black hair was tangled. Her dress was draggled and ripped. With my eyes still fixated upon my mother’s door, I leaned over slowly and picked her up. When I looked at her face I almost dropped her again. Someone had burned out her eyes!

>

I held my poor doll to my heart and ran as fast as I could down the rest of the corridor, almost tripping down a flight of wide sloping steps. I sped across the wintry cobbled courtyard where the ice-cold waters in the unicorn fountain were frozen in the air like silver ribbons. I plunged into a shadowy, smoky maze of arches and out again into the dim winter light of the Castle Courtyard that stretched behind the Main Gate to the steps of the Reception Hall. My steps echoed as I raced across the flagstones, scattering a flock of pigeons that flew around me like a storm. Finally I arrived at the tall, heavy doors to my wing of the castle and the guard let me inside. I slowed my pace down the wide corridor to the grand staircase that swept up to the galleries. My legs were heavy as I climbed into the gloom. I had to sit down to catch my breath. One look at my doll told me, more than words, that my mother hated me. I pressed the tip of my tongue against my teeth to calm myself. Above the top step, the landing stretched spaciously to the foot of an enormous tapestry of a beautiful walled garden where ladies danced with hares around a tree in the moonlight.

>

I fixed my gaze on the rich colors of the tapestry and finished my climb up the stairs. One either side of that weaving were two stained glass windows that shone hot for a moment and then dimmed, telling me that the sun had just fallen below the rim of the Carpathian Mountains.

Salome: the Seventh Queen: 16:The Hall of Ishtar

by Aline deWinter

On the crown of a hill, the Rose Palace of Ishtar shone like ivory behind a many towered gate of carnelian and gold. As Salome and her handmaidens  approached, the huge copper doors swung open to a chamber of fire and reflected fire on a floor of mirror-bright basalt.  Two invisible hands touched Salome’s shoulders. Her cloak was gone and she was naked. In the same moment, the Angel dissolved into the effulgent light that billowed about them, carrying the sent of roses, violets, and myrrh.

>

“Etana, hold up the mirror! Hold up the mirror before me and turn it towards the Goddess, for I have been instructed not to look directly at her,” said Salome, trembling with awe as she walked along the passageway that glowed golden with torchlight.

>

Etana leapt ahead of her mistress, holding her torch aloft and the mirror before her face.  Golden Salome looked straight ahead at the long strip of brightness that was the end of the corridor, where she knew that Queen Ishtar, the Lady of Victory, waited. She called for the head of Jokanaan to be carried openly before her so that the Prophet’s eyes should meet those of the Mother of Life.

>

And they entered a vast hall whose walls were carved over every inch with figures of divine gods and goddesses entwined among strange flowers and beasts. A wide lake of golden light shone upon the floor and in the midst where Salome saw the reflection of a golden throne in the midst of a pillar of scintillating flame. And on the throne was a woman of noble stature, and strange, narcotic beauty. Her skin was black over gold, as if she had been burned by the desert sun for a thousand years, her long hair was black entwined with gold, and a crown of gold and pearls and rubies was set upon her head. Her neck was a shining column of obsidian, her eyes were as green as if a far off land, the very Garden of Paradise, shone through them.  The Goddess lips were red, as if stung by the thorns of the roses that adorned her. When she smiled, the fire and the gold grew brighter than before. Her voice was as the wind blowing through the depths of the earth.

“So, you have arrived, Salome, Princess of Judea. You dare to bring Me the head of the Prophet, Jokanaan—-My sworn enemy—-to ask that I bring him back to life.”

>

Salome fell upon her knees, then prostrated herself before the majesty of Ishtar. For the first time in her life, the Princess felt small, as if she did not matter, all of her beauty, her wealth and family was as smoke from one of the mighty Queen’s  torches. Salome gazed at the grandeur enthroned before her reflected in the golden lake where the top of the Goddess’s crown came towards her shimmering like a snake. “Yes, my Lady Ishtar…”

>

The voice blew hot and the smell of roses and honey filled the room on the breath of the Goddess. “You dare to ask Me to bring My enemy back to life. Look at Me, Princess! Why do you follow the example of your servants who lie with their faces on the floor?”

>

Salome reeled, and kept her eyes riveted to the reflection on the lake.  “I mean no disrespect, Majesty. But you are too beautiful to look upon and I fear I might be turned to flame were I to do it.”

>

She was suddenly jarred by the sound of something clattering to the floor, and saw Etana’s torch thrown free and burning in the golden lake. As Salome reached for her maid, her gaze fell upon the mirror that now lay upon the ground like a pool of shining silver. Salome turned away to save herself from the sight of the Glorious Ishtar. Images of the Goddess’s unforgettable splendor swirled through her mind. Salome saw the open casque laying at her side where Aaliyah had dropped it, and met the blazing eyes of Jokannaan.

>

The Prophet’s eyes were dark and staring with a terrible judgment. Yet Salome trembled with a fever that swept through her, igniting her desire like a terrible sickness. How she longed for Jokanaan!

>

“Oh, Holy Queen of All that Lives, I have come such a long way to ask a boon of thee!” She cried never taking her eyes from those of Jokanaan.

>

“Your desire is consuming you body and soul. Even I can feel it. What a little fool you are. What will you exchange for the life of this — Prophet?”  The Goddess spat the name as if it were venomous to her, and the heat of her breath spilled over the face of Jokanaan.

>

Suddenly the Prophet’s head shook, rattling the casquet.  He blinked his eyes as if waking and his gaze fell upon the Forbidden Queen.  A high pitched shriek rose into the air, as streaming with light, glowing like a silver sun, the head of Jokannaan lifted itself into the air.

“What is this abomination that doth stand before me, the prophet of the Lord  who should be in Heaven? The curses of the God most High be upon you Queen of iniquities! Begone!”

>

The lions of the Goddess roared like ovens of fire. Ishtar laughed. And yet again, she laughed. “The prophet finds himself in the wrong place.”

>

“Back! Queen of Babylon! Mock not the chosen of the Lord. Thou hast filled the earth with iniquities, and the cry of thine evil hath come up even to the ears of God!”

>

Salome fell back with a sharp cry as the Prophet’s blood dripped into the pool, spattering it bright red.

>

“Ah, Prophet, have you come back to life so soon?” the Goddess, Ishtar, Lady of Life, said. “What think you of this child, this Princess of Judea?”

>

“Queen of Abominations! Leave me be!” shrieked the Prophet. His eyes started out of his head as he rose higher still.

>

Salome reached up to him. “Jokanaan! Jokanaan! Tell her that you love me, Jokanaan!”

>
“Who is this woman who is looking at me? I will not have her look at me. Wherefore doth she look at me, with her golden eyes, under her gilded eyelids? I know not who she is. I do not desire to know who she is. Bid her begone, It is not to her that I would speak.”

>

Ishtar laughed like the peeling of golden bells. Her eyes flashed at Salome, searing her heart. The Princess’s eyes filled with sudden tears. Her mind whirled and went blank.

>

“Whore! Whore! Get thee behind me daughter of Sodom!” the Prophet said.

>

Slowly, Salome stood up and gazed at the radiant face of Jokanaan. She swooned with longing, and  reached out for him as if to embrace his body.  It was but air.

>

“Please, Jokanaan. Live again! For me… Surely I cannot feel this — ardor — alone?” Then she cried, “Oh, Goddess, at each Gate an article of my attire I gave, even my crown, so that, when I am before you, nothing of what I am shall either be displayed, or concealed. My girdle of birthstones that are the counter of my very life, I gave. I am at your mercy, yet surely here is a great sign that the Prophet may still live… I ask for his release from death, that he be made whole again. Command me, and I shall dance before you the Dance of the Seven Veils.”

>

The Goddess Ishtar’s emerald eyes flashed at Salome so brightly that the startled Princess looked at her. Inwardly, she shuddered and hid her face in her hands.

>

“Do you really think the Prophet desires you, foolish Princess?” The Goddess’s voice sizzled in the air as she whispered it. “Ask me for something else. Ask me for anything else and I will give it thee.”

>

Salome closed her eyes, and reached languorously out to embrace Jokanaan, for she saw him so clearly in her mind — tall, supple as reed, and pure as purest ivory.

>

There was a terrible, anguished cry. “Ah! The wanton one! The harlot! Ah! the daughter of Babylon with her golden eyes and her gilded eyelids! Thus saith the Lord God, Let there come up against her a multitude of men. Let the people take stones and stone her . . .Touch me not. Profane not the temple of the Lord God.”

>

Salome’s eyes flew open. “ Jokanaan! You shall live! Are you not happy?”

>

The Great Ishtar’s voice rang out,” Ask for something else and I will give it thee, Princess of Judea. You mother, Herodias is a devotee of mine. I would gladly prepare a marriage for you. Perhaps a Prince of Syria with hair in coils like grapes, and skin of bronze. Lands and castles I would give you, gardens with a thousand flowers of every hue  and fragrance. Ask for something else, even for immortality if that is what you wish. But do not ask to restore this Prophet who blasphemes Me in the name of his God.”

>

A storm of white light enveloped the lustful Princess. Dazzling white birds swirled around the head of Jokanaan. In the midst the Prophet, now high above her, glared down.  Rage twisted his face, his hair stood on end. His scream was so high and piercing that Salome covered her ears and fell back to the floor, bruising her knees on the flagstones. The Maids cried out, and then murmured something about there not being veils any more.

>

“I say to you again, do not ask me this boon, oh, Princess of Judea.” The rose breath caused the fire to flare up as its liquor soaked the air.

>

“Most High Goddess, I have come too far to turn from my course now,” Salome said. Suddenly her eyes rolled up in her head, her body undulated with feverish longing. “I must possess the love of Jokanaan.”

>
There fire crackled, and the scent of roses wafted heavy on the roaring air.  Salome glanced into the mirror where it lay upon the floor and saw several golden lions circling her, their sinuous bodies gleaming in the silver, one after the other, as they passed. The mirror flashed  in the storm of light, reflecting  the head of Jokannaan  like a strange flower on a stem of blood.

>

The Goddess’s voice hissed above the flames. “You have danced enough, Princess of Judea. You have danced well, though the evil that lives upon your soul has twisted the Rite of the Seven Veils into a mockery.”

>

Salome started up and gazed at the Goddess vexed with sore confusion. “A mockery?”

>

“You shall not dance before Me, the Queen of Heaven who has been buried in the abyss by such as this Prophet, Salome, Princess of Judea. Rather, since it is not Our will that this Prophet shall be resurrected, and I wish at this moment to reduce him to ash, you will be made to pass an ordeal. You will take seven journeys to seven far off lands and dance before seven Kings and seven Queens. Only when you have completed this task, shall the Prophet be brought back to life, only then will you be joined to him in the riot of love you seek, for…” the Goddess smiled secretly and leaned towards Salome. She whispered, “I do believe I see the seeds of great and passionate love buried deep within his soul… for you…Princess…who-will-not-be-denied. Seven journeys to seven lands, Salome, and in the seventh you shall have your wish. Now go! And do not look back, not even for a second.”

End of Part I

Part II of Salome: The Seventh Queen describes Salome journey to dance before the Seven Kings and Queens of seven lands and how she gets lost along the way. Herodias has become Queen of the Witches north of the Mediterranean Sea. What happens to Salome when the she clashes with her mother in the lands of the north?

That is in Part II

I am taking a break for now and may finish this story on the blog or will publish it as a book. I haven’t decided yet…

Art: Gustave Moreau

Some quotes from “Salome” by Oscar Wilde

Salome: The Seventh Queen:15:The Green Angel

by Aline deWinter

The song of the ney, high and wild, floated above the whispers of many serpents deep as the stones below the earth. The Princess was a lighted torch, a flame undulating  to sounds voluptuous, and strange. The music grew louder and faster. She fluttered in the wind, flew and spun about, insensible to the thorns that cut her bare feet. In the desolate garden she was a blood red moon.  Salome fell to the ground and writhed over the broken soil like a snake, rolling over and over, crying out for the living flesh of Jokannaan.

>

“Ahhh, Jokanaan! I am amorous of thy body, Jokanaan! Thy body was white, like the lilies of a field that the mower hath never mowed. Thy body was as white as the snows that lie on the mountains of Judæa, and come down into the valleys. Ah Jokanaan, I must possess thy body.”

>

“Mistress! Mistress!” Etana’s voice cut through the heavy water of the music. “The Sixth Gate is nigh.”

>

Salome rose up on one elbow. “Soon we shall cross the forbidden garden of the Great Goddess —She who shall bring my beloved back to life.”

>

The Sixth Gate was covered with dust and the desert winds blew against it. Salome stood before the high pillars crowned with sphinxes and challenged them to riddle her. The sphinxes only stared, though their eyes glittered.

>

“It is almost time. Are you not rapturous, Jokannaan? The Queen of Heaven shall restore your body and you shall let me touch you, for there is nothing in the world that will deny she who wakes the dead.” Salome’s voice soared over the top of the gate. It was so tall, and so worn with time, her voice merely fell like dust.

>

“Is this the Sixth Gate, oh, Princess?” Alliyah asked breathlessly.

>

“Yes,” Salome said. “Now we enter the Sixth Garden and approach the final Gate to the Kingdom of Ishtar, She Who Rules Over Life and Death.”

>

The whistling desert wind carried the smell of amber and fire as if all the cedars of Lebanon were burning.

>

“Open the gate!” shouted Salome.

>

The sphinxes looked at the sky where the nightjar whirled and lights fluttered in the trees like moths.

>

“Why does the gate not open?” Salome shouted.

>

“ Perhaps it will never open. Oh lets us return home, mistress Salome,” Aaliyah said.

>

“Be quiet. I will have what was promised me.”

>

“Why does the Gate not open? I command this Gate to open. Open, I say. I Salome, Princess of Judea command that you open this Gate!”

>
At that moment a gust of dry wind blew the last of Salome’s veils away and floated them into the air like streaks of fire. Her cloak swirled around her as a chorus of muffled voices vibrated the Gate.

<
“Gatekeeper!” Salome cried. “Open the gate! Open the gate so that I may enter!”

>

Still, the Gate did not open, for it was sealed shut by time and stone and desert winds so that it was no more than an indentation in the rock. Then before her eyes, the wall grew transparent, and the austere figure of an Angel robed in emerald green shone through. The angel looked at Salome without speaking or any sign of greeting.

>

The Princess flew into a rage that even she did not understand.  She shouted at the Angel. “If you do not open the gate, I will smash the door!”

>

“Do not be so violent, Princess,” said Etana.

>

“Yes, Princess, be not angry and disordered in your mind,” Aaliyah said.

>

Salome drew herself up and raised her fist high. “Open this Gate. I will go in. Allow me to enter or I will smash the gate and topple the pillars.”

>

The door continued to dissolve. The Angel gazed at her through a serene golden light around his face. When he spoke, his voice was  deep with the sound of many voices.

>

“There is no need. I have come to announce your arrival to the Most High Queen. Behold, beyond that stretch of sand, on that high hill, is the Gatehouse to the Rose Palace of Queen Ishtar. You will know by the many votaries set afire along the way to the threshold.”

>

“At last,” said Salome. “Lead me to Her.”

>

“First, you must surrender that that girdle of birthstones from your hips, for all women are subject to the Great Goddess, Mistress of Life, Opener of the Womb.”

>

“My birthstones are my life. I give to you my life so that the dead might live again.”

>

Salome removed her girdle of birthstones and gave it to the Angel. And now naked but for her scarlet cloak, she went through the Sixth Gate.

>

The Angel led them forth across the wind swept sands that rose and fell like the waves of the sea. There was a star sitting on the horizon shedding its rays between pale earth and indigo sky, bright as a cluster of diamonds. The Angel kept turning to gaze at the casque that held the prophet’s head, and Salome shuddered with the sudden apprehension of how alike the Angel was to Jokannaan. The casque blazed forth so brightly that Aaliyah complained her hands were burning.

>

“Surely an Angel of God can come back to life,” Salome said softly. “One such Angel, as Jokannaan is, must be immortal after all.”

Salome: The Seventh Queen:14: Rapture

by Aline deWinter

The Fifth Gate loomed high. It was built of gray stones dusted with white, lacy imprints of snowflakes under brown threadbare leaves. A gate like an intricate veil stretched between two pillars upon which two angels stood with wide open wings, whose mouths and hands moved as in exhortation of the small bewildered party below. Behind the gate was a cloud of sparkling whiteness, swirling, full of wind, and cold.

>
The Princess, Salome, gazed at the whiteness and shivered. She indeed wondered at the purple-haired being that had gone through ahead of her, bemused…and where had it gone? She hugged the hot, golden casquet now reveling in its warmth against her skin. How wonderful, gold upon gold, was the treasured casquet; how much more wonderful the living head of Jokanaan!

>
Salome gazed at the freezing whirlwind behind the gate, serene in the certain knowledge that her wishes would be granted and that her life, thenceforth, would be one of endless love with the Prophet. She held the casquet close and saw him standing before her, his body like a shining column of ivory set upon feet of silver, yet now he was silent,  his eyes closed and his head turned away from the golden Princess, Salome.

>

“Thy voice was a censer that scattered strange perfumes, and when I looked on thee I heard a strange music. Ah! wherefore didst thou not look at me, Iokanaan? With the cloak of thine hands, and with the cloak of thy blasphemies thou didst hide thy face. Thou didst put upon thine eyes the covering of him who would see his God. Well, thou hast seen thy God, Iokanaan, but me, me, thou didst never see. If thou hadst seen me thou hadst loved me. I saw thee, and I loved thee. Oh, how I loved thee! I love thee yet, Iokanaan. I love only thee.”

>

Behind the gate, the cloud of snow solidified into the shape of a tall figure in a white robe. The face that formed in the depths of the white cowl was beautiful, its eyes piercing and as blue as water under a layer of ice. His robes sparkled about him like the skin of a white swan, soft and dusted with snow. He smelled of spicy things, aromatic as the cedars of Lebanon.

>

“Open the gate and let me in!” Salome shouted, holding the casquet high and lunging forward with passionate fury.  “I am the Princess of Judea. If you do not let me in, I shall smash the gate!”

>

Darkness fell and there was a scraping sound as of wind sweeping branches over the ground. Overcome with the relentless, seething desire within her, Salome stepped forward and cried out, “Let me in, oh Gatekeeper. I would have an audience with the Great Goddess, Ishtar, Queen of All That Lives.”

>

The white wind blew across the entrance on the other side of the gate, obscuring the Gatekeeper. His eyes burned through the crystalline cloud in echoing silence.

>

“Oh, Gatekeeper, open the gate! Open the gate so that I may enter!” Salome cried again.

>

“Let her pass!” The voice was not that of the gatekeeper, but came as if from the trees, or from the cloud. It was a feminine voice, deep, throaty, and insinuating. “Only take the girdle of birthstones from her waist. They belong to me.”

>

“What? Not that! Surly my birth stones are the very pattern and design of my life!” The Princess cried, clutching with one hand the string of heavy jewels at her hips.”Why must you take the girdle of birthstones from my hips?”

>

“Thus are the rules of the Mistress of the Abyss,” the disembodied voice whispered. In an instant, the girdle was torn from Salome’s hips and floated through the air to combust in sudden fire. The air was tinged with the scent of tuberose.

>

“Ah!” she cried. “She who gives birth has all power over life.”

>

“A life for a life,” said Etana hiding her face behind her hand.

>
Aaliyah  bent low as if frightened out of her senses. The Gatekeeper slid back from the portal with a sound like wet, dragging draperies, leaving the entrance empty of all but a dim, crimson glow like sunlight setting behind the winter trees on the mountain of Jerusalem.

>

Again, there came flash of purple and the smell of tuberose, brief and unsettling.

>

The gate swung open and Salome stepped onto a path that meandered through a garden  gone to seed and ruin. Nothing grew out of the pallid soil but sticks and tangled thorns and branches. The ground was dusted with frost that blew about in little eddies, cold against her skin.  Hyenas laughed in the dark and scuttled about, while wide-winged birds floated down from jagged ruined walls and stunted, withered trees. Graves leaned back as if they been blown against by ages of wind, or been turned to stone by fear. The Maids cried with unbearable melancholy, wrapping their arms around themselves for warmth and complaining that they could no longer carry the mirror or the torch, though Aaliyah regretted giving up the warm golden casque of Jokannaan. Salome looked around in a vague hope that her  musicians had followed at a distance,  but there was nothing but an empty white lane disappearing between two rows of gnarled, black, leafless trees.

>

“There shall be no music, Princess!” cried Etana. “For the musicians have fled.”

>

“Ayiii!” cried Aaliyah. “For the quran player was my friend.”

>

“No mind. No Mind,” Salome said as she moved forward in a fever of obsession and desire. Stumbling over the ground, she ignored the the thorns that tore at her feet, for the fire that consumed her girdle of birthstones penetrated her brain, and burned there,  moving down to her throat and into her heart, erasing all pain and even her presence of mind. Now it settled in her root, and burned there hotter still.

>

“This place is cold but I am hot! Hotter than the sun itself,” she cried. “Hotter than love, hotter than desire. Oh, Jokannaan, how close we are to days of ecstasy that will last forever! For I am sure to have found the key to immortality.”

>

Unable to bear the absence of her beloved any longer, the Princess opened the casquet and lifted out the shining head of the Jokanaan.

Salome raced back to her serving maids.
>

The hyenas shrieked and the wheat began to ruffle as the invisible pack of wild dogs came after her. Aaliyah and Etana turned around frantically calling Salome’s name in all directions, their voices drowned out by the music and the cries and the barking of the hyenas.

>

Something cracked like the sound  of bones snapping. Salome was buffeted by gusts of strong wind that blew her cloak up over her face.

>

An eerie voice floated on the wind, a woman’s voice, calling.

>

“ Life, life, life, life…”

>

The hyenas laughed and the wind carried the sounds like a whirlwind around the Princess and her maids. Salome pulled her cloak out of her eyes and watched as the woman in the field turned and walked to the left, stopped, smiled at Salome and walked on again. She was followed by an inky black shadow that slithered over the wheat sheaves like a snake.

>

“ We must follow her,” said Salome. “Come! We are guided out of this place.”

>

“Mistress! I can’t touch the casque,“ cried Aaliyah. “It burns me and oh! He cries so!”

>

Salome went to where the casque was laid upon the ground, glowing golden as if the sun had fallen into the field of aurum. There were lilies too, Salome swore that there were lilies white as death standing among the wheat shafts, around the Prophet’s little house. Loud dark sobs echoed  mournfully inside of it. When Salome opened the lid the eyes of Prophet looked up at her, blazing with holy fire.

>

“Back! Daughter of Babylon! Come not near the chosen of the Lord. Thy mother hath filled the earth with the wine of her iniquities, and the cry of her sinning hath come up even to the ears of God.”

Salome froze. Had her prayer been fulfilled? The sight of the Prophet speaking through the gates of death was as if a very Angel had descended, a  Seraph from behind the very throne of God. Her eyes swimming with tears, Salome reached for her beloved Prophet’s head. “Oh how I love you, Jokanaan. For me you have come back to life! Oh, how powerful is love that it may conquer death! I know you have come for me, Jokanaan. I am very grateful you have come to me.”

>

“Back, daughter of Sodom! Touch me not. Profane not the temple of the Lord God. Ah! The wanton one! The harlot! Ah! the daughter of Babylon with her golden eyes and her gilded eyelids! Thus saith the Lord God, Let there come up against her a multitude of men. Let the people take stones and stone her . . . ”

>

“Singing! They are singing!” Aaliyah cried looking up from her cowering. “It is Chorus of the Angels of the Lord. The Prophet summons the powers of God most high. Can you hear the music of God, Princess Salome?”

>

“Mistress! The guide is gone far before us. If we do not follow we shall surely be lost,” Etana shouted pointing into the distance.

>

“Give me the casquet, Aaliyah. I will carry the head of Jokanaan,“ Salome said moving the trembling Aaliyah aside. “Now I have you my beloved Jonakanaan. You are with me now. Now. Oh how your eyes do shine—-they shine like pattens of bright silver fallen from the hand of the Queen of Syria into the well of the Holy Sanctuary. Thine eyes burn like torches in a tapestry of Tyre. They shine like the breath of dragons in the black caverns of Egypt. Speak to me again.”

>

“Mistress, we must not stay,” cried Etana. “Surely if we stay we shall be lost.”

>

“Yes, Princess Salome. Listen to Etana. It is unwise to stay. The path to the Fifth Gate is being shown and will not be shown much longer.”

>

Salome leaned in to kiss the lips of Jokanaan. He spat at her! She recoiled like a cat.

>

“Back! daughter of Babylon! By woman came evil into the world. Speak not to me. I will not listen to thee. I listen but to the voice of the Lord God.”

>

The golden casquet did burn Salome’s flesh as she closed the the Prophet’s rage inside, but she didn’t care. Rather she reveled in this small discomfort for the sake of her love. Even though she could not bear his cries, that screamed and pounded the sides of the casque so that she could hardly hold it, she embraced it as she would her lover, and endured.

>

“You shall come back to life” she murmured to herself. “You shall come back to life for me, Jokanaan, for I desire nothing on the earth more than you. There is nothing in the world more beautiful than you.”

>

The  woman moving through the field had left a ribbon of dark slime along the ground. Salome followed it, all the while in a light trance, dreaming of her beloved’s ivory brow. Suddenly a vision of the woman’s face appeared to Salome’s mind’s eye: skin pale and waxy as a calla lily, hair like a cloud of purple dye, and a mouth so red, it seemed to drip with blood.

>

The music died down to a thin wail as the woman, now slim as a snake, slithered through the Fifth Gate.
>

“Princess, who was that?” Etana asked. “She had something about her like Herod’s Queen.”

>

Salome turned to her Maidservant and raise an eyebrow. “It is not possible.”

>

Aaliyah sighed a low, echoing sigh. “I do not think we should follow any more. Perhaps it is a trap.”

>

“Again!” Salome said impatiently. “Always!” she gave Aaliyah a hard look. “Go back then, if you must.”

>

Aaliyah gazed at her feet and blushed for shame.

Salome: The Seventh Queen: 12  : The Hyenas

by Aline deWinter

The wheat field glowed and bent in a slight breeze. They walked on for a while longer. Nothing changed.
>

“How long have we been here?” Aaliyah sighed falling to the ground in exhaustion.
>

“Give me the head of Jokannaan,” Salome whispered sharply to Aaliyah. “Give him to me now.”
>

“The head, indeed. A mere fraction of a man, Mistress. How can he be brought back to life?” Aaliyah fretted, pushing the casque over the ground toward Salome.
>

“What you do not see, what I do see, is Jokanaan’s  immortal soul.” said Salome holding the Prophet’s head in the golden field that spread around around him like a nimbus of golden light. “He comes to me in the night like a moonbeam walking over a field of lilies, like a shaft of silver; his flesh is cold, cold as ivory.  His body is like the lilies of the field after the mower hath mowed. The roses in the garden of the Queen of Arabia are not so white as his body when he comes thus unto me. His hair is as black as the long black nights when the moon hides her face, when the stars are afraid. The silence of the forest is not so black. His mouth is like a band of scarlet on a tower of ivory. It is like a pomegranate cut in twain with a knife of ivory. The pomegranate flowers that blossom in the gardens of Tyre, and are redder than roses are not so red. the beauty of his flesh shall be made more glorious by the terrible command of Ishtar, Queen of Heaven and Mother of All of Life.”
>

As she spoke, Salome looked at her maids, from one to the other, searching for some semblance of a soul in their frightened faces. She looked around at the endless wheat field, down at her scarlet cloak flowing over the stalks like a wake of blood, at her jeweled feet sparkling on the golden ground, and smiled.
>

Etana met her eyes. “I too love a man. In Judea. A soldier. And now I shall never see him again. My spirit goes to him in the night. I wonder if he senses me…”
>

“You? Love?” said Salome astonished. “But you are a slave, Etana. Surely you cannot compare the  profane lust of a slave to the divine passion of a Princess before whom the King of Kings has scattered jewels, to whom whole legions must bow? Your love can only as that of the ass to the mule, the ewe to the filthy goat with its keyhole eyes. What can you know of love, Etana?”
>

Etana closed her eyes and seemed to drift away.
>

Salome knelt down and caressed the casquet.
>

“Oh, Jokannaan.  Again you shall stand like a tower of ivory, shining white like the snows that lie on the mountains of Judea.  Your eyes gleam like dark emeralds, and your hair hang like clusters of black grapes. like the cluster of black grapes that hang from the vine trees of Edom in the land of he Edomites. Your lips shall be like redder than than the feet of him who cometh from the forest where he hath slain a lion , and seen gilded tigers. Its is like the bow of the King of the Persians that is painted with vermillion…There is nothing in the world so red as thy mouth…Suffer me to kiss they mouth.”
>

“You’re mad,” Aaliyah whispered so softly she thought the Princess did not hear her.
>

“What is that?”
>

The cry of a hyena echoed across the field.
“Oh,” Aaliyah whispered rising to her feet. “Now we are pursued by wild animals.”
>

The cry again. A chorus of cries  broke forth, as of a pack of hyenas hidden in the wheat. Wild, shrieking music, as of bagpipes and drums began to play, and human cries rang out as of a soul in torment.
>

“Are my music makers with us after all?” Salome cried glancing around, looking for her players in the field. “I knew they would not desert me!”
>

The serving maids glanced around as well. Aaliyah covered her ears with her hands.
“Oh, what is happening?” she cried.
>

“This is not ordinary music!” cried Etana. “It is the singing of some sorceress over her vessel of abominations.”
>
The music was all around them. Salome sensed that the tormented cries were very close to her, rising out of the earth. She scanned the monotonous golden horizon like a lioness looking for prey. Where are they? She strode forwards, in the direction of the sound, attentive, her eyes dazzled by the brightness of the land against the sky.
>

High pitched laughter riffled through the wheat. Hyenas! Salome screamed. Surely her fate was not to be dragged down and torn by powerful jaws.
>
Suddenly the waves of wheat undulated with the tide of trotting, scrawny, humped, hackle-raised backs;  the  still air reverberated with wild screams as the Dogs of Chaos raced  in for the kill.  Salome spun around  fixed on the sight of  a tall woman standing in the field gazing at her from over the top of the sheaves!

>
Salome fell back with a groan. The woman’s face was stiff as a mask, her head was large and her face round, on her head was a serpentine crown of wheat withys. When she smiled, and then her tongue hung out and her large eyes blinked at Salome as if she knew her.  The woman suddenly rose higher to reveal large, copious breasts and a full round belly.

<

She began walking in Salome’s direction.

Salome: The Seventh Queen: 11: The Golden Land

by Aline deWinter

<

On the other side of the lake the Fourth Gate towered over them. Carved of black obsidian over-laid with gold, it was, incised with symbols of life in death barely visible under silver dust and matted yellow vines. A tall, wraith cloaked in the black of burning embers, blocked the entrance with a shield of smoldering torches. Salome’s serving maids clung to her cloak, gazing up at the burning guardian, and then further up at the two gatehouse towers, high and pointed, one on each side of the door.
<

‘Oh, Mistress, let us go back!” cried Aaliyah. “For over the door and bolt is spread the dust of the dead.”
<

“Yes, we must,” Etana said. “For if we go further, we shall never come out again.”
<

The place in which they stood was so far below the rim of the earth that, when Salome turned her head to look back along the way they had come,  she saw only a small circle of sky. Aaliyah and Etana followed her gaze and, clinging to each other, cried out for pity. They hung their heads and their arms drooped as if they were bowed to the earth under great burdens. Etana could barely hold the torch upright and the mirror lay face up upon the ground, flashing Salome’s golden eyes back to her, wild and hard. Aaliyah sat down and leaned upon the casque, the broken roses scattered at her feet.
>

“We must go on,” said Salome grinning at the maids helpless in their fear. “I am not afraid! Let us see the next garden we must cross. It may be very unusual, or perhaps beautiful. O Guardian! Open the gate so that I may enter!”
>

The gatekeeper’s cold eyes glinted, and a reptilian smile stretched across his face half hidden in the shadows of his cloak. His thin black hand reached for her jeweled bracelets and snatched them off.  Salome watched in dismay as the precious circlets vanished into his shadowy form.
>

“Ah, why do you take the bracelets from my arms?” Salome cried, pulling back with a hiss.
>

The voice of the wraith echoed around the stones of the portal like the voices of the many. “Thus are the rules of the Mistress of the Abyss. Now you may enter, my Princess.”
>

“Oh, let us not pass through, Mistress!” cried Aaliyah grasping Salome’s slender ankles. “Surely we shall regret it.”
>

“The dead shall rise up and eat the living so that the dead shall outnumber the living,” Etana whispered. “Thus it was said of old, and so it is.”
>

“The dead shall always outnumber the living,” said Salome. “Now we shall bring death to its knees, for love is more powerful than death.”
>

Aaliyah staggered up. Her doe eyes wide, she lost her balance briefly. “How can it be, Mistress?”
>

“She is the Goddess of life and death. She is the womb of all of nature. She it is who determines our span upon the earth. She who is the Origin of Life must be powerful in restoring life. That is what I was promised of her Priestess in the Forbidden Temple. Forbidden because Herod does not wish us to know these things.”
>

“How do you know it, Princess?” Aaliyah asked.
>

“My mother, Queen Herodias, knows it, and I learned it at her breast.”
>

Etana stood quietly, expressionless. “We are beyond all gates now. Indeed we shall never return to Judea.”
>

“Come. Where are my musicians? Come!” Salome cried. “Play something triumphant and brave as we enter this gate to Ishtar’s Realm!”
>

The musicians began abruptly, playing a loud, shrieking, rhythmic dance that would drive a team of donkeys forward.
>

The gate was opened and the smell of fire and ash poured forth. A golden light streamed through, as of the sun at midday. The Princess of Judea, and her little entourage, stepped out into a field of tall, waving wheat that spread like a golden ocean to the far horizon. But there was no solar orb shining the darkness of the Netherworld sky, but rather the wheat field itself shone brightly from within.

The Princess passed through the garden silently, commanding Aaliyah to hold the casquet high. As she walked forward, her scarlet cloak clung to the wheat shafts, trailing along the top like a wake of blood. She moved in straight towards the horizon where waves of bright gold met the dimness of the sky. There were no marking stones to guide her, only currents of dazzling gold rippling away forever. Occasionally a dark bird flew up, startled, at the approach of Salome’s delicate feet.
<
“Oh, Mistress, we are lost!” Aaliyah cried. “Never shall we find our way out of this field.”
>

“Shhh!” Etana breathed sharply. “This light is unnatural. It rises up from below us, feeding the wheat with infernal fire. It is food that cannot be harvested, cannot be eaten, for its roots are fed by demons in the underworld without the celestial quickening of God.”
>

Salome stopped and looked at the horizon, hoping to see a high tower indicating the next gate. Nothing met her eye. There were only a currents of  waving wheat sheaves and the luminous dark blue of the sky. Yet still, the gate must be there, ahead, not close, yet not too far away. Suddenly, she did know whether to trust or distrust the promise of She-Who-Resides-Within, but she  had to move forward. Retreat would admit a dishonorable lack of faith.
>

“Lost. At last we are lost, Mistress. It was a curse, a game, that the Priestess has played upon you. She wished vengeance on the Tetrarch’s house for banishing her and her Gods,” said Aaliyah.
>
“Silence!” Salome cried. “I know what I was promised…”
>
“By whom?” shouted Aaliyah. “You have not even found the Goddess yet…”
>

Salome turned to her serving maid, eyes blazing, her voice lashing as a whip.
>

“Insolence! If you don’t believe, perhaps that is why we are lost here. Your constant lack of faith has led us astray so that we are tested by the Goddess.”
>

“There was but one gate to enter, Princess,” said Etana. “We had no other choice. Now we are here in this featureless land. And how will you dance without music?”
>

“What?” Salome turned and saw indeed, that she and her women were the only ones standing in the field. “Where are my musicians?”
<
>

“They fled!” cried Aaliyah. “They were clever enough to turn back!”

>

“Enough!” cried Salome. She was worried. How would she dance without music? Was she being thwarted in attaining her desire after all?
>

Etana turned around and looked back where a row of wheat stalks had been flattened by their feet.
>
“There is the way back,” she said. “Perhaps we too should retreat.”
>

“No!” cried Salome. “I will continue!”
>

“This is worse than the desert,” said Aaliyah. “For here we are alone.”

To be continued…

Salome: The Seventh Queen :9: Garden of Paradise

by Aline deWinter

A terrible scream rose up, and the earth shook with its reverberations.

<

Gazing into the Prophet’s wide eyes, Salome said to him:
“As I was the instrument of your death, now I shall  be she who brings you back to life, Jokannaan. What was take from you shall be returned to you one-hundred fold. This shall be because I, Salome, Princess of Judea, Will it to be so, This is the power of the great love I have for thee. And the mystery of love is greater than the mystery of death.”

<

Again she kissed the prophet’s lips and was about to place his radiant head back into the casquet in the hands of her maidservant,  Aaliyah, when she changed her mind.
<

Holding the head of her Beloved high, Salome  placed her tiny foot onto the first step that led down into the Abyss.  She felt giddy as she stood there, on that great height.  Terrace after terrace of flowering gardens, held  to the edges of crags by crumbling walls, dropped away into oblivion.
<

As the small procession went down the stairs, the music of the  flute, the pulsing of the drum, and the deep qanun moaning sent shivers down Salome’s spine. She gazed into the Prophet’s eyes.
<
“How I love you, Jokannaan! Now I shall dance before the Great Goddess who will give you back your back to life.”
<

Etana carried the sputtering torch and faced the mirror outwards, while Aaliyah stumbled behind her with the casket. They whispered between them while they looked at their Mistress from the tails of their eyes. Salome ignored them though she knew they thought her mad.
<

The further down they went, the darker it grew. Owls hooted and the jackal cried.
<

They came to a jungle of blooming roses; trailing jasmine and flowering fruit trees sacred to the Goddess of Love. Flowers scented the air as sweet as honey. But there was a disturbing undertow of darkness that made each beautiful thing seem like a thin veil floating on the surface of corrupt and stagnant water. In sudden apprehension, Salome quickly placed the head of Jokannaan back into the jeweled casket and closed it with a silver key. Aaliyah’s arms dropped with the sudden weight of it and she moaned aloud.
<
“He must be kept from this,” she whispered. “For something unclean abideth here.”
<

The white portal of the Second Gate shone like alabaster through the dense leaves of the garden. There was a flash of scarlet. The Guardian waited behind the gate, barely visible, but pulsating with watchfulness.
<
Salome stood at the gate. It towered above her, higher than she could see.  Its walls were sculpted with obscure designs of serpents and roses and grails.  On the keystone, the face as lovely as Medusa looked down with terrible all-seeing eyes.
<
As Salome was about to command entry, two shining hands reached out through the gate  and tore the diamonds from her ears.
<
“Why did you take the pendents from my ears?” she cried in pain.
<

“Now you may enter, my Lady. Thus are the rules of the Mistress of the Abyss.”
<

Chastened, Salome bowed her head low and slithered into the portico. A hot mist  that filled the entrance to the Dark Kingdom wafted through the bars of the gate, touching Salome’s skin with tongues of fire. The Guardian dissolved until no more than a stain of red light remained, and the gate creaked open. Princess stepped over the threshold and beckoned her quaking entourage to follow.
<

They entered a wood of  flowers with waxy white blossoms and dark purple leaves growing under straight, slender trees with leaves of bright flame. On the high branches of the trees, demons perched, shifting, shadowy, human-shaped, and clothed with wings. They flew up into the dusky sky as Salome and her retinue passed, watching them with pale eyes, their wings now open, now closed along their backs.
<

“What are these that hover and stare?” Salome asked. When she received no answer she turned around and saw Aaliyah shaking so that she could barley hold the precious casque aloft.
<

“Oh, Princess… it is said that here, in the Forbidden Lands, that the inhabitants are clothed like birds, with wings for garments. I see that it is so,” whispered Aaliyah.
<

“And they eat clay for bread and drink muddied water for beer,” murmured Etana. “Like the dead.”
<

“It does not matter, for I have been promised. I shall prove that Love is stronger than death. Do not cower in fear,” said Salome flinching from the brush of a demon’s wings in her hair. “I am ashamed of you.”
<

The winged ones flew through the leaves, dropping sparks and cinders on the little troupe below. Etana must put out a fire in her hair, and Aaliyah must step gingerly between the embers that had fallen around her bare feet. Salome raised her arms to the flames, shouting that she would overcome death and live with her Beloved forever.
<

“Oh, Jokannaan, feel the power of this place! Here, I shall restore you to life, and you must love me then. My love is proved by my Courage. See how I dance in the flames, fearlessly for your sake.”
<

The trees rustled, the winged ones lept along the path, looking back towards Salome and laughing.  Etana and Aaliyah clung to each other, ducking the long grasp of the winged ones that reached for them and passed through them as though they were air. The girls cried out in pain for them to stop. The musicians slowed playing, and then lay down their instruments to chase the demons off.
<

“Where is my music?” Salome shouted. “You must make a loud noise, for we come to dance before the Queen of Joy and Laughter.”
<

“We are defending you, Princess,” the ney player shouted.
<

“No need, no need. I have been promised safe passage and so have you. Commence to play music as before.”
<

So they gave up their battle and played for Salvation with closed eyes, pushed along by the demons that dropped to the ground behind them. Suddenly the winged ones flew down on the path ahead. The largest one pointed at high wall of solid grey stone with an ornate gatehouse in the center. They had made it to the Third Gate.

Salome: The Seventh Queen: 7: The Wager

by Aline deWinter

She-Who-Rode-The-Dragon seemed to be in conflict with herself. “We do not
like this Jokannaan. He has set armies against us unjustly. Not only human armies, but also of angels.
Why should I allow you to pass?”

>

“The Great Mother prepared me to dance before Our Lady Ishtar,
Queen of Heaven and Earth, so that the Prophet may be brought back to
life…for the sake of my soul who had him killed wrongly.”

<
“But you did well. Why should I help you to revive our enemy?”

<
“Is not Herodias, Queen of Judea, your enemy, who put him to death?” Salome said. At that moment
she knew in her heart that her mother had never turned away
from the Goddess’s shrine, had always harbored in her soul a
treacherous worship for the Lustful One. This put a wrinkle in her plans, and she wondered about the Demoness with the faces of her mother on the dragon.

<
She-Who-Rode-the-Dragon, scintillating with red and deep purple light,
rose up in anger, gazing all the while at Salome. “If I let you pass,
what shall you give us in return? You will bestow a gift worthy of the favor you seek — or you
shall not pass.”

<
The maids whispered to each other, fretting that they had not known of this, but Salome hushed them.

<
“I have scarlet roses nurtured in the gardens of Byzantium, their fragrance inspires months of amorous nights.  I give you crimson wine fermented from grapes grown in the slopes of Calabria. These I offer you, oh, Great Guardian of the Shrine of Ishtar, in hope that they will be pleasing. Will you accept these gifts?”

<
Salome snapped her fingers and her serving maids suddenly came to their
senses and brought forth a cluster of fifteen armfuls of roses and nine casks of
wine. They crossed a little bridge that suddenly appeared across the
stream. And on the other side, they spilled and scattered the roses
upon the ground and poured wine at the feet of the Demoness. She
towered above them, smiling, so that they would know, deep in their
bellies, that roses and wine were substitutes for human blood. The
maids scurried backwards, bowing, unable to take their eyes off of the
messenger of the Great Whore of Babylon. They resumed their places
behind their Princess who stood within a scintillating light, like a
star, overcome with a rush of strange, feverish excitement.

<
“Your serving girls know much, oh Princess of Judea. What will you give me in exchange for the Prophet’s life?”

<
Trembling, Salome’s mind was blank, for she had not thought that the Demoness would demand more than what she had already given.

<
“I bring the dance, oh, Queen-Whose-Mysteries-are-Great. Other than that and the
gifts of roses and red wine… I have only myself to give.” Salome said and
prostrated herself gracefully upon the ground.

<
The dragon reared up and the beautiful Demoness smiled, turning her
seven-headed mount around as smoothly as it if were a single-headed
beast. Her circuit complete, the dragon’s seven heads on their seven
long necks swung around all at once, and Salome screamed at the sudden
sight of fourteen eyes and seven leering jaws lunged over the stream
at her as if to gobble her up. Again, in a flash of dull white light, Salome beheld the face of Herodias.

<
“Go upon that hill,” the Demoness shouted, turning and pointing to the
hilltop that sloped up behind her. Some ruined towers stood at the top
behind an ancient gate that gleamed with the rays of the dying sun.
“That is the first gate. Enter therein. Find the way into the Garden of
Seven Terraces. You will know it by the fumes and the unearthly sounds
that issue from it. Sing praises to Our Lady of Eternal Life, and She
will open the way to you.”

<
Suddenly there was shimmer of blinding light and the sound as of many
doves singing and the sound as of many wings fluttering, and the music
of rushing waters. The earth trembled so that Salome, and her maids, and
musicians fell to their knees, and the head of the Prophet opened his
eyes and opened his mouth as if to cry out in protest against Salome’s wicked plan.

<
Salome placed the head of Jokannaan carefully back into the golden casquet and shut the lid as She-Who-Rode-the-Dragon vanished as if she had never been.

Salome: the Seventh Queen: 6: She-Who-Rides-the-Dragon

by Aline deWinter

<

Just then there was a loud hissing sound followed by howling as of a hundred
jackals chasing a herd of antelope across the desert.

<
“What is that?” Salome cried as her serving girls clung to her.

<
“Who dares to enter the Sacred Garden of the Most High Goddess?”

<
A flock of dark birds flew up, blasted by the woman’s voice as on a
wave of volatile wind. An early moon suddenly rose above the rocks.
Nothing else moved, even the patch of scrub grass that Salome saw from
the window of her carriage was as still as the surrounding rocks.

<
Salome stood up and shouted,”It is I, Salome, Princess of Judea, daughter of Herod!”

<
“Come, Salome, Princess of Judea! Leave your shoes behind, and enter,” the voice commanded.

<
“Oh, Princess, must we go?” Aaliyah cried.

<
“Surly, if we enter there, we shall never come out again,” said Etana.

<

“Yes, we will,” said Salome, swallowing hard. “I was promised a boon.
Etana, take the mirror and pick up the torch. Have the driver light it,
for it will grow suddenly dark.  And, Aaliyah, carry the head of Jokannaan.”

<

Drawing the scarlet hood down from her head to reveal her radiant
crown, Salome stepped out of the carriage, followed by her maids. They
slipped off their delicate sandals, wincing at the heat and roughness
of the ground beneath their feet. The driver held the horses, looking
to the Princess for direction, as did the three musicians whose
instruments hung stiffly in their hands.

<
“Come, Salome, Princess of Judea. You are expected.”

<
The voice was like liquid amber, pouring through the gate and casting a red-gold light over the stones.

<
“Come Salome, Princess of Judea, and bring to me the head of Jokannaan.”

<
The voice was like silver with scales, and the light that washed over
the rock was deep violet as the old command of Herodias, and then of
Salome, echoed through the gate.

<
“Give me the head of Jokanaann,” she said to Aaliyah. “I must carry it in myself.”

<
“Yes, Princess,” said Aaliyah, looking treacherously relieved as she handed the casket to Salome.

<
Salome raised her eyebrow at Aaliyah as she took the beloved head. She opened the casket and set
the Prophet’s head so it was visible from above. Then the Princess of
Judea carried it high before her and walked between the two chimera,
entering the Gate of No Return. Her maids came behind, carrying the
mirror and the torch, and several sheaves of roses and caskets of wine
pulled in a little cart behind them. The musicians followed, playing a
strange, snaking melody of Protection From Enchantment. The duty of the
driver was to stay behind and guard the jittery horses.

<
Salome slowly swayed down a narrow cleft in the warm, pale rock that
curved like a snake for several yards before letting her out into a
clearing surrounded by the high, crumbling walls of the garden.

<
“So, you have come.”

<

Birds flew up. The voice was high above, in the
rustling treetops, in the air, no — behind her — no, no — in the
wash of moonlight through the leaves, on a hill opposite a sparkling
stream. So startled that she almost dropped the Prophet’s head in a
faint, Salome was suddenly transfixed by the sight of the Speaker. Her
maidservants were bowed to the ground in terror at the sight, and the
music abruptly stopped as the musicians froze like the Obelisks before
the Temple of Isis.

<
Naked but for a mass of streaming, flame colored hair, her neck,
wrists, and ankles adorned with heavy gold and pearls and precious gems
as bright as fire, she rode on the back of a dragon whose seven,
horned, heads hissed and wove, and whose scales were purple, red and
golden. She smiled at Salome, then laughed, her eyes like green
quicksilver.  Then she raised her golden cup in salutation — the cup
that was said to be brimming with abominations. As if to show off, the
Demoness rode the dragon to and fro, made it rear up and hover above
the ground. Its many tails swished and lashed out across the stream,
towards Salome. All the seven heads, with their fourteen dangerous
eyes, gazed at the Princess as if they could read her very soul. For a brief instant,

Salome thought the dragon’s seven heads wore pale oval of face of dark browed Herodias.

<
“So you dare to bring the head of the Prophet, Jokannaan, into the Holy
precincts of the Great Goddess?’ the liquid voice said, spilling honey
into the air.

<
Salome stepped forward, holding the casket high. “Yes!” she shouted.

<
Lightning flashed from the eyes of the Demoness. “How do you dare?”
she demanded.

<
“My heart is made bold by the fire of love,” cried Salome. Tears started in her eyes for
memory of the Prophet’s poignant beauty, and for mercy of the terrible
Presence before her.

To be continued…