AllFreeNovel
Share Us
I lift my head, lock eyes with hers. “I am.”
“Then go forward…to your pilgrimage,” she says. “To the Garden.”
I don’t know if it’s a real place yet; I haven’t gotten this far until now.
Regardless, I’m going in.
I stride into the bowels of the houseboat, where incense clouds the air and bodies press close in reverence. A circle forms, tight as a fist around a stone goddess statuette, and I find my place among the faithful. Their chants rise and fall like the tide, a cadence that grabs hold of something primal inside me.
I look into the statuette’s eyes…and I find a face I recognize.
Aisling.
Their goddess of love, sex, temptation.
“Brother,” a voice hisses near my ear, “it’s time.”
A cultist steps forward, her hands cradling a chalice wrought from dark metal that seems to swallow the light. She offers it to me, and I don’t hesitate. This is the moment I commit, the moment I drink deep from the cup of their madness to find Aisling. The liquid is thick, sweet with pomegranate, heavy with eros—the kind of concoction that blurs the lines between fervor and fever.
“By blood and by spirit, we bind you to Her,” the woman intones, her eyes locked on mine. I feel the eyes of the others burning into me, expectant, hungry.
“Bound in service,” I echo back, and tip the chalice to my lips.
It hits fast, a wildfire through my veins. At first, I’m here, standing with them, feeling the boat rock beneath my feet. Then the world tilts, colors bleed together, and I’m adrift in a sea of sensation, lost to the rhythm of the waves and the beat of my own heart. Time slips away, elusive as smoke.
When awareness creeps back in, it’s a jolt. The boat heaves beneath me, the once-still waters now a tempestuous dance. I blink against the harsh bite of salt in the air, the whip of wind against my face. The cultists are gone, just echoes of their devotion lingering in the hollow space. The boat is cutting through the water with purpose, heading north, toward a destination whispered in hushed tones—The Garden.
“Shit,” I mutter, staggering to my feet. My head pounds with the remnants of the eros, each throb a reminder of what I’ve just done. I’ve crossed a line, there’s no going back now. I clutch at the railing for support, squinting into the distance where grey meets grey, sky smashes into sea, and somewhere beyond, lies The Garden.
And maybe, just maybe, Aisling.
