Cain, to her reasoning, was a strong spiritual Neteru warrior to guard the inside of the door, after serving a sentence for doing the unspeakable. This brother knew hard time, had been in the streets back in the day when the real biblical deal was going down, had been seasoned by experience, and knew a game when he saw one. He had to live it in order to know a demon with fangs hiding in half-human form when he saw one. Just like the Light had clearly made a younger, strong male Neteru on the outside who had similar experiences and proclivities, and who was helping to keep a lid on from the earth side of the door.
Problem was, she was really beginning to like this one over in Nod perhaps a little too much for her own good. She spied Cain from the corner of her eye. He was sexy, knowledgeable, and real cool. He seemed to know so much, and she wanted to spend hours picking his brain about all the things he'd seen over the years, all the aerial battles and strategy, down to the technology housed in all the libraries flanking the boulevard. He had both street smarts and ancient scroll smarts, and packaged in a body that made her wanna slap her mother-seer.
Thick vibe had settled between them as they walked along quietly side by side. The brother wanted her, but wasn't all up in her face, the time in the studio notwithstanding. He had backed off, was serving gentleman to the bone. She wouldn't hold that momentary lapse in her condo and studio against him, given an apex, anything coulda kicked off. His mom was good people, in fact, she was a queen. He exuded quiet, secure authority. Plus, by rights, when he could have just kicked Carlos's ass, he didn't. Took the high road. Now that she respected. Comparisons and what ifs were tumbling around in her brain so hard that she almost forgot they were walking beside each other.
Cain stretched out his arm before her to keep her from moving forward as they approached a shadowy corridor in a realm that cast no shadows. The light from above didn't reach the ground here where the small opening at the edge of the city was lined by high walls. "Draw your Isis."
Damali did, but a current of desire ran through her when she obliged. Cain hadn't told her to wait here. Hadn't said some macho bull like, "Baby, I got this, it's too dangerous for you." Instead, he'd simply put her on guard and told her to draw like an equal warrior, while nonverbally requesting that she only follow him because he'd been here before. Now that was also deep.
"The walls," he said, leveling his blade at them. "Put your hand near one.
She did, and a human face with its eyes closed and mouth opened pressed against it as though the structure were rubber: She snatched her hand back.
"Those are seekers. Humans with deep, unfulfilled desires in their subconscious, which makes them vulnerable to suggestions-- good or bad. They want what is not resident in them, seek gifts that are not theirs to be had in their current incarnations, and want things from the exterior of themselves, versus what is already deep within."
Cain stared at her. "I never sought you here. You never yearned from here. Knowing in your soul that you had a gift, and you did, and wanting your gift to shine does not send you to the seeking wall, and does not draw the negative energies. That brings the Light. That brings inspiration. Not false promises in trade for the liquid sensation of mental touch at this wall."
"Damn," she whispered. "Your red-light district? This was what I saw behind the club."
"Even some good beings accidentally wind up here under the self-deluded guise that they are helping the seekers move away from the wall. When caught and embarrassed, they claim that they've told the seekers to go within, to focus on their real gifts, and to seek divine guidance." Cain scoffed. "Self-professed evangelists, who get enmeshed in the seduction of this corridor and wind up whispering more than inspirational messages of Light." He smiled. "Let us leave this foul place. But you needed to witness it for yourself. It will flood with negative energies as the moons rise."
"Where to?"
He smiled as the rejuvenating light poured over them when they exited the dank, gray corridor. "Would you like to see my palace, and where I hold court?"
She swallowed a chuckle. Once all business was handled now he was the one flirting. "Okay."
Damali almost laughed out loud as an occasional blue arc would creep across his armor, discharging static as they leisurely strolled down a palm-lined boulevard. Cain seemed like an excited teenager, and she could almost feel his energy quickening her pace as his anticipation built. She glimpsed his strong, proud profile from the corner of her eye. How in the world did she wind up in the company of a king, she wondered?
But as they passed a huge, glass pyramid structure that had blocked her view, she simply stopped walking and stared.
"Oh, my God . . ."
"You like it?" he asked, unable to stop beaming at her.
She shook her head and blew out a long whistle, then censured herself as the sound with vibration made him briefly close his eyes. "It's amazing," she said, recovering quickly. And it was.
A glistening white, monumental seven-columned structure sat on a slight rise with a three-block-long promenade of majestic palms before it. Above the main entrance was a carved relief of the disc of Heru, with the blade of Asuar. On one huge golden door a winged falcon was fused with a double sun, and the same symbols she'd seen on his sword inscribed into the metal. On the other was the feather of Ma'at with the forty-two laws written in the ancient language. Six white stone lions, three per side, guarded the doorway. She watched Cain snap, the lions come to life, purr and fawn at his passage as he guided her up what had to be three hundred steps, and then find their perches again to once more become stone.
With a gentle shove, the several-ton doors opened, perfectly weight-balanced. In the grand portico, they stood on a mosaic-strewn tile floor of opalescent white fused together with silver and gold mortar. She could look down what had to be a thousand steps to an azure-surfaced pool studded by indoor palms and benches that terminated with what seemed to be a parliamentary galley facing a marble podium and an ornately carved white marble judge's chair.
"Whew," she whispered. "You guys don't mess around on this side, do you? Talk about taking things to the max."
"The rest of it is behind the main court. Very similar to the smaller design that Solomon employed once he understood the architectural dynamics."
"Solomon based his temple on yours?"
"All the great architecture is based on ours," Cain said, seeming slightly offended. She swallowed another smile and briefly thought of Carlos. If he'd seen this, then her man was definitely not all right. "Are you sure that you don't have Carlos locked away in a dungeon somewhere?" she asked, half-joking. "I know how he can be, and he might not have taken any of this well."
Cain chuckled and sighed. "Put your hands out before you. Sense for him here. Do you pick up any physical distress?"
Damali cast Cain a sidelong look and began sensing. It wasn't physical distress that concerned her.
"No," she finally said. "But I just don't see him coming here under battle bulk conditions, getting tired, chilling, and then saying see ya later. I am worried about him." She sheathed her blade and placed her hands on her hips. "Wanna tell me what really happened when you guys hit the pavement on this side of the world?"
"I really do not," Cain said with a sly grin. "But I will relent. We will save the tour of the palace for your next visit, should you honor me again." He touched her hair and allowed his hand to fall away. "I should take you back to the cliff dwelling, before I forget why you came here."
On that note, she decided it was best to keep any further questions to herself for the moment. The air had charged around them again, and she had to stay on mission.