The beginning section of my novella, The Courtesans of Abaddon, in which four sisters work in a brothel that exists simultaneously within heaven and hell, serving both angels and demons, in which time both passes eternally and doesn't exist at all, where day and night, light and dark, good and evil, god and anti-god, seem to be one and the same.

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The Courtesans of Abaddon
by Courtney Valdez
At the bottom of a bottomless pit it was, is, and would be, both light and dark and hot and
cold, but never always one or the other or both, and certainly never neither. It was both now and
there, at rest in silence, with the usual noises of course, and here and then, alive and vibrant,
stressful in that way. Infinitely deep and miles upon leagues vast, the light shone down and tore
the shadows asunder, and as it did so, the shadow descended upon and swallowed the light, all at
once and on and on, and though the darkness melted in the light that died in shadow, each beat
on unto their own, and they brought with them the implications and insinuations of such notions
as they were and made what was, and that which is, and all that would be, one with them, so to
shape the bottom of the bottomless cataract as a calm, joyous, violent, terrifying place of
angelically demonic ecstasy, though such notions were known and felt only by those with
inclination toward such things. These feelings made themselves no truer than in the cool breeze
of the light, a dry, never too warm calm, and the humid, suffocating heat of the dark, a barren
oppressiveness that would close in around and crush one who attempted to make sense of it.
And sense it made, in the particular manner in which the dwelling brought in those who
sought the momentary release, a release only otherwise granted by an act of their very natures,
for which they had come as well. How could they, being of nature themselves, escape such
ensnarement of being? The shadows clung to the floors and walls of dirt and wood, tables and
chairs as well, dark forged metal looming from the ceiling, cressets that held to twisted burning
wax, and lamps of bounding flames housed in deep blue and gray stone, a mantel of uncarved
stone held together in an unmelting clay frame and the thrusting, flesh consuming flame within,
burning not from kindling or coal but from somewhere within the ground and far below…and
forward, past the front hall, the hallway stretched further inside, where smaller chambers of
broken mirrors, ravaged beds, and savage cries and howls, and all of it held within by windows
of thick black volcanic glass. And all of it hot—a suffocating, hateful heat that pulsed, but
always hotter and heavier than the beat that had come before, boiling the vapor and searing flesh,
though flesh was difficult to come by, and any that was would certainly ashen away before one
could seriously consider it having been at all.
It is within these walls that they are speaking, or were, perhaps would be, if ever. In any
case, it was Naamah, a mother of cambions, who found her sister Lilith in the hall entryway, a
mother of her own lot only, and all that withheld her from smothering a child such as one of her
sisters’ was the scent of the blood she shared with the half-breed abominations. There were no
children in their hall, though, and not ever had there been, nor would, so there was no reason to
believe she had found her sister for unthinkable matters as their children, yet what could ever be
so unthinkable? And Naamah saw the lined face of her sister’s guest as he turned from her and
went through the front hall, and she backed away half a step and leant into the burnt and burning
wall and waited for Lilith to turn and see that she was there and waiting, and Lilith bowed her
head and acted as though she were unaware and moved into the hallway to pass by.
So Naamah, the pleasant one, said to her, You will not speak to me now, yet I want to hear
you.
And her sister Lilith stopped and turned and said, That is what you want?

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I have always listened, said Naamah.
And Lilith shook her head and said, Not this time.
You have spoken these words before, said Naamah and she moved to the middle of the
hallway to say, You have spoken them and you have done nothing about it, as though there was
something that could be done, but now this selfishness has overtaken you, and it is making you
betray yourself.
Such is what I am, said Lilith not in the sound of a voice her own but of a broken, dry throat,
and she turned her head so she would not have to catch her sister’s gaze, but the black emptiness
in the floor.
Naamah gave her a moment, listening again to the way Lilith had said it, and said to her, It
will be light soon.
And Lilith said, It already is.
So the light painted the colors and shapes of the Houses, reflecting the cool sheen of the
marble steps and way and the pillars of white and gold of the doors and greens and blues and
oranges of the stained glass, a calming light that carried a breeze upon it. The Houses laid
countless and nestled in a brilliant sea, each one greater and more magnificent than the next,
none more grand than the last, home to such as those who carried the word and a host, the host of
hosts, and any and all betwixt. And the hills rolled out, waves of grass that caressed softly and
soundlessly the wind. It was the white cobblestone that led to the hall above, perhaps a cathedral
of a kind, a joining of wood and clean marble around a door that opened simply, with the lightest
touch, to a smile and the serenade of voices, those of absolute angels.
Such sounds came from the far side of the hall, where one of them sat atop a golden stool
and kissed the tips of her fingers along the harp strings that whispered sweet poems into the
softly prancing air. The hall was bright and open, light pouring in from the high windows, and
that coming through the stained ones laid color over the white, but nonetheless brilliant marble
floors and tables of oak and chandeliers of sparkling crystal, and left no corner untouched, but
never did it feel as anything but the cool surface of water. Neither did the fire burn madly, as it
rested calm and dim in its home within the glistening marble mantel, as the hallway beyond
housed the bedchambers of angels whose home this was called, four of them, and each one
beautiful and wise and kind, known by all who came to receive their company, though each in
their own way.
It is in one of those very chambers that Uriel, who is His light, sat in a chair of red velvet
and watched the beautiful Eisheth finger her harp, gazing back unto his eyes as she hummed the
song of her strings. He smiled his approval, a glorious sound it was, and the sight of such
radiance, perhaps more so. Eisheth’s sister, the beauty beside his chair, knelt and handed him the
porcelain cup, a calm trail of steam rising from the tea, though only warmed enough to settle on
his throat and smelling faintly of fruits. He accepted it and ran his fingers across her cheek, a
tickle of flesh that she gasped under, a swoon as perfect as the shape of the smile she returned.
So he sipped the tea and took the sisters unto himself, listening to the hums of one, music to his
ears, and tasting the flavors of the other. It is Igrat who was beside him on his left, resting on her
knees and preparing the pot of tea for him. Her dark blond hair was pulled away from her long
face and tied to the back of her head, a flawless bunch with not a single strand torn free. The
black of her sister Eisheth’s hair hung from her smaller, round head, down the length of her
black and nearly hanging below the stool from which she played her harp, faster now and

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humming slightly louder. Uriel, who is His light, thought the sounds of her chest and throat
perfect, though the strings, the manner in which her fingers fondled them and brought the song
out of her, now had a disharmony.
And he told her so.
You find it distasteful, said Igrat, and she raised the teapot toward the cup in his outstretched
hand.
Uriel allowed her to finish pouring before he so much as bothered to move. He concentrated
on the dark haired sister, her round face, at the smooth bumps of her cheeks, enveloping her
closed and steady mouth. When he drew the cup back toward his own face, he let the scent of
sweet fruit rise into his nose and mouth, and he said, My patronage is of the arts, such as the
music you play less than heavenly.
Would you like me to play another song, asked Eisheth.
I would like the music of your strings made divine, he said, and he had yet to draw his gaze
away from hers.
Perhaps I may grant my company in other ways, she said.
And he shook his head and said, I would have your song soar so that it may sooth the weary
heart, and I have such a heart now that I have heard the music flail and fade, though I will not
say that I am not enjoying your company, radiant as it is, this is simply what I am.
And it was so. Uriel, who is His light, was patron of the arts and of words, the kind that
which filled the book he had set down on the table to his right. It was from this book that he read
to them, as a way of showing them the divine sound that such music must aspire to and attain to
be taken as worthy of creation. The poems were of hills and creek beds, tall trees and little
spotted butterflies, gentle winds, blue skies, the greenest grass, the whitest clouds, light and
beauty, and the sound of his voice was like a song, speaking the words in absolute beat and
rhythm, a harmonious marriage that formed a life unto itself, and drew upon the hearts of those
whom it graced, in such a manner as only he could have made.
Such beauty, said Igrat, We have certainly never heard such wonder, except that which you
have spoken.
Certainly, he said, For only I can do so, the purpose of the art must only be to achieve
divinity, as I have just shown.
Eisheth bowed her head and smiled and asked, Is it ever possible to bring such a wonderful
creative fire to others?
It is now that Uriel swallowed the tea in a single sip and set it on the outstretched tray to his
left, and lifted his chin higher so that his head rested in the soft velvet behind him, though he
kept his gaze once again on that of Eisheth, the beauty that she was.
And he said, Such is what I am, though my purposes reach far beyond bringing my gifts to
those who He has made in His own image, to think if I was no more useful beyond that, though
thoughts are merely what such things are. No, he said, I have smitten a host of one hundred and
eighty thousand men, an army meant to destroy His city on men’s soil, and it was I that was sent
to observe the doors painted with the blood of lambs, so that I should believe my place in the true
host safe beyond that which I give to men.
In either instance, said Eisheth, What you do for men and what you give them are acts of
love I may never feel.
And Uriel said, That is what I am, to give them what I do, and what I do for them He has
tasked me with, for when I spoke with the son of Lamech and told him to hide from the coming
waters, it was His word that sent me, and what more divine purpose is there than to do His work?

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If that is so, said Igrat, What is your greatest moment?
And it is now that Uriel’s head lowered, so that he was not gazing unto Eisheth, but perhaps
the floor between her and himself, as it appeared to Igrat, who had not moved from her knees at
his left side nor neglected to fill the tea again, though as she brought it up to place it in his hand,
he shook his head only slightly enough so that she would notice and set it back, and his other
hand, resting on the open pages of his book, rapped softly on the papyrus.
I stood before Him, he said, To testify, though on behalf of men, it was His will that I do so,
and I spoke to accuse brothers of mine who had fallen and taken wives of flesh who gave birth to
Nephilim. It was my word, he said, That sent them to damnation, which I did and will do, so long
as it be His will.
Igrat drew herself back to provide her guest with more room and so that she could gaze
toward Eisheth without bringing his attention unto her, and she saw that her sister was troubled,
that she had not yet been granted an answer to the question she had asked of him, though the
sight of which was only visible to herself, as it was not custom to expect such boons from their
guests, nor were they to bother guests with such matters, for desires of their own were sacrilege,
untrue to who and what they were, beings of mind and body to those they served only. Yet,
Eisheth was her sister, and Igrat was aware of the machinations that took place in her heart and
in the muscles that tensed beneath the skin of her round, smooth face. She would say nothing of
it, as it were, because they were what they were, and they would act in such a way.
So, after some moments, Igrat said, It is sometimes difficult for us to do what we must, even
when we are asked.
And Uriel chuckled and from within him a smile arose again, and he said, No, not at all, I
acted as He willed, as I should, that was my proudest moment.
It was now that Naamah let fall the water from her cupped palm over the bare shoulder and
chest of Camael, who sees Him, to run down his imperceptibly ethereal flesh and into the bath
once again, sending a faint ripple outward to fade into the gently dancing white shimmer along
the surface, embraced by the light that beamed through the open balcony behind and the
windows along the walls above. She leant further over him from above the bath and pressed her
wet fingers along his skin to unwrap and part the knots of muscle beneath. He was pleased with
her touch, and had told and was telling her, his voice a musical echo on the walls, rare words
from his mouth that had naught to do with whom he saw. And she had come to know Camael, so
that she understood the manner in which to provide him an even greater pleasure, and as his
hostess she would only have him pleased.
I am surprised, said Naamah, That you have taken breath to pay my hands respect, when it is
your reverence that flatters and inspires me truly.
And Camael shifted himself under the water, though his movement changed not a line along
the surface and the shape of his bare body beneath remained clear. This is not to say that he
moved enough to turn or bend his head to see her, only that he pressed himself higher up against
the lip of the bath so that he may be deeper within her reach, for he grows weary at ceaseless
watch of the gates, alongside his army twelve-thousand strong, when he is not also caring for his
other charges, and this is more that Naamah knows, such that she fingers more water onto his
broad shoulders and neck and breasts and massages the flesh.
And Camael said, It is reverence that makes me what I am, it gives me life, and it becomes
my reverence to speak kindly to the hands that ease the burden of protecting it, though small a

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pleasure your hands or weight my burden itself be in the light of that love we must all feel.
You protect love with itself, she said.
And he said, That is its divine nature, a love insurmountable that He gives us, and one that is
seldom tranquilly given, so few of His freed children wish to see it, as if the embrace of His love
was any more onerous than loving Him as well.
The thought troubles you, she said, And here you are and my hands wish to free you.
And he said, What greater gift is there to receive than to give His love?
Yet you show them the truth, she said, And you use it to defend Him, you dwell in that love.
As she said so, Camael turned to see her stretched out across the floor and held up above
him with her right hand and reaching over with her left. His gaze was flat, without smile or
frown, and unblinking, centered on her face and eyes and elsewhere in a manner that she knew,
and she did as she would, being his hostess, and pulled her face back only a touch, fluttering her
eyes and biting with the edge of her teeth the inside of her thick lips and bringing her hand back
to her, first to her chest and then to her face to brush one of the hanging braids back, closer to the
wrap of braided hair tied behind, and she waited so he would be taken in by the sight that had
drawn him to bother rising and turning for. She said not a word before he could come to his own
terms with his own.
And he said at last, Your skin, the palest olive, it glows like the morning dew along the hills,
such as none I will find among His masses of lost children, and with a touch that soothes the
ache in my back and shoulders from holding His gates true, it is love that made you, truly, that is
the only warmth strong enough to shape those hands, and those lips, those miraculous cheek
bones, the wide roundness of that nose, and the green in those eyes and those sharp black brow
hairs and that high flat sheen of your forehead, He made you in this way because He loves you
and this is a marvelous, beautiful thing.
This is nary the first time Naamah had been praised in words so flattering, and from Camael,
who sees Him, being the embodiment of Divine Love, and it is for such truths that she remained
hostess to him, and smiled for him, and gave him a soft, gentle kiss on his brow, and drew back
and smiled again, and bowed her head in respect and reverence of his words, and there was no
reason to believe she will have done otherwise, for what she did is absolutely what she was.
As before, she waited for him to come to terms with his words, and when she saw that he
was again drawing away from her and back to the bath water she let the braid fall forward over
the side of her face where it had been alongside the other loose strands and said, You flatter me
yet, but I have only been here to do as you wish, not so divine a purpose as yours.
It is His love that brings us all here, he said, And that alone gives divine purpose to the touch
of your fingers on my self.
If that is what you believe, who am I to not?
And she sat up higher and used both her hands to massage both his shoulders and arms and
his neck and back and chest, and he was speechless as she did so, as if she had massaged him to
rest, though such a thing was not possible and she never considered it, nor did she believe she
had acted wrongly in speaking what she had spoken or massaging as she massaged, for he would
have spoken himself and made it known that was so.
Then he did, and without turning or moving his gaze from the white speckled bath water he
said, When I sent them from the garden I did so with others though I could have done so alone,
and for my part I very well did, though that is not what I want to say perhaps, but what I mean is
when I went to them, to throw them from His garden, they cried and begged for mercy, to be
forgiven, to be left to suffer the torment of their own guilt, as though guilt within such sinful

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hearts would be the greater punishment to His own, and I did what I was meant to, and I struck
them from that place of green.
The speech is that which Naamah recalled much of, concerns of his that she was aware of
and was already waiting to answer, though she waited even longer, so he would not recognize
such expectations, as they would be unwelcome and cause for a most blinding recourse coming
from someone as her lowly self. Being who she was, and what she was, she would only have her
guest satisfied to his most exacting expectation.
They turned away from the love you bear, she said at the perfect moment and no sooner or
later.
Indeed, said he, And they wished to take back their trespass, which had become legion, or
they believed they wished to, yet by forgiveness their actions would have remained, He will have
been betrayed nonetheless.
Certainly the punishment was just.
It was divine.
Yet the thought lingers,
And he at last moved, but only his shoulders and arms, so that he lifted them onto the bath
lip and held himself there, and he said, The thought lingers for it was a lie.
A lie, she asked and moved her hands over his front and massaged his chest beneath the
water.
And he said, They cried and begged for forgiveness, they wailed out their words, that they
loved Him, that they had not abandoned Him, and yet they betray him in so foolish and heinous a
manner, for if they loved Him, if they had ever truly known the love I bear in me, they would not
have fallen, they could not have.
It was a love divine that Camael, who sees Him, bore on his shoulders, and he could have
carried no greater or lighter a weight, for he was His bearer, and His justice to those who forsook
it, so what else could one expect him to feel but confusion at the absurdity of the betrayal and
bitterness at the dismissal of such love and anger at the foolish stupidity and the pride and greed
it must have taken to expect forgiveness? And Naamah had no reason nor inclination to believe
there be any other way in which to see it, nor any desire to know of one, for she was his hostess,
and he was her guest, and it was her burden to bear his thoughts and pleasures as he saw fit. And
she did so.
It is now that Lilith, of pink hue and short hair, the blackest of its kind and strewn down over
her forehead and eyes and ears but not so far as the back of her neck, laid along her stomach over
the satin bed sheets, raising her slender feet up and crossing them, the insides of her calves
rubbing, holding together, and allowed herself to be taken in by the words of Zephon, for there
she remained, while he moved around the chamber, from the bedside to the stool and harp, where
he ran his hand along the neck, to the mirror in the corner, where he took the vision of himself in,
around the foot of the bed to the velvet chair on the right and the little table beside it and back.
She followed him with her eyes, to be aware of him always, as she must, staring up from beneath
her eyelids and shallow brow rather than lifting her head up farther than was desirable, for it was
her head, and her neck, and it was not that which was hers he wished to have risen to his height.
And he was saying, As it was then that He made His way back through the abyss, while the
others who He had rallied to defend His kingdom below waged His war against the host, and I
would not allow Ithuriel to turn back, for it was my purpose to find His dark self and bring Him

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before the light, as asked of me by Gabriel, my brother, and although Ithuriel was strong, he
doubted our strength to subdue Him, for He was who He was, and I told him that mattered not, I
told him He must be brought back, and I bid Ithuriel come with me, so I led him into the abyss
after His dark self while our brothers fought fallen brothers, and I held to Ithuriel so that he
would not be left alone in the shadows of that stark emptiness and let my strength guide my path
and my lance—
Yet, the focus of his attentions would not be on the effort she put into holding her head up
but the thoughts he believed needed voicing, for she knew him, and he preferred the feel and
sound of his voice above all but His, and even then there was perhaps little difference. So Lilith
followed him, from the right to the left and back, allowing him to speak his tales of holy purpose,
and softly rubbed her calves together, and stretched her back and pressed her body into the satin,
listening as she made herself more at ease, never breaking her focus on his voice though without
allowing herself to lose the comfort of the bed or the cool air, as she wished.
And he was saying, For when He broke through the darkness and into the world He sought
the poison it and used His voice to trick men, what He believes was His greatest creation, and I
made Ithuriel hasten his flight, and I clove the nightmare creatures of the shadow in two and
splayed their vile misshapen snouts, and I needed but the motion of my lance for they were little,
pathetic creatures, pitiful in their pitiless existence, blind to their deformed manipulation, and I
would not allow Him to win so effortlessly, though Ithuriel was slower and he could not fell the
dark beasts as quickly nor as simply nor in the numbers I did, for I let His sorrow be my
sustenance in the face of endless—
It is not difficult to take in such a horde of words, and even simpler when one’s nature is to
be what another desires. And yet, despite who she was, taking into account the comfort she
brought herself by allowing her body a relaxation, she measured her obedience to what she was
meant to be to the circumstances of the moment, knowing that her guest had so little concern for
her presence beyond the reinforcement of his words, and Lilith came to know she was not keen
to do as was expected, despite who she was. For Zephon would hear himself speak of what he
does and has done and will do, and it is always of great and noble works of his, divine in their
own right, each one grander than the last, more worthy of His approval, for he, Zephon, was one,
nay, THE one whom his brother Gabriel trusted to chase the Betrayer through the abyss in his
flight to defile the world and creation itself, and perhaps she believed he had. And, now that he
was up and around the chamber, she could believe so at rest on satin sheets, stretched out and
basking in the calm air, and be as concerned with what she desired at the moment.
And he was saying, That I came through to the world and pursued Him, carrying Ithuriel
with me, as He laid upon men, who He believes is His greatest children, with His honeyed voice
and promises that which could be made in dreams, and they were stupid and believed Him and
they failed, for the words used were merely suggestion and His Light had forbade them from
partaking in knowledge, and it was their choice to betray the word, for who were they to take
such ideas from He who they did not know was Himself, so that I was kept from doing what I
was meant to do, what I would have done, by the weak hearts of those who He feels are worth
the love He grants them over even His children of light, those who defend—
She believed it may be fun, though cruel to one able to see the intention behind it, to rise up
off the bed and take him in her arms and hold him close and speak of his courage and strength
and the power of his lance, of her own will, for he had not commanded her to do so. Would he
would tell her what she says is so, that of course he did naught for glory, he did it all in His name
and the name of the everlasting, that this Betrayer’s words had been their choice, that they chose,

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tricked but chose regardless, for they knew little but they did know they were forbidden and they
knew little else, and chose to defy? Or would he make her see the heresy of her act, rising and
touching him without his word, having chosen to do what she willed for herself? At this, Lilith
found herself losing track of him, somewhere on the left, between the harp and the tall mirror in
the corner and speaking of himself and things she did not quite hear, other choices perhaps, those
dark that may have been light, and light that may have been dark.
It is within the bright front hall, at these moments of solitude which can very well stretch
onward beyond themselves, though being that all such moments were infinitesimal in their
vastness one could hardly consider any such stretch considerable, that Naamah showed her then
arriving guest, the one Camael, into the hallway and toward the baths on the far end, and her
sister Igrat, coming from her bedchamber toward them, her tall body lowering to a bow as he
passed and went ahead, and to Naamah she rose and bowed again but only her face, and Naamah
did so as well and watched her guest move further away as her sister went on through the
entryway where she stood and into the hall, perhaps to the chamber behind the high counter.
Naamah turned back to the hall and allowed her guest to lead himself the rest of the way to the
baths, as he had found himself there before, and would do so again, the same as always, for what
difference was there between then, as she moved after her sister to arrange herself, and all other
here and nows?
So Naamah came into the hall and found that her sister Igrat had not gone into the chamber
behind the high counter but was indeed standing at the high counter and waiting, as though there
was something to wait for. Naamah came to the end of the counter and placed her hands folded
atop the oak and waited, for it was Igrat who had presented herself wanting and she would only
do so were there cause, and yet she said not a word, gazing into the long mirror on the near wall
to occupy the silence with her long, sculptural form.
And Naamah, being the pleasant one and therefore she who would be made to do so,
straightened herself and brought her chin high and smiled and said, You have left your guest to
himself?
I have no guest, she said and her voice was deep and calm as it was meant to be though she
left her gaze on the reflection and began to untie her hair.
So he is with our sister now.
She is seeing to him and learning a more divine way of fingering her strings.
As he would.
And her sister Igrat, who knew the want within her fed the want that kept her sister waiting
at the counter’s end but could not find the words with which to say what it was she wished to
say, and perhaps it was that she did not want to speak them, whatever they might be, for they
must exist somewhere beneath her tongue, in some way, or perhaps they did not at all, perhaps
there were no words, for the thought of such things was unthinkable, and not for madness but
unthinkable for there being no reason, no purpose, no ability to think them, not within herself or
her sister Naamah, who was pleasant and true to herself, or her sister Eisheth, who was true with
her concerns of her guests, yet her sister Lilith, who was true to herself as well and such honesty
must have been the birth of the thought…not an unthinkable madness but something mundane
and not to be feared.
So Igrat let her hair fall from her grasp into flawlessly straight strands over her shoulders
and back and without trying to understand it further she said, Our sister asked me if I should

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want to have any guest I would, would I wish to have them in my way.
And Naamah asked her to repeat it, for it was curious, and her sister did so, and she said, I
do not understand.
And Igrat narrowly shivered and said, She asked if I have ever thought of entertaining the
guests of my choosing.
Your choosing, said Naamah, What does she mean?
And Igrat said, She asked me if I would have a guest as I would want them, rather than as
they have me.
To this, Naamah could not keep her smile as strong, nor did she have to hear Igrat say the
name Lilith to know which sister had asked such things of her, as it was within their sister to
speak and do in her own way, as was who she was, though the words themselves and the
question they formed and the answers they hinted toward were an odd, mysterious kind, ones
Naamah herself would have never crossed in her thoughts, nor any of her sisters except Lilith,
because she was…the idea was curious and new, drowned in so many others that Naamah had to
clear them from her head, and when she did so, she could yet hear the first of them, what she
wished, should she, want to, of her want, as she would, she wanted to, and these words would not
silence themselves.
Yet Naamah let their talk grow at its own pace and asked, What, I would ask, did you say
that you would?
I cannot even consider it, said Igrat, As though I would be something else, something which
I am not!
And Naamah shook her head and turned her gaze away so Igrat would not see the
disappointment in the crooked smile for the answer was what she had expected and it was a good
one but now the words repeating in her head were not only speaking themselves but asking her
and they asked her what she wanted and would she do it and out of them rose a tremble in her
back.
So Naamah said, No of course not, you could not have. And she let the silence between
them linger a moment as she thought it all over again till the discontent under her sister’s eyes
and on the edges of her mouth made her ignore the rest and she said, Our sister would.
Our sister has, said Igrat and she came closer and said, She asks the question as though
expecting an answer, to think that I could have already thought it myself, I have never been so
taken—!
At this Naamah was given to a concern for her sisters rather than confusing and perhaps
meaningless questions, though they were certainly meaningless because if they were not and had
meaning or purpose, or perhaps they were both the same, then that also meant something
incredible and horrifying. To consider such a question and others alike, to merely think them,
was to question the very Light of Creation itself, a violation of all that was—to so much as
acknowledge the existence of such words in so particular an order, inflection, and connotation
was tantamount to the worst sort of betrayal, of all things. Though putting the words aside a
moment, why should it be so incredible, since though the ideas had never occurred to her or any
of her sisters other than Lilith, did that mean they were not to be trusted anyhow? To betray
herself in that way, to betray who she was…
And she put it out of mind yet again, because her sister stood before her, though taller and
looking down on her, waiting for her to do something to ease her mind of it. And that was who
Naamah was, the pleasant one, who would be there for her sisters in need.
And she said, We will see to her, she is our sister.

10. Valdez / 10
* * *
So when Lilith was free of her guest, and it seemed her sisters were as well, she heard the
sound of their voices calling to her, and it was Naamah’s stronger than the others to be more
truthful, and she went to them, but only after she had rearranged the sheets of her bed, though
there was no need, and fixed the lean of her mirror, and drew her sari on, and all at her own pace,
for though her sisters called for her and she would only go, at this moment she believed she
would only once it was right for her.
It is in the baths and near the balcony that she found them standing together, Igrat high and
farthest back and one hand clutching the other arm, and Eisheth with her arms folded together
over her stomach and smiling through her round cheeks, and Naamah closest and with her hands
at her sides and with a smile that was not quite a smile, a guess of what one would have been,
though Lilith understood why she had been summoned and she expected no such façades, and as
such she gave none either and smiled.
And Eisheth said, We called for you, we have been waiting, we thought you had received
another guest.
No, said Lilith and smiled so wide her teeth shone through, saying, I am here, though I
wanted to make myself more presentable, since you are my dear sisters.
As this they hesitated to speak, and Igrat turned and moved further into the balcony and the
blinding light, and she was bothered greatly, much more than Eisheth and much, much more than
Naamah, which was what Lilith expected and the reason she wished to speak to her first.
Naamah, her closest and most opposing sister, had not moved upon hearing her answer, and
once the moment was past she shook her head softly and gazed unto her eyes and said, We are
sisters dear Lilith, we are one, and we are concerned you may be confused, for what you have
asked—and she could not finish the thought.
So Lilith smiled even wider, and she felt the laughter burning inside, and came closer to
them and said, What am I confusing myself with sister, what is so confusing that you are all so
afraid?
We are not afraid, said Eisheth in her own high and sweet voice that flattened as she
finished.
And Lilith asked if they were sure.
We are concerned, said Naamah, You are our sister, a part of us, how are we to be well if
you are bothered by such feelings?
And Lilith said, You see, I am not bothered, I am here with my dear sisters and I am
smiling!
It is farthest from her and now turned away from the balcony and facing her through the
light that Igrat shook her head and said, I am not smiling my sister.
Oh, said Lilith and she tilted her head and frowned, which was at last a façade, though a
weak and obvious one and hardly meant to be otherwise, and she said, I wonder why you are so
bothered, I only wanted you to hear what it was before it slipped away from me.
And Igrat stepped away again and let her thoughts be to herself.
There is no need for this, said Naamah, We are here for you.
And Lilith, having heard enough of their fear and uncertainty, as she had anticipated though
foolishly hoped against, could no longer hold her laugher in wholly and said, I am neither
bothered nor confused, I had a thought and it strikes me as something so miraculous and true that
I cannot cast it away, so it has taken me but in the most wonderful way, to think that I am not

11. Valdez / 11
held to being what I am told to be, that I may do as I would like, to be my own and please myself
for once, if only I chose to!
It is the blankness of their faces that took over before she had finished, and a glint of
moisture came into Naamah’s eyes and she said, True?
And Lilith nodded and said, Yes.
To this, and from beside Naamah, who now frowned but kept her gaze on her and steady,
Eisheth said sweetly, It is the thought itself that concerns us, my sister, it is a confusing thing,
and for whatever reason it occurred to you, it is for that reason we are here to listen, because you
are us and we are you.
And Lilith said, I know I am, I know it worries you, but how can I ignore such a thought?
It is unthinkable, said Naamah.
Unthinkable, asked Lilith.
Yes, said Naamah.
And Lilith said, Yet I thought it, and I think it, and so do you, dear sister.
It betrays you, pleaded Naamah and she came closer and said, It is a violation, my sister, and
for all we know we have never thought it before because it is meaningless, and we cannot
understand it so it must be something mad and false, and if it has taken you it will make you
someone else and turn you away from what it good and right, and we are here to help you, we
will do it together.
And Lilith remained where she stood, her smile and laughter faded, and she let Naamah
come unto her and take her arm in her hand and she looked unto her sister’s moist eyes and in
them she saw a fear she did not know, yet in the color of them she saw a curiosity like that which
she had felt when she had first thought it and it was as if her sister were pleading with her to tell
her no, there is nothing to fear, it is wonderful and it must mean something and it must be
something good, yet the fear was in her and in Eisheth and Igrat as well, and it was great.
So Lilith said, How will it change me, for this is who I am, I have always been myself, as I
am now.
It is then that Naamah’s hand fell from her sister’s arm and the frowns in their other sisters
grew, and Lilith left them as they were.