belong to Mr. D. So maybe he's not as in the dark as we believe.
I'd seen Morrigan form an inkling once, at a party. He was charming then as usual. We were talking about tatts, comparing our ink. My cherub had gotten a few appreciative comments, newly cut. Then Morrigan, one never to be outdone, had said, 'That's a fine tattoo, boy, but can you do this?'
He'd pulled up his sleeve to the first Escheresque tangle of sparrows that ran from his sinewy biceps and over his back. He whistled then, a shrill, short note, and a bird pulled free of his flesh. 'Inklings are quite simple once you get the hang of it.'
The sparrow flew around the room, picking up snacks and bringing them back to him.
It had appeared effortless, until I saw him later, coming out of the bathroom. He'd been a bit shaky on his feet. I could smell the sweat on him, even over his cologne. I didn't want him to have a stroke, still, I'd respected his pride and just quietly helped him to a chair. If only I had known what it would come to… Well, I would have kicked the legs out from under him.
That had been one sparrow, now we had seen tens of them. And he was using them to pomp the dead. Don was right, Morrigan's powers had increased incredibly.
18
So what do we do?' I ask, staring at the ink-stained ground. 'I can't see how I can keep you safe.'
'First we're going to need cover,' Lissa says, and heads back toward the hospital car park. I follow, hurrying to keep pace.
'You're going to have to bind me to you and this realm,' Lissa says.
'I'm unfamiliar with the process. I've heard of bindings, but never seen it done.'
'There's a reason for that. OK, a couple of them, the first being that it's old. You wouldn't have come across it unless you're particularly interested in the history of pomping. And there really isn't much written about Pomps. It takes quite a bit of research.' Lissa smiles, a little too mockingly for my liking. 'And, no offense, you don't exactly strike me as the studious type.'
I take immediate offense at that. 'Morrigan never exactly encouraged it.'
Lissa nods. 'Well, we know why now. Anyway, people don't talk about this stuff, in the specific. You have to really dig. The process is… It's a little confronting.' She flashes me another smile. 'But if we don't do it, I'm worried that Morrigan will pomp me, and you need me.' She's so right, but I rail against that a little. She can see it in my face, and her laugh is both affectionate and mocking. 'Don't you try and suggest otherwise, laddy.'
We're under the cover of the car park. 'OK, so how do I do it? How do I bind you? It sounds pretty kinky, you know.'
Lissa reddens, just a little, and I get the feeling that she's more embarrassed for me than anything else. 'Well, it sort of is.'
'What do you mean?'
'Most of these types of ceremonies involve blood, but in this case that's not enough, because you're not pomping, you're binding.' Her eyes seem to be having trouble meeting mine. 'You're going to need semen. Your own semen.'
'Here?' I turn in a quick circle. There's no one about, but this is a car park. Of course I'm sure there's been plenty of that here, but not mine. 'I'm supposed to-'
'This is no time to be squeamish, or prudish,' Lissa says impatiently. 'There might be a whole flock of bloody sparrows on their way.'
'Pressured is the word that comes to mind, actually.'
'Performance anxiety, eh? Well, I'm dead, it'll be our little secret. Besides, I've already seen you naked.'
'Well, there's naked and then there's naked.' I am utterly exposed out here, and it's cold. The odds of me being able to ejaculate are pretty grim. Lissa leers at me. That doesn't help.
She rubs her hands together. 'Well? Pants down, prong up.'
'Could you look away?'
'I'll look away,' she says. 'Just think about some of those busty trollops and you'll be OK.'
Wicked woman!
There's got to be cameras around here somewhere. I imagine the image as I, um-present-another addition to the caseload against me.
'Hurry up,' Lissa hisses at me. 'I can hear a car coming.'
OK, deep breaths: a half dozen of them. I know that I have to do this, that there's nothing else to be done, but I'm feeling very peculiar about it. In fact, I'm feeling very dirty-old-mannish. Friction isn't enough. Nor is strength of will.
It has to be done. It has to be done.
And it is. And at the moment of ejaculation, a quick hard orgasm, I see Lissa's face.
I open my eyes, and I'm looking into Lissa's face. Oh. My. God.
'You were supposed to look the other way,' I grumble, my face burning.
'Good work,' she says, ignoring me, though she seems a bit flushed, too.
I've got the semen in a handkerchief. I'm not sure if I've ever been more embarrassed in my life.
'Can I have a look at your, um, handiwork?'
I comply, careful to keep my distance.
She frowns, looks like she's doing maths in her head. I'm not exactly sure how the dead perceive the world but she couldn't possibly be counting the little swimmers. 'That should be enough.'
'It better be.'
The car drives slowly past. I give it a wave. Nothing to see here, now.
19
Crouching down like some maniacal Gollumesque creature, I scrape with a stone the Four Binding Elements (as Lissa called them), basically four triangles, each containing a circle on the cement of the footpath. Lissa stands in the middle of my esoteric squiggling.
'You need a drop of your doings for the center of each circle,' Lissa says.
I mark each one, then step back.
'Now, look at me. We need eye contact, and total concentration.'
I take a deep breath and gaze at her. It's not gazing, it's grazing, I hunger for her stare. I could look into those eyes forever, they are a fire in my chest and in my stomach. Lissa holds my gaze. I don't know how long we stand that way; it's intense but pleasurable, how my orgasm should have been. The air around us pushes in. I feel the weight of all that sky, and I am bound in a kind of leaden warmth. And then it bursts. The pressure is gone in an instant. And it's just me and Lissa, and the car park. The air is cold. I let out a breath.
Lissa stumbles back from the circle of triangles, her eyes wide. She looks at me, her lips moving soundlessly. Whatever moment we shared has passed. She smiles. 'Well, you've bound me. I cannot be pomped on this plane, except by an RM, and we haven't seen too many of those about lately, have we? It won't last forever, but for the next few days it should do.'
A few days are probably all I have, anyway, though I keep that thought to myself. I've already shared far too much with Lissa in the last half-hour.
She winks. 'Naughty, isn't it?'
'Easier than I thought,' I say.
'Well, I was thinking that about you,' Lissa says.
'So what do we do now, have a cigarette?' I'm shaking a bit, my face is still burning with the intimacy of the ceremony.
'If only… but what we have to do is get you out of Brisbane. We need time to think. To get Morrigan on the
