Chapter twenty-three:a


The Celestial fought her way to the surface.

Choking and coughing up foul water from her drowning lungs.

Every single feather which hadn't been plucked or ripped from her wings cried out individually with ache.

Hope plummeted when a quick look around showed no end in sight, to what the Bridge had suggested was a brief swim to other side of the lake.

Her arms burned with with every sluggish stroke; the leaden weight of her sword was the weight of the world on Atlas's shoulders. Still the weapon proved no less deadly. With every lethargic swing it cleaved heads from shoulders, severed arms and split skulls in two.

Of Course, Miranda seethed inwardly, there had been no mention that the lake might enlarge itself to the size of the widest part of the English Channel.

Her water logged legs kicked out at the slimy hands clawing and grasping at her in attempts to pull her under again. In this alone the murky and oily water was her ally, making her flesh slippery less able to firmly clutch.

And neither had there been even a small helpful hint that the lake was teeming with schools of rotting undead and zombie-like water dwellers with a hunger for anything ... not undead.

This was not exactly what she'd pictured when the Bridge had mentioned a necessary baptism by water.

She swam, forced her body onward, fighting until she was near the point of letting the water-dwellers pull her under.

Finally heaving her body onto the shore, the Celestial flopped over onto her back. She kicked out with venom and disgust at one last straggler clutching onto her right ankle, dragging her back towards the water. Her left foot broke through rotted flesh and skull.

"Oh god!"

The Celestial gagged.

She snatched her foot back, stomach churning from smell and sight.

Maggots poured from the crushed head and then slithered back into the water. The Celestial lunged to hands and knees and wretched. Her body heaved, lurching with every violent expulsion of bile coercing turbulent flutters from her battered and water-beaten wings.

When there was nothing left save her own internal organs to spew to the ground, her stomach ceased its riotous tremors.

She snorted with self-derision at her thus far piteous rescue attempt. She'd been trampled by a giant. Barely escaped being skinned alive by cannibalistic satyr. Miranda hissed at that particular memory. Her left thigh still burned from the missing strip of flesh. And she had nearly drowned in the lake of undead.  

"It would appear," she whispered miserable, head bowed low, "I make a rather piss poor, Celestial, Andréa."

"Well," the mocking voice returned, sending tension along the Celestial's exhausted frame, "aren't you the humble champion of the day?"

She stared with fury at the feet tapping in front of her with impatience. Miranda stared up the length of the familiar body to the much adored face with the stranger's eyes.

"Come along Jonah."

Too exhausted to speak, the Celestial heaved herself from the ground. She stumbled along after the Bridge, dragging her sword down at her side, the tip scraping the ground. She was doubtful she'd ever be able to lift the weapon again.

"Well you certainly took your time."

"Took my ..." Miranda gaped at her disagreeable companion with outraged. "Those things," she panted from exertion, "were trying," she continued after several shallow breaths. "to kill me!" She mustered the energy to snarl.

"Those things?" The Bridge narrowed her eyes. "Will you ever see past your own vague but vain image in the window pane, Miranda? We are seldom as ugly to anyone as we are to ourselves. This world is a reflection. Nothing more than a distorted reflection in a fun house mirror."

"Oh yes," Miranda sneered, her tone scathing, her second wind returning as she now kept pace with her infuriating guide, "Because it's been all about the fun since I arrived here."

"There is none. so blind as those. Who will not see¹.  Do you still not get it? This," The Bridge gestured with open arms, "is her. It's all her. Everything you see here."

"Get it!?" Miranda trembled with anger. Energy returned under the full steam of frustration. "No. Apparently I do not get. It." Miranda stabbed the ground with her sword. "I do not get how I am here? I do not even get how Andréa can be here. And I absolutely do not get how Andréa can be an entire world." She sheathed her sword feeling a little too tempted to carve that bored expression off the Bridge's face. "So why don't you enlighten me."

"A soul with nowhere to go can only retreat into itself."

Miranda stared at the Bridge, comprehension stealing over her.

"I thought," her voice broke—she swallowed the ugly burn of her next words, "I thought she'd be returned to hell."

"Well I wouldn't call this place paradise." The Bridge sneered. "But if you mean Lochases's hell... well she'd have to be dead first. And there's only two ways for that to happen. Her life force reverts to Lochases's possession or for her body to be completely destroyed. Which would completely divorce soul and spirit from form. She'd die," the Bridge shrugged. "but Dominion...not so much..."

"I saw her die." Miranda rebutted. "I saw. Caroline. The dagger..."

"The dagger... the dagger..." The Bridge mocked, "You're as ignorant as Lochases." She rolled her eyes and then stopped walking. "So," she eyed the Celestial with impatience "are you going in or not?"

"Going in?" Miranda frowned as she pulled up short beside her companion. "Going in where?"

"There." The Bridge waved her right hand. "You wanted to find her."

The mouth of the cave formed to their left. The Celestial's chin dropped. Her eyes bulged at the wall of flame blocking the entrance.

She whipped around, eyes growing even larger as they stabbed at the Bridge with an incredulous glare. "Are you insane?"

The Bridge shook her head. "Consider it a test."

"A test." Miranda's voice lowered with a deadly tremor. "A test of what exactly?"

"The purity of your intentions." The Bridge arched a brow, her full lips twisting into a smirk. "What's truly in your heart? Do you love her?"

The Celestial's lips thinned.

"It's not a trick question, Celestial. Either you love her or you don't."

"I'm here aren't I?" Miranda snapped.

"No." The Bridged dismissed that sidestep of an answer. "Do not mistake me." The Bridge circled around her. "You'll say you do. Maybe some misguided part of you actually believes it." The Bridge's expression hardened. "But this is the big question, Miranda Priestly, with tiny details, and neither the big lie nor the small lie will wash here? Do you love Her? All of her. For what and who she is? For what and who she has been? For what and who she will become?"

"I..." the Celestial faltered. Her heart was racing. She looked to the wall flames.

"I'm sorry Miranda." The Bridged smiled mockingly, "Did I give you the mistaken impression the question was multiple choice?"

"I love her. In all of my existence, I believed I loved my brother. I was sure that I loved my children. But I know that I love her."

"Well then," The Bridge extended a hand towards the the fire, "you have you nothing to worry about."

Miranda regarded the wall with skepticism. "What's the catch?"

The Bridge gave a pained sigh, "If you truly love her." She flapped her arms in frustration. "Then you'll be able to pass right through. But I suggest you do it quickly."

Miranda swallowed. She glanced at the Bridge who merely smiled benevolently. The Celestial narrowed her eyes at the suspect gesture.

"By all means, Celestial, move at a glacial pace." The Bridge taunted, "It's not as if the world might soon be ending."

"Shut. Up." Miranda confronted the wall of fire, heart fluttering with fear. "I love her," she whispered. "I love you."

With a leap of faith, she stepped into the fire.

And screamed.

She fell through to the inside of the cave, rolling frantically on the floor smothering the flames. Her flesh a blistered pulp beyond recognition, previously damaged wings were now, husks, charred remnants of what they had been.

Ugh...

"Ah." the Bridge greeted cheerfully. "There you are." She grimaced at the sight of the charred flesh, "Ooh," but her eyes sparkled with dark amusement. "That's a nasty tan."

A pained sob escaped the Celestial's lips, "You said..."

The Bridge offered a sheepish smile. "Yeah, about that," She held her thumb and index finger up giving a four inch space between them. "That might have been a small lie."

"I will kill you." Miranda choked out the enraged threat.

"Careful, Celestial," the Bridge warned, "you're in no position to be burning any bridges. And besides," She shrugged, "technically it wasn't much of a lie."

Miranda grunted.

The Bridge rebutted "I said you had nothing to worry about and seeing as you're still here, that wasn't far from the mark. I also said that you'd pass right through. And you did." She shrugged again. "And well I guess now we know it's the truth, probably one of the few you've ever told."

"The truth?" The Celestial rasped out, afraid to move.

"You love her. And you love her so much that..." The Bridge spoke solemnly. She reached down and grabbed a blistered and sticky bicep. Miranda screamed as the Bridged unkindly pulled her to her feet. "...You believed that love was strong enough to save you."

Miranda gritted her teeth through the pain. It was only through the Bridge's support Miranda remained upright. "Obviously it wasn't." Her tone soft, toneless. Doubt squeezed the wound in her heart.

"If that were true you'd still be in there." The Bridge shuddered. "Wouldn't have been pretty. It wasn't the last time." She studied Miranda as though she'd never seen her before. "You have changed this time..." Her brow furrowed. "Huh, I wonder why that is?"

"Wha..."

"You really love her."

"Why else," the Celestial scoffed "would I put myself through..."

"You'd be surprised," the Bridge's expression darkened and then she studied Miranda again speculatively. "You musn't tell her yet."

"What?" Miranda frowned, now that she'd admitted it aloud to someone, she wanted nothing more than to be able to say the words to Andréa herself. "Why?"

"You'll know when it's time." She let the Celestial stand on her own power.

"You'll know because when the time comes you'll be desperate for her to know and understand." Stepping back she averted her eyes as Miranda was engulfed in a halo of blinding white.

"You won't be able to hold it back because telling her will be the only thing makes sense at the moment, the only thing that feels like salvation." Miranda gasped as a joyous warmth spread through her.

"It will be the only truth in a moment filled with lies." The light faded and Miranda stared at the Bridge who smiling mysteriously, turned back to look upon the Celestial's glory. "Fire is a curious thing." The Bridge commented absently. "How do you feel?"

"I don't know." the Celestial whispered... "Different." Weightless, buoyant. Untainted.

"Hold on to that while you can. You'll need it. But it won't stay with you?"

"Why?" Miranda frowned.

"Because this is not all of who you are. And sooner or later you have to go back. And when you do what you are now will be greatly diminished. So that what you will be can be greatly increased."

"What I am now?" The Celestial spread her wings testing their healing. They glowed, haloed in white light.

"Uhm ...purified." The Bridge stared at her as though the Celestial had suddenly grown a little short on intelligence. "You know... the whole purpose of the fire thing."

Miranda stared at the Bridge. The overwhelming urge to punch in that face until it bore no resemblance at all to her lover, the Celestial's opinion, seemed to negate that whole purified theory.

But the Bridge smiled suddenly, genuine and with warmth and Miranda felt her heart break at the familiarity.

"You seem different." The Celestial's voice was gruff when she spoke.

The Bridge's expression softened further. "Love covers a multitude of sins. We're closer to you heart's desire." She looked away as though having heard something denied to Miranda's ears. "You should go now." She pointed behind Miranda. "That way. If you're lucky," She regarded the Celestial solemnly, "we'll never meet again. Not like this."

"And if we do?" The Celestial arched a brow in curiosity.

"Then we'll both know you'll have failed." She smiled sweetly and then cheerfully added. "And I'll probably kill you." The Bridge turned away. "And Miranda. Mind you, this is only a suggestion," she spoke without looking back, "but you might want to draw your sword. Right. About. Now."

Miranda's eyes widened taking her sword in her hand she spun around held it up just in time too stave off the strike intended for her head. Her eyes narrowed as more and more demons poured from the direction the Bridge had suggested she followed.

"Of course, she couldn't have mentioned," She grunted as she danced back avoided a slash to the gut and then drove her sword into a demon's heart, "I'd have to fight the legions of hell from this point."


Andy lie a broken canvas of flesh and bones.

She covered her face with her torn palms, at the sounds of fist pounding against flesh, and the clang of metal and steel and against steel.

The bottom of the cage was cold and in stark contrast to the constant blast of heat washing over her.

Fighting. Someone was fighting. Her breath hitched.

She coughed, blood spraying from her mouth.

The cacophony outside the cage was faint but getting closer and pulled tight at the large knots in her gut.

Whoever it was. Whatever it was, they were strong, really strong and that mean soon... Andy whimpered, sobbed.

I can't... not so soon. I can't.

Andy's body wrenched into such a painful spasm, muscles clenched with tension hard against bone with almost breaking force.

The fighting ceased. And there was no relief to be found in the silence that followed.

She grieved the lack of immortal death; she could not endure this for an eternity.

Andy shuddered and imagined true peace, one offered by Lochases. He could make it happen: a death more permanent than that which had been afforded her in the past—absent of body and mind, absolute.

"Absent of body and mind, absolute." Like a prayer the words formed on her lips, "Divorced of sou..."

"Don't say that!" A voice sharp with panic, demanded heatedly from outside her prison bars. "Don't even think it."

The cage door swung open with jarring violence.

Andy's heart fluttered wildly, beneath the ravaged strips of flesh that had been her chest. A frightened mewl escaped Andy's lips.

"Please." She mouthed voiceless. "Please not again."

She curled into whimpering fetal ball. Please. No. Terror rocketed through her spine. Again, she covered her face with a bloody palm like a child convinced if she could not see the world then it could not see her.

Not again please. Her eyes already swollen from tears pooled again. Please not again.

"Andréa. What have you done to yourself?" The voice, infused with gentle kindness and remorse seemed familiar.

Feeling presence draw near, she cringed, a bowstring drawn taut, its arrow tipped with the poison of fear. Her muscles rippled as though flesh and sinew and bone were desperate to escape the damaged skin housing them.

A hand landed lightly on her shoulder. The wail of terror pushed past her lips. She jerked in place, too weakened to move away.

Please don't. Please don't.

"Why are you here?"

Andy shuddered, at the question; her breath rattled as it escaped dry, cracked lips. The hand on her shoulder, the light palm spreading coolness from tips of fingers ... neither gripped, squeezed nor yanked her from the cage floor.

"I've been very bad." Andy whispered in reply. "It never did rain for forty days and nights, but the earth did drown in the blood of the slain." Another hand moved to cover her own; "And I bathed in it. I drank and yet could never slake that thirst. I devoured countless souls and yet constantly hungered." Cool fingers gently pried her hands from her face. "I am the face," Andy spoke with bitter self-recrimination "of vengeance and justice gone awry."

"We are all of a constant hunger for that we which we do not have." The words, soft and light were like an offering of absolution. "Andréa. This is not where you are meant to be."

A soft hand slid beneath her chin, lifted her bowed head gently, the touch as light as air itself.

The other hand cradling her back, gently urge her to look up.

Andy's gazed upon the feet sandal-shod in purity, unsoiled by the filth of the cage, the muscular calves golden tan, and well tone thighs partially sheathed in a cloth of silken white, crouched before her. Her timid exploration continued up the flat stomach, the curve of hips and the slender waist hour glassing upward to the outer swells of round breasts with dark pink areoli and nipples.

The arms were toned, but softly feminine, the shoulders delicate, the neck slender; thin lips were pursed into a benevolent smile and the prominent nose flared as pale blue eyes studied her intently and with a tenderness that made Andy ache inside.

"Where else but here?" Andy finally replied. The weight of remembered sins too numerous to count pressed in on her. Crushed her beneath the unbearable rubble of guilt.

"I see." the woman swathed in glory whispered, "But you do know this isn't real, Andréa. This place, this hell in between worlds, the world of your weaving. You can leave anytime."

"It feels real." She whispered bitterly.

"As real as you feel you deserve."

Hair of lustrous blonde waves fell lazily feathering back from a face of austere beauty; a delicate kiss of locks fell over a left brow.

Like the voice, the face was so heart-wrenchingly familiar.

"Miranda?"

"I see this place hasn't completely dulled your wits."

Andy felt awed by the perfection squatting in filth before her... the serene aura crowning the woman's body with divine glory.

Andy lowered her head, bowing it.

"No." the Celestial whispered. "Allow me."

She observed, stunned. The woman stood, took two steps back and sweeping the train of her white gown over her left arm, she bowed.

Andy shivered. "Miranda Priestly bows to no one."

"True." The woman straightened and looked at Andy with a wicked grin which belied her celestial aura. "But you are not just anyone. Are you?"

The Celestial extended her hands, the fingers slender and delicate. She waited patiently.

"Why are you here?" It was Andy's turn to ask.

"You rescued me from hell, Andréa. Did you truly think I would not do the same for you?"

"I don't deser—"

"Oh please," The Celestial cut her off, "let's not argue the semantics and philosophy of guilt," Miranda rolled her eyes. "It promises to be a very confusing and dull conversation, one for which we don't have the time."

"Why?"

"We're in trouble, Darling." Her brow knitted conveying the seriousness of her statement. "And you cannot hide here forever."

Andy stared waiting for the trick. This image of Miranda would fade, and in her place would be some hideous demon with an audience of peers, laughing and jeering at her desperate vulnerability.

"If you can not trust your eyes, Andréa, trust your heart."

Breathing shallowly, Andy closed her eyes. And sighed as warmth rushed over her... that near tangible sensation of the link pulsed powerfully, thrummed through her over her.

Of all images the others might have chosen of Miranda to ensnare her, this was an image they would have never touched. An image Andy had never seen.

When she opened her eyes the vision remained, hand outstretched, a brow arched expectantly.

Andy reached out a trembling hand laid it in the waiting palm and watched the delicate fingers curl around her own, making her feel whole, clean.

She was pulled gently to her feet. The flames of hell crumbled away. And they were standing in the living-room, a reflection of her small apartment.

Andy turned to her saviour.

It was an odd, weightless feeling having fear, agony and despair suddenly slide away like a bead of water down a duck's back. Bones re-knitted; ripped flesh closed as though there had never been a wound through which blood had spill.

"How are you doing this?" Andy whispered overwhelmed, grateful.

"I'm not. You are." Miranda glanced away and shook her head. "I'm merely a catalyst. Odd how that seems to be the role I find myself relegated to these days." Miranda's distant expression faded under warmth and concern, her hands moving to rest on Andy's shoulder. "Feel better?"

Andy nodded but recognized with mild trepidation that the heat and hunger she normally felt from Miranda, in her blue form and even the human form was subdued, with this aspect of half-breed; she did feel familiarity, even tenderness.

"You're not exactly what I expected?" Andy couldn't help but voice.

She watched the blue eyes narrow.

"You were expecting something in blue?"

"And taller."

The woman smirked.

"I'm not opposed to blue." the Celestial smiled, "But I'm afraid I left my bitter half behind."

Bemused Andy frowned ... and then slowly understanding dawned.

"You're incomplete."

"Listen to me." The Celestial nodded. "We must get you back. Dominion is waking. And even if your fleshly vessel was destroyed it would only catapult Dominion into another sleep until another vessel was found and chosen. One who might lack your strength and courage."

Andy drew back from the woman.

"Is that why you're here?" Her expression; wounded as she accused, "The demon half of Miranda wanted to use me for her own gain. And now you just want to use me to save the world?"

"No." The Celestial frowned. "Andréa, I lo... I came looking for you because I want you back." The Celestial closed her eyes and glanced away. "We made a deal."

"I don't believe that." Andy shook her head. "The other half of you might have charged in here all fists and glory. Demons are very particular and passionate about their possessions. But Celestials? You're neutral beings. You only step in upon requests. You're incapable of passion."

"It would seem that way, wouldn't it?" The Celestial grinned." But it isn't so. I am very passionate, about you." Her voice lowered huskily. Andy felt her hear flutter at the admission. "I am the half-breed's reason. And yet I lost mine the moment I first saw you. I'm that little bit of conscience trickling inside her that she tries so hard to disregard in her pursuit of perfection and power at any cost. And yet when I saw you, I became the reason she shirked duty and saw beyond what others wanted ... needed and chose for herself. I egged her on to hold on to you for power's sake, in order that I might find a way keep you for myself."

"That's not possible." Andy whispered.

"But it is." Miranda grabbed the young woman by the shoulders and held tight. "This is not all of me, Andréa. Purified now, in this moment I am compelled to be as honest as I can. I was not born in glory, but in sin." Miranda's face darkened. "I wanted to own you. I wanted you, to wield as a threat against those who look upon me as a taint and threaten my existence."

"Stop." Andy attempted to shrug off the Celestial's grip, but Miranda held firm.

"I hated you." The Celestial whispered, "And yet in this human form you wear, I found myself attracted to you Andréa Sachs as I have been to no other."

"Hated?" Andy whispered hoarsely, eyes widening with dread. "Why?"

"You slaughtered..." The Celestial's eyes teared and she dragged a deep breath into her lungs, "I am older than you might assume." Her fingers dug into Andy's shoulder enough to cause the woman to wince. "I was a child. I was there." She kept her gave averted, spoke through clenched teeth. "I was there when you butchered my mother and father." She snatched her hands away and put distance between them.

"Oh my god." Andy's mouth fell open. She stumbled back, clapped her hand over her lips. Oh god.

Miranda pressed her hands down upon the kitchen counter as though needing the support. The weight of that admission, tainted the air between them with suffocating silence. The Celestial took several shuddering breaths as though she had held this truth in so long speaking it out loud threatened an explosion of anguish.

"I hated you and yet revered you." Miranda pressed on, voice devoid of inflection. "The very essence of your nature demands that reverence."

The Celestial turned back and Andy thought her heart would break from her chest from seeing those perfect silver tears spilling down those golden cheeks.

"You were purposely steered in my direction. But there was not yet sign of Dominion's awakening. My duty was to be a guardian, to bind myself to you eternally as a servant, a guard dog. To prevent the unthinkable. As you now know or may have guessed, the possessor of your soul holds the power over Dominion.

And it was given that no one was to try such a thing. No one rational would.

But I did. I tried to break you, in my own way. Bend you to my will but you were so stubborn. Your soul so strong, that I found myself... in—intrigue by this seemingly weak vessel who'd been chosen to bear the spirit of the most feared and revered immortal ever to curse the universe with its existence. Intrigue became attraction and lust..."

The Celestial seemed to diminish.

"And Lochases used my own greed and single-mindedness to blindside me." She met Andréa's eyes with sorrow. "I lost my children. My freedom, my power. I lost you."

She crossed the space between them and knelt before the young woman. Gazing up at Andy with repentance in blue eyes.

"I ask that you forgive me."

Andy swallowed. It felt as though the air had been sucked from her lungs. She wasn't sure which emotion to hold on to. Remorse and grief. Anger and fury. Sorrow an guilt.

She studied the plains of the face looking up at her beseechingly. That open expression devoid of hidden agenda. The purity of the Celestial's essence shone so brightly through those eyes it was almost painful to hold her gaze.

"Do you still hate me?"

"No I..." fresh tears pooled in those blue eyes. "I don't. Not now."

"But you hate Dominion?" Andy swallowed thickly.

"My demon half..." the Celestial sighed. "She wants to—holds onto it. Even though she knowing the truth she still rebels against it."

"Truth?"

The Celestial seemed to weigh her words before speaking them. "You and Dominion, Andréa. You are not separate. There is only the body, the soul and conscience, and the spirit." Miranda's face brightened with a beatific smiled. "I forgive you."

Andy sobbed, lifting her fingers to caress along the smooth cheek. Miranda leaned into the touch as though starved for it.

"Will you do the same for me?"

"Yes." Andy smiled. She leaned forward and kissed the Celestial with fervor smiling at the end of the kiss when she felt that spike of arousal which had been missing earlier. "So," Andy teased. "That's how you were gonna use me?"

"I tried not to," The Celestial whispered. "The moment you walked into my office, all school girl and innocence. The moment I recognized what I wanted..." Miranda closed her eyes. "I know my weaknesses, Andréa. I did try, even if half-hearted, to drive you away. Several times..."

"Obviously not hard enough." Andy chuckled.

"Perhaps we should raise the issue of your refusal to be driven away." The Celestial's smile became embittered. "Eventually I succeeded."

"Why you?" Andy asked as the Celestial rose to her feet. "Why did they choose you for this?"

"Who else?" Miranda snorted. "The powers that be, consider themselves above the pedestrian task of babysitting" She looked away frowning with displeasure. "And Lochases had a great deal to do with why I was chosen. I suspect he's been laying in wait for a long time."

"He knew you were to proud to actually bind yourself to me in service."

"Yes." the Celestial nodded. "I wish we had more time to talk. But we've wasted time as it is." She sighed. "Lochases is resourceful. And soon enough," The Celestial eyes widened; she gasped as though choking and then clutched at her throat with her left hand. "he'll find you," she wheezed. 

"And I think," Miranda stumbled, her eyes losing their luster, "you're about to kill me."



1: Adaptation of a Jonathan Swift quote

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