Dei Ex Machina by Kim Fielding

Author:Kim Fielding [Fielding, Kim]
Language: eng
Format: azw3
Published: 2020-04-13T16:00:00+00:00

7

The ghost floundered in the pit for an eternity. He’d been torn apart somehow and couldn’t remember even enough to put himself back together. Maybe this is hell, he thought vaguely. He’d heard the Christians preach about it enough times. Had he really been so evil as to deserve this? He couldn’t remember that either.

But even as he screamed and flailed, an image came to him. Stone. Big and solid, weathering over the years but enduring. Shaped by time, by water, by human tools, yet always strong. Yes, stone. He thought very hard about it, and eventually he could feel it between his nonexistent hands. He’d held stone many times before, he realized. He’d carved it, carried it, placed it.

He’d been a mason.

The memory brought an enormous rush of relief—he’d feared he’d never find himself again. His name was Sabbio and he had been a mason. But even as he grasped that precious knowledge, he remembered something else. Another mason. No, a man named Mason. Who was sad and lovely, who’d welcomed Sabbio into his dream and held him, who’d lavished Sabbio’s body with so much care, he’d almost felt alive.

Sabbio mentally transformed a stone into a ladder, and he used it to climb out of the abyss.

He emerged not near the edge of the palace as usual, but in a small room illuminated only by the glowing numbers of a clock. He’d been in the room before. And that sleeping figure huddled under the blanket—oh, gods, that was Mason. He was still here.

Sabbio settled himself on the bed where he could see Mason’s face. He was thankful his ghostly eyesight was better than it had been when he was alive. Mason’s even breathing soothed him, and the memory of what those full lips had done to his body made Sabbio feel warm. He wished he could sit there forever, just watching. But lives were so fleeting. And Mason surely didn’t live in Split. He’d be gone in the blink of an eye.

One more chance, Sabbio thought. It wouldn’t be enough, but it would have to suffice. Just a few more stolen minutes.

He reached out—and then fell into Mason’s dreams.

He found himself somewhere unfamiliar. A wooden fence surrounded him on three sides, while the white stucco wall of a house encompassed the fourth. The ground was nothing but fine dirt spotted with a few scraggly weeds. Overhead, the sky was vivid blue. Mason stood several paces away, naked, his back to Sabbio. He was a little too thin, Sabbio thought, but very fine nonetheless, all long limbs and wiry muscle.

Sabbio made a soft noise, and Mason whirled around. “You’re here!” Mason exclaimed. He rushed forward and grasped Sabbio’s shoulders. “I didn’t know if I’d see you again.”

Grinning at being welcomed—being wanted—Sabbio settled his hands on Mason’s waist. “You are not angry that I visit you?”

“No! But…. Jesus. You seem so real. Look! You left bruises.” He looked pointedly at his shoulder and hip, where fingerprints had turned the skin purple.

“I am sorry! I did not mean to hurt you.

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