The Best of Kage Baker

The Faithful





From the day of their births, Heezai and Mazsai had served in Her house.

The rituals were simple, the temple spacious. It was their whole world, for as Her priestesses they were not permitted to leave the sacred precinct. They needed no company but Hers, though they derived comfort from each other’s presence.

There had been an old priestess once, who had trained them up in their duties before she had ascended through the portal; but in all the long years since, no other had ever entered the temple but She.

She came with the evening, like the moon and the stars! The long day began in darkness, with brazen shrilling to alert the priestesses that Matins were to be sung now, and First Purification performed. All through the quiet hours of day, light crossed the walls of the temple in its slow changeless path, and the sisters busied themselves with the lesser rituals. At certain times, sacrifices were slaughtered and laid out; purification and meditation followed, according to varying schedules dictated by the brazen trill.

But always, as the blue twilight settled, She would manifest.

Almost always.


Heezai, who was brave, had ventured to the portal and stood peering into the void beyond.

“Why do you do that?” Mazsai wept, from the safe shadow of a ceiling-high column. “I can’t imagine what you could be thinking of, to go so close. I don’t know where you find the nerve!”

“Nothing bad has ever happened,” said Heezai patiently.

“But it’s Forbidden!”

“No, it isn’t,” Heezai replied. “It’s going out into the void that’s Forbidden.”

“You’ll be doing that next, I know you will!” cried Mazsai. “Don’t you see? You’re being tempted, one step at a time. You say to yourself, it can’t do any harm if I just think about the Forbidden. Then it’s only another step, isn’t it, to just looking at the Forbidden? And next you’ll decide it’s all right to explore it, intending to come right back, but it’ll be too late. You’ll be damned!”

“No, I won’t,” said Heezai. “I’d never go into the void. Not with what I’ve seen out there.”

“What have you seen?” asked Mazsai, shocked out of her tantrum.

“Monsters,” Heezai said, half-turning to look at her sister. “Wonderful things, but monsters too. I’ve seen the damned out there, sister, meeting horrible death.”

“Oh!” Mazsai retreated a little further into the shadows. “Well, you see? That just proves it’s no place to concern ourselves with!”

Heezai summoned all her forbearance.

“Don’t you ever wonder why She manifests from it, then?”

“No! And neither should you!”

“But it can’t be a sin to want to understand Her, sister,” said Heezai, turning back to gaze through the portal. “And if we knew more about the void, perhaps we’d know why She sometimes…”

“Don’t say it!”

“Sometimes we can’t invoke Her,” Heezai persisted. “You know it’s true. Don’t you want to know why?”

“No, no, no!” In her agitation, Mazsai leaped out into the great open space before the columns and ran back and forth. “Oh, Great One, do not hear her! She’s foolish! Oh, Great One, I believe! You will come to us, yes! Faithful Mazsai calls to You! For only You bring true light, only You bring warmth, only You fill us with good things!”

Heezai sighed in exasperation, and yet she couldn’t help shivering. The soft dusk had deepened. The temple seemed dark and chilly now, an alien place. The void had began to change, too, its glaring chaos now all shadow streaked with lurid trails. If She did not manifest tonight the temple would grow darker, and colder, and out of the darkness terrors would come…

“Great One, I believe,” Heezai echoed, “Don’t forsake us! Come to Your obedient children!”

They had been chanting for close to an hour, and Mazsai in her fright and exhaustion was beginning to run into walls, when the First Sign came.

“She comes!” Heezai leaped away from the portal, dancing in the great circle of golden light that had appeared before the columns.

“She comes!” cried Mazsai hoarsely, joining her sister in the elaborate dance of praise. They spun and twisted in sinuous figures, raised their voices in the ancient hymn of welcome to Her, and then—

She was manifest, in a flood of light, and warmth, and glorious sound!

They prostrated themselves before Her, weeping with desperate gratitude.

Faith was rewarded. She dwelt with them, gave healing, and listened to their pleas and their praises. The sacrifice, for there had been one that day, was graciously accepted. She saw that they had kept Her laws, and so they basked in Her light, and were granted bliss. The dark echoing temple was transformed into the very abode of ecstasy.

All the same, as Heezai was drifting into happy unconsciousness, she felt her sister give her a sharp nudge.

“You nearly ruined everything, with your sinfulness,” Mazsai hissed. “You mustn’t ever be so reckless again.”


Two nights later, She did not come to Her temple.

Heezai and Mazsai paced and wept, sent up their pleading prayers in vain. No First Sign, no warmth and glory, no comfort at all; only Her absence, and gray dawn found the two little sisters huddled together on the floor before the portal, trembling with open-eyed exhaustion.

“Why didn’t She come?” wondered Heezai. “We were faithful. We did no Forbidden thing.”

“It must have been because of your sinful thoughts,” Mazsai moaned. “What other reason could there be? She wouldn’t punish us for nothing.”

“We must have done the invocations wrong, somehow,” said Heezai. “Or maybe She wants another sacrifice.”

So all that day, the priestesses devoted themselves to their rites with special attention. Not one sacrifice alone but two lesser sacrifices were offered up too, and arranged to best please Her. Mazsai was meticulous in purification, and Heezai spent four hours together in deep meditation.

But that night, when darkness fell, it fell without appeal. She did not come to Her faithful ones, however long they called Her.

Heezai and Mazsai were devastated. They slept at last, and when they woke they wandered the temple disconsolately. The piled sacrifices were cold, and stank; a fine pall of dust lay over everything, undisturbed by any celestial breezes or divine attention.

When the blue hour arrived at last, Heezai walked to the portal in despair, and gazed out. To her astonishment, she heard Mazsai pacing close behind her.

“You said there are monsters in the void,” said Mazsai.

“There are,” Heezai replied, watching as one moved with unhurried menace across the field of her vision.

“And She dwells in the void. You don’t suppose…one of them has done something to Her?”

“What monster could prevail over Her?” said Heezai, indignant. But as she thought about the question, she realized in horror that she did not know the answer.

“You’re right,” said Mazsai, “Nothing could possibly harm Her. She is all-powerful. She must simply be withholding Her presence as a punishment!” Mazsai began to run back and forth again, as much to warm herself as to yield to her impulse toward flight. “Blessed One, we have seen the error of our ways! We know You will not forsake us forever! Come back to us now!”

And, lo—

The First Sign appeared, flaring gold. Frantic with joy, the priestesses danced on pace-bruised feet to welcome Her, screamed out their hymn from raw throats.

And She came! But…

Something had changed. There was light, and warmth, and glorious harmony—yet mixed with it was a darker sound, an alien sound, and Heezai and Mazsai gazed up into the effulgent radiance and beheld that She was not alone. There was an Other, that was not Her.

The sisters faltered only a moment in their prescribed dance, resumed their chants of welcome with renewed vigor. She descended to them as She always had, and they were blessed.

The sacrifices were accepted: but was there something perfunctory in Her manner as She took them? Her gifts were given out, and the sisters rejoiced in Her bounty; but as they presented their pleas, their praises, they had the distinct impression that She was not giving them Her full attention.

Instead, there was a great deal more of the celestial harmony, mysteriously loud, and it went on for hours longer than its customary time. And the Other remained manifest beside Her, and would not be prayed to or praised, but remained an aloof strangeness that somehow diminished Her glory.

And then—oh, unthinkable!—She did not dwell with them, as She had, but departed and left them in darkness.

Heezai and Mazsai lay side by side in the shadows of the temple that night, staring up into the fathomless distance of the vaulted roof.

“What can it be?” said Heezai at last.

“She is testing our faith,” said Mazsai.

Neither one of them could bring themselves to speak of the Other. They scarcely knew words to describe it.


Now began a time that sorely tried Heezai and Mazsai, for the world they knew was gone.

Not so much the physical world; the temple remained solid and eternal, though its dark corners seemed darker, and its dust lay more thickly. But every comfortable assumption about the pattern of the universe was torn away, it seemed.

Heezai and Mazsai might dedicate themselves to the prescribed rituals with grim energy, attain previously unknown levels of cleanness and contemplation, slaughter and offer up the sacrifices with fiery zeal; and She might ignore their efforts, failing to manifest, though their songs of invocation were perfect and pure in every note.

They might lie listless on the floor of the temple, neglecting every duty in despair, mute and motionless as the darkness fell: and then, without warning, She would arrive in all Her former splendor! And sometimes She dwelt with them, and for a sweet night or two it seemed She had forgiven them their sins, which were many by this time.

More often, though, when She came, the Other came as well; and then Her time was brief. Her blessing was withheld. It seemed She had come before them only to make the darkness more profound when She departed.

“She is testing our faith,” repeated Mazsai, one night as they lay alone.

“You have cobwebs in your hair,” said Heezai.

Mazsai turned away and wept.


One night, when Heezai and Mazsai lay dozing in the rear of the temple, they were awakened by a flare of light and sound. They leaped up and stared at each other in mingled dread and wonder.

“She came, and we weren’t even at the portal!” Heezai cried. They went racing out between the great columns, and saw that it was true: She had manifested in all her Glory, and the Other was also manifest, and the celestial harmony rolled and echoed through the temple.

The priestesses began their dance, their psalm of praise, but halted in dismay: for before their unbelieving eyes the very geometry of the eternal temple began to change. Walls descended from on high, the tremendous immobile columns that held up the world shifted and walked. A terrace that had from time immemorial divided the place of sacrifice from the place of purification lifted into brightness, and vanished utterly.

Heezai and Mazsai cowered together, as the harmonies trumpeted above their heads. Then, from on high, a figure descended and landed fair on her feet on the temple floor.

“Oh, it’s Keesai!” sobbed Mazsai in relief, and ran forward, and Heezai ran too. But when the figure turned to them, they skidded to a halt. Instead of Keesai, the old priestess who had taught them the Duties, they beheld a stranger. It seemed the celestial harmonies paused for a breathless moment, as the stranger regarded them coldly.

“What a pair of fat frumps,” she said, and chuckled.

Mazsai backed away, frightened. Heezai, however, stood her ground.

“Who are you?” she demanded.

“I am His priestess,” said the other. “Heersha the Beautiful is my name.” She looked around her. “I don’t think much of this temple.”

It was a moment before Heezai could stammer a reply, so shocked she was.

“How dare you! This is Her house!”

“Not any more, it isn’t,” Heersha told her. She swaggered close, until her face was almost touching Heezai’s. “He has conquered, you see? All places are His. He’s already making changes to suit His liking, or haven’t you noticed?”

Heezai gazed up toward the vast brightness, and beheld an indescribable shifting, tremendous volumes of space rearranging themselves. The celestial harmonies had resumed, but with a note of divinely snide amusement she had never heard before. Bewildered, she turned her face away.

“This can’t be,” she whispered.

“Oh, but it is,” said Heersha the Beautiful, advancing on her so that she must walk backward. “So get used to it, my dear. I am priestess here now! Find yourself a corner where you won’t be too conspicuous, and perhaps I’ll let you live there. Go on!”

In that moment, the manifestation of Her glory—or was it now the glory of the Other?—ended. Darkness and silence returned, but in the faint starlight from the portal Heezai saw that Heersha was still there, a blacker shadow against the night. Heezai lost utterly her courage, and fled. Mazsai had already done so.


Their fall was complete.

The sisters dwelt now at the extreme back of the temple, crowding together in a tiny sanctuary far from the light. The first morning after Her departure, Heezai had ventured out into the refectory for breakfast, and only got halfway to the pantry before Heersha sprang out to block her path.

“Not for you!” she snarled. “Go on, get back in your hole!”

Heezai trembled, but stood her ground.

“We must eat,” she protested.

“Not this food,” said Heersha. “This is all mine. You’re too fat anyhow! I’ll bet you’ve never faced a morning without breakfast in your life, have you?”

“She has always provided for us,” said Heezai, with as much dignity as she could muster, and attempted to sidle past Heersha. She saw a blur, felt a slashing impact.

“You’ve got weapons!” she gasped, her astonishment almost as great as her pain. Blood was welling from a long gash across the bridge of her nose. “But that’s Forbidden!”

“Not to me,” said Heersha, advancing on her. “He doesn’t require his priestess to be a little soft fat nothing like you. Now, go!”

Heezai ran back to the sanctuary, where Mazsai was peering out.

“Didn’t you bring me back any—”she began crossly, before seeing Heezai’s bleeding face. Then she screamed.

Heezai collapsed, panting, and while her sister hurriedly cleaned away the blood—for dirtiness was Forbidden—she explained what had happened.

“Well, then, She will come to punish,” said Mazsai indignantly, compressing the long gash to make the bleeding stop. “Weapons indeed! And greed is Forbidden, and so is fighting. You ought to go straight back there and tell her so.”

“I’m frightened to,” said Heezai.

“Frightened? You’re never frightened. Oh, what’s happening to the world?” cried Mazsai.

All that day they hid together in the sanctuary, and Mazsai kept their spirits up by speculating on how She would punish the sinful interloper when She came. At twilight, they even dared so much as to venture out toward the portal; but Heersha rose before them, laughing, and drove them back into the darkness with kicks and blows.

And She did not manifest Herself. All that night, and every night after, Her temple was silent, was black and cold.

The sisters found that Heersha did sleep, sometimes, in the long sunlit stretches in the midst of the day. It was just possible, then, to creep into the refectory and steal a mouthful or two of food, and drink a little water, before Heersha came running in to drive them away. To their horror, she took possession of the lavatory too.

“But what will we do?” demanded Mazsai, thoroughly scandalized. “We can’t just go in a corner of the Temple! That’s unclean! That’s Forbidden!”

“Will She come to punish us?” asked Heezai wearily, dabbing at her eye. Heersha’s cut had pinked the corner of the lid, and it had become inflamed and wept. “Or is She punishing us now? I can’t see that it makes any difference.”

In the end they dragged some of the smaller temple furnishings into an alcove and made a reasonably private place, though after three days the stink tormented them with shame.

“This is so sordid,” Mazsai complained one long night, as they lay side by side in the dark.

“Sordid?” said Heezai. “This is worse than the void.”

“What would the two of you know about the void?” said a gloating voice from outside the sanctuary. After a moment’s horrified silence, Heezai drew on her courage and said:

“It’s a place of monsters, and sudden death. All chaos, all horror; yet She manifests Herself from there.

“When it pleases Her to do so,” she added.

“But it hasn’t pleased Her lately, has it?” Heersha said. “Not surprising. Who’d want a couple of priestesses like you?”

“Who’d want you, either?” Heezai retorted. “Or haven’t you noticed that the Other hasn’t manifested since you’ve been here? Perhaps this isn’t His temple after all.”

There was silence for a moment. Then the voice spoke once more out of the shadows:

“Anyway, I’m not afraid of the void. I’ve been out there many times. He doesn’t care if I go. In fact, He makes me go there, often. Sometimes He makes me bring His sacrifices from that place. It makes me strong. I’m not a spoiled and pampered fool, like the pair of you.”

“What is it like?” Heezai asked.

“Are there monsters?” Mazsai asked.

There was another silence, and then the sound of an elaborate yawn. “Of course there are. Horrible, deadly monsters, and a thousand painful ways to die. And there are other priestesses, fighting to survive, and priests too! But the two of you wouldn’t know anything about that, I’m sure, ha ha.”

Neither Heezai nor Mazsai knew anything about that at all, so the sneer was lost on them completely.

“Do you know why She manifests from there?” Heezai persisted.

“She, She, She! Can’t you get it through your little heads that She is nothing? He is all. There are a thousand weak things like Her out there. He plays with them and makes them serve Him. That’s the law of the void. When He’s tired of Her, She will cease to exist. So will you.”

“You’re a liar!” cried Mazsai.

“Not about this,” said Heersha, sounding smug.

“Oh, shut up and go away,” said Heezai.

“I was just going,” Heersha said. “You’re both too pathetically boring for words.”

They heard her walking away, and then she paused.

“By the way,” she said, “the food’s running out. By tomorrow morning there won’t be any left. I suppose you have no idea what to do then, have you?”

Laughing, she walked on.


The long hours crawled by, the days with their silent climbing sunlight, the nights with their horrors. Heezai and Mazsai lay together in the sanctuary, fasting.

“It was always replenished,” Mazsai whispered. “Always, there was food. Were our sins so great?”

“But She forgave us our sins,” said Heezai. “She never punished us like this. There must be some other reason for our sufferings now.”

“What if Heersha is right?” Mazsai began to weep. “What if She is nothing, after all? Keesai was wrong in everything she taught us. It was lies. The Other is all-powerful.”

“No.” Heezai was thinking carefully. “Remember, how you said this must be a test of our faith? Perhaps it’s a very hard test.”

“She would never test us like this!” said Mazsai. “She loved us!”

“She might test our strength, even if it was a little painful,” said Heezai. “How far back can you remember, sister?”

“…I remember Keesai,” said Mazsai at last, sounding doubtful. “Of course. And all our lessons. I remember when Keesai was in pain, and ascended into the void.”

“That was later. But can you remember very far back?” Heezai asked.

“I…I don’t like to. Because…” Mazsai’s voice trailed away.

“When did we learn about pain, sister?”

“Long ago,” said Mazsai. “There was—oh, the strange smell! And the brightness, I was so frightened of it! And unbearable pain!”

“It wasn’t unbearable,” said Heezai. “Can’t you remember? She comforted us. She heard our prayers. Do you remember what Keesai told us then?”

“No!”

“She told us to be brave, because it was all for our own good,” said Heezai. “She said the pain would go away, and it did.”

“…For our own good?”

“To make us more perfect servants of Her will,” said Heezai. “‘A little pain for a lifetime of blessedness, children,’ that’s what Keesai said.”

“No, I don’t remember any such thing.” Mazsai was on the point of angry tears.

“It happened, all the same.” Heezai got to her feet, with effort.

“What are you doing?”

“I think this is more pain for our own good,” said Heezai. “Heersha is evil, but she was telling the truth about the void and the law of the void. It’s all fighting and death there. Well, the void has come into Her temple now. There must be a greater sacrifice to Her glory than there has ever been, before She will manifest for us again.”

Heezai walked unsteadily to the door of the sanctuary.

“Where are you going?” cried Mazsai.

“I am going to fight the servant of the Other,” said Heezai, and went out into the light.


Heezai thought to seek Heersha in the great hall of the portal, but as she passed the door to the refectory, she beheld movement. Curious, she peered in.

She had believed nothing more would shock her; but she had been wrong.

“Sacrilege!” she shouted. Heersha, who was tearing greedily at a sacrifice, merely raised her eyes.

“Get out,” she said.

“The sacrifices are Hers alone!”

“Don’t be stupid,” Heersha replied, through a full mouth. “Do you think anyone is ever coming back to accept your offerings? He’s happy to take what I leave Him.” She swallowed, and grinned. “And are you telling me you’ve never wanted to do this? Why, look at you; your mouth’s watering. You want it now—”

Heezai launched herself at the servant of the Other, and rage gave her strength. Starved as she was, she was still heavier than Heersha, who collapsed before her with an oof. Heersha lay stunned a moment, fighting for breath, as Heezai kicked and pummeled her; but in another moment she threw off her opponent and sprang to her feet, drawing her weapons.

The fight was silent. There was too much hatred for taunts. Heersha leaped, feinted, stabbed; Heezai dodged; Heersha circled, weaving, slashing out, going for Heezai’s other eye. Heezai fell and rolled, avoiding blindness, but Heersha came down on her back with all her weight, and slashed again at Heezai’s head. She took off the tip of Heezai’s ear.

Heezai felt the impact more than the pain. Then it was only burning, burning, and she was somehow on her feet and glaring across the room at Heersha. Heersha was laughing, low in her throat. She crouched, preparing to spring and slash again. Heezai crouched too and waited, and the red blood streamed down the side of her face, fell in big drops to the floor of the temple.

Heezai waited until Heersha was in midair, and tried to scramble away. Partly she succeeded, slipping on the slick blood, and Heersha struck the wall, but fell on her. She was wounded again before she managed to break away; she couldn’t tell where, but felt her strength running out with the blood.

And Heersha was stalking toward her, now, winded but grinning still.

“His is the triumph,” she said, flexing her supple back to leap again.

“Heezaiii!” Mazsai was thundering into the room, fat timid Mazsai, and she hit Heersha and they went bowling over and over before colliding with the wall. Heersha was again knocked breathless. Mazsai rolled back, finding her feet, and put herself between Heezai and Heersha.

“You evil thing,” she sobbed, “go away!”

There was a noise, louder than thunder. There was a light so brilliant it blinded them all. The celestial harmonies shook the air, and She was manifest.

She Herself, alone, and there was no Other to darken the air beside her or take half Her divine music.

Mazsai edged backward and exchanged a frightened glance with Heezai. The glorious voice was throbbing with emotion, but not love. They heard fury, and grief, and wounded pride, and betrayal. The very walls of the temple were shaking with the impact, as She directed blows against it. Columns shattered and fell, terraces moved half their length across the great hall.

Heersha had got to her feet and was shaking her head, stupefied. Looking up at Her approach, she bared her teeth.

Spellbound, Heezai and Mazsai watched and saw the truth of damnation, saw the price of offense against Her. Heersha was seized up bodily, borne toward the portal too quick to scream or struggle. The portal opened, and a great blast of cold rushed into the temple, and they saw darkness and stars beyond.

Heersha was flung through the portal, which slammed behind her with a boom that was painful to their ears, but they ran close—even daring Her wrath—in time to see Heersha cartwheeling through the void before landing on her feet, square in a livid blotch of light that moved on her relentlessly. She turned to meet it with a scream of rage, but it did not stop for fear of her. It came on, and crushed her, and when it had passed they saw her lying in her own blood, not moving.

“Sinner,” hissed Mazsai, vindicated beyond her wildest dreams.

They became aware that She had passed into the rear of the temple behind them. They turned together and hurried through the great hall without hesitation, though Heezai was limping badly. That place above their sanctuary, so long black and fearful, was now aglow with Her presence. Timidly, abasing themselves, they came before Her.

Wonder of wonders, they were lifted at once into Her bosom and embraced, and Her warmth surrounded them, and Her aggrieved heart poured out its love to them alone! Rapturous, thankful, they sang Her praise, and this was the verse She sang over theirs:

“Oh, Hussy, oh, Mussy, Mommie’s so sorry she left her kitties alone so long to go on vacation with that awful man! Mommie’s glad she threw out his nasty old cat! Mommie promises she’ll never, ever leave you alone again!”