Savage Saints (Monsters of Saint Mark's)

“No, we don’t.” I kneel down in front of her and tap my bare shoulder. “Get on. I’ll lift you up.”

“Are you sure?”

I peek up at her and grin. “I’m sure.”

She climbs on, I stand up, and she squeals a little, her fingers gripping my head and partially covering my eyes.

I laugh as I step forward. “I hope you’re not afraid of heights.” Then I reach up and tap the bottom lip of the architrave. “Grab onto the carving, put your hoof in my hand, and I’ll lift you up so you can stand on this ledge.”

“Oh, shit. What if I fall?”

“Those hooves of yours will know what to do. You won’t fall.”

“OK.” She reaches up, grabs onto a piece of stone, and puts her hoof in my hand. I lift her, easily, and she rises up with a laugh. I grip her ankles tight and lift again, until she steps onto the ledge and lets out a breath. “That was easier than I thought it would be.”

She has no idea what that new body of hers can do yet. But it’s good to see her push the limits a little.

“OK. I’m gonna do it. If I fall—”

“You won’t fall. But don’t worry. I’m right here.”

She looks down at me and smiles. “My spelling is really good. I think this is gonna work.”

“I’m busy looking at your ass, Pie. You’ve got like three minutes before I yank you down, press you up against a column, and fuck your brains out.”

She snorts, then leans up on her tiptoes—her split hooves splaying wide to grip the stone—and begins to write.

I read along as she does this. And I have to admit, her spell is more than good. It’s excellent.

She reads it out loud when she’s done:

“A wood, a buck, a nymph, and stone.

A way into a satyr’s home.

A door appears, the nymph walks through,

And now their lives begin anew.”

Then Pie turns, back pressed against the broken carvings, and jumps with a wild grin on her face.

I catch her out of instinct, and she laughs into my ear as she buries her face in my neck, her long legs entwining around my waist.

And that’s when I notice… “Holy shit, Pie. You did it!”

She squirms and I set her down. Then she turns back to my tomb with a gasp. “Ho-lee. Shit.”

We just stand there for a few moments, staring dumbly at the sunlight shining into the stoa. “Oh, my God, that’s you!” She looks at me, mouth open and face awash in wonderment.

“That’s me,” I agree. Then I offer her my hand. “Wanna go inside?”

She lets out a breath. Like she’s emptying herself out so this new experience can fill her back up. Then she places her hand in mine and we walk up the steps that lead into my tomb.

Two seconds later, we’re inside.

And I have to pause for a moment to fully appreciate how important this moment is. No one has ever set foot inside this building besides me.

Until now.