Eye of Saturn (The Daughters of Saturn Book 1)

by Raso, Idalita Wright

  Abraham saw Felipe coming his way, urged his body forward and stretched forth his arms, blocking the entrance.

  Felipe was about to shove his father-in-law aside, when unexpectedly Abraham slumped over and fell to the ground. A hooded worshiper standing behind Abraham had knocked him out cold. The man pulled back his hood, revealing his face.

  “Gabriel?” Felipe said surprised.

  “I’m afraid there’s no time to catch up on old times, my friend. If you want to save the witch, you must hurry, they’re coming.”

  “Thank you, Gabriel,” Felipe said, dashing out of the temple.

  “Abraham!” Nashiema screamed, running to her husband’s side.

  “I tried to stop Felipe, but he was too powerful.” Gabriel said, shielding Abraham and Nashiema from the elders and worshipers rushing past them.

  In order to regain his powers, Felipe knew he had to get as far away from the temple as possible. Without his powers, he was as helpless as any mortal.

  The Daughters of Saturn flew furiously, hurling a storm of energy balls, narrowly missing Felipe and Diomira.

  Felipe ran through the courtyard, stopping short. His feet were teetering on the edge of the mountain. Taking a step backward, Felipe turned around, facing the Daughters of Saturn, temple elders, and a mob of worshipers. He and Diomira were trapped.

  “Felipe, if you bring Diomira to me, I promise I will break the curse,” Isis said, landing and taking a step toward him.

  “You’re lying,” Felipe shot back.

  Dusana hurled an energy ball, aiming it at Diomira.

  Felipe turned his body, protecting the witch, who lay unconscious in his arms. The wave of energy hit him square in his back. He could feel a surge of electricity, pulsating throughout his body, burning a hole through his clothing.

  Isis’ eyes darkened.

  “Enough!” she growled. She held out her scythe, pointing it at Felipe. Blue and white electrical sparks spewed forth from the scythe. “For the last time, give the witch to us!”

  Felipe’s feet started moving against his will—bringing him ever closer to Isis. Felipe dug his heels into the ground. He knew he had only one choice. He held Diomira tight in his arms, turned and plunged off the side of the mountain.

  The Daughters of Saturn took flight, swooping down the mountain after Felipe. Isis stretched her long, bluish arm reaching for Diomira. The ground was coming fast, Felipe and Diomira were about to plummet to earth. Felipe closed his eyes. Just as the pair was about to hit the ground, Felipe could feel his vampiric powers returning. He and Diomira vanished.

  SAFE AT LAST

  Felipe looked down at Diomira in his arms, she was drenched in sweat. Her condition had worsened. He knew he needed to get her back to the cave, but with the Daughters of Saturn in hot pursuit, it was impossible. Wherever Felipe and Diomira appeared, the sisters would materialize—each time his powers grew weaker and weaker.

  Felipe finally ended up in a shipyard in the port of Lisbon. He found a darkened corner and placed Diomira securely behind a large, wooden crate. Felipe felt dizzy, his vampiric powers were failing. He saw streaks of white and purple rays of light flickering. Cautiously, Felipe peered his head from around the corner. The Daughters of Saturn had followed him.

  Dammit!

  Quickly, Felipe crouched down and pressed his back hard against the wall.

  Diomira whimpered, regaining consciousness.

  “Felipe, where are we?”

  “Shh! The sisters have us trapped.”

  “Use the powder,” she whispered.

  “The powder doesn’t work on me, remember?” Felipe said in a strained whisper.

  “Yes, but it may turn you invisible long enough for us to escape. The fresh scent from the boar’s blood will throw them off our trail.”

  Felipe crawled over to Diomira and cradled her in his arms. He opened the witch’s leather satchel that hung around her neck and scooped up as much of the crystalline powder as he could hold in his hands. He covered his body and Diomira’s with the magickal powder.

  Diomira’s body immediately turned completely invisible, while Felipe’s body only turned semi-transparent. He could hear the Daughters of Saturn talking in their ancient tongue. Isis and her sisters were heading in their direction. Felipe knew the sisters could easily detect him and the invisibility powder would only cloak Diomira for so long. They had to make a break for it.

  Diomira’s body twitched.

  Felipe looked down, straining his eyes to see the invisible witch in his arms. The sister’s magick had weakened his powers and he wasn’t sure if he could teleport himself, let alone Diomira, but he had to try— the Daughters of Saturn were coming.

  This had better work.

  Felipe and Diomira vanished the moment the sisters turned the corner where they were hiding. The musky scent of the boar’s blood lingered in the air.

  * * *

  Once inside Diomira’s cave, Felipe gently placed the witch in her bed. Her body began to gradually rematerialize. He filled a washbasin with water from the pitcher that was beside the bed and searched for cloths to cleanse her wounds.

  Diomira opened her eyes.

  “I am so sorry, my love. I failed you,” she said in a low voice.

  Felipe walked over to Diomira. “You didn’t fail me. You’re alive and that’s what counts. Now, rest easy,” he said, kissing her forehead.

  She started coughing.

  “Here, let me get you some water.” He poured her a cup. He placed the cup to Diomira’s lips.

  She drank the water too fast, and coughed several more times.

  “Slowly,” he said.

  Wincing in pain, Diomira drew in a deep breath. She sat up in bed, taking the cup from Felipe. “Please, go to the cupboard and get the blue bottle. It contains a healing ointment.”

  He headed to the makeshift kitchen area.

  Diomira took several more sips of water before settling back in bed, resting the cup on her chest.

  Felipe came back with a cobalt blue, square bottle in his hand. He sat next to her at the edge of the bed and unscrewed the cap. The bottle contained a pungent smelling, brown balm. He made a face.

  “Apply the ointment to my wounds,” she instructed.

  Felipe heaped a generous amount of the pungent smelling salve on his forefingers and rubbed it on Diomira’s left shoulder, where she had suffered a third-degree burn.

  “Gently.”

  “Sorry.” This time Felipe made sure he tenderly applied the ointment to Diomira’s right temple, where she was still bleeding. The wounds immediately began to heal.

  Felipe looked around on the floor for a cloth to wipe the foul smelling ointment from his hands. He spotted one and wiped his hands clean. He took the cup of water from Diomira and placed it on the floor.

  “How are you feeling?”

  “Better.”

  “I warned you something like this might happen, but you wouldn’t listen,” he scolded.

  “I actually touched Saturn’s Sacred Scrolls. If my foot hadn’t slipped,” she said, sitting up in bed.

  “Yes, and you almost got yourself killed.”

  “Felipe, the scrolls are worth dying for. They contain the words of a god. I could feel its power.”

  “Diomira, the Daughters of Saturn were following us. Are we safe here?”

  “The boar’s blood cut our tracks and the cave is magickally protected.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Yes, I’m sure. I used an ancient Saturn spell of protection. There’s no need to worry.”

  Felipe gave a sigh of relief. He leaned over her and kissed Diomira tenderly when he was interrupted by the insatiable desire for flesh and blood. He pulled away from her.

  “I need to feed, but I’m scared to leave you.”

  “I’ll be all right. See,” she said, pointing to her shoulder, the wound has completely healed. Now go!”

  “But what if the Daughters of Saturn should find you?”
<
br />   “I told you the cave is protected.”

  He gave her a quick kiss and vanished.

  SATURN’S HIGH PRIEST

  Gabriel lingered in the temple, sitting by a small ritual fire that was still burning in the hearth. He stared into the flames.

  Felipe and the witch must have escaped. Otherwise, she would be burning inside the brazier by now.

  The shrine was eerily quiet. Gabriel rested his back against the stone wall. He berated himself for not taking Felipe’s advice and telling Lilith how he felt about her. She could have been his wife instead, and Felipe would have never been cursed.

  The flames of the ritual fire flickered and danced in the hearth. From out of the depths of the quiet darkness came a thick, bluish, icy mist that enveloped the temple, extinguishing the flames in the hearth. A haunting shrill reverberated throughout the temple, followed by heavy, unearthly footsteps.

  Gabriel’s eyes widened. He got down on his knees, trembling in fear. Surely the Judgment Seat of Saturn was upon him for helping Felipe escape. He was swathed in a celestial light. Gabriel shaded his eyes from the bright light. He felt something ice cold touch the left side of his shoulder. Gabriel let out a stifled scream. He scuffled backwards on the ground attempting to escape. An invisible power elevated his body off the ground.

  “Gabriel, you will serve as my Elisolhim (High Priest), a voice spoke in a thunderous voice.

  Gabriel hovered in midair, without warning his robe stripped from his body, leaving him naked. His back arched, his eyes fluttered and turned black. Starbursts swirled in his pupils. A flaming six-pointed star appeared in the middle of his chest. Gabriel screamed as more even flaming symbols seared themselves into his skin. The Seal of Saturn imprinted itself on Gabriel’s back, along with the seven pentacles of Saturn. Black wings sprouted out from his shoulder blades. Gabriel’s arms stretched outward, a scythe and ring of Sumerian royal authority appeared. A gold stepped crown rested upon his head.

  The Daughters of Saturn appeared in midair. They surrounded Gabriel, bowing their heads and lifting their arms in exaltation.

  “Hail Saturn! Hail Saturn! Brother, our High Priest!”

  THE CONFESSION

  Tomás opened his eyes. His face grimaced from the shooting pain in his legs. He looked down. To his horror, his left leg was nothing more than a bloody heap of mangled flesh and splintered bones. Even if they did let him go, his injuries were so severe, he would be crippled for life.

  He looked up at his wife, who was still hanging in chains in a pillar in front of him, unconscious. His eyes trailed to her bloodied chest, where the executioner had cut off her breast. Tomás began to sob.

  The executioner entered the torture chamber. He brought in a device which had hemi-cylindrical spikes lined on either inside of blades. The blades formed a long, narrow tube when closed together. The executioner placed the device inside a stove of hot burning coals.

  Tomás swallowed hard and closed his eyes tight.

  “Please don’t.” He knew that the torture device’s main purpose was to sear a prisoner’s bowels shut.

  The executioner waited until the blade of the device was red hot. He took the device by the cooled handle and walked behind Tomás. The executioner took the blazing blade and inserted the device into Tomás’ rectum.

  Tomás screamed in pain from the red-hot blades cooking his insides and his bowels.

  The executioner unscrewed the handle, making the hot, spiked-lined blades expanded while inside of Tomás rectum.

  Tomás could feel the device stretch his bowels, ripping and tearing inside of him.

  Tomás gave a guttural cry.

  The archbishop and the inquisitor entered the torture chamber. The archbishop stood directly in front of Tomás with a disgusted look upon his face.

  Tomás looked up at the archbishop with tear-stained eyes, he knew he had sustained a fatal wound. Dark blood began to pour out of the gaping wound in his rectum.

  “We both know you have killed me,” Tomás said, his breathing now shallow. “I wish to make a confession,” his voice raspy.

  “Yes, Señor de Hayos, confession is so good for the soul.” Archbishop de Acuña smiled.

  “I am responsible for turning Felipe into a vampiro, but I acted alone. It was all my doing. Please let my family and servants go free. They’re innocent.” His mouth quivered as he winced from the intense pain, his breathing erratic and labored. “But please, before I die,” he swallowed hard, “I must know my accuser.”

  The archbishop and the inquisitor exchanged a look. The archbishop bent over and whispered a single name into Tomás’ ear. “Lilith.”

  Tomás burst into a hysterical laughter before his body jerked and he took his final breath.

  * * *

  The two men walked out of the cell.

  “Your Excellency, Señor de Hayos confessed, are you going to release his family and servants?” the inquisitor asked.

  “No, Manuel, we will proceed tomorrow as planned. The servants will burn at seven o’clock. By noon, there will be a larger crowd to witness the de Hayos’ smoking corpses. This will serve as a warning to all who contemplate consorting with the devil.”

  “But Your Grace, what about Señor de Hayos? He’s already dead.”

  “His body will burn with the rest of them. Come, Manuel, let us prepare,” the archbishop said, turning abruptly from the inquisitor and walking swiftly down the corridor.

  BAPTISM BY FIRE

  Just before sunrise, Toledo, Spain.

  In the center of town, the de Hayos’ servants, many of whom bore gaping, bloody wounds on their backs and faces, wept as the executioner and priests led them up ladders and chained them to twelve foot high, wooden stakes on an enormous double-sided scaffold that filled the entire town square. It was the largest and most elaborate platform ever built for an execution that the townspeople had ever seen.

  The priests said a prayer before giving the condemned women and men parting words before heading down the ladder.

  The executioner looked at the frightened faces of the doomed servants and laughed. He set fire to the wood pyre below. Within minutes, flames shot up the wooden stakes and the servants were consumed by black smoke and flames.

  * * *

  Diomira woke from a horrifying dream, something terrible was happening. She rolled over.

  “Felipe?” Diomira scrambled out of bed and frantically searching the cave. She ran out into the forest, “Felipe!” she screamed.

  * * *

  High-pitched screams of the burning servants echoed throughout the winding maze of alleyways and cobblestone streets of Toledo. A crowd of townspeople began gathering in the town square as the smoke rose higher. The sickening sweet, musky smell of human flesh burning filled the air. Children ran around their parents’ legs, playing tag, imitating the haunting screams of men and women being burned to death. A few women screamed in horror at the sight of the servants burning at the stake, while others in the crowd snickered and cheered.

  * * *

  It was noon when the guards led Zaybeth, Maria, and Francisca, with their hands firmly tied in front of them, to the center of the square. Alejandro, who was left crippled by the knee-splitter, was dragged out by a leash. He screamed in pain as bones stuck out of both his kneecaps.

  Zaybeth turned and cried out.

  “Alejandro! Please let him go, he’s hurt.”

  Francisca, weakened by blood loss, could do little more than stumble along in a daze to her own inevitable death. She stared vacantly through her tear-laden eyes at the charred remains of what once were her servants smoldering on the blackened stakes.

  A guard carried Tomás’ lifeless body over his shoulder, brushing past Francisca so hard it flung open her torn, bloody dress to expose her mutilated breast. She reached to touch her dead husband’s body, but the heavy chains kept her frail hands from reaching him. The guard bound Tomás’ body to a stake and then spat on him.

  The inquisitor rose from
his chair and knelt before the archbishop, kissing his ring. The inquisitor then turned facing the crowd.

  “On this sixteenth day of September, in the year of our Lord, 1456, before you stand Señor Tomás Miguel de Hayos Pérez, Señora Francisca Montoya de Hayos, Alejandro de Hayos Montoya, Maria Luz Rivera Castile, and Zaybeth Rivera Castile, all found guilty of heresy and consorting with the devil. I hereby ask that their names be stricken from any record, both public and private. From this day forth, we shall never speak of the de Hayos family, or of the evil that was set loose upon this land. May their names and memories be blotted out as they burn, may we leave them to the devil which is waiting to receive their damned souls and carry them into the flames of hell-fire the moment they take their last breathe.”

  A guard carried Alejandro up the ladder and chained him to the stake. As the guard was about to go down the ladder, he turned and spat in Alejandro’s face.

  “Filthy dog! May the devil take you!”

  Guards forced Zaybeth, Maria and Francisca up the ladders to the stakes, and to the priests who stood on the ledge of the scaffolding, waiting for them. Zaybeth strained her eyes to see through the smoldering thick smoke of the still burning bodies of the servants. She tripped several times on the hem of her tattered nightgown going up the ladder. The executioner lifted her up the ladder where he tied heavy chains around her tiny waist. Her wrists bound behind her back as she was attached to a rough, thick, wooden stake.

  The crowd applauded and jeered as the de Hayos family was chained to the stakes.

  Zaybeth stared, horrified into the jeering faces in the crowd.

  Why were they being put to death? Why did the inquisitor call them heretics and consorters of the devil? Why was this happening?

  A slight breeze rippled across the square, blowing Zaybeth’s curly red hair across her face, temporarily blinding her.

  Zaybeth shook her head from side to side, moving her hair back from her eyes. She tried moving her arms, but they would not budge. Finally, the breeze past and her hair fell back into place, revealing a sea of endless, mocking faces of the crowd-goers that had gathered in the square to watch them burn to death.