Reluctant Gods (The Awakening Book 2)

by Keri Armstrong

  I doubled my effort, while my heart threatened to explode, silently screaming at Ammon, pleading to Sara, but they continued wrapped in their own little world.

  They held hands, laughing and gazing at each other while a dead woman lay a few feet away, and unconscious bodies—either dead or still alive—were strapped to pillars all around them.

  Yet still they partied. Guests and hosts alike. It seemed I was the only one who had a problem with this ‘celebration’.

  I was used to being the one odd out, but this was taking it to the next level.

  Who were all these people? More had come to join in—both male and female. Were they one of the families like Nathan’s that served the Sleepers, or were some of them those who had Awakened?

  No, probably not. Those on the poles were certainly some of the Sleepers I had seen today. If some of their brethren were present, surely they wouldn’t have allowed such monstrosity? Although, after everything I heard about them, I couldn’t answer that question with certainty.

  And at this point, it didn’t really matter to me who all these people were or what they were doing here. The only thing that mattered was what they were going to do, and to whom.

  As George continued to chant, another one of the guards banged on a massive gong and the crowed was silenced. The sudden silence gave me a moment to breathe, helping to calm the anxiety that threatened to explode my mind.

  From the front, the happy couple still held hands but they turned to face the crowd.

  Ammon raised his other, free hand in the air and the crowed followed, cheering.

  They silenced when he started to talk. “My dear guests, thank you all for coming today to witness this great miracle.”

  Great start, I thought. A bit melodramatic for my taste but I wasn’t the one saying it.

  “As many of you have guessed, my Izzara has come back to me.” He gestured to Sara who smiled prettily. “And now, Tsamiti will return Sara’s soul to her original body, so she can be whole once more.”

  The crowd cheered and I screamed inside.

  Ammon gestured toward George and my guard bowed and started moving forward.

  So his name was Tsamiti. I like George better. Hysterical giggles moved in my silent throat then broke free.

  Once George-nee-Tsamiti turned and stopped chanting, the binding spell broke. I fell to the ground, gasping.

  Unfortunately, another guard saw and rushed over. He jerked me up into a tight grip. I kicked and screamed, and oh, did it feel good to be able to do so, yet it still seemed that no one noticed me.

  I once had a dream I was invisible, and even wished upon waking that it were true, so that nobody would ever stare at me again. How stupid I was.

  Worst of all, this was no dream.

  I struggled in his arms. They were sweaty so I was able to squirm a bit. “Sara!” I screamed. “Sara, please look at me!”

  He slapped a large hand over my mouth and nose, suffocating me. I tried to bite him but couldn’t get traction.

  He started dragging me to the side. I managed to kick and squirm enough that he had to move his hand from my face to restrain my arms.

  “Don’t let him do this to you,” I shouted back to my cousin.

  Ammon simply spoke over me. “For this rite, we will need light. Those who would have blocked this day from happening will provide it. That is their privilege and punishment,” he proclaimed.

  The guard holding me must have been curious because he turned us around to face Ammon, who was now looking at Sara again.

  “To seal the magic,” he said, “we will need a true sacrifice, one made out of love.”

  Sara beamed up at him and Ammon kissed her lightly on the lips.

  The crowd cheered and I felt sick. It was as if I were in a nightmare of a wedding reception with everyone yelling, kiss, kiss.

  Ammon finally broke the kiss and grinned back out at the crowd. He raised a hand and called out, “Light the torches.”

  More dancers came forth carrying torches, both men and women this time. They were nude except for tiny strips of strategically placed cloth.

  I watched with morbid fascination they took their positions next to the poles. Drums beat all around, picking up tempo as the dancers writhed around the poles, passing the torches to one another as if in an ancient Olympic ceremony. Then, with perfect precision, they lit the bodies as the drums reached their zenith.

  Screams tore through the night air as those tied to the poles went up in blazing red flames.

  The screaming of the Sleepers and the smell of the smoke broke me. I bent around my captive’s arms, unable to stay upright.

  “Please, please. Stop,” I begged.

  Still the party went on.

  My head shook weakly, tears and snot dripping from my face. The guard who held me must have thought I was no longer a threat, since he dropped me to the ground and walked away.

  He was right. At the moment, all I could do was shake, curled up in a ball on the ground. In my mind I tried to order myself to calm down. This was neither the time nor the place to lose my grit.

  It wasn’t working. I had to try harder, but I couldn’t stop shaking. I’d just witnessed a mass murder, and my cousin was still partying like it was 1999.

  My cousin. Sara.

  I had to get it together. Though I was starting to wonder why. She had abandoned me for Ammon.

  Ammon the Insane.

  Ammon the Ancient.

  Ammon the Murderer.

  No. No! I had to pull out of this. There was no doubt that Sara was under some sort of spell or drug. Sara who didn’t kill ants, but led them back outside and fed them sugar? She would not be smiling up at that man.

  That helped to calm my mind. I pulled myself up to a sitting position. Attempted to summon some power within me.

  I was just about there, could almost feel the warmth inside me. I pushed away the thought that the fact that I could actually feel the heat on my skin from all of those bodies burning.

  I kept trying to focus but Ammon broke my concentration by shouting, “Bring in the black goat for sacrifice.”

  I looked up. Two large men, both tanned, bald, and dressed in ancient kilts only, walked in, carrying a long pole between them. On that pole, trussed and bound with an apple in his mouth, was Caleb.

  Eighteen

  I screamed his name. For a brief moment, our gazes locked on each other, sharing everything we couldn’t express, before he was carried away.

  I was frozen in place, this time by my own fear, as I watched with horrid realization while they moved toward the blazing red pit.

  They were planning to roast him alive.

  The damned guard was back, jerking me back against him.

  “Let me go,” I yelled at him, to no avail.

  He yelled back at me on his own language, yet we perfectly understood one another.

  There was no freaking way I could defeat him on my own. I needed help, whether human or magic. That thought almost made me laugh, I never imagined I would think something like that in my entire life. On the other hand, I never imagined I would be in a place like this, watching Sara and Caleb in danger.

  On my left there was Caleb, bound and presented as a sacrifice to be roasted over burning fire.

  And on the other side, there was Sara. She was dopey, post-Ammon fine, up until the point Ammon ordered the sacrifice to be brought in. She started to sway, as if she were very sleepy.

  It was obvious to me that she was in some kind of trance and the ritual was affecting her.

  “Please Sara, snap out of it!” I shouted. “Fight it!”

  She didn’t seem to hear me. Ammon pulled her close and looked up at him with that blissful smile that made me want to strangle him with my one hand.

  I had to do something. I screamed when they the attendants holding Caleb walked closer to the fire. I caught his gaze again and he looked toward Sara then back at me.

  The message was clear.

  His was trul
y a sacrifice of love.

  I nodded, tears now falling from my eye. I closed it and concentrated. I was suddenly overcome by the sensation of power building inside me. I completely surrendered to it, welcomed it in.

  And when I started to chant I wasn’t even aware of the words I was saying.

  The guard who held me started to sway, with me still in his arms, but I pressed on.

  Tsamiti jerked as if he felt it and turned with a knife in my direction. As he started to advance I broke loose and ran toward Sara, dodging guards and revelers alike.

  “Sara,” I yelled, trying to get her attention. Fortunately, the guests were so shocked that I dared to rebel, that nobody tried to stop me.

  “Get her,” Ammon screamed.

  That only made all of us involved to double our effort – they to catch me, and me to elude them.

  I caused enough chaos to get to Sara but, one guard was particularly on my trail.

  The mage, Tsamiti.

  Just as I was about to dodge another guard, he jumped in from of me, blocking my escape.

  He lunged at me with the knife. “You die.”

  I heard a loud growl then a yelp as something large barreled between us, knocking Tsamiti away.

  I frantically turned my head, looking for Sara. Ammon protectively held her tucked against his body but I waved my hand, saying a phrase that popped inside my head, unbidden.

  He doubled over as if punched in the stomach, the force of it pushing him away. Sara screamed and went after him, whatever spell she was still under leading her to his rescue.

  I turned again in time to see Caleb’s ropes burn away and his body fall into the pit of fire.

  I screamed, too far away to help him. I tried to run but Tsamiti was upon me again, slashing his knife only inches away from my face.

  The animal that I was certain was the same that had followed us to the cave jumped in front of me again, tackling Tsamiti, taking another slash from the knife, before Tsamiti fell, hitting his head on the marble dais and going unconscious.

  I watched in shock as the animal then leaped across the fire and snatched Caleb out of it.

  The guards who had been advancing on me charged for the coyote when they saw their mage bleeding, possibly dead, and Caleb out of the flames.

  The coyote leaped at them, giving Caleb time to recover.

  I ran toward Ammon and Sara, starting a tug of war for my cousin. Her eyes were unfocused and she merely went back and forth between us without objection.

  “Get Sara out of here,” Caleb yelled at me as he worked to fight off partygoers and guards.

  “I’m trying,” I yelled.

  Ammon pushed me and I tripped on my dress. While I tried to untangle myself, he started running with Sara.

  “Son of a...” I let my tongue loose and tore the hem of the gown, giving myself more freedom of movement then quickly snatched the knife that still lay in Tsamiti’s hand.

  I charged at Ammon. While I ran, I saw that the wolf that was helping us looked in trouble. The guards circled him and were stabbing at him with their spears, and by the blood beneath, some had made their marks.

  “Caleb, help him,” I yelled.

  He still looked weak but he straightened and started to chant. It felt like with every passing line, he grew in strength, as did I.

  I chimed in, easily repeating his words now. Guards and partygoers alike all fell to the ground.

  But one had risen. Tsamiti started coming at me again, his face was smeared with blood and he sneered at me.

  Not dead after all.

  Pity.

  He’d taken a blade from a fallen guard, and slashed out at me. I danced away, trying to keep his blade hand on my right side where I could see it.

  “Tsamiti, finish the ritual now,” Ammon cried out.

  Sara was in his arms, while I dealt with the mage, who ignored Ammon’s commands and charged me again, focused on finishing me off.

  He chased me almost to the blue pit and I had a minute of pure panic as we neared the flames.

  It was if the fire had come alive, loving the attention, growing brighter and bigger.

  “Phoebe, duck,” Caleb yelled as he sprinted our way.

  I did, barely missing a spear that he’d plunged at the guard formerly known as George. Unfortunately, George ducked, too.

  “You, imbeciles,” Ammon yelled. “How dare you muddy the Pillar of Life before I heal my beloved?”

  Even as I danced away from my enemy, I saw how he placed Sara next to Izzara and unsheathed his long sword.

  As Caleb came to my side to help, Tsamiti retreated toward Sara. He’d gotten dangerously close to her when Caleb threw a fireball at our opponent. It was a direct hit. This time when he went down, he stayed down.

  “Why didn’t you do that earlier?” I yelled.

  “Couldn’t,” was all he said as he grabbed the knife out of my hand. His reflexes were so fast that I didn’t even get the chance to yell when he cut my hand and smeared my blood across his palms. He chanted rapidly and a glowing red globe appeared between his hands.

  He threw it at Sara and she went down.

  Ammon roared and charged at Caleb, who said to me, “Go get her. I’ll cover your back.”

  As I ran toward her, the injured coyote recovered enough to jump at Ammon.

  Ammon still had his blade, though, and stabbed the animal in the side. It went down with a yelp and didn’t get back up.

  The three of us, Ammon, Caleb and me, were competing in a race to the finish line: Ammon to complete the ritual, and us to stop it.

  Ammon slashed out as Caleb tried to summon another fireball, causing Caleb to duck and lose his concentration.

  Without a thought as to whether I could do it or not, I asked for a fire and my palm provided. I threw it at Ammon but he moved quickly enough to avoid it.

  He came toward me and I sent another directly toward his face but my attention was caught as Caleb ran toward Sara.

  Ammon used that moment to charge forward. I had hesitated a fraction of a second too long to avoid him completely, but managed to turn so that his knife went into my arm and not my chest, where he’d been aiming.

  It was still bad enough. My entire arm reverberated with the shock as the blade penetrated bone and my ears rang. I thought I would faint.

  He tried to retrieve the knife but it was stuck. I tried to twist away, and caught a glimpse of Caleb chanting over Sara’s body, which now lay on the ground by Izzara’s pedestal.

  At that moment, Ammon gave up on the knife and started choking me instead.

  “So be it,” he snarled in my face. “I tried to save you for her sake, but you made your choice. Now you will serve as the sacrifice of love,” he snarled.

  I tried to summon power but the pain was too great. I couldn’t focus. The bleeding from my arm, the ringing in my head, and the horrible, horrible smoke from the burning Sleepers that still stung my eye, were all taking their toll. The adrenaline that had gotten me through the day so far was quickly fading.

  Dark spots had filled my vision when Ammon suddenly cried out and his hands fell from my throat.

  The coyote that had fallen was back. It leapt toward Ammon’s throat but Ammon managed to twist away. The animal came up again and this time sunk his teeth into Ammon’s shoulder, narrowly missing the jugular he’d aimed for.

  I gasped a harsh breath as Ammon fell upon me, sending us crashing to the ground. With great burst of strength, he finally pulled the knife from my arm just in time to slash the coyote’s throat as it came toward him again.

  I used that small window to roll sideways, frantically wiping sweat and blood from my face so I could see where Sara and Caleb were.

  He sat on the ground, holding her body in his lap, chanting non-stop.

  Ammon followed my gaze and abandoned his assault on me. He looked between the two of them, the flung the ceremonial knife.

  It landed directly in Sara’s chest.

  Caleb and I screame
d in unison while Ammon, with a triumphant smile, charged forward.

  Exhaustion evaporated. I was ready for blood.

  I drew power from the earth, from the sky. Even the flames of the pits wavered towards me, bathing me with the heat of their flames. As the blue flames grew near, I let loose before they could touch me. Everything I had concentrated into the single bolt I flung straight at the back of Ammon’s neck.

  The sizzling sound of electricity arcing through wire and metal filled the air. His body spasmed and sparks blew out from the now-blackened skin of his neck. He fell face down, twitching, and then went still.

  “Bulls-eye,” I muttered.

  My victory was short lived. In the midst of the bodies surrounding us, I could see Sara bleeding profoundly from her chest wound but what caught my attention on the right stopped me in my tracks.

  On the spot where the coyote was just a second ago, now lay Nathan, naked and also bleeding to death.

  I started to run toward Sara then saw Caleb had gathered her body and was working over it. I spared a second to rush toward Nathan.

  How was this possible? Was Nathan the coyote? Was he the one following us around and saving us? Why? How?

  My mind spun. I reached out my hand, trembling and weak, to touch his blood-streaked hair.

  The sound of running footsteps brought my head up in time to see Caleb carrying Sara to the blue flames.

  Oh, God, no.

  “Caleb what are you doing?” I yelled as I struggled to my feet.

  “Trust me,” he called back. “This will heal her.”

  But at what cost? Torn, I looked down at Nathan. “What about him?”

  Caleb only called out, “I don’t know” as he laid Sara gently onto the stone ledge of the pit.

  I bent down, struggling to lift Nathan. My attention wavered when the flames shot into the air, claiming Sara, pulling her into their midst. I left Nathan and ran toward the fire, screaming for my cousin.

  Caleb caught me as Sara’s body was thrust upward into a wall of blue and white light, spinning her like the eye of a hurricane.

  “Wait, Phoebe, wait. Trust me!”