“What are you talking about?” Unending replied.
“It’s nothing,” a second priestess spoke. “This is not right. Our god demands discretion. These guests are foreigners!”
The first priestess shot to her feet, face red with anger. “I’m tired of this nonsense. How much longer can we go on and pretend that any of this is right?”
“Sister, please—you’ve picked the worst time to rebel,” a third priestess implored.
She wouldn’t budge, shaking her head with newfound determination. As she walked over to our seats, this young priestess was clearly brimming with anger and revolt. Something she’d apparently been keeping to herself for a long time. “Every month, a child disappears in the city,” she said. “Every month, a child is brought here as a silent sacrifice to Shezin. I have served him my whole life, but I have never…” her voice broke. She was on the verge of tears. “I don’t think it’s right.”
“What is your sister talking about?” Unending asked the other priestesses. We’d heard this before from Embry, but she wanted them to tell us themselves. The first had found the courage to speak up. The others had to as well. Otherwise, what was the point?
“It’s a tradition,” the second priestess said. “Shezin, our great god, demands that parents sacrifice one child to him after the full moon. He has us write a letter to the family he selects every month, in one of the cities. Sometimes, he asks more, from two, even three cities. The parents…”
“The parents then bring the child to the temple,” the third priestess conceded.
I got up, blood coursing through my veins like incandescent lava. “You kill children to honor Shezin?”
The first priestess shook her head. “No… He… It’s best if I show you.”
“Sister, don’t!” a fourth exclaimed, the horror draining the color from her cheeks as she looked at us, then back at the others. “Please, don’t…”
“Yeah, too late for that,” Unending replied dryly, pushing her chair back. “All of you stay here. Except for you,” she said to the first priestess. “You show us.”
They wanted to object, but didn’t dare move a muscle. They were paralyzed with fear, and I couldn’t help but wonder what terrified them more—us finding out what Shezin was doing deep in the bowels of this temple, or Shezin finding out that one of them had told us. Either way, I didn’t care for any of it. I just wanted the truth, Anunit’s words echoing in the back of my head.
The first priestess nodded briefly and scuttled across the terrace, the folds of her white silk robe dancing in the morning breeze. The pink agate pearls around her ankles rattled as she walked. We followed closely, down the stairs all the way to the ground floor, where she brought an index finger to her lips, asking us to be quiet.
“It’s why he wanted us to break the fast with you,” she whispered. “So you’d stay busy.”
“Son of a…” I mumbled but swallowed the remainder of my statement. We snuck behind the altar and waited. Mere minutes later, the temple doors opened wide, the wood creaking and moaning as three Dainians came in—a man, a woman, and their young son. He couldn’t be older than six, and he had no idea what was going on.
“Mommy, are we allowed to be in here?” he asked.
His mother showed him the letter and a bronze key. “This came with our god Shezin’s message,” she told him. “We are meant to be here, my love. Our city was chosen this time. Our family.”
The father was quiet and sullen, clearly not on board with any of this. The mother was holding back tears and forcing herself to smile, while the kid gawked at the temple’s grand hall, with its painted ceiling and gold rivers flowing down the walls. It was beautiful and distracting enough to keep his attention away from what would soon happen.
“It’s what our god demands,” the mother told the father.
He visibly struggled to contain his anger. “There has to be another way.”
“You know there isn’t,” she said, a single tear rolling down her cheek. “Every month, a city is chosen. A family is chosen, and an offer must be made to the god. It is our turn, like others before us. Please, help me. I can’t do this alone…”
“We can’t do it together, either,” the father replied.
“Welcome!” Shezin’s voice boomed through the grand hall. The gold seemed to shimmer brighter as he spoke, coming through the stone door. Shezin wore rich peach-colored silks today, with plenty of gold and rubies adorning his neck and wrists. His hair was loose and as smooth as the fabrics covering his tall body, though he still seemed tiny compared to the Dainians. If anything, the child was two heads shorter and would soon reach his height—if he were allowed to live. “It pleases me to see you’ve decided to come. Welcome.”
The parents bowed before him, and the boy nodded once, unsure of how the whole bow thing worked. His knee had bent slightly, but he’d yet to get the hang of the entire movement. Besides, there were so many interesting things in this place that he could barely sit still for more than a moment.
“It is an honor to be here, beloved Shezin,” the mother said, her voice trembling.
“No, no, it is an honor that you have accepted my invitation,” he replied, smiling.
I looked at the priestess for a moment and registered the disgust twisting her lips as she stared at him. In all her years of service, she had not been able to accept this particular custom. I wouldn’t have, either. It was a good thing. It meant this particular Dainian priestess had a conscience. The others, too, but they were fearful of their ruler.
“He has probably punished his fair share of priestesses who disobeyed his orders,” Unending told me telepathically. “Otherwise we wouldn’t be here like this.”
“This one is brave, I’ll give credit where it’s due,” I replied.
“It’s awful. Imagine that Shezin has been killing children for eons, all under the guise of his false religion. I’m sickened,” she said, her gaze wandering back to Shezin. He stood proudly before the parents, the boy glancing up at him in sheer awe.
“A life must be given so that Dain may thrive,” he said. “An innocent life must be given so that the stone giants may keep to the mountains.”
“So it must be,” the mother mumbled.
“Must it?” the father asked.
That got Shezin’s attention. “Do you doubt your god’s will? Every month, an innocent soul is sacrificed, and Dain survives. Dain grows and thrives. More children are born for every one that is brought to me.”
“It’s not true,” the priestess whispered, huddled next to Unending behind the altar. “The stone giants have no interest in our land or children. They care not for sacrifices.”
“He’s lying,” Unending murmured.
The priestess nodded. “Every month, people in one of the cities of Dain are made to sacrifice their child. Sometimes, even two cities at once… Shezin demands it.”
“And you serve him,” I shot back.
“We’re sworn to secrecy before we learn of this ritual. We take our oaths seriously.”
“That, and you fear retaliation,” my wife said, sighing.
Shezin shook the boy’s hand. “You’re doing your kingdom a true honor, young man. The realm will flourish with your spirit.”
“What does that mean?” the kid asked, while the mother swallowed back another wave of tears. The father was already broken and inconsolable, barely able to even look at his son.
“It means your life is given with honor and love,” Shezin said, then shifted his focus on the parents. He took out his scythe and offered it to them. “You must be the ones to do it. I cannot.”
“Huh?” the mother was stunned, gawking at the blade in his hands. It was sharp enough to kill. It lacked any other properties for the mortal holding it, but it was still a weapon. It could take a life.
Unending stormed out from behind the altar and waved her weapon from left to right. Its blade shone white, and it made Shezin’s scythe fly across the room. It hit the wall and lan
ded on the marble floor with a sharp clang. “I’ve had enough of this nonsense,” she said.
The priestess stayed hidden, but I came out, unwilling to let my wife stand alone against this monster. Shezin was not pleased to see us, his usually pleasant expression melting into a hateful sneer. “My girls were supposed to—”
“Keep us busy while you fooled two more parents into killing their child for you? Have you lost your damn mind?” Unending snapped, her scythe still burning white in her hand.
The parents huddled with their child, suddenly confused and afraid. I nodded toward the door. “You’d best leave now,” I told them. “Leave, and let your people know that your god is a fraud. He should never have demanded the lives of your children.”
“You shouldn’t get involved,” Shezin warned, casually walking to get his scythe. “This is none of your business. This is not your world. I welcomed you under my roof. Gave you a bed to sleep in. Offered you kindness and hospitality.”
“In exchange for what, exactly? Closing our eyes to the atrocities you’re committing under the pretext of a false religion?” I shot back.
Unending pushed him away from his weapon with a telekinetic hit. He hissed as the air rippled and smacked his wrist, breaking a few bones. “No, you don’t,” she said. “This ends here.”
“Leave!” I shouted at the Dainians, and they finally scrambled backward. The father scooped his son up, and they bolted past the doors, leaving us alone with Shezin. He grew angrier with every second that passed. I understood now that he reveled in the murders of children. He probably projected himself in a second or even a third temple when he demanded multiple sacrifices, forcing the priestesses and the grieving parents to keep this to themselves while he got his kicks. What a disgusting creature he was. What a horrible secret Dain had been hiding for so long…“No wonder Anunit wants him dead.”
“Right?” Unending replied, shaking her head slowly.
“Who?” Shezin asked.
“It’s really none of your concern. Let’s just say someone brought you to our attention, and if at first we were doubtful about killing you, well… consider those doubts gone,” Unending said. “How long have you been doing this, and why?”
Shezin watched us for a while, and I could almost hear the wheels turning in his head. He was working on a way to get himself out of this mess. I doubted he had anything, seeing as his scythe was still on the floor. After a few seconds of heavy silence, the air thick as frozen butter between us, he spoke again, troublingly casual in his approach.
“I got bored. I got bored, and I decided a monthly sacrifice will keep my spirits high. It works, believe it or not,” he said. “Every month, a parent brings me their child, I give them the whole ‘do it for the realm’ speech. They gobble it up because they’re ignorant fools, and I’m the one with the magic. They gobble it up, and they kill their children right in front of me. It pleases me immensely. Plus, it gives this place a sense of order. For all the good I’ve done, I don’t want the Dainians to get too comfortable. This formula works.”
“You sick son of a—”
“Don’t you dare come in here all high and mighty and judge me,” he cut Unending off. “This is my realm. I make the rules. They obey them. Everyone’s happy.”
“Except for the families who have children to bury because of you. Worst of all is you blame the stone giants for it. Is this why Death let you live? Is this why she gave you a scythe? So that you could torment people?” I asked.
Shezin laughed. “She doesn’t even know who I am anymore.”
“We know,” Unending replied. “We saw the memories, you spineless bastard. But it’s over now. You’re done. You’re not killing anyone anymore.”
“I never killed anyone,” Shezin retorted. “There is no blood on my hands.”
“Only in your wretched soul,” Unending said.
“Oh, spare me this self-righteous crap. She left me here! For an eternity! I can’t leave until the planet dies and withers away, and even then, there’s no telling where I’ll go. I’m bored here. I’ve been bored out of my mind for millennia!”
“And this is your excuse?” I asked, gesturing at our surroundings. “Pretending to be a god and forcing parents to kill their children for you? You’re a vile creature… What piece of garbage does this, huh?”
Shezin exhaled sharply, pressing two fingers against his temples. “I believe you’ve found the end of my patience. You are no longer welcome here.”
Unending scoffed. “And I believe I’m not leaving until we kill you.”
“You cannot. I am immortal.”
“No one is truly immortal except for Death,” Unending replied, smiling. “She made it so, and I know she made it so with you, as well. In love or not, she would never forsake her universal nature just to pamper your sorry ass. One way or another, I will end you, Shezin, and Dain will be free of your poison.”
A grin slit his face as he opened his eyes. “You’re fools to think you can kill me, and you’re fools to think I need my scythe to kick you out.”
The temple’s doors burst wide open, and a strong wind broke through, howling through the entire hall. It snuffed out every candle that had flickered until now. It knocked some of the vases and silvery receptacles over and off the altar. We heard the priestess’s terrified squeal, but we couldn’t do anything to help her.
In less than a second, the winds came around from both sides like invisible fists and hit Unending and me in the chest. The air was knocked from my lungs as I was thrown backward. I was weightless, merely a ragdoll at the mercy of the wind.
“I rescind my invitation,” Shezin snarled, and it was done.
Whatever death magic he’d used, he hadn’t needed the scythe in his hand for it, and that just made him even more dangerous. We were thrown out of the temple and past the fifty steps. We landed on our backs, hard and heavy, orange dust rising around us as we dared not move for a while.
Above, the sun was stretching toward noon. The town was quiet around us. I heard rushing footsteps, people running away from the temple. They must have seen the two of us flying through the doors. I dared hope the parents had warned their fair share of Dainians regarding Shezin. After a while, I could breathe again—it wasn’t because of any particular physical discomfort. It was just Shezin’s presence that had made me feel sick to my stomach.
“Are you okay?” Unending asked, stiffly getting back up.
“Yeah…” Back on my feet, I dusted myself off while nervously eyeing the temple. “How the hell did he do that? How’d he kick us out without a scythe?”
Unending sighed heavily. “He probably had conditions put on a warding spell against Reapers coming into the temple. You heard him verbally rescinding his invitation. It must’ve been part of the whole thing. Ugh… we have to find a way to get to him.”
“Our deadline expires tomorrow.”
She nodded once. “At least we’re both on the same page about Shezin.”
“Oh, yeah,” I replied, more determined than ever. “The bastard has to die. Anunit was right.”
In fact, the Reaper had failed to mention how easily we would reach this decision. This monster was claiming to be a god while coercing Dainians to kill their children. It was an absolute nightmare, an abhorrent deed. A monster like him didn’t deserve the privilege of living at all, let alone the perk of living forever. No, this couldn’t be allowed to continue.
We had to find a way to end him.
Sofia
The longer we spent waiting for another shimmering portal, the more restless I became. For the life of me, I couldn’t understand what the clones’ endgame was.
Derek and I stayed mostly in the Great Dome, having centralized all our operations through here. I’d been looking forward to being a part of merciless retaliation, but… nothing.
Not much else had happened since the revelation of the shimmering portals. Time had stood still since, and I doubted I would feel its passing until we got Thayen back
along with Viola and the others.
“You’re going to get sick if you keep this up,” Derek said, coming back from outside with two glasses of blood. One of the agents must’ve brought over some nourishment for us. We were the only ones here for the time being. Phoenix had gone back to the main base to grab some more tracking equipment, as he and Jovi had figured out a way to position videocam drones above The Shade to give us full views of the islands and its glimmering portals. “When’s the last time you ate?”
“I’m not sure,” I replied, but I could feel the hunger returning. It had been circling me for a while, but I’d been pushing it away with thoughts of Thayen’s unknown situation. “Where are Ben and Rose?”
“They’re both on their way back, along with River and Caleb and the kids. The idea is to relieve us so we can get some rest.”
“I doubt I can sleep,” I said.
Derek gave me one of the glasses, and I gulped it down in one go. My stomach buzzed with delight, my insides warming up to the sensation of fresh blood trickling through. “Have this one, too. They’re both for you.” He was smiling.
“Have you had any?”
“Four glasses. I was ravenous,” he chuckled. “As for the sleeping part, it’s okay, Sofia. But we do need to lie down for a while. We’re exhausted and worried sick. Should a shimmering portal open, we’ll need to be at the top of our game if we’re to help our children. This here… this is not the top of our game.”
I let out a heavy sigh. “You’re right. I just… I don’t know what else we can do, my love. He’s somewhere out there—who knows where—and they’re on their own, with no GASP to rely on and probably a horde of clones itching to kill them. I can’t make sense of any of this.”
“Boiling over it in that chair won’t help. Come on,” he said once I finished my second glass of blood, offering me his hand. “Let’s go home. We’ll curl up on the sofa, I’ll put on a record, and we can just rest our eyes for a bit. They know where to find us should something happen. The comms and Telluris are working again, at least for now. There is hope, and our people are ready to jump in as soon as there’s something for us to jump into.”
A Shade of Vampire 89: A Sanctuary of Foes Page 18