Sacrifice

by Sadie Moss

  After my fifth dirt-cloud coughing fit, I wriggle on Echo’s shoulder with an annoyed grunt. “I can walk, you know.”

  His laughter rumbles beneath my belly. “Ah, yes. So I’ve seen. You can run too, little soul. Quite fast. And you see, I’m too lazy for all that chasing.”

  “You’re too lazy for much of anything,” Paris replies in his slow, easy drawl. I’m coming to recognize which voice belongs to who, having dangled upside down for the majority of this journey with nothing but my hearing to identify them as they talked.

  “Speak for yourself,” Echo shoots back. “The only thing you chase is sex.”

  “Well worth the effort.”

  I hear a weary sigh, and I figure it’s Callum, probably wondering why he’s stuck with these two. In that, he and I have much in common.

  I hear the bustle of civilization before the road transforms from rusty dirt to cobblestone. Voices shout, advertising goods at market and haggling over prices. A cart passes by on my right, and I tilt my head to watch, stunned to see that it’s driving itself—no horse pulls it, but the wheels roll steadily along nonetheless. The rust-colored landscape disappears, replaced by tall buildings and homesteads, while the peace of the wild, empty space turns into the clangs, clanks, and crashes of a well-populated, well-traveled area.

  Even upside down, I hear the way people stop talking as we pass. Proof, at least, that a man carrying a woman over his shoulder isn’t the norm for this particular place. Small mercies.

  Lifting my head, I try to get a good look around before my abdominal muscles and neck protest. We pass by a large market as a young woman uses magic to light the flame beneath her cauldron. The booth above her is illuminated by a lantern that doesn’t flicker with firelight—something else is keeping it alight.

  Probably magic.

  I’ve always known of magic’s existence, but seeing it used as such a casual part of daily life makes it more amazing to me somehow. My fingers itch to take the lantern apart and learn its secrets.

  On my left side, another woman walks by dragging a plump white dog on a lead, and I’m spellbound by the sight. I haven’t seen a dog in years. They weren’t hearty enough to survive when the world began to starve. The dog’s pink tongue lolls out the side of his mouth. He looks like he’s smiling.

  I grunt as I fall back against Echo. I want to keep staring, but my muscles are starting to shake, and I don’t want to use up all my strength on ogling. I may very well need it when we get wherever we’re going.

  “Where are we?” I mutter against his shirt. His body is warm beneath mine, and I try very hard not to inhale too deeply as my face brushes against the soft fabric of his clothing. He has an intoxicating scent, something like a blend of plum and clove, with other notes I can’t quite describe. It seeps into my nostrils no matter how hard I try to stop it, and I’m not sure I’ll ever get it out of my system.

  “Kaius’s city. Ironholde,” Echo replies, skirting through a group of giggling youngsters. One small boy bends to look up at me with a snaggle-toothed grin, then races off after his friends.

  Lovely. I’m a sideshow.

  “It sounds like a big place,” I comment.

  “It is a big place.” He pauses, giving me another pat on the ass and leaving his hand there this time. “When we get inside the palace, don’t speak unless spoken to.”

  I grit my teeth. It’s humiliating to be carried through town like this, as if I were little more than an object, and Echo’s casual way of touching me makes my heart beat harder with equal parts irritation and… something else.

  Something I won’t let myself dwell on.

  “Why not?” I demand, squirming again as I try to dislodge his hand. “I’m not going to just melt into the curtains and pretend I don’t exist.”

  He snorts a laugh. “That’s what I’m worried about.”

  I mull that over as we start walking up an incline of boards that reminds me of a drawbridge. By the way sound has dimmed around us, I can tell we’ve gotten away from the crowds. Up ahead, Callum murmurs an unintelligible greeting to someone, and then I hear the clank of a lock opening.

  “Remember what I told you,” Echo mutters urgently. There’s no hint of humor in his tone now. “Do you understand, soul?”

  I nod, then realize he can’t possibly see my head. “Yes.”

  I’m confused by the man’s concern. None of the three warriors who captured me have overtly tried to hurt me, but it’s clear they don’t care about me one way or the other. Somehow, my soul ended up in the wrong section of the afterworld, and by carting me to Kaius, they’re doing their sworn duty. Or something.

  But Echo sounded really worried. Worried about me.

  It makes me more inclined to heed his warning, although I’ve always had a hard time keeping my mouth closed when I should. Especially when I’m afraid—which I am right now.

  We pass through a door and into a courtyard, and the ground beneath me turns from stone and thrush to marble slab polished to within an inch of stardust as we step inside a building. I turn to look up again and catch glimpses of gold-threaded tapestries, fine art, and those strange magical lanterns glowing steadily overhead.

  This must be the god’s palace.

  All three men have fallen silent. I’d become so used to the constant banter between Echo and Paris that their sudden silence weighs on me. I know nothing about Kaius, but the severity with which his servants are treating this visit has shaken me.

  Am I walking into a snake pit?

  Or rather, being carried into one.

  Ahead of us, another lock opens, and the scent of burning sage tickles my nose. I recognize the smell from back home. Sage is used to purify spaces, to create fresh beginnings. Hope. It’s why my mother chose it as my namesake.

  Echo’s hand slides off my ass, and he holds tightly to my thighs as we pass into this new room.

  The atmosphere inside is hushed and reverent. None of my companions make a sound, nor does any booming, otherworldly voice shake the world around us. Is their god in here? This must be his throne room; I’d bet anything on it. And as we make our way through the large space, I become certain I’m right when a stifling, overwhelming power begins to fill my senses.

  A god.

  I’m in the presence of a god.

  I watch the floors pass beneath Echo’s feet—the same luxurious marble as the rest of the palace, surely worth more than the wealth of my entire village combined.

  Finally, the three men come to a stop.

  “My liege,” Callum says in his gruff voice. “Praise Kaius.”

  Echo and Paris repeat the words dutifully. “Praise Kaius.”

  “Greetings, my messengers. What is this? Do you bring me a gift?”

  The god’s voice is surprisingly human. I suppose I expected some magical echo or a sound like I’d never heard before. Alas, his voice reminds me of Jacob, which also reminds me the man from my village won’t be able to call on me tomorrow.

  For a brief moment, my mind flits to what might be happening in my village even now.

  Have they found my body? Does Mother know? Does Nolan?

  Grief and guilt make my stomach tighten into a rock, and I shove all of those thoughts away. I did what I did to save my village and my people, but I can hardly bear the thought of my mother and Nolan having to bear witness to the aftermath of my sacrifice—my body sprawled across a bloody altar.

  It was worth it. It has to have been worth it.

  “She can be a gift, should you choose,” Callum offers, and his casual words snap me out of my reverie like a painful bee sting.

  I stiffen, my mouth opening already as I prepare to rail at him for offering me up like a suckling pig. But Echo’s fingers dig into my leg in warning, and I snap my jaw shut.

  “If not meant as a gift, what is it?” Kaius questions.

  “As we were patrolling, we found this lost soul wandering in the Unclaimed Expanse. We retrieved her and brought her here for her final place
ment.”

  Final placement.

  Those four syllables carry so much more weight than any words ought to. They sound so… final.

  “Well, put her down then.”

  Echo bends, and my feet touch the floor, the magical bindings falling away as soon as I take my own weight. But my whole body tingles from the position I was in for so long, and I nearly topple over as all the blood rushes from my head. The dark-haired man takes hold of my arms and catches my gaze, steadying me with a playful smirk.

  Where Callum is all raw power and intimidating brawn and Paris is much too perfectly proportioned to be real, Echo is more roguishly handsome, a little rougher around the edges. But something tells me that of the three, he has the purer heart.

  Maybe that’s why I’m suddenly having a hard time letting go of him. I clutch at his arms, terrified to turn around. If I thought power rolled off my three traveling companions in waves, it’s nothing compared to the vortex of energy at my back. There’s no doubt in my mind the being whose court I’ve been carried into could snap me in half with a single command.

  When I have my balance again, Echo gently turns me around to face Kaius.

  The god lounges on his throne, one leg thrown casually over the arm of the chair and a look of boredom on his handsome face. He’s wearing finely made breeches and a silk shirt, and his hair gleams like polished bronze. He appears almost human with his normal clothes and relaxed posture, but when I look closer, I see something in his expression, in his eyes, that seems older and more primitive than time itself.

  He lifts his chin and regards me, gazing down his long, straight nose. “What is your name, girl?”

  Farse it all. I’m getting really tired of being called “girl” like I’m a child.

  “Sage Thorne,” I reply, because there’s no way I’m ignoring a god’s direct question, even if he just insulted me.

  Kaius nods once, his foot bouncing languidly. “Sage Thorne, how came you to be in the desolate wastelands outside my city?”

  This question, I wish I could ignore. But I can't refuse to answer a god, even if he isn’t my god.

  “My people are starving,” I say, trying to put more strength in my voice than I currently have in my body. My legs are trembling slightly, and I can only hope neither the god nor any of his servants have noticed. “My village has fallen on the worst season of its existence. My brother…” I swallow. “My brother was gravely injured, and my mother didn’t even have the necessary herbs to help heal him and stave off infection. Things were becoming worse and worse, so in an attempt to gain favor from our god and help my people, I sacrificed myself on our sacred altar.”

  Echo’s body jerks slightly at that. He’s standing so close to me that I can feel it, and Callum, who’s on my other side, gives me an intense, penetrating look I can’t quite read. Paris makes a low noise in his throat.

  Kaius’s brows lift, then he frowns. “You did not sacrifice to me, else I would know. Who is your god, girl?”

  “Zelus.”

  The change in the deity before me is immediate. The word isn’t even fully past my lips before Kaius snarls, leaping to his feet. “Zelus? Are you to tell me you sacrificed your life on behalf of my useless, piece of nish brother?”

  I stumble backward at the god’s sudden rage, but I only make it a half step before I run into the solid wall of Echo’s chest. His hand alights on my lower back, out of sight of Kaius but firm and steady. As if he’s silently urging me to remain still and calm.

  “Yes… sir,” I reply, drawing strength from Echo’s touch. I don’t know why his warm, broad palm against my back is so calming, but it is. “In order to protect my family and my village, I sacrificed myself to Zelus.”

  Even as I speak the words, I realize there’s nothing I can say that will placate this god. Kaius formed his opinion of me the moment I uttered Zelus’s name, and it’s too late to change that now.

  “You idiot girl,” he says coldly, his features twisting with disgust. “What a waste of a good soul.”

  I blink at the icy rage on his face.

  Oh, nish.

  7

  Since the moment I completed the sacrifice on Zelus’s altar and arrived in the afterworld, I’ve been constantly off-balance, fear and confusion battling for dominance in my mind.

  But the terror I feel right now dwarfs anything that came before it.

  “Any human soul,” Kaius says in a voice that makes my blood run cold, “who would sacrifice itself for Zelus is trash. Waste. Filth not worthy of being in my kingdom.”

  The towering god stares down at me as if I’m the lowest of low. Dirt, rather than a human soul. His eyes have grown black as pitch and are so full of fury, I swear I can see flames in their depths.

  What on earth happened between Zelus and Kaius to cause this level of distaste? Gods are, well, gods. What kind of petty argument could immortal, omnipotent beings have with each other? Not that I actually want to know. I’d probably just end up hating both of them for being stubborn and pigheaded.

  But now Kaius hates me, and I don’t know what to say to make it better. I can’t change my story. This world may be magical, but I don’t have access to the power to turn back time and tell him something fabricated.

  I shouldn’t have said anything to begin with.

  Kaius sits back down, falling back into his lazy sideways position as if he didn’t just leap up in a fit of rage a moment ago. The anger is gone from his voice, leaving nothing but a bland matter-of-factness. “There’s no place in my realm for my brother’s scraps. Your soul is forfeit. I’ll rip you from the fabric of existence. Undo you completely.”

  My body stiffens, and my heart tries to crawl out of my throat at those last words. Undoing me completely sounds an awful lot like snuffing my existence out. Extinguishing me like a flame. Just making me… not be anymore.

  I was fully prepared to sacrifice myself for my family—for Nolan—and even as I plunged the blade into my chest, I wasn’t sure if an afterlife truly existed. But now that I know? Now that I’m here? The idea of being snuffed out entirely sends stark terror flooding my senses.

  If I cease to exist, what happens to my consciousness? To my memories? To my essence?

  Fear makes all the hair on my body stand up, and I shift my weight to the balls of my feet, ready to flee. I will not go down without a fight.

  But before I can say or do anything, Echo clears his throat and steps in front of me. His stance is loose, unconcerned, his hands dangling at his sides. From behind him, though, I can see the way his muscles are tensed and bunched beneath his cotton shirt. “My liege. Forgive my impudence, but should we also consider the girl’s noble deed?”

  I glance at Echo, surprised at the way he’s questioning his god’s decree. Is he standing up for me? Why?

  Kaius scoffs. “Sacrificing herself to Zelus isn’t noble. He deserves no sacrifice. No worshippers. Nothing.”

  The man in front of me takes another step forward and opens his hands in a supplicating gesture. “She’s never met Zelus before, my liege. Before she came here to stand before your greatness, she had surely never met a god.”

  I school my face into impassivity, but it’s hard not to laugh at the way Echo is laying it on thick with his god. Kaius has to see through this, I think, studying the god’s stony face.

  Unless he’s so arrogant he can’t see when his subjects are blatantly manipulating his narcissism for their own needs. Honestly, if that were true, it wouldn’t surprise me.

  “My brother has a point,” Callum says in his deep, resonating tone. I jerk at the sound of his voice. He is the last man I would’ve expected to speak up on my behalf. We met just a few hours ago, but he’s already made it quite clear he has little regard for me.

  “Does he?” Kaius narrows his eyes, transferring his attention to the long-haired warrior.

  “I believe so.” Callum nods, his expression thoughtful. “While we know Zelus’s true nature as a useless villain, she does not.
All she knew before coming here was that Zelus was her god, and that she owed him fealty.”

  “Sacrificing oneself to one’s god is a great debt of fealty paid,” Echo adds. He’s still standing in front of me, partially obscuring my view of Kaius.

  “Let us not forget an even more important fact—she didn’t sacrifice herself for Zelus,” Paris puts in, a half-smile on his face, as if this entire situation amuses him to no end. “She sacrificed herself to save her people. She did it for them, not for her pitiful excuse for a god. That is noble, my liege. Don’t you think?”

  Kaius’s lips are set in a grim, straight line, and a muscle ticks on one side of his face as his jaw clenches. A long, long minute passes as my heart beats like a drum in my chest. My entire body aches from the tension in my muscles, and with every second that ticks by, it becomes harder to breathe. I doubt he’ll spare me from his wrath, and I’m fairly certain three more people have been added to his smiting list.

  Although I don’t think any of these three men are human—or were ever human. So maybe they can’t be snuffed out. Maybe that’s what gives them the courage to try to change their god’s mind.

  Then Kaius finally lets out a harassed sigh and pinches the bridge of his nose. He stands slowly, and even though his physical stature doesn’t change, he looms over us, seeming larger and even more formidable than he was before.

  “I do not appreciate you challenging my decisions!” he booms. The declaration shakes the very ground beneath my feet, and I stumble back a step.

  “Yes, my liege.” All three brothers chorus the line, their vastly different voices a symphony of sound as they bow their heads in supplication.

  “I expect better from you, my loyal messengers,” Kaius goes on. “You know that my word is law.”

  “Yes, my liege.” Again, perfectly in unison.

  They’ve done this a few times before, I believe.

  “But…” Kaius draws the word out, his voice still resonating with power. “You have served me faithfully for many hundreds of years,” he muses. “I cannot deny that.”