Another nun was dancing wildly, while the sister standing on one leg was starting to have difficulties. She was fighting for her life to not fall over.
“God the Father commands you,” the priest bellowed. “God the Son commands you; God the Holy Spirit commands you…”
“The devil’s tongue,” the sisters repeated.
“No, no, no, no, no…” Idris.
“Cede ergo Deo!”
Idris broke through the circle and tried to get to her. He was wrestled back.
“It’s an apex relic,” he shouted. “It’s an apex… It’s a thrall relic!”
He was pulled by the arms, thrown out of the circle. Seraphina couldn’t see him anymore.
“Vade retro!” Father Anton said in a confident voice, splashing her with more holy water. “Begone! Begone!”
“I’ll go no more a-rovin’ with you, fair maid
A-roving, A-roving, since roving’s been my ru-i-in
I’ll go no more a-roving with you, fair maid”
Seraphina felt hands in her hair, pulling her head back against the pole. Someone grabbed her face to immobilize her, and someone else squeezed her jaw until she was forced to open her mouth. From the corner of her eye, she caught a glimpse of metal.
“No,” she struggled. “No!”
The Mother Superior shoved her fingers into her mouth. Seraphina bit down, and the woman retreated but returned with a pair of pliers that knocked into Seraphina’s front teeth.
She screamed like she’d screamed in the tower of Schloss Ewigheim, when she’d learned Rune had been given her eyes.
She felt the pliers clamp onto her tongue, then a dagger cut it clean off, in one strike. Seraphina’s mouth flooded with blood. It welled up and spilled over her chin and chest, went down her throat until she gagged and choked on it. The sisters released her head, she leaned forward, pulling the ropes taut, and spat right onto the priest’s face. An open, raw scream tore out of her voice box, a formless single vowel, wet and gargling through the blood in her mouth.
She lifted her head and looked around her, took in every stunned face. Father Anton had gone silent. Idris was on the ground, a grimace of horror etched onto his features. The Mother Superior held her tongue, her hands bloody up to the elbows.
Then she heard him. A deep, thunderous roar ripping through the woods. She lifted herself on her toes, neck stretched to its limit. The stump that was left in her mouth had stopped bleeding, and the pain was subsiding. The implanted apex relic was doing its job, healing her fast. Unfortunately, Seraphina doubted it would grow back her tongue.
Rune burst through the gate. He had difficulties keeping straight as he walked. He held his hands up in front of him. The nuns moved out of his way, crossing themselves as he passed. The jumping, flailing nun crashed into him, and he steadied her with one hand on her arm before she pulled free and went back to jumping around.
Seraphina saw the scarf tied around his face. She saw the stitches, how they held together patches of skin in slightlydifferent shades, how the black thread was one with his flesh. He was wearing pants, a tunic, and heavy boots. His throat and the upper part of his chest were visible. His sleeves were rolled up, and her eyes traced the thick veins on his arms, marveled at how his muscles flexed and the stitches moved.
“Seraphina.”
His voice. She shuddered and let out a moan. How she’d longed to hear him say her name.
“Where are you?” He advanced, head tilted, listening over the relentless sea shanty.
“Here,”she wanted to say, but all that came out of her throat was a prolonged “eeee”.
“What in the heavens…” Briar appeared from behind him.
She and Seraphina locked eyes. Briar covered her mouth with her hand and fell to her knees.
Rune somehow managed to find the pole, and his hands roved over Seraphina’s shoulders, arms, sides. With a gasp, he understood that she was bound. He ripped the rope with ease, Seraphina collapsed into his arms, he lifted her and pressed her to his chest.
“What did they do to you?” he asked.
“Mmm…” was all she could manage.
