Page 141 of Sun Warrior

You must choose.

Thaddeus’s answer exploded from within him. “Death!”

Thaddeus watched as the bright light that had always shined from Odysseus’s eyes faded… faded… and went dark.

He bowed his head and pressed his face against the Terrier’s motionless side, and Thaddeus sobbed his grief and rage—not noticing that from Odysseus’s body the verdant moss around them began to curl and die, turning the image of the reclining Goddess as wilted, as ruined, as Thaddeus’s heart.

And now your true future begins. Listen and learn what you must do to create your followers.…

As Thaddeus dug into the mound of ruined moss, dirt, fern, and vines that made up the Goddess idol and at last placed his Terrier to rest, Death continued to whisper dark words to the grieving Hunter, and Thaddeus listened. He listened very well.

CHAPTER 31

As dusk fell on the City, Death stepped out onto the Balcony of the God. He felt good—great actually. That the angry little Tribesman had chosen Death had been a delightful surprise. It had taken only a few whispers to shift the mortal’s destiny—to link it with His own and then send him back into the Tribe.

“And they shall continue to rot from the inside out,” He murmured to Himself. Then He moved to the lip of the balcony and shouted, “Light the fires!”

Below Him Reapers grabbed torches and held them to the bonfire that blazed in the middle of the courtyard. Then they touched the firepots, which roared to life, casting flickering light and shadow around the gathered People who were all staring reverently up at their God.

Death surveyed His army and was pleased. His People stretched, wheel-like, around and beyond the courtyard, and as more and more firepots were lit He could see their bright, eager expressions all upturned to Him. The carcasses of several animals roasted over the central bonfire. Death recognized four rabbits, three turkeys, a small boar, and even a young deer. The People had been busy doing as He’d commanded. His Blade had already reported as much to the God. Groups of the People had scattered into the forest, tracking and capturing creatures untainted by the poisons of the City. Under the watchful eyes of His Reapers, they hadflayed the skin from the living creatures and joined that warm, healthy flesh with their own. Then they sacrificed each creature—quickly, with gratitude—and brought the carcasses back to feast upon. Death could already feel the difference in His people. Their energy was stronger. The young males were beginning to visit Dove’s Attendants to take their ease in the arms of women blessed by service to the Oracle. He laughed to himself.Soon her Attendants will know what it is to be in service to a Goddess.

He spread his arms wide, as if He would embrace them all.

“You have obeyed me, and see what riches you have already begun to receive! Tell me, are you stronger today than you were yesterday?”

“Yes!”the People shouted.

“Tomorrow you will be stronger, and the next day stronger yet. And on the fourth day, at dusk, we will take the City in the Trees as I have foretold, as I have commanded, as I have promised my People!”

The cheers lifting from the courtyard sounded like the roar of a great, insatiable beast. The sound thrilled Death. He gazed down at His People and noticed that they completely avoided one area of the courtyard—the place He’d hurled the mighty metal trident, killing the last of His dissenters. Death turned His head.

“Dove!” He shouted.

Instantly He heard the sound of her small, soft feet against the cracked tile of the God’s chamber.

“I am here, my Lord.”

Her voice pleased Him, though Death knew the truth was that she was terrified of Him—she might even hate Him. Mentally, He shrugged off the thought of her fear and hatred. It mattered little. She had a pleasing body and a gentle voice. She would make an excellent shell for His beloved.

“Little bird, have your Attendants send for Iron Fist. Tell him I want the remains of the traitors cut away from the trident and burned. Not in our courtyard fire, though. Burn them far away from my Temple.”

“And the trident, my Lord?”

“What of it?”

“Do you wish Iron Fist and the Reapers to move it? Perhaps return it here to the Balcony of the God?”

Death threw back His head and laughed. Then He faced His People once more. They quieted instantly.

“My little bird asks if I want the trident returned here, to the statue. Do you know my answer?” There was a waiting silence, into which Death spoke. “My answer is no! I do not need a weapon returned to the hand of an empty statue. Your God will take it with Him to the City in the Trees—ourCity in the Trees!”

The roar of the People’s worship washed against Death.

“Do you worship an empty statue?”

“NO!”the people shouted.

“Who do you worship?”