Page 63 of The Ruin of Gods


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“Don’t worry, little one. He won’t bite you again.”

“Excuse me if I don’t trust you,” I snap as he resumes dragging me toward a slab of stone at the far end of the cave. I hadn’t noticed it before.

“It’s true,” he insists. “In fact, I’m going to need your powers to return.”

Hope surges within me, and I glance over my shoulder at Rune who remains near the cave mouth. Is Ariman going to stage a coup?

I’m on the verge of asking when Ariman pushes me down onto the stone slab that looks eerily like an altar.

I rebel against such an idea and start to scramble off the other side. Ariman tightens his hold and my arm flies backward with no regard that I might hit the snake. I catch the priest in the chest with my fist and it’s hard enough—and still with enough of my god strength—that he rears back.

I’m free.

My feet hit the cave floor, my hands pressed to the stone as I square off against the priest across the altar. His eyes flash with the promise of retribution, but if I’m going to make a stand, it might as well be now. I learned something important from him and for whatever reason, he needs my powers to return.

Which means he won’t kill me just yet. Perhaps I can escape the cave and hide out until the snake’s venom wears off. And then it’s only a matter of avoiding the serpent and hoping the Blood Stone isn’t more powerful than I am.

All hope is dashed when the stone at his chest starts to glow, a light inside turning it from reddish black to a bright crimson. Ariman doesn’t move a muscle but it feels like hands are on me. Dozens of them, and I’m lifted off the ground, flipped on my back, and slammed onto the surface of the shrine. My head cracks painfully and the breath is knocked out of me. A clanking sound echoes in the cavernous chamber and I lift my head to see thick chains wrapping around my wrists and ankles before pulling tight.

It takes no more than a few seconds before I’m completely incapacitated, spread-eagle on the altar. I test the bonds by pulling on the chains and they don’t budge an inch. I can tell I still have my strength because if I pull hard enough, I bet I could dislocate a shoulder joint. This tells me that the Blood Stone is stronger than me at this point since I’m sure it is solely responsible for my current positioning.

Satisfied I’m going nowhere, Ariman turns to Rune. I roll my head so I can see them both.

“I need to perform another empowerment with Valshour. He’s getting depleted and the gods are waking.”

Rune shakes his head as he walks to us. “No. I want to start the ritual for me.”

“But if the gods regain their power while—”

Cocking an eyebrow at Ariman, Rune says, “You’d question me on this?”

“I’m merely pointing out—”

“Once you merge me with the Blood Stone, it won’t matter if the gods wake up or not.”

Merge him with the Blood Stone? Fear slices through me at what that could mean.

“Don’t do it, Ariman,” I exclaim, drawing their attention. “Don’t give him that power. You have the stone. Send him to hell with it.”

There’s something that flickers across Ariman’s face and I think he might be considering something, but then Rune barks at him, “The ritual. Begin it. Now!”

Ariman makes a deferential bow of his head. “As you wish.”

I huff out my frustration, dropping my head back on the stone slab. I try a few calming breaths but when Ariman approaches Rune I twist my neck to look their way. I need to watch everything in case there’s a lapse.

A weakness I can exploit.

My gaze cuts to the cages, but I can only see the farthest two holding Circe and Veda. Neither god is moving but it doesn’t mean they won’t at any time.

Rune shrugs out of his leather overcoat and unbuttons a leather vest underneath, dropping it to the ground. Ariman has obviously given him some power from the stone as Rune is healthy looking. Well-muscled body, skin glowing with vitality, and a confidence in his bearing that increases my despair. His hands are loose at his sides, his bare chest puffed as if he’s trying to replicate his bearing as a god.

Ariman positions himself before Rune, facing him. The snake is still curled around Ariman’s neck and with a flourish of his hands, a glowing orb the size of a softball appears in his open palm.

A wind flows around us, ruffling Ariman’s long hair. He holds the glowing orb up high and chants in Aramaic. It gets brighter, its glow starting to cover Ariman’s body. With his other hand, he palms the dark red jewel, and with a sharp yank pulls it free from the chain. Rune’s eyes are pinned on the gemstone, glittering with anticipation.

Ariman continues chanting, the words so low I can’t hear them. I can’t think of anything related to the Blood Stone other than what I already knew, that it’s been strengthened by the sacrifices Finley and I made. Now holding light and dark power mixed with the infinite power of the Crimson River in which it was dipped, there’s no telling what it can do.

At this very moment, despite being chained to this altar and my powers depleted, I’ve never felt more inept because I can’t even call forth knowledge from which I might glean some important help.

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