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“And so Oyomo in his divine wisdom wrought punishment on the land of Otera. For its wayward women had forgotten their place. They had demanded knowledge forbidden to them, defied their helpmeets and the natural order. Chaos did Oyomo rain upon the One Kingdom. Chaos for the arrogance of women. For their refusal to submit.”
The words filter through the door, each one a bitter but familiar poison. All my life, I heard words such as these. Listened to them, obeyed them, believed them to the point of hating myself. Hating everything that I was.
Emotion overcomes me, a familiar deluge. Fear, agitation, horror. And underneath all that, another feeling: rage. Sheer and overwhelming rage. All those years I sat there, listening to that filth. Letting it shape me, poison me. And now who knows how many other people are doing the same. How many girls…
I listen as Elder Durkas continues in that deep, authoritative voice. “But you, the chosen of Otera, can redeem yourselves, redeem your mothers…. Cast yourself into the vale. Give yourself to the Infinite Father, and you and yours shall be honored for this Infinity and the next.”
Cast yourself into the vale…. My fists clench so tightly, I’m surprised they don’t split once more. Already, he’s sacrificing more girls, leading them to their deaths.
Britta turns to me, her expression grim. “Is that him? That rat-snibbler, Elder Durkas?”
“The very same,” I reply past gritted teeth.
“Am I hearing right what he’s saying?” Li says. “Telling the girls to sacrifice themselves?”
“That is what priests do,” Belcalis reminds.
“And this priest enjoys it. Sacrificing girls,” I say. No doubt he treasures the name of every girl he’s caused to lose her life.
Keita turns to me. “What do you want to do?”
“What we always do,” I return. “Intervene.” I turn to Britta. “The door, if you please.”
Britta’s reply is a grim smile. “Me pleasure,” she says. She gives the door a fierce kick.
It goes flying straight down the aisle.
I don’t know who’s more surprised, Elder Durkas or Ionas, the faithless blond boy I once loved, when my friends and I enter the temple. Elder Durkas is, as usual, at the altar, but Ionas is sitting in the front row, reserved for elders of the temple. I see no sign of his mother or father or, indeed, most of the other people I once knew. Half the temple’s congregants are gone, especially the older women. Only the youngest girls and men just past marrying age remain.
It makes sense. If what happened here is anything like what happened on Gar Nasim, the elders likely tried sacrificing the older women to the shadow vales first. But that would not have been enough to satisfy the gods.
It never is.
Elder Durkas’s mouth is so busy gasping open and shut like a fish, it takes him some moments to gather himself. “Deka?” he sputters, shocked. But only for a few moments.
He swiftly pulls himself up to his full height, which, I am amused to see, is not half as imposing as I once thought it was. But then, he himself is not half as imposing as I thought he was, his gaunt features now wizened by age and stress, what remains of his hair in straggles around his head.
“Vile demon, you’ve brought this calamity upon us!” he snarls. He whirls to the villagers. “See, it’s as I warned! The demon, the cause of all our strife, has returned to—”
Before he can finish his words, both Britta and Belcalis rush down the aisle with inhuman speed. They grab him at the same time and force him to his knees.
Keita and Li remain where they are, glowering at the crowd. Daring anyone to move. Ionas, I’m amused to see, shrinks back into his seat, as if he’ll become invisible if he makes himself small enough.
“Want me to shut his mouth permanently for ye, Deka?” Britta offers, her hand gripping Elder Durkas’s gaunt shoulders.
I shake my head. “No, I have better plans for him.” I walk slowly down the gray stone floor, so intent on the aged priest, his eyes now bulging in rage and fear, that I barely notice the villagers hurrying from their seats to flee the temple.
A few of the more foolish ones rush at me, but they’re batted aside by Ixa, who’s in his ox-sized adolescent form.
Then Ionas finally regains his courage. “Foul demon!” he cries, barreling toward me.
He hasn’t taken even a few steps before Ixa slams into him. I smirk when I hear the familiar crunch of breaking bones.
Those would be Ionas’s legs shattering against the stone floor. Barely adequate punishment, given that he ran me through the belly on this very temple’s front steps two years ago. Still, it’ll have to do. I have more important things to attend to.
I stop just in front of Elder Durkas. The elderly priest is now glaring at me, defiance in his rheumy gray eyes.
“Do what you will, foul demon,” he hisses. “I will never bend to you. You and your kind have brought destruction upon Otera and—”
