“And we are the goddess’ chosen. No harm will come to her in our care.”
“I’ll be alright,” Liane told him.
There was still too much left unsaid between them, but now wasn’t the time to argue. Ludwig let them go, and as she looked at Ludwig and Luzie one last time over her shoulder, she saw Luzie leaning against him. Last night and today hadn’t gone as she’d planned, to be certain, but this was what she’d come for, to unlock the temple’s mysteries and her own. She turned her eyes to the path ahead. Maybe tonight’s ceremony was Cyra’s way of sending her a sign that she’d draw the sword out at last. Liane had come here to learn how to use her power, and the oracles were the most powerful figures in the country, apart from the Avatheos. Perhaps. Together, they could help her draw the sword out of her back. They headed toward the shrine room, where Sylvie had begun the tour days before. And the halls were lined with acolytes and priests. They held candles in their hands, which flickered as she walked past and cast strange shadows over their features, making the exposed lower half of their faces appear ghoulish. They hummed under their breaths, and the sound of it made her skin prickle and her scar throb.
After passing through the priests, she stepped into the temple room where Cyra’s statue stood. A window in the ceiling had been opened, and moonlight bathed Cyra and gave her statue a heavenly glow. Thirteen figures stood in a half circle, flanking both sides of the statue like the wings of a great bird. The Avatheos stood in the center.
The priestesses who escorted her departed, and the doors to the room were closed. No one spoke for several long minutes, and Liane felt as if her breathing were too loud in the hushed space.
Then the statue began to groan and shake. She stumbled back a step as the statue slid aside on invisible tracks, revealing a passageway down into the darkness. The discovery of a hidden passageway in the temple was dampened by the crowd watching. The group turned as one and marched down the stairs. And without other instructions, Liane assumed she must go down as well. Liane licked her suddenly dry lips.
It shouldn’t have surprised her that there was a secret passageway in the temple. She’d spent most of her childhood underground in catacombs and crumbling tunnels. But the air in here had a sweet odor that faintly reminded her of stardust and made her uneasy. The stairs descended into a wide vaulted room, circled by large pillars, which seemed to be carved from stone. In the center of the room was a raised dais with a bleating sable goat tethered to it. There was a channel in the floor, circling the dais and then spreading outward in a pattern she could not discern.
The Avatheos stood behind the goat and beckoned Liane closer without a word. She stood before him and felt the strange sizzling of his magic sweep over her. She was awkward and out of her depth, having no clue what her role was in this bizarre ceremony.
“Liane Starweber.” The thirteen spoke together with one voice, and it echoed around the room, seeping into her bones, making her body feel heavier.
“Yes?” Her voice trembled as she spoke.
“You come before the oracles to be initiated into the Church of Sol as one of our priestesses and our avatar. Your magic shall be tested, and should you be found worthy, you will be welcomed into the fold of the church. Should you fail, you shall be cast out from this place and your name erased from the records.”
A cold hand seemed to have grasped at her nape, and Liane had to fight the urge to shiver.
“Do you understand?” they asked.
“I—Uh—Yes?” she said.
“Begin.”
The Avatheos broke rank to approach the goat. He grasped its nape, and its eyes rolled. Though it bleated, it did not move as he sliced the neck with the ease of long practice. Its blood spilled out onto the dais, rolling down into the channels carved into it. Then he cut open its belly, drawing out its steaming entrails and studying them as its blood dripped off his wrists and splattered onto the stones.
Something fizzled on her skin, and as much as she was horrified by the display, she also couldn’t look away.
“A temptation lies ahead; darkness closes in. You must guard your heart and your purity to prevent the end of all things,” the Avatheos said.
“You saw that?” Liane swallowed past the lump in her throat as her thoughts leapt to Erich. Was he the temptation the Avatheos warned her about?
“You are the goddess’ chosen; I can see it here.” He held up a section of entrails. “The end begins, and we who guard the light must protect it.”
Suddenly, the room was plunged into darkness. Liane felt her heart pounding in her chest as she waited for what would happen next. This was all theater, surely. Not some ill omen.
“The time has come. The darkness shall evade. The time has come. The darkness shall evade,” someone started to chant.
Then a second and a third picked it up, until their voices were surrounding her on all sides, and a strange sensation was creeping over her body. Their words seemed to cast a spell upon her. Liane couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe. The air felt as if it’d frozen in her chest. Her skin prickled, and the hair on her arms stood on end. Then she felt the glow building in her gut, burning deep within her. It flowed outward. It started like a faint illumination, before it got brighter and brighter. It coursed through her, thrumming in her veins, and cast shadows on the walls around her.
The priests stopped chanting, but their voices echoed inside her head as the murals on the walls seemed to come alive—deer leapt, farmers plowed, and women harvested wheat. The stars on the ceiling began to spin; they circled around and around, faster and faster, until she started to feel dizzy from it and feared she might vomit if she didn’t look away. But she couldn’t look away. No matter how hard she tried.
And then the stars formed together to make a face. A woman. Her lips curled in a mischievous smile. She spoke words that Liane didn’t know the language of, but she felt their meaning at her very core.
“I’ve been waiting a very long time for you. A destiny written in your blood. The one who will cleave the dark and free me at last.”
She had no way of knowing for sure, but it must be the Nameless Goddess—the sister of Cyra, who’d betrayed her and brought corruption into the world. She felt the woman reach out toward her through the dark, but when her hands brushed against the light, she hissed and recoiled. The light grew brighter, burning hot enough that Liane had to close her eyes, as if she were staring into the sun. Then she felt the warm brush of a hand against her face, and she opened her eyes and thought she was seeing Cyra, but when she blinked, the face was gone.
It was all too much. And then Liane’s knees buckled under her, and she fell to the ground. The light faded from around her, and the silence that fell was deafening. The priests and priestesses swarmed her, but none dared to touch her. She lay immobile for what could have been minutes or hours—she wasn’t entirely sure. Then she saw the Avatheos standing over her, offering her a hand.
She stood up on shaking feet and turned to face the oracles. They were no longer standing but kneeling before her, as was the Avatheos.
“She has come, the goddess’ chosen, at last,” the Avatheos said.
