Chapter Seven
A Life Restrained
“Isaac!”
He sprinted down the stairs, feeling like he wasn’t touchingthem at all.He dodged through a gauntlet of crumbled stone, dusty cobwebs, andscattered human skulls.Above, the ceiling of the stairwell was the segmentedvertebrae of the giant, unknown creature, each arc of bone like a moon crashingfrom the sky.
“Isaac!”
Soon, he couldn’t see the stairs.The darkness had grownthick with frightening speed.He could only feel his gasps for air, hispounding footsteps, his body’s instinctive sense of where the next perch wouldlie.Each step into the black was a leap and a prayer.
He should’ve untied himself.
He should’ve immediately fled for the tomb.
He should’ve never cast a fireball at a fucking pirate ship.
The stairs ended without warning, startling him, thetransition to flat ground sending him sprawling across a floor of smooth tiles.Isaac barely felt the impact.He scrambled, running again, having no idea wherehe was going.Down below the earth, in the heavy silence brought by rock andsand, every sound echoed like a clarion.
The loudest sound was footsteps.They were coming frombehind.They were moving at a very fast pace.
Louder, faster, closer.
With a deep animal panic, Isaac noticed he was in acorridor, and there was some kind of green light ahead, flickering like fire.Suddenly, he spotted the outlines of pews and carpets, each of them assembledin rows.When he dashed into the room, the ceiling widened up into a cavernousvault, with a segment of the titan’s vertebrae acting as the apex.Below,surrounding him, there were pillars of stone connected by curving arches.
Arcaded piers, Isaac thought.
Lessons of architecture wormed through his mind.He noticedthe reliefs carved across the trestles, the subtle corrugation of the piers.Anave was the center aisle of a church.The wings were called transepts.Thespace behind the altar was the apse.
This was a chapel for the dead.
Footsteps behind him.
Louder.
Faster.
Closer.
The light he had seen was a ring of green fire surroundingthe piers, each of them torches burning inside a wall-mounted sconce.Ahead, atthe foot of the altar, an onyx statue stood beneath the vaulted ceiling,depicting two figures together.One was human, kneeling with clasped hands, andthe other was a zoanthrope whose species he had never seen before.The standingbeast held a clenched fist to the air.At its feet, the human was witheringinto bone.
Isaac felt a snarl behind his back.
Rotted carpet bunched at his feet.He reached the stairsbefore the altar.He felt the rushing wind behind him.In a single moment ofclarity, he saw the stripes and stars symbol patched on the human figure of thestatue.
Zaria tackled him with the gracefulness of a carriage,sending both of them sprawling across the floor in a vicious tangle of limbs.Isaac cracked his head against the carved reliefs of the altar.Dazed,breathless, he felt a clawed hand gripping his shoulder.He struggled,flinched, gasped.
A dagger pressed into his throat.
“You furless weasel!”Zaria snarled in his face, her teethyellow, her wild eyes reflecting fire.“You sodding ape!”
Isaac squirmed beneath her, pushing and kicking.The bladeof the dagger wedged deeper into his neck.
“Give me a reason!”she yelled.
His neck bulged against the blade with every panickedbreath.“I—you—”
“I’ll fuckin’ do it!You think I haven’t?You think you’llbe special?”Her hand squeezed his shoulder.“We all bleed the same, younglord!I promise you!”
