I retaliated with fire spells, shooting fire bolts over a wide radius in front of me. But they all crashed over the invisible walls of the protective magic circles the cultists were standing in. The runes on the circlets on their foreheads glowed with great intensity, indicating intense activity. I suspected they were fending off Lyall’s mystifying powers.
The only way they could have anticipated and prepared for him was for Elliot to have warned them. Another wave of anger swelled within me as I attempted to parry the flurry of magical attacks from the cultist against us. None of them were of a lethal nature. But with so much focused fire, my protective shields wouldn’t last long.
Lyall was doing a number on the constructs, tearing them limb from limb with his multiple vicious spears. His tongue would shoot out, punching through skin and bone, and leaving a copious amount of his acidic saliva. The skin bubbled andsizzled as the acid ate through their flesh. To my dismay, the severed body parts would quickly glide back towards each other, stitching themselves up at dizzying speed. Even the sickly-sweet smell that rose from the acid burning the constructs dampened, the sizzling stopping in seconds.
The cultists were combining their powers to instantly repair the carnage my companion was doing to their minions.
We couldn’t last much longer. But with so many mages casting mainly kinetic attacks, we were slowly forced into a corner, away from any hope of escape. To my horror, I realized too late that it wasn’t a dead end they were attempting to push us into, but a very specific spot to spring their trap upon us.
My small hairs stood on end as soon as I stepped into the invisible magic circle. It activated and instantly paralyzed me. I attempted to scream, but only a throaty sound came out. Lyall’s panicked voice resonated in my head. His obvious fear for me wrecked me. He rushed towards me as a few more constructs headed in my direction. Unfortunately, in doing so, he exposed his back to our enemies.
A volley of what looked like obsidian daggers flew right at him, embedding themselves in his back. He shouted in pain, the screeching voice of his Reinothar form sounding like nails on glass. I tried to scream for them to stop, but not one sound escaped my throat. I stared in horrified helplessness as even more black daggers impaled him. Simultaneously, the constructs rushed him, stabbing more of the dark weapons in what appeared to be strategic spots. Moments later, Lyall shifted back into his normal form, heavily bleeding.
He growled in rage as he fought back his assailants. Displaying herculean strength, he hurled a few of them halfway across the room, sending them crashing against the columns and stone walls of the Sanctuary. But there were too many. One of them stabbed another one of what I could now see as beingobsidian stones shaped like daggers directly at the base of Lyall’s nape. He emitted a soft gasp that terrified me more than an agonizing scream might have. His body went limp, and for one blood-curdling moment, I feared they had killed him.
The constructs immediately clasped magic shackles around his wrists and ankles. Even from where I stood, trapped in my magical prison, I could feel the insane power emanating from those artifacts. The only consolation I derived from this entire nightmare was seeing the accelerated speed at which blood stopped trickling from his wounds thanks to his insane regeneration. But with the daggers still embedded in him, the Gods only knew what healing around them might do to him.
As if in direct response to that thought, the constructs pulled the obsidian weapons from his back, dropping them to the floor. They instantly shattered and turned to ashes. Four constructs gathered around him and picked him up. They carried him to the altar and carefully laid him face-up on top before hooking the chains at each of its corners to the shackles around his limbs. To my dismay, they stabbed two more obsidian daggers into his shoulders, right below the clavicles. They then stood guard around him, two at the head and two at the feet.
Two more constructs stepped into the magic circle constraining me, apparently immune to its paralyzing powers. They effortlessly placed a mage collar around my neck. It felt as if all my energy and even willpower got sucked right out of me. My limbs weighed a ton. I couldn’t have lifted a finger if I tried. With one arm under my armpits, two constructs lifted me up, my feet hovering a foot aboveground as they carried me to the other side of the recessed altar.
They shackled me to a pole located slightly right of the altar, in the space that separated it from the throne. Helpless fury set my blood ablaze. It wanted to overwhelm me, but I couldn’t allow it. If I gave into anger, despair, or fear, all would be lost.However, how could I not when we were surrounded by far too many cultists to defeat, and with Lyall incapacitated?
I should have listened to my gut feeling that something would go terribly awry. Then again, no one could have guessed that they would be prepared to battle a doppelganger. After all, Elliot had no reason to believe that we were together. He had left long before Lyall decided to take me back to safety.
But the Oracle might have foreseen that possibility.
She circled around the recessed altar to me. I wanted her to remove the wretched mask that hid the upper half of her face. But she merely stood there with a smug smile. Those lips didn’t match my memory. Her neck also didn’t display any hints of an old scar indicating that she was once beheaded. Although her body shared many similarities with the Oracle of my youth, it was different enough to confirm it wasn’t the same person. And yet...
“Thank you for this wondrous gift, my daughter,” the priestess said in a purring tone as she waved at Lyall, restrained on the altar. “You exceeded all my wildest hopes. I was quite upset with you for derailing my plans. You were born for a purpose and escaped before you fulfilled it. But now I see that it was all worth it. The power within you is immense, even though you foolishly failed to fully unlock it. I won’t make that mistake. And with the power he will provide, the Gods themselves will bow before me.”
“What do you want from me?” I hissed.
“Everything,” she replied in a self-evident manner.
To my shock, she tore the front of my vest with surprising force, leaving my breasts exposed. Her gaze roamed over me with a greed that had my stomach roiling. No one within the cult had ever touched me or even looked at me in a suggestive manner. Then again, I had not only been a very young child but also been meant to remain pure until the ritual once I turnedfourteen. And while I still didn’t know whether she truly was my mother, the thought that she could possibly have designs of a sexual nature towards me made me want to gag.
She reached for my breasts with both hands, rubbing her palms over them and giving them a gentle squeeze with a triumphant glimmer in her eyes. As slimy as her touch felt, it struck me more as the way one would touch chattel they’re considering buying rather than a potential lover.
“Yes,” she whispered approvingly. “Young, firm, and beautiful. You are the perfect vessel for me.”
“What?!” I breathed out, refusing to accept the implication behind her words.
She removed the mask hiding the upper half of her face. My jaw dropped at the sight of the badly scarred skin it had covered. Her eyes were almost glued shut, leaving barely a tiny hole between the eyelids. She appeared to have sustained grievous burns or acid injuries. The skin was melted and almost the same angry red as her outfit. Puffy scars hinted at major surgery, climbing up her forehead and disappearing under her hairline.
“Certain enhancements come with a stiff price,” she explained with a shrug. “But it is worth every dime. And once I take over your vessel, I will be even more unstoppable. The question is why is your power still dormant? After all this time, you should have been able to achieve it. That won’t do. I will not settle for only half of what you have to offer. I have worked too hard to create you. Before the night ends, I’ll make sure it is fully awakened.”
“You can’t be her,” I whispered with a mix of horror and disbelief. “I saw them cutting your head off. I saw your corpse on the floor.”
She chuckled and flicked her long hair over her shoulder before putting the mask back on her face.
“It would take more than that to take down the Oracle of the Harbingers of Aeshua. You have no idea the extent of the magic we yield. You’re a fool not to embrace it,” she retorted tauntingly.
My mind was racing. How could she possibly take over my body? I’ve been created to be Satan’s bride. Or had she always intended to appropriate my vessel as her own and then become his bride herself? I had to keep my wits about me and buy some time until I could figure a way out of this mess.
“Whatever you want with me, it has nothing to do with him. Let him go,” I pleaded with what I hoped to be the appropriate level of fear and submissiveness.
If she believed me broken or defeated, maybe she would lower her guard enough to give me an opening. I had no clue what type of opening that might be, but I needed to try something, anything.
