“I know what this is,” Kali replied pensively. “This is a necromantic ritual. You need thirteen brides as a willing sacrifice. It allows the person performing the ritual to receive extreme healing and potentially even gain immortality.”
“Immortality?!” I repeated, the curiosity I felt reflected in equal measure on both our male companions faces.
She nodded. “The recipient’s life is extended by each victim’s individual lifespan. He also acquires their powers and receives an additional boon at the time of the ritual.”
“What kind of boon?” Lyall asked, echoing my thoughts.
“It often is some form of healing,” Kali explained pensively. “As the caster of such a high-level spell usually is a lot older to have acquired the skills necessary for it, they will want a body in prime health and condition before expanding its life.”
It was my turn to nod. “Yes, that makes sense.”
“But it could also be a radical shift in appearance. Like a demon would take on a human appearance. A human could want some features from a dweller of the Netherworld. Or they could flat out change their gender, ethnicity, or general look. However, healing is usually the more beneficial boon.”
“If he needs thirteen women for his ritual, why have them dangling like that already?” I asked, baffled. “At this rate, the first ones might die before he gets enough so-called volunteers. The first victim was abducted a little over ten months ago.”
“They are magically sustained. Currently, they serve as magic batteries and amplifiers for the arcanist who they pledged themselves to.”
“Elliot is currently leeching them?!” I exclaimed, outraged.
Kali nodded with a grim expression. “Yes. And it makes his magic exponentially more powerful with each victim. You know him?”
“Sadly, yes,” I replied, the anger and hatred I felt towards him coming back to the surface.
I quickly gave them an overview of what had transpired and led us to my current predicament. The anger they felt on my behalf touched something undefinable within me.
“Can the women be saved, or is it too late?” I asked.
To my utter relief, Kali nodded.
“Yes. So long as they are freed before the ritual takes place, they will make a full recovery. It will take quite a bit of time, especially for the first ones to have been lured into this trap,” she explained. “But once the ritual has begun, there will be no turning back. They will become a part of him, their souls slowly consumed as an energy well within him.”
I cursed under my breath, hating the helplessness I felt as far as these poor clerics were concerned. Hopefully, Paulus would find a trail for us to follow so that they could be rescued in time.
“Thank you for everything,” I said at last, feeling a little weary and overwhelmed.
“Yes, thank you,” Lyall echoed.
“Always, Brother,” Pharos replied.
“I will get you the ritual information without fail tomorrow,” Kali said in an encouraging tone before giving me the most unexpected sisterly hug.
My throat tightened as I returned her embrace. I didn’t know this woman or her mate. But right this minute, they were giving me a glimpse of what it could be like to belong to a real family. While the inquisitors of our order referred to each other as brothers and sisters, I’d always been on the outside looking in, the freaky girl that the Church begrudgingly tolerated but secretly wanted to execute for fear of what she might become.
Like my Lyall, Kali and Pharos were something different, something otherworldly. To them, I wasn’t an abomination. Even my darkness didn’t faze them. With them, I could finally have a home. I could finally belong.
If I survive this ordeal.
With much reluctance, I released her, feeling oddly bereft. We exchanged goodbyes, then made our way back to Lyall’s home. To my dismay, each second of the short journey rekindled the anger and resentment that our conversation with Pharos andKali had temporarily silenced. Vicious thoughts and malicious urges came back with a vengeance.
I couldn’t tell what expression my face displayed, but as soon as we stepped inside his house, Lyall stopped and turned me towards him.
“I’m sorry for how everything went down tonight. I’m sorry for failing you. Things might have gone a completely different way had I not been so overconfident in my ability to control any situation thrown our way. But on my life, I swear that I will stop at nothing to make sure you are whole again,” he pledged, his beautiful face constricted by shame.
“It’s okay,” I said in a calm voice. “Missions almost never go off without a hiccup. I’m not mad at you. I didn’t anticipate constructs any more than you did.”
By the subtle way his shoulders slumped, I could see that he knew I didn’t truly mean the words I said. Unfortunately, I’d never been much of a good liar. And the newfound malicious side of me wanted him to know that I was mad. The still decent side of me hated that I would even think that way.
“I need rest,” I said, worried that things might get worse if I stuck around much longer in my current state of mind.
