Vanora’s smile radiates from her flawless face, and my heart rate accelerates. Zogar loves me. I know that he loves me. This isn’t real. Nothing happening on this stage is real, but I have no way to expose it. Especially not while I’m bound to this contraption,my back exposed and ready to be flogged, before I’m repeatedly raped.
I can’t see the others from this angle but know they’re all muzzled and bound on their knees. And I expect the copper around their hands is preventing their use of magic.
“Vanora has lived since before the creation of the Light,” Zogar says loudly. “As have I.”
The crowd murmurs their amazement.
“Our long lives were granted by Othrix,” Vanora adds, and the crowd’s amazed sounds grow louder.
Zogar turns toward the audience. “No. That is not true. It was not Othrix, nor any god, who granted our longevity. Neither of us.”
Vanora frowns.
“To live for so long requires access to the Darkness.” Zogar lifts his hands. The arch disappears, replaced by a forest. Even the massive effigy of Othrix vanishes, lost behind the trees.
I can’t see the crowd, but their sounds tell me there’s a mixture of fear, doubt and anger.
“Good people of the Light.” Zogar steps toward the crowd and out of my view. “You have been deceived long enough.”
Shouts rise from the crowd. Most seem to be calling Zogar the deceiver, a blasphemer.
He steps back into my view. “These klericks.” He gestures toward the robed men gathered together and looking confused. “These men forbid access to Darkness, and yet they useDarkness to trick you. To subjugate you. Just as they trapped me and my people for four hundred years.”
“It isyouwho uses the Darkness.” Vanora points toward Zogar. “Blasphemer! Seize him.”
Some guards move toward Zogar, but stop sharply, as if they ran into a wall.
A gag appears in Vanora’s mouth. Her eyes fill with rage, and the gag disappears, as do all of Zogar’s illusions.
An eerie blue light glows around Vanora. “This man cannot be trusted,” she says. “He has even deceived me. I’ve just realized he’s not even a man! He is an abomination. A shapeshifter! And he will soon suffer the wrath of Othrix!”
Fire streams from the effigy again, heating the air above us.
The klericks move toward Zogar, a few holding out their hands as if they’re trying to use magic, but I don’t see any evidence of it.
This is chaos. If therewasa plan, this can’t be it. Amongst everything else, Tynan’s father has broken away from his guards and is arguing with Vanora.
With a huff, she raises her hand toward him, and the King staggers back.
“Good people!” Zogar spreads his arms widely. “Everything you see here is fakery!” He marches to the edge of the stage to address the crowd.
I twist my neck, trying to see him. Hands fall onto one of my ankles.
I look down.It’s Tynan.
His fear-filled eyes look up at me, but then he winks and quickly frees my ankles, followed by my wrists. My arms drop, and the rest of the burlap robe falls off.
Tynan supports me as my feet find the floor. “Here.” He removes his velvet cloak, wrapping it over me and lifting the hood to cover my head. “You must hide.”
I long to fall into Tynan’s arms, but too much is happening. Zogar is still addressing the crowd, and he and Vanora seem to be alternatively using their magic against each other.
Tynan ushers me into the wings, and we crouch behind one of many panels, which are clearly designed to reflect light and shield the crowd’s view of what lies behind the effigy.
Many multi-level scaffolding structures surround the back of the altar, all with men standing and kneeling at various levels atop their platforms.
“Don’t move from here,” Tynan says. “Keep the hood over your head.”
Before I can object, Tynan runs back onto the altar. Zogar is pleading with the assembled audience, and the illusions battle. The scene on the altar changes often, and each time it draws exclamations from the audience. If there’s a plan, Zogar didn’t think this part through.
