I move further behind the effigy to get a better view of the workings. Saxon follows me. Dozens and dozens of men are stationed on various levels of scaffolding all around the back of the altar, and hundreds of ropes, many looped over pulleys, are fastened to the backs of metal pieces that form the image of Othrix.
Mirrors line panels at the sides of the structure, and more hang from the ceiling above. The reflections are helping to create the illusion of dimensionality and life, and the smoke adds to the illusion.
“Expose the truth,” Tynan shouts. “Surely, if Othrix is all powerful, he does not need mortal men to put on a show for him. Surely, if this god exists, he needs no such fakery.”
“It’s true!” a man shouts from the scaffolding. “It’s all fake.” A rope falls to the floor, and one of Othrix’s cheekbones droops.
More men drop their ropes. The smoke lessens. Some of the mirrors redirect. Even from our perspective beside it, it’s clear that the effigy is flatter from the audience’s perspective. Far less real.
Men climb down from the scaffolding and walk from behind the effigy. More of the effigy collapses, making it even clearer that it’s a large number of metal plates joined together.
In a rage, one of the klericks stomps toward the men. “Return to your posts or you’ll be beaten.”
The men stand firm.
A klerick leaps onto the platform, next to Tynan.
“Silence,” he calls out. “Do not be fooled. Do not listen to the lies of these heretics and blasphemers.”
“It’s theklerickswho lie!” Tynan shouts. The klerick pushes Tynan, and other klericks drag Tynan off the platform.
“I am Othrix,” a loud voice booms. “All who question me will suffer my wrath.”
“Look.” I tug on Saxon’s arm. “Over there.”
A klerick is standing behind a large metal cone that’s clearly amplifying his voice.
“Bow before me!” the klerick says, and his voice booms through the temple. Fire erupts through the effigy’s now drooping mouth, but it’s weaker this time, and the crowd’s sounds give me hope that they’re beginning to realize the truth.
“We’ve got to do something,” I say to Saxon, and he nods.
We rush toward another red-robed klerick, and Saxon constrains him. “Where does she keep the manticore?” Saxon asks the klerick.
The klerick shakes his head, but his eyes reveal his fear.
Saxon tugs the klerick back toward the amplifying device. “Where does Vanora keep the manticore?” Saxon asks through the horn so everyone in the temple can hear. “Where does Vanora keep the poor creature she feeds upon? The creature whose blood gives her the power and longevity to trick these good people?”
Sounds rise from the crowd, and I step out of the wings to better see what’s going on.
“Move away,” Zogar shouts as he strides to the front and center of the altar. “Everyone. Stand well away.” Lifting his arms, he turns slowly, and everyone else on the altar shifts back—perhaps in fear, perhaps pushed by Zogar’s magic. I can’t tell which.
Zogar crouches down, and in mere seconds he shifts into dragon form, filling most of the altar. His clothes shred to land on the floor. More of the effigy collapses.
The crowd gasps, backing away from the altar. Many push toward the entrance. It’s mayhem. Someone is going to be hurt.
Saxon and the klerick he was holding have vanished, so I stand behind the amplifying horn.
“Calm yourselves,” I call out. “This dragon means you no harm. I am Princess Rosomon of Achotia.” Surath pushes down a screen that’s blocking me from the view of the audience. Then she points to the wheels under the stand that supports the upper part of the horn. Together we push it forward.
“This dragon’s name is Zogar,” I say into the horn, and my voice carries loudly through the temple. Zogar is the dragon I ride. He and his people have been trapped here in the Light. They were deceived, just as you all have been.”
Zogar shifts back into his true form and quickly uses magic to clothe himself.
“And this.” I point toward him. “This is also Zogar, and he is my husband.”
Surath helps me push the amplifying device further forward, but I have the crowd’s full attention now. And also, the attention of the klericks, workers and guards on the stage.
“It was Zogar and his people who created the veil that protects the Light.” I step forward and Surath pushes the amplifying device along with me. “The mage who anointed herself Prime Klerick not only deceived you, she deceived Zogar and trapped him here!”
