Divined (31 page)

“I don’t blush.” Ixie grimaced, her eyes flickering to Ealis.

“Of course you don’t,” Clio agreed, fighting her smile as she turned to Ashira. “Don’t linger after you’ve delivered Vazuil. Go straight to Tirza. You don’t need to be in this fight.”

Ashira nodded, her face pale.

“You’re going to be all right,” Clio promised.

Ashira’s eyes focused on Clio. “I know,” Ashira said with a smile. She darted into Clio’s arms for the briefest of hugs. “Take care, Clio.”

Clio nodded, swallowing the lump in her throat as she watched her Vessel walk away.

“I’ll be seeing you at the top, Clio.” Vazuil’s voice was quiet, but Clio heard every word.

“Don’t forget my promise. If this is a trick—”

“You’ll kill me if it’s the last thing you do.” He tipped his head in farewell as Ixie pulled on his lead.

Only Ealis and Atzi remained. The three of them walked toward the pyramid, the streets filling with spectators, priests, lost children—all that would be left of Morek if they failed.

The pyramid grew with every step. Clio found her eyes fixed to its top. Her sister had been sacrificed there years ago. Clio herself had nearly been sacrificed. Maia had died. How many more would the pyramid claim if they failed?

The entrance to the pens was chaos. Priests lined the tunnel, fighting back the throng of men desperate to save their loved ones.

Ealis pushed through and was shoved back by a large priest. His amber robe had been torn and blood spilled from a gash in his forehead.

“Get back!” the priest shouted. “All of you, back! Your women are for the Deities now. You should feel honored, blessed!”

“
Blessed!
”
a man cried. “You took my daughter!”

“And you were paid handsomely.”

“I don’t want your gold.” The man tossed a pouch into the priest’s chest. “Give me my daughter back!”

The crowd roared and pressed forward. Someone elbowed Clio’s back, making her stumble. When she regained her balance she found the man on the ground, clutching his throat. Blood poured through his fingers.

“Get back, I said.” The priest held his knife high, blood dripping from the obsidian onto his cheek. “The tunnels are closed. Return to the square and witness the glory of your sacrifice.”

“Please,” Ealis said, reaching the front. He didn’t flinch away from the priest’s blade. “I have offerings.”

“It’s too late for that. Did you hear me? The tunnels are closed.”

Panic pulsed through Clio’s veins.

Ealis stepped forward over the now dead man’s body. “I said I had offerings for you.” He yanked on the rope they’d loosely knotted around Clio and Atzi’s wrists.

“I have no more gold for you.”

Ealis pushed the rope into the priest’s hands. “I’m not here for gold.”

The priest’s eyes narrowed. “Who are they that you are so eager to be rid of them?”

Ealis didn’t lose any of his quiet confidence. A bead of sweat rolled down his forehead, but his mouth remained firm as he leaned in to the priest and lowered his voice. “The Bloodied One will come today. I don’t care for the gold, I only intend to be on the winning side.”

The priest studied Ealis, still suspicious, and for a moment Clio feared they were lost.

Ealis released the rope and turned back into the crowd without another word or glance. Clio watched him go, then felt a yank on the rope. Atzi was backing away from the priest.

“You said you don’t want more. Let us go.” She nervously looked at Clio.

The priest’s wary expression faded away, setting into something darker. He jerked the rope toward him, causing Atzi to fall to her knees.

“Two more for the sacrifice,” the priest called behind him to the line of Order members.

Clio let out her breath as they were pulled into the tunnel. Priests were running past them, each heavily armed. Clio looked over her shoulder at the line of men still begging at the entrance.

Then the screaming started, and she flinched away. The Order would pay for this.

But she would have to wait. Wait for the right moment. Then, she would burn the Order to the ground. She felt flushed with anger, her pulse pounding in her ears.

When she walked into the pens, all the rage, all the vengeance faded away, leaving behind a grief so heavy something caught in her chest.
Maia
. Clio hadn’t felt her in so long.

But she only had a moment with the past before she was faced with the future. Hundreds of women filled the pens. Each cell was packed so tightly the women couldn’t sit. They stood, pressed against one another, unable to see beyond the girl beside them.

“Put them in the back,” a priest ordered, and Clio and Atzi were led behind the pens. The air was filled with crying, with the sounds of women rattling their cages, comforting each other, screaming at the guards. It was so loud Clio couldn’t think, her own thoughts lost behind the din of so many lives depending on her.

They reached the back of the room, and somehow the yelling got louder. Dozens of women waited back here, outside the overcrowded pens, with a couple of priests standing guard at each side. A few women had evidently tried to escape. Their bodies lay scattered and forgotten along the edges.

With a rough shove, Clio and Atzi were forced into the crowd.

“What now?” Atzi asked, her eyes reflecting the horror around them.

“We wait,” Clio answered, trying to block out everything but what they would need to do. She had already known the Order’s plan. She’d known how many lives Nox wanted to sacrifice to her father. And yet, there was something very different about looking each and every life in the eye, hearing their cries, feeling their panic. This was no longer a shadowy vision of the future. It was real.

CHAPTER SIXTY-TWO

An eternity passed before priests started leading girls away. Clio was shaking when she noticed the first priest appear before their group. She almost cried with relief. Another moment here, among all this—it would have been too much.

“Ready?” Atzi asked. She’d slipped her hands from Ealis’ trick loop and rubbed her wrists.

Clio nodded. “You?”

Atzi smiled. “It’s what we were born for.”

“I’ll see you at the top,” Clio promised. Women were being pulled forward, the group thinning around them.

“See you at the top, Clio.” Atzi’s voice was sad. Clio knew the Oracle was thinking of her Vision, of Clio’s body broken at the top of the pyramid.

Clio gave her a small smile before pushing to the front. She had to be one of the first girls at the top of the pyramid if she was going to have a chance to slip away before the ritual began. As she passed by each and every girl, Clio’s thoughts turned to the Vision she had so long pushed from her mind. She wasn’t foolish. She knew it likely death awaited her at the top of the pyramid. In a way, it always had. But she wasn’t about to enter this battle certain her life was over. She would live until the last moment, and hopefully she would do enough to stop her father, once and for all.

The girls trembled in line. Clio walked by them, trying not to feel their fear as she took a place at the front.

The priest at the head of the slave procession began to walk forward, out of the pens and deeper into the pyramid, and Clio followed. Silence had descended, heavy with anticipation. Clio entered the narrow tunnel, its corridors steeply sloping up, and suddenly had the urge to laugh.

She’d done this before. She’d walked up this very hallway, planning to kill, willing to die. She’d walked to her fate then, not caring what came of her. Today, though, today she cared. She had more to live for than revenge.

The tunnel was tight, and the girls were forced to walk one after the other. Clio kept her eyes on the amber cloak of the priest ahead, rushing up the steps to clear the way for the offerings.

“Spread the word down the line,” Clio whispered to the woman behind her. “When the fighting begins, run back down the tunnel, not down the pyramid. Understand? The path will be cleared for you.”

The woman was older. Her skin was dark and creased, but her eyes found Clio’s easily in the dim, smoky light.

“You understand, don’t you?” Clio repeated, aware the priest ahead of them had stopped at the top and was looking down at the line of offerings.

The woman surprised Clio by clasping her hand. “Our prayers have been answered. The Oracle has come to save us.”

Clio blinked, wanting to pull her hand back. Instead, she shook her head. “The Deities won’t help us.”

The woman smiled. “No,” she agreed. “But you will.”

Clio paused. She didn’t know what to say. The woman’s calloused hand felt suddenly heavy in Clio’s.

“We will do as you say.” The woman dropped her hand and turned to the girl behind her.

The priest called down to them, ordering Clio forward. Lifting her head, Clio faced the end of the tunnel, warmth spreading through her chest.

The Deities had lost worshippers. Even if Clio failed, there could still be hope as long as the people of Morek turned from their Deities.

She ran to the top. The priest pushed her forward, throwing her into the line of offerings that had already been brought up. They stood on the edge of the pyramid, overlooking the crowded square. She couldn’t make out much at such a great height, but the line of amber around the square was unmistakable. The Order had penned in the rest of Morek, forcing them to witness the bloodshed. Clio looked to the horizon, to where Riece and his men should have already finished clearing the gate. She could only trust that Derik’s men would be streaming into Morek soon. Without them, there would be no way to beat back the endless multitude of Order priests imprisoning the city.

Clio glanced to the altar standing, lone and imposing, in the center of the pyramid. There was no sign of Nox or his red blade. Somewhere, a drumbeat began. Slow, steady. It bounced off the stone, shattering into a hundred voices as it echoed across the square.

Still, they waited. Every pair of eyes was fixed on the small ceremony chamber behind the altar where the High Priest would emerge to begin the sacrifice. But he didn’t come.

Clio’s heart fluttered. Thoughts raced through her mind.
Did he find them out? Was he at the gate killing Riece and waiting for Derik? Or perhaps he had captured Ealis? Or Atzi?

She set her eyes on the horizon, waiting and hoping.

“Come on, Ealis,” she mouthed under her breath.

The crowd roared, and Clio turned to the altar. Nox strode out of the ceremony chamber. He wore the headdress of the High Priest, but on his chest glistened the golden breastplate of the Emperor. Seeing it on him made Clio’s hands ball into fists at her sides.

“Today will begin the new era of prosperity for Morek’s Empire,” Nox shouted, raising his face to the skies. He lifted the red blade, and it took all of Clio’s will not to dart forward then. But she didn’t have a weapon, and she couldn’t afford recklessness. “With this blade I will shed the blood that will make us strong again.” He turned to the line of offerings, and Clio slipped back in the crowd, hiding her face. “Bring the first forward.”

A priest pulled a girl forward, leading her to the altar. Clio felt her breath halt in her chest.

“Please, Ealis.” She looked out to the city. Their plan couldn’t have failed in the first step. “Please.”

The girl’s cries cut through the drumbeats, and Clio shivered in the dry heat. Nox pushed the girl down, and raised his blade. Clio watched, paralyzed.

A priest shouted somewhere behind Clio, and finally she could draw breath.

Flames erupted in the distance where Clio knew the Order’s temple to be.
Ealis.
He’d done it. Smoke rose into the sky, blanketing them in black and gray. Clio tasted the soot in the air, felt it stinging her eyes. This was her moment.

The priests were breaking formation, rushing to the pyramid’s ledge to look down. Clio crept behind the nearest guard and turned, lining up her back with his as she reached behind to steal his blade from his belt. She stowed it quickly under her shift and moved away. No one was watching her, and she slipped to the edge to peer down the back of the pyramid. Guards were stationed along the rim. She would have to kill some, draw the rest away to give Riece a clear route to the top.

Silently, she moved to the nearest guard, conscious that it would only take one man to turn around, one backward glance, for everything to fall apart. Her hand tightened around the dagger’s hilt when the skies opened above her. It started all at once with a single crash of thunder, and then warm rain pounded down on them.

Somewhere behind her, Clio heard Nox laugh. “Stay in formation!” he called.

The guard in front of her turned to receive his orders, and his eyes landed on Clio. She stowed the blade and backed away, hoping he hadn’t seen too much.

“What do you think you’re doing back here?” the priest growled.

The sky was cloudless, yet still, the rain didn’t stop. Clio could barely see through the downpour. The priest approached her, and Clio noticed the eyes of more guards watching them. Her. She’d missed her chance. If she attacked now, she’d only draw a larger crowd and Nox would find her out. With a final glance down the pyramid, hoping to see Riece, she bowed her head to the priest. She didn’t resist when the guard grabbed her wrist and threw her back into the line of offerings with a final sneer.

“You see?” Nox called out over the square. “The power of the Bloodied One knows no bounds. He has protected the home of his most favored servants.” Clio looked to the temple to see Nox was right. The flames had been extinguished. “He will do the same for Morek, for our Empire, if only we show him our love.” He motioned to the priest beside him still holding the first offering.

Everything was happening too quickly. The girl was brought forward, and Clio looked to the tunnels. No sign of Atzi. No sign of Riece and his men, either. Clio was alone, without allies, without a plan. Nox plunged the red dagger into the offering’s chest, and Clio felt the blow as if he’d struck her own heart.

The light changed, a shadow falling over the pyramid as Nox raised his dagger high. Clio watched him shiver with the power of his kill. People were screaming below, but Clio was paralyzed. The sun was gone from the sky, leaving them in an unnatural darkness. Her father was near, she felt it.