Chapter 111
- Josh -
The chamber ahead of us was vast. Vaulted stone, columns carved with cruciform shapes, every wall marked with spirals of symbols that crawled with shadow in the torchlight.
At the center, an altar of black stone.
Thomas lay unconscious, his breath shallow, barely raising his chest across it, wrists bound like a lamb ready for sacrifice.
They drugged him.
Around him stood six figures in crimson and black. Hoods low, covering their faces. Their voices were weaving together in a guttural hymn that scraped across our marrow.
The leader stood closest, arms spread wide. His voice rose above the rest, intoning words that made the air itself vibrate.
"Prepare the vessel! By his blood, the veil shall open. By his innocence, the way was made clear for humanity. Let the Son return in the fire and judgment!"
Kaysi's eyes widened. "Are they trying to—"
"Summon their god," I muttered. "Or what they think is their god."
Kaysi shook her head, anger flashing through the panic. "Aren't we supposed to be on the same page? These people—aren't they supposed to be fighting for the hope, love, and salvation too?"
I let out a humorless laugh. "Their pages are blank, Kaysi. It's just scribbles and madness. They think they're saving the world, but all they're doing is tearing more holes into it."
The chants rose higher, torches flaring brighter, shadows stretching. The leader raised a blade curved like a fang, the edge catching firelight.
I clenched my hand, and the fires flared around my fingers.
Kaysi glanced at me, her breathing steady, no anger overriding fear. "We're going to stop them. I see their sins; there lie demons tethered to their souls. There is no redemption for them."
"Your damn right we're going to stop them!"
We slipped inside, staying low behind the nearest column.
My thoughts sharpened, racing not with fear but calculation. Six robed figures, plus their leader. Seven against two.
Kaysi stood tall, hands curled tight at her sides. "Aren't we supposed to be on the same page?" Her voice rang clear in the dark. "You're priests, men of God—and you'd do this? Your vision is obscured. Delusional."
For only a heartbeat, the only sound was the hiss of wax melting.
The chanting faltered. A half-dozen hooded faces turned toward us.
I stepped to her side, the flame spreading up my arm, casting her in blue light, and my armor glowing.
If they touched her—if they even looked at her the way I once had when I saw her as weak and useless—there would be nothing left of them to bury. I swore to protect her to Becky, and it doesn't matter that we are not together; I will hold my word.
The leader nearest the figure stepped forward. His hood fell back, revealing a gaunt face marked with crimson sigils. His eyes gleamed with a fevered light. He raised a blade curved like a fang, the edge catching firelight.
"You misunderstand, child." His voice was smooth, like oil over glass. "This is no betrayal of God. This is His will. The boy is a vessel, chosen to herald His second coming."
My teeth clenched. Vessel. That's what they called her once. When my father had handed her over to me, bloody and broken, and told me she was nothing more than a tool.
I forced the memory down before it could choke me.
Kaysi scoffed. "Funny. God's will usually doesn't look like child sacrifice. To the knowledge I have, if harm comes to a little one, well, it would be better for him if a millstone were hung around his neck and he were cast into the sea."
The priest smiled with cracked lips. "Sacrifice is the purest form of devotion. What is one child weighed against salvation?"
My flame surged higher, answering the rage that burned through me. "You want salvation?" My voice dropped, hard and sharp. "You find your place in the fires."
The man sneered, lifting his hands in the air. The others resumed chanting—louder and faster. The walls are vibrating, thickening the atmosphere, electric pulling at the edges of reality.
The altar pulsed.
The same portal I once used from the abyss was no longer trying to open.
Thomas stirred, bound by etchings in the altar that glowed faintly red. His small body arched in pain, lips parting in a soundless cry.'
Kaysi moved swiftly forward instinctively, but I caught her arm just barely.
"Wait," I hissed.
Her eyes snapped to mine, fierce and unyielding like before I destroyed her, before the abyss. A piece of the old Kaysi peeked through. "Damn it, Josh, he's a kid; he doesn't have much time.
She's right, I hate to admit it.
The energy of the runes bleeds from the stone into the chamber on the ground as if something were charging up. This wasn't a fight we could charge into blind. One wrong move, and the ritual could finish before we even touched the boy, either by death or possession. Whatever their plan may be.
I forced myself to breathe to clear my head, my hands shaking in anger.
"We cut straight through the head and cut it off." I gritted my teeth as I spoke. The rest falls apart!"
She turned, sword advanced, ready to attack, as she nodded, jumping right in with no hesitation, as if I released a caged beast for the first time.
The leader did not react to use her speed. He spread his arms wide, voice booming, Bear witness to the glory of his rebirth!"
The chamber shook. The altar flared.
No more waiting.
I launched forward, blue flame roaring from my arm like a blade. The nearest cultist screamed as it carved through his staff, which he once held, splintering the wood and sending him sprawling.
The others surged like a tide, robes snapping, voices pattering curses that rattled in my bones, twisting the energy inside me.
Kaysi was already in the thick of them, making fast, fluid moves that his muscles remembered, regardless of his mind's limits. She was reckless in a yet vigilant way. Her only focus was to get the boy to safety. She moved with fury; I knew she didn't even understand. Cornered, she cracked ribs with the hilt of her sword. An kicked a man, sending him spiraling in movements I had not seen before. Her body reacted as if she were unbroken; even the shadows could not bind her light.
And me? Ha, I just burned anyone in my path.
It was like a dance; every cultist that touched her, every hand that reached her way, went down in my flames. My power wasn't just a weapon—it was a promise. No one would ever hurt her again. Not them. Not me. Not anyone. She saved me even in the abyss when I was dying, even after knowing she would lose everything to save me. I owe it to her, even if she doesn't remember her sacrifice.
Once all his goons were knocked out of the picture, the leader snarled. Finally, we caught his attention. Cutting through the chaos, his hands were weaving symbols in the air. The altar blazed, and ropes like living vipers tightened around Thomas.
"You can't stop destiny!" He roared.
"Hide and watch me, senile bastard!" I growled.
I hurled fire. He countered with a wall of darkness that burst from the ground. A shroud that ate light like a starving beast. The collision ripped the chamber with a crack that shook stone from the ceiling.
Kaysi's voice cut through the chaos: "JOSH!"
I glanced—just enough to see her sprinting toward the altar, ducking a strike, and leaping onto the stone steps. Her eyes blazed, teeth gritted, and every ounce of fear burned away.
Something inside me clenched tight. She wasn't supposed to be this brave. She wasn't supposed to trust me still to hold the line.
And God help me, I'd die before I let her down again.