I’d realized now that the shadow’s I’d seen were people.

People that now stared at me with wide, hungry eyes. None of them were faces I recognized, not a single one in the dozens that stood behind Boone and Joseph.

They were dressed in finery, an odd contradiction to running around in the woods. They were voiceless, motionless, but their intent was clear on their faces.

Joseph stepped closer to me, obscuring my view of a woman with a mass of auburn red hair and strikingly gorgeous features drawn in fury.

“Stay away from me,” I hissed at my father-in-law when he took another pace forward.

“I’d love nothing more, Claudia, but you know what must be done.” Shadows fell over his face as he stepped out of the light, and even closer to me.

“I’d rather crawl than have you touch me.” I remained where I was, wavering strength barely keeping me upright. There wasn’t much I’d be able to do if he did get any closer.

“We don’t have to make this difficult,” he said flatly, his figure drawing nearer.

Bubbling, horrible anger was growing within me, replacing the fear. I hated this man, always had, but Ascelin, if I could, I would be strangling him now.

“Give me a stick,” I spat. “Anything. I will walk myself to Ascelin’s door, Joseph.”

That actually made him pause. What, really, would be the harm in allowing me to suffer and walk myself? With his gang of inhumane humans, I wouldn’t escape farther than a few feet.

Maybe less.

“Why?” He scoffed, humoring me despite it all. “Think you can swing it and do damage?”

“I can hardly stand,” I said. “But I’d rather walk to my death than be carried.”

“Death?” Joseph barked out another laugh. His hand had been behind his back for the entire conversation, but now he pulled it forward.

He held a wide brimmed leather hat, which he now fastened over his head. “Don’t be ridiculous. Ascelin won’t end you so quickly.”

Still wearing the same long coat I’d last seen him in, Joseph pulled a pair of gloves from his front pocket, dutifully sliding them into place over his hands.

“If you’re so insistent, I’m sure Boone will lend you his cane?” Joseph ended his sentence by peering over his shoulder, an unspoken conversation now passing between him and the priest.

Unphased, Boone walked forward, pulling a simple wooden cane from a hidden slit within his layers of robes. Sensing my hesitation, the priest’s mask fell. “Take it or crawl.”

It wasn’t a hard choice to spare a hand to snatch it from his grasp, nearly losing my balance in the process. Boone loosened his grip easily, his hand disappearing back within his sleeve, clasped with his other.

“Let’s get this over with, Claudia,” Joseph said to me, already turning away.

It wasn’t easy, as the cane barely came up to my hip. I still ended up having to put pressure back onto the leg, which brought back the pain. I thought I’d lost it to exhaustion, but it came back to rear its ugly head.

Clenched teeth and white knuckles, I pushed through it. It felt undignified, but I’d done it for my dignity.

The shadows, now known as people, moved when I did. Heads turned like that of a predator, watching their prey meander by.

Joseph held up his right hand, catching their attention. He let it drop back to his side and a moment later, they dispersed, returning to the wild. My heart knocked on my chest several times.

Who were those. . . people?

It was only the two men now, and me. Boone lurked a good distance behind us, his pace somehow slower than mine.

Joseph paved the road ahead, eager to drop me off and be done with it. I wondered if he was thinking of William now. It begged the question now of what they would tell William, when I disappeared?

Would he notice?

Torches illuminated the exact path we were to take.

No official road had been made, but generations of feet had worn the forest floor into a walkway. I knew I was being slow, wincing with every step I took, but neither man said a word about it.

They could be patient, as long as this was the end of it.

Howling wind began to pick up, a sudden burst of it chilling my skin. I could’ve sworn a voice carried on that wind, genderless and raspy.

“Dissenter,” the voice in the wind called for me.

Neither of them seemed to hear it; that voice was meant for me alone.

“It’s a pity they shot you where they did,” Joseph said, ahead of me but still in sight. “I’ve been planning to use your bones for a new brush for Isobel,” he continued, then clicked his tongue. “Could’ve had a matching set.”

It took a moment for his words to process in my mind, I was still stuck on the howling wind. I supposed Joseph was attempting to scare me, but nothing could be more frightening than walking to Ascelin’s cave as a dissenter.

The torches had been blown out ahead of us, evidence of smoke twirling and trailing out into long streaks. The worn-in pathway we took began a sharp incline, completely enclosed by the tree canopy above.

It grew more difficult for me to walk the steeper the path became. Pain became agony, yet a new wave of energy had washed over me. Exhaustion was only a wink of what I felt now.

“Dissenter,” the voice said again, stronger this time.

Had night somehow fallen again so quickly? My sight had been robbed, for we were suddenly plunged in darkness, thicker than wool.

“Don’t fret, Claudia,” Joseph said, a chuckle following. “It only means we’re nearly there.”

“What will you tell William?” I found myself asking him, truly wanting to know. I wasn’t sure why I cared, though.

If it weren’t for Joseph leading me, I wouldn’t know where to go at this point. I could see nothing besides glimpses of movement as my eyes fought to adjust to the dark.

“William?” Joseph asked, the humor gone from his voice. “That boy doesn’t give a damn about you anymore. I won’t need to tell him anything.”

“Did you make him propose to me?” I asked another daring question.

“Ascelin, no,” he said. “I begged him not to.” I could hear that he’d stopped, voice growing louder as I kept up.

“You conceived a child too late for his love to persevere for someone like you, Claudia,” Joseph continued, finality in his tone.

“Is it really that hard to love a person despite their descent?” My voice was bitter, arguing a point that held no importance now.

“It’s hard to love food,” Boone gave me an answer.

The priest stood directly behind me, blocking the pathway back. My eyes had adjusted enough to see what lay before us.

Trees had naturally cleared a wide berth for the sudden start of the cliff, impossibly high above. A crack had formed in this side of the mountain’s face, creating a wide, hollowed maw.

“Go in,” Joseph said to me, lingering to the side, still close to the pathway like Boone. Were they afraid to get closer?

“You’re not going to walk me in?” My voice cracked, giving away my emotions. Hated or not, Joseph was still the only father figure I’d ever been around.

It hurt to think of him that way; as a father. This man had been kind, had loved and nurtured others, but not me. Not for the blood that ran in my veins.

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“There’s no need,” he deigned me with an answer, already in the process of turning on his heel and returning. “Ascelin knows you are here.” There is no escape now, he all but implied.

It dawned on me that there was never going to be an escape for me. Not since my tree burned, and those men watched me in the glow of its death.

“Come,” said a soft, luring voice, whispering out from the crack in the mountain.

Sharp, jagged rocks had fallen from this mountain, their remains broken and shattered from their impact. If I had light, I would’ve expected to see blood on those rocks, for I could smell it in the air.

Tangy and metallic, it clung to the earth here, clouding my nose with its bittersweet smell.

I was moving against my will, as if my muscles worked for a different mind. It drew me closer and closer to the mountain’s waiting mouth, revealing where the crack grew large enough for a body to pass through.

It released me now that I was where it wanted me. Ascelin. He wanted me to walk in on my own accord.

“Come.” It, Ascelin, said again, commanding this time.

I spared a glance behind me. I was alone, but I could feel the eyes that watched from afar. Waiting for me to try.

Cold wind blew at my back, streaking past me and into the hole I stood before. Like an immense breath being drawn in.

Clouds had gathered, thick and dark, purposefully blocking any possible light that could break through Ascelin’s storm. Did I still see it as a gift? I asked myself.

My free hand fell to my stomach, caressing a bump that would never be. I could still beg. Plead for my child’s life, but not mine.

It hadn’t worked so well for Vivianne Sinclair, but from what I knew, she’d been a snob of a woman.

I found the courage within myself to abandon the cane, now clutching at the rocky surface, sharp edges digging into my skin. My teeth hurt as they clamped together, more pressure having to be put on the leg.

My journey was a pained and slow one, forcing myself into the small space that had been allotted. Voidless dark swallowed me the deeper I went, blinding feeling my way through the tunnel.

I couldn’t tell how far I’d been walking, the shaft winding and sloping. I could feel my own breath before me, hitting rocks far too close to my face.

Suddenly, I couldn’t feel where the passage led, the sharp walls abruptly ending. Stumbling, my balance was nearly lost as I ventured into the emptiness.

My heart was wild within the constraints of my chest, beating crazily to be let free. A cold sweat broke out on my skin, despite the chill of the mountain.

Ascelin was silent now that I was here, hidden somewhere in the same cavern with me. Horrible, deep dread filled my stomach with the weight of stones.

Something moved.

It was a disembodied noise, echoing and bouncing off of walls I couldn’t see. It was the sound of rock scraping against rock, gritting and loud.

“Please,” I whispered, knowing I could be heard. Hand reaching behind me, I felt something on the wall, slimy and wet to the touch. Flinching, I yanked my hand back, keeping it to my side.

The noise came again, its echoes softer and sounding farther away than the first. “Please,” he repeated me.

Beating the impossible, my heartrate picked up even faster. I’ve got to try, I was still telling myself through all the fear.

“You’re not the first to come to me with desires on your tongue,” that ancient voice said, close and far away. It was the voice of dozens, masculine and feminine, soft and deadly. “Nor will you be my last.”

“But you are my first dissenter,” came a different, hissing and cruel voice. “That reason alone is why you still speak.”

“Ascelin,” I cried, tears I hadn’t realized were there now spilling down my cheeks. “Hear me, please-”

“I have always heard you,” Ascelin interrupted me, the reverberation of his voice striking my soul.

“I’m pregnant,” I kept speaking, desperate to voice myself. My pain was forgotten in the face of the God I’d been bred to worship. It was fear and desolate hope that drove me to brave a few steps deeper into the chamber.

As if activated by a hidden switch, sudden light flared to life. Lanterns had been chained through stone, lining the walls.

It wasn’t enough light to see more than the floor I stood upon, but I could see that this chamber was massive. Hundreds, thousands of white bits of jagged fragments littered the stone.

Bones.

“Sinclair blood,” I said, shaking and trembling as I forced myself forward. I didn’t get an answer, but I knew I wasn’t alone. Keep going.

“I’m the last of my own- Thorne blood,” I continued, scattering bones as my foot dragged forward. “I dissented for the sake of my child,” came my whisper, pleading with the cruel God.

“I’ll do anything you want.” More bones scattered, but not from my movement. “Let my child live,” I begged.

“Darling?”

Everything in me froze. Even my heart skipped several beats, as if it had tripped then fell, stumbling to get started again. No. She’s dead, I told myself.

“Claudia,” came her voice, sending me straight back into my childhood.

“Mama?” I asked, stiff muscles jerking as I turned to face that voice.

There she stood, dozens of feet away from me and real. Not the ghost of her, she moved and the environment reacted with her. Cirilla Thorne stared at me, my mama.

Her black hair was still curled the same way I remember it, loose tresses created by rolling her hair at night. She wore all white, similar robes to that of a priestess, billowing and ample, the ends resting above the bones she stood on.

A smile broke out on her concerned face, pink bottom lip wobbling. “I missed you baby,” she said, her arms opening for an embrace.

I took a step towards her, my knees going weak and faltering as I did. I could feel the sharp, painful splinters of bones against my cloak and skirts as I lowered to the ground, unable to hold myself up anymore.

Motherly worry overtaking her, her arms dropped as she rushed for me, cool hands already stroking my arms. “Are you real?” I asked her, shrinking away from her touch.

Palm against my cheek, my mama sniffled. “Of course I am,” she cooed to me.

“You went to Ascelin, mama,” I said between horrified tears.

“Hush, darling, we don’t have to talk about that,” she soothed me, attempting to pull me to her breast to coddle me. She’s dead, I told myself again.

“Please, mama,” I sobbed, weakly pushing her hands off of me. “Ascelin, please don’t do this to me.”

All emotion dropped from Cirilla’s face, going blank as kindred, hazel eyes snagged mine.

“I did so much just to push you into this world, Claudia,” my mama said as she rose from her knees, now towering above me. “Spread my legs for any man that cared, to keep our name going.”

It wasn’t my mama’s voice anymore. It was Ascelin’s that came from her lips as she continued on. “Look at you. All of it gone to waste,” mama spat. “You’re a disappointment to both Thorne and Sinclair. The child you carry isn’t worth giving life.”

“Mama wouldn’t say that,” I choked around a sob.

“Foolish child,” a man’s voice now spoke from her mouth. “Your mama is dead.”

“Please,” I still begged the copy of my mother.

Eyes held wide open, I watched as Cirilla disappeared into the air, gone within a blink. Feet rustled the ground somewhere behind me, but I didn’t bother to turn and see.

“What do you propose, Claudia?” A whisper sounded in my ear, already gone before I could understand it. “I allow my dissenter to live and birth her child, then take my justice?” He said into my other ear.

I was shaking my head yes, anything was better than an immediate end. I couldn’t trust my voice to say it.

Ascelin laughed, and it sounded like clapping thunder, rolling through the chamber and echoing from its walls. A hand came down on my shoulder, tan skinned and firm in his grasp.

I recognized the ring on that finger. William.

“No,” William’s voice said above me. “I have something else planned for my dissenter.”

I forcefully shut my eyes, curling into myself, shaking that hand from my shoulder. His touch had been unworldly cold, leaving a reminder of its presence.

“All I ask is the life of my child,” I pleaded, voice muffled within my layers of clothing.

“Do not lie to your God,” William said sharply.

“You are not my God,” I responded with honesty. “You are my Death.”

Ascelin’s booming laugh came again, everywhere and nowhere at once.

“What better God is there to worship than Death, child?” William’s voice asked in tune with my mama’s, bodiless and invisible.

My head was rocking side to side in the crook of my arm, held over a knee I’d propped up. “I worship life,” I whispered, meaning it as a rebuttal.

I could feel the essence of Ascelin recoil, shocked by my answer. “That will change,” came Ascelin’s voice, a harmony of voices the God had stolen from others.

“Take the arrow out,” Death commanded me, patient yet demanding.

“Why?” I asked, lifting my head now. William was gone now too, as if I’d passed another test, another trial of agony.

Ascelin didn’t answer, but my body moved once more to his will. My skirts weren’t lifted, my own hands grabbing the sharp metal beneath. I wanted to let go, but this was Ascelin’s reminder that my flesh was his.

A wavering scream ripped from my lungs as I wrenched the arrow free, freeing it from my thigh. Fresh blood poured free as the arrow dropped somewhere within my clothing.

I could see a patch growing, seeping through the clothes. I would die soon, bleeding out this quickly. Is this what Ascelin wanted? For me to die slowly, knowing it was mine and my child’s death?

“You will complete considerable achievements in my name, my blood, Claudia Thorne, last of your name.” Ascelin’s following laugh was wicked, cruel in its tone.

“My dissenter,” he said, almost tender.

My punishment for defiance was life? It didn’t seem possible, as my life was currently pooling beneath me.

I was delirious now, witnessing a clawed hand reach out from the surrounding dark that the lanterns didn’t reach. It held a white bowl, lifting it into the air for me to see, before slowly lowering it to the floor.

Its contents sloshed forward, thick and dark, before settling back as it rested upon the stone.

Ascelin’s voice was far behind me, as if a distant memory reaching out to be remembered once more. “Drink,” he said.