Chapter 38: The Eclipse
“Hey pooch, wake up.”
She prodded her foot into Dantes side. He was cute when he slept, but if she had to be up early, so did he. Not that it was particularly early, but she’d not gotten much sleep, and it felt early because of that.
The bread was in the oven now, almost finished, and it filled the air with a lovely aroma of buttery tastiness. Too bad she wouldn’t be having any. An unfortunate sacrifice for salvation, but she’d make more once she was free.
He got up off the couch with annoying ease. She knew firsthand how difficult such a feat was moments after waking, and that couch was comfortable. And he looked well rested, which was twice the insult.
“Smells good Mitts. What’s the plan? And can I have some of that?”
“No, we need that for later. And the plan is simple. We fight our way out. They think that they need me to bring the sun back during the eclipse, so once they realise they’re all dumb, they won’t care about me anymore. If we can delay long enough, we win.”
“Sounds complicated. I like the fighting part though. Is there an eating part to this plan as well?”
She rolled her eyes as she withdrew the loaf of bread from the oven. Instinctively she knew she could not cut it in half and she’d only had enough yeast for the one loaf. Sighing she wrapped it in a cloth and handed it to the drooling Dantes. It would be a miracle if it made it out the door.
Sensing the mood, Dantes at least had the decency to look sheepish.
“Don’t eat that until fighting starts. Oh right, do you have any of that candy I gave you?”
“Sure, but I ate all the Refresh Mints.”
She rolled her eyes but continued checking her equipment. It was pretty sparse. Just a boot knife, a thigh knife, a hand knife and her cloak and some pepper balls in a pouch along with a fish in her pocket. Unfortunately, not knifelike in nature.
While they waited, Dantes polished off some meat and fruit lying about the place. The good thing about the cult was they had real meat unlike the groves further inland. Being directly on the sea had its benefits in trade, though what they had to trade with, she had no idea. Clown services, no doubt. Dantes hadn’t found anything in the way of gold on his trip to the cell, so they were limited in funds.
After an hour of waiting around, four cultists filed into the room without warning. She recognized none of them.
“Come with us priestess, the ritual will begin soon. Ah, your companion must stay here.”
She put on her prettiest smile.
“Oh, don’t mind him, he’s just here to escort me up.”
“Oh, that must be him then. The Master of Ceremonies informed us there might be a man with you, though he didn’t mention how… tall he was. Very well. Come with us, please.”
He nodded at them both before turning around and leading them out.
“So, what’s this whole ritual about? Is there a speech involved? I hate speeches.”
“I’m sorry priestess, I can’t give you the details, order of the Master of Ceremonies. You can ask him yourself soon enough though” the lead cultist responded.
The hallways were busier than normal, many cultists scurrying about in slightly fancier than usual robes, all wearing the colors of black and gold. As they wound their way out of the ziggurat, they could just make out the late morning sun at the end of the hall. Its rays washed over her in a beckoning light.
“Well, Dantes, I’d say now’s as good a time as any.” As she said this, she delivered a vicious kick between the leader’s legs.
With a high pitch whine, he crumpled. She whipped around to the guard behind her finding him face first in a wall along with the other two who’d been escorting Dantes.
“Good job, pooch, now let’s get out of here.”
Already there were cries of alarm from the cultists around them, but only a couple got in their way to the exit, which Dantes took care of before she had the chance to. Only because she wasn’t trying of course, not because he was faster than her.
They made their way to the threshold quickly, the warm light washing over her, a light salt breeze blowing across her face. It smelled like freedom. Soon enough she would grasp it. For now, though, she had other fish to fry.
Dozens of cultists crowded the staircase blocking the sole path down. Looking up, she saw two familiar figures.
“Ah, priestess, your timing is most… fortuitous. I see you are in a hurry to complete the ceremony, but no need to be hasty. You left your guards behind. Victor, why don’t you see to it our priestess reaches the ritual chamber in time? Thank you, friend.”
“Get lost, weirdo. Mitts doesn’t want anything to do with you!”
The Master of Ceremonies flicked his eyes to Dantes, those marbles of onyx visible even under the gloom of his deep hood.
“Ah, the loyal companion. I would not force our friend to do this were the world’s fate not at stake, you see. What’s the life of one woman weighed against the life of everyone in the world after all? Stand aside, boy.” His eyes shone with barely contained zeal.
A cloud passed over the sun, throwing the world into a sudden gloom. A shadow perched on the fanatic’s shoulder like a vulture, whispering into his ear. A shiver from the sudden chill passed through her, the hair on the back of her neck bristling. If she had fur in this moment, it would’ve stuck straight out. The man nodded twice, and suddenly the darkness lifted, the cloud disappearing like mist.
“It seems the master has use for the boy too. Bring them both to the ritual chamber.”
With that, the Master of Ceremonies pivoted and ascended the steps at a brisk pace.
Above them, Victor looked down silent as usual, then flicked a signal to the cultists below.
They climbed quickly to meet them at the landing, surrounding them.
“Can I eat now?” whispered Dantes.
“Yes. Hurry it up.”
Dantes withdrew a loaf of bread, black as night and the size of his fist from his pouch. It wasn’t burnt. On the contrary, it emitted a lovely nutty smell. The sunflower seeds Dantes had brought back over a week ago had held a lovely smell of [Vitality] and [Growth], along with numerous less powerful scents. Combined with some yeast she’d stumbled upon recently, well…
In a single bite, Dantes crunched it down. A bit of a waste to inhale such a work of art, but unfortunately that seemed to be the nature of her power. A good dish should be properly savoured after all. She looked at his wolfish grin as he licked some crumbs off his hand. Perhaps that was Dantes’ power. Always appreciating food. It was a thought that had to wait as she wasted no time, popping a candy into her mouth and crunching down. There were only a couple candies left.
Behind her, Dantes grew taller. Slowly at first, a few inches, then soon big enough to step over the encirclement. He kicked at a cultist with speed unbecoming his new size. The cultist landed at a crooked angle between the wall and the stairs and was very much not getting back up.
She’d always tried to avoid direct fights if she could, but here there was no choice. An ache behind her fingers reminded her why.
The nervous tension broke as Mitty dashed forward, flickering as a weighted net clunked through the space she occupied, landing on the floor. She punched the man who’d thrown it in the face before sweeping his knees from behind and knocking him over the head with the hilt of her knife.
A sword passed through her leg like a mirage as she stomped a foot and slashed a groove through another cultist’s leg. As they recoiled away from her, she flicked three pepper balls at cultists trying to wrap rope around Dantes huge ankle.
He’d grown large enough he couldn’t fit entirely on the platform now without crushing her, and was precariously balanced, one foot balanced on a higher landing, one hand gripping the top of the ziggurat for balance. With his free hand, he was trying to crush cultists with the end of his staff, which had grown to enormous proportions alongside him, but only partially succeeding. Perhaps her plan could have used some improving after all.
She reached into her pouch and pulled another candy at random, this one burning cold on her tongue. She darted forward to another group, sliding across stone like ice, hooking their feet out from under them as the floor turned slippery for a split second, tumbling them to the ground. As she felt the effect waning, she exhaled the remainder of the magic onto a guard, freezing him solid mid swing like a statue.
By now, the landing had mostly been cleared of cultists, and she was about to shout up to Dantes that now would be a good time to go when she heard a familiar buzzing. From somewhere in the back of the ziggurat, dozens of wasps emerged, filling the air with an awful droning, their ugly black and yellow covering the sky.
She saw now the moon ever so slightly encroaching on the sun, just a nail’s width taken out of it. A few more minutes would bring their success. It was time to push for their escape. Below she saw gathering crowds for the festival. A festival apart from the one up here, but it would do nicely for cover.
She reached for another candy, preparing to shoot off down the stairs, but found her pouch missing.
Victor stood tall and impassive, her candy pouch in his hands.
“Sorry priestess, I need you to come with me now.”
“No chance, creep. Dantes! Dantes!”
Dantes saw them from up high, and his giant foot shifted as he tried to reach down, but several wasps intercepted him, stinging at his exposed arm. With a yelp, he swatted them away, delaying him by precious seconds.
Seeing she would have to do this herself, she opened with a thrown spice ball. Victor dipped his gait slightly as he approached, allowing it to pass over a shoulder, and deflected the follow up thrown dagger with the hilt of his sword as he drew it. He didn’t even have the grace to gloat over that last display.
She looked around. The stairs down were still blocked by cultists, only some of them conscious. Still, their bodies would slow her down. She didn’t fancy her chances jumping from this height either. Unless…
She saw Victor approaching steadily. She’d tried him before, and knew she couldn’t match him in speed or power or even skill. So, she did what she did best. She ran, reaching into her pocket as she headed for the ledge.
In a truly gratuitous moment, Victor’s eyes widened as he figured out her plan and started running too, but he was too late. It was ironic, she thought, that this situation should occur again but this time she was attempting to jump off a great height and someone was trying to stop her.
The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.
It didn’t matter now. She was free.
She pulled out her transformation stone, and with the final step, pushed off the railing to freedom… only to be yanked backwards violently by the cloak around her neck.
The stone skittered away, out of her reach as she reeled on the ground gasping for air, confused, when she saw what had happened. Her beautiful night black cloak was merged with the looming shadow of the eclipse, faint whisps of darkness tying her cloak to the stone and air around her, like a fly caught in a web. Thousands of grasping, spider silk thin hands grasped at her cloak, and with it, her. It wrapped around her now, pinning her in place, helpless.
Victor strode over silently, looking down at her with emotionless black eyes. With no more words for her, he picked her up like a sack of potatoes. She could barely even struggle, so tightly wrapped was her cloak.
“Dantes!” she yelled, but she saw he was getting overwhelmed, the wasps using their superior mobility to weave around him, biting him on the back and legs causing huge painful welts. Her magic seemed to be wearing off too, as she saw he had to reach up to hold on to the side of the ziggurat where before it had been up to his waist.
He didn’t seem to hear her as he shrunk more and more, and soon the wasps swarmed around him densely, only rippling away in response to his strikes. But those got fewer and fewer. Soon the droning sounds overtook everything, permeating through her skull with that awful buzz. She could feel it numbing her face and fingers, the vibrations causing even the air to shake. She felt numb. It overtook her other senses until it was her whole world. That terrible, awful sound.
They had closed in fully now, shrouding him completely from her sight, crawling over every inch of him, biting and buzzing angrily with no further signs of resistance. A tear worked its way out of her eye, though she felt empty. Her friend who’d been by her side this entire journey. One who she’d allowed into her heart. Her now broken heart. And there was nothing she could do to help as she lay helplessly bound like a fly in a trap, spirited away from him.
She felt the world darken, the color seeping out of the landscape as the vibrancy fled.
The wasp riders lifted away from Dantes and returning to a loose formation, their work surely done, revealing his unmoving body. Only it wasn’t. They lifted away to reveal a dense nest of branches, one wasp stuck within their clutches, struggling fruitlessly before it was engulfed. The noise did not diminish but seemed to grow louder with each passing moment.
She was far away now, but she saw an old man appear on the platform, a staff in his hands larger than himself. It was made of the dried thorny stem of a huge rose. He spoke, but his words were snatched up by the all-encompassing thrum… when suddenly streaks of green sliced through the air and the wasps scattered in all directions.
Hummingbirds big as horses flitted about, not so much bigger than the wasps, but certainly more majestic. They zipped about for a short time, eventually hovering above the temple in a V formation. Atop each rode a jungle denizen in their usual flower garb, but each wielded a long lance, thin as a needle.
There were five of them to the three dozen wasps, but their speed was incomparable. Blurs of green and red flickered through the cultists’ formation, hewing through them like meat from a bone. Every pass a bird made, a wasp fell out of the air, a hole pierced neatly through its head. Already, corpses of the wasps littered the side of the ziggurat below, when they made it to the peak.
They were at the entrance to the ceremonial chamber now, but just as she was carried in, she saw the vines shrouding Dantes part, as he tumbled to his knees, bleeding, swollen, looking like a dog’s breakfast. But whole. And though the world kept getting darker and darker, its vibrancy returned like a gasp of breath. Alive.
She returned focus to the brazier-flanked chamber with new resolve. Whatever lay on the other side of that door she had no doubt she did not want to face it. But if she died, Dantes would probably be a baby and cry, so she had to.
Not like she had the choice, she thought as she was carried through the threshold.
Inside the chamber, all the normal furnishings had been cleared out, save the central stone table, and had been replaced by braziers. The dancing flames flared brightly in the dark room, reflecting upon the black-gold trim of the table. Above, a large square in the ceiling appeared to be missing, revealing a grinning crescent of light.
By the table, the Master of Ceremonies stood calmly, though a look of triumph seemed on the brink of manifesting on his face, his smile mirroring the sun’s. In his hand was a simple dagger, completely unremarkable. So unremarkable it drew attention. It did not belong in this sleek temple of black and gold.
She felt the hair on the back of her neck raise at the sight of the dagger.
The Master of Ceremonies gestured something to Victor before pulling back his hood.
“Welcome, Priestess. Don’t worry about knowing your lines. Your part is… exceedingly simple.”
A ghost of a smile touched his lips as he said that.
“What’s wrong, Priestess? Cat got your tongue?”
She gave him her best glare, but seeing it had no effect, she opted for a different tactic.
“So, is this where you unveil your grand plan?”
He chuckled in response.
“Plan? Not so much. It’s simple. This cloak you have here, it marks you as the one chosen by ‘He Who Deals in the Dark’. He has ordained your death be delivered in… oh, twenty seconds. Your companion would have been a welcome addition, but it seems we’re out of time for substitutions” he said, glancing upwards at the remaining sliver of sun. “It’s really nothing personal, even though I will admit to some… satisfaction at the prospect of offering your beating heart to Him. Victor, hold her on the table, please.”
Two iron vices gripped around her wrists and heaved her onto the table, and though she kicked and struggled, her cloak still clung to her like a vise, making it ineffectual.
“I don’t suppose I could trouble you for a final snack, could I?” she tried.
“I’m afraid there’s no time for that, Priestess. Don’t struggle now, I’ll try to make this painless. Somewhat.”
Fear battled with anger as she tried to bite Victor’s hands holding her, but found they were closer to steel than flesh. She snarled and hissed and twisted, but she could not break free. If only she had one hand free… but it was too late.
The Master of Ceremonies loomed large over, dagger raised in all its perfect simplicity. As the last of the light faded, plunging the world grey, the dagger fell.
She screwed her eyes shut. She let out one final hiss of rage, then a cry of pain, anticipating the pain. But it never came.
She cracked open her eyes to see the Master of Ceremonies cradling his hand, blood spurting out like a fountain, dagger on the floor below.
She looked around, confused, before her eyes landed upon a figure stepping out of the corner, formerly hidden by the deep shadows cast by the braziers. A cowled figure in a cloak of shifting green, in his hands, a glowing red hand crossbow.
The Master of Ceremonies panted, glaring at him.
“You! I don’t have time for you” he snarled. “Victor, kill her. Quickly!”
In a flurry, one of her wrists was released as Victor made to draw his sword and strike in one fluid motion, but it too did not land. Instead, a faint trail of red blurred soundlessly past her eyes, leaving behind it a faint burnt toast smell. Victor stood, sword mid draw, motionlessly for a moment, just long enough for her to see a feathered bolt had sprouted from his eye, before collapsing onto the floor.
“No one will be killing my friend today” said Hawk, calmly placing another bolt into his crossbow. He looked at her now and continued. “I’m sorry Shadow. I should have come earlier.”
She sniffed, burying the torrent of different emotions warring inside her. They could wait.
“Well, no one’s perfect. Except me of course. Let’s be off, now.”
She hopped off the table, finding her cloak no longer hindered her movement. She brushed past him, quickly striding for the door when she noticed he wasn’t following. He was motionless, staring at the stone table.
“Hawk? Let’s go. I want to make sure my other idiot friend is okay.” It was an understatement, and she could tell she sounded worried.
Only then did she notice her surroundings had frozen too. The braziers’ flames were frozen mid flicker, their glow red upon the black bricks below. The moon above stood frozen in the sky, unwilling to give way to its rival, insistent on maintaining the eerie greying of the world. No wind blew in this silent world, nor did the blood pool or flames crackle.
“I’m afraid I can’t let you do that, Princess” a bored voice sounded out from all sides.
The voice was familiar, in that it was so utterly forgettable. Like the dagger, she realized. And a man… she forgot his name.
“Colin, miss Fuzzy Mittens, is the name I presented you. Of course that’s not my real name, but a demon can’t just be handing that out like candy, can he? Not like you, Princess Fuzzy Mittens Clark. That’s a bit of a mouthful, can I just call you Miss Clark?”
“What do you want, Cole? I thought the agreement was cloak for favor.”
“Of course, that was part of it. But they do say the devil is in the details after all. The agreement stated, and I quote, ‘In return for ownership of the cloak, the signer agrees to all the terms therein’. Not herein, mind you. No, you agreed to follow the terms of the cloak, not the contract.”
“And what, pray tell, does that mean, Corwin?” It was now she’d likely be getting a sinking feeling if she wasn’t feeling so emotionally whiplashed.
A slight hissing sound rung clear in the darkness. “None of that praying stuff around me, please. It means…” he trailed off as a shadow reached out to point at her beautiful, traitorous cloak.
At first nothing happened, but as she watched, the deep pure black that made up her cloak started flowing into the ground where it expanded out like an oil slick, trickling across the black bricks. Following a stream, she saw it was not liquid, but tiny runes, marching towards Colin like an army of ants. She barely made out the words ‘The signer agrees to be present at the Temple of the New Sun on the day of the eclipse’ as another stream intersected it, making it illegible as it crisscrossed with dozens, hundreds of other streams.
“You really ought to read the fine print, Miss Clark. Kraken ink on fuligin is an old trick.”
“You really ought to scurry off like the rat you are, Marvin” she shot back reflexively, but her heart wasn’t in it.
“Afraid not, Miss Clark. It’s not every day someone who’s both a princess and a voyager offers themselves up on a platter, and I would be… remiss to throw away the opportunity to walk under the sun once more.”
It was good to know he couldn’t be out in sunlight. Maybe if she could stall for time…
“And? How does that work?”
“Stalling for time already, Miss Clark? It doesn’t matter, I have complete dominion over this one moment in time. This one, infinitesimal instance of being, stretched infinitely. It’s fortunate the previous God of the Eclipse retired, he had all these rules about rituals and whatnot, there was no time to enjoy your power. If your time to shine only came around once every 400 years, you’d do well to make the best of it, no? Of course, that makes me pretty useless any other time, but that doesn’t matter to you; we have all the time in the world, and I’m feeling indulgent. Where should I start? Hmm. Well, it all began a long time ago when I was just a young imp, really…”
As Kevin, or whatever his name was, narrated monotone his tragic tale, she poked around the room. The braziers were still hot, frozen in place as they were, a whisp of flame licking upwards hanging in the air, waiting for the moment to fade and free it to its ultimate oblivion.
She tried leaving the room, but the shadows thickened into a solid barrier preventing her exit.
She kept her cloak on, some part of her unwilling to give up what was technically hers. She figured deciding to ditch it now was pointless anyway, trapped as she was in this moment in time.
Hmm, I suppose I may as well try that.
Ignoring Herman as he was explaining the intricacies of his contract with a sun godess, she pulled out the fish Dantes had handed her the night before. She’d figured she could just eat it raw, but since she had time…
She evaluated her ingredients. She froze as she fingered the bottle containing the aurora. It didn’t feel right, bringing it into this monotone world of captivity. She moved on to the other ingredients she’d brainstormed last night.
She picked up the plain dagger from the floor next to where the Master of Ceremonies sat crumpled and skewered the fish. It hadn’t been the most inspired course she’d ever prepared, but then again… fish was perfect on its own. A simple rub of chopped dandelion seed, salt and spices seemed adequate. In a moment of inspiration, she drizzled honey over the whole thing to lock in the spices. It would hopefully improve texture and keep moisture in, too.
“Oh yes, this part may take a while, make yourself comfortable, Miss Clark” Billy chimed in. “It’s not every day I have a captive audience.” She couldn’t hear the smile in his voice, but she knew it was there, somewhere in the shadows mocking her.
Heading over to one of the braziers, she held the fish over the bare flame. With the flame frozen midair, it was remarkably easy to sear without burning herself. When the skin sizzled, then crisped up a golden brown, she knew she was done.
She could smell [Freedom] in the air as she bit down, with all the annoyance and disdain of a cat caught in a moment in time. Trapped. The antithesis of a cat.
“Wait, what are you doing? Stop that. This is my moment. I was telling you my story. You’re not supposed to interrupt that! How are you doing that?”
As the demon spoke more and more frantically, the light shifted jerkilly at first, as though wrenching away from captivity. The flames switched in and out of stillness for a few moments before resuming fully. She saw Hawk flinch as she no doubt appeared to have teleported. Above, after what had seemed like an eternity, the thinnest crescent of sunlight peered around the moon.
“You weren’t allowed to break free! It’s against contract. Stupid cat! I’ve been waiting centuries for this. And you!” the deep shadows roiled and turned to Hawk, “you gave away your entire life for someone you barely know? Your name, your duty, your loyalty, your very being? Please, it’s not too late, just shoot her. Please? I know-“.
Interrupting his whining, a golden chain screamed through the skylight and pierced the heart of the shadows, illuminating an overly plain man with a look of confusion, then realization, then fear.
“Oh, there you are. Got a little lost on the way to the altar, Colin dear?” a voice said radiantly.
“Ah, Sera, just taking care of a little business, you know. Just a little delayed. But I was going to go, right after this” Colin said nervously.
“I’VE BEEN WAITING FOR 2000 YEARS!” the light boomed around them. It took an audible breath before continuing. “And what do I find you doing? Terrorizing some mortals. Hello mortals!” she added cheerily.
Mitty waved timidly, somewhat intimidated by this beautiful radiant woman.
“Please Sera, I was just about to… oh, alright…” he finished dejectedly, the radiant chains reeling him up into the growing sunlight.
“Sorry about my fiancée, mortals. He gets a little confused sometimes. But he has a good heart! Hmm. Here take this for your trouble, I guess. It was for the wedding, but it’s a little stale now so we’ll just order pizza instead. Later!”
As the sunlight’s glare receded, and she could see without squinting her eyes, she saw a crystal bottle of golden liquid, shimmering like quicksilver, and faintly glowing.
Taking it, she glanced at Hawk, but found him agog, mouth slightly open and a faraway look in his eyes. She shrugged and left the dark room behind her, emerging to the dust painted sky and clean ocean breeze. She smiled. The smell of freedom at last.