Stella didn’t let her resentment keep her from enjoying breakfast the next morning. After all, she needed to collect as much potential energy as possible. Besides, the skeletons did an incredible job cooking it. Consequently, her mood was much improved when she left to go to town.
Vatran waited for her outside the tower. “Good morning, Little Star. How goes your mission?”
“I’m making progress. Where’s Tarant?”
“He asked to be moved to a different assignment last night. He’ll be occupied by his studies for the foreseeable future.”
Stella nodded. After yesterday, it made sense that Tarant would dive into studies, trying to come up with a justification for the cult’s existence. She fully expected him to emerge in a few days with a theory about how the children entertained Vulcan with their games after death. That would comfort him. “I hope he finds what he’s looking for.”
Vatran smiled. “Until then, you need a different escort. I thought I’d do the job today. It’s been too long since we spent some quality time together.”
Stella smirked. “That’s one way of saying it.”
He clapped his hands, the sapphire on his finger sparkling in the sunlight, and they went down the path.
Eyeing Vatran’s ring, Stella asked, “Is that potential energy in your ring?”
Vatran nearly tripped. “What?”
“The magical energy you’re holding. Where did it come from?”
Vatran answered slowly, cautiously. “We get our energy from multiple sources.”
“And by that you mean multiple people?”
Vatran narrowed his eyes at her. “Did Elrick put you up to this?”
Stella shook her head. “I’m just curious. The only corpses he ever gets are the ones he burns himself. I figure that means you fanatics harvest the Well victims yourselves.”
“Don’t call them victims.”
“You don’t have to be shy about it with me. I know they’re not volunteers. They’re people you want to kill on your own terms so that you can harvest their potential energy yourselves.” She eyed his jewels again. “But you don’t seem to keep a big stock of it. What do you do with it?”
“If you must know, we use it to help fulfill petitions. Elrick rarely does anything for the people. He leaves it to us. You are one of the few exceptions. Elrick healed your mother and blessed you with magical capacity, providing himself an apprentice. In all other things, it’s up to his priests to hear and answer the petitions of his worshippers.”
“And you use rejected prisoners to do it.”
“Yes. But you’re not to—”
“I know, I know. It’s a secret, and I can’t breathe a word about it in town. Why do you think I asked you out here? Like I said, I was just curious.”
He frowned, puzzled. “You seem—” Then he smiled. “I see you’ve gained some respect for our religion. I’m thrilled to hear that. Maybe you’d be willing to start granting petitions openly, perhaps at the end of assemblies. When you’ve mastered enough appropriate spells, of course.”
Stella inclined her head. “Maybe.”
“Healing spells and potions would be a must. Many ask for healing, either for themselves or a loved one. That would be a good place to start. I’ll send you a list of petitions later so you can determine what other spells might be useful.”
“Thank you. I’ll keep that in mind.”
They went into town to collect Stella’s shopping and talk to the people. Vatran made a point of prompting people to tell Stella their petition, then sending the person on their way and suggesting a magic-based solution. Many of his suggestions were spells, potions, or other magical objects, but a few were of a very different nature. After talking to Promitto, who wanted his village’s bandit solution addressed, Vatran said the best thing to do was to send their hunters after the bandits and put them in the fanatics’ secret prison to await death. Another man, a merchant, expressed a wish for better business, and Vatran suggested removing the man’s competitors in a similar manner.
Once Stella’s shopping was done, Vatran introduced her to Ortu Impes. Stella recognized him as a cultist who’d kept hold of the children on top of the Well tower as they awaited their turn to drown. He was of a practical disposition and wore a softly-glowing topaz ring. He expressed a hope that Stella would help the people increase their faith in Elrick and Vulcan.
“I hope so, too,” Stella said.
Impes nodded. “Our part as priests is to preach Elrick’s doctrine and fulfill the peoples’ petitions the best we can, but we are greatly limited by our energy budget. Your part as Elrick’s apprentice is to accelerate the latter. We’re counting on you to get Elrick to grant more petitions, or learn to grant them yourself.”
“I’ll do my best.”
Stella spent the next few days collecting and practicing magic. She couldn’t locate Elrick’s heart yet, but she did manage to get the spell to work for things she’d seen before: things like her wolf pelt blanket and the book of Basic Spellcasting. Meanwhile, she followed Vatran’s advice and studied up on other useful spells. The skeletons brought her a live squirrel to practice healing spells, and she learned how to brew two different healing potions. She also learned two more unlocking spells, more powerful and versatile than the first. If Elrick hid his heart behind a lock, she was confident that one of the unlocking spells would help.
Impes escorted her when she went to town. He wasn’t nearly as amusing to listen to as Tarant, but he had some experience with magic. He offered plenty of ideas for spells that might come in handy, and Stella kept a running list of them to look up later.
At the end of the week, the dinner table was set with the last of the meat from assembly day. Stella wasn’t too concerned, since there would be another assembly the next day. When she finished, she got up and headed upstairs to practice magic, but Elrick stopped her.
“Wait a moment, Stella.”
Stella turned, wondering if she’d forgotten something. “Yes, sir?”
“There is to be an offering meeting tomorrow morning.”
Stella raised her brows. “So soon?” Was Vatran trying to accelerate her mother’s death?
“Yes. They usually happen two weeks apart, but the fanatics have informed me that they’ve filled their prison to capacity. Therefore, they are holding an offering tomorrow.”
“I see.” Stella bit her lip. Elrick had promised not to choose Laurel, but she’d only have one more presentation after this before the fanatics drowned her. That gave her four weeks at most, but what would stop the fanatics from holding another surprise offering before then?
“I’d like to formally invite you to accompany me, but you must behave yourself. No interrupting the process. No speaking unless I address you.”
Stella nodded. “I understand.”
“Considering the circumstances, I intend to select more than usual this time. If you behave, I’ll even let you choose one to do with as you please.”
Stella’s jaw dropped, the implications banishing her concerns. “Thank you, sir. Thank you.”
Early the next morning, Stella stood beside Elrick’s throne of yellowed bones in the offering room, looking down smugly at the fanatics. Little did they know that their hold on her was about to disappear.
Blackened skeletons marched prisoners into the room, lining up just behind the scorch marks that pocked the floor. Stella widened her eyes at the sheer number of them. There were twenty-two ruffians, plus Tutelan, Luna, and, of course, Stella’s mother, Laurel. Then there was Prince Dein of Cephaneia, as well as a younger man who bore great resemblance to the prince. As it was, the skeletons had to squeeze their captives together to make a straight line, but more footsteps still echoed from the prison door.
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Tarant walked in. Like the others, he was gagged with a rag, dressed in a dirty tunic, and pushed in by a skeleton. Unlike the others, he held his head high, eyes determined. He met Stella’s gaze with a fierce glare as his skeleton captor squished him into line with the others.
Stella gaped. Vatran had told her that Tarant was busy studying. Instead, the young fanatic had been trapped in prison to await either drastic humiliation or death.
“Oh, great and ineffable Elrick,” Vatran recited his lines from behind the row of prisoners.
Stella didn’t listen. ‘What happened?’ she mouthed at Tarant. He only deepened his glare.
Stella tried to steady her breathing. This was wrong. Tarant wasn’t supposed to be in this lineup. He was supposed to be wandering around town spouting optimistic nonsense about Elrick’s doctrine.
Vatran finished, and Elrick began questioning the prisoners. He wanted to find the ones with the most potential. Elrick had taught Stella early that age played a huge role in potential, with younger people generally having more than older people. But there were other factors, too, including talents, station in life, and influence over other people.
That meant Tarant was in trouble. He was young, he held a position of authority, and everyone in town liked him. He could very well have more potential than any of the other prisoners, with the only exceptions being the two princes.
If Elrick realizes that, Stella thought. Tarant will be dead in an instant. I have to do something.
Elrick reached the end of the line, and the skeleton holding Tarant removed his gag.
“Tell me,” Elrick said, “Who are you, and why should I let you live?”
Tarant glowered at Elrick. “I am Tarant, former—”
“That’s Mediet Tarant,” Stella interrupted. “He’s here to ask for a promotion.”
The skeleton covered Tarant’s mouth, and Elrick turned slowly to regard Stella. “Excuse me?”
Stella bowed her head. “May I speak, sir?”
“You had better have a good reason for interrupting me.”
“It’s important, sir.”
“What is it?”
Stella nodded to Tarant. “He wants to be an Ortu.”
Elrick scoffed. “Don’t lie to me, girl. If he wanted that, Vatran would have said so.”
“Indeed, sir,” Vatran said from behind the prisoners. “He is no Mediet. He’s a prisoner, just like the rest of them.”
“Vatran is lying, sir,” Stella said. “Tarant has been asking for progression for twelve years, but Vatran won’t allow it. He put Tarant in prison to stop the pestering.”
“I can relate,” Elrick said. “You haven’t justified your interruption, girl. The boy could have told me these things himself. Do I need to revoke my offer from earlier?”
“He wouldn’t have said anything about it. He’s your most devoted follower. He’d rather let you incinerate him than speak out against your most prominent Magister.”
Elrick stroked his chin, watching Tarant’s angry expression behind the bony hand. “Very well. In that case, Stella, what would you say his honest answer would be? What does he live for?”
“He lives to serve you, sir.”
Tarant glowered at her. Elrick seemed to take that as confirmation of her words. “It’s settled, then.” The skeletons holding Dein, his brother, and three of the more charismatic ruffians stepped forward, and the others stepped back. “Make your choice from the back row, Stella.”
Stella’s gaze went to her mother. She’d planned to choose Laurel, then set her free. But that wouldn’t do. Vatran wanted to get rid of Tarant, and Stella doubted he’d give the young man the benefit of a second presentation.
“Aren’t you going to promote Tarant?”
Elrick shook his head. “He has no capacity to wield magic. He cannot progress without that, and it’s not something that can be learned.”
Stella took a deep breath. There was only one thing for it, then.“In that case, I choose him.” Her mother would have to wait. She could survive a little longer. Tarant wouldn’t. Tarant’s skeleton pushed him forward. The fanatics branded the rest on their cheeks, and the skeletons marched them back to their cells. The skeletons with the chosen six condensed their captives into a smaller space, and Elrick stood, conjuring his fireball.
“Wait,” Stella said. “You’re not going to kill him with the others, are you?”
Elrick paused. “Is that not what you wanted?”
Stella shook her head. “You said I could do as I wished with the prisoner I chose.”
Elrick sighed and bent to whisper, “I’d assumed you would just free your mother. This is different. He’s a fanatic, or he was. Either way, I can’t let him go free. He’d spread word of this to the people and cause all sorts of problems. I don’t have time to deal with that.”
“Let me take him to the tower, then. He can help me with my studies, and I can practice some spells on him. He’ll do much better than that squirrel.”
Elrick considered that. Then he nodded. “Very well.” He turned to Tarant. “In serving my apprentice, you serve me. Follow her orders to her satisfaction, or face her punishment. And remember that her fire is not yet strong enough to grant salvation. Go now.”
Tarant’s skeleton captor, still covering his mouth, pushed him into the tunnel toward the tower. Stella followed, and the sounds of fire amplified behind them.
When they reached the cellar, Stella skirted around them. “This way.” She led them up to the library, where she instructed the skeleton to uncover Tarant’s mouth. “Tarant,” Stella said, leaning against a shelf, “What’s going on? How did you end up here?”
“I think you know.”
“But you’re the most devoted fanatic I know. You were supposed to be studying, not sitting in prison.”
“And Elrick is supposed to show some small measure of generosity. Instead, he stays in his tower, only thinking of himself as his worshippers kill each other.”
Stella paused. “You… you really don’t believe it anymore?”
“Do you believe it now? I’ve realized that you didn’t before. But now you seem to relish the death Elrick’s doctrine causes.”
Stella bit her lip, a small knot forming in her stomach. “How did Vatran find out?”
Tarant glared at the floor. “My own naiveté. I brought him my questions about the Well. He tried to convince me to forget it, like you did. Then he saw I meant it, and he put me in prison.” He snorted. “He said how sorry he was that it had come to this. ‘Your story inspires people,’ he said. ‘I hate that it has to end this way.’ Smiling the whole time. He said I’d have three opportunities to appear before Elrick. I could rejoin their order at a lesser rank after the first two, but they’d drown me in the Well after the third time. That only confirmed my doubts. The Well victims had almost all been unwilling. The adults nearly always had three rejection brands, and the rest were children who don’t know the difference.”
Tarant raised his glare to Stella’s face. “Not that you’re listening. You’re one of them, now. Do what you want to me, but know this: I am going to spend the rest of my life doing everything I can to free the people from Elrick’s rule. Even if that only means trying to get you to come to your senses now. Even if it only works so far as to inspire your guilt, and even if you kill me for making you feel that pain. Because I feel it now. I’ve convinced people to fruitlessly throw away their lives. I’ve helped execute unwilling and undeserving prisoners at the Well. I’ve led children to their premature deaths, for Dracon’s sake!” He dropped his head. “I am the most despicable lump of filth that has ever breathed. I have to keep more murders from happening.”
The knot in Stella’s stomach grew and twisted so much that she thought she might throw up. She slid to the ground, resting her head on her knees. If Tarant thought he was that bad, then how evil, how corrupt, how rotten was Stella herself? Tarant had grown up in the cult, its doctrine his entire world, not knowing any better. Now, he saw the error of his ways and was determined to correct them. Stella was the opposite. Her exemplary mother had raised her on principles of truth, justice, and hard work, and Stella had spat in her face. At every turn, she’d chosen evil. Sure, the consequences would have been dire if she’d stuck to her principles, but at least then she’d have retained her integrity. Instead, she’d become the eager apprentice of the most evil sorcerer in the history of Dracon, disappointing and alienating her mother and procrastinating her initial mission to kill Elrick.
“It’s all my fault,” she murmured. “This whole thing is my fault.”
Tarant snorted. “Don’t pretend to be sorry. Sure, you helped me realize the truth, but don’t act like that’s bad. I’d rather die for the truth now than keep living a lie. So whatever it is you’re going to do, get on with it.”
Stella shook her head. “It’s not that. I— I came here to avenge my father’s death. Instead, I’ve become a cannibal and a witch. I’m a monster.”
Tarant cocked his head. After a puzzled pause, he said, “I don’t understand.”
“Elrick killed my father, and I came here to kill him.” She told him the whole story: how Vatran had pressed her into the apprenticeship by holding her mother hostage, how Elrick had convinced her to do increasingly horrible things in pursuit of magical power.
She dwelt bitterly on the points where she willfully chose evil, alternative solutions springing to mind. She could have fled from the beginning, going to get help from some sympathetic city or state. She could have gone to the prison and freed her mother by herself, telling any questioning fanatic that Elrick required Laurel’s life, then fleeing out of the valley with her. She could have flatly refused to participate in Elrick’s cannibalistic rituals.
She’d assumed that espionage and subtlety were the only means to both kill Elrick and save her mother. She’d thought she could maintain her moral superiority over the evil sorcerer by sheer force of will. Instead, she’d taken every chance to descend to his level.
Stella buried her face in her knees, wishing she could disappear. The volcano’s fiery maw would be less torturous than what she felt at that moment.
Another painful pause passed. Then Tarant said, “So… now what?” His anger was gone, replaced by practical calm.
“I don’t know,” Stella said.
“I do,” a low voice said. Stella jumped to her feet to face the sound. Elrick came up the stairs. “An assassin,” he continued thoughtfully. “Interesting. I must admit I hadn’t expected that.”
Stella’s insides turned to ice.