Chapter 12
twelve
In the quiet, the ancient I’phri’s voice echoed across our heads. Each stanza settled another line into his gaunt face. With every movement, his robes fell from his thin frame.
“We gather as we always do on this day of remembrance to chase away the scourge on our lands. With heavy hearts, we bow to our greats and beg with our blood for their mercy. May our gods present themselves.”
“I’m here,” said a female I’phri, with a gentle voice like an ebbing river.
“I offer myself.” When she emerged from the crowd, I nearly fell backward.
From head to toe, she was covered in frozen flowers that dotted her head like a crown beside sapphire sigils etched directly into her flesh.
I’d never seen a gown as bright as hers, the same color as the surrounding deathly ice.
Two more people followed: one man and another woman. The woman wore a midnight dress, and the man, pooling robes of ivory and ebony stitched together.
They all converged at the center, holding swirling carvings—a circle, and a crescent that shed wilting flowers—except the woman in the midnight gown.
She held nothing but her stoic peace. Despite their resilience and cloak of tranquility, the crowd bristled.
An unease spread across us as the I’phri restlessly shifted.
The three ignored the palpable dread and began a horrid dance, humming to themselves as they bobbed and weaved.
Every movement was graceful, fluid, and lewd.
The ivory-clad woman stopped, looming above the priest. “I am Finitar, and I give myself to suppress the fallen star and his plague across Eltide.”
“I am Abcin, and I shred myself for the fallen star,” said the woman in raven robes, cupping her empty hands above her head. “The forest is ours, and I give myself to wrench it from his grasp.”
The man shuffled his feet, staring at the women. “Hear me, I am Dimeidas, and I will shatter myself to appease the fallen star.”
“Bow, our children,” they echoed. Everyone bowed, except me, faltering by a second.
A sudden shift in the air drew discomfort, pooling it in my gut.
Aelen’s musky breath warmed the shell of my ear. “You’ve made a grave mistake in coming here.”
“You wanted me to look upon the gods, and now I am.”
“Not like this.”
Something swum across his face—not anger, but another emotion I couldn’t read.
I pressed further. “I want to learn more about your people.” But as I spoke, a mist condensed along the ground, unfurling and static to the touch.
It pricked my legs like thorns, and while it didn’t draw blood, it broke my skin into a brisk sweat.
What is this?
It skimmed against my skin, unnatural and closer to an apparition than a fog.
Aelen’s breath quickened. “This isn’t knowledge, this ritual culls the curse of Eltide. We don’t do this because we desire this, we do it because we must.”
I couldn’t help but look into his eyes, the draw too strong. But what I found broke me. Earnestness and swirling fear. As far as I knew, Aelen didn’t fear—what could terrify him? What was he afraid of? And why was he being honest now?
A shudder tore across the square—not a breeze or wind but something else. Like the crunching and rolling of fallen leaves, almost a groan.
A chill ran down my spine, and I drank in air. I should have listened to him. We should have left.
“It’s too late. Don’t move,” he whispered into my ear. His warm words were welcome, but the uneasiness coating them was not. “The forest will come and it will terrify you. You will think that you will die, but you will not, I swear.”
The blood in my veins turned to pure ice when he whispered the next sentence. “Do not be afraid. It can sense your fear. It doesn’t know you and would love to consume you.”
The shadows around us shifted while violent flurries formed in the center near the waltzing dancers.
In the chaos, I nearly missed her drawing a blade.
She raised it as a pulsing flurry whipped into her, leaving crimson slashes along her forearms. The apparition of the flurry shrieked, bearing its icy fangs and claws.
I suppressed a cry, and Aelen wrapped his palm around my mouth, trapping my scream.
“Do not speak, do not make a sound. They want to stop the ceremony.”
“Why? What’s there to stop besides dancing?” I muttered into his palm. I didn’t think he could hear, but he leaned close, his nose moving my locks from my ear.
“Sacrifice.”
Without waiting any longer, Finitar raised the blade to her throat and separated it with a crimson spray. Soon, a deluge ran down her pristine linen and pooled in the snow.
I screamed. Horror pierced my veins as every part of my skin slickened.
Aelen’s fingers tightened, digging into my jaw. The person beside us craned his head in our direction with milky eyes. He groaned while his mouth unhinged and widened.
And he reached for me.