Chapter 47
“Folklore often blurs the lines between reality and imagination. It’s a space where the impossible feels possible. We cannot discount the fact that so much of what we study has roots within that space.”
Entity Employee Handbook: R&C Edition
“Agnes.” Nic’s voice snapped through the silence. When she ignored him, he tried again, “Hey, Agnes, I’m talking to you.”
Agnes’s vicious face appeared once more above him, twisted with malice. “Speak again,” she hissed, “and you’ll die a mute.”
Nic scoffed at her threat and gave her his cruellest sneer. “I don’t have time for your threats. Who’s in charge? We both know it can’t be you.”
Agnes lifted her hand to strike him, but she was pulled away by one of her companions.
When the next face filled his vision, Nic was surprised to see the old man looking back at him.
“I’d appreciate it if you’d quit distractin’ Agnes from her work.” He spoke to Nic like they were talking about the weather. Like Nic wasn’t lying on a bloody altar. “We’re in a bit of a rush.”
“Then let me cut to the chase.” Nic hoped he sounded calmer than he felt.
His hands were sweating, and he was fairly certain his heart was beating twice the beats it should.
“I’ll let you kill me—no fuss, no fight—if you let my friend go.
She’s not seen your faces, not really, she’s forgetful, and by the time she finds help, you’ll all be long gone. ”
The old man watched him with keen eyes. They slowly observed every inch of Nic’s face before sliding over to look at Alexys, still coming to on the floor.
Nic held his breath and silently prayed the old man wouldn’t argue.
“Seems a bit pointless considering you’re strapped to the rock like that.” The old man’s shrewd eyes looked back to Nic. “You won’t put up a fight?”
Nic quickly shook his head. “I won’t, you have my word. Let her go, please, and I’ll comply with whatever ritual you have planned.”
The old man weighed his words, but he was called away before he could answer.
Nic jerked against his bonds and looked frantically at Alexys.
She was still lying in the dirt, but she was regaining consciousness.
If she came to before Nic could convince them to let her go, she would no doubt open her big mouth and ruin his plan.
He wanted to call that old man back over, but he didn’t know anyone’s name, only Agnes. And she was the opposite of helpful.
“What are these sacrifices even for?” Nic was asking anyone who would listen, desperate to buy enough time to save Alexys. “Do you worship an ancient deity, or are you delusional enough to hope for immortality?”
“Neither,” a new, unfamiliar voice answered from somewhere near his feet. “It’s tradition. Ancient magic protects us.”
“If it even works.” The disgruntled comment was immediately hushed, but not before it could pique his interest.
Nic turned his head to the left and right to try and catch sight of any of the others around him.
“How long have you been doing this? Tradition implies decades, if not longer. Killing that many people must be exhausting.”
“It’s sacred magic,” snapped another voice. “You wouldn’t understand the weight of that kind of sacrifice.”
Nic was quite literally the weight of said sacrifice, but that didn’t seem like the right comment to make.
Agnes stepped up beside him and shoved the other cultist away from the altar. “Quit talking to him,” she snapped. “We don’t have time for this.”
Nic clicked his tongue, the sound sharp and disappointed. “Glad to see you’re rude to everyone and not just me.”
Agnes scowled at him, an expression Nic was convinced was permanent, and leaned in close. “I know damn well what kind of monster this magic protects us from.”
There was a fear lurking in her eyes that ran too deep to be fake. Whatever their ritual was supposed to protect against, she fully believed it was real. That fear made Nic want to ask so many questions that he had to bite his tongue to keep them at bay.
“I’ve seen him,” Agnes whispered. “But even if it wasn’t real, I’d still enjoy killing you.”
“Then let her go and kill me yourself.”
“I don’t think you’re in any position to be makin’ demands.” Agnes looked over her shoulder, presumably at Alexys, and mused, “If one sacrifice is enough to protect us for a month, I can only imagine what three will do.”
Panic was surely the reaction she was looking for, but Nic couldn’t prevent the way his body immediately jerked against the restraints, trying to lunge at Agnes.
His wrists and ankles ached, but he strained against the bonds anyway.
His heartbeat became frantic as he watched the cultist approach Alexys.
“Leave her alone,” Nic snapped. “I swear to God, I will make this night absolute hell for you if you touch a single hair on her head.”
“And how exactly will you do that?” Agnes flashed a cruel smile at him and laughed. “You’re tied up and useless, remember?”
Nic hated her because it was true.
Nic hated himself because he couldn’t do anything about it.
There were no words that would let him talk their way out of dying that night.
No amount of knowledge, and no amount of bargaining.
Nic finally acknowledged how hopeless their situation was and let it loose in a wordless groan that ripped past his clenched teeth. Desperation was making his head spin.
Nic jerked and fought against the restraints as Agnes laughed.
Useless. So fucking useless.
Alexys groaned, and Nic looked over in time to watch someone tie ropes around her ankles and wrists. They bound her arms behind her back and left her kneeling on the ground. Only the firm grasp of two captors on either arm kept her from landing face-first in the dirt.
Nic was too late—he was always too late and never enough.
Her beautiful blue eyes blinked open, bleary but looking right at him. They knocked the air from his lungs and would have brought him to his knees had he been standing.
He truly cared for her.
Nic was … falling in love with her. He’d been a fool not to know until that moment.
And now, because of him, they were both going to die before he’d ever get the chance to tell her.