Chapter 19
Wet earth squished beneath my boots as we trudged out into the darkness.
It wasn’t enough to go outside; we had to be surrounded by the night, untouched by any candle, and out of sight from watchful eyes.
We took a hidden exit in the walls, one I’d never seen, and went down the mountain until the road extended a footpath through delicately-manicured woods.
“How did you know about the door?” I asked, careful of my steps.
Florence looked over her shoulder, guiding the way with her oil lamp in-hand. “While you were seeing a play in the city, I was familiarizing myself with the castle grounds. It’s always beneficial to know your exits.”
I knew we were in a cedar grove by the smell and homogeny of the surrounding silhouettes. The moon was scarcely visible through the foliage, but eventually we happened upon a place where its light shone down like a beacon, perching itself atop a boulder.
“This will do,” Florence confirmed, taking me by the hand and leading me closer to the moonlight. Then she shut off the lantern, gently placing it aside. “Remove your clothes, my lady.”
Before I could interject, the sorceress preceded me in stripping down. I looked away, fumbling with my various articles, and finally managed to follow suit. I didn’t know why I had to be naked, but I knew that asking questions would mean receiving cryptic or vague answers…
No, it was better to simply act on Florence’s command. The answers would inevitably come.
“Lovely—now sit atop that big rock there.”
I did. The moon bathed me in unearthly white, making my skin glow.
Florence watched, seeming to approve of my malleability. “Do you trust me enough to close your eyes?”
I hardly knew her…but I did trust her, curiously enough. I believed wholeheartedly that she was merely an emissary of her god, nothing more. I closed my eyes and felt a hand take mine.
“You must not open them until I have given permission,” Florence warned. “Women have gone blind from this.”
Fear finally managed to creep its way in. “What can I expect…?”
Florence stroked my arm in a soothing motion.
“The Lord of Night does not take lives for free, my lady, especially on behalf of women He has not known. The Lord will want to…acquaint Himself with you. You must allow this coupling; it will establish your alliance, allow you to freely access His pool of mana.”
“Are you saying…” I started, and then a wind blew that chilled me into silence. I reclined onto the boulder, its cool surface flat against my back. I squeezed Florence’s hand.
“Fear not. He will not touch you physically,” Florence promised. “You will not die. And I am here.”
You will not die. Why did that sound so threatening?
I dreaded the quiet, wishing that Florence might pray aloud or continue to soothe in some way.
Now I was alone to my thoughts and the darkness, filling in the blanks as to what might be about to happen to me.
A distant presence loomed, growing bolder with every heartbeat; an encroaching cyclops, or some other beast of equal size, stomped through the woods in a hunt.
I could feel the earth trembling through the stone.
My heart pounded harder as the questions built: why was I naked?
What did she mean when she said that He would not touch me physically?
What was that sensation, like death itself was near?
“Maitre, I’m frightened,” my voice trembled, a sob rising in my throat. “May I open my eyes? Let’s end this. I will find another way—”
“Shush now,” Florence said, stroking my hand. “Breathe. You have nothing to fear.”
In the darkness of my eyelids, an image appeared. A person whose shape ceaselessly shifted, who was every color at once in great fluid transformations. It felt neither evil nor wholesome; in fact, it was distinctly absent of such energies, and all that I could feel was its breath, its pulse.
The Lord of Night loomed over me, caressing my skin in small gusts of air, like the wind was being strategically funneled across my body.
He felt my legs, little fine hairs rising in the wake of Him, my flesh prickling in protest. He felt my hands, my feet, my stomach, my arms all at once, as though submerging me in a bath of His concentrated presence.
I sank deeper and my breath drew into Him, my veins and nerves all lighting up as they filled with something warmer than blood.
A pain shot through me then: a tightness in my gut as though I’d swallowed poison.
My abdomen writhed, filled with worms, and all control of my body was taken as muscles seized and wretched.
I tried to call to Florence, but nothing came out—I was drowning, my mouth pried apart by invisible tendrils until I thought my jaw might split.
“Keep your eyes closed,” Florence reminded me.
He was inside of me, like another person was trying to take over my body.
Like my skeleton was being replaced with something amorphous, my organs rent until they fit His shape.
I tried to scream, fighting against the force that held me down; my back arched, feet cramping below.
Hours passed with no relief from the agony, no ability to express how I felt.
Florence’s thumb brushed over my hand. A thousand knives slashed away at the rest of me, my most intimate parts filled with needles and fire.
At last my voice returned, and the Lord of Night’s presence dissipated like smoke. My scream’s end filled the air, hoarse as if I had shrieked for all this time, and Florence held me down.
“Open your eyes, my lady.”
I whimpered, taking in the sight of the sorceress above me. I tried to speak and only spat all over myself, foaming at the mouth like a rabid animal.
“You’re okay,” Florence promised, cupping my cheek. “It’s done.”
My breath hitched, and then I sobbed, the tears streaming freely down my face. “I—I can’t—”
“You did, and you shall not need to do it again. Do you feel Him now, settled into you?”
All I felt was panic and the weariness that came from the assault of my spirit.
“The god’s within you now,” Florence said. “I know it hurt, and you must be terribly frightened. We are nearly done; then you may return to the castle and rest.”
I swallowed, the fear giving way to pure wrath. I sat up slowly, allowing Florence the time to back away.
“Percy,” I said, blaming him entirely for the suffering I’d endured.
Florence understood. She drew a circle on the stone around me, the white chalk hardly visible even in the light of the moon. Then, within that, a slew of astral symbols, twelve stars, and a moon in each cardinal direction.
“You need not tell me, my lady; tell Him.”
That shadowy presence returned, though I could not see it. He was in the circle with me, perhaps within my body itself, but the pain was swiftly becoming a memory.
I glared straight forward, as though a man sat in front of me.
“Percy Montfort must die. Tonight.”
A moment of uncertainty passed. I realized that I could withdraw it, only if I spoke up now, and held my breath in consideration. Then I lowered my head, and the feeling was gone, along with the Lord of Night.
Climbing down from the stone, I went for my clothes, dressing myself as the brisk temperature fully registered against my skin.
Florence watched, lacing up her own gown.
“How do you feel, Lady Alana?”
Cloak tied around my neck, I looked down at my hands. I’d just signed the death warrant of a man—a terrible man, but human nonetheless. There should be blood there, tinting my skin and drying beneath my nails. All I saw was dirt and indentations from the stone.