Chapter Eleven - Evie #3
They rose behind him like an angel’s, vast and feathered, but they were blacker than night, like the spaces between stars where light never reached. Tiny points of silver and gold burned across them in scattered constellations caught in the sweep of his feathers.
But still, he was unlike the others. He looked less adorned, less monstrous, less divine than the others. His light touched him and seemed to slide away without clinging to him. And something in me paused hard at the sight of him.
Both he and the woman at the center felt different than the others, and I couldn’t explain why.
But before I knew it, The First Light stepped forward, His robes spilling behind Him like molten light, and crossed the room to the throne.
When He sat, the chamber answered. Those automatons around him lifted in perfect, unnatural unison, rising on their knees, heads tilted upward, hands opening as one.
And then they began to chant. “Holy, Holy, Holy is the Lord God Almighty, who was and is and is to come.”
The words hit me like ice water.
Then they began again, “Holy, Holy, Holy is the Lord God Almighty, who was and is and is to come.”
Again. And again. And again.
Their voices were even and smooth. Obedience in perfect rhythm.
And for one insane, nauseating second, it reminded me of an amusement park boat ride with all those doll-like figures moving in eerie mechanical harmony while you floated past pretending it wasn’t deeply cursed if you looked at it too long.
Except this was so much worse. This wasn’t harmless play. This was robots made to worship Him while He sat on His golden throne soaking it in. I watched His face as He reveled in it. He needed this and wanted their devotion with a hunger so naked it made something cold slide down my spine.
I clamped a hand over my mouth. This was not the time to throw up.
Two of them didn’t rise. They were broken or turned off. One stayed bowed near the throne. Its sleek black head remained face down at the edge of the circle, motionless while the rest swayed and chanted around it.
He noticed, and His expression darkened instantly, the soft golden composure cracking into something childish and furious.
“No,” He snapped.
The chant continued. “Holy, Holy, Holy is the Lord God Almighty, who was and is and is to come.”
But two of them still didn’t move.
He leaned forward on the throne, jaw tightening. “Thyronis.”
Nothing.
“Morathis.”
Nothing.
The names moved through me strangely, feeling strangely familiar, but before I could give it anymore consideration, He stood in one abrupt, violent motion. Light flared hot around Him. And that was when the whole thing turned from horrifying to grotesque.
With all his omnipotent power, He was still just sitting there playing pretend with things I was pretty sure He’d built to adore Him.
“What the fuck?” I whispered, taking it all in.
It was so fucking weird and so deeply, viscerally wrong. This wasn’t divine or regal. It was just pathetic in a way that made the horror of Him even worse.
He turned sharply and kicked the merman in the head. It toppled sideways and hit the floor hard enough that part of its chest split open.
I gasped.
Inside was a central crystal burning with trapped light, thick and golden and alive. It pulsed once. Twice. Then flickered as the broken thing twitched on the floor, fingers jerking in small, useless spasms.
These were golems. Hollow things He’d built to kneel for Him.
He stared down at the broken one with disgust, not grief. “Useless,” He said.
Then He turned back to the kneeling ring and began naming them like a teacher taking attendance.
“Thyronis.”
“Morathis.”
“Ithryl.” A veiled figure inclined its head.
“Orrphyos.”
That one hit me like a sharp internal jolt and something in my chest pulled tight for no reason I could name. My eyes snapped back to the one with the night wings. Something about him made my pulse trip over itself.
Then—
“Deliphie.”
My whole body went cold. I knew that name.
When I looked up at Him, he looked at the automatons with something so possessive it made me look away.
I couldn’t stand here another minute. I didn’t know who they were, but I was certain— No, I knew.
He had built Himself a fake circle of beautiful kneeling things because the real things had refused Him.
I stumbled back from the wall so fast I nearly fell. The vision vanished at once, the stone thickening back into itself, but the image stayed burned behind my eyes, the chanting figures, the crystal heart, the golden throne, the way He sat in the middle of it all and played pretend.
My stomach heaved, and I turned and ran.
The hidden passage blurred around me. My bare feet slipped once on the stone, but I caught myself and kept moving, one hand clamped over my mouth, the other outstretched in front of me like I could push the sight of it away.
The seam into my room still stood open, and I followed that thin line of gold through the dark. I lunged through it, and the wall sealed behind me with a soft sigh.
I barely made it to the basin before I dropped to my knees and threw up.