Wave Runners Lasniniar Collection

Chapter Six

Chapter Six

Sacrifice

Tepwe watched his priests distribute the sacred herbs from beneath his painted eyelids. The sun was just setting, and everyone who lived in the Tangle Wood was in attendance as darkness spread across the land. The people huddled close, like eager children awaiting a treat. As each fur-clad Direling accepted their portion and placed it on their tongue, their eyes rolled back and their faces slackened into expressions of religious ecstasy. Soon, everyone faced the altar in collective silence. The high priest leaned on his horn-tipped staff and looked on with satisfaction.

Good. The god will be pleased by their obedience.

He gestured for the first sacrifice to be brought, the heavy sleeve of his robe slipping down to reveal a slender, brown arm. Two priests with painted faces brought forth a large, gray wolf. They dragged it forward by the thick ropes bound around its neck. Although the beast had already been sedated to ensure the ceremony went smoothly, its hackles raised as it approached the altar. Three more priests stepped forward to help secure the sacrifice atop the dark stone surface. Its jaws snapped at the air as it writhed and snarled. Tepwe gave a nod of approval from beneath his hood.

Although he knew the god would enjoy something better than a meager animal, the creature had spirit. Its fear would only whet the god’s appetite for the ceremony’s main course.

One of the priests drew a stone knife as another exposed the wolf’s throat. Tepwe inhaled sharply as the blood poured down onto the altar, adding yet another crimson coat to its surface. The wolf whined and twitched. Tepwe threw back his hood, revealing his own painted face, surrounded by tangles of dark hair. He faced the altar and raised both arms in the air, chanting the god’s name. A chorus of voices took up the chant behind him in the forest glade. He closed his eyes, letting the power sweep over him, drawing him into the Direlings’ collective memory.

The Direlings had always lived apart from other humans. They preferred the wilderness, where they could be closer to nature’s pulse of life and death. They understood animals better than other humans. They knew the power they could offer. They lived among them, crossbred them, and used their innards in oracle ceremonies to predict the future. Always, they made sacrifices in the hopes of attracting the attention of the distant god that had chosen them to live this life. The god had never spoken to them before, but their belief had never wavered. Why else would they be set apart from other humans?

Tepwe knew all this already, but it was the way the memory always began. He took comfort in its familiarity, anticipating what was to come.

He watched as a green-skinned creature crept inside the borders of the Tangle Wood with a spider-like gait. Its head swiveled from side to side as its slitted, red eyes attempted to pierce the shadows. But this was the Direlings’ domain, and they were prepared.

A group of hunters surrounded the creature. At first, it tried to fight back, but a stone missile from a hunter’s sling struck its temple, and it crumpled to the ground. The hunters trussed and bound the creature, carrying it toward the altar glade. The Direlings had only one punishment for intruders: sacrifice.

They waited for the creature to regain consciousness before beginning the ceremony. It hissed and shrieked in its bonds, shouting at the assembled Direlings in a language they did not understand. The air grew heavy with anticipation as the priests prepared to perform their task. The Direlings watched in hushed expectation, each of them somehow sensing this sacrifice would be different. A shiver traveled down Tepwe’s spine as he watched the events from the past unfold.

The scrawny creature seemed to be pleading now, its eyes wide and desperate as its long fingers clawed against the unyielding stone of the altar. It began to writhe like a thing possessed. The high priest—Tepwe’s long-dead predecessor—waited, prolonging the moment of doom. The creature’s back arched, and its shrieking reached a climax as it uttered a single word.

The name of the god.

The Direlings hadn’t known it until that moment. It rang through the clearing, the air shuddering with power. The high priest gestured, and the creature’s throat was slit as the name died on its lips.

For a terrifying moment, nothing happened. The creature uttered a gurgling moan as its lifeblood dripped onto the altar. Then a whirlwind suddenly swept the clearing, churning leaves and debris in its wake. The Direlings watched in awe as the whirling darkness approached the altar, surrounding it. Moments later, the sacrifice disappeared, completely consumed. The only sign it had ever been there at all was the damp bloodstain on the altar.

The whirlwind slowed to a stop, revealing the faint outline of the figure inside. The Direlings fell to their knees as one, bowing their heads to the ground in complete submission.

Tepwe’s spirit soared as he basked in the memory of that moment. Even though it had taken place generations before, it still remained vivid—yet another gift of the god.

The Direlings had been fortunate enough to gain the god’s favor and attention, but Tepwe knew he was still restless. Every sacrifice added to his power, but he was still unable to completely bridge the gap to this world. Tepwe had hoped the newest batch of sacrifices he had found would be enough. They were unlike anything his people had tried before. But they had sacrificed several of the exotic creatures already, and although the god was pleased by them, he remained bound.

As the priests prepared the next victim, Tepwe pondered the problem. He desperately wanted to be the high priest to secure the god’s freedom. He couldn’t imagine a greater honor. He had to believe that somewhere out there, the perfect sacrifice was waiting.