Page 24 of These Divided Shores
Ben’s focus flickered. He remembered a crypt in Deza. All his dead relatives—his grandparents, from a plague; two other uncles, killed by an accident in youth; his mother and unborn sister during childbirth when Ben was small.
“Ours is a family of tragedy,”Elazar would say.“The Pious God ordained us in blood.”
Now Elazar pointed at Ben. “Botanical magic’s evil has corrupted my own son.”
Elazar had benefited the most when Rodrigu had burned. But every death in their family had benefited Elazar, earning him at least sympathy—at most, power.
Elazar wouldn’t hesitate to burn Ben, if it suited his needs. Ben had known since he was thirteen that Elazar had wanted Rodrigu to die.
Had Elazar killed them? Everyone in Ben’s family?
The crowd went silent again, absorbing the events with growing curiosity. But Ben couldn’t breathe, and the heat of the day became a pyre—
Elazar cupped his hands over his head in the Church’s symbol. Ingvar knelt at his feet. Councilman Andreu stood behind him, hands to his chest in the curvedV.
“Together—you and I, Grace Loray and Argrid—we will cull the evil and step into the future born again, purified,” Elazar told the village. “How, you may ask? Where to begin with undoing such deep, potent sin? The Pious God has heard your cries. He weeps to have you return to his fold. He has given me a mighty vision: a coming lightbathing Grace Loray. The light will start in your outlying cities—Port Mesi-Teab, Port Fausta, Port Camden—and will culminate in New Deza. This light will chase out every pocket of evil and bless the pure who remain. Obey the Pious God and you need not fear this War on Raiders. When it is done, this island will be such a bright beacon of obedience and salvation that the whole of the world will be in awe.”
Life meant nothing to Elazar. His parents, his brothers, his wife, his child—nothing.These Grace Lorayans meant even less to Elazar. He would strip the world raw if it served his goals. What did he want if not to save these people?
Ben looked at Jakes. “What is he talking about? What coming light?”
Jakes was gaping at Elazar. “I don’t know. I don’t—”
“Do not submit to the Pious God out of fear,” Andreu boomed, stepping to be flush with Elazar. “I have seen the blessings that come to those who submit to the Pious God. We were wrong to fight Argrid, and our resistance is why we had misery under their previous rule—we held to evil. Had we stopped our misguided attempts at revolt, we would have seen that the Pious God is infinitely more powerful than botanical plants.”
Andreu waved below the balcony. Ben couldn’t see, but after a moment, the crowd pulsed with awe.
Elazar placed a hand on Andreu’s shoulder, steering him out of the way. “These children suffered illness under thecare of magic-using physicians. I anointed them in the name of your island’s namesake saint, Grace Loray, the Grace of healing and purity. The Pious God healed them—their old wounds and scars—without magic. Only with purity.”
The murmurings grew. Someone wept with joy. The crowd—the people who had once cowered under the Church’s purification, the ones who had watched relatives die on pyres or vanish into holding cells—applauded.
Jakes’s face went ashen. He shoved back through the defensors, making for the dock.
“My healing potion,” Ben gasped. He had made more for Lu—while her father watched. Andreu had replicated his steps, and Elazar had given the potion to these children, in their water or their food, and laid hands on them to make a show of healing them through the Pious God.
This was how Elazar would do it. Trick his followers into taking magic, and claim the results were the Pious God’s power. These people had never seen long-term, instant healing of new and old wounds from Grace Loray’s plants, so what else could it be if not the Pious God?
When permanent magic became a factor, Elazar would give it to his most loyal devotees.“The Pious God blesses his followers with never-ending strength and permanent speed. Can your magic plants do this?”
“These are the sorts of blessings you will reap if you obey the Pious God,” Elazar declared. “As the purifying light moves through this island, those who are holy willbask in the glory of our most high God. Those who are evil will fall. Choose your side—push through the pain of sacrifice, and surrender any evil you may have today.”
The villagers eyed Elazar’s traitorous son. They looked at their surroundings—their battered homes; their impoverished lives under the Council’s rule despite the changes the rebels had promised.
They moved forward, dropping plants, vials, magic of every kind, at the base of the balcony.
Fury charged through Ben’s limbs. “He can’t do this. He’s manipulatingeverything—”
Defensors grabbed Ben to hold him back, but what stopped him was Gunnar, who angled into his path and enveloped him in a wave of heat.
“Not here, Benat. You will confirm that you are the traitor he has made you.”
Ben hesitated. Gunnar was right. Elazar would meet any objection with dismissal.
“See? The Devil grips my son. He speaks lies.”
“What can I do?” Ben begged.
Gunnar might have responded, but the crowd started chanting.
