Page 105 of Anatomy of the Immortal Species
“But you said—” She frowned. “Never mind.”
They passed Burgas and continued south. Amelia rested her head against the seat, her gaze lost in the green crowns of the trees. For a moment, the hands on the wheel didn’t belong to a necromancer, but to her father. The back seat wasn’t a shadowy void but filled with her brother’s childish jokes.
The sign for Sozopol pulled her from the memory. Suddenly, the silence in the car felt suffocating.
“Don’t you ever listen to music?” she asked.
Constantine’s fingers glided over the display, and a melodybegan to play from the speakers. She read the song title:Carnival of Rustby Poets of the Fall.
She leaned back again, but this time, reality grounded her. They were deep in the mountains now. The road to Beglik Tash passed through Primorsko. Amelia had only been to the seaside town in the summer when the streets buzzed with life, the restaurants overflowed with tourists, and the nights were just as lively as the days. Now, outside the active season, the place seemed eerily empty.
A winding, narrow path led to the ancient sanctuary, guarded by a police patrol at the entrance. The uniformed officers observed them, their eyes glowing in the dark in a way that only an immortal’s eyes did. Constantine exchanged a few words with them before driving the SUV up the hill.
The asphalt tapered off into the forest, turning into a rough woodland trail. A small clearing marked the beginning, where parked cars lined the edges, and other creatures moved around.
“We go on foot from here,” Constantine said, donning a black anorak over his T-shirt and pulling the hood over his head.
Amelia followed his lead, covering most of her face. They got out of the car and joined the line of creatures climbing the hill towards the sanctuary. The path led them to a wide, green meadow. At one end, the unusual stone structures of Beglik Tash loomed. The ancient sanctuary was an arrangement of massive stone blocks of various shapes and sizes, carved circles, and hollows.
In front of the stones was an open giant tent, glowing with light from within. Inside, seven women sat around a long table, observing the gathering creatures. Various objects were laid out on the table. Thanks to large metal lanterns on either side of the table, the nymphs were well-illuminated, but most of the meadow remained shrouded in darkness.
“Those are the Chief Nymphs. They choose the High Nymphand crown her,” Constantine explained as they mingled with the crowd forming in front of the tent.
Amelia scanned the area. “Do you see Presiyan?”
“No.”
“What if he’s without a mask?”
Constantine tapped her shoulder. “Again – calm down.”
The nymph at the centre of the table rose to her feet. On most women, such light blonde hair would have looked unnatural against a dark complexion, but on her, it was strikingly harmonious. She thanked everyone present and announced that after twenty-four hours of deliberation, the conclave had reached a decision. She then invited the current High Nymph to speak.
The High Nymph turned her back to the crowd and faced the chiefs. Her hair was a mix of silver, gold, and copper hues, adorned with a shimmering golden wreath. A flowing emerald-green gown accentuated her delicate figure. Her voice was warm and melodious as she expressed her gratitude to the Chief Nymphs. At the end of her speech, she removed the wreath from her head and placed it on the table.
After she stepped aside, it was time to announce the new High Nymph. With each passing moment, Amelia’s throat tightened.
The coronation of the High Nymph was a ritual in which each of the seven chiefs gave their blessing by presenting the chosen one with a symbolic gift that represented a feminine strength. The first nymph picked up a vase from the table before her and gifted it to the chosen High Nymph. “Just as this vase can provide a home for any flower, so can your womb create a home for…”
She trailed off, her features frozen. Gradually, all the nymphs under the tent adopted the same stunned, almost stone-carved faces. It was surreal. Amelia side-glanced at Constantine, but he was staring to the right.
The lantern lights illuminated three figures. The golden-masked demon in the middle was even more terrifying than Amelia remembered. To his right stood a tall figure with a dark red mask depicting a ghost caught mid-scream. The mask to Presiyan’s left resembled a white cat’s muzzle with bulging yellow eyes and black spots on its forehead. All three figures were cloaked in black robes.
The golden demon broke the silence. “We are here as observers, Chief Nymphs.”
His deep voice, distorted by the mask’s opening, sent an unpleasant shiver down Amelia’s legs.
Long, strained moments later, the Chief Nymph with dark skin and light hair spoke. “Presiyan…We are honoured that you are present at this important event for our kind.”
The golden demon nodded in response. The nymphs resumed the ceremony of giving gifts, but tension was evident in their expressions, and their eyes kept darting towards the masked figures.
Amelia couldn’t take her eyes off Presiyan, either. It wasn’t hard to keep track of him since the entire crowd had parted from the three Tribunal representatives. She hoped Constantine would give her a sign to indicate the right moment to make her move. They would likely have to wait until the conclave concluded.
However, before the last nymph could present her gift, Presiyan spun around, followed by his companions, and the three of them left in a swift stride.
“He’s leaving!” Amelia whispered.
Constantine tracked the black figures with his gaze. “Let’s go.”
