Page 28 of Devour
Stringed music floats from somewhere beyond the trees. Are there real musicians, or is it simply more magic?
The cloaked cult men and women dance first. Then, inside our sandy pit, the people around us kick their feet and bounce to the music.
“We should have gone into the desert,” Lorraine finally mumbles, staring at the flickering blaze.
I squeeze her arm tightly in agreement.
The dancing continues, and I feel like I’m going insane. Did these people not witness that woman’s death? Did they not hear the cult call it a blessing?
Do they too want to die?
Or are they so desperate for any respite from their fate outside the cult, that they play along in hopes of being accepted?
You are blessed.I hear Astella’s words in my mind.
She must have been wrong, or else I would have never ended up here. But I also know she does not think of death as a blessing. Pain is not power.
I cannot wrap my mind around that spectacle. It’s exactly what I expected from the cult I consider dread, but even so, slicing her open and drinking her blood is so despicable and disgusting that I hardly believe it was real.
A woman in a plain black dress and a white bonnet skips up to Lorraine with a smile on her face. “Dance,” she says. She forces a cup of juice into her hand. “Drink!” she tells her.
She grabs both forearms and guides her out into the crowd that spins and skips and bounces around the fire.
Lorraine’s cautious eyes glance back to me, but ultimately, she allows herself to be swept into the mob. I lose her quickly in the mass of moving bodies.
Survival is a powerful motivator. It can convince a good woman like Lorraine to celebrate with a mob that facilitates horrific death.
As more and more people begin to dance, I am pushed farther out of the circle toward the edge.
My limbs grow cold away from the fire, but I don’t dare join the revelry.
Several of the dancers now have cups in their hands. I stare at them, licking my chapped lips. Are the drinks the reason they’re so lively and carefree? Does it change what they see? Does it veil reality?
They see what they want to see.I hear Astella’s voice as if she were here, still guiding me.Their hope blinds them.
“What difference does it make?” I say to myself, realizing the weight on my chest is seeping deeper. “If we’re all dead anyway?”
The emotion that settles in my bones is bitter and sharp, but it fades to a dull throb. Energy seeps from my limbs. I can feel her irritation at my lack of confidence.
“I wish I believed you,” I whisper. I’ve never doubted her before. I follow her guidance because I know she is wise beyond anything I’ve ever known, but that faith can only reach so far. This is too far.
A gust of cold wind hits me in the back and pushes me toward the chaotic dancing.
You have to believe, Lina.
Why is the Astella in my mind so angry? I saved her. I did what I set out to do, and that’s enough.
My stomach sinks.Tears well in my eyes. “Even if I make it out of here, everything will be different.”
Yes,the voice tells me.But we will persevere anyway.
I’m tired. So tired. I don’t know what’s real anymore.
But for her, I would give anything. Not only would I die—I would live.
12
Lina
