Page 25 of Devour
I stare up in awe at a woman who is simultaneously the most beautiful and the most horrifying woman I’ve ever seen.
She is adorned with shining golden silk, draped elegantly on her slender body, breasts nearly exposed. Her lips more plump than is natural. Her hair a flaming red.
When the golden priestess came to my village years ago, I only saw her from afar, but I am almost certain she did not have red hair like this.
Is the hate and rage stirring in my belly unfair? She is not the same person who condemned Lucca. But she is, perhaps, the one who will condemn me.
“Tonight will be the most important night of your lives. We will celebrate survival and victory and prosperity, together as one. We will cull the curses that plague you, and by morning, you will know your true place. We will eat and drink and dance and give thanks to the Ancient One who has seen fit to save you from the horrors of the world and give you true peace.”
“Yes,” the mousy woman near me whispers again. “Mercy, mercy.”
“The Ancient One is renowned for his mercy, yes.” The priestess’s eyes are soft, her expression one of hope as she peers at the woman still on her knees.
“You have encountered countless traumas. Starvation and violence—the great curse. This curse spares no one out there.” She points to the trees behind us. “But here, we have a sanctuary of peace and prosperity where it cannot reach us.”
The strangers around me murmur, hopeful. Did they come here willingly, hoping the Drak’yn people would accept them and save them from the pain of the world? Or were they taken like me?
“Tonight, the Ancient One will choose your fate. Some will be accepted as equals in our community. Some will be chosen to become warriors or servants. Some, proselytes, will give their lives to Nihil, the great god of death. There is much work to be done! There is a place for each of you.”
“See,” a man whispers to a woman. “They’re going to save us.”
I swallow. For a moment, I consider the possibility that I’ve been wrong. That this place could have some good among the bad. Maybe I’ll be cared for in the way I’ve ached for since the day my mother died.
But the pressure on my chest, and the remembered whispers of past survivors, tells me that while you should never give up, that does not mean blind trust.
Hope means continuing to fight. It does not mean assuming the best just because you want it so badly.
“Lina?” someone whispers from inside the mass of people.
My heart skips a beat. I don’t recognize the voice.
“Lina!” she calls again. My heart aches, mind spinning. Until an old woman pushes through the bodies to reach me.
I recognize her face, but it takes a moment to place her.
“Lorraine?”
Her smile is so sincere. Her eyes alight with hope.
“You made it after all! I wasn’t sure in all that mess in the forest.”
I blink. “Yes, we got away for a short time, but then they came and—” I frown, looking around. “Is it just you?” I ask, searching for her husband and son. I know someone died in that forest, but it’s still hard to imagine her joyous expression if her family was lost so recently.
Her smile slips, eyes unfocused as if remembering a dream. “Yes. I—I was the only one blessed to make it this far.”
I swallow.
“You’ll see,” she whispers, arm curled in mine. “We’ll be okay here. We made it this far and we—Well, there is hope here.”
They killed your husband, I want to tell her.
They sliced through him before asking any questions. That is not the kind of saviors I would beg to accept me. They may keeppeople alive in a crumbling world, but some fates are worse than death.
Her breath hitches. She wants to believe so badly.
I too want to believe that there is hope somewhere in the shadows of this place. That despite the pulsing energy that raises the hair on my arms and sends a shudder through my heart, there is something good to be found.
“It’s not—it’s not what I would have chosen,” Lorraine continues, “but they have food and clothing, and they keep their people safe. We just need to be chosen.”
