Page 127 of The Eyes of Tamburah
It was the first indication that he might be resigned to the idea. “It’s a sacrifice. It’s supposed to hurt.”
* * *
Later that sun jump as she “prepared” for the…ceremony, she kept repeatingit’s a sacrifice, it’s a sacrificein her mind every time doubt or panic threatened. She loved examining old maps and reading historical tablets, so it was a true sacrifice—a point in her favor. Except she didn’t believe The Eyes worked that way. Had Tamburah made the same sacrifice? Remembering his hallways of the dead and those eyeless faces, he’d seemed to be obsessed with eyes. And he had also been insane. Had The Eyes taken his sanity? Or did one need to be unbalanced to wake the power of The Eyes?
Shyla paced circles around her narrow room—there really wasn’t anything to do but wait for everyone to gather. Waiting was difficult. The time allowed her thoughts to go to dark places. It was an effort to focus on the positive.
A leap of faith. She’d decided to do this. The Invisible Sword needed a leader, needed to continue their efforts to help to make changes. There would be lots of work, lots of problems, failures and successes. Besides, the Sun Goddess told her to make the suffering stop. Who was she to argue with a goddess? She was Shyla Sun Kissed, damn it.
Hanif finally arrived to escort her to the chapel. It was big enough to hold the entire population of the monastery and had an altar. A bit dramatic, but if one was to make a sacrifice, one might as well do it on an altar.
All the Invisible Swords and those that planned to join had already gathered. The buzz of conversation died the moment Shyla stepped into the room. A familiar occurrence when she’d lived in Zirdai so it didn’t bother her. They were here as witnesses, but didn’t have to actually watch Ximen cut her eyes out.
Gurice slapped her on the back when Shyla passed by. Mojag pressed against his sister, his face pale. Zhek shot her a nasty look and muttered about the state of her mental health, but he’d reluctantly consented to be on hand in case it didn’t work. The four acolytes who had protected her when she rescued Banqui gave her encouraging smiles and Elek pumped a fist in a you-can-do-this manner.
Rendor hadn’t agreed to attend, but he hadn’t refused either. If he didn’t show, Gurice said she’d be honored to hold Shyla’s hand. However once she reached the altar, Shyla spotted Rendor on the opposite side. Since he wore his fiercest glower and was puffed up with menace, there was a gap around him. She’d never been so happy to see anyone in her life.
Ximen waited nearby, well away from Rendor. He held a small sharp blade. Zhek had lent it to him, claiming it worked best for delicate operations.
Hanif helped her up on the altar. A cushion was already in position. It was one of Zhek’s. He used it to keep a patient’s head and neck immobile. When she lay upon the hard stone, and stared up at the chapel’s ceiling, ice-cold reality set in.
She reached out in panic and Rendor grasped her left hand while Hanif held her right. Their presence steadied her.
“Ready?” Ximen asked in a strained voice.
No. She swallowed. “Yes.”
He gave her what appeared to be a solid leather roll to bite down on—another donation from Zhek––then covered her face and upper chest with a dark red linen cloth—to soak up her blood. A long oval hole had already been cut in the material to expose her eyes. Ximen set The Eyes within easy reach on her chest. Warmth emanated from them, easing the terror. Hanif would use his free hand to place them in her empty socket after…
“All right, let’s proceed.” Ximen leaned over her. He spread her right eyelids wide open with his thumb and finger. They smelled of cleanser.
A glint of light shone in her eye as the knife came into view. Shyla’s grip tightened, squeezing Rendor and Hanif. Hard. Her teeth dug into the leather as her heart protested the entire mad endeavor with violent pounding.
“Stop,” Rendor ordered.
Ximen jerked back.
“Your hand is shaking,” Rendor said.
“It’s not like I do this every sun jump,” Ximen snapped.
Rendor released her hand. “Give me the knife. I’ll do it.”
Ximen’s relief was palpable. They switched places. And Shyla…relaxed.
Resting his hand on her forehead, Rendor leaned close to her. “This is my sacrifice,” he whispered. “Don’t ever ask me to hurt you again. Understand?”
She nodded.
He straightened. “To reduce the pain, this has to go fast,” he said to Hanif. “Be ready with those blasted eyes.”
“All right.” Hanif squeezed her hand.
Rendor drew in a deep breath and let it out slowly. Spreading her right eyelids, he met her gaze. “Go.”
Excruciating pain sliced deep as her vision filled with red. She clenched her teeth and tightened her hold, crushing fingers and not caring.
Stay still.
