Page 89 of Sanctifier

“I believe in magic,” Ru said. “I don’t believe in controlling people with it.”

“How quaint,” Lady Bellenet said. Her indulgent tone made Ru’s skin crawl. “But these philosophical conversations, thisnonsenseyou and Hugon have made such a pastime of indulging in…” her lip curled, her honeyed voice souring as she spoke. “It is superfluous. Festra gifted me with this power not to encourage scientific banter between intellectuals. No, he did so knowing I would gather followers to his cause and present them to him in the Great Cleansing. I’ve done as he asked so that all of us mighttravel together to paradise. What you see as control is simply… release from the constraints of an ordinary life. A gift from Festra. Just as his heart was gifted to you, in the knowledge that you would use it to bring a new world to fruition.”

Ru had naively thought that in the face of the truth, Lady Bellenet might crumble. Admit to everything. Fall to her knees, weeping. But Ru now saw that this had been silly, a child’s wish. Lady Bellenet truly believed in Festra — that he had given her these powers, that he wished for her to build a veritable army of Children and then sacrifice them at his altar.

“Why did you bring me here?” Ru asked, brimming with hateful energy and nowhere to spend it. “Punishment?”

Lady Bellenet sighed, and her eyes shone as if she were about to cry. “If you see only punishment, that is what you will receive.”

Ru tasted blood as she gnawed her lip in frustration. “And that means… what?”

The lady smiled almost pityingly. Then she spoke in a bold, resonant voice: “Enter, Lyrren Briar.”

At once, the door swung open, and a tall form entered, his dark brows hung low over questioning eyes. His gaze fell on Ru, and he relaxed slightly at the sight of her.

“Lyr,” she said, the name tumbling thoughtlessly from her lips. “Don’t—”

He shook his head almost imperceptibly, but it was enough to silence Ru. If she said the wrong thing, it would put them both in danger. She couldn’t guess why Lady Bellenet had brought him here, unless…

Ru’s throat constricted.

She studied the King's Guard, intent on memorizing any details she had missed before. There was a tiny white scar on his left cheek. His fingernails were clean, his knuckles cracked and dry. The firelight cast shadows across his face. Ru imaginedhim as he might have been as a youth — gangly and awkward, with large joints and hands and limbs he hadn’t yet grown into. She watched his throat move as he swallowed. A small patch of stubble stood out on his neck where he had missed shaving. He shifted his weight from one foot to the other, a sign that he was uncomfortable or impatient.

“Why is he here?” Ru asked, her own voice sounding far away in her ears.

Lady Bellenet held out her hand to Lyr, the picture of a priestess offering absolution.

“Why is hehere,” Ru said again, her voice breaking on the last word. “Lyr, don’t.”

The lady ignored her. Turning her palm to face upward, her fingers unfurled toward Lyr. A faint light emanated from her hand, and Ru’s heart turned to ice. “Take my hand, Lyrren Briar.”

Ru stepped forward, shaking. “Don’t. Please. I’ll do anything you want.”

“You made that promise once before,” said Lady Bellenet, never taking her eyes from Lyr. Her voice hardened. “And you broke it. You crept through the servants’ corridors, you came to Prayer, and you lied to Hugon. You are not putting your all into the demonstrations, Delara.”

To Ru’s abject horror, Lyr took a step toward the lady’s outstretched fingers. He was already under her sway. Then he lifted his hand, laying his palm upon Lady Bellenet’s.

“Lyr,” Ru cried, her voice cracking. “Stop. Turn around and go.Go!”

He glanced at her, and a glint of some distant understanding passed over his eyes. Ru knew there was nothing she could do to stop this short of murder. Her mind raced. If she could wrench a poker from the fire, rush at Lady Bellenet, and run it through her heart…

“There is no pain where you are going, Lyrren Briar,” said Lady Bellenet, closing her eyes. “There is no end to the beauty and the joy. Revel in Festra’s love. Show Ruellian Delara that there is no reason to continue resisting.”

Ru stumbled backward, hands outstretched behind her toward the fire. She fumbled for the steel poker, the tongs.

“Kneel,” said Lady Bellenet.

Lyr knelt. Lady Bellenet placed a hand on his head.

Ru’s fingers closed around metal. She pulled the poker free with a sliding clang.

Lyr closed his eyes.

Blinding white light erupted from Lady Bellenet like a silent scream. The light cut through Ru like a blade, pure condensed pain, as if a still-blazing star had fallen from the sky.

Just like in the chapel, the radiant burst was a twisting knife in Ru’s temple, a blind shriek of horror. She fell to her knees, the poker clattering to the floor. She closed her eyes in a vain attempt to shut out the light and that terrible vision — Lyr, knelt as if in prayer. Lady Bellenet, blessing him.

It only lasted a moment. The room was as brilliant-white as the core of the sun, and then it wasn’t. Ru opened her eyes, blinking, tears streaming down her face.

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