Page 63 of Terror at the Gates

“Zahariev?” I lifted my head to look at him, even though it was too dark to make out much of his expression.

“Maybe it isn’t nonsense at all,” he said.

“What are you saying?”

Zahariev’s answer was to brush his fingers through my hair, the way he so often did.

“Nothing,” he said, letting his hand drop, taking his warmth. “Go to sleep, Lilith.”

His voice had changed. He had retreated into his icy shell again. I just didn’t understand why. I shifted closer, trying to regain some of that heat, grateful when his hold tightened, except that I could still feel the distance between us, like our bodies were made up of uneven edges.

We no longer fit together.

***

I dragged my feet over the dusty ground, inching my way through the darkness of the cave. Behind me, the desert roared, mourning the loss of my bones. I could not call this place a shelter. I had traded cutting sand for cutting stones. My body bled. There was something in the air, a scent that smelled slightly sulfuric. I could barely breathe, too afraidto fill my lungs with whatever dark essence haunted these high caverns, yet I kept going.

The air grew colder as I descended. I shook so hard, I felt like the earth was vibrating beneath me. Still I continued, crawling over jagged pillars and squeezing between narrow gaps in the rocky formations that barred my way…to what, I didn’t know.

But there was something here, and it called to me.

Shecalled to me. Her words lingered like cold tendrils of air, shivering down my spine.

Dark mother,

Reverent queen,

Wear your darkness like a shroud.

Make your descent through crimson caves,

Coil at their tangled roots.

Drink sweetly from the grail,

The holy blood, the venom, the ecstasy of night.

Awaken the sacred fire and rise to strike,

Unleash your fury, your eternal wail.

Break these chains, these binding gates.

I took a step and felt something tap my ankle. It was like I’d passed by a branch or twig, or maybe I’d kicked up a rock. I kept walking and felt it again, higher this time. I reached to brush my leg when something latched on to my hand, and a cold, clammy serpent coiled around my arm. I screamed, seizing the creature. Its venomous fangs shredded my skin as I jerked it free and threw it into the dark.

I staggered, holding my arm to my chest, and then sank to the ground, paralyzed by a burning pain that set my blood on fire, shattering everything inside me.

Then I felt the serpent’s fangs sink into my skin again. It had returned, and my pain turned to rage. My fingersbrushed the edge of a nearby rock, and I reached for it. Lifting it over my head, I brought it down upon the serpent, crushing it again and again and again.

It writhed, agonized by each blow, yet I did not stop. I couldn’t. I was no longer tethered to my body but standing outside myself, a spirit who had abandoned humanity.

I put all my strength behind my final strike, and my arms trembled with the impact. I released the rock, letting it remain atop the serpent, and fell back. My breathing came in shallow gasps, perspiration beaded off my body, my arms hurt—all of mehurt.

My vision blurred, and suddenly, the bloody remains of the serpent were gone.

I had taken its place, and embedded deep in my chest was a gold and gleaming blade.

***

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