Page 4 of Property of Necro
Scooping me into his arms, my stomach flutters to the sky as Rot lays me upon the altar like a sacrifice to the gods. When I try to sit up, he pushes my shoulders down. “Rest,” he whispers, moving to light black candles on iron holders nearly as tall as me.
Flat on my back, hands down at my sides, I watch him move from one spot to the next. The flame of each candle casts an eerie glow across the bones, accenting their shadows.
A wooden groan echoes through the space as their president rises from his station. His footfalls grow heavy as they near. At the end of the altar, by my feet, he stops, eyeing me with his ethereal gaze. I shiver, and his head tilts as if fascinated.
Rot finishes lighting the wicks and kneels next to my ear. Looking toward his president, he whispers, “I need you to be quiet. I need you to be still. I need you to endure.”
A surge of alarm ripples through me.
I need you to be…
Quiet.
Still.
Endure.
Why those things?
What am I really doing here?
I open my mouth to ask, but Rot’s warm finger presses there,stalling my words.
His head shakes, and a mop of dark hair falls onto his forehead. “No.”
Right.
I swallow hard, meeting his gentle gaze.
He needs me to be quiet.
“Do you understand?”
I do.
Be quiet. Be still. Endure.
Squeezing my eyes shut, I dip my chin in obedience.
I am the gift.
I am the offering.
I agreed to this.
The words tumble over in my head on repeat.
Flashing me a lopsided smile, Rot kisses my cheek and motions to someone. The same blond man who spoke to his president approaches and produces an enormous steel blade adorned with ruins. Its handle is wrapped in leather. Rot accepts it with a grateful tip of his chin.
“Remember,” he mutters the moment my world descends into darkness as a blindfold is tied around my head.
Quiet.
Still.
Endure.
I will remember.
