Part 59

The small white shape leapt from the altar. Thin fingers seized Rinius's right arm even as he brought the blades down.

Red pain exploded as teeth bit into his flesh. His flesh yielded like butter, and the tiny teeth scraped bone before tearing free-

"AAAIIIEE!"

Recoiling, Rinius stabbed at the shape with the knife in his left hand. The shape twisted away before the blade touched it. Rinius flailed, turning after it-

-and realized too late that he now only held one knife.

A line of cold slashed diagonally across his lower abdomen. Robe, skin, and muscle split easily before the preternaturally sharp blade.

"HELP!" Rinius shouted. Only his first syllable has any force behind it. He dropped to his knees, clutching uselessly at the looping pink coils that had been freed from his abdomen. "S-Stop... stop...hi..."

The blossom of pain in his left arm almost went unnoticed, several cuts... and then something else... something worse... merging into one bright spot. When Rinius looked, he saw the bones of his left hand, exposed and dripping at the end of his wrist. Knife, skin, and most of his flesh had been removed as effortlessly as a glove. The boy stared down at him with a face of stone and eyes sharper than the bloody daggers in his hands.

"Wh-what have you done, boy... wh...what hell... what hell have you called f-forth... "

There were still words on Rinius's lips when he collapsed. The boy watched him, then turned toward the crowd.

The motionless assembly of grey-robed townsfolk had shattered. Some were frantically trying to leave, while others stood transfixed by the roiling wall of shadow at the front of the room. Still more were making their way toward the altar. The first of these were only now breaking free of the crowd.

"...save us..." Rinius whispered.

"GET HIM!" Silas Grieves shouted. Several other figures fell in behind him as they darted past the double-row of torches.

"...I... c-call you..." Rinius moaned. His eyes left the charging men. He faced the Black Wall behind the altar. "I..c-call you..."

Eric stood in a low crouch, one blade extended toward them in challenge, the other tucked close and ready.

"Heh..." His eyes flashed. Not fear, but hatred tinged with amusement. He smiled... a twisted mockery of a normal boyish grin.

One of the charging figures faltered, as if seeing the scene for the first time. The boy with the knives. The blood on the blades. Rinius bleeding and mutilated on the floor. The dark doorway still yawning open behind the altar.

The ceremony only half-done.

He turned and ran screaming through the crowd.

"RUN!" He shouted. "WE ARE DAMNED! RUNNN!"

The other two closed on the boy. Silas Grieves and Harper Groll either didn't see the blades, or the mutilated priest... or they didn't care.

"GET THE BOY!" Silas shouted. "FINISH THE SACRIFICE! HONOR AND TRIBUTE!"

The two screaming men... one announcing out their damnation, the other an urgent course of action... broke the remainder of the crowd from their shock. They ran... either forward toward the salvation that demanded the blood of the boy, or toward the already crowded opening that was the chamber's only exit

Meanwhile, Rinius gathered his remaining breath... and used it.

"Cruzithan-" Rinius sighed... "R-Rut-SSSogaaaa..."

The shadowy pool shrieked and exploded outward into the chamber.

Eric leapt at Silas and Harper.

And every torch in the room went out.