As they approached the broad double doors of the barn, faces peeked out through small windows. The doors opened slowly as they neared.
Within the barn, it was warm as springtime. The room was full of candles that lined the walls and sat along the rafters. They flickered from the breeze of the opening door.
Near the rear of the barn there was a large pedestal built of bales of hay covered with a bleached canvas that might have once served as the sail of a ship. The only people in the room were a score of young women Colobi's age. All wore white robes and knelt around the canvas platform, their heads bowed, as if praying to some unseen deity.
Colobi came to a halt before the platform. She grasped Anza's right hand and looked into her eyes.
"You haven't said a word since I pulled you out of the river," she said. "I know this is overwhelming. You'll soon understand. You'll be one of us."
As Colobi spoke, the hairs on the back of Anza's neck began to rise. She detected a hint of ozone in the air, the same odor that she'd smelled when Jandra had struck her bracelet against the stone to turn them invisible. Fixing her gaze upon the canvas platform, she couldn't help but sense that there was some giant entity before her, despite the testimony of her own eyes that she was looking at empty air. Her pulse quickened and her fingers fell to the steel tomahawks at her hips.
"You're nervous," said Colobi, placing her fingers on her arm. "There's no need for fear. Everything will be made apparent when the healer arrives."
In response to these words, the air on the platform began to shimmer. Suddenly, a huge dome of sparks covered the canvas, a million small flares bursting into existence before fading almost instantly. In their wake, a sun-dragon was revealed sitting upon the platform.
Unlike most sun-dragons, this one possessed scales of pure black, as smooth and dark as the surface of a lake on a moonless, windless night. His eyes were green as jade as he peered at Anza. A silver halo hovered a few inches above his forehead, glowing faintly.
The sun-dragon looked toward Colobi and said, "Faithful one, you need not wait for my arrival. In truth, I am with you always."
As one, the kneeling women help up their arms, with outstretched palms, and said in a single voice, "Welcome, oh merciful healer!"
Anza let the quilt that warmed her slip to the ground, revealing the tomahawks in her grasp. She only knew of one sun-dragon with a black hide. But… he was dead. Jandra said Bitterwood had killed him. This couldn't possibly be the Murder God, could it?
As if in answer, the chorus of women spoke again. "Hail, oh beloved Blasphet!"
CHAPTER NINETEEN:
BRAIN-DAMAGED FREAK WITH A VIOLENT STREAK
Beat one: Anza inhaled deeply as she pushed all distractions from her mind. The ice in her bones, the weakness of her legs, and the pain of the burn mark on her breast were blocked out as she twirled the twin steel tomahawks around her fingers.
Beat two: Her eyes narrowed, turning the world into a tunnel. At the end of that tunnel was Blasphet's throat. His trachea slid beneath the smooth onyx scales of his neck. His jugular vein, thick as a man's thumb, would run directly beside this.
Beat three: Anza danced forward, swinging both tomahawks around in a graceful arc. Using the full momentum of her body, she released the left tomahawk, holding the right in reserve in case she needed a second shot. She wouldn't. The small, finely balanced hatchet spun almost lazily through the air in her hyper-aware state. The axe edge hit Blasphet's hide and sank into it.
His serpentine neck jerked as blood gushed from the wound.
Anza knew she'd just killed Blasphet. Unfortunately, it might take the giant beast a moment before he'd lost enough blood to realize it.
She stood before him, blinking off her tunnel vision, cataloging the gauntlet of potential dangers around her. The Sisters of the Serpent were numerous, but none were armed, and they looked stunned by Anza's action.
Behind Blasphet, there was a sky-dragon who glowered at her. This dragon, too, was unarmed but that didn't mean he wasn't a threat. The dragon spread its wings, revealing diamond studs within the folds of skin there. As he moved, silvery dust fell from his fore-talons. Anza blinked. In the span of that blink, the sky-dragon vanished.
She'd spared as much time as she could surveying the room. She was ready to make her retreat, once she dodged Blasphet's counter attack. She focused on the Murder God, anticipating that his huge jaws would be shooting toward her any second.
Instead, Blasphet reared up, his head nearly brushing the high rafters of the barn. He didn't look angry or frightened. Instead, he gazed at her with eyes filled with pity. His fore-talon moved to his throat and pulled the tomahawk free, letting it drop. Splashes of red dappled the canvas he stood upon.
Whatever the cause of the delay, Anza decided to exploit it. She spun, bolting for the door. She didn't make it even a yard before Colobi jumped on her back. She hit the ground hard as Colobi fell on top of her. The white-robed woman straddled Anza's hips, pinning her.
"Defiler!" Colobi shrieked as she closed her hands around Anza's windpipe. "This is how you repay our kindness?" She squeezed with all her might.
The battle gears in Anza's mind clicked forward a notch. Colobi's choking attack was a reasonable one for unarmed combat. Under the present battle conditions, however, it possessed a rather serious flaw. Anza swung her remaining tomahawk, driving the blade several inches into Colobi's forehead. The young woman's eyes rolled upward until only white showed, and she fell.
Anza pushed the corpse aside, freeing her tomahawk with a slurp. She rolled to her hands and knees and looked up.
If not for her ordeal in the river, she might have stood a chance. The remaining Sisters of the Serpent fell upon her like a wave. Anza swung her hatchet, but it was too late. A trio of women caught her arm, pressing it down, tearing the tomahawk loose. Another woman wrapped her arms around Anza's waist and pushed her once more to the ground. A dozen hands grabbed her legs. More hands grasped her right arm, pinning that limb to the straw-covered floor.
Anza arched her back, wriggling, trying to kick free, but for every hand she knocked loose, four more seized her. In seconds she was pinned, immobile, spread-eagle on the ground as the dark form of Blasphet loomed above her.
Blasphet had his fore-talon pressed against his throat. When he pulled his gore-wet claws away, blood no longer squirted from the wound. The blood on his claws and neck faded, absorbed into his dark hide. The wound was no longer visible.
The black beast stared at Anza, his brow furrowed.
He ran his claws along his chest. The scales of his breast were malformed, no doubt due to the poisons that ran within his blood. The scales were bunched up, looking more like fat ticks than the smooth overlapping plates of a serpent. He plucked one of the scale polyps free and handed it to the woman who sat on Anza's chest.
"Feed this to her," he said.
Anza clenched her jaws. One sister pinched her nose shut. Another clawed at Anza's lips, sinking her nails into the gums beneath. Anza fought the pressure until she trembled, but it was of no use. Slowly, her jaws were pried open. One of her own knives was placed between her teeth to keep them from closing. A woman's fingers flickered against her tongue, pushing the seed-like scale toward the back of her throat.
A jug carried by one of the women was held over her head. A stream of water poured into her open mouth. Suddenly the knife was pulled free and her jaws were forced shut. She closed her eyes, fighting to the urge to breathe. Against her will, Anza swallowed.