Sacrificed: The Permafrost Saga Read online

  This book is dedicated to my husband, who has the patience of a saint.

  Table of Contents

  Before

  1

  2

  3

  4

  5

  6

  7

  8

  9

  10

  11

  12

  13

  14

  15

  16

  17

  18

  19

  20

  Before

  “They’ve forgotten us!” the Fire God roared in anger.

  "You have one of the largest kingdoms, your Majesty. No one has forgotten you," the God of Time complained.

  “Your Majesty, being angry never solved anything,” the water goddess tried to sooth him from the opposite side of the table.

  “Speak for yourself, Queen Eira, you’re more destructive in happiness than I’ll ever be in anger,” he spit back.

  “Please, King Kiran, try to control your temper,” the God of Time ordered with a calm voice. “Perhaps it’s time to accept that the humans are moving on. If we help guide them, they may come back to us.”

  King Kiran was not appeased by this. He glowered at the gods and goddesses around him and looked into each of their eyes. In them, he could see who was with him and who was not. He wasn’t the only one who felt neglected, so he was going to do what he must to end his suffering.

  “See reason,” Queen Eira, the Water Goddess agreed. “They are fragile beings. Who knows what they will do if you stir them up. The God of Time is right- we must wait.”

  “You cannot interfere in my plans, Queen Eira, and you cannot warn them,” he reminded her of the laws. They each have their own kingdom in their world- King and Queen of each. Interfering with another god or goddess’ business would mean war. “If I stir them up, then the prophecy may be activated. It’s time. I’m finished waiting, I don’t have the patience for it.” No one argued that. “The longer I wait, the further they stray from it. It’s been three-thousand years too long.”

  “So you’ve identified her,” The Water Goddess asked with a knowing voice.

  The Fire God snapped his mouth shut, not wanting to give her too much information. She had her talons in his affairs too many times to count. She had more spies than he did, but a young, beautiful face flashed before his eyes. He pushed it away. His mother, the Goddess of Life, was in the room and he didn’t want her to read his mind.

  He was surrounded by enemies.

  The room stayed silent.

  “We beg you not to kill anyone,” Queen Eira pleaded when she saw he wasn’t going to answer her question. “They have feared us in the past, and we wish for them to never have to in the future.”

  He eyed her with contempt. As the opposite of him in every way, she has never agreed with him once. Her violet eyes narrowed at him and he felt an icy shiver run up his spine. He has never feared her, but she does pose a threat to his heat; however, even she has never been able to cool his temper. He cannot deny that her image was powerful. Her silver hair shone like an iceberg in the sunshine and fell over her shoulders in pin-straight locks. A crown of icicles stuck up through her roots like sun rays beaming through breaks in a cloudy sky. Her long, black eyelashes reached her eyebrows, making her violet eyes appear to be three times their real size. He wondered what cosmetic she applied on them because there’s no way they were natural.

  Still on his feet, his crimson robes brushed the tops of his feet as he shifted his weight. “I will not be soft,” he insisted, slamming a fist onto the table. “You say to be patient. You’ve been saying that for too long. Now is not the time to be soft. Now is the time to be sharp.”

  Again, the room was silent, and he wondered if they fear speaking out and being lashed by his tongue.

  He glanced out the only window in the council room to see the horizon turning pink, the sun beginning to peak over the mountains.

  “I’m out of time,” he groaned in disappointment. He sat through hours of meaningless garble, and as soon as he could speak, they had squandered his moment. He had planned to tell them so much more, to make his case unarguable. He needed to prepare them better for what he was about to do. “Just...be ready.”

  A hand fell gently onto his forearm and he saw the Goddess of Death, look up at him, her frail body not strong enough to stand. “The prophecy may not be what you think. It speaks of a girl of mixed blood. We cannot go to earth, and they cannot come here. There’s no way either of us could survive the journey; unless you’re summoned, which never happens. Believe me, I know.”

  King Kiran pierced his lips into a thin line. The hideous goddess speaks the truth. He’s thought of that over the past several millennia, but he’s done living in fear.

  “Be ready,” he told them as he left the room, his robes sweeping the floor behind him. “The first fire will be tomorrow night!”

  1

  “Excuse me?”

  “It will pay twenty an hour for the whole summer,” the male voice said on the other side of the receiver.

  Her hart palpitated. “T-twenty?” her voice came out in disbelief.

  “That is correct, Ms. Daniels. Our parents are more than willing to pay that, especially with your grades. Additionally, we’ll pay you time and a half for assisting our Letchen Combat instructor for a couple of nights a week.”

  She quickly did the mental math. “That’s thirty! Sir, are you for real?” she asked baffled.

  “As a King Kiran temple maiden, we know you’re a very skilled Letchen practitioner. Your expertise will be incredibly valuable to our students.”

  She cringed at the mention of her formal title- it’s a good thing he could not see her grimace on this end.

  “What do you say, Ms. Daniels?” he prompted.

  The words got stuck in her throat. There were many reasons why she should say no, but the money was too enticing. It would take a chunk out of her college expenses. “I don’t have car,” she blurted out in a moment of nervousness.

  The man chuckled. “That’s no problem. We’ll provide your lodging. Since you’ll be attending the fall semester, we’ll move you into your dorm now. All the classrooms are within walking distance; you will not need a car.”

  There went most of her excuses not to do it. Although she couldn’t ignore the knot in her stomach that tightened when she thought of leaving home so soon. She was looking forward to a relaxing, summer off away from her classmates, homework, and tests. Then there was the matter of her parents. What would they think of this opportunity?

  “Could you give me until Monday to decide? We’re in the middle of our fire festival right now,” she explained as best as she could. She wasn’t sure if a man from a Queen Eira city would understand King Kiran traditions.

  “Monday by noon,” he negotiated.

  “Yes, sir.”

  “I apologize for interrupting your festivities. I look forward to hearing from you.”

  “Have a good night, Mr. Nagel.”

  “You do the same, Ms. Daniels.”

  She ended the call on her outdated smart phone and gave it an excited squeeze. She had planned to relax and enjoy the summer- responsibility free- but this was good, she told herself. She could get adjusted before all the college students flood the campus, instead of getting lost in the fray.

  Looking outside, she saw the sun sinking down under the mountain peaks. The height of the was festival is about to begin, and her absence would be noticed.

  Exiting the front of the temple that also doubled as her home, she maneuvered between the visitors as she made her way down the front path. She passed between the two braziers; he
r mind is buzzing with worry and excitement. She tried pushing the thoughts away, but hey still nagged at her. She reminded herself that she had other things to be nervous about tonight.

  She pulled open the back of one of the braziers and scooped in a couple shovels worth of black coal chunks. Doing the same for the other, she noticed that there weren't as many visitors on this side of the temple. In the quiet, she reflected on her task- this had been her chore since she was very young. As a forgetful person, sometimes she missed feedings, but she found that even if the fires ran out of coal, they would continue to blaze. It frightened her early on, but it’s become so normal to her now, that she’s become numb to the idea that it's simply fire. They were alive. They danced in front of her, and they crackled and popped as if encouraging her to speak her mind.

  “I can’t stay long,” she told them, and the flames seemed to flicker towards her. She smiled. “I have a lot on my mind tonight. Besides the obvious, I was given a job offer and I’m trying to decide if I want to uproot my entire summer to go somewhere new, with new people, and learn a new role.”

  The fire popped softly, throwing a couple sparks into the night air.

  “My parents might not let me go since it doesn’t line up with what’s expected of me, but you know me. I want to learn more. I told you about my college, didn’t I? In Watercrest? What do you think? Have I made the right choice?”

  The fire staid relatively still.

  She sighed. “Right. What would the King do? I’m sure he’s wise behind all that anger. What do you think? Could he come all the way here to help me? Can the gods cross into our world? Or can only their powers do that?” she jested.

  The fire seemed to sizzle, a sound that sent chills through her body. It had never made that sound before.

  The sounds from the festival down the slope of the hill picked up with the merriment growing, reminding her that she had someplace to be, a role to play.

  “See you later,” she told the fires over her shoulder as she took off down the hill. She ripped her shoes off between steps and ran barefoot into the thick of the celebration. Pop up tents and stands lined the formally empty field. The mountains surrounding the location were now hidden in darkness, their silhouette outlined by a clear, star-filled sky. The tents and stands were lit up by lights, lamps, and ceremonial fires. The biggest fire was at the entrance, and she dumped her shoes into it as a sacrifice to King Kiran: God of Fire as she ran by. They were her only pair.

  All of her former classmates were there. She saw their joyful faces as she darted past them, but she tried not to pay them any mind. She was getting nervous as it was.

  The largest tent- the performance tent- was positioned at the back corner of the field, and was constructed of large timber poles, thick ropes, and heavy maroon tapestries. She ducked her way in through the back flap and was immediately assaulted by her mother's angry tone.

  "Burning hells, Demi! Where have you been?" she demanded of her daughter. Demi saw that she was already dressed and ready to go.

  She tried not to look guilty. "Mr. Nagel called me from Watercrest University."

  She blinked in surprise. "What did he have to say?"

  "Tell you later," Demi promised her mother while trying to pull her arms through her costume's sleeves.

  Her dad came into the dressing room dressed in his period robes; crown placed on his bald head. "Easy on that dress!" he snapped at her. "Honestly, Demi. You know how old they are."

  She rolled her eyes. Older than her by centuries. She knew.

  "You have a few minutes," her mother reminded her, “fix your hair and makeup."

  She nodded in response and sat down at the small vanity as soon as they left the room. Honestly, she wasn’t five anymore.

  This was her third year playing her character. Before she was old enough, her cousin from Arizona would fly in to do it. Demi remembers her sun kissed skin and dark hair and how all the teenage boys in the county would flock to the festival to see her. They would count it as a personal triumph if they got to talk to her. What they didn't know was that she was fake down to her eyelashes and press on nails. She went on to graduate and then flunk out of her first year of college. According to Facebook, she went onto running a drill for a construction company.

  Demi fixed her eyeliner and added on more depth to her shadow, adding glitter and highlighter to the inside corners and brow line. Then she slapped on a thick layer of lash primer and finally mascara. She decided to add some blush and contour just because she’ll be on stage.

  She peeked through the curtains to see inside the rest of the performance tent and noticed the audience. She saw that it wasn’t as full as it used to be. There was a time when she was little that people would have to stand in the back because the benches were full. Even though everyone in town was there, as they were every year, there were empty seats. She saw few unfamiliar faces too, but that didn’t surprise her. People come from all over to see King Kiran's fire festival, just not as many as there used to be.

  Her parents were in top performance mode, playing King Ozaane, the Sun God, and Queen Evie, the Goddess of Life.

  "Give him back to me!" her mother bellowed in Queen Evie's character.

  "He is my heir, Wife! My first-born son, the master of fire! He needs to learn how to control his power, or the world will be engulfed in flames with each tantrum," the Sun God, played by her father, tried to reason with his hysterical bride.

  "He's fresh out of my womb! See reason! He is hungry," she threw herself to his feet and pulls at the hem of his robes.

  Her heart beat harder as the minutes ticked closer to her character's entrance. The candles that light the stage flickered angrily to the story as it unfolded.

  "He will not parish from starvation, silly woman. He is a god!" with that, he held the bundle in his arms tighter and stomped off the stage, leaving the queen crying in grief and anger alone at center stage.

  "I gave my son the breath of life at the moment he came into the world, and in the same instant, he was torn from my embrace," she wept. "Why does my heart feel as though it's been ripped to shreds? How can life go on after this?" She grew silent, her face morphing from sadness to anger. "Why should I suffer and not King Ozaane? Why should he get to bond with our son while I’m left to grieve his loss?" Her voice grew in volume and anger as she continued. She picked herself off the floor and grounded herself with a solid stance and extended her hands out, her fingers spread wide. "If I must suffer, then so shall he!" She went quiet and closed her eyes in concentration. Everyone in the audience knew that the Goddess of Life can see into a specific person's life events- who they'll fall in love with, who they'll marry, if they'll be happy, if they have children, what occupation they'll hold. Everything. And during that point in history, she was looking into her son’s future.

  Movement in the front row caught Demi’s attention and she noticed a man in the front row. His expression was hollow, shadows deepening the contours of his face. His amber eyes burnt into the character her mother portrayed, and Demi got a chilling feeling that he knew what it felt like to be betrayed by a parent. Before she had time to wonder why, however, her mother continued with her lines.

  "Forgive me, my son," she whispered sadly, “you will surely suffer, but do not fear, for I will give you a way out."

  Her father came back out onto the stage, this time dressed in different robes and wearing a different crown. He came back not as the Sun God, but as the God of Fire- the sun emblem on his robes had been replaced by King Kiran’s signature flame. He stood to the side alone, sulking and pouting his way into a rage.

  "You will live lonely on your throne for thousands of years, for while the sun is shining you shall be a scaled beast with wings like large sails. You will fester in anger and resentment over thoughts of parents who surely don't love you since they cursed you. There will come a time when your patience comes to a breaking point, and you will unleash your vengeance on both worlds. They shall drown in your fire.
"

  It was time for her to step out onto the stage, and her heart pounded loudly in her ears as she took a shaky deep breath. She gripped her letch until her knuckles turn white. Approaching her father on the stage, she began to raise her weapon.

  "A girl with tainted blood will step forward," her mother's voice rang out, “a woman capable of sating your outrage, who will give up everything she has and is for you. She is the only one who can break your curse and allow life to thrive again in both worlds." She fell to her knees in exhaustion just as her father swung his blade in a violent arch, aimed for her. Demi stepped forward and stop it with her own, their blades clashed violently.

  The audience's attention went onto her and her father, her skin grew hot under their eyes. They circled each other; their eyes locked in challenge. Her father's blade pointed straight at her, the curved tip angled up towards the ceiling in a sharp hook. She did the same and they crashed together into a rehearsed battle. Normally Letchen Combat is more vigorous, more violent, but as a performance, the fight they performed is more like a dance.

  "You do not know me," she began her line, speaking to the character her father portrays, “and I do not know you. In anger you attack me- blinded by rage."

  They were light on their feet, bouncing from the right and to the left, their weapons swinging in large arches, trying to hook the opposing blade to theirs in order to wretch it from their hands.

  "You do not see me or what I will bring you," she continued. "You choose not to open your heart to love or to let go of control."

  She worked up a sweat under her dress' numerous yards of fabric, the nerves, and the candle’s heat that light the stage. They continued through their steps, now over halfway finished. Sweat trickled down her forehead- the heat around them intensifying. Her father started to pant, beads of sweat running like rivers down his face. They both tried to suck in air, but it burned their throats. They continued the performance, focusing on their forms. She watched him miss a step in his footwork and he lost his balance. In an attempt to catch him, she bounced on her right foot and pushed back, swinging her weight against him and he found his footing in time to catch himself.