Sacrificed: The Permafrost Saga Page 2

  A scream pierced the quiet tent.

  They came to a complete stop- cutting their performance short to look around for the source of terror. They found the curtains surrounding the stage caught in a blaze of fire. The audience was screaming, trying to vacate the tent in a craze. They looked like angry bees zooming this way and that, making quite the uproar. Demi was dazed, frozen on stage, trying to figure out what could have caused the fire. She looked at the obvious answer and inspects each stage candle with a quick glance but didn't notice anything out of the ordinary. They all looked innocent- no melted wax where it shouldn't be, the curtains were far from them, and no one was close enough to the stage to touch them. Besides, the curtain was treated with a chemical to fireproof them.

  Urgently, her father's fingers dug into her forearm as he grabbed her and pulled her off stage before the flaming curtain came crashing down. From backstage, she watched the canvas walls catch fire and spread. Her dad continued to pull her away, but she wanted to know how it happened. There had to be some answer on that stage! The harder she fought, the harder he pulled on her arm, and eventually she was outside watching the performance tent- the tent she helped set up and tear down every year ever since she could remember- cave in on itself, the fire throwing black smoke against the star filled sky.

  There was screaming all around her, but she could barely hear it. She couldn’t feel anything as she watched the smoke climb up into the air. There were tears falling down her face, and she wondered if she should be feeling sad rather than this bleak numbness. Her father hugged her tightly to him and moments later she could feel her mother's arms wrap around both of them. They wept together as they watched their life burn down. People pushed and shoved around them, but they stayed rooted in place, not understanding what had happened or what to do next.

  They heard sirens moments later, but they didn’t break apart when the blaring fire engines rolled up. The fire men immediately got to work, and soon they were watching a well-organized team work together to douse the tent with hoses of spraying water. The heat of the fire subsided as the water was hosed over it, and the spray combined with the night air chilled her. Goose pimples broke over her entire body, causing her to shiver and run her hands up and down her arms to chase it away with some friction. It did next to nothing.

  "You need to go up to the temple," her mother told her sternly. "We can sort this out and stay here with the fire fighters."

  She nodded, already growing anxious being in the midst of all the chaos.

  "Demi," her father says in question. "Where are your shoes?" She noticed that he was looking straight down at her feet.

  "Uh…"

  "Did you give them as an offering?" her mother's voice had an edge of anger to it. "Again?"

  Her father let out a heavy breath of frustration. "I guess I'm taking a trip into town when the store opens to get you some new shoes."

  "Just make sure you get the right ones. You know, with the black and white stripes on the side of the soles-" she tried to remind him, but her mother cut her off.

  "Why not give something of value? Old shoes aren't going to impress King Kiran."

  Her father's eyes went wide as a thought hit him, and his voice was sharp when he yelled, "You could have made him angry! This fire could have been his punishment."

  "So, this is my fault?" she choked out, the numbness slowly being replaced with anger and a feeling of betrayal.

  "For all we know, it could be! You know he has spies that watch us," her mother backed up her father. She whispered, "He may know that you have doubt of his legitimacy."

  "Mom!"

  "Why else would you chose to go to a Queen Eira school?" she hissed.

  Demi shook herself from them. She didn’t feel the need to explain the logical reasons why she chose Watercrest over Everflame. "You know why," she snaped instead.

  "Your ‘major’ should be here, learning how to take over the temple! Your mother and I still have a lot to teach you," her father was enraged.

  Demi couldn’t take this anymore. She ran. The temple was positioned at the top of the hill, but the climb didn’t wind her, not with all the physical activity that was demanded of her. She reached the top within moments and headed to the back of the building where no one would be able to see her. There, in the tall grass next to the pond, she collapsed onto her back and gazed at the night sky.

  Her mind was racing, but there was one thing she was sure about: she was going. She will technically be an adult in a few months, so there was no logical reason why she should stay, and even though she loved her family, there was no telling when they'd come at her again to point blame at. The fire was not her fault. She treated those curtains the same way she has since she was eight. If her parents switched the product, well, that was their fault. If it was about her old shoes, King Kiran had more important things to be angry about. Besides, what else could have qualified as a real sacrifice? They were her only pair. How many of her classmates gave something they don't already have multiples of?

  And she did not dislike the King. Well, not totally. She didn’t particularly like his temper and the fear it instilled in people, but she did admire the inspiration he ignited. Without it, she wouldn't live in a beautiful temple full of elaborate statues, tapestries, and mosaics. Fire is beautiful and full of life. Beauty, like her cousin, can appear innocent and good, but it can also be a fallacy, a danger. The Fire God could go into a fit of rage over the simplest things, but not over her. She was too insignificant for that. What was she compared to a powerful god?

  A warm summer breeze blew over her and rustled the long grass. For it only being the end of May, it was unusually warm. There was no chill to the wind here- especially since she was away from the fire truck spray- despite the sun having set. A weed bounced over her head; the flower head closed for the night. She reached up to touch it, to gently flick it with the pad of her finger to watch it bounce some more, but as soon as her skin connected with the soft petals, it was suddenly encased in a thin layer of ice.

  A shiver ran up her spine.

  Shocked, she sat straight up, looking intently at the flower in question. Her eyes were blown wide, but there was no explanation on what could have caused something to freeze it with the weather being so warm.

  The phone in her pocket vibrated and she reached through all the folds of her dress to retrieve it. Pulling it out, she noticed it was Thomas, her best friend, calling her.

  "Hello?" she answered.

  "Are you okay? One moment I saw you with your parents and the next, you vanished." She could feel the fear in his voice.

  "I'm fine. I went up to the temple. They decided to blame me for the fire and well, I just had to get away. I'm sorry for alarming you."

  He exhaled in relief. "Seriously, you cannot do that to me! Send me a text next time, will ya?"

  "Next time?"

  "Wait, you said they blamed you? Your parents?"

  She sighed into the receiver. "I'll give you all the details tomorrow."

  "Do you want me to stay with you?"

  "No. I…have some stuff to figure out. I'll tell you tomorrow," she promised.

  "That would be nice. Answer your phone when I call!"

  "Yes, Mom."

  "I can hear you rolling your eyes!" he chided her.

  "Oh, you cannot!"

  "You know I can. Bye."

  "Yeah." She hung up, picked herself up from the ground, and looked down at the flower. It appeared normal, as if she had imagined the whole thing. Did she?

  After the night she had, anything was possible. She headed inside to go to bed. It was far too late.

  2

  When she woke up, it was Sunday morning, and a sound assaulted her ears. In her bedroom, nestled into the sheets of her soft bed, she was warm and comfortable, but the voices outside were so muffled that it sounded like a mosquito in her ear. Annoyed, she pulled her pillow out from under her head and slammed it over her ears in an attempt for quiet. Trying to fal
l back asleep, she willed her muscles to relax.

  Slowly, thoughts sunk into her consciousness. At first, she wondered why there were so many people at the temple in the morning, and then it occurred to her that they were there for the Sunrise Ceremony.

  Where were her parents? Did they come back at all last night?

  With utter reluctance, she peeled herself from her bed and swung her feet to the floor where her slippers waited for her somewhere. She spotted them at haphazard locations amongst her scattering of clothing on the floor. The stone was freezing under her bare feet and it sent a shock through her tired body. She grabbed a towel on her way to the bathroom.

  Her morning routine was not time consuming, but she decided to take more care with her image that morning. She assumed that her parents would honor all the traditions despite the fire the night before. After her steaming shower, she climbed out and wrapped her towel around her hair and stands in front of the sink to brush her teeth and apply some makeup. Opting to keep things as simple as she could, she decided to only do eye makeup.

  She dressed in her bedroom. The worn faded black skinny jeans she pulled on were located on the floor beside her bed. She chose a folded tank top from her dresser and then completed her outfit with an open button up flannel. Her hair was still wet, so she scrunched it with some product. Satisfied, she made her way to the kitchen for some breakfast.

  Her parent's voices reached her as she approached and was just able to make out that the tent was completely ruined in last night's fire, but that thankfully no one was hurt.

  "Good morning, Sunshine," her mother greeted her when she rounded the doorframe. She looked tired, Demi noticed, by the way she held her shoulders. Hunched over with her hands on the counter for support, her mother took a deep breath before turning to make Demi her breakfast.

  "I can get it, Mom. Sit down. You look awful," she told her.

  "Well thanks, Demi," she replied sarcastically and takes a seat in one of the high stools that surrounded their kitchen island.

  Demi noticed the clock on the oven reads six-thirty and groaned internally. When was the last time she was awake at this hour? Was the sun even up yet? She popped some bread in the toaster and threw down the lever, then turned to the fridge to pour herself some orange juice. The toaster popped up as soon as she returned the juice to the fridge, so grabbed the jelly. Once she had everything gathered, she joined her mother at the island.

  She took a couple of bites.

  "I'll feed the fires for you this morning," her dad said from the stool beside her, "it'll be on my way out because, you know, I have to go buy you shoes."

  Here we go, she thought. "It doesn't have anything to do with the Sunrise Ceremony?" she wondered, acid clearly in her voice, knowing the traditions as well as she knew herself.

  Her father gave her a pointed look.

  "Just make sure you get the right ones," she continued with the attitude of a seventeen-year-old. "They have flat soles with the black and white striping- you know." She took a big swig from her cup.

  "Burning hells, it’s like you don't care! Not only did you set us back by torching your shoes, but you made King Kiran mad enough to set our tent on fire."

  Well…. She rolled her eyes. How could she even start explaining herself to them? King Kiran was not angry with her. There were bigger things for him to be angry about. Besides, she fed his fires every day and talked to them like friends. How could he be angry with her- if he even knew she existed?

  He got up without saying anything else and left the apartment. The two women sat in awkward silence for a couple of long seconds. Demi took a bite of her toast; the sound was far too loud in the quiet that drug between them.

  Her mother couldn’t take it anymore. "So, what did the Dean want?"

  Demi swallowed another bite of toast. She cleared her throat and told her everything, including her intention to take the job.

  "We talked about this," her mother objected with her eyes closed, her head bowed into her hands which are placed in a triangle on the countertop. "If you go to that college, we're not paying for it."

  "All the more reason to take the job," she snapped back, her scalp crawling and heart rate increasing. "This is a huge opportunity for me. I thought you'd be proud of my success."

  She sighed, picking her head up to look at Demi's disappointed expression. "Of course, I am! I just don't like this path, Sunshine. You're meant to take over the temple after us. Who else can we rely on? What will people say when they learn of this?"

  "So, don’t tell them. I won’t say anything. And you always have Heidi, I'm sure," she suggested, lightening the mood.

  Her mom chuckled. "Your cousin is perfect where she currently is. We don't need to stress any remaining brain cells she may have left."

  Demi laughed. "Thomas would love it. Remember how he used to drool over her?" she took a big bite of her toast and washed it down with another mouthful of juice.

  "Like it was yesterday," she paused, watching Demi enjoy her breakfast. "Tell me you'll think about it more."

  "Why? It seems like a no brainer to me." She drained her cup and placed it back on the table, and when her fingers pulled away, the cup was frosty.

  "How dare you speak to me like that, Demetria Ray! I am your mother!"

  She eyed her cup suspiciously, wondering if this could be related to the incident from last night. Condensation doesn't freeze on the outside of glasses, not unless it's been in the freezer, and she knew for a fact that she pulled the glass out of the cupboard like she always has. Was the juice just insanely cold? Wouldn't she have noticed if it were?

  Her mother's eyebrows drew together, and her mouth turned down. Demi’s attention snapped back to her, and instantly knew that she needed to back away slowly and hide out in her room for a while. She sensed that this discussion was over, and she was not going to get anywhere with her mother when she was like this, so she retreated to her room and shut herself inside.

  ~~~

  "I hear the temple is busy today," Thomas told her over the phone.

  "Is it? I haven't looked yet, but I can hear them. They woke me up this morning at six. Who gets up that early to visit a temple?"

  "People like to see your dad perform the Sun Ceremonies," he said her with sincerity. "People come all over for it. You know that."

  "It's still too early."

  He chuckled, "Maybe for you. What are your other plans for today?"

  "I don't know. Probably read. You?" she wondered.

  "I'll be out later to watch the Sunset Ceremony, but I suppose it'll be busier."

  "Always is," she complained. Will I get any rest tonight? She wondered.

  "Will you at least make an appearance today? I'm sure people are worried about you and your family after yesterday and you're the temple maiden. They treasure you. You should at least show them you're in one piece," he advised with his "big brother" voice.

  "I don't know; I'd have to put on the whole dress and do the whole graceful, perfect thing. It sounds exhausting."

  "Why is it that everything you do is a chore?" he teased.

  "Because it kind of is." She sighed, knowing he could sense her smile.

  "I could come over and hang, make sure you eat and all that between chapters," he offered.

  "That's okay. When will you be here?"

  "Eight tonight?"

  "Okay."

  "Alright. See you then," he said before hanging up.

  She pressed the power button on the side of the phone to make the screen go dark and then she slipped it into her back pocket. Grabbing the book she'd been reading from her bedside table, she headed for her reading nook. She wasn’t even sure her parents know of her secret hide away. She discovered it when she was about seven, she thinks, when she saw a loose board in her ceiling paneling. Back then, she grabbed a flashlight and climbed up, making sure she could see what she was crawling into first, of course. Inside, she found rafters that climbed in a zigzag fashion up and up for sev
eral stories. Excited to see what was up there, she climbed them until she reached the top, where she found a dead end with a hatch. On the other side was a round room surrounded by windows- a watchtower. She didn't even know it was there since it can’t be seen from the front of the temple. The forest hid it, and from its location at the back, the angle of the temple shielded it from view. Inside, the entire mountainside and the valley below can be seen through its widows. She adopted the space immediately, stocking it with cushions, pillows, blankets, and lighting- she had to run a couple extension cords from her bedroom. She even fashioned herself a lift with a swing and a long rope that she fed through a pulley system on the top rafter. All she had to do is sit down and pull herself up with the opposing rope.

  Once she made her way up, she tucked into her cushions and opened up to the chapter she ended on and began to read, but no matter how much she tried to loose herself to the story, she couldn’t stop worrying about what happened to the flower the night before. She set her book down so she could process what it could have been.

  Maybe if she tried googling it. She pulled out her phone and searched for “ice powers”, only for it to show her titles of fiction books. After looking through the fourth page of search results, she tried a different phrase. She typed in “ice mythology”, but again, she didn’t find anything concrete. Perhaps a different search engine would give her better results.

  The breeze filtered through the open windows, the sun shining into the curtain-less room, and the birds sang merrily outside. She sighed in contentment as she fell down a rabbit hole, loving her space and the view outside.

  Hours later she had the sudden urge to pee. She checked her phone and found that it was almost seven o'clock, so she quickly descended from her watchtower and entered the real world where mothers thought kids made poor choices and dads thought they don't think things through. After using the restroom, she padded quietly to her room.