Page 17 of Solivagant

9

JEREMIAH

I screamed. I fought. I begged.

It didn’t matter.

They were angry. What had happened was my fault, and they’d already decided on the punishment for my crimes.

“You’re making a mistake,” I sobbed as stone met my back.

They couldn’t do this. I couldn’t let them. My guilt aside, if they did this, there was only one outcome when Khorli found out. It wouldn’t be the one they were hoping for.

“Please, listen to me. I’m sorry. I will leave and they won’t bother you again. I’ll make sure of it.”

“Silence, sinner,” Abraham sneered, taking my wrists and yanking them above my head.

I cried in pain. “Please, you don’t understand. If you⁠—”

“You are the one who doesn’t understand, Jeremiah,” Grace interrupted. “We have rules for a reason, and you broke them. The Others have punished us. All because of you.”

“It’s more complicated than that. Please, just give me a chance to explain.”

“Silence him,” said another voice.

Desperation had me thrashing against the hands that held me down. “No! Khorli!” I screamed.

He had to come. I couldn’t get out of this on my own.

He’d said he would come.

“Khorli!” I screamed, as if my voice could cross the Bridge and reach him before they did what they were planning to do. “Khor⁠—”

Fabric was shoved into my mouth, dry and foul tasting.

My eyes burned, my limbs ached. I continued calling for him, even though my words were too muffled to understand.

He’d said he would come.

The fabric over my chest was torn away.

Khorli would come. He had to come.

Bodies shuffled around me, keeping me pinned so the elder could approach, the ritual knife in his hands.

Khorli would save me.

My arms trembled as I used all my strength to no avail. Hands stronger than mine had my wrists, my arms, my thighs, my shins, my ankles. People I’d known never to trust, but I’d never thought capable of this.

The tip of the blade was so sharp I barely felt it, even as it pierced deep into my sternum.

Tears blurred my vision. Angry faces and the gentle sunlight that streamed between bodies as the blade dragged down my body.

Khorli would be here any moment.

My blood would summon the Others, and he’d find me. He’d save me and take me far away from this place, as he should have long ago.

My chest and stomach were wet. Drenched. I didn’t look down. My vision was too blurred to make anything out, but I knew my blood would follow the engravings of the altar, joining the dried blood of pigs.