THE BURIED GOD
Chapter 22: The Choice
The room was silent.
Damon stood at the edge of the well, his hands cold, his heart heavy. Vespera stood beside him, her silver eyes fixed on his face. Lyssa stood by the door, her green eyes watching. Rook stood in the corner, his gray eyes closed.
The elder watched them all.
“You know what you must do,” she said.
Damon nodded.
“Go back to the mountain. Find the heart. Cut it out.”
“Not cut it out. Destroy it. The heart cannot be cut out. The heart must be unmade.”
“How?”
The elder was silent for a long moment.
“With the blade. The blade of ending. The blade that cut the seed.”
“It’s gone.”
“No. It’s inside you. The blade became part of you when you cut the seed. It is in your blood. In your bones. In your breath.”
Damon touched his chest.
The scar was cold.
“How do I use it?”
The elder stepped closer.
“You reach inside yourself. You find the blade. You pull it out.”
“That will kill me.”
“It may.”
“May?”
The elder smiled.
It was a sad smile, small and tired and full of years.
“The blade has a will of its own. It may choose to spare you. It may choose to consume you. It may choose to become you.”
“And the heart?”
“The blade will know what to do. It was forged for this purpose. It has been waiting for this moment since the beginning.”
Damon looked at Vespera.
“Will you come with me?”
She nodded.
“I was a priestess. I buried the god. I know the way.”
“Lyssa?”
She stepped forward.
“I was a novice. I know the tunnels. I know the traps. I know the guards.”
“Rook?”
The old man opened his eyes.
“I was a soldier. I know how to fight. I know how to die. I know how to hope.”
The elder walked to the door.
She opened it.
“The mountain is waiting. The god is waiting. The hunger is waiting.”
She stepped aside.
“Go.”
Damon walked through the door.
Vespera followed.
Lyssa followed.
Rook followed.
The door closed behind them.