THE BURIED GOD

Chapter 26: The Feeding

The heart pulsed faster.

The red light blazed brighter.

The ground shook harder.

Damon stumbled. Lyssa caught his arm. Rook braced himself against the wall. Vespera stood still, her silver eyes fixed on the high priest, her pale face calm.

“You cannot stop this,” the high priest said. “The god has been waiting for centuries. He will not wait any longer.”

“He will,” Damon said. “Or I’ll bury him myself.”

“You cannot bury what is already dead.”

“The god is not dead. He’s sleeping. And I’m going to put him back to sleep.”

The high priest laughed.

It was a terrible sound—like bones breaking, like glass shattering, like worlds ending.

“You cannot put him back to sleep. You are not a priestess. You are not a vessel. You are not a sacrifice.”

“I’m the gravedigger.”

The high priest’s silver eyes flickered.

“The gravedigger?”

“I’ve been burying your sacrifices for years. Feeding your god. Digging your graves. I know the hunger. I know the mountain. I know the way.”

“And you think that gives you power?”

Damon raised his shovel.

“I think it gives me a weapon.”

---

The high priest stepped back.

The heart pulsed.

The ground shook.

“You cannot hurt me with that. I am not alive. I am not dead. I am between.”

“Then I’ll put you in the ground.”

Damon swung.

The shovel struck the high priest’s chest.

The high priest dissolved.

Not into blood. Not into bone. Into shadow. Into smoke. Into nothing.

The heart pulsed.

The light blazed.

The ground shook.

And then—

Silence.

---

The heart was still.

The light was dim.

The ground was quiet.

Damon stood alone in the center of the chamber.

His shovel was in his hand.

His heart was in his throat.

Vespera walked to him.

“The high priest is gone?”

“The high priest is gone.”

“The god?”

Damon looked at the heart.

At the pulse.

At the hunger.

“The god is sleeping.”

“How do you know?”

He touched his chest.

The scar was cold.

“Because I can’t feel him anymore.”

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