* * *
The sun was high and the temple was busy. They walked straight into it, heads high. He kept to her side, always close enough to grab her were she to attempt escape. She could not believe she had spilled the secrets of the temple to him and now the Council knew what they should not. She had broken a sacred trust. Still, she was too afraid to do anything but lead him on. They passed the statue of the Great Mother and no one questioned them. He looked confident enough to be at home there, and with his baggy shirt and hood his sex was not instantly obvious. No man should ever enter the inner sanctum, let alone behold the Mysteries. The Dark Mother was for the Mothers and their children to worship, no common man should enter into Her presence.
It was too late. They marched on to the last corridor and she led him into its darkness. He was barely a step behind her; she could hear his breath, feel it on the back of her head, was painfully aware of his looming presence. When she caught sight of the red glow ahead, it gave her no comfort. The Dark Mother would surely damn her now. She had done more than failed. This was betrayal.
They entered the cavern and she stopped, though he bumped into her. Surely he could not expect to go any farther? He had seen what he needed to see. He could tell the Council about the cavern, about the Mothers worshipping a hidden side of the Great Mother. Yet he pushed her on, towards the fire.
“Mothers!” he shouted. “See what I have brought you! A traitor and a betrayer, an ungrateful orphan, who is unfit for your service.”
She hung her head and breathed in gasps, trying not to panic. Her heart was thundering chaotically in her chest, skipping beats, her rhythm lost. She was aware of the Mothers crowding in around her and wanted to supplicate herself, but found she could not move. Her body was made weak by fear. She was not fit to kiss their skirts.
“Why did you bring a man amongst us, child? Why did you not complete your mission?”
“Mother, I am sorry. I was confused. I did not know I had a real mother.”
“Ah, child.”
The fingers were at her cheek, but the touch was not the gentle one she was used to. The fingers reached around her jaw and gripped her, lifting her face. She could not help raising her eyes too, and found herself looking straight into the black orbs of the Mother's eyes. Her face looked white reflected there, ghost-like.
“That was not your mother, child. Those were not your memories. It was a test, my love, my dear Alandra, for the Dark Mother to know your loyalty.”
The Mother cocked her head to the side, wrinkled lips pursing in distaste at the expression she saw in Alandra's face, but Alandra could not control herself. She knew for the first time in her service of the temple she had failed. Her tears flowed unchecked.
“It is a shame, child. You had shown such promise. And now we are to lose both you, and this, our faithful servant.” The mother reached a gnarled red hand towards the man who had been the target. “No man may learn our Mysteries and live.”
The man's head snapped up, and his eyes were wide.
“But I only did what you told me!” he said, but it was too late. The other Mothers had him in their clutches, and they dragged him towards the fire.
“I am sorry, Mother,” she said. “I am sorry I failed you. Will the Dark Mother accept the sacrifice of one as low as I?”
“Of course, my child. Your blood still carries the power to sustain us, your death will not be without purpose. Meet your death bravely and the Dark Mother will be proud. Redeem yourself, and you will receive a chance at another life.”
Alandra watched the Mothers drain the man's blood before throwing his body into the sacrificial fire.
“If She will let me have another life, I will use it better.” Alandra said. “That I swear.”
The Mother nodded her approval, and shuffled forward to sink her teeth into the child's shoulder.
About the Author
Lisa Farrell has been writing for as long as she can remember. Much of what she writes is speculative fiction, but she tries other things from time to time. She has an MA in Creative Writing from the University of East Anglia, and some of her stories are available in print and online?check out lisafarrell.blogspot.com for links. She lives in the UK with her husband and two black cats, and is currently trying to edit a couple of novels simultaneously.
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