A hard hand clamped on his wrist and jerked him back a step. Caelan looked up to find Rayne’s face pale and streaked with sweat. “You cannot save them,” he bit out.
“Are you serious? We do nothing?” he shouted, not caring who could hear them. Chaos had enveloped the square. Dead bodies were being torn apart and a spreading lake of blood was creeping across the cold stones.
“If you interfere, you are interfering with her offering to the Dead God and her chance to achieve the sign.”
Caelan opened his mouth to argue, but no sound came out. Rayne was right. Regardless of how disgusting and horrible he found this offering, the High Aspect was not ordering Safa to stop. He looked over at the man, whose expression was somber and pale, but his lips were pressed tightly together. He would say nothing to stop the slaughter of his people, because it was being done in the name of his god.
“You think this isn’t the sign the High Luminance was waiting for?” Safa taunted. “I understand these people. I understand their god. He wants blood.”
He ignored her, his attention moving to the pair of snow leopards who had grown bored with tearing at the dead. The only living people were those standing at the top of the stairs in front of the cathedral, and they had the full attention of those two killers.
Caelan shook off Rayne’s restraining hand and focused on tapping into the power from the Goddess of Life. If he must, he would give up protecting the Zastrian lives to appease the High Aspect and the Dead God, but he was not allowing anyone to harm his companions.
The snow leopards bounded toward the stairs, their paws slipping a little in the blood. As they leaped into the air, Caelan threw up the protective shield around his friends. The massive cats slammed into the green barrier and bounced off. They screamed their anger and rounded to strike again.
“He’s interfering with my sign to the Dead God!” Safa shouted.
“It is the will of the Goddess of Life that my companions live!” Caelan snarled. “Do you dare to defy my goddess?”
Safa’s smile was pure malice. “I defy all who refuse to bow to Zyros.”
The air crackled with electricity, and thunder rumbled through the clouds. Caelan smiled, inwardly praying she attacked. He wanted to see exactly how she’d fare against two gods now that he was ready for her.
“Enough!” The High Aspect’s voice cut through the air like a whip snap. “The Dead God accepts your offering, but this was not the sign the High Luminance was hoping to receive.”
“What?” Safa shrieked. She rounded on the man quickly, seeming as if she wanted to pluck his eyeballs out with her claws.
“This was not the sign. You will not be permitted up to Mrtyu for a meeting with the High Luminance. Your business in Temit is now concluded,” the High Aspect said without an ounce of emotion.
Safa took a step toward the priest, but her bodyguard grabbed her elbow, holding her back. She growled low at the man before tossing his hand off. Stomping down the stairs, she glared one final time at Caelan. “Nyx won’t hear you. His allegiance is with Zyros. Not his sister,” she hissed and then strode across the square through the dead. The snow leopards she controlled formed a bloody pack behind her. Caelan could only pray that the people of Temit were staying inside and out of her path. Anyone still out on the streets would not live to regret it.
“King Caelan, your sign, please,” the High Aspect prodded in the sudden, suffocating silence that blanketed the square.
He nodded and immediately released his hold on the shield that had been wrapped around his friends. It was a shame he couldn’t do anything for the people that lay torn apart in the broad square before him. The only spectators who survived the attack were those who had run inside the cathedral. Even now they remained inside with the doors firmly shut. Either no one had told them that the coast was clear, or they weren’t taking their chances with the other visitor. Caelan didn’t blame them for their caution.
Weaving his way through his companions, he slowly descended the stairs to the square. When they tried to accompany him, he held up a single hand, motioning for them to stay back. He needed space. In truth, he wasn’t entirely sure what he was going to attempt, but right now, he wanted to be as alone as he could be.
The scent of death and blood was thick in the air. Even the wind couldn’t push it aside. The hem of his cloak grazed the ground, becoming heavier with every step as it soaked up the blood. The pools coated the soles of his boots and squished softly with each step. It was hard to drag his eyes away from the dead. Men and women of every age were scattered around the open space. At least thirty in all had been hunted down here, but Safa had sent the cats through the city, killing on their way to the square. He wouldn’t be surprised if the body count was close to a hundred when they were all tallied up.