Chapter Twenty-Seven
I stand, amazed at what I am seeing. My skin burns from the bright sun overhead. Standing high atop the mesa, I feel as though the sun has moved right up next to me. No breeze comes to cool my glistening skin. The putrid stench of the ceremonial fire fills my nostrils, stealing away what remained of the clean air left in my lungs.
Regal in his ceremonial dress, the high priest stands waiting, a long black knife held loosely in his hand. His shoulders sagging with weariness, a quiet sigh escapes his lips. The men who came to claim me now stand in a half circle behind us, as if there is any real chance of escape.
Even after hearing my grandpa recount his great uncle’s story, I am astounded. Everything doesn’t just look real, it is real. The heat, the smells, the stones under my feet. The only hitch in this timeless reality is the absence of any surroundings. The hills of South America are green and rolling, the rivers swift and long. But here, there is only the temple. No crowd of onlookers cheers. No birds fly overhead. There is only the mist, as if it has covered the whole earth.
Silently, the high priest nods his head, the wooden mask bobbing with his movement. The silent guards seize my arms, tearing me from my grandpa’s grip.
“No!”
The scream is torn from my grandpa, while I bite my lip to keep from doing the same.
Reaching for my hand, my grandpa steps forward in a rush. The loud crack barely registers to my ears, but the pain quickly sweeps through him. Lying on the hard stone of the temple mesa, my grandpa moans, clutching his head. A thin stream of blood runs through his fingers. His eyes roll in pain as he heaves in breath after breath. “Arra,” he croaks.
“Stop,” the priest shouts. The man trembles visibly. “Just hold him.” He turns his back, a hand going under his mask to his eyes.
The two remaining guards resume their work. I want to scream, beg them not to kill me. Fear is so thick I fear it will choke me. But I know this is what I have to do to stop any future deaths. My only concern now is for my grandpa. My eyes catch the priest’s. “Please don’t let them hurt him.”
My words seem to catch him off guard. “I won’t,” he says slowly. “There was been enough killing already. Too much.”
“I know.” My voice is quiet. I have more to say, but my strength falters. The calm I was hoping would surround me in this moment is hard to find. It is the right choice, but that doesn’t make it any easier. “There has been too much pain and suffering, but I hope this will be the last.”
“It will never be the last,” the priest says in despair.
The strain in his eyes overwhelms me. He gloried in offering sacrifices to his god in my dreams. That joy is gone now. He looks at the blade in his hand with disgust. Looking like he wants to throw it from the top of the temple, he clutches it more tightly instead. His weakness pushes me forward.
“This will be the last death,” I tell him firmly.
The priest’s whole body sags, worn from centuries of fulfilling his duty. His head drops to his chest as pain fills his features. “I’m sorry, Arrabella, but this curse will never end. I have no choice but to see you die by my own wretched hand, and every female of this line after you. The gods demand it, and they cannot be denied.”
“That’s not true,” I tell him. “The gods are still waiting for their original demand to be met. They wanted a willing sacrifice, and…” My throat seizes with fear, but belief in what I am doing forces the words to be spoken. “And I am here to satisfy that demand. I give up my life willing to Tlaloc. I don’t want to see anyone else die.”
“No!” my grandpa cries out, but the priest and guards seem not to have heard. I cannot face his pain, so I do not respond either. I turn to the priest instead.
I can see it in his eyes. He doesn’t want to watch another girl die. He wants to stop the gruesome murders, but he doesn’t believe that this will work. He has endured too many murders atop this temple to believe it will ever end. He seems unsure of how to proceed.
“Please, you have to help me stop this.” I have to be right about this. The thought of David one day having a daughter only to watch her die a strange and unexplainable death is worse than the idea of losing my own life. “Please. I don’t understand the selfishness that brought this curse to life, but you must help me put an end to it, please.”
The movement starts slowly, just his hand moving from his side. Suddenly, the hand whips to his forehead and rips the wooden mask from his face. My pleading stops, and my gaze falls upon the man’s face. The difference in his features shocks me. He looks to be the same age as he was in my dreams, but he is barely recognizable as the same man.
His skin is pulled too tightly against his skull, yet in some places seems to sag much more than it should. Red veins meander through the whites of his eye. His pupils, too large for the brightness of the day, seem to soak in every horrible detail of the mesa. His teeth are yellowed and weathered with cracks. Misery and hopelessness radiate from him.
“Selfishness,” he repeats, sighing deeply. Withering even further as he speaks the word, the priest looks ready to collapse. Suddenly, the weariness in his face disappears in a flash, replaced by anguish. “You call me selfish, but I only thought to save a life, Kivera’s life. Do you think I was pleased when she was brought forward as a sacrifice? I was horrified, but it was too late.”
My guards, who seem to be confused by the change in procedure, have lessened their grip on my body. Seizing the opportunity, I wrenched out of their grasp. Fear slaps their faces and they lunge for me again. The high priest waves them away. Reluctantly, they ease their stance. The priest’s strange young, but old hands cover his face, squeezing his flesh.
“What are you talking about? You killed thousands in the name of your gods. What made you give in to Kivera’s pleas, of all people? Why make an exception for that selfish little girl? Why was she so different?” I ask, my calm turning back to anger as he tries to defend his decision. “Why would you save one girl and then condemn hundreds in her place?”
“You would not have taken the deal if it were offered to you as it was Kivera?” he asks.
“No,” I say, “Of course not. I’m trying to tell you now that I am willing to do what Kivera wasn’t. I want this to end.”
“I want this to end as well, but you don’t understand the original decision. I could not let her die, no matter the cost”
“Why Kivera? Why offer her such a vile deal, dooming her children to death, just to save her? How could either of you do that?” I stare, accusing him, forcing him to take responsibility.
“Kivera was the most beautiful woman I had ever seen.” He pauses as my scowl deepens, my anger burning hot. I can’t bring myself to believe that this all started over a pretty face. I eye the knife in his hand and wishing he was the one suffering under this curse.
Sensing my anger, the priest draws the knife behind his body and speaks. “It’s not what you think, Arrabella. I grew up with her. We were children together. I was sent to train in the city, but I went back to see her every chance I got. That summer she was turning sixteen, old enough for me to ask her father’s permission to marry her.
“When I arrived in her village to speak with her father, he was dead and she was already gone. I asked those who weren’t too afraid to speak to me, but all I learned was that she had been taken to the city as a sacrifice to Tlaloc. I raced back to the city, hoping to stop her, but by the time I arrived the priests had already pronounced her the chosen sacrifice for the ceremony. It was binding. Nothing could be done to have the order rescinded.”
The man, if he can be called that, crouches on the ground, his hands squeezing his temples. “I had wanted her for my bride.
My jaw dropped at the beginning of his confession, now I simply struggle to keep up with his story. Glancing at my grandpa, I see that he has recovered from the blow to his head and is drinking in every detail. His face is stone, but strangely reassuring to me.
“I did
not know,” the priest continues, “that when she was presented before the priests that she hadn’t gone willingly. I didn’t know why she was there, stolen from her murdered father in an effort for her village leaders to gain favor in the eyes of Tlaloc. Only when she begged for mercy on this temple mesa did I realize what had happened, but then it was too late. Once a sacrifice is declared, it is unlawful to retract the person.
“Tlaloc is not a god of mercy, not in any way. Her pleading, her promise of giving anything to save her own life inspired the mischievous god. He wanted to know how far she would go, how far we would both go, to save her life. She and I both accepted his offer. In exchange for Kivera's life, our daughters became forfeit.”
I turn away from him in disgust. No matter how much he loved her, how could he agree to such a thing? Did he not consider that those would be his daughters as well? That he would be forced to murder his own children? I don’t understand how he could be so blind.
“We had no idea it would continue like this. You must believe us. Both of us thought he meant her daughters, the ones she actually bore, not every female in her line. We had no idea,” he cries pitifully.
“It doesn’t matter what you thought he meant,” I say with no pity. “Even one life was too many.”
The guards, seemingly no longer content with drawing out what had to be done, grab my arms and haul me back to the altar. They slam me onto the rough stone table. The air in my lungs blasts out of my body and sends me into a fit of choking gasps. The hard pitted surface rubs against the bare parts of my skin as I squirm, trying to catch my breath. Pinpoints of pain radiate all over my body from the rough treatment. Every limb is tied securely before I am able to clear my head.
Growling in anger, my grandpa tenses. No longer able to contain his rage, he rears against the ancient warrior holding him. Swinging elbows and fists at his captor, my grandpa tries to free himself. The burly man behind him does not even seem to notice the flailing and screaming. Tears slide down his face, matching my own expression.
“I’m sorry, Arrabella, but I nothing can stop it now. The gods cannot be commanded by mortal man,” the priest whines.
“You’re sorry? Is that all you have to say for the lives you’ve stolen?” I meet the priest’s eyes again, and hold his gaze. “What about your precious Kivera? Is she sorry, too? Is she even capable of feeling anything for anyone but herself? Is there any sorrow in her for the hundreds of girls she has murdered?”
“Ask her yourself,” the priest whispers.
I snap my head back toward the priest. The air wavers next to him, folding and rippling until a slender body materializes. A small woman stands gazing at her feet, motionless. A visible shudder runs through her body. Raising her head timidly, her eyes lock onto the priest’s. A glimmer of joy flashes briefly in her eyes before the realization hits and she collapses to the ground sobbing.
“No, not again. Skaline, I can’t watch this again, I can’t. Make it stop, please,” she begs him. “I cannot watch another innocent child die. Please don’t let it be time again.”
“Then don’t,” I say loudly. “Don’t let this continue.”
The realization that Kivera does regret her decision, that she is even capable of emotion, has not changed my opinion of the selfishness of her behavior as a child, but I hope it will force her to listen to me.
The woman snaps her attention to me, stunned by my outburst. “If you truly feel sorrow over what you have done, then help me stop this,” I beg. “Convince Skaline to ask Tlaloc if one life given willingly will stop the curse.”
I glared at the woman who has caused so much death. Once she was a beauty, most likely turning every head around her. Now, her body, pocked by misery, hangs like a rag doll with little strength left. Kivera approaches my bound form, drying her tears furiously.
“I hate myself for what I’ve done. Every second after making that decision I have been plagued by guilt and pain,” she said, as if that excuses her. “Six of my children died as sacrifices to Tlaloc, a god I despise with everything I am. Out of sheer mockery, we were finally blessed with a son. We were so pleased, pleased to have at least one child that would live past their sixteenth birthday. We thought we had been redeemed, that we could now have some semblance of happiness. We thought it was finally over. We aged, watching our son marry and have his own children.
“The horror of what we had done never faded, but we found a small amount of joy in what we had left, until our son’s eldest daughter reached her sixteenth birthday. We had always counted our son as such a blessing, now we knew he was only a device to keep our bloodline alive. Once again we were swept here, I to watch, Skaline to perform the ceremony. It is our eternal punishment for our selfish actions. We can never escape it.
“I wish that I could change things. I can’t bear to watch anyone else die. I was wrong to do what I did, but what can I do now? I cannot command the gods. I do not think anything will change their minds now. I am at their mercy, here for their pleasure, nothing more. I wish with all my heart that I could untie you and send you back to your family, but I can’t. I am sorry, truly sorry, Arrabella.”
I turn my head away. What else can I say? Sorry doesn’t mean very much to me now. Sorry won’t bring anyone back. Not my Aunt Katie, not Maera, there is no saving them. Kivera is desperately seeking to ease her own conscience, nothing more, and I will not want to give her that satisfaction.
“Won’t you even try?” I ask both Skaline and Kivera. “Please, just ask Tlaloc. Try to make up for what you have done. You’ll never have any peace if you don’t.”
The pair glances at each other. The glimmer of hope in their eyes is not very strong, but it is there. I suspect that their desire to stop this curse has as much to do with ending their own pain as it does with saving anymore sacrifices, but as long as it works, I don’t care.
Kivera nods to Skaline, and he returns the gesture. “I will try,” he says quietly. I watch as his eyes turns up toward the god he is seeking. His features become very still as his eyes glaze over. I think everyone on the temple mesa holds their breath as we wait.
The first hint of an answer is when Skaline’s mouth begins to twitch. His eyes refocus, yet fill with tears. As his body seems to crumble in on itself, my heart breaks. I know what answer he received. It was my only hope, the one piece of comfort I could find in dying. I hoped my death would at least keep this from happening again, but now that has been taken away as well.
“Arrabella, I’m so sorry, but nothing will end this curse.” He looks over me with tears falling from his eyes. I have never seen such agony bound up in one person.
Kivera breaks down in sobs next to him.
“I must perform the sacrifice,” Skaline says through his pain. “I’m so sorry.”
Finally, I give in to the fear I have been trying so hard to hold back. My own tears flow freely down my cheeks. I glance over at my grandpa, expecting to see my own feelings mirrored in his eyes, but they are not. He watches Kivera, a strange pity flowing from him.
“She is the wrong sacrifice,” my grandpa says, his voice calm. “She is not the one who can end this curse. If you truly wish to atone for your actions, you must prove it. Don’t let Arra die while you stand by and watch.”
“Prove it? How, old one? What can I do?” she asks, her haggard face heaving with every sob.
“Die,” my grandpa says quietly. I hear his words, but do not understand at first. Suddenly, hope springs in my heart.
“What?” Kivera asks, choking back more wracking sobs. “What did you say?”
Skaline is looking at my grandpa now. Hope tinges his dark eyes as well. Moving closer to Kivera, he pulls her up to a standing position.
“That is the only way you can end this,” my grandpa states. He looks at Kivera and Skaline. It will take them both to make it work. How much shame do they really feel? Is it enough? I wonder. I hope it is. “You have to die willingly, Kivera, and you have to be the
one to kill her, Skaline. You have to be willing to give up, now, what you couldn’t give up the first time you stood here.”
Still bound to the altar, I struggle to face them directly. I watch as recognition flashes through their minds. It seems such a simple answer now that my grandpa has presented it to them. Have they really never considered the idea? I wonder. Or have there just not been enough deaths yet to convince them of the need to repent of their evil choices? Tears fall from their eyes. Skaline embraces his love. Kivera digs her head into his shoulder.
“I know that what was done to you was a terrible thing, Kivera, but what you two have done cannot be excused either. No one blames you for wanting to be rescued from such an evil fate, but this,” he says gesturing around him, “cannot go on. It must stop now. Sacrificing yourselves for all the girls to come is the only way to stop the killing. Arrabella’s life is not what Tlaloc craves. Show Tlaloc you aren’t the selfish children you once were. Repent for the choice you made and pay the debt you owe. It’s the only way.”
Sure that what he is saying is true, I close my eyes, pleading for them to accept.
“I have never considered this before, but I believe he is right, Kivera. Perhaps Tlaloc will forgive us and remove the curse if we are willing to give each other up. I must perform the ceremony one last time,” he says gravely.
“Will it really work?” Kivera asks. “Could we save her?” She glances at me, still prone on the altar, with hope in her eyes. “I cannot bear to watch her die.” Skaline nods, more sure of the proposal with every passing second. “What about the others? Would it be as if we had done it on that first day?”
“No, Kivera. Our choice cannot be erased. What is done is already done. There is no saving those children, no saving our children. But we can save Arrabella. I am sure we can at least save her, and every child that might come after her. Think of those we will be forced to watch die in years to come if we do not do this. We can end this, now. The old man is right,” Skaline says, conviction tight in his voice.
Solemnly, Kivera nods her consent. She releases herself from his iron grip. Pride for her decision to sacrifice her life for mine and all the others to come swirls with remorse for everything she has already lost. “Release the child,” Kivera orders, her voice firm and commanding. The guards jump to obey her. In seconds, I am free, as is my grandpa.
He runs to me. Scooping me into his arms, he hugs me with every ounce of strength he possesses. “It’s alright, honey. You’re safe now. Are you okay?”
“I’m okay now, Grandpa,” I say, trying to calm myself, worried about the blood matted in his hair.
“I thought offering myself would work, but I think you’re right, I’m not the one Tlaloc wants.” I say. “I saw the pity for them in your eyes when Tlaloc refused me. You knew then what Tlaloc wanted, didn’t you?”
My grandpa nods his head wearily. “I never thought I would pity either of them, but when I saw their faces, I felt nothing else. I knew they were being punished just as much as you.”
A slight sound draws our attention back to our former captors. Standing next to the altar, Kivera’s body is perfectly still. A genuine smile graces her lips. Slowly, she lowers herself to the altars face. There are no cords this time. The guards stand aside, looking just as relieved that their endless task is nearing its end. A sense of calmness settles over Kivera as she lies on the altar.
Knife in hand, Skaline slides into place at the head of the altar. His face is composed, but the horror of what he is about to do, kill his own wife for the sake of a young girl he doesn’t know, is plainly visible. The question in his eyes is answered by a stiff nod from Kivera as she gazes at the knife in his hand. Even though she isn’t technically alive, she will feel its bite. Whether she knows it is the right thing to do or not, she is terrified.
Tears flow freely from both faces, but neither one will turn aside now, not with their only hope for peace being offered to them. The air wavers briefly. The centuries of pain and torture is lifted from their bodies, confirming Tlaloc’s acceptance of their offering. I gasp. The two stand transfixed, the exact images from my dream. Kivera’s timeless beauty is restored. Once again, Skaline is the strong young man he was before trading his soul away.
“I love you,” Skaline whispers, before plunging his obsidian blade into her chest.