reckoning

The old giant threw his torch into the fire pit, and it blazed to life, flames licking up around the iron bars and blackening the stone—not for the first time, nor for the last, under the waning moon. The light of the ancient altar drew Taerith’s eyes away from the sky, and suddenly he found himself cut loose. He stretched his arms and fingers in wonderment as the crowd around him began to pick up a new strain in their chant—a high, keening song, frightening and frightened.

He knew—he felt—that he was about to die. It was a death song they sang. He had no weapon, nothing with which to face it, and so he turned to meet death wherever it would come.

But something else came instead.

* * *

Chapter 20 of Taerith has been posted. As always, I live for your comments. Thank you!