Sophie’s fingers had already slipped around his phallus. Her fingers circled the under ridge of the crown, and her thumb pressed over the slit that dimpled his tip. Then her fist began to slide slowly downward.
“I heard someone took eight inches once,” said Leona, her solemn voice breaking the silence.
Rae nodded and supplied the name. “Elena Vidora. But it wasn’t enough to wake him.”
It doesn’t matter how much of him you take,
Natalia wanted to scream.
It’s scientifically impossible for the ritual to work. Stone cannot be turned into flesh
.
“Well, if anyone can stir him back to life, it’s definitely me,” said Sophie. Releasing him, she fumbled under her skirts, then awkwardly stepped out of her underthings. She tossed the bit of institute-standard-issue white cotton behind her. Her pantalets snagged on the statue’s big toe, to sway in the wind.
Rae giggled uncertainly. “Gods, Sophie, you are crazy.”
“Oil,” Sophie commanded, stretching her hand out toward them, palm up.
Leona produced a small jar from the pocket of her cloak and opened its lid. “Better use plenty.”
Sophie scooped some out and carefully slicked it over the statue’s phallus. “I know what I’m doing.”
Natalia tried a new tack, desperate to dissuade her. “What about the ritual tomorrow? You have to remain pure.”
Sophie snickered. “Don’t tell me you actually think I’ve waited?”
Natalia stared at her, shocked. The other two girls shot her pitying looks.
“Everyone our age has lain with a man by now, mistress,” Rae informed her kindly.
“At least everyone who’s pretty enough,” Sophie added, her voice laced with meaning.
Natalia knew she wasn’t pretty, at least not in the same way as these girls with their curled blond hair and blue eyes and sylphlike figures. Although her own waist was small, her body had more voluptuous curves. And her hair was unfashionably wavy and lush. The priestesses had declared that her appearance was sinful, and as she’d matured, her body had therefore been bound with corsets and hair tamed into a plait.
“But what will the priests say when you turn out to be unchaste tomorrow?” she persisted.
Leona bit off a snicker. “My first time
was
a priest.”
Natalia gazed at her, even more shocked, if it were possible. How could she have been so oblivious of what these girls got up to?
“Priests are just men under their robes,” Leona confided in a superior tone. “They have needs. That’s why the temple allows them to marry and have families.” She shot Natalia a sidelong glance. “Haven’t you noticed the special attention Lay Priest Baldassare pays you?”
Natalia shook her head, brushing off her words. “But the punishment for being unchaste is—”
“No one will find out. A sac of pig’s blood tucked into our privates is said to fool the authorities,” Rae assured her. “Instant re-virginization. It’s what everyone does.”
“Where in the world are you going to get pig’s blood?” asked Natalia, astonished.
“The old hag who lives in the cedar stumps at the edge of the swamp doles them out for a price,” Leona informed her. “We’ll visit her tomorrow morning.”
“But I thought you were all so frightened of the ritual,” said Natalia.
“Well, we’ve never done it in front of a crowd!” said Leona.
“And never with any male sporting a member as big as this,” said Sophie. She’d straddled him again and was now positioning herself to take him. With one hand, she flipped the back of her skirts out of the way.
Natalia glanced over her shoulder at the lights twinkling far below, terrified they would all be discovered. “This is no childish prank that will be forgiven. If caught, you’ll probably be flogged before the whole community. Maybe even sold to the flesh peddlers on the outskirts of town.”
Sophie flicked her a glance. Natalia read the wild determination in her eyes. “Don’t watch if you don’t want to. Go back.”
Natalia seriously considered it. But someone had to smuggle these girls back into the dormitory, and she had a key, something they did not.
Sophie’s knees spread wide over him to rest on the altar’s surface on either side of his smooth abdomen. Her companions huddled together, shivering and waiting. Sophie lowered her head and lifted her hips, seeking impalement. Her hips sank slightly and she winced. “Give me that jar again.”
Leona rushed forward and held the jar of cream out to her. Sophie scooped some out, then reached under her skirts.
Gingerly, she tried him on again. “Gods.”
“What does it feel like?” Rae asked, sounding fascinated.
Sophie looked thoughtful, her enjoyment at being the center of attention overwhelming her discomfort for the moment. “Cold. Smooth. Like being stabbed by a—” Her hips raised and lowered in a series of quick jerks. “Enormous. Frozen. Sword.”
Everyone fell silent for long moments as she squirmed, trying to take more of him. Her humor quickly fled as she continued the attempt. The silence among them thickened like the swirling mist sweeping in from the nearby sea.
Despite the chill, sweat beaded Sophie’s forehead and she wore a look of concentration. Grimacing, she undulated her pelvis in a series of careful tilts. Then she let out a smothered cry.
“Give up?” asked Leona.
“Stop, Soph!” Natalia pleaded. She went to her and reached out a hand. “You don’t have to do this. Not for some foolish wager.”
Sophie batted her hand away. Their eyes met, and Natalia read her sister’s unwillingness to give in in front of her companions. She’d unwittingly caused her sister to suffer simply by being here—somehow her presence had raised the stakes. Sophie was too proud and fearless for her own good sometimes. She’d kill herself on this damned lark before she’d admit defeat.
So Natalia made the decision for her. “Get off,” she commanded, laying a hand on Sophie’s thigh. It was quivering under the strain of her attempt. “Get off him. Now, before you kill yourself. If you don’t come down, I swear I’ll scream louder than the bloodiest banshee. The entire village will be up here in minutes.”
Rae took several steps forward, her eyes gone wide. “No! Do as your sister says, Sophie. It’s not worth getting flogged or sold to the flesh peddlers.”
“Or worse,” added Natalia, trying to truly scare them.
“Only if Leona declares that our wager is officially off,” Sophie said stubbornly.
Natalia turned to Leona. “Do it,” she ordered.
Leona let out a sullen huff.
“Do it, Leona, or I’ll see you sold to the flesh peddlers myself,” threatened Natalia.
Leona lifted a shoulder. “Very well then. Wager’s off.”
Sophie let out a relieved breath. She raised her hips, gasping. Natalia reached up to help.
“Thank you,” Sophie whispered, so only she would hear. For this moment in time, she had reverted to the sweet sister from their childhood.
“Help us, girls,” Natalia ordered. As she took one of her sister’s arms, Leona and Rae ran to the other side of the statue and up the steps, taking her other.
Sophie gripped their hands hard, awkward as she began her dismount. Suddenly, she lost her balance, tumbling sideways.
Natalia caught her weight, immediately losing her own balance and falling forward. Her palm struck marble, bracing itself momentarily on the statue’s ribs as she supported her sister. Under her fingers, the stone warmed.
Anguish, grief, torment, rage. The emotions beat at her, one tumbling over another in a blistering maelstrom, as if they’d been pent up and were only now breaking free.
Surprised, she snatched her hand away and righted herself as Leona and Rae pulled her sister upright. The emotions that had so overwhelmed her stopped instantly, as if a door had shut between them and her.
She took Sophie’s arm and gazed at her with concern. “Sophie! Are you all right?”
However, once she was again on terra firma, Sophie was all bravado. “How far did I get?”
Leona studied the statue’s phallus, noting where the moisture ended. “It appears that you took about six inches.”
“Is that all?” asked Sophie, disappointed. She retrieved her pantalets and stepped into them, hoisting them higher under her skirt. “Are you sure—?”
Natalia put an arm around her sister and waved to the others, trying to herd them down the hill. “Come, girls.”
“Oh!” Rae let out a little shriek and put a hand over her mouth.
“Hush!” Leona hissed.
But Rae’s eyes were wide as she pointed at the statue’s side. “But, look!”
They all followed her stunned gaze and saw—the impossible. There, branded on the statue’s ribs, was a perfect imprint of a hand.
Natalia’s hand.
“Gods, what did you do to him, Nat?” breathed Sophie, wonder in her voice.
“Nothing.” Natalia backed away, shaking her head. “I didn’t do anything.”
“Nooo!” Leona wailed softly. “Now the priests are going to know someone was up here tonight. We have to repair it somehow.”
“Oh!” Rae squeaked. “Where she touched him. Something’s happening!”
Natalia and the others watched in fascinated horror as the handprint on his side began to glow. It was no longer an icy blue, but had heated to molten silver, seeming to draw color from the thin veins that striated the marble.
Abruptly, a chunk of stone in the exact shape of Natalia’s hand fell to the ground with a muted thud.
“ ‘She who can make
him
flesh and bone will save our land,’ ” Leona quoted from the sacred tablets. Her eerie voice drifted to linger prophetically in the cold night air.
Natalia pulled her eyes from the phenomenon and saw the other girls staring at her in awed speculation. She spread her arms, forcing a smile. “You all look as if you think I might morph into one of the thirteen devils at any moment.”
Sophie nudged Leona with her elbow. “She’s right. You’re being ridiculous. She didn’t mate him.”
“The prophecy isn’t explicit about the necessity of that,” argued Leona.
“No one really believes in the prophecy except the priests and the elders,” Sophie said, reversing her previous statements about the validity of the myth.
“But maybe Mistress Natalia
is
the one,” insisted Rae. She sidled as close as she dared to the statue and gazed into the convex handprint in the marble, appearing disappointed it didn’t go deep enough to see any actual flesh beneath. “Just imagine if the myth were to finally come true!”
“I guess you’ll have your own try at making it do so tomorrow, won’t you?” said Sophie.
“There’s little chance of that,” Leona scoffed. “When they hear about this, the priests will have Mistress Natalia taking our places with him before you can snap your fingers.”
“When they hear about what?” asked Sophie. “I thought we all swore that everything that occurred here tonight was to be secret.”
“But—” Leona gestured toward the handprint, faltering under the threat implicit in Sophie’s stare. “They’re going to notice.”
“And they’ll ask questions,” said Rae.
“A new pact, then,” Natalia suggested. “For the safety of all here, none of us will speak of this.”
Leona and Rae looked uncertain.
Sophie took a threatening step toward them. “If either of you tell anyone, I will smear your reputations so badly that no father will ever allow his son to offer for you. Instead of wedding one of the boys at school, you’ll wind up the brides of widowed elders. Now swear. Put your hands on ... on
him
and swear an oath of silence on this matter.”
Leona shook her head, backing away. “All right, I’ll swear. But I’m not touching him.” Not waiting for a reply, she turned and stalked off down the hill.
“I swear as well,” mumbled Rae. Darting a wary look at them, she dashed off in the wake of the other girl.
Sophie and Natalia followed, solemn on the way back to the dormitory. Just before they reached their destination, Sophie whispered, “I’m sorry, Nat. This is my fault.”
Natalia took Sophie’s hand and gave it a quick squeeze. “All will be well, Soph. Don’t worry.”
Leona and Rae were waiting by the locked entrance to the dormitory. Natalia pulled out her key, and then they were all silently sneaking inside.
Back in her tiny, private bedchamber, Natalia bathed, washing her offending hand—the one that had somehow damaged the statue. No, it had been damaged long ago. Something terrible had happened. And when her palm had met a rib of stone tonight, it was she who’d been touched. She who’d been affected. By something beautiful—by a soul that had suffered unbearably and now raged for revenge. And yet was still redeemable.
No matter how she scrubbed at her hand now, an echo of the pain she’d borne witness to remained with her. And a need to heal it permeated her entire being, making her restless and uncertain of what to do.
And no matter how she scrubbed, she couldn’t wash away the facts. Leona and Rae could not keep a secret for long. She would have to leave this place, and convince Sophie to go along with her. She pulled out her satchel and began packing.
N
atalia jerked awake the next morning with a feeling of dread. It felt late. Half asleep, she fumbled for her timepiece. Only ten minutes until her first class began!
She splashed her face with cold water from the basin, donned her uniform with lightning speed, and grabbed her satchel. She had to find Sophie. Tell her they were going to run.
She’d bathed last night, packed her belongings into her satchel, and then she’d lain awake for hours making feverish plans. At nooning today, the gates in the great wall would open so that the community could assemble outside the temple for the festival.
Although arrivals would be searched, anyone departing would not be. She and Soph had travel papers, and distant relatives in foreign sections of ElseWorld. They would visit them and ask to sojourn briefly in their homes. If the priests came searching for them, there were options, places they could run. Some of her friends had wed and relocated over the years. She could search them out.
But nowhere would be truly safe. They wouldn’t be able to stay in one place for long for fear of endangering those who housed them.