There was a scraping sound as, under the creature’s spell, the stones peeled away to reveal a doorway. Inside was an even smaller room, in the centre of which stood a stone altar. Behind the altar was an iron cross like the one that Wislaw had planned to sacrifice her on, except that this was far older, the chains covered with rust.
‘What happened here?’ Iwa shuddered. More than anything she wanted to get out. If only she’d never come across this place. Cautiously she stepped through the doorway, the sound of whips and the cries of the long dead echoing after her. Could she really contain such evil?
‘Many terrible things. Now you know why the stones are the way they are. Centuries of blood and dark magic have seeped into their very heart.’
‘Perhaps the men who destroyed this temple were right,’ Iwa couldn’t help but say, her voice filled with underlying venom. She hadn’t lost anyone to this place, yet she would have gladly pounded the stones to dust and wiped all memory of them away from the dominion of Matka Ziemia.
‘There will always be a portion of evil locked away here until the ends of eternity,’ the creature said. ‘Be thankful of your gods, that they do not demand such sacrifice.’
‘How could anybody have done this?’
‘Not all the gods of this place were so bloodthirsty. Much good lies here as well.’
‘Then it keeps itself well hidden.’ Iwa glanced around, she hadn’t seen anything in the way of goodness. But the creature was no longer looking at her, instead reaching a cloven hoof towards the lintel. ‘Some of the stones have tried to kill us because evil has soaked their veins. Yet most only wish to guard the terror that lingers here so that it does not seep back into the world and trouble Matka Ziemia again.’
‘And I have left Yaroslav in the hands of one of their priests.’ Iwa shuddered as she remembered Wislaw’s altar.
‘I doubt he has an inkling about what he is doing. Much of the knowledge about those old gods has been swept away and a fool like him can only guess at mere scraps of information.’
‘Bethrayal is a part of all this?’
‘The Lord Bethrayal wanted to stop the sacrifices. He was once a high priest here, but he wanted an end to the blood gods.’
‘Then why didn’t he help the men destroy the temple?’
‘Because he thought that the gods of this place could be quelled. Not all of them demanded blood. Lord Bethrayal refused the blood gods their due and stopped the sacrifices, replacing their worship with more kindly gods. But the people were slow to forget the horror of this place and they couldn’t forgive the temple for the slaughter. And there were many too who were scared of his power or lusted after it. They were so ready to forge their alliances against him; those jealous, frightened men.’
The creature paused at the entrance and made a sign of reverence before it crossed into the room. ‘Come,’ it motioned, ‘we cannot be distracted, not here. There is still much to be done.’
‘What do you want me to do?’ Iwa faltered. Until now she had thought only of freeing Yaroslav and ridding the forest of the woyaks. She’d never wanted to get caught up with such dark forces. She didn’t really trust this Lord Bethrayal, nobody who was high priest over this place could be good, but she had no choice. The sooner he is caged, the better. She tried to stifle the thought lest the stones could read it. Cautiously she glanced over her shoulder. Already the doorway was blocked, as if the wall had never parted. She didn’t even bother to consider where the light was coming from.
‘You must not be afraid,’ the pig-faced demon said, ‘not now when we are so near. Think of your father. Think of what will happen to the forest if the krol scrapes away at Matka Ziemia. Maybe Wislaw will manage to resurrect the old gods in the guise of the new. The clan gods may demand the blood of animals from time to time, as do the gods of the Poles; but they do not lust after human blood in the way that the gods of this altar would if ever they managed to find their way back into the hearts of men.’
‘So what must I do?’ Iwa said, conscious of how her voice was trembling.
‘You must lie down and prepare yourself to be a vessel for the Lord Bethrayal.’ As the creature took out the amulet and let it dangle from the end of its cloven hoof, a cold tremor ran through Iwa’s body. She didn’t like the sound of being a vessel of anybody’s power. And guess where I have to lie. She shivered as she approached the altar: as if it could be anywhere else.
The pig’s head watched as Iwa lay on the slab and tried not to gaze up at the cross. As she lay down the chains began to rattle, though there was no wind to disturb them, and their hooks, well rusted now, swayed as if they bayed for blood.
The demon stood before her and threw down some herbs on Iwa’s body, as the pig’s head began to speak. It took on a new voice, deep and guttural like the Karzełek, but harder. In the distance Iwa could hear a sound much like the beat of a drum. Strange words filled the void, pouring out of the pig’s head to dance around her as the ancient magic of this room awoke.
Desperately she tried not to look up. Above her she could see a tongue of
