'That went well,' Michael said, rubbing his forehead with his hand.
Jareth started toward him. 'She reminds me in some ways of Genny.'
Michael laughed. 'You must be thinking of someone else. Genevieve never questioned a single word I said. She was the most cordial creature alive. Ariana manages nothing but resistance. Father must've had a time with her.'
'She reminds me of Genny in her apparent ability to test you. She may not have verbally challenged you, but she certainly did me. She constantly bit at my ankles. This is what having a sister entails. You aren't always the hero — in fact you're more often than not the villain. I saw that look in your eyes when you realized she was here with me. My intentions couldn't be nobler, yet still you questioned them.'
Michael grinned, tilting his head to the side. 'I questioned who, knowing whose sister she is, would lure her into the caverns in the dark of night? You're fortunate that I don't doubt the integrity of your intentions, whatever they may be.'
Jareth heard the words escape his lips too hurriedly to stop them. 'True. Knowing whose sister she is, I could've had such foul intent as to use her for target practice. What was it someone wise once said to me? Ah, aim so that you may never be unsure of your intended target.' Tears came to his eyes, he was laughing so hard and it became apparent that he couldn't have contained himself, no matter how ill a response he received from his friend.
Michael glowered at him.
'I'm sorry. I even promised her I wouldn't.' He said it between breaths, his chest still heaving.
'Funny.' Michael said.
'Yes, yes it is.' Jareth was just beyond Michael in the caverns when Michael reached back and took him by the arm.
'Tell me my eyes were playing tricks on me.'
Jareth backed up till he could see Michael face to face. 'You realized what she was holding? You were asking about the reasoning behind your father's secrecy? I think we've found — '
Michael, who'd been holding his breath, exhaled. 'What we've found, I suspect, is barely the beginning of it.'
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
It was a special observance. Four humans stood at the front of the sanctuary. Garren, flanked by Aiden and several others, stood behind the pulpit. They were clothed in black, save the thick red cloaks that hung at their shoulders. Tadraem led the evening prayer and then summoned the Ereubinians who were to participate in the ceremony. Garren walked out with Aiden, the other two Ereubinians following on the opposite side. They faced Tadraem from behind the Breeders.
A young Ereubinian boy, carrying an armful of white robes, walked up to Garren and handed him one. He did the same with the remaining three. Tadraem walked around to Aiden, after instructing the humans to turn around, and began to dedicate a human to him.
This had always been a curious ceremony to Garren. It was a high honor. He could feel the excitement swell in his chest. He watched as Tadraem took a small blade, the same one that was traditionally used in sacrifices, and held it to the girl's throat. He let it hover there for a moment, then gently sliced the skin, just enough for a drop of blood to form on the surface of her flesh. This was to signify that she had been saved for the noble purpose of continuing the lineage.
Garren was happy with his choice of a vessel for Aiden. While he didn't owe Aiden an apology, he didn't carry any malice toward him, either. He'd aided Garren in his victory and deserved rewards. The vessel he'd chose was one of the more attractive girls he'd seen recently. She was tall, with long blonde hair and tan skin. He'd been told that her name was Sara.
As Tadraem repeated the tradition with each couple, he robed the human in white, signifying the Ereubinian's ownership of the breeder. He finally came to Garren and Cadence. He did something that surprised Garren. Instead of dedicating her himself, as he'd done with all the others, he held the blade out for Garren to take.
'My Lord, I believe it is fitting for you to make this dedication, as it is your will that now determines her life and death.' Tadraem pushed the blade closer toward him. Garren slowly reached out, taking it in his hands. It seemed an unusual thing for Tadraem to have done, but having never been through the ceremony himself he couldn't readily correlate the High Priest's actions with malevolence. He turned his attention back toward Cadence. Her eyes were deep, colorless wells. They reminded him a bit of the Laionai, and it made him wonder if the Laionai had souls. Or if they, too, were simply slaves to another's will. As the thoughts passed through his mind, Garren shuddered. Sacrilege. How could he even conceive such things in a house of worship?
He took the knife and placed it across the smooth skin of her neck. He could see a reflection of the candles burning. He began to recite the prayer of dedication.
'Mani suche dost nousmaede…' As the words sounded in the air, he kept his focus on the tip of the knife, fearful of bearing down too deep and ending her. He watched the flickering of the tiny orange and red flames dancing in the distance.
'Lio treksthis mordoutai…' his hand began to shake. He couldn't take his eyes away, nor could he finish his sentence. A clear image of the Adorian girl shone where Cadence's reflection should have been. There was no missing the fire in her hair or the ice in her blue eyes. He breathed slowly and steadily, reigning in his alarm. This was not the place to be haunted by such apparitions.
He continued speaking aloud the prayer, careful to make it appear as though he'd merely been reverent in his sudden silence. He finished pulling the knife across her neck, and held it down at his side. Tadraem took the cloak from his hands and placed it around Cadence's shoulders, pulling the hood over her head, as he'd done with the others. Garren barely listened as Tadraem ended the ceremony. The congregation then knelt, reciting prayers of thanksgiving to Ciara.
Garren stayed still as the others exited the sanctuary. The ceremony had taken a little over an hour, but it felt like mere minutes to him. After everyone had left the sanctuary, Tadraem came to Garren, who was still standing silently in front of Cadence. 'My Lord, are you ill? Shall I call for someone?'
Garren shook his head, his heart pounding in his chest. He hoped his words would not reveal how out of breath he was.
'I'm simply overwhelmed with anticipation — honored to receive such a blessing.' Tadraem didn't show any doubt in his expression, but instead smiled and gestured for Garren to leave with his new bride. Garren started to move, but felt his knees go weak beneath him. He leaned over to the railing behind him. 'I think we will stay here for a time, to thank the Goddess for her generosity.'
Tadraem seemed pleased with this answer and turned to leave them alone.
Garren knelt at the altar. His hands shook as he clasped them tightly together. He motioned for Cadence to kneel with him. He closed his eyes and began to pray. His whole body ached, sore from the tensions of the past few days, every muscle stretched taut along his bones. His head pounded and his skin felt cool and clammy. He was both angry and terrified. Nothing had ever felt beyond his control, and this was something that not only could he not command, he couldn't even begin to understand it. This was a night he was supposed to relish, and yet he was on his knees, begging for mercy. He became unaware of the words that were flowing past his lips, his prayers becoming fluid as they formed in his head. It was almost as if he'd fallen asleep, because he came to with a firm hand on his shoulder.
'What form of desecration is this?' The hand jerked him backwards, and Garren hit the floor on his side. He looked up to see Tadraem, who'd leaned down to face him. 'What blasphemy do you speak?'
Garren jumped to his feet, drawing his sword. 'Have you caught Aiden's sickness or have you just gone mad?'
Tadraem looked back at him, shocked. 'Garren, you cannot feign that you are unaware of what just came from your own mouth.' Garren looked at him doubtfully, not responding. 'You were speaking in Adorian!'
