The mare she had raised from a tiny foal was gone and the high priestess was standing over her with a malicious grin on her face.
“She should have died by the knife,” Betina said dispassionately as Trin wept into the dead horse’s mane. “Your punishment will be the worse because you were unable to do your duty.” Then she raised the weapon again and pointed it at Swift who was pawing the ground uneasily.
“No—no! Not Swift too!” Trin jumped up and tried to stop her—tried to grab her arm and push the blaster up and away. But before she could get to the priestess, there was another flat, lethal sounding zzap and Swift, too, gave a piercing neigh and fell to the ground. His big brown eyes rolled up at Trin as if to ask, Why did you do this to me? And then he collapsed and was silent.
Trin fell in a heap, weeping in the dirt of the temple garden. How often had she sought refuge and comfort from her pets? How often had she come home to see them cantering across the field to her, eager for her touch and the sound of her voice? When her mother was angry with her or disappointed at something she had done wrong, they were always there, Swift and Silk, waiting to comfort her and give her their unconditional love and affection. And now, in the space of a few heartbeats, they were gone—sacrificed to pay for her sins.
Me—they were killed because of me. It’s my fault…all my fault…The Goddess hates me…I don’t blame her—I hate myself!
Her shoulders shook and the sobs tore from her throat. Trin wished it was she who lay there dead in the withered grass. After all—she was the one who deserved death. Not the gentle, sweet pets she had raised from foals. Not the creatures she had loved from childhood.
The temple garden was an enclosed space, shut away from the rest of the world by its high, gray walls. As Trin lay there weeping by the bodies of her mare and stallion, she had never felt more trapped or more hopeless in her life.
“Why?” she whispered through her tears, turning her face up towards the priestess. “Why did you take them? It should have been me—you should have killed me.”
“You certainly deserve death but I promised your mother we would try to cleanse you of the defilement first.” Betina’s lip curled in disgust. “As we are not yet done, you must live a little longer. Now dig,” she snarled, kicking Trin in the side. “With your hands. You must bury these creatures as a fitting sacrifice to the Goddess of Judgment—though not nearly as fitting as if you had done your duty and sacrificed them yourself.”
Trin looked around her dully. That had been hours ago. She had been digging steadily ever since and still the hole she’d made still wasn’t half big enough for even Swift, let alone Silk as well. The dirt and stones of the temple garden was as hard and ungiving as the head priestess’s heart. Trin’s hands were bleeding, her nails chipped and torn. There was mud and blood mixed into the long welts which scored her body and she felt she would never be clean again—either inside or out.
“Please,” she whispered, looking up at the high priestess. “Can I…could I just have a drink of water?” Between the blood she’d given at the alter of the Goddess and all the tears she’d shed, she felt horribly dehydrated.
“No,” snapped Betina. “A Defiled One must strive to cry and sweat and bleed the impurities from her body—she must not replenish herself until her purity is restored.”
“But…what else can I do? What will it take to restore me?” Trin dared to ask. “I don’t know what else the Goddess wants of me…and you’ve already forced me to give her something so precious…” Her eyes wandered to Swift and Silk, lying motionless beside her.
The priestess sneered. “You think the death of a few animals can appease the wrath of the Goddess of Judgment? Let me assure you, we have barely scratched the surface of your sin.”
“But—” Trin began again. Just then, however, one of the other, lesser priestesses came out of the temple and whispered something in the Head priestess’s ear.
Trin wondered what she was saying but the long hood the priestess wore over her face muffled the noise.
“Really?” Betina’s beady eyes widened and she stared speculatively at Trin. “Is that truly so?”
The priestess nodded solemnly.
“Well. This requires some thought. Come.” The high priestess motioned in the direction of the temple. Then she threw a glance back at Trin. “You—keep digging. Oh, and think about what you would like to sacrifice next, at the ceremony tomorrow morning.”
“Sacrifice next?” Trin could hardly believe her ears. She motioned at the dead bodies of her beloved horses. “What are you talking about? What more can I give—what does the Goddess require of me before she’ll forgive me?”
Betina’s eyes flashed.
“She requires that which is most precious to you. Tell me, something girl—did you love the male you allowed to defile you?”
Though she knew it would get her into worse trouble, Trin couldn’t bring herself to lie. Lifting her chin, she looked Betina in the eye.
“Yes,” she said simply. “I loved him.”
The priestess looked disgusted.
“Loving a male…I thought as much. Well, if he were here the Goddess would require that you give him as your pets were given. But since he is not, you must part with something else—some part of yourself you would rather not lose.”
“I…I’ve already cut off my hair and given my blood and been permanently scarred,” Trin whispered, touching her ragged fingertips to the bloody welts on her face.
“That is only the beginning. You must decide what you wish to lose. Some of the Defiled choose to cut off a finger…some an ear. Occasionally we have a particularly remorseful candidate who elects to put out an eye.” She shrugged. “The choice is yours.”
Trin looked at the priestess, her heart galloping in her chest. She had heard of such practices—all the Daughters of Zetta Prime who were sent to the temple for religious instruction had—but somehow she had never imagined they would be applied to her.
“You…you want to cut off my finger or poke…poke out my eye?” she whispered in a dry, breathless voice.
“Oh no, my dear…” Betina smiled maliciously. “I want you to cut off one of your fingers or poke out one of your eyes. This sacrifice must be made by you. Otherwise the Goddess will not accept it.”
“But…but…” Trin shook her head, unable to believe what she was hearing.
“Now I must go. Keep digging. Those beasts won’t bury themselves.”
And the high priestess turned, leaving Trin alone in the garden with only her dead horses for company.
Chapter Thirty-four
“Oh honey, look at you—you’re a mess!”
“I hate to say it but Charlie’s right—you’re in a state.”
Trin looked up blearily, trying to find the source of the voices. It was dark in the garden—long past midnight she thought—and she had finally finished the grave she’d been set to dig. She’d been too weak, though, to push Swift and Silk into the huge hole. When she’d tried, a wave of dizziness had overcome her and she had collapsed at the side of the grave, breathing hard as the world faded to gray.
“Who…who are you?” she managed to croak, looking up at them. They were wearing the robes of lesser priestesses but she couldn’t see their faces.
“Someone who’s been watching you and who cares about you,” the first voice, called Charlie said firmly. “Just think of me and Becca as your guardian angels.”
“Come on, we’ve got to get her to safety—we should be able to sneak her out and get back to the ship before anyone notices if we hurry,” the second voice, who must be Becca said.
“No, I told you, Becca, she has to make her own choice. We can’t take her until she wants to go.”
“Just look at her, poor thing! Of course she wants to go.”