She grabbed at her virtually bare breast and squeezed it tight mimicking Ulgul's greedy hands. I gulped again, perfectly sympathetic to some Elder's son urges, and registered a surprising pang of jealousy.
The Princess raised her tearful eyes to me and pointed at the blood spots, the dagger and her lacerated chest, disrupting my concentration,
"Have I done all this for nothing? I have died two hundred and seventeen times today, hoping that the late Prince's throne would go to one who's worthy of it..."
She broke down, dissolving in tears. I sat next to her and stroked her hair. What was wrong with her today? Never before had she been so tearful—she used to be a true iron lady. Were things really so grim?
"Try to see it my way," I said. "I have a girlfriend. She would never understand this."
"Very well," Ruata snapped. "I agree. We can perform the divorce ritual now in front of Llos while we're still in the Temple. It's possible. We'd have had to go to her anyway to seal our marriage... or our divorce. But Laith, I beg you! Give me one year! Take the Prince's place while I find another worthy suitor. You won't have to do anything. Everything will go as it does now. I'll occupy myself with my clan's needs and you can continue doing your own thing. You will have full access to the treasury and the artifact vault. You will also be able to take command of my cutthroats whom you like so much. I just hope," she forced a sad smile, "that you'll be fair and just and you won't leave the clan without money or warriors. The House of Night will never forget your help. We'll forever remain your friends and allies of your clan. Please. I beg of you..."
Again she buried her tear-strewn face in her hands, her shoulders shaking. I stared around me helplessly. This was a very generous proposition. In essence, she was offering me to bear the Prince's title for a year with full control of their troops and finances. What could you not do, having five hundred elite Drow warriors under your command? Just by sending them on an Inferno raid, you could get hundreds of thousands in gold worth of loot on a daily basis.
I mulled over her offer and couldn't see a single catch. Any way you looked at it, it was all pros and no cons. Wasn't it about time, really, I got lucky without having to worry about being set up? I glanced at the weeping girl and shook my head, making up my mind. "Okay, Ruata. I can take the Prince's throne for a year. I promise to treat the clan's warriors with care and won't abuse my access to the treasury. But," I looked her firmly in the eye, "on the prerequisite that we get a divorce."
She nodded submissively. "Very well, Prince. Our marriage was attested by the gods so only they have the right to undo the knot. We need to die here in front of this altar, in order to face the Great Mother. She will separate our lives. After that, you'll be free from this marriage."
With a quiet smile, she pointed at the altar where the dagger still lay in a pool of blood. "Are you ready?"
I flinched. "Is it the only possible way? Stabbing oneself, you know... Besides, from what I hear, your goddess is quite a piece of work..."
She shook her head reproachfully. "The Drow have themselves a timid prince. Look at me!" again she pressed her hand to the round perfection of her breast. "I died hundreds of times today, all for you! So find the courage to sacrifice your life but once, even if only in farewell! Do not fear the goddess. I'm her priestess, you're safe with me. Just don't look her in the eye. Keep your head low and add some respect to your voice. It won't cost you anything and she likes that sort of thing."
She came to a small mithril chest and opened the lid, scooping out a generous handful of gems and flinging them into the red black flames that burned at the foot of the altar. The fire flared up, consuming the disappearing gems, even those that had missed their target. Lavender smoke swirled around, forming eight circles. Ruata grabbed the bloodied dagger and shoved it into my hand.
"On the count of three! We'll strike together. You strike me and I'll strike you. But wait! You're going to resurrect at the other end of the world! Immortal-" she spat out an expletive.
"Quickly!" she hurried. "We have less than a minute. I've just spent two hundred grand worth of gems so I'm not doing it again! You must change your resurrection point. I know you can do it. Why this hesitation? You're the First Priest in a temple of Darkness and a Prince in your own house. There's no other place in the entire AlterWorld that's safer for you. Come on, now!"
Succumbing to her logic and pressure, I scrolled through the magic book, found the necessary spell and activated it.
Ruata was watching me closely. "On the count of three," she nodded. "Close your eyes if it makes it easier for you. One," she reached behind her back for a second dagger. A very multifunctional dress she had on. "Two!.."
No idea what made me open my eyes. I saw her hand raised over my head and the dagger she clutched within it. I froze. The dagger was shaped as a spider, its eight pointed legs contracted together to form a scary-looking blade. I instantly looked up its stats,
The Spider Dagger of the High Priestess Llos.
He who dies from its blade spilling his blood onto the Altar, dies a final death, his soul forever cast into the Halls of Gloom.
"Three!" Ruata barked, taking a swing.
I caught her hand in full flight, barely stopping the fragile wrist. "What do you think you're doing? Are you out of your mind?"
She looked at me with pity. "You little fool. I wanted to make it easy for you. You wouldn't have felt a thing." She forced a smile and ordered someone, "Immobilize him!"
The enormous spider went for me, sinking its jaws into my hip. I yelped, burying the dagger I was holding into its back. The blade went right through not sensing any resistance. I pricked my hand on the spider's bristles as the dagger's blade slid back into its handle without hurting the monster.
Ruata laughed. I flung the useless dagger at her. Numbness spread over my body, paralyzing my limbs and forcing me to fall on my side.
"Lay him on the altar!" she ordered.
I heard the shuffling of many tiny feet. Something lifted me and threw me onto the icy-cold stone.
The priestess came over to me and looked into my eyes, stroking my cheek in sympathy. "Dear boy, did you really think that I could be interested in you? That you were worthy of taking the throne of the House of Night? Had you once seen our Prince, you'd have known that compared to him, you're like a mouse next to a dragon. My Prince..." her eyes misted, her lips opening in excitement. "Very soon, my lord," she whispered, "you need to wait but a little longer. Soon..."
I was frantically searching for a way out. Magic was out of the question. No good trying to cast a spell when lying on a stone—and paralyzed, too. Blindly I slammed the Shield of Faith button: 30-sec immunity, now think, think! I didn't know how high the risk of dying was from that scary artifact of hers but somehow I didn't want to find out. Fear clung to me, paralyzing my will and thought. All I wanted was to curl up, cover my head, and pee in my pants, whimpering with fear.
No way! I scowled, grinding my teeth until the enamel crunched. I bit my tongue that just happened to be in the way, clearing my mind with a flash of pain and hatred. There had to be a solution! I had to find it!
In the meantime, Ruata lowered her hand, menace in her stare. "So you want to suffer before you die? Then you can listen to what awaits you. My lord and my husband was slain in battle. The Fallen One did not show him mercy. My beloved couldn't respawn and stayed forever in the Land of Shadows. How I begged! How many sacrifices did I offer! The Fallen One turned a deaf ear to my pleas. But the Great Mother didn't! A new soul of the same status and potential can replace my husband in the Halls of Gloom—you! A naïve little idiot marked by the stamp of the powers that be, one that failed to live up to their expectations! A perfect substitute. Llos will be pleased with the sacrifice. She will accept your soul and send the Prince back to the world of the living. She has the power to do that. I have sealed our agreement with the blood from my eighty-eight voluntary deaths!"