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!"
I barely listened to her, busy going through my list of skills. Wrong, wrong, all wrong... how about the Destructive Touch? Take that! Ruata jerked with the charge. A dozen red-hot mandibles sunk into me, admittedly unable to deal me any damage as immunity still worked.
"Heh! Don't touch him. It's more fun this way."
Oh, well.
How about Macaria's Voluntary Death? But what could it give me apart from the loss of experience and a few gained seconds? I was going to resurrect right here anyway, and it had a one-hour cooldown... Why, oh why had I changed the resurrection point? In the future, I should never, but never bind in places I had no control over. Whatever could I do? If only I had a hotline to God! Having said that... Appeal to Gods!
"Help me, O Fallen One! It's urgent! It's too fucking urgent!"
Max, his unhappy voice boomed in my head, if this is about... Wha-what? Who? Who dared to-
Bang! The outer dome resonated with a blow. Bang! A drop of sweat rolled down Ruata's temple. She narrowed her eyes, catlike.
"So your petty little god has decided to bring on the cavalry? Well, tough! This is the Impregnable Dome Shield!" she stuck out her arrogant chin.
Bang!
Not Impregnable, actually, the Fallen One murmured. But it'll take some work. Fifteen minutes at least. The weaving is too complex, you can't just break it open, we'll have to push through it. Macaria babe, help me!