One Day in a Small-Town Desert, chapter 7, page 4

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Vata Kılímí picked her ceremonial knife off the altar, where it had lain beside her dog. The wooden hilt of the knife fit comfortingly in Vata’s hand. As she twisted her wrist, the steel blade reflected the flickering flames from all eight braziers, the dancing energy of light intermingling with Névazhíno’s gathering essence.

The blonde girl said something which cut harshly through the moment, but Vata did not comprehend the words.

She faced the young woman and said, “Be quiet now, dear.”

The girl’s mouth fell open, but she snapped it shut with a frown and remained silent.

Vata turned back toward the altar and its two sleeping creatures: the dark-haired young man with broken legs and a blood-soaked bandage over his trousers and the Kılímos’ eldest dog, who was merely sedated.

Vata held the knife up before her eyes. Along the top edge of the blade, delicate tracery caught the shimmering illumination. The decoration matched closely the carvings around the edge of the stone altar. Vata reached out with her left hand to touch the cold rock, tracing along the smooth zigzags and familiar curlicues with her fingers.

Her fingertips bumped against the base of a small chalice of purified and sanctified blood--a mixture of human, dog, horse, cow, rabbit, sheep, and several other animals. She wrapped her hand around the thick stem and held the chalice aloft alongside the knife.

She exhaled slowly. Her heart calmed. Her soul relaxed to match her body. The lifeforce of Névazhíno strengthened within the chapel, filling the room with a musky scent.

When her spirit was ready, Vata intoned, “O Névazhíno, God of Animals, Creator of All Creatures, Love of the Universe, I request Your presence.”

A low hum filled the chapel, barely discernable. The braziers guttered briefly from a circular breeze.

Vata tilted the chalice. The sanctified blood poured over the dog in a thin stream, coursing from head to hindquarters. It seeped into his thick fur, splashing only a little, staining the dark brown a scarlet-black.

“O Névazhíno, please hear the words of Your humble servant, one of Your devout worshippers, one of Your faithful animals.”

The breeze tightened around the altar, tugging at the ends of Vata’s bathrobe, pulling white hairs loose from their clasp, strengthening the animal musk till it nearly overpowered her.

She focused on the ceremony. The knife, long and sharp, pressed against the sleeping dog’s throat. His skin dented, then split, fresh blood spilling around the bright steel. The knife dug deeper, slicing through his neck until it found the artery. Crimson spurted past the dog’s head, over the boy’s broken legs, and into the surrounding darkness.

The hum transformed into a roar, a mosquito growing to a bear. Dust kicked up off the floor in a miniature demon-wind around the altar.

Vata inhaled deeply, drifting away on the thick odor of a thousand animals.

“O Névazhíno, most pure and noble of all the gods, I beseech You to hear me, listen to me, speak to me. I beseech You to bind the lifeforce of one of Your creatures into the lifeforce of another of Your creatures. Please heal this human being’s legs!”

Lightning jumped from the braziers to the altar, to the knife, to the air itself, swirling away to be melded with the palatable essence of Vata’s god. The dog’s blood flew on the wind, individual iridescent spheres of red liquid floating slower and slower despite the ever-intensifying wind. The divine spirit of Névazhíno whirled around the altar, Vata, and the two intertwined souls on the stone.

“O Névazhíno, I feel Your presence. Will You accept this sacrifice?”

Vata looked up at stars, a moonless night sky. A giant bear with insect wings and the head of a dog towered over her, His eyes glowing with every color imaginable and many others as well. The crackling vortex continued to whip around Névazhíno and Vata, enlarging the flames and knocking the grass flat.

The god’s voice resonated throughout every cell of Vata’s body. “As you wish, My faithful.”

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