Chapter 15: The Sacrifice
Serenica did hug the woman, three times, and they passed the stone back and forth, seeking comfort from each other, telling stories about curses broken long ago.
They were starting to talk about the actual details of blood sacrifice, a certain trick that neither of them had used due to its taboo nature, when a knock on the door startled them and made Ledula quickly put the stone away.
"It is I," Izil said. "We're in a hurry! Ledula, come quick!"
Ledula sprinted towards the door. Serenica followed.
Izil managed to finger the complicated impromptu lock open and as the door let him through, he fell down, blood spurting from a large hole in his chest.
Ledula made a strange gesture towards the hole in the ground that was used as a privy.
Serenica peeked through the doorway and saw a few men of the city watch coming their way, one with his gun still smoking from the fresh kill.
Serenica had little time to react. She jumped in the hole and waited for Ledula.
She didn't follow her.
Serenica found herself standing in various different liquids up to her knees. She thanked her stars for making her a healer with a strong stomach.
The liquid was draining somewhere, though, the hole was a tunnel, perhaps towards the nearest river.
Serenica set out to wade through the filth, downstream.
The smell got so overpowering so quickly that Serenica didn't even register anymore what she was walking in after she had walked and occasionally crawled for a quarter of a mile or so. This system was absurd, but perhaps the shack was a replacement for a finer house that had had more reason to utilize such a complicated system for waste disposal. In any case it was environmentally obnoxious to dump everything in the river. That's where Serenica thought it all went, the only proper river they had in Neul, one that had a million unofficial names. The fine citizens could have at least given it a real name, but no, this lifeline, this absolute gem of a river was unnamed, without gods and masters.
Serenica decided to call it Filth River.
She sensed a light bursting through from the other end of the tunnel. It was a pale, occult force, made of moonlight and danger and she correctly deduced it was still nighttime. She did not actually see the light yet, but she sensed it, like witches often did, and she cursed her inability to make such premonitions in useful areas.
The tunnel got wider and larger altogether, and before long she was standing at the end of it, on a narrow strip of land next to the river. The crescent moon painted the landscape with silver. The currents of waste joined the waters and right there, very near to Serenica stood Herderg's house. Herderg was an old former witch, having given up the ways long ago.
Even though Serenica knew an elder like her to be sleeping, she was overjoyed by the sight of the cozy little cottage. She threw her bag safely on dry land and began to slowly make her own way towards the bank of the river.
She slipped.
The waters swallowed her up, not letting her catch her breath, not for a moment, and they pulled her down, taking charge.
Serenica was not that much of a swimmer. An immediate fear of death overcame her as she tried to regain her composure and remember which way was up.
Lack of air did something to her that no pistol, knife or threat could do. It was the worst, most instant, most intense panic of all – not being able to breathe.
Serenica swallowed some water and everything went black.
"What's that smell about you?"
For a moment Serenica had no idea who she was or where she was.
Then she remembered something.
"The filth, I fell in the Filth River," she said.
Herderg shook her head. "You're always in some kind of trouble. I wonder how you are even capable of surviving everyday life. Do you feel better now?"
Serenica felt no liquid in her lungs. She had probably coughed it all out earlier while not fully conscious.
She was in the cottage with Herderg. Her clothes were wet but her bag was resting on the floor near her. That was no small victory. In that bag she had everything necessary for a long voyage. In addition she felt the euphoria of waking up after blacking out. Indeed, it was a glorious feeling, as if she had been reborn and the world been made in a better way in her absence.
"I certainly do feel better now. How on earth did you find me?"
"I was patrolling the area for the sake of the city watch. Bloody paranoid troglodytes sticking their nose up everyone's business."
Serenica had missed Herderg dearly. She didn't remember why she never visited her.
As she was recovering from her watery adventure, Serenica strolled around the house in her new clothes that were as comfortable as they were old. From the look of occult paraphernalia lying around, it seemed that Herderg had not, in fact, given up witchcraft.
Serenica asked her about this.
"It'll drive everyone up the walls and in the corner, this witch hunt. I don't believe not doing spells will do us any good. They'll kill us regardless. I'll want to stick a big curse up Kinley before that happens."
"You know, I gathered some information about her," Serenica said. "She's worried that she'll never give birth to a healthy baby for some lanky royal if she doesn't get rid of us."
"Absurd. Utterly absurd. It was on her watch that this started."
"I need to get some money," Serenica blurted out. "I need to get myself inside the Blue Girl."
"Watch your mouth, young lady."
"You don't happen to have any?"
"No. But I can do something to help you."
"Shouldn't a lady of your age be asleep at this ungodly hour?"
Herderg shook her head, and her silvery curls glittered in the candlelight. There was still some moisture left on them.
"I can't sleep. Not while I'm worried out of my mind."
Herderg said that they should make a blood sacrifice. Serenica got scared. That was the method of deadrousers and old Raelian wives, both of which were terrifying groups to be associated with.
She knew that using blood in witchcraft drew in all kinds of spirits. She knew that if the actual Mother of Worms existed, it was death that she was drawn towards. Serenica visualized her for a moment, a beautiful corpse, made alive with the movements of maggots, bloating and deflating in the rhythm, the tide of decay.
"You've become such a coward," Herderg growled. "If you're not going to do it, I will."
The woman went somewhere and came back with a dead mouse.
"Wait! If you're going to do it anyway, at least let me participate."
It felt safer somehow to be a willing participant in this blasphemous act than a witness. Serenica did feel a strong urge to throw the poor mouse in the river, for the water belonged to the dead, as they said.
They wrote their will in blood and twitchleaf juice. They had decided it was best if they focused their attention on gathering as much power and protection as possible to Serenica. She was the best one in Neul. Those words seemed so meaningless when she had to run like a sewer rat all around the clock.
She was the best hope for all of them, and that sounded so desperate to her.
Herderg put some salt in a circle. They stepped in and anointed all relevant body parts with the blood and the twitchleaf. Of course, they were naked at this point. There was little sense in blood magic if one wasn't willing to get naked. Serenica took the bag she kept her money in and dropped some red liquid on it, too. Money was a form of power as well. Then she drew a sigil she had often used for courage, she drew it on her chest, kissed her fingers and pressed them on the sigil. She drew a different sigil on her forehead, which was difficult since she couldn't exactly look in the mirror. Everyone knew better than to look in the mirror while doing magic.
Herderg had done similar things, and when they were ready, they signed the contract.
Gifts
-- Gift
received Weekly Power Status
-- Power
Ranking 
-- Power
stone