Brave Story - Miyuki Miyabe [261]
“Oh, so that’s why you’ve come. Let me guess: you intend to rescue them?”
“Tell me where they are!”
“Search for them, if you must, my little zaza-aku.” Father Diamon held up his scepter in both hands, lifting the gemstone until it was at eye level. “Yet I fear you’ll find it quite difficult to rescue the unclean dregs of this town…when you’re dead!”
Father Diamon pressed the gemstone to his forehead and began to chant in a loud, resonant voice. “By the immortal cry of our God, bound in antiquity, by the power of his spirit, chained for eternity. Come now, honor those who are faithful to you. Bring destruction upon our foes!”
At once, all the stained glass in the cathedral shone brilliantly. It was as though lightning had struck each one of them at the same instant. Wataru lifted a hand to shield his eyes against the dazzling light. A shockwave passed through the floor beneath his feet, and he had to grab onto the back of the nearest pew just to stay standing.
“Lord above us, bring your judgment down upon those who would sully thy name!”
Father Diamon spread his arms, his voice a wild screech that echoed off the vaulted arches of the ceiling. In response, the stained glass shone again. In the glare of light, Wataru saw that each of the images of Cistina in the stained glass had turned. They were…
They’re looking at me!
As one, they held their scepters high in their right hands. The mirrors in their left hands reflected Wataru’s own image.
—Here, our enemy is come among us.
—Look, our enemy is here in our grasp.
As one, the eyes of all the Cistinas flared.
Crack!
Behind him, Wataru heard a clump of flowers dropping to the ground. Quick as a whip, he whirled around, then froze.
Not again.
Before his eyes, the statue of Cistina was stepping down from its pedestal, knocking aside the flowers that covered its feet. Dropping down, it sounded like stone grinding against stone. Its hand holding the scepter was thrust out to the side like a great wing.
“Observe!” Father Diamon howled with laughter toward the ceiling. “See our glorious Lady’s wrath at the false god’s defilement of her holy ground!”
The pupil-less eyes of the stone Cistina turned toward Wataru. He could feel rage and hatred boiling from those smooth gray stone orbs, rooting him to the spot.
The stone idol walked across the floor, mirror now held over her head. She swung the scepter up behind her, like a tennis player making a backhand shot. A great blast-wave burst from the tip and shot down the length of the cathedral. A wind smelling of poison and thorns buffeted him. The back of the pew directly in front of him was cut clean in two, like some stage magician’s trick. Fragments of wood rained down on Wataru.
Without a word, he turned and ran.
“Yes, run, run, unclean wretch! Do you fear the judgment of God? Does it frighten you? There is no place in this cathedral where you may hide!”
As he shouted, a second blast-wave shot across the room. Wataru dove headfirst to avoid it. The sleeve of his shirt ripped, and he saw two or three rows of pews tossed up into the air.
Fthunk. Fthunk.
With each step of the stone Cistina, the cathedral floor quaked. She was only three rows away from Wataru now. Behind her, Father Diamon withdrew, holding his scepter aloft, and resumed his prayers.
Another blast-wave struck. Wataru dodged in the nick of time, but it ripped his left ear lobe as it shot past his head, sending a fine spray of blood across his cheek.
If I slip and fall, I’m done for.
The eyes of Cistina were fixed on him. The scepter swung again. Wataru drew his sword, and, using it like he had in the Swamp of Grief, he fired a magebullet at the onrushing blast-wave.
The blast-wave came straight for him, kicking up fragments of wood in its wake. Thankfully, Wataru’s magebullet deflected the attack and sent it ricocheting back at Cistina. The collision between the blast-wave and magebullet formed a stunning white crescent-shaped barrier for the briefest moment. Absorbing the blow, the stone god wavered for a second before resuming her stride.