Chapter eleven: the temple of doom

As Harry, Ron and Luna proceeded down the tunnel, both the flickering light and the sound of drums became more prominent. Harry became more and more curious, and scared, about whatever was waiting for them at the end of the tunnel.

They reached the end of the tunnel after fifteen minutes. By now Ron had rid himself completely of insects, and had done his best to heal the small injuries they had inflicted on him. As the sight came into view, Harry resisted the urge to swear.

The tunnel led them out onto an empty stone balcony, overlooking a huge underground cavern. Luna motioned for them to get down, out of view. So the trio lay out on their stomachs, peeking over the edge of the balcony to look over the sight below.

The main floor of the cavern was filled with people, about two hundred. The chanting, as well as the drumming, was coming from them. The men were bare-chested, wearing black trousers and red body paint, black scarves around their heads. A third of the host gathered were women. Much more fully dressed, the women were adorned similar to Harry's assassin, in dark clothing with red sashes around their waists and equally red designs painted on their faces.

There was a chasm in the floor, before the end of the chamber. Across the chamber was a platform, carved from dark brown stone, separated from the assembled people by the dark abyss. The platform was lit by two braziers of fire at each end. There was also a wide trapdoor, currently shut, set into the stone floor, at the statue's feet.

The statue was by far the most striking object in the room. Though Harry realized it was to a representation of Kali, it was very different from the hideous shrine he had stumbled upon earlier that day. It felt like so long ago. The statue was twenty feet tall, and carved in deep relief from shiny black stone. It was of a woman who was beautiful, terrible and otherworldly at the same time. Her face was so expertly carved that Harry half expected to see her speak, acknowledging her worshipers. Her mouth twisted into a smile, revealing row upon row of shark-like teeth. Her eyes were slits of blood-red ruby, her stone hair billowing out around her. Of her four shapely arms, her upper right held a long curved sword; her upper left the severed head of some grimacing demon, contrasting the goddess's beauty. Her lower two arms were outstretched over the platform, chains hanging from her grip. Connected to the chains sat a sort of metal frame, Harry felt all too sure that it was meant to confine human sacrifices. Though the goddess wore no clothing, she was adorned with the remains of the Thuggee's many victims. A necklace of human skulls hung down upon her chest, another bound about her waist. A rotting corpse hung from each ear.

Though Harry did not know it, the stone likeness bore a strong resemblance to the Angel of Death. The spirit of destruction who had been called down from heaven less than a year ago. During her two minutes on Earth, she had caused the horrible deaths of over fifty men, nearly including Harry himself.

At the statue's feet stood an alter, shaped like a giant skull. Glowing rocks sat in alcoves in its eyes and nose. They each glowed with an inner light. They looked out of place, something of pure good surrounded by so much evil.

Harry nudged Luna beside him. "The Sankara stones, three of them, at least." He whispered. She nodded.

"This is a Thuggee temple," Luna whispered. "They're worshipping the goddess right now. No one's seen anything like this for a hundred years." She sounded awed. Harry just felt sick.

"If it's all the same to you," came Ron's whispered reply, "I think I could have gone without."

Then all conversation was quickly forgotten, as the ceremony began.

A single man appeared on the alter, surrounded by a jet of smoke. He was imposing, not only because he was he larger and broader than any of the other Thuggee priests who had filed out onto the platform to stand behind him, but because of the aura of darkness around him, an aura that Harry could feel from his place on the balcony. He wore robes of blood-red cloth. On his head was the skull of a bison, gleaming white under the flames, which glinted in the black stone of the statue. Set into the center of the skull was a ruby, carved in the shape of a human skull. Though it was not said aloud, Harry felt no doubt that this was the high priest of the Thuggee (the man, not the ruby).

The high priest raised his arms to his multitude. In return, the chanted louder, repeating two Hindi words in time with the drums. Though Luna did not lean over to translate, Harry had a sick feeling that he understood them perfectly.

The chanting was joined by terrified screams, as two priests came foreword, carrying between them a struggling Indian man. Dressed only in only a loincloth, the man was terrified, fighting against his captors with all his strength. But they still held him fast.

The screaming man was brought to the metal frame, hanging from the goddess's hands. He was bound to it, metal shackles closing over his wrists and ankles, till he was unable to move. Harry watched as the high priest stepped foreword. Drawing a wand from somewhere in his robe, the high priest whispered spells as he waved it in intricate patterns over the man's figure.

When he had finished, the priest replaced his wand, and plunged his hand into the man's chest. Harry watched, fascinated and horrified. There was no blood, and when the priest drew out his hand, all that was left was a red mark on his victim's chest, the wound sealed.

Then Harry realized that the man's heart was clutched in the priest's raised hand. It was still beating; blood trickling down his muscular arm, and the man was, inexplicitly, still living.

The trapdoor slid open beneath the metal frame. Below in was a pit filled with magical blue flame. The man began to scream again as he was lowered slowly into the pit, this time in pain. Blue flames danced over the raised heart, as its owner disappeared from view.

The high priest allowed the agony of the sacrifice to continue for a few more minutes and then, stretching forth his arm, he crushed the man's heart in his sizable fist. The screaming stopped. The chanting halted.

As the men and woman filled out of the main chamber, the high priest slipped through a hidden door behind the statue. Harry watched mesmerized as the metal cage was hoisted back up. There was no sign of the sacrificial victim, save for dripping blood, and a few bones still held in the viselike grip of the shackles.

Before long, the chamber was empty. But still Harry lay there, staring.

"Come on," Ron whispered, nudging him. "We have to get out of here."

Harry shook his head. "I can't. Not yet. I'm not leaving without those stones." He gestured at the three Sankara stones, placed in the giant stone skull at the other side of the room.

"Are you out of your bloody mind," Ron hissed. "We have to go, now." Behind him, Luna caught Harry's eye, she understood.

"Look," Harry protested. "Just stay here. I'll be back in ten minutes, if everything goes according to plan."

Not that it ever does.