The stolen cube shatters in Cheapgrim's hand and its callingspell spirals around the burial hill. Eternities pass. The spell sinks in. For hours Cheapgrim prays.
And Galia wakes.
Human, it rumbles.
Cheapgrim fists his trembling hands. "Great One," he pleads. "Your enemies approach. Feigning a wedding party."
Scarlet eyes flare within deep sockets. The bonegod's snarl rides an osseous splattering dustspray. Desssstroy.
Galia thrashes free of its prison, the splintering clatter obliterating Cheapgrim's triumphant cry.
But first, Galia growls, I feed.
Cheapgrim stands stricken, a sculpture in skin.
How could he ever have believed his vengeance would require no price?
This was a 100-word story challenge from www.reddit.com/r/fantasywriters. Write a 100-word story with a beginning, middle, and end; the story must contain the words cube, heap, hill, sink, and splatter.