Beneath the Mask
by
Aliette de Bodard
I well knew that only human blood and human lives kept the end of the world at bay. I had abased myself before gods, offered them what they needed, from human hearts to flayed skins; I had wielded many obsidian knives myself in many sacrifices. But the concentration of images in that room seemed almost unhealthy.
Short story in Beneath Ceaseless Skies, Issue #8.