“Are you all right, Tiss?” Sadrie’s voice barely registers in my ear, her soft touch on my arm distant.
“Fine,” I lie. “A little jarred by the fireworks.”
Seemingly immune to the excitement around us, the Second High Priestess holds my gaze in a way that feels as intimate as her hands on my body.
Our connection sears through my midsection while my conversation with Ghisele runs on a loop in my brain.
“From the looks of it, you’re at an advanced stage of ruin when it comes to her. Are you not?
“Excuse me,” I murmur, pulling out of Sadrie’s grasp and turning from Elodie’s smoldering stare.
Meandering to avoid my own panic, I try to breathe, try to clutch at the calm place inside of me. The joy of trying pickled blueberries and spicy pepper jam for the first time. Watching Sadrie twirl Imogen around until she collapsed into a dizzy heap. The exuberance of dancing through the courtyard just an hour ago. But desperation seizes me instead.
If I could outrun myself, I would,I think, off-key.
You can’t do that though, not really,proclaims the other Itissa.Try if you want to. I dare you.She’s gone in the next instant, dissipating like smoke in the wind.
It feels like I’ve been gut-punched.What in the miserable, esoteric hell is going on?
I’m still reeling from the possibility when a massive firework explodes practically on top of us. It booms like thunder after a close lightning strike. Everyone exclaims at the racket, pointing at the resulting aurora.
Stumbling along, wild thoughts tear through my head.
These splintered parts and pieces—the monster shifting behind my ribs, the taut thread connecting me and Elodie, theotherItissa—they’re clearly all flashes of themethat I used to be.
Suddenly, it’sabsurdthat I’ve not thought of it in those terms before now. It’s as if a fog has lifted from my brain—an intangible barrier whose width and breadth I was ignorant of until this very moment.
Whichmustmean—
Could I be trying to stitch myself back together?
As shell-shocked by that possibility as by the pyrotechnics, I absently observe my surroundings. I can’t ignore the spark ofterrified hope climbing up my throat or the nagging, awful idea that chases on its heels.
What if I remember myself and don’t like who I am?
Or… what?
“White sphere, Tiss.” My weak breaths steam the air. “White. Fucking. Sphere.” They have little effect.
When the last explosion fizzles, the prioress slaps her hands together sloppily. Everyone else joins in, and the clapping becomes raucous applause.
“Happy First Night to you all! I hope it has been a splendid one,” she cries, her cheeks flushed and eyes glazed. “Any girls betrothed to Eisha’s service are to come to bed now. There will be more celebrating in your private quarters for any who wish to partake.
“For you ladies pledged to the high priestesses”—she sways perilously, and Ailen elbows past Viv to her aid—“Maida and Elodie will take you to the Observatory presently. That way, Maida can show you her little party trick with the telescope. Please return to your quarters presently and change into appropriate attire.”
Having slurred her piece, she wobbles toward our residence on Ailen’s arm. The sisters fall in line behind her, leaving the Temple Guardsmen to round up the few remaining betrothed and herd them indoors like a flock of drunken chickens.
Lydia snags my eye as she passes, flanked on either side by guardsmen. The urge to bring her something to write with as soon as possible nearly strangles me. I know intuitively, reflexively, and beyond a shadow of a doubt that she’s the key to a puzzle I’ve been trying to solve since the day I woke up here.
The pulsing connection between me and Elodie intensifies, alerting me of her proximity before she comes into view. Sure enough, Lydia and her escort clear my sight line. A vacant space extends between us.
Vacant, but not empty. The thread between us burning like a red-hot iron spike through the gut, I return Elodie’s fervent gaze.
Chapter 40
Elodie
“Only a little further!” Maida calls over her shoulder.
