“To keep everyone here.”
“That’s absurd.” Countless questions fly through my head, not least of which is, “How, exactly, is it supposed to do that?”
Elodie strolls away, searching for something. “I’ll show you.” Pinning me with the kind of glare that cuts me to the core, she points to the ground at my feet. “Stay right there, Tiss.” Her gaze shifts to my companions. “All of you stay put. Don’t leave the cobblestones.Don’tget any closer to that arch.”
Cobbles curve beneath the arch, meeting hard-packed earth. The boundary separates the temple grounds from the footpath snaking down the mountain.
Her command brooks no argument. I tap my foot, giving my best impression of being tremendously inconvenienced. Secretly, a frightened sort of fascination buzzes through me.
Elodie picks something up off the ground near the Waymark. A long stick comes into view when she gets closer, grasped in her tapered fingers. “Watch,” she instructs before tossing it toward the arch’s center, immediately springing backward.
Every hair on my body stands up. As soon as it makes contact with the boundary where the cobbles end, the stick explodes in a crackling storm of sparks and flashes of electricity.
The rest of us leap back, and I let loose a shriek. The unmistakable odor of ozone mixes with the stench of burning wood.
“What on earthfor?” Is the only thing I can choke out.
“Before Deirdre got in the practice of casting the dome, there were always betrothed who ran away. Anywhere the cobblestones meet dirt is where it touches the ground. Don’t cross it unless you want to pay the consequences.”
Alarm is climbing to my eyeballs, suffocating in its scope. “Why would they run away?”
“Why didyouwant to run away?” she counters. “Why were so many girls upset yesterday when we first explained betrothal to Eisha’s service? Not everyone who submits to the ritual wishes to stay afterward. And not all magic is the light kind. Unfortunately.”
Shit. Shit. Shit.Given what I saw this morning, I suppose I can’t be surprised the prioress would think nothing of electrocuting someone. And I’m not the only one who’s horrified.
Mouth hanging open, Sadrie stares between the arch and the charred, flaming stick.
“What if somebody accidentally stumbles into it?” asks a wide-eyed Cordelia.
Elodie shrugs. “Many mistakes soon become regrets.”
“That isn’tfunny.” My breath comes fast and shallow, clouding the air around me.
“Am I laughing?”
She’s not, which somehow makes it worse. “That wouldkilla girl. What about the handmaidens? Imogen’s still a baby for gods’ sakes—she’d be toast!” Even I can hear the shrillness in my tone.
“The handmaidens know not to leave without Deirdre’s express permission.”
My pulse throbbing in my frozen fingertips, I stagger to one of the plaza’s retaining walls and sink onto a built-in bench.
“Oh, Tiss,” Sadrie hovers near. Her hand lands on my shoulder, the pressure of her touch grounding.
“Will it always be there now?” asks Cordelia. “How will visitors get through?”
“It stays in place until the temple reopens on the spring equinox,” says Elodie. “Visitors know well enough not to hazard up here before then.”
“And tonight’s the shitty winter solstice,” I mumble, more to myself than anybody.That’s an awfully long time to be so isolated. To be trapped!
I tug at my cloak’s clasp in a vain attempt to relieve the tightness in my chest. Another horrible idea occurs to me, and I pull out of Sadrie’s grasp. “What about Bibi and the finches? Will they be all right?”
“If Bibi’s on the temple grounds when Deirdre starts conjuring it, she decides whether she wants in or out. This year, she’s inside with us. I've never seen any birds hurt by it.” Elodie steps closer. “Actually, I think they can see the barrier in a way we can’t. Their vision is different from ours.” She lifts her chin to address the others. “Will you two please head back inside? I need to discuss something with Tiss.”
“Sure thing.” Sadrie casts a shrewd look over the priestess.
“I’m nearly frozen anyway.” Cordelia drapes an arm over the blonde’s shoulder, steering her away.
Elodie waits until they’re gone before squatting in front of me and grasping the bench on either side of my hips. The next time she looks at me, it’s with nauseating sympathy. “I really am sorry, Tiss. I can see everything’s been a lot for you.” Her breath is warm on my ice-cold hands, her shift to kindness almost as jarring as the magic murder dome revelation.
