“The headaches are horrid,” I say. “And yes, I’ve been drinking water.” I’m not surewhatI expected from this meeting, but her bafflingly clinical questions aren’t it.
“The worst of it should be behind you in another day or two. In the meantime, I can make a cold compress with herbs. If you’d like.”
“Ah.” I shift uncomfortably in my seat. “I don’t mean to be rude, butthisis why you had me summoned? The way I was brought here, I thought I was in some sort of trouble.”
Something flares to life in her eyes. Rings flashing, she slings one elbow over the back of her chair and dips her chin to fix me with an intense glare.
It cuts right through me.
“I barely stopped you chasing merry hell yesterday. What else have you got up to that warrants such a guilty conscience?”
“Nothing!” I sputter. “I’m wondering what I’m doing here, is all. I already know this audience is unusual. If this is about yesterday—”
“Look,” she bites out, then catches herself. “If you don’t want to answer my questions, then say so. But yes. I thought we should formally meet after yesterday.”
“All due respect, priestess,” I say slowly, “I don’t want to answer your questions.”
Her arm drops. “There. Easy, right?”
Confusion mingles with the pain ringing in my head. “Right,” I murmur, staring.For gods’ sakes, fifteen minutes ago I was preparing to jump off theroof.
“Well. I’m sure you’re overwhelmed enough without me ambushing you. Is there anything you’d like to know? Any questions I can answer for you?”
“Yes. You can tell me what in the world happened in the gardens yesterday.”
There’s a pause before her low tone sends a ripple through me. “I’m only going to say this once, Tiss, so pay attention.” She spins her thumb ring against the adjacent finger. “There isn’t anything to tell becausenothinghappened yesterday. Get that fixation out of your head right now.”
Suddenly, she’s everybitthe hostile greenhouse woman. And since she’s made it abundantly clear she won’t tell me anything useful, I settle on asking about the lottery business next.
“Its formal name is the Ceremony of Induction. The nuns have a formal name for just about everything around here.”
“Nuns?”
“The sisters.” She rises from her chair. “The other high priestess and I call them nuns due to the vows they make us all take.”
I’m riveted to my seat, watching her fluid movements as she paces around the room.
In contrast to the jewelry, she’s dressed casually: a crisp button-down peeks from beneath a sleeveless cable-knit sweater. Her brown tweed skirt hits below the knee. “As for the ceremony, it’s when Eisha decides if you’ll belong to her and become betrothed to her service, or if you’ll be an acolyte to the temple instead.”
“What does ‘betrothed to her service’ mean?”
“There are two paths for new initiates to embark upon. That’s the path of personal, lifelong devotion to the goddess. As opposed to acolytes, who serve as liaisons between the temple and the people of the realm.”
“Do we get to pick?”
She halts near a two-person dining table, shooting me an ambiguous glance. “No. I told you. The goddess decides.”
“Oh.” My gaze travels over the curves of her bust and hips and her long arms and legs. “You mean…literally?”
“Yeah. Literally.” The corners of her mouth twitch.
“When does this Ceremony of Induction take place?”
“The night of the winter solstice.”
The next question falls out of me before I can consider it: “And it’s true that we all came here of our own free will?”
She looks up, her piercing gaze pinning me again. “Isn’t that what they told you? That you volunteered?”
