No, he was right, but … “You cannot get into trouble on my behalf. You have your brother to think about.” And then, because his eyes still disagreed, I added. “Besides, I’m married now and nothing you do can change that.”
He flinched as though I’d struck his cheek, then retreated, shoulders slumped like a wounded animal. A heaviness slowed my pace as I walked away from him, sure I’d lost a friend.
13Tanith
Twice a year, the entire city went to the temple for a ritual of prayers and animal sacrifice. The rite did not surprise me, for there were temples and priests in Solynn. But I had been unprepared for the violence with which the priests butchered a goat and carved out its insides while blood poured over the floor. I’d had to close my eyes so I wouldn’t vomit. When I had peeked at Lord Faren, he was watching with rapt attention, almost as if he enjoyed the sight of blood. After that, I’d only gone to the temple when forced.
Now, I slipped through the side entrance, connected to the palace by a short hall. Closing the door gently behind me, I peered into gloom. The candles burned low, and an offering smoked on the altar where two priests kneeled, likely praying for deliverance from the Piper. Walking on my tiptoes, I dared not breathe lest the priests look up and see me.
Even though the head priest—and the sorcerers—were with Lord Faren, I feared discovery. It occurred to me as I crept toward the curtain, that although I was aware sorcerers existed, I hadn’t seen one until the night of the bats. The night everything went wrong.
I ducked behind the black curtain, expecting more priests, but the space only revealed more candles and four doors. I hesitated. They were all closed and anyone might be behind them. I had to make a guess that wouldn’t get me caught. It wouldn’t be one of the first two, I decided, for those doors were too close to the outer walls of the temple and might be storage or prayer rooms.
The door directly in front of me led further into the temple, so I turned the knob and slipped inside. Torches flared on the other side, revealing a staircase leading down into the void. Swallowing hard, I started down, the scent of smoke and sacrifice giving way to stale air and something else I couldn’t put a finger on. The stairs led down, down, down. I assumed I was underground with the heavy earth pressing around me. Sweat prickled on my neck, and I had that same odd sense I’d had when I’d been in the crypt.
Vibrations in the air made goose bumps pebble on my arms and when I reached the bottom, I was panting. Arched double doors rose before me, flanked by torches. In the poor light, it was difficult to make out the designs on the doors, but I guessed they were similar to the ones my uncle had caught me examining. Enchanted doors. Oren desperately wanted what was behind them, and a spark of curiosity overrode my fear.
I pressed my palm against stone and searched for a knob, a handle, anything to open the doors with. There was nothing. Even though I could see the crack where the hinges were, the solid mass didn’t even reveal a keyhole. My heart sank. The answers were so close, just on the other side of the wall, but I needed magic to access it. If I were a warrior, I’d go upstairs and threaten the priests with my dagger. Didn’t Oren say his power would protect me?
The stone shuddered, and I backed away, eyes darting to the shadowed corners. I sprinted toward the blackness just as the doors swung open. Bright, white light blazed and two sorcerers strode out, their long robes whispering against the ground. Instead of golden staffs, both carried vials in their hands and moved swiftly up the stairs.
My mouth went dry with the knowledge of what I had to do. If they caught me, I prayed Oren’s magic would protect me. As the doors started to close, I dashed inside and ducked down, making myself small in case anyone was on the other side.
It took my eyes a while to adjust to the brightness, which came from the ceiling. Icicle shaped stalactites hung down, glowing with a blue-white light. It was beautiful, but the light had an odd quality to it. Vibrations hummed, making the hair on my neck stand on end, and I wrinkled my nose against the scent of coopery iron and a faint rot. The cave was crisp, cold, and I rubbed my arms, wondering if I’d descended into the mountainside.
The layout was similar to the temple. Columns thrust toward the ceiling, covered in runes. In front of me on a podium rose the altar, and the halls beyond—lit with that same light—led deeper into the cavern. I’d done it. I’d made it into the vault. And then, with a pang, I realized I was not alone.
I slapped a hand over my mouth to keep from crying out. A creature lay on the altar, staring at me with orb-like eyes. Pressing my back against the wall to make myself smaller, I tried to comprehend what I was seeing.
In the temple, the priests conducted rituals that involved animal sacrifice. Down here, what lay on the altar was vaguely human with two arms and legs attached to an unnaturally skinny, skeletal-like body. The shape of her naked body revealed her to be female. I blinked, rising slowly to my feet as I took in the way she lay—hands and feet bound, blood dripping from a wound in her side, staining the alabaster stone. Her skin was so pale it appeared translucent, and the blood running through her fragile veins wasn’t crimson, but dark blue.
She was bald. Either her head had been shaved or her hair had fallen out because of malnourishment. I sucked in a breath when I noticed her ears, pointed, just like Oren’s. Her face was heart-shaped, but her eyes were mere orbs of a dull bronze, revealing fear and pain and exhaustion. How was she still alive?
I thought of my uncle’s violence—the shock of his slap, the pain of his punch, and the delight in his eyes when he saw blood. Was this what he did? Kept one of the Others under lock and key where no one would find her and used her for sport and pleasure? It was too much to think about, and my stomach twisted for the second time that day, bile rising as dark thoughts scurried around in my mind. My limbs shook and then a voice was in my head.
Help me.
I jerked. Staring. She’d just spoken to me.
“I… I… ” I swallowed, cleared my throat, and tried again. “Who are you? Is anyone else here?”
Help me.
The voice came again in my head, slower than before, as if she was losing consciousness. Those orb-like eyes closed and then came one last plea.
Find. The. Piper.
I stumbled back, scanning the hall. I wanted to flee from this horror, but a sudden fury drove me onward. This was wrong.
Conscious of how little time I had, I scanned the area for movement. Magic ran through this haunted dungeon, and I clenched my fists, pulse throbbing as hate for my uncle, the priests, and the sorcerers rose so thick in my throat, it threatened to choke me.
The vibrations became more intense as I walked down a short passage. The light swirled around me as though it were alive, studying me. My unease increased. I shouldn’t be here. I needed to run back to natural light and fresh air. Had I truly lived for two years with this horror underneath me? This was the reason bitterness impregnated the palace. No sooner had the thought passed through my mind, the passageway opened up into a nightmare.
High above me hung hundreds of cages, and within each one was one of the Others. They were all stripped naked, male and female, some bleeding, some with arms and legs bent at unnatural angles. Most of them were gaunt, but some had long, lush hair and full figures. The healthy ones had a golden glow about them, a shimmer of life, while the gaunt ones were weary, as though the life had been drained from them.
I waited for a voice in my head, but there was only my silent scream of anguish. How could someone inflict this horror on someone else? And then I understood. These must be the magic-thralls.
Turning on my heel, I fled.
