“Something awful happened,” the priestess said to her, suddenly taking her hands. “You’re safe now, but you’re very sick. You must rest. And you must drink.”
The cup was in her hands again, and she nodded, taking another sip. Itwasdelicious, but made her tongue go numb.Things would be all right, though, numb tongue or not. Then she felt bile in her throat. “I don’t think I can.”
“If you don’t, you’ll remember the bad thing that happened,” the woman said with the utmost concern. “And then you’ll be crying again. Nobody cries here. It’s not polite.”
Amma pressed fingers to her face under an eye, puffiness there. “What bad thing?”
“Oh, see, no, I can’t tell you because that will make it worse. It’s better if you don’t remember. Don’t you feel better? Can you remember any bad things?”
Amma squinted. Bad things. There had been many. Or at least some…one? No, there wasn’t really anything in her memory except a boy. A very handsome boy who she loved, which wasn’t a bad thing at all. And yet.
“Drink.” The woman pushed the cup up to Amma’s mouth and water sloshed over her lips.
“I’m going to be sick,” Amma sputtered, stomach rolling over again.
“Oh!” The priestess stood quickly. “I’ll run to the kitchens and get you something to fill your belly, and then you can keep drinking.”
When the priestess was gone, Amma gazed down at herself again, hands shaking. Her heart thumped in her ears, and a little buzzing in the back of her brain told her something was off.
Magic. There was magic inside her. And it wasn’t…it wasn’t hers. But that was okay. Everything was okay. But maybe she shouldn’t have any more to drink. And maybe it wasn’t okay that things were okay.
How…how far away were the kitchens?
She placed the cup on the side table, and when she glanced downward, a mouse had suddenly appeared in her lap as if out of nowhere. Amma went to sweep him right off of her with a squeal but froze. “V-vanders?”
Pain shot through her hand as the creature bit down on her thumb. Amma reacted without thinking, flinging her hand, but the vaxin held on, his little body flopping around. Blood pooled where his long teeth pinched in, a throbbing pain running down her arm, through her veins and into her chest. Blood. Pain. Arcana. Love.
“Damien!” Haze cleared from Amma’s mind as she carefully eased Vanders into her hand, and he released her thumb. Her eyes darted to the cup filled with water, to the window set up too high to reach, to the robes she wore that were not her own. “Oh, those sneaky bitches.”
There were sounds beyond the door, and her heart raced. “I am happy to see you, Vanders, but you need to hide again.” The vaxin poofed into nonexistence, and she grabbed the jug. There was no basin to dispose of it, only a potted plant in the room’s corner, and that would have to do. She hustled over and poured half of it out before the sound in the hall came too close, and she had to sprint back to the bed.
“We’ve got rye bread and raspberries and goat cheese,” the priestess was saying as she backed into the room with a tray.
Amma sat up straight, plastering on a smile, the cup back in her hand and empty.
“Oh, you’re looking much better.” The woman set the tray on the bed and immediately filled Amma’s cup.
Amma nodded absently, corners of her mouth curled up, eyes darting across the room at movement there. The potted fern was growing so quickly she could see it. “Oh, my gods.”
The priestess’s smile faltered, and she began to look over her shoulder. “What’s wrong?”
Amma grabbed her arm, pulling her attention back. “I meant goddess. Isldrah, specifically. Isn’t she great? And this water’s just so good.” She brought the freshly filled cup to her lips but kept them tightly pressed together. Arcana prodded at hermouth, and she nearly sputtered back.
“I’m so glad!” The priestess gave Amma’s knee a pat and took the jug. “I’ll bring you more in a little while. Eat up, and tomorrow morning we’ll start on your studies. You need your rest tonight.”
Amma continued to smile stupidly until the door was shut, and then the grin plummeted off her face. “No chance, sister.”
CHAPTER 29
NO REST FOR THE WELL-BEHAVED
Amma couldn’t carry the fern from the room’s corner, the pot too sodden with the contents of multiple jugs of that frighteningly persuasive water, so she had to dig the plant out. The fern had tripled in size since she’d ferreted away what she’d pretended to drink in its soil, but it had hidden the liquid well, and luckily no one had questioned why her chamber pot was still empty, or why the little bush was sprawling so impressively all of a sudden. Throat dry, her jaw ached from all the ridiculous smiling she’d been doing when acolytes came to check on her throughout the evening, and now her arms would too, but she managed to pull the root-bound shrub away from the clay and carry it to the room’s center where she had the most space.
She took an appraising look around the little chamber in the darkness and quiet of the night, the light-colored stone, the simple and clean trappings, the book of Empyrean songs sitting on the foot of the bed. Was she really going to do this? Would the temple even allow it?
“Okay, Isldrah,” said Amma as she knelt before the plant, “I think we both know that whatever’s going on here probably isn’t what you intended.” She picked up the book of songs and flipped through it, looking for something appropriate. “And I get that this isn’t the way you’d probably like to fix things either, but I’m the best you’ve got, and, really, birds make their nests in trees all the time, so maybe Sestoth sent me to help.”
She stopped on a page that spoke of curing madness byrequesting the assistance of guardians devoted to Isldrah. Yup, that would work, it had to. She tore it out and set the rest of the book aside.
