I bit my lip and looked away. Ainwir had taken in a girl of eleven and raised her for seven years. Seven long years. And for what? To toss her by the wayside, his troubles dumped on my head.
I’d been betrayed once before, and had learned nothing from Ainwir’s final lesson.
I was truly alone in this world.
An unlovable, wretched girl.
22
Chapter 22
Shortly after Eleos left me in ruins, someone returned and knocked on the door, rousing me from my thoughts. Setting aside my empty mug, I approached the door, hesitant to open it lest Eleos waited outside.
Yanking it open, I was met instead with his father.
The Grand Cleric stood in the hall, hands clasped behind his back. His fanciful hat, denoting his rank, was gone, allowing his neatly combed dark hair to fall free around his shoulders. I could have guessed from a glance that he and Eleos weren’t related—this man was everything harsh: hard lines and stern gazes.
“You’re awake. Good. Come with me.” The Grand Cleric ordered, turning on his heel.
Grabbing my shawl, I followed him out the door, glancing over my shoulder to notice neither of the guards followed us. Touching my arm where bandages bound my wound, I eyed the back of his head wearily.
“Where are we going?” I asked.
No answer came. Worried, I searched the shadows for hidden assassins. Hurrying my steps to keep up, I felt a rush of relief when he brought me to an empty prayer chamber.
The Maiden loomed over an altar, hair spilling from her hood onto her dress. Her hands were spread, watercascading through her fingers into the basin at her feet. Kneel sheets spread before her, but none were occupied.
Halting before the altar, the Grand Cleric turned to me. “Much is known about the Maiden Brizo. She lived among us for a short while, to cleave a path through the Empty and give us her blood.”
“Yes,” I said tentatively. “What’s your point?”
“The scripture is quite clear. She will return when again the Empty destroys the world, to guide those who remain to safety.” He took a step toward me. “Perhaps you have not realized, but there is still plenty of land left, filled with people and life.”
I glowered at him. “Did we not arrive with refugees from a destroyed outpost?”
“A small loss.” He waved a hand. “No lords have been claimed, no cities ruined. Another road can be drawn between us and Serifos.”
“How can you say that?”
“Because it istrue.” His eyes flicked over me. “You arrived with my son. How much do you know of him?”
“Little,” I admitted. “Eleos doesn’t like to talk about himself.”
“Unsurprising.” His father’s mouth drew into a hard line. “You claim to be under orders from the Archon himself. But why would the Archon choose a man like Eleos?”
“Because we had something to gain,” I said, taking a step back. “Pardons, in exchange for service.”
“Is that right? And what wasyourcrime?”
“I was an orphan, enslaved by the Guild.” I lied, offering a hint of the truth.
“A simple, unfortunate offense. But Eleos is far more than a mere heretic.” The Grand Cleric’s voice lowered. “The depths of his sins run deeper. And when I covered his crimes to save him? He blasphemed for all the world to see.”
“What. . . what did he do?”
“Do you know the truth of psyches?” The Grand cleric approached until he stood a breath away. “Their darkest, mostdifficult power? They control people. They slip inside your mind like puppeteers, steering your thoughts and emotions for you.” His eyes narrowed. “I must consider the possibility that you merely dance to his tune.”
“I. . .” I met his harsh gaze. “No! He’s done nothing of the sort.”
