It was always the junior Sister’s fault.
A whisper of disdain wove itself through the Mother’s voice when she admitted, “Were it my will, I would keep you both here, tending to the temple while your punctual Sisters see to the more important tasks. But…”
Talia’s heart fluttered. She could hardly dare to hope. Where were they to be sent? Were they to join their two Sisters in Elmoria? Journey to Kuni? To Drakmor to be with Princess Mariana? She had never known anything beyond the compound, beyond Ja’ni.
Now, she might very well see the world.
“The Lady demands I send you both to Mysai, to join Sisters Yara, Nadia, and Shula in their assault on the fort,” the Mother finished, sounding displeased with this turn of events. “You will leave in the morning.”
Talia’s head snapped up, her eyebrows knitting together. “But—” she started to protest before Skatia’s arm snaked out and her fingers clamped around her wrist like a vice. Her Sister showed no mercy as she squeezed hard enough to bruise, fingernails digging into flesh.
Gritting her teeth, she bit back a yelp of pain. Witches should feel no pain. Fire could not burn them, after all. Cuts from mere fingernails should not faze them either.
The Mother shouted with such force, the candles flickered, “The Lady has spoken. And so have I. You will all leave in the morning.” The older woman fixed her with an acidic stare, as if daring her to speak out of turn, when she added, “All glory to OurLady Below.”
“All glory to our Lady Below,” she echoed along with her Sisters before prying herself from Skatia’s grip. Her wrist smarted. Droplets of blood welled, staining her tawny skin. She ignored it all—the pain, the blood—and turned away, making for the darkness of the night beyond without a glance spared for Skatia or a word offered to any of her other Sisters.
Malik and Hazim followed as always. Her loyal dogs. Her silent shadows.
The moment the cool night air washed over her, bringing with it the distant sounds of music and laughter, she let her mounting frustrations boil over. She wanted to scream. She wanted to set fire to the thick hedges full of sweet-smelling roses ringing the temple grounds. How heady their scent would be then, when they were aflame, smoldering like incense.
The burbling of the fountain at the center of the garden guided her onward, leading her toward its familiar silhouette: a deep basin crowned by a lithe woman clothed in flowing robes. Tall. Strong. Confident.
The very first witch.
Talia’s hands balled into fists.Why? Why was she being sent toMysaiof all places? Why not distant Kuni with its misty forests and strange people? Why not Elmoria to see it with her own eyes before her Sisters burned it to the ground? Surely Yara, Nadia, and Shula could breach the outer walls of Mysai without her assistance.
A sudden presence swept through her mind like a shadow. Dark. Cool.
It is not for you to question my will, child.
Pain exploded just behind her eyes. Her knees crumpled, pitching her into the gravel ringing the fountain. Neither of her Witchsworn moved to catch her, nor to help her up. Because she had not ordered them to do so.
The small stones bit into her shins through the fabric of her robes as she bowed her head low. Tears misted her vision. She still was not accustomed to the sensation of her goddess speaking to her.
The Lady deigned to speak toher.
A soft chuckle unfurled within her thoughts.Soon, She promised yet again.All will be revealed soon. Sooner than you think.
And suddenly, Talia was no longer in the garden. The sounds of the fountain melted away. The gravel beneath her disappeared. She was in the air, looking down at an ancient fort ringing a seaside city.Mysai. It could only be Mysai. She reeled, hardly believing what she was seeing.
The banner of Elmoria—a golden stag rearing against a blue field—cracked in the wind, still flying from the fort’s towers. But Arath’s army stretched as far as the eye could see upon the dunes beyond the fort. A sea of tents and lights that shimmered far below, filling her heart with hope. She had been right. Soon, Mysai would fall.
Yes,the Lady agreed on Her oily hiss, Her voice stirring against the back of Talia’s neck like a cold breeze.Soon, Mysai will be mine. All of it. Including the old city. Including what’s buried deep beneath.
Buried?Talia asked, turning about mid-air to try and catch a glimpse of the Lady for herself. But when next she blinked, she was back in the garden. In the gravel. Her Witchsworn looming over her.
Yes, buried,the Lady whispered, each word dripping directly into Talia’s thoughts.There is something hidden beneath Mysai, my dear child. Something important.
Suddenly, Talia heard the distant trickle of water on the wind. She felt a rush of stale air ruffling past. Her thoughts whirled with the impression of something waiting in the shadows beneath Mysai—in ancient tunnels long forgotten.
A treasure of some sort. Something priceless.
Something…dangerous.
A weapon, yes,the Lady agreed again, sending a trill of excitement fluttering through Talia’s veins.And youwillbring it to me.
Chapter eighteen
