“You need to rest for now, child,” Ma said, her hand firm on Aloisia’s shoulder. “You can worry about that when you are able.”
“What of the shaman?”
“He is still in a cell,” Tristan said.
Aloisia glared at him.
“There is other news…” he continued. “He was right, Lis. About the copies of the markings, about what it meant. The judiciaries didn’t follow his instruction. And a group of priests paid the price for it. If they had heeded his words, their deaths could have been avoided.”
Aloisia raked a palm down her face. The fools. Inari had spoken the truth and instead of listening to him, they allowed their hubris to cloud their judgement. The blood of the priests was on their hands and no one else’s.
“How did it happen?” she asked.
“The Forgotten Gods returned. Whatever magic set upon Brighde’s body must have been replicated in the markings, like Inari said. And that magic is what drew them to the priests. It’s the only explanation. Three dead and one left to tell the tale. They cannot deny the truth of it any longer, not when there is another account of these shadow creatures.”
Mavka crouched beside Aloisia. “From what I know, they have continued to question the shaman. It seems they have finally come to realise he is the only one who holds answers.”
“What of the map?”
Tristan shook his head. “I have taken the pages to him several times in the past couple of days. He will speak to no one.”
“No,” Mavka said. “He will only speak with you, Aloisia. He refuses to speak to anyone else.”
Aloisia rolled her eyes. “Doesn’t he know I am incapacitated?”
“He does. And he even offered to aid you, since he’s a shaman, but the judiciaries would not let him out until he had spoken. And so, they continued to go around in circles.”
Aloisia hauled herself up onto her elbows, gritting her teeth against the pain. “Then I’ll go. Now.”
Ma forced her back with ease. “No, you will not. You are in no fit state.”
“If there are answers to be had, then the sooner I go, the better. Fynn needs me.”
“And if you continue to push yourself, you will not be here to help him.” Ma raised a brow at her.
“It is late evening, anyway,” Mavka said. “Rest. At least until morning. You haven’t eaten for almost three days, and we have been keeping you hydrated through a cloth, which can only do so much. Rest, eat, drink. Regain your strength and we will see how you feel come morning.”
Aloisia puffed out a sigh. Resting was the last thing she wanted to do, but they had a point. She was in no state to get out of her bed, let alone travel to the prison to visit Inari.
Mavka gave a nod, taking her silence as agreement. “I will leave you to it, then. If you need anything at all, you know where I am.” With that, she headed back out.
Ma patted her shoulder, heading back to the side table. “Let’s get you some broth, hm? Build your strength back up.” She ladled some into a bowl from the cauldron set atop the table.
Tristan hovered, seemingly unsure where to put himself now she was awake.
Aloisia glowered. “I want you to leave.”
“Lis…”
She turned from him, not wanting to hear any more of what he had to say.
He seemed to get the message, the door closing softly behind him.
Ma tutted but said nothing on the matter, bringing the bowl to Aloisia. When she reached for the bowl, Ma batted her hand away, lifting the spoon to her lips instead. They remained in an easy silence. While Aloisia’s strength returned as she ate, sleep pulled at her too from the exertion of holding herself up for so long.
With the bowl empty and her eyelids heavy, Aloisia allowed Ma to help her settle back beneath the blankets and furs. Ma remained by her bed, humming a lullaby she would sing to Aloisia and Fynn when they were children.
Sleep lulled her into its embrace, and she went willingly this time.
