“Let’s get going then.” Oda ushered her back through the corridor.
“Back we go,” Aloisia murmured, cradling her ribs.
So long as they followed the map that day, she would tolerate the lethargy and pain. In doing so, they could find answers in time for the trial the next day. And she would ensure her promise to Inari would be fulfilled.
TWENTY EIGHT
ThesuncreptfurthertowardsnoonasAloisiawaitedinExecutionSquare.Sheperchedonabench,withKajaatherside.OdaheadedbackintotheprisontofetchInariafteranotherdrearyconversationwithMagistrateVesterandavastamountofpaperwork.
“Finally.” Aloisia sighed, spotting the shaman through the iron gates of the prison, flanked by two guards and led by Oda.
Kaja helped her up from the bench as they approached. One guard was tall and lean with a shock of copper hair and a spatter of freckles across his face. The other was a little shorter, but broad-shouldered and muscular, his golden hair tied back at the nape of his neck. The second guard shoved Inari forwards. Manacles still bound the shaman’s wrists. He gave a weak smile, glancing over Aloisia now he was in daylight, as if checking for wounds.
Oda pulled Inari’s chains, bringing him to an abrupt halt. “As part of the agreement, the shaman will dispel the copies of the markings,” she said. “We go to the Temple first. Also, the shaman says he needs the rest of the map, so we’ll do that while we’re there.”
Aloisia nodded, looking to the shaman. “I suppose you didn’t get the opportunity to translate it all before you were arrested.”
“All right,” Oda said, cutting off anything Inari might have said. “Get the cart to transport the prisoner.” She nodded to the broader guard with golden hair, and he took off back to the prison.
Inari raised a brow. “I am to travel in a cart?”
“The very same you came to the prison in, shaman.”
“How is he going to direct us if he is in a cart?” Aloisia asked.
“I am just doing what I am told, Huntress. Anyway, he can surely shout the instructions to us, no?”
Aloisia rolled her eyes.
The guard returned with three horses and a metal cart forged of iron bars.
“Thank you, Ragnar,” Oda said.
They bundled Inari inside, and Guard Ragnar attached his horse to the front, taking a seat at the head of the cart. Oda and the other guard took their places behind it on their own horses. Kaja helped Aloisia up onto their own mare and they rode alongside Oda.
They reached the Temple soon enough. Inari was thrust out of the cart. Though his knees almost buckled beneath him from the force of it, he made no complaint, setting his footing right and striding to the Temple doors. Aloisia clenched her teeth but kept quiet. If all went well, she would deal with the guards soon enough.
A priest greeted them at the door. He hastened through the nave to fetch High Priest Silas. When the high priest arrived, his face was drawn and gaunt, and he led them to another room where the three bodies and the copies of the markings were stored. Several bolts and locks secured the room from the outside. As Brighde had been, the three priests were laid atop marble slabs, white sheets covering them entirely. A pile of papers and books were set on a table against the nearest wall.
“What do you require, shaman?” Silas asked.
Oda pushed Inari towards the copies, and the shaman glanced over them.
“Red ink. And a brush.”
Silas nodded at the other priest, who scarpered off to retrieve the items, returning moments later. Everyone in the room watched in silence as Inari worked. Wrists still bound, he held the brush with one hand, unable to move the other. He asked Kaja to place each page before him so he could etch a singular rune upon them.
Once done, and almost all the red ink was gone, Inari ordered the guards to throw the papers into the fireplace at the far side of the room. They looked at Oda for confirmation, and she gave a nod. They bundled the notes into their arms, and Inari followed behind as they made their way to the fireplace.
As they threw them in, Inari said a few words in a tongue Aloisia did not recognise. The flames burned a luminous green, flaring up to consume the pages thrown to it. As one, everyone took a step away, except for Inari.
“That should do it,” the shaman said. “Though it shall make naught but a small dent to the spell whilst the bodies remain.” He examined the three priests. “Their bodies need to be burned. The markings increase the spell three-fold on their skin. Unless you want more bloodshed—”
“Fine,” Oda snapped. “We get it. The high priest knows.” She gestured to Silas. “It is his jurisdiction what happens to them now.”
Inari glanced at the high priest. “If you will permit me, I shall mark their palms, like what I did with the pages. It should work similar enough, and the spell shall be broken once you burn them.”
Silas inclined his head. “As you will, shaman.”
