Tristan and the other priest strode alongside the pyre, each armed with a torch, which they set inside the pyre at intervals. The fire took hold, all too quickly, yet too slow. Flames lapped at Brighde’s hair, singeing the white petals weaved through the strands, charring the gossamer dress.
Aloisia grasped Fynn’s hand, and he clutched hers, propping each other up. A delicate balancing act. They stood there, watching in silence as the flames danced across the pyre, freeing Brighde at last. They remained there long after the flames had died, leaving thirteen candles lit amongst the ashes.
High Priest Silas had brought out some wine for Fynn and their families, and they sat in Ma’s favourite pew once more, sipping on it. Aloisia, restless once more, took to pacing the nave and its surrounding corridors instead. She swilled the small metal cup, the taste of the wine too sharp for her liking, but unable to set it aside all the same.
The groups of guards and huntresses had returned whilst Aloisia had been at the pyre, a few survivors in tow. There was still no sign of Klaus, and they had accounted for everyone in the Watchtower and the prison.
The ash from the streets still blackened Aloisia’s arms, now smeared across her skin, her fading runes barely visible beneath. She longed to wash it off, though she feared in doing so, she would wash away the reality of what had happened, what had been lost. Instead, she paced and sipped at the too-sharp wine.
The hallways were darkening as night fell, the priests lighting the torches on the walls as she traipsed by. With each round she completed, the nave grew emptier. She overheard the priests as they guided the townsfolk to different rooms – their own rooms they were giving up for others, as well as studies, libraries, and other rooms now equipped with straw mattresses and blankets so people could sleep more comfortably. Not that she thought many people would get much sleep. She certainly would not, unless exhaustion claimed her first.
A figure moved out from the shadows and Aloisia stopped abruptly. She breathed a sigh when she saw it was only Ezra.
“After too many days fighting shadow creatures, it might be an idea for younotto step out of the darkness like that,” she said, taking another sip of wine.
“Noted.” Ezra smirked. “I wanted to thank you, Huntress. For your help today, and in previous ones.”
“Who are you and what have you done with the scholar?”
He laughed. “I know I have not been exactly grateful since we met.”
“Gratitude is a terrible colour on you.”
“I shan’t try it again.” He tilted his head. “But in all seriousness, I shall not forget the service you have done for me.”
“Try as I may.” She tipped the cup in a salute. “Might I ask you something? Since magic is your forte.”
“Certainly. What troubles you?”
“When Brighde… when she died, those markings appeared on her. And when I touched her hand, one appeared on mine.”
He narrowed his eyes. “Fascinating.”
“The marking was a star. I wondered if you’d know what it meant.”
“Difficult to say. Symbology seems to be more up the shaman’s street. Might I see it?”
“Unfortunately, no.” Aloisia opened her palm. “It vanished when I made the sacrifice to free you. And we’ve just set Brighde to rest, so you cannot see hers either.”
“How odd.”
“Is there any explanation for it?”
Ezra crossed his arms, a frown furrowing his brow. “Though I cannot know for certain, nor can I attest to what the marking was, I can certainly hazard a guess. My theory would be when you made the blood sacrifice, the power of the spell shattered the bonds of the other.”
“Spells can cancel each other out?”
“Sometimes. If one spell is more powerful, it could replace the other.” His gaze flitted across her, as if gauging her reaction. “Not that I think you should worry about it. The mark is gone, and so is whatever magic it held.”
“Is there any way to know what the spell had been?”
“Again, just hypothesising here, but I would assume it had been a replication of the spell upon your sister-in-law. A smaller one, granted. Seemingly not enough to do you harm. However, the creatures seemed to have a particular interest in you…”
A shiver crawled atop her skin. “I’d rather it wasn’t the case. And the marking was gone once you were out of the cave. It doesn’t add up.”
“More than you know,” he murmured.
Aloisia regarded him with wary eyes. “What of you? Are you still bound?”
