The doors she could never open, because they needed a key.
With trembling hands, she lifted the chain, holding the clasp as if to secure it around her neck.
But just before she did …
She thought she heard something shift in the hallway behind her.
The wind suddenly whistled past her ears, angry and cold.
And the door behind her slammed shut.
She woke to the sound of her own gasp, drenched in sweat.
‘Gods,’ Ezer hissed and sat up inside her bed in the Tower of Dhysis.
Her dreams were getting stranger, wilder, since arriving here.
Strange that Zey wasn’t sound asleep beside her. The Eagleminder was usually the first thing she saw when she sat up.
But her bed was empty.
‘Breakfast?’
Izill had arrived, her voice barely a whisper.
Ezer yawned as she dressed in a fresh set of black clothing she found carefully folded inside her trunk.
‘If we’re to do this every day,’ Izill said with a smile as she joined her by the hearth, ‘we might as well get to know one another. I’ll go first.’
Izill was two years younger than Ezer – a fast talker, but gentle as a turtle dove. And despite her lack of magic, she knew anything and everything there was to know about the Citadel.
‘I spend most of my days in the library when I’m not in the kitchens,’ Izill said. ‘Or on duty for Head Servant, tending to odds and ends. But it’s not so bad. I’ve a goal to make it to every floor of the library – to read every tome – before I’m called to the Ehver above.’
‘But that’s impossible,’ Ezer said. ‘There’s far too many.’
Izill shrugged. ‘Not if I’m only reading the spines.’
Ezer laughed at that. Then she leaned closer and asked, ‘The laws the Sacred are to keep. How many are there?’
Izill’s smile fell. ‘A thousand. We make a vow when we come of age and show our magic – or lack thereof, in my case – that we will keep the laws until our death.’
‘What happens if you don’t?’ Ezer asked.
Izill frowned. ‘Penance.’
‘You mean the brands,’ Ezer said.
Izillnodded. ‘I suppose that’s one way to put it. They say the brands are kindest. A moment of pain to absolve a lifetime of punishment. Centuries ago, it was far more barbaric. The removal of fingers or toes, or tongues, even … depending on the severity of the law broken.’
‘Zey had one last night,’ Ezer said. ‘A brand.’
Izill pursed her lips. ‘She is one of the strong-willed ones. A good trait in a Sacred. But sometimes … well, that trait must be softened. Honed, at the very least.’ Izill shrugged. ‘Zey wants to be the best. Sometimes her methods lead to breaking a few laws here and there. The War Table is quick to catch her falling short. They cannot have the younger ones looking up to a Sacred who follows her own ways, instead of the Five. Too many mistakes … and one might think she’s lost her allegiance.’
Ezer took a sip of steaming coffee. ‘And what ifpenanceisn’t enough to keep a Sacred in line?’
Izill’s eyes softened. ‘That’s why we have Absolution. Although I should warn you … steerclearof Zey when the festivities begin. You think she’s bad now? Imagine her when she’s two goblets of winterwine deep.’
Not a comforting thought. And yet a small tremor of excitement went through her. She supposed the next Absolution was coming, sooner or later. Bit by bit, she was getting a chance to seebeyondthe veil of the Sacred. To uncover the mysteries so many in Lordach would never know the answers to.
