My blood freezes when the heavy boots thump above our heads, raining dust on my face. I clamp a hand over my mouth to hold in a cough.
“We’re looking for two fugitives,” barks a stern voice. “A criminal who’s escaped the dungeon and a cook from the kitchens who helped him.”
So we were right, the alarms were because our ruse had been discovered.
“A criminal? Who is it?” asks one of the sisters with an innocent air.
“Some visitor who snuck into the palace and was caught. He faked his death. When guards went to retrieve his body for burning, he was gone. The king’s beside himself with rage,” the soldier says.
Dietan tightens his grip on my fingers while his other hand moves to the knife he’s strapped to his hip. He’s kept it close since I returned it to him this morning.
“This is a place of worship,” we hear Sister Dosha say in her calm voice. “And you’ve interrupted our sacred meal.”
The guard utters a muffled response I can’t make out. I don’t move. I don’t breathe. My muscles are wound so tightly it feels like I might snap.
“You’re certain you haven’t taken in anyone injured? A badly beaten, light-haired, Loegrian man? A dark-haired Alarician woman would be accompanying him.”
“No, no one of that description,” says Sister Dosha, sounding unruffled and slightly annoyed to have to answer such questions.
“Lying to the kingsguard is treason,” the soldier warns.
“I am aware, and you should be aware that we serve King Osian well here.”
“You serve at the mercy of the king, and if it’s discovered you have harbored fugitives, the king will raze this temple.”
Sister Dosha wisely doesn’t reply. Then there’s the sound of boots circling the hidden door, raining dust on us once again. I pray to the goddess Sirona to keep me from sneezing.
I bow my head to keep the dirt out of my eyes and lean on Dietan, strong and silent next to me, focusing on him to keep the paralyzing fear at bay.
At last, the heavy footsteps recede. The clatter of breakfast resumes once again. Then, after what feels like forever, silence takes over as the room empties and acolytes and pilgrims go back to their tasks. We wait longer still, breathing more easily now, hoping the danger has passed. At last we hear the scraping of tables, chairs being pushed away, and the carpet being rolled back. The door springs open, and the light is painfully bright, stinging my eyes.
For an instant, I fear it’s a guard.
But then I hear Siena’s voice tell us, “They’re gone.” She reaches for my hand, helping me up the steps. Dietan follows with a steadying hand on my back.
We are back in the dining hall, which is empty not just of people but of food. My stomach growls. Thankfully, Siena hands us each a slice of date cake folded in a cloth napkin. “They’re combing the city, looking for you,” she says as we eat.
Dietan wolfs the cake down gratefully. I thought I was starving, but now I find my appetite is gone.
Namreth is looking for us.
He knows that Dietan is alive and I helped him. I hand my slice of cake to Dietan, who raises a questioning eyebrow before gulping it down, too.
“We can’t stay here,” Dietan says when he’s finished eating. His jaw is set, his eyes hard and determined. “They’ll be back,” he adds, just as Sister Dosha returns to the room. She looks relieved to see us.
“Yes, they will. I don’t think they believed me, but they can’t move against the temple without proof.” Worry creases her gentle face. “Are you sufficiently recovered?”
He stretches out his arms. Though I know he’s sore from crouching in our cramped hiding spot, he is no longer in pain. “More than you know. You’ve done a magnificent job. Thank you, sister, for everything,” says Dietan. “We need to get out of here today. We’re putting everyone in this temple in danger.”
The priestess nods. “We have use of a place near a grain storehouse that belongs to the temple,” she tells us. “You can stay there as long as you need until you find a way to leave the city.”
“I’m guessing we aren’t the first people you’ve had to hide from Namreth?” he asks.
“No, and you won’t be the last. The accommodations aren’t as comfortable as here at the temple, but—”
Dietan nods sharply. “It will be more than sufficient. How do we get there without being discovered?”
“The wagon we usually use to transport supplies will be most inconspicuous. I’ve already called for it. It should be here before the next call to prayer. Siena can help you get ready.”
