“SOMEBODY GET HER!” the loud booming voice reverberates down the wide hall. “She killed the high priestess!” I guess if anyone were to call me out, it would be old hag herself, Bridget.
When Kestrel found me naked, seated above a blue-lipped Cardinal with blood dripping from my fingertips, things did not go well for me. And Bridget was not far behind once Kestrel sounded the ear-piercing alarm to my wrongdoings.
Somehow, in the daze of my subconscious, I’d picked up Cardinal’s white robe before sprinting down the hall. In truth, I am just surprised that Bridget is still alive. Not that I have ever made a habit of killing people, but it seems my body and my mind are somehow in agreement that my silent torturer of the past eight rotations needed to go. Bridget was lucky she never laid a hand on me, unlike Cardinal.
My heart, however, is not in favour of all the bloodshed, which explains its need to dust the floor behind me with its shattering debris.
Doors start to open around me, and I begin to hear slapping feet as I push myself faster and harder than I ever have before, racing along the long corridor. There’s only one place I am truly safe, and that’s where I am headed.
Adrenaline spurs me on. The shouting behind me grows louder as I head into the lower levels of the temple, where the priestesses no longer reside. In a way, I am lucky Haven is seen as a peaceful kingdom right now. The need for wardens at the temple has become obsolete.Small mercies.
Little giggles start to flow out of my lips. “Lucky. Huh, so lucky.”
That’s when I notice the tiny drops of blood oozing from my left wrist; thin slits that were made on my arm so my blood could be provided for the ritual. Usually, they heal over quickly with my soothing rosemary balm, but that is back in my room. So, doing the next best thing, I bunch the silk covering my form and hold it to my arm as I run, hoping that will give it space to stem the small dribble of blood.
Sprinting past the hot springs and through the winding halls, the voices grow smaller and smaller as darkness makes itself known—in a different way this time. Running my hands along the walls, I use my knowledge gained over rotations of scouring these tunnels to find the one place I’m looking for, not chancing the light from my lantern when the only advantage I have is the darkness.
Suddenly, I detect a familiar piece of unravelling tapestry. I shuffle behind the fraying work of art and fumble along the edges of smooth stone until I find it—the two connecting circles.
Pushing my fingers down, a latch gives way, and I heave the stone door wide.
A cold breeze washes over my skin, matching the icy chill of death in my chest.And to think I was on the brink of death last night at my own hand, and now I find myself running from death again.
I am tempted to blame all the characters in my head, but really, the only person I can blame is myself and the growing rage that has been slowly building inside, rotation after rotation. A person can only handle so much.
My eyes are of no use down here, and my hands trail the walls again until the slight luminosity of the glow-worms lights my way forward.
Blood wooshes in my veins, urging me onwards as I grip the robe tighter, keeping it tightly pressed against my weeping wrist.
With my widening steps, I find myself hitting the entryway of the large cavern in record rhythm. The beating in my ears grows as I stop before the Goddess’s tree and look above to gaze at the almost fully rounded moon. “Goddess, please forgive me,” the words slip from my shaking mouth.
Taking a lick of my lips, I’m reminded of what I can only assume is blood now caking my face. Whether it is my own or Cardinal’s, I do not know, nor do I care. Rushing at the water, I sink down and harshly scrub at my lips, rinsing and spitting out the sacred, salty sea. A quick apology escapes me for sullying the Goddess’s sacred space.
Gazing down into the rippling water, I see shining green eyes staring back at me. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” Tears spill down my face. What’s left of my heart completely shatters to pieces, and I have no way of fixing it. Numbness grips me, but the tears keep rolling down my cheeks.I seem to be apologising a lot these turns.
Getting up, I twist, making my way to the tree and the Goddess inside.If anyone can fix me and this mess I’ve made, it’s the Goddess. My song may not have worked the first rhythm, but I still believe in something. Something other than myself. I can feel it all around me.
Clumsily stepping one foot in front of the other like I’m stuck in a heavy dream, I crawl through the hole to find the statue in her usual spot.
Regarding the crystal Goddess, I creep towards her kneeling body and grasp her cold face in my hands.
“Please forgive me,” I say again and again in a warbled, shaking voice, the repetition of my words soothing my blemished soul.
And that’s when I hear it. Not Wren. Nor Argus. Not my own lies woven by the tragedy of my existence.
No. I hear a soft, soothing female voice singing a song. Her song. A song I’ve stumbled over so many rhythms before as I learnt, perfected and finally shared it with her. A song only the fae know. Because she is the fae Goddess, and us silly, stupid humans thought a fae Goddess would bow down to us after we pillaged her people.
Now, she sings to me. Of all the humans, she sings to me, a broken human girl.
Her voice surrounds me as I hold her cloudy face in my hands—a face I find all the colours of the rainbow in. She is purity, healing, wisdom and home.
Hearing her song lulls my body into a state of calm. Laying down at her feet in the roots and sand below, I whisper a quiet, “Thank you,” and close my eyes.
My body jostles, pushing breath out of my lungs.What is pushing my ribcage?Darn it. Not ideal.
Cracking my eyes open from the sleep that has decided to solidify around them, I take in a large foot. Unfortunately, my ears are not awake yet, and any noise the angry foot makes is lost on me.
I surrender my fate to the Goddess. If she deems this her will, then I shall comply.
