“I know where it is,” I whispered, and let the ring return to the depths of my pocket—where it was safest. “I’ll get it back, I just need—”
The High Priestess patted my forearm, an easy smile tracing her lips. “I startled her, Senator. If she’s lost her Glaith, I’m to blame. Besides,” she continued, “she no longer has any need of it. Mila will be taught to harness her gifts.”
“And the other Priestesses?” my father asked, clutching at a bronzed safety bar at his hip. “Without the Glaith, they’ll be able to sense her.”
“Hers is a secret that cannot be kept forever.” Lips pursed, the High Priestess paused, collecting both of my hands in hers. “But until I know for certain what the Goddess has given this girl,” she said, “I will keep her hidden myself. You have my word.”
“Thank you, Your Grace,” I murmured, and turned, gazing out the window as the temple grounds flicked by.
Only the trees saw my smile for what it was.
Chapter 8
Josh brought the coach to a graceful halt, setting it down before the temple’s front step. And, jaw slack, I followed the High Priestess from the vehicle, breathing deep of the fresh, fragrant breeze whispering through the trees. Impeccably kept, we stood in a lush garden of such impressive abundance, I hadn’t a hope of naming everything if I spent a lifetime trying. And yet, it wasn’t the exotic flowers that caught my attention, or the elegant, sweeping architecture of the Temple itself, but three gnarled, ancient trees.
All three flowering, in spite of the late season.
“Do they bear fruit?” I asked, taking a step toward the closest, the one with tiny blue flowers and a deep craggy silver trunk.
Chin tilting to the specimen in question, the High Priestess smiled, slow and easy. “Not anymore, I’m afraid. They’re too old to care for young. We call them the Sentinels. And this is Blue.”
I flicked a smirk in her direction, unable to tear my gaze from the ancient giant, for I could sense something simmering beneath the surface. Something wild, speaking in a language I hadn’t the tools to understand. “How old is too old?”
“At least as old as the temple itself,” she replied. “They were the first to be planted here. It’s said they have a heart of Glaith”—she shrugged, joining me—“though I’m not sure how much truth there is to that particular myth.”
It wasn’t a myth. I could hear the Sentinels whispering, could feel the specter of a thousand Priestesses humming beneath their skin, beckoning me closer to the ki stored in those mighty trunks. Their Glaith hearts eased the urge to reach into my pocket and taste the captain’s ki… replacing it with the desire to blend with the embodiment of calm serenity… “Beautiful… They’re…beautiful.”
“That they are,” she agreed, setting her palm against Blue’s mighty trunk. “And they bloom year-round.”
The Sentinel seemed to sigh, leaves and petals shivering beneath her touch as the ki of a Trila-Glís filled its heart.
“We maintain them,” she continued, patting the thick skin. “I’d wager they’re more Priestess than I am, at this point.”
Clearing his throat, my father joined us. “It’s a… fascinating old tree. Really… uh… big.”
Nostrils flared, I shot him a look, but turned away from the Sentinels and their whispers of power. There’d be time enough to drink from that ancient tap.
“My apologies, Senator.” With a secret little smile, the High Priestess met his eye. “I don’t get many chances to show off all the wonders we house here—and I’m in the mood to brag.”
Inclining his head, my father clasped my shoulder. “You have our undivided attention.”
“Then come,” she said. “We’ve got a lot to talk about.”
“And lots t’see, I hope,” Josh said, wringing his hands as he stepped down from the coach, face lit with hope and eager expectation.
Lips pursed, the High Priestess nodded. “Oh, why not? Join us. I’ll have someone take the coach to the back lot.”
“You’ve my thanks, Your Holiness.” Grinning, he fell into step at my side, his honey-brown Eloran eyes flicking over everything in sight. “Tell me, lass,” he whispered. “Just how’d your father manage this, eh? A private tour of the temple?Thetemple?” He shook his head, laughing under his breath. “I canna believe we actually get t’see it.”
While I had no answer for him, I couldn’t condemn his enthusiasm. Not really, for this was an honor bestowed upon so few. And the temple itselfwasincredible. Benches seemed to grow straight from the earth, living roots twisted and exposed to the elements, yet thick and sturdy. Inviting, even. Goddess, the very path we walked on was a lattice of interwoven branches, roots, and moss, complete with tiny twigs and leaves reaching for the sun. Where there was stone, something living had grown through and around it, incorporating it into the very architecture of the building.
So it came as something of a surprise when intricate, handmade carvings caught my eye. Standing out amongst a collage of organic design, feathers had been hewn into ashen wood. Each as wide as my torso, they reached for the earth, cradling the front entrance in a downy embrace. Wings, poised to either draw a visitor to a feathery bosom, or sink savage talons into an intruder and take flight. But what species had the temple chosen for a mascot? “An owl?”
“What else?” the High Priestess asked and took my hand in hers, tethering my ki once more. “An owl is the Goddess’ chosen form.”
Great wooden eyes stared down at me, unblinking over a fierce hooked beak—and I smiled. Flightanddeadly predatory skills? As chosen forms went, I certainly understood the appeal.
“Welcome to the Temple of Milithia,” the High Priestess said, and released her grip on my shoulder, reaching to open the great doors of the temple. They moved easily on well-oiled hinges, a feat which—given their size—seemed an impossible thing for the slight figure of the High Priestess to accomplish on her own. But she managed, motioning for us to follow. “Ah, Annabelle,” she said, upon spotting the lesser Priestess who’d been at the senate meeting. “If you wouldn’t mind, there’s a gargantuan Glaith coach parked out front. Could you take it to the back lot?”
