Nose wrinkled, my father asked, “What is that?”
“Doyouknow, Mila?”
I shook my head, yet couldn’t tear my eyes from its unappealing brown flesh. There was… something about it. A hint of spice lurking beneath the surface. A whisper of something…other.
“This,” she said, giving the pot a quarter turn, “is the Lotus Regula. It is the only living example of its kind, and is the most valuable of all the many wonders and priceless things housed here at the temple.”
I straightened, turning the full weight of my attention upon this so-called lotus.
“It’s… ah… beautiful?” my father said, taking his seat.
She laughed. “It certainly isn’t. But go on,” she said, and placed the lotus in his hands. “Tell me, what do you feel?”
“It’s a bit… crunchy,” my father replied. “I think you need to water it more often.”
Head tilted, I frowned, for I could hear more than mere whispers now that I was really listening. The lotus was hiding a tiny fire—a spark hidden within an ugly, desiccated shell.
“It’s lifeless in your hands, Senator. Nothing but a dried out relic, but at the touch of a Priestess?” She reclaimed the pot and wrapped both hands around it, closing her eyes. A tiny crease formed between her brows as she concentrated, pouring a delicate stream of ki directly into the roots. As I watched, the horrible little thing unfurled, dried leaves pulsing with new life, growing three new sprouts before my eyes. And from the center, a single, massive silver flower blossomed, emitting the sweetest fragrance I’d ever encountered. Releasing her grip, the High Priestess pushed it toward me, reclining in her seat with hands folded across her belly. “It takes a Priestess to give the lotus life.”
“Goddess, it—” It was singing! I could hear it, could see the ki surging thick in the glossy petals. My fingers traced the spot where my pendant wasn’t, and without an aid to ease my burden, I leaned forward, drawn to the casual show of Priestess strength. “Incredible.”
“The lotus can be traced back to the old country, Mila. It has been passed from one High Priestess to the next, from Trila-Glís to her successor, for thousands of years. All the way back to the same generation in which the Goddess blessed our blood.”
“A fascinating parlor trick, to be sure,” my father said, inspecting the lotus with creased brow. Touching one delicate silver petal with his forefinger. “But what purpose does it serve?”
The High Priestess collected her lotus, banishing the ki and returning it to its original state—sleepy hibernation. “A parlor trick to you, Senator Tannovic, but to your daughter? Tell me, little rogue, can you feel it? Is itnothingto you?”
My breath came hard, lungs tight as my eyes followed the lotus, unable to look away. How was it possible that my father feltnothing?Could hearnothingof the ethereal hymn raising gooseflesh on my skin? Even now, while dormant, I could hear it calling. Louder than the forbidden Glaith in my pocket, the Sentinels trees, and the High Priestess combined. Louder even, than the captain’s impossible ki nipping at my fragile restraint, for the lotus rememberedeveryPriestess who’d ever laid hands upon its withered flesh. I knew before the High Priestess confirmed it… for it wastheirsong crawling through my bones. Thousands upon thousands of Priestesses. All cherished. Each adding their own unique lyric to the song of my people.
“The lotus has but one purpose in this life,” the High Priestess said. “To reveal the true nature of the Priestess who feeds it. To rank her as either Triloth or Trila-Glís. This is your test, Mila,” the High Priestess whispered. “Take the lotus in your hands and make it sing for us. Let it into your heart so we may see your Truth.”
Sweat bloomed on my nape. My upper lip. Tracing the length of my spine—forthisis why I’d been sent here. I could feel it, could hear it in the lotus’ song.
The lotus was mine.
MyGoddess-given birthright.
With hands that trembled, I claimed the ancient thing. Careful, for a moment, not to touch flesh imbued with such power. Savoring the moment, in spite of how I’d managed to find myself here.
“What’s going to happen?” my father asked, leaning forward in his chair. Otherwise, still.
“No Flourishing is the same,” the High Priestess returned, her voice growing more distant with each beat of my heart, with each new verse playing in my head. “Most cannot make it flower, and as such, are named Triloth. Priestesses in their own right, yes, but not contenders formyseat. Only a Trila-Glís—”
The tips of my fingers brushed the dried bundle—and that was it. With a single touch, I was lost, swaying to a music meant for my ears alone. Enthralled as it rose in pitch, with force enough to drown the voices of those standing closest to me.
Goddess,this.
Blind, I clasped the lotus in both hands, covering as much of the wrinkled skin as I could—but this time, I wasnotthe one starving for a taste.
The lotus reached for me, sending tendrils of ki through my skin, reaching for the truth that lay hidden in my core. Starving for that which only the Blood could provide. It needed ki to survive, to propagate new life, and in return, held the memory of a thousand Priestesses. A tether between this world and the Void, the lotus bound them all.
“… Feed it, Mila,”the High Priestess whispered, her voice echoing beyond the limit of physical hearing.“… allow the lotus to feast and claim your place among us, child…”
Submit? As I had for the captain? I bared my teeth, fingers bloodless in my effort to deny them all. Refusing to bow, I screamed in the face of those trying to take from me.
“… Don’t fight it, girl… let the lotus see your Truth, and forget your fear. There is no persecution here…”
Lies.
