She nodded.
“Fine.” He stepped aside, allowing us into the neat—if crowded—little space. A far cry from the opulent splendor that was the High Priestess’ former office. But it was indeedprivate.“Just leave the door open, and we have a deal.”
“Can we compromise with unlocked?” the High Priestess asked, flashing him a beautiful smile. “The infirmary is never quiet for long.”
My lips curled back. Who was this docile, submissive creature? Where was the High Priestess from memory? The fierce leader of women who lived and fought battles in my dreams?
Marco scowled at me. “Fine. Ten minutes.”
“Ten minutes,” the High Priestess repeated, shooing the men from the room.
The instant we were alone, I wedged a chair beneath the doorknob, though I did so quietly, so as not to rouse suspicion from the sentinels lurking out of sight.
“Mila!” she hissed, pulling me back. “What are you doing?”
I lifted my wrist, letting the gold play in the dim lighting. “Get these off me.”
Making a sound at the back of her throat, she dislodged the chair. “Have a seat.”
I took three steps away, three back, digging at my wrist.
She sighed. “I have to admit, I was hoping to never see you again.”
“The manacles,” I pressed. “How do I remove them, Your Grace?”
“It’s just Sasha, now.” A slender hand passed through her hair. “You can’t take them off, Mila. Believe me. I’ve tried. The chains do not have a ki of their own and are, therefore, outside our limits as Priestesses.”
Shaking my head to dispel the gathering frustrated tears, I thrust my wrist beneath her nose. “You’re wrong. General Tilcot all but promised to separate me from my personal leech just this morning.”
Her pale cheeks blanched. “He what?”
I jerked my chin at the door, scrubbing at the bond living in my chest, too agitated to control rattling nerves. “That imbecile soldier outside the door has a weapon full ofmyki, Mistress.Mine.”A tremor raced through my blood. “The captain willnotuse me for his own gain. I will not allow it.”
“Mila…” She paused, skirting the edge of her tiny desk, avoiding my gaze as she collected a clay pot from the shelf. “Please. Have a seat.”
I scowled.
With a sigh, she placed the pot before me, giving it a neat quarter turn. “You don’t understand what the general was threatening to do.”
“No,” I said, frowning at an artifact that had no business surviving the Fall of Tritan, yet there it sat. The Lotus Regula. Meant to be mine, in another life. “And I don’t care. Neither will you when—”
“Enough,” she hissed, and brought her palm down on the desk. “The only way to break a bond is to end the life of one of the bonded. The general was making a threat on Captain Rawlings’ life. Or yours.”
“I’m liking that vile serpent more and more. Not enough to spare him for murdering my father, of course. But…” I shrugged, trying to hear the hum of the Lotus’ song—but that too, was lost to me. “The captain’s death would solve a lot of my immediate problems. Should have done it years ago…”
Her mouth dropped open. “How can you—killing Asher isn’t the answer! Mila, youmustknow what he is.”
“What he is or isn’t is irrelevant with our freedom at stake—”
“Freedom?”
“Keep your voice down,” I hissed, glancing at the door. “I’m offering you a chance to reclaim what isyours.”Picking at my collar, at the skin around it, I leaned forward, seizing my chance when something dangerously close to hope glimmered in her beautiful blue eyes. “And if Captain Rawlings thinks he can stop me, he’ll die for it. But don’t worry,” I drawled, showing teeth. “His will not be a frivolous death, for his ki shall fuel our victory.”
“Goddess,” she breathed, pinching the bridge of her nose. “You stupid,stupidgirl. You’ve become exactly what I warned you against all those years ago. A full-fledged Empath.”
“Oh, yes.” I laughed, and pulled the Lotus from its nest of dirt and moss. I offered it my branded right hand, letting it feast, and though I hadn’t the power to guide its growth or hear the song of my people, the Lotus flowered once more.
When last I’d touched it, the Lotus had exploded with the blooms of my Truth, issuing dozens of multi-colored florets kissed by darkness and silver moonlight. Now? A single, sad flower strained for life.
