But there’s no room for doubt. My plan has already gone awry, but demanding a tribunal was the best way to ensure an audience with Othrix and the Prime Klerick.
Only by getting onto the main altar will I have a chance to expose the truth. I now firmly believe that everything the dragons have told us about our deity is true.
Othrix is not a god, and he never was. What I saw as a child must have been trickery. Othrix, if he ever existed, is nothing but a small creature—part lion, part man.
At least Tynan remained outside to protect Rosomon. In spite of all the boy has done, I’m certain he’ll keep her safe and should have the sense to keep her well away from the temple. Or at least keep her well hidden amongst the crowd, if they attend tomorrow’s public audience.
I’m beyond grateful that our captors have not yet realized that Surath is a woman. She told me the indignities she suffered at the Khotori court, and I imagine things here would be even worse.
The four of us are thrown into a small damp cell, and its heavy door slams shut behind us.
Using his bound hands, Xendus grabs a fistful of my tunic and shoves me against a wall. “If this is your plan, you’d better start talking.” His eyes are so full of fire it’s a wonder I’m not burned. But I understand his anger and return it with some of my own.
“You weren’t supposed to follow.” I glare at him. “I’m the one accused of heresy and could easily demand a tribunal. You should have remained outside until the public audience tomorrow.”
Xendus pushes me against the wall again. “Did you evenconsidersharing that plan with us?”
I draw a deep breath, my heart thumping. “You’re right. I should have shared more.”
Xendus steps back, looking genuinely shocked at my agreement. I glance around at the others. All three of the dragons are glowering at me, and Zogar looks like he might explode.
“We should have discussed my plan.” I shake my head, looking down. I was held on my own for so many months. And evenbefore that, I spent my life behind invisible walls, never telling anyone who I truly was. My intent was to sacrifice myself, but instead I’ve put all the dragons at risk.
And we left Tynan and Rosomon alone.
“I understand what you did,” Surath says, and I raise my gaze toward her. “Saxon hopes to use his tribunal to expose the klericks and Othrix. Even if it meant facing death, my rider planned to sacrifice himself for the good of us all.”
Looking at Surath, I blink. I tried—very hard—not to think about my plans while she was knotted inside me. Clearly, I did not succeed.
“If you understood, why did you follow me up the stairs?” I ask her. “It was only supposed to be me.”
She steps toward me. “Your planned sacrifice was brave, but foolish,” she says. “And I didn’t expect our King to rush up behind you.”
“Sister.” Zogar frowns at Surath. “You only told me that your human had a plan to get on the altar to expose the truth about Othrix. You didn’t mention his plan involved imprisonment.”
“We weren’t meant to be with him,” she says. “But if we’re all brought before this fake god, it may be for the best.”
Zogar backs away and leans against the wall, his bound hands resting against his thighs. “Rosomon is alone. How can that be for the best?”
“Tynan will protect her,” I say as confidently as I can. I only wish I had some way to be certain.
CHAPTER 62
Rosomon
One of the klericks drags me down the front stairs and around the side of the temple. Being dragged by the hair is painful, and my captor purposefully yanks it periodically.
He opens a side door into the temple and drags me inside. My face is pointed toward the floor, and the halls and staircases are dimly lit, but I try to keep track of our route as we go lower and lower below the massive temple.
We reach a large door, and the klerick raps on it loudly.
The door creaks open, and a spear of soft light widens on the stone floor. The klerick shoves me inside the room so forcefully I land on all fours. My already bruised knees strike hard, and my palms slap the damp floor, the sound joining the scream of pain I’m unable to swallow.
“On your feet, lazy girl,” a gruff female voice says.
“This one here calls herselfprincess,” the klerick tells the woman. “Most thought this one was dead, but I found her rightoutside. In fact, she walked right up to the temple like she owned the place. Arrogant bitch.”
“Language!” scolds the woman.
