Chapter Twelve
Pacing under the canopy of a large tree in the gardens, a fingernail finds its way between my teeth.
I need to have a decision made by dinner.
And right now, my instincts are telling me to run.
But run where?
Escape into the wilds of Eldoterra and face down who knows how many creatures stalking the night? Vampires, undead, wraiths, werewolves? And gods know what else. Here… here I have the temple, its protections, its sanctuary. Surely I’m capable of hiding from one Sovereign King while here.
But staying means joining Celesta’s devoted.
The only creature I’m devoted to is myself.
Eve and Cora sit on a blanket together, Cora resting against Eve, Eve’s arm wrapped around her shoulders. A pair, it seems. They chat quietly, Eve showering Cora with small affections. A brush of the hair here, a kiss against the brow there.
I have to admit, it’s heartwarming.
Though seeing them brings questions I don’t know how to ask regarding the nature of things between fae and humans.
Thankfully, neither Eve nor Cora took offense when I asked on the matter earlier.
I learned humans and fae live in Erus peacefully and have since the Dividing War.
Apparently, the Sovereign King is a supporter of equality between the two species.
Something I didn’t expect coming from a fae.
The living realm is nothing short of stupefying.
I’m overwhelmed.
It’s as if a fog has been lifted from my mind and everything is crisper, clearer, more intense. I hear things at a distance I shouldn’t, colors are almost too vivid, and scents—
Good gods, the scents.
When the breeze blows through, I can smell warm bread from nearby bakeries, the briney waters of Kevus Lake, moss clinging to the stone of buildings, and a cornucopia of flowers.
It’s jarring and I’m struggling to navigate the onslaught of sensations.
Eve offered the potential explanation of it being due, in part, to my fae lineage.
While my emotions had always been somewhat of a challenge to control in the hells, here I find them even more easily evoked. In the hour it took for Eve and Cora to show me the first floor of the temple grounds, I was moved to tears no less than three times.
Why?
Because I got to see nightshade, my favorite flower, with these cursed fae eyes. Because I could hear the call of a nearby unkindness with these cursed fae ears. And because I got to taste chocolate for the first time with this cursed fae tongue.
Adapting to life is going to be harder than I anticipated.
It’s going to leave me a bloodied, tear-streaked mess on the floor.
I cannot wander around in persistent wonderment and awe, leaving logic upon a windowsill.
“Do you think she’d be a witch or an acolyte?” Eve says loud enough for me to hear as I turn and begin my return along the path I’d worn into the grass.
Cora hums as she tilts her head. “If I were to guess, I’d say witch.”
Ignoring them, I roll my eyes.
They can make all the commentary they want about which sect of Celesta’s service I’d fall into. It’s not going to change my mind. It’s a thinly veiled attempt to get me to open conversation on the subject, so they can plague me with their reasoning to join.
I’m not interested.
As they showed me around, they explained how the temple functions.
Celesta houses two sects: moon witches and moon acolytes.
Acolytes embrace and honor the known, guiding, nurturing aspects of the moon goddess—represented by the full moon.
Whereas witches embrace and honor the unknown, transformative, and secretive aspects—represented by the new moon.
Sects participate in daily prayer separately. Acolytes at dawn, witches at sunset. On special occasions, such as inductions, eclipses, solstices, and commemoration of Celesta’s ascension, they celebrate together.
While they pray separately, they live together, functioning as a whole.
Seeing black and silver robes walking side by side as they go about their day is common.
According to Cora, there are one hundred and twelve current temple members.
After tonight’s induction there will be one hundred twenty, possibly one hundred twenty-one.
“Can you sit?” Eve asks and I meet her stare. “You pacing is giving me anxiety.”
My lip curls back.
Another thing I’ll have to get used to, the audacity of mortals.
“You’re welcome to leave,” I reply in even tones as my feet continue.
Eve laughs, shaking her head. “Anyone ever tell you you’re a real joy to be around?”
Turning to tread the path again, my brows set into a deep scowl as I stare at Eve. Not bothering to use common tongue, I snarl, “Continue, mortal, and I’ll rip your tongue from your head.”
Eve sits up, unfurling her arm from around Cora. “I’d like to see you try,” she returns in perfect Malbolge.
I freeze, mouth falling agape as Eve begins to laugh.
Cora looks at Eve in surprise as well. “Well, that’s new.” She blinks.
My eyes narrow as I study the visible skin on Eve. The robes hide too much. Faster than lightning, tendrils of shadow streak forth, wrapping around Eve’s neck, yanking her to her feet.
“Which demon?” I demand in a snarl.
Around me screams rise from others in the garden as Cora scrambles to a stand.
“Vestaris, please!” she cries, hands flying to her mouth.
Eve’s eyes dance with sheer amusement as she simply allows my shadows to hold her. “She told me you were quick to anger,” she laughs, once again speaking Malbolge. “She also says she’s glad to see you haven’t changed.”
She?
“Give me her name,” I say in a low growl.
Artemise rushes through the garden, Opal and Aenwyn in her wake. Their robes swirl about their ankles as they move.
“Opal,” she says with a firm nod and Opal steps forward, her eyes fixed on me.
In the next instant, my fear, rage, and distrust vanish as if they’d never existed. My shadows, now left with nothing, dissipate, dropping Eve the short distance to her feet. I don’t feel anything, it’s as if—
“The loss is temporary,” Artemise assures as she draws closer. “Your emotions will return within the hour.”
Opal is a gods damned emotions siphon.
Unable to feel anger, or rage, or anything, I stare, blankly in their direction. Numbness washes over me, like it had after my hells-shaking encounter with Netharis. I’ve been reduced to a husk of a creature.
Artemise shoots a pointed glare at Eve. “Allowing you to bond with that succubi is proving more hassle than she’s worth, Eve. Both of you, my office, now.” She points to Eve and I.
Succubi?
That’s the kind of demon Eve knows?
Bond?
Eve is contracted?
Are all mortals this foolish?
Artemise whirls on her heel, retreating the way she’d come. Eve walks up to me and with a gesture of her head says, “Come on.”
She loops her arm through mine and begins leading me through the garden after Artemise. Eyes follow us as we walk, and I’m sharply reminded of the hells.
“I cannot trust you,” I say quietly, my voice strangely calm.
“She’s not going to tell Netharis.”
“You don’t know that,” I counter, my voice tight.
Eve chuckles followed by a sigh. “You would know better than I do.” She pauses. “Druka says hello.”
Meeting Eve’s ice blue stare, she smirks.
I should be shocked. I should be angry. But I can only stare as if the name means nothing at all.
“She won’t tell Netharis because she happens to think he’s a dickbag.”
This cannot be real.
This cannot be happening.
This fae cannot be contracted to her.
Passing through open doors, we enter the sanctum, the large expanse of a room used for prayer—the one I’d emerged in.
Climbing the small set of stairs onto a raised platform, the towering statue of Celesta stands facing the opposite direction.
As we pass, I stare at the spot on the floor where I’d collapsed the night before.
The ceilings stand at least forty feet high, a large stained glass window in the center fills the room with a dark blue light speckled with white light, the window depicting the night sky.
A detail I’d missed upon arrival as I apparently arrived during witching hour—what would have been the dead of night for mortals not in Celesta’s service.
Rows of white marble benches protrude from the floor, polished to gleaming. And it’s strange to see them empty. We climb down the same amount of stairs from the platform and begin down the aisle as Artemise reaches a door on the opposite corner of the sanctum.
“Why would she offer you a contract? Why would you accept it?” The questions come from me with a strange, even tone.
“The reasons she offered it are hers. Just as the reasons I accepted are my own,” Eve answers with a cool indifference.
“Do you understand what you’ve done?”
“Seven years she’ll never get,” Eve smirks triumphantly, tossing some of her dark braided hair over a shoulder. “Celesta’s ward keeps her from starting the clock.”
I shake my head.
She’s wrong.
A demon will always get their due. Especially Druka.
Artemise stands in the door, her arms crossed over her chest as we approach. The disgruntled, unimpressed stare she gives the both of us reminds me of how Vaelyn would often look at Ylara.
“Day one and you’ve already earned a trip to Artemise’s office,” Eve says, her voice so low I barely hear her. “Welcome to the club, Vestaris. We’re going to get along fantastically.”
?????????????
Descending the temple stairs, I stop upon the step Celesta had stood on the night we’d met. She never stepped off of the stairs because this is where her ward ends.
Celesta is just as afraid of Netharis as I am.