Chapter 28
Chapter
Twenty-Eight
The acolyte led her through a maze of dark halls, his white robes the only hint of brightness in the dim light cast by the aetherlamps. Araya had to hurry to match his brisk pace, keeping her head bowed as the corridors twisted back on themselves, each one darker than the last.
Finally, he stopped. “You can wait in here,” he said. “Someone will be in to retrieve you.”
He bowed low before she could so much as thank him, vanishing back into the shadowed hall in a swirl of white robes.
And for the first time since she’d come to Lumaria, Araya was completely alone.
She stared around at her surroundings, studying the painted screens arranged behind the makeshift altar in lieu of the murals that had decorated the ransacked temple at the Aetherium and the abandoned one she’d taken shelter in with Loren.
A series of small bowls were laid out across the altar, while the single brazier smoldering beside it filled the sparse room with the rich, earthy scent of charcoal.
Araya let out a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding, collapsing onto one of the simple benches. Her shoulders sagged, exhaustion crashing over her. She’d done it. She’d told them what she could do for them—now it was up to them to say yes or no.
But the waiting was somehow worse than all their judgement.
If they said yes, she’d be walking straight back into that gilded cage.
But if they said no…she was still going to have to find a way to leave.
No one knew her better than Jaxon. And no one knew him better than her.
He wouldn’t stop killing them. Not until he had her back.
Araya stared at the brazier, watching the smoke curl up toward the ceiling in slow, ghostly ribbons. Let the High Luminary think what she wanted. She wasn’t trying to defy their Goddess, but she was going to do whatever it took to make sure no one else bled and died because of her.
Araya couldn’t imagine any God or Goddess having a problem with that.
She stood, stepping up to the linen-draped altar.
A dozen mis-matched dishes were arranged across its surface, each holding a different material.
One overflowed with dried flower petals, pale and curling at the edges, their colors faded but not gone.
Others held fragrant herbs, their leaves dried and crumbled, while another was filled with curled wood shavings.
Araya hesitated, uncertain. If she’d ever known what to do, she’d forgotten long ago—another part of her heritage stolen and erased.
“You’re supposed to pick one,” a voice said from behind her, smooth and almost amused. “Or several, if you need to. Grind them up and sprinkle them on the coals. The smoke carries your prayer to the Goddess.”
Araya whirled, startled to find Eryn leaning against the archway leaning back into the main hall. He straightened, tucking a leather-bound folder under his arm as he crossed the room to step up beside her.
“Does she listen?” Araya asked.
Eryn’s mouth curved into a not-quite smile.
“I don’t know,” he said lightly. “But there’s a reason we call her the Absent Goddess.
” He touched his finger to the first of the bowls.
“Juniper for protection. Bay for truth. This one—” he tapped the bowl of curling bark “—is willow. It represents grief. And these—” he picked up a pinch of the dried petals “—are for longing.”
He crushed the mixture he’d assembled in his palm, sprinkling it over the brazier. The coals hissed, fragrant smoke curling into the air.
“And these—” Eryn dropped the leather-bound folder onto the altar “—are for you. Accounts from our attempts to retrieve the late king’s remains. You’ll need them to do what you proposed.”
Araya stared at the folder, her mouth suddenly dry. “They said yes?” Her heart hammered in her chest, her stomach lurching like her body wanted to reject the words. They were going to let her go back. Back to Jaxon and the privilege of being his prize possession.
“They said yes.” Eryn smiled faintly. “Ysella will need more time to gather the accountings of severed mate bonds. As you might have guessed, it’s not very common here. But I can deliver those to you at Ithralis.”
“Wonderful,” Araya said, but the word rang hollow. She twisted her fingers in her skirt, relief and dread tangling in her chest. But if severing the bond meant that Loren would be safe from whatever punishment Jaxon inflicted on her for leaving him, it was worth it.
“I’ll admit, you surprised me.” Eryn leaned against the edge of the altar, studying her. “It’s not often I find someone with the stomach to do what’s necessary, even when the path is hard to walk. I’m impressed by you, Araya Starwind.”
“I—thank you?” Araya flushed, something about the way he turned her name over in his mouth making the hair on the back of her neck prickle.
Loren’s warning about how vulnerable she was here came rushing back, leaving her all too aware of how isolated she was right now.
What would Eryn command her to do if he could?
But Eloria’s spymaster only bowed gracefully. “I hope you find the clarity you’re looking for, Miss Starwind,” he said softly, his gaze traveling to the folder. “One way or another. Safe travels.”
He left as silently as he’d appeared, his presence fading faster than the smoke rising from the brazier. Araya sucked in a steadying breath, inhaling the fragrant smoke. Then, before she could second-guess herself, she snatched up the documents, shoving them into her bag.