37. 36
Davian’s grief consumed us both, and we sat in it for days. I kept us fed, and bathed him as his silence drowned him. Rarely, he allowed me to coax him into the back garden. It lasted minutes, only.
I left once, against my will, to go to the prison once more.
My name had come up too often, and I was put under Oath myself.
It was much shorter than Davian or Camriel’s ordeal had been, and if I had to guess, I had Petros to thank for that.
There was only one person questioning me, and those questions were limited in scope.
Nothing was asked about my unauthorised visit to Juven, or, frankly, any of my time spent in this prison.
Petros himself was administering the Oath, and from his tight-lipped reticence and accusatory looks, I had the feeling he had told Aseem or the questioner herself not to pry too hard, to save his own skin.
I was careful not to volunteer anything that would get Petros in trouble, for my own safety.
Nevertheless, the feeling of the truth being drawn from my lips was deeply unpleasant.
After determining my own innocence of the crimes, I was asked about Davian, and whether he had collaborated with Camriel.
With the truth pulled from my mouth, I couldn’t help but snap at the sunner asking the question for the torment they had put an innocent man through.
Mostly, though, I was asked about Robar, and my involvement with him and my awareness of his actions in regards to Jusia.
After Camriel, they had gone after everyone who had arranged for a ‘delivery’ of a devotee.
In the end, it was only three Houses who had had devotees stolen from them under these ill guises.
The House of the Moon, whose devotee had never been reported missing as they believed she had recently gone on the Silent Pilgrimage.
From Camriel’s notes, a servant within their household had in fact tricked her into a meeting point, where Camriel had incapacitated her.
That servant had quit shortly after, likely due to the substantial sum he had received for delivering her, and a search was now underway.
The other two betrayed victims were Jusia and Saskia.
A devotee of the House of the Sea was arrested in connection to Saskia on the same day as my Oath. I saw him enter as I left.
Then, Robar had been arrested the day after my Oath. The fourth day after Camriel’s oath. He was released only one day later. Whether that was due to an innocence of his mind, or a generous donation from Ion, was unclear.
All the other victims had been killed without interference from another party.
The devotee of Agriculture had been found drunkenly stumbling around Dytho.
Camriel found the War devotee on his visit to the Valle Gallus front, already dying from his wounds.
Merriment’s child, Camriel’s son, was believed to have been lured away by Juven alone.
The final three: Pain, Wisdom, and the Sun, were his own friends.
Those who he himself had betrayed to the highest order, sheltered under his roof.
On the fifth day, they hanged Camriel.
He swung from one of the pillars on the roof of the prison.
We did not attend the hanging, but Eliza did.
She said she had never seen so many people come to watch one before.
A memory of a hanging I had seen as a kid flashed in my head each night.
They would keep him there for days, and then his body would be released to our House.
Davian and I hadn’t spoken of him, or what Davian intended to do with his body. We buried our dead. But Camriel had burned Seera.
I wrote to Yona with an apology for not returning to The Curved Eclipse for a proper conversation, but that too much had happened to even know where to begin.
The tone of my letter alone must have concerned her because she showed up the next day.
Of course, she hated that I hadn’t asked her for help, but mostly she held me while I cried.
When she said that I could always come back if anything happened, I knew she didn’t just mean as a courtesan, but as a friend.
Theolis also visited. Twice. The first time, we sent her away.
The second, I sat with her, and our tea ran cold.
There were questions. Each member of the House was brought under the Oath, other than Davian, who had recently been spoken to.
They were eventually satisfied that Camriel had operated alone.
Aseem had tried to find Granville, and failed.
Whether my conversation had spooked him enough to leave Dytho, or if he was simply hiding himself well behind that faded yellow door, I didn’t know.
Davian and I had slept in the same bed each night since I had found him in the cellar. It wasn’t romantic in nature. We both stayed awake until sleep consumed us, our eyes puffy and throats worn. Most days, I fell asleep in the same dress I had been wearing all day.
When he awoke in the night, in a sweat, and realised this wasn’t just a nightmare, I would hold him until he settled.
Nearly a week passed in this pattern. On the sixth day, we ate a simple breakfast. His appetite was increasing, and I had even made him smile that morning.
It gave me the strength to leave him in the lounge, in the company of Whip and Carnage.
They had been Davian’s constant companions since our return.
It was as if they could sense he was hurt.
Or, awfully, they missed Fella and Camriel.
Still, I was glad he had something to watch over him. There was something I had to do.
The sun beat through my cloak, warming the black lines etched into my back. We had passed the apex of the summer now, but you couldn’t tell in the midst of the day like this. I waited with my hands clasped before the front door of my old House, my head bowed.
To my surprise, it wasn’t Ben who opened the door.
My old Leader, her hair wrapped in red silk and her ears dripping with pearls, looked at me up and down. I tensed, knowing how she had all but thrown me out last time.
“Annie,” Talia said. “You look awful.”
I choked out a laugh. “Yes, I know.”
She stared at me, and I tried to work out what to say. I had thought I’d have a moment to compose myself, or that I’d have an easier target to address.
Talia frowned. “Are you here for Ekris?”
I blinked at how easily she saw through me even now. I bobbed my head. “I need to speak with him, if you will permit it. One last time.”
For a second, we both stood there. Two flames of Ekris. Now just two people on either side of a door.
Talia stepped back and pulled the door wider, wafting me in. “Come in, my girl.”
My breath caught as I crossed the threshold. My emotions were hanging by a thread, and it was fraying. Her invitation, calling me hers, as she had before, and the smell of the incense in the marble hall: it was too much. I sniffed back the tears that were held only by the most fragile of dams.
Talia took my cloak, and I thanked her.
She hushed me, and I met her gaze in confusion.
“Thank you,” she said, and tutted. I narrowed my eyes. “For catching him.”
I swallowed, hard. “How did you know?”
Her face betrayed nothing, but she had never thanked me before for anything. She may as well have been beaming for how much she had thrown me. “The House Leaders had a symposium. Your name was mentioned.”
“Oh.”
Talia reached out, and placed a hand on my shoulder. “This House will always be open to you.”
For her. For Jusia. For avenging her girl. But I hadn’t saved her. I hadn’t done enough. Talia’s hand, uncomfortably warm against my shoulder, broke the dam. My face fell, and my eyes welled. “I should have found him earlier. He nearly killed more.”
“None of this is your fault. None of it.” Talia was adamant, as she was in all things, and at all times.
But if I was truthful with myself, and my vision wasn’t lying through the fog of tears, then I noticed her lip wobble, ever so slightly.
Her hand lifted, and she nudged my chin. “Now straighten up and face your God.”
I forced my shoulders back, and wiped the tears from my face. “Yes, ma’am. Thank you.”
Talia only shook her head, and led me through the halls to the altar. I used the time to shake off the desire to curl into a ball and sob. I was here now, and there would be time for more tears later. This was about me, and my former God.
She hadn’t sounded the gong, so when she pushed the doors to the altar open, there was only one guard, and no one lined up. Talia waited for me to go inside, and then closed the door.
Privacy. Of course, back when Ekris was mine, and his mark was singing with his love, I could hear him from time to time in my own head. But outsiders never spoke with Ekris alone. This was a token of Talia’s respect and appreciation.
I reached the edge of his fountain, and stared up at him.
Ekris. The most beautiful of the Gods. His marble thighs were perfectly carved under the red robe, and his face had a square jaw and a perfect rounded chin, his lips wide and parted as if ready to bestow a kiss. His curls were cherubic, his eyes kind.
I called to him. Softly. “Ekris?”
Without hesitation, he spoke to me. Annie. You returned.
His voice washed through my ears, and I shuddered. It had been so long since I had heard him. “I have missed you,” I admitted.
I heard the smile in his reply. It was one of the first things that made me fall in love with him as a girl. That hint of humour lacing his tongue. As I have missed you.
I took a breath. This was Ekris. A God, yes. Something to be worshipped and cherished. But also, a friend to me. Someone I had to be honest with, now and always.
I cleared my throat. “I have something I must tell you.”
As you wish.