Chapter 32 #2
‘An exceptionally rare one. One that has died once already,’ she had said.
‘Secretly, carefully, I have been searching for such a thing, Lucian, and I am sure we are getting close.’ The wind had blown her red hair away from her face and she had closed her eyes, as though making a wish.
She had looked beatific, almost peaceful in that moment, yet Lucian had been anything but.
The idea that she might try and strike down their god—the being that he had devoted all his life and training to—wasn’t just ludicrous, it was insulting.
An abomination. What did she expect them to do?
Shatter the statues of the Bloody Claw and put up new ones, statues of Mother Maura, a mortal?
And then would the acolytes be expected to go on bended knee to her?
The idea of grovelling to Maura for his magic…
The reverence and respect he had always carried for his mistress had splintered on that clifftop, becoming something lethal and sharp.
He had known better than to say any of that to her, though. He had waited instead, hoping to speak to their lord himself—perhaps by revealing Maura’s treasonous plan he could win the Bloody Claw’s gratitude.
But he didn’t make it.
He never knew what had given him away. Perhaps he just wasn’t as good at hiding his true emotions as he thought.
Maura might have looked at him in an unguarded moment and seen his treachery brewing there as easily as she saw his tawny eyes.
Or perhaps he simply wasn’t enthusiastic enough when she conducted her searches for this so-called poison sacrifice.
Either way, one night he was dragged from his narrow bed in Prideful Leap and brought to a piece of the shattered mountain, the night sky wheeling overhead.
The rest of her inner circle had been there, fear and caution on every face, and she had…
not killed him, no, but drawn his soul out of his body and cast it to the winds.
As good as dead, really, her last words to him ringing like a bell.
You’ll serve me or you’ll die. Perhaps one day you’ll learn that lesson.
Never.
Lucian lifted his head slowly. It felt heavy with the sheer weight of memories that had been reawakened within him, and he found he barely had the energy to sit up, which was a problem because there was a dead priest next to him and someone could walk in on him at any moment.
With effort, he rubbed his bloody hand on the trousers of the priest, cleaning it as best he could.
There was too much to take in. He was a mage, yes, and once he had been the most promising mage dedicated to the Bloody Claw, but Mother Maura had seen what he was and severed his mind from his body.
He didn’t know how he had ended up inside Artair’s body, but it hardly mattered, because Mother Maura had found him at the monastery and in a final act of humiliation, had forced him to do her bidding again.
Maura, who had sent Artair into the forest to find a monster…
Several things slotted into place at once, and despite his weary limbs Lucian scrambled to his feet, his heart thudding in his chest.
‘What have you figured out?’ asked Tisk, who had appeared next to him in a wink of orange light. ‘Something exciting, by the look on your face.’
‘It was never about the monster cub,’ said Lucian, barely looking at the other god.
‘It’s about Elver . She died that day at Addersport, but the Queen of Serpents brought her back and filled her with poison.
Elver is the poison sacrifice, and Maura knew she had to draw her out of the forest, away from the protection of the queen…
’ He trailed off. ‘And I bet the monster girl is on her way there right now. Damn the Twelve into oblivion.’
‘I’ll try not to take that personally,’ said Tisk. ‘So what are you going to do about it?’
There was a squeak from the chamber beyond the altar, a boot moving over a polished surface, and Tisk vanished just as a figure appeared in the doorway.
It was a woman in her late twenties, her brown skin lined deeply around the eyes, as though she spent a great deal of time frowning.
She frowned now as she took in the scene around the lion, and Lucian realized he knew her.
‘You,’ she spat. ‘I thought I told you not to come back to Ashingdown, you idiot.’ She strode over to the altar and shook her head. As a mage of the Bloody Claw she was largely unconcerned at the sight of dead bodies but she did look increasingly agitated. ‘What pretty mess is this now?’
‘Dalesh!’ Lucian grabbed her arm and shook it, half laughing. ‘It’s me! I mean, I don’t look like I used to, but don’t tell me you’ve forgotten already. You were like a sister, or at least a sister I didn’t like very much. It’s me, it’s Lucian.’
Dalesh shrugged his hand away abruptly.
‘Artair, you want to start making sense pretty sharpish or I’ll have you back in the Temple of Trilot before you can spit.’
‘I’m not Artair, I’m Lucian. Look, I…’ He paused, wracking his brain for the thing that would convince her, and convince her quickly.
‘Mother Maura once sent us to set a snare to catch a deer. She wanted to sacrifice it, but your trap caught a rabbit, and you set it free even though we knew she’d have taken that instead.
You said that… You said that Milik the Small would see it as a grave insult and you didn’t want your room infested with mice forever after, but really, you thought the bunny too adorable to die.
You swore me to secrecy, and I truly never told a soul. ’
Dalesh was very still.
‘Lucian is dead,’ she said, although she did not sound at all sure.
‘You’re only half right,’ he said. ‘Listen to me, Dalesh. I need your help, and we have very little time.’