Thia rose from the copper tub; the water was still warm, but her mind was restless. Grabbing a towel, she wrapped it around her body and sat in a chair close to the fire.
Keroys had spoken to her, but his answers left her with more questions. How will I know when I’m ready to tap into everything he’s given me? And what did he mean by I have to reject one life and accept another? Sighing, she stared into the flames. She’d come here, hoping to find her balance with all of this. Instead, she felt more lost than ever.
Staring down at her hands, she examined them closely. They were the same as they’d been yesterday and the day before. A few callouses, broken and torn nails. A fresh scar or two. They weren’t the hands of a priestess that stayed in a temple, praying.
They were now hands that didn’t mind getting dirty.
I have to see it. I have to know.
Her fingers flew through the sigil while she muttered the incantation under her breath. Few ever learned the spell; even less dared to cast it. The air in front of her shimmered and an identical version of herself appeared. The spell was designed to confuse an attacker, allowing her to create multiple images. For this, though, she only needed the one. I’ll need to remember this one, she thought. It might come in handy . . . down there.
“Turn around,” she commanded. The image obeyed.
She reached out, intent on moving the towel, and her hand went through the duplicate. Damn it. Standing up, she unwrapped the towel around her and watched the illusionary one fall away. There, centered on her spine, was a set of golden yellow balanced scales.
Keroys’s Mark.
She bit back tears as the realization crashed down on her. It didn’t matter if she wanted this or not, she was a Daughter of Keroys. As soon as the news spread, her life would change. Daughters and Sons of Gods, the mortals they put a Mark on, were seen as heroes, sages. Advisors to crowns, courted by royalty.
All Thia wanted was to feel like she belonged somewhere, anywhere. She’d not felt that way since the day her father died.
Swiping at the tears, she dismissed the illusion. Get up, she told herself, get dressed. Go back to the chapel, talk to Keroys. This isn’t right. It’s a mistake. There’s no way anyone will come to me for advice. They see only my Fallen side.
She walked over to the chest that contained her clothes. Grabbing at what she could find, she got dressed.
“Thia? What’s wrong?” Father Philip’s voice came from the doorway.
She glanced at him as she shoved her feet into some soft shoes. “It’s a mistake. I know it is. May I use your chapel again? I must convince Keroys to remove the Mark.” She stood up and looked at him again. “Please?” Her voice quivered.
He entered the room and closed the door behind her. “Thia, sit down. There is something you need to hear.”
Her heart sank. Something was wrong, she could see it on his face. “What’s happened?”
“First, Keroys doesn’t make mistakes. He gave you this power, made you his Daughter, for a purpose. You and I may not know what it is, but he does. Trust in that.”
“Did something happen to Jinaari or Adam?” she stared at him. “Tell me, Father.”
“As far as I know, your friends are safe. Earlier today, while you were in the chapel, an acolyte was caught trying to pour something into one of the water vats in the kitchen.” He reached into a pocket of his robe and pulled out a small, glass vial. The wax seal around the cork stopper was broken, and the bottle was empty. In the firelight of her room, she could see small green drops that clung to the sides. “She was stopped, and we spoke with her.” He paused, placing the bottle on the table, then reached out and took her hands into his. “She said it was supposed to be a love potion.”
“Why are you telling me this?”
“She said she was in the market and a Fallen woman approached her. Gave her the bottle, told her how to use it, and refused coin. The apothecary master examined the contents. It was a sleeping draught, Thia. Strong enough that this small amount would’ve made every single person in the cloister fall into a deep slumber.”
She closed her eyes. The Fallen had found her? Here? Her heart began to race.
“I have no problem risking whatever I must to keep you safe. It’s the promise I gave to your father, before he died. The rest of the people here,” he paused, “they should be given the chance to decide for themselves.”
“You’re asking me to leave, aren’t you?” she whispered. “This is the only home I’ve known for fifteen years. I don’t know where to go.”
“You said your friends are staying at an inn nearby, yes? Take whatever you need. I’ll escort you myself. Keroys has set your Path before you, Thia Bransdottir. It is time that you begin to walk it.”
“I’ll . . .” she stammered. “I don’t need you to escort me. I can find it on my own.” She rose, glancing at the chest. She had an older cloak. It was worn but would still hide her face. The rest she could wear or bundle up within a blanket. Her eyes landed on the bottle. “May I have this? My friends may know more about it.”
“Whatever you need, Thia.” He rose, but she stayed on the bed. “We will see each other again. I believe that. And, when we do, I know you will have grown into your power.” Without another word, he left, closing the door behind him.
Don’t think, just act. Quickly, she put the chain shirt on over her tunic before winding the belt around her waist. The rest of her clothing she wrapped into a blanket and tied the corners to secure everything. Grabbing the bottle, she slipped it into the pouch with her box. She raised the hood of her cloak, draping it over her head, before picking up the bundle.
As she put her hand on the door, she hesitated. For the second time, she was leaving. This time felt different though.
When I walk out the gate this time, I won’t be coming back. Not to stay. This isn’t home anymore, and everyone but me knew it. Don’t think. Just go.
She ran through the courtyard to a side door. The sentry didn’t talk to her; he opened the door and closed it behind her. The sound of the latch falling into place echoed in her soul. Turning, she looked down the street, trying to remember which way Jinaari had said to go. Once she had her bearings, she ran down the dark street, one hand raised to keep the hood over her head. He had said the inn wasn’t far. She should find it easily enough. The fear made it feel like forever, but she kept moving.
Glancing down an alley, she caught sight of the sign. A green frog, standing on two legs with overflowing mugs in both hands. Warm, inviting light beckoned from the windows. The sound of music drifted out as two men stumbled through the door and into the street. She glanced back, checking to see if she was followed. Like I would know, she chided herself. If there were any Fallen out there, they’d have tried something by now. Running up the cobblestone alley, she pulled open the door and stepped inside.
A long, polished wood bar ran the length of one wall. At the far end, Caelynn was on a stage, playing and singing. Thia looked around the room. Adam and Jinaari sat at a table, watching. She moved around the rest of the patrons and fell into a seat between them, making sure her back was against the wall. The bundle she carried slid from her fingers and fell to the floor. She then buried her head in her hands.
“Thia?” Adam asked. He sounded surprised. “Is everything okay?”
“I thought you were staying at the cloister,” Jinaari said.
Raising her head, she noticed both men had moved closer to her. She wouldn’t have to speak loudly to be heard by either of them. At the same time, no one else was close enough to eavesdrop.
“There was an . . . incident.” Her voice trembled. It was impossible to keep the terror out of it.
“What sort of incident?” Jinaari’s voice was low but insistent.
“They caught an acolyte pouring something into a barrel in the kitchen. When they tested the water, it’d been poisoned.”
Adam let out a low whistle. “With what?”
“It was some sort of sleeping draught. Potent enough to put the entire cloister out for hours.” Absently, she picked at a worn spot on the surface of the table. “It wasn’t even magical. They questioned the acolyte. She said it was supposed to be a love potion. She’s been pining for someone, I guess. She got it in an alley from a Fallen.” She dug into the pouch and brought out the vial. Placing it on the table, she continued. “I didn’t find out until tonight, after they figured everything out. She didn’t try to do this until after I was there. Father Philip brought this to me and told me to leave. He didn’t think they could protect me any longer.” She paused again. “His exact words were, ‘I have no problem risking whatever I must to keep you safe. The rest of the people here, they should be given the chance to decide for themselves’.”
Jinaari reached out and picked up the vial. Thia watched him turn it over in his hand while she took some deep breaths. The panic and fear were subsiding. This was as close to safe as she could be. Both men had saved her life before. She trusted them.
“Damn,” the paladin swore.
“What?” Adam slid a mug of mead over to Thia.
“Thank you,” she muttered before raising it to her lips. The honeyed liquid slid down her throat. She rarely drank, but tonight would be the exception.
“See this mark here?” Jinaari held the bottle out to Adam. “That’s a guild marking.”
“So? The bottle was made by a glassmaker’s guild member. What’s wrong with that?” Adam asked.
Jinaari shook his head. “It’s not a glassmaker mark. That’s the seal of the Barren. They’re master assassins,” he looked at Thia, “trained by Lolc Aon herself.”
“Why can’t they just leave me alone,” she whispered. “I’m nobody. I don’t know Herasta. I’ve never been in Byd Cudd. I’m not a threat to anybody.”
“It’s not what you are now, Thia. It’s what they know you’ll become. The Gods have seen your future and are making sure the power you’ll wield one day isn’t misused.” Jinaari paused. “I told you we’d have to take the fight to Lolc Aon. It’s time.”
“You’re suggesting we go down to Byd Cudd?” Adam asked.
He nodded. “This isn’t going to stop until Lolc Aon is dead. She’s not going to come to us, so we need to go to her.”
“What if,” she drew a shuddering breath, “what if she gets to me and I change into something evil?”
“It’s not going to happen.” Jinaari took a drink from his tankard.
“But what if –”
Jinaari reached out and grasped her shoulder. “It’s not going to. Stop thinking it will. The only way to get her to stop hunting you is to kill her. And I can’t do that from here.” He stared at her. “We’ll keep you safe, Thia. Trust us.”
A tray full of drinks dropped into the center of the table, the amber liquid within sloshing over the brim of the mugs. Grinning at them, a young man turned one of the empty chairs around and sat down. “Hey, you all look way too serious! Have a drink on me.”
“This is a private conversation, friend. I suggest you find another table.” Jinaari growled at the newcomer.
The man picked up one of the tankards and drank noisily. “This is where I need to be, though. You all need to lighten up, relax. I mean, sure, you’re going down to Byd Cudd. You’ve got Fallen assassins trying to kidnap your friend there. But that’s for tomorrow. Tonight, we need to get drunk and get to know each other better.”
“You know quite a bit about us, friend. That could be a bad thing.” Adam replied.
“Look, do you honestly think that only Garret and Keroys have a stake in all of this? Lolc Aon’s pissed off most of her family with trying to poach that one,” he pointed a finger at Thia. “And they’re going to make sure she’s chastised for it.” He took another drink. “Name’s Pan, by the way.”
“Who sent you?” Thia asked.
A grin split his face. “I’m so glad you asked! Let me tell you about my Lord and Savior, Ash!”
Thia caught a look that passed between Adam and Jinaari. “Adam,” the paladin said, “why don’t you show Thia where her room is? Let her get settled. I’ll talk with this one,” he nodded at the brown-haired man.
“Good idea,” he said. “Grab your stuff, Thia.” He rose from the table, and she followed suit, picking up the bundle. As they reached the bottom of the staircase, she glanced back. The newcomer was talking, his hands gesturing toward her. Jinaari’s face was a mask.
“It’s this way,” Adam’s voice broke through her thoughts. Looking toward him, she saw him waiting on a small landing.
“Sorry,” she muttered. “I’m coming.” She followed him up the staircase.
When they got to the next landing, he stopped. “First things first. I have to key this to admit you.” He placed his hand against the wall. Pulling back, he stepped aside. “Your turn. Just place your palm on the same spot I did.”
Reaching out, she did as he instructed. The wood beneath her hand warmed up briefly. “Is that it?” she asked.
“Almost.” He repeated the motion with his own hand again. “It should work now. Try it.”
She placed her palm back on the spot, and the wall in front of them shimmered.
“Let’s go,” he said, smiling. “Ladies first.”
Thia walked through the doorway, amazed. A circular common room, with an assortment of couches and chairs. Five doors led off the room. “This is amazing,” she breathed.
“My room’s here,” he pointed toward the closest door on the left. “Caelynn’s next to me, then Jinaari. I’d recommend this one,” he walked to the end of the right wall. “If Pan does join us, that keeps someone between you and the entry. If they manage to find it.” Adam opened the door.
She entered and stopped short. The room held a good-sized fireplace, a bed that was twice the size of the one she’d had at the cloister, and a pair of chests. Two chairs and a small table sat near the fireplace. “What’s behind that?” she asked, pointing to an archway on the same wall as the bed.
“My favorite part!” Adam exclaimed. “Especially if we’ve been on the road for a while.” He gestured at the bed. “Might as well put your stuff down there,” he suggested as he led her to the door. He pushed it open, flattening against the frame so Thia could look past him easily. “I gave us each our own bath chamber.”
The room was small, dominated by a large copper tub. “If you touch the sides, it’ll fill with hot water. Took some work to get the spells right, but it’s easier than hauling water up by the bucket.”
“There’s no windows anywhere,” she commented. “How do we know if it’s morning?”
His face grew serious. “That was on purpose. We didn’t want to be spied on, have people try to see if we were here, etc. This wall here,” he pointed to the one across from the entry to the room, “can be whatever you want me to make it. Just tell me and I’ll do the spell work. It’ll be an illusion, but you’ll be able to control it.”
Staring at the blank wood, she asked, “Anything?”
“Sure.”
“When I was young, Papa took me to the ocean. We sat on top of a cliff and watched the stars fall from the sky all night long. It was so beautiful, peaceful.” She paused. “Byd Cudd is underground, isn’t it?
“Yes.”
“And it’s likely to take several weeks to get there, and back out?”
He nodded. “What about it?”
“I’m thinking,” she sighed, “that I’d love to be able to have something open. Where I can see the sun rise, the tide come in, watch stars fall as the day fades into night. Does that make sense?”
“It does.” He smiled at her. “I’m going to head over to my room, let you get settled. Jinaari will figure out who this Pan is, let us know in the morning. Get some rest, Thia. The bed will be more comfortable here than we’re likely to get on the way. There aren’t any inns we’ll want to stop at. I anticipate a lot of sleeping on the ground, like we did under Tanisal.”
Without another word, he left. She unhooked her cloak, draping it across one of the chairs, before pulling off the chain shirt and unpacking the few possessions she had. Her box she set on top of a chest, near the head of her bed.
Sitting on the bed, she tested the mattress. Adam was right. It was comfortable. A wave of exhaustion washed over her. She slipped off her shoes and curled up under the blankets. She was safe here. At least for tonight.