NAYOME HINEK WATCHED FROM behind one of the great columns in the Vault as the Essera inclined her head toward Cinzia— an ex-priestess, for Canta’s bloody sake—and swiftly removed herself from the room.
While Nayome had meant what she had said, about wanting to stay behind and leave whatever business Cinzia had in the Vault to her, she apparently had not been completely honest with herself. Not long after Cinzia walked through the painting door and into the corridor, Nayome had slipped after her. She had called for her personal Goddessguard to gather others and retrieve the Beldam, of course—if the woman had any life left in her, she would see to it that she paid for her heresy—and had thus stepped into the corridor behind Cinzia with a generally free conscience.
When she heard voices inside the room, Nayome had crept as silently as she could into the Vault, hiding herself behind one of the columns closest to the wall, and began to listen.
To say that she had been shocked to recognize the voice of the Essera, having a conversation with Cinzia, would have been the understatement of the Age. What the most powerful woman in the Sfaera was doing speaking to a lowly ex-priestess, Nayome could not begin to guess, and their conversation had only left her more confused. Bits about needs and wants had left Nayome intensely curious as to the Essera’s intentions. She clearly did not seem party to the absolute heresy of the Cult within the Denomination, but the fact that she treated Cinzia with such friendliness made Nayome wonder.
Nayome could remember taking Cinzia under her wing at the seminary; the girl had been a year behind Nayome at the time, and Nayome had seen something of herself in the small, unusually pretty girl. Not the prettiness, of course, Nayome had never had any illusions about such things for herself, but in the girl’s intellect and curiosity, certainly.
They had lost touch after Nayome moved on from the seminary, climbing the ranks of the Arm of Inquisition. She had almost forgotten about her friend until the day she was tasked with investigating the Oden family; in that moment, she had remembered Cinzia’s name, and knew in her heart that the girl—the woman, at that point—would already be in Navone.
And now here that same woman was, no longer a priestess, no longer part of the Denomination at all, but nevertheless conversing with the Essera herself.
The jealousy bloomed in Nayome’s chest, so powerful she could sense it clouding her vision.
But Nayome was nothing if not prudent; she waited patiently for the conversation to take its course, and then after the Essera had left, she prepared herself to confront Cinzia. But as she had rounded the pillar, she’d witnessed a strange flash of crimson light, and then Cinzia was gone.
Nayome was alone in the Vault.
“Oblivion,” she muttered, staring at the place Cinzia had occupied not moments before. Where had she gone, and how?
Nayome’s anger faded—somewhat—and she could not help but look in awe around her at the artifacts on each of the pedestals. She dared not pick any up—the Essera’s warning to Cinzia before she had picked up Canta’s Heart had been frightening enough. She could not imagine what unpleasant surprises the other artifacts might have for the poor soul that thought it a good idea to ignorantly pick one up.
That did not stop her, however, from admiring each of them.
She found herself particularly drawn to the strange dagger. The weapon appeared ageless; Nayome felt she could be looking at a dagger millennia old or one that had just been forged, and neither answer would surprise her. The bright blue jewel set in the pommel particularly caught her attention, and it was with some effort that she finally pulled herself away and sought the only other artifact in the room she knew anything about, based on Cinzia’s conversation with the Essera.
The pages.
The Essera had said that these pages would tell Cinzia the truth—that they held the answers to the questions that Cinzia had been obsessing over. Cinzia was clearly having a crisis of faith, and not just a crisis in relation to the Denomination. Nayome recognized disillusionment and malcontent when she saw it; she had made it her life’s business, after all.
And, now that Cinzia and the Essera were gone, and now that the Nine Daemons were on the rise and the Sfaera was falling apart all around her, Nayome walked up to the pedestal that held the document, reached for the first sheet with one hand, and began to read the words that immediately appeared on the page.