He would lose everything.
Tash swallowed hard and coughed to disguise his discomfort. Mayr would never forgive him if Adren or Ress betrayed them. He would leave Tash, fast and full of rage, and Arieve would stay by Mayr's side as Tash's replacement. Disgust would be thrown in his face, sending him back to where he began: alone, loathed, and lost.
Trying not to alert anyone as he breathed deep to calm his nerves, Tash fussed with his veil, pretending to struggle until it fell in an acceptable way. He would not be an emotional mess, not when the long-overdue meeting with Keeper Felensa could change Adren's life for the better.
Think better. Bigger. Happier. Tash guided Adren around the corner of the long corridor and into another. At the end were the ornate bronze and gold doors to the library.
On command, his chaotic thoughts shifted into a cascade of relief. Contrary to Mayr's concerns, the ride to the Sanctum had been uneventful. The only assault came from the barrage of priests eager to meet Adren, an excitement Tash handled with all the patience he could muster. Snow and ice had slowed the carriage and six guards on horseback, but they arrived safely, albeit late. By that time, the evening meal and prayers had ended and Keeper Felensa was detained by business.
Regardless, the priests had received them graciously with a warm meal, friendly conversation, and soft beds. Adren had one of the largest quarters, a grand suite of white marble and ice-blue crystal with a sunken bath, a stately hearth beneath a jewel-encrusted mantel, and an elegant silver bed on a raised platform, surrounded by voluminous red silk curtains. It had taken three priestesses, two priests, and both Ress and Tash to convince Adren ce could accept the room. The argument ended once Ress pulled Adren into the room and locked the door.
Tash, Armamae, and Pellon had rooms of their own in the same hallway as Adren and Ress's suite. Their rooms were smaller and less majestic, lacking the crystal and metal decoration. Meant for the attendants and guards of the Goddess-touched, the rooms were centuries old, built when the Sanctum had entertained others like Adren. Since the war that sent the magical families into hiding, the Sanctum had few visitors. The rooms in which they stayed had not been occupied in several generations. Still, they were well-kept and welcoming, lit by white candles in stunning bronze lanterns and stocked with more blankets and pillows than Tash had ever desired to use.
The eight guards that accompanied them were split between four rooms. During the night, the guards had rotated watch in pairs. Tash had listened to their quiet footfalls until dawn. Unable to sleep, he spent most of the night on the floor inside a circle of candles wearing nothing but a white silk sheet. With materials from the Sanctum priests, he had crafted two bracelets. The first took the longest, its earthy-coloured yarns plaited and entwined with gold embroidery. The second was of thick gold thread, polished red and brown wooden beads, and bronze toggles. Once they were finished, he had moved to the windows overlooking the snowy courtyard and written to Mayr.
Tash completed the letter by sunrise, filling it with the reassurance that he had arrived safely and in full health. More than that, the message had blossomed into a love letter that encompassed both his deepening affections for Mayr and his burgeoning adoration for Arieve. Words spilled over pages he had never intended to write. He had scribbled furiously, pouring images into prose, stretching emotions as far they would go. Every letter and space between gave life to sentiments he could not speak.
At dawn, he had wrapped the letter and bracelets in white canvas, then asked one of the Rese-level priests to deliver the package to Dahena. Although the package would arrive the day before Tash returned, the tokens were necessary, meant in love and apology for leaving so rashly. He was accustomed to doing things the instant they needed to be done, without negotiating with a partner. At one time, however, he had known how to be more than a lover. For half of his time with Inesta, he had considered what it was to be a husband. How it could feel. Her ultimatum had come shortly after he decided to ask her to marry him—a proposal that never made it from his lips. Instead, he had choked back the words and drunk them away.
Now he was considering every meaning of marriage and partnership. His duty was to Mayr as much as it was to the Temple, but the invisible boundary between them wavered. It was never clear, never set. He needed to be both husband and priest, to be everything to everyone. Yet the line constantly divided one from the other as though they were not connected. One day he would be forced to choose between them once again—a choice he would have to keep making.
"Hey," a deep voice said. Fingers gripped Tash's shoulder. "You sure we need to keep walking? I'm pretty sure the library's right here."
Jolted by the interruption, Tash blinked, surprised to find the open doorway to the library to his right instead of in front of him. The fanciful carvings of twisted birds at play and winding vines with bursts of tear-shaped petals stood out from the bronze and gold doors, exquisite in their craftsmanship. Clusters of red and white jewels formed the birds' eyes and the centres of the flowers.
How he could have passed it was a wonder. If his thoughts continued to be elsewhere, what else would he miss?
"Thanks, Pellon," Tash muttered. Clearing his throat, he turned and gave Pellon a strained smile. "And thank you for being here. I appreciate your help."
Pellon's grin complemented the laughter in his blue-green eyes, as intense as his red hair. Taller than the others in their group, Pellon was impossible to miss, his broad, muscular frame obvious under layers of dark, long-sleeved tunics, quilted brown leather vest, and dark brown long coat. The boyish honesty and mischief in his gaze only made him seem less menacing. "Aw, come on. I've always got your backs." He elbowed Tash gently, his voice lowered. "You don't have to keep thanking me. What's important to Mayr is important to me."
"Still, thank you."
"Quit it." Pellon waved both hands, his tongue sticking out playfully. "Go on, get leading. I'm just here to look pretty."
Adren snorted. "Like that's possible."
"What?" Pellon pouted. "You don't think I'm pretty?"
"I can't even…" Adren grunted and stared at Tash. "Can we just go? I'm about to say something I'm going to regret. Badly."
To the sound of Pellon's laughter, Tash led Adren through the doorway. They stopped in the middle of the antechamber, the rest of the group falling into place around them.
Adren turned slowly, cir jaw dropped. "This place really doesn't pull punches, does it?"
Tash smiled his agreement. Grandiose and bright like the rest of the library, the antechamber served as a reading room. Long boxed seats with plush, deep purple cushions and silver tassels were spread out along the white walls, beneath the silver-framed windows. Above, circular windows in the ceiling formed red and white spirals. Strands of crystals hung from the centre of the ceiling to the corners, connected by a glass orb speckled with crystalline dust, casting a multitude of colours through the room.
"Only the best for the descendants of the gods," Tash answered.
"Particularly when they come a-calling," Keeper Felensa's voice added from the second doorway. "Sparing nothing is only a portion of what we owe our benevolent Four."
Felensa entered the antechamber, his robes sweeping across the floor behind him. Slender and slightly taller than Tash, Felensa moved with grace and little sound. His long white hair fell to his hips and ended in tight curls, stark against his rich brown skin and red veil. Dressed in full vestments like Tash and Armamae, Felensa wore the regalia of a Keeper of the Sacred Assembly: a white gold circlet crafted from intricately twisted metal and bright red jewels, a thick choker of white and red diamonds, and a set of gold rings on both hands with matching bracers. Each finger bore an engraved ring and delicate gold chain that draped over his knuckles and attached to a ring on the back of his hand, forming a web. From that ring, a single chain connected to a gold bracer formed from three narrow cuffs, the bands connected by tiers of fine scales up Felensa's bony forearms.
"Greetings, and wel
come to our humble Sanctum," Felensa said, stopping in front of Adren with a bow. "Brother Halataldris, Brother Armamae, welcome to the home of my heart." His grey-green gaze shone before he dipped his head towards Tash.
A cue, not merely a formality, Tash realized as Armamae tapped his elbow. Those who escort the Goddess-touched announce them… and I'm already late on that.
Tash cleared his throat and offered Adren his hand, relieved ce accepted. He lifted Adren's hand towards Felensa. "Keeper, it is my greatest honour to introduce the Goddesses' divine child, Adren of Elsove Hillock, blood of a lineage yet to be named. Descendant of a magnanimous heart, ce is touched by the sacred."
Felensa bowed again, low and steady despite being twice Tash's age. "It is my honour to receive you, Descendant Adren. May our work please your Goddess Mother." He stood and clasped his hands. "In my humility, I must ask for your forgiveness twice-over. I intended to receive you last night but was called to a meeting I could not leave. I also failed to receive you properly this morning for the same reason." Tight lines pulled around his smile. "It appears my trip has snuck up on many, including the other Keepers." With a third, shorter bow, Felensa pressed his hand to his chest. "Please accept my sincerest gratitude for coming."
The antechamber fell silent. Felensa's expectant gaze remained on Adren's.
When Tash squeezed cir hand, Adren's face reddened. "Yes, of course," ce said. "I don't see why you're…" Adren withdrew cir hand from Tash's. "It's fine, honest. I'm just here to talk. Or listen. Something."
"Whatever you wish, Descendant." Felensa nodded to Tash, his glance flicking to Ress.
If Felensa was testing Tash's ability as Adren's guardian, Tash suspected he was already failing. "Keeper, I would also like to introduce Ress of Araveena Ford, blood of an Untouched lineage, through Sebina and Telumic. Ress is Adren's companion."
"Well met, Ress." Felensa bowed his head, though his gaze lingered on Ress.
Curious to know why he was transfixed, Tash followed his line of sight: the skull and fist of the Shar-denn tattoo on Ress's left forearm, visible in its entirety since Ress had rolled up his sleeves at breakfast.
Ress turned down his sleeves, saying nothing.
Felensa's attention broke. He peered over Tash's shoulder. "It's also a pleasure to see you again, Pellon Emeranth. I don't often speak with anyone of the Langalose-Emeranth lineage, save your fathers a month ago. Sorys and Wynn are well and send their regards."
Tash jerked back, his skin prickling. Names? Formal lineage? Since when does he have those? Even Ress's eyes widened before they narrowed in Pellon's direction.
Pellon cursed loudly.
"You can't possibly be Goddess-touched too," Tash said.
A dark flush coloured Pellon's cheeks. He rubbed the back of his neck and rocked on his heels. "Worse: a regular boring aristocrat," he mumbled.
Murmurs sounded from the guards behind Pellon. The hue of his embarrassment deepened, his gaze darting across the floor. "I'm the not-so-grand son of a Grand Family and so completely estranged in the most special of ways," Pellon said quietly. "No one's supposed to know." He glowered at Felensa then turned away in a rant of unfinished expletives.
"It seems Sorys wants it to be known. He asked me to address you as such the next time we met." Felensa frowned. "Although it sounds like I should apologize. I was under the impression it was on better terms."
Pellon's snort led to a strangled laugh. "I'm sure it was, for your part. Makes me wonder how he knew you'd met me."
Felensa grimaced. "My fault, I'm afraid. We were at a gathering. Sorys looks so much like you, I asked if you were related. When he realized I knew you, he was quick to offer conversation."
"I'm sure he was. He's real good at that, especially when he wants something." Pellon crossed his arms. "He can get anyone to talk, including those who should know better." The fury in his eyes raged, his glare sharp with intent. For all their sakes, his soured thoughts needed to be diverted.
"Pellon, look at me, no one else." Tash grasped Pellon's wrist and squeezed gently. "Does Mayr know? Aeley?"
Pellon blinked. The corners of his eyes softened. "Yeah," he said. "I was sent to train with Korre's guard. I was supposed to go back home and run their guard and secure assets." He stared at Tash's fingers around his arm. "I stayed with Korre instead. I've never wanted the plan my fathers have for me, not when I'm with people I care for. The best thing they ever did was ship me to Korre's doorstep. Other than that, I'm all but disowned." His weak smile looked lost on his sad face. "It's why I love spending time with Lira. She gets it."
A scowl blew his expression away. Pellon whirled around and jabbed his finger at the whispering guards, silencing them. "If any of you share this, I'll skewer and pickle your balls and tits, and Aeley will make sure you never work again. Understood?" He growled, deep and long. "Under. Bloody. Stood?"
The guards nodded and mumbled their agreement.
"Now," Pellon said, turning back to Tash, "can we stop picking on my sorry ass and get back to business? Sooner this happens, sooner I'll forget wanting to skin someone."
Or drink it off and forget completely, Tash wanted to add, noting the truth scrawled across Pellon's face. Never had he seen Pellon so defeated. He was usually cheerful, always in control, and rarely spoke with such hate.
Perhaps it was a carefully crafted illusion like the image Tash put on for others.
"Allow me to introduce myself, Descendant Adren." Felensa cleared his throat, drawing all gazes back to him. "I am Felensa of Garsy Isle, one of four Keepers of the Sacred Assembly. Like the other Keepers, I manage the affairs of the Sacred Assembly and assist in the needs of the Temples of the Four. However, my main responsibility is this Sanctum and all matters pertaining to the Goddess-touched." He gestured to the antechamber with both hands. "Welcome to my home, where I spend half my time. When I'm not with my fellow priests, pestering government officials, or on the hunt for information, I am here. This is my life."
"But it's a library," Adren muttered, "and from what I hear, you don't have many Goddess-touched to deal with. I'm sorry it must be boring."
"Ah, but that's in the eye of the beholder, and you haven't seen everything." Felensa's bright smile made him appear years younger. "The Sanctum is more than a library: it's a sanctuary from the mundane, protected by old magic. It's filled with secrets and story and wonder. In the forty years I've been Keeper, I've lost myself countless times in these pages. I've dreamed among the artifacts, whisked away by legend and awe. I've stood ready to serve, waiting for someone who might need help." His hand trembled as he reached for Adren, hesitating before he tapped cir hand. "And here you are, Descendant. In you, the Sanctum once again fulfills its purpose, offering knowledge and shelter. You may even find the rest of yourself."
"Maybe." Adren breathed out. "It can't be any less helpful than anything else. I don't have much to lose."
Ress pulled cir close, one arm around cir waist. "Hey, now," he murmured, kissing Adren's neck. "Keep working on positive thoughts, dear heart. Maybe this place will make an optimist out of you."
"For my benefit or yours?" Adren snickered and ruffled Ress's dark hair.
"How about both," Ress grumbled, smoothing his hair back. "You owe me for that. I can embarrass myself just fine, thanks."
Felensa chuckled. "Please, follow me."
Tash guided Adren forward, flanked by Pellon and the other guards. They entered the next room, the usual heaviness of their boots muted.
As sunny as the antechamber and even larger, the second room was filled with black wood tables and benches for research and writing. On each long table stood two crystal candelabrums, one near each end, holding eight white candles of various lengths. White leather cases sat at the centre of each table, containing multiple white quills and inkwells with various shades of red, black, green, and blue ink. Blank beige parchment lay in stacks under white stone paperweights. Spiraled book stands fashioned from white marble stood close to the windo
ws, where frosted glass panes spanned from floor to ceiling on both sides of the room.
They strolled through the doorway at the end and stopped in a corridor. In front of them, the wall resembled a sheet of ice engraved with the image of the Goddesses. When viewed from the leftmost angle, the images glimmered with silver veins as though they bled metal. From the rightmost angle, the veins shimmered like liquid gold. Every angle in between yielded a different metallic shine, and a soft white glow emanated from below.
Tash swallowed back the memories that taunted him. The glass offered nothing as surreal as the truth, despite its magic. The artistry was sound, but it missed the mark on reality.
Still, all four deities were represented in painstaking detail. Emeraliss, Goddess of Love, stood barefoot in the middle, draped in layers of wispy gown and precious jewels. Her hair tumbled to her thighs in a cascade of untamed waves and tiny braids decorated with ribbons and beads. A majestic scepter rested in her right hand, while Halataldris, the Father of All Birds, perched on her left forearm. In a flourish of feathers, tail, and opened wings, Halataldris looked ready to take flight and sing. His longest and most complex song was reserved for when the entire world needed to be lulled into peace. With the silkiness of every fallen feather, he dispersed hope. With the quietest warble, he could pull any heart from despair.
Beside Emeraliss was Laytia, the Goddess of Wisdom, in a sleeveless pleated gown. Her tiered skirt was embellished with cords of nuts and fruit, and its ghostly hem faded into the background in airy tatters. Strands of dew drops and tears hung from the lace sash around her waist, between chains of rings and tree-shaped charms. Laytia's knee-length hair was twisted and bound in four sections, secured with plaited twine like the bundles of stalks at harvest. She clutched a scepter in her left hand, while the six Eseldeer seeing stones were presented in her outstretched right hand. Believed to be the oldest stones in existence—shards snatched from the birth of the universe as its predecessor burst at the seams—the Eseldeer granted the power to see past, present, and future within the invisible webs that bound them. When set together to form the thread that connected all things, the Eseldeer became the spindle around which time wound. If one of the Eseldeer were lost, life, death, and the worlds in between would bleed into one another, blending into a new consciousness, chaotic and uncertain. Should all of the Eseldeer be lost or destroyed, the universe would unwind, unravel, and collapse into a new darkness without end.
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