Sapient Salvation 4: The Claiming (Sapient Salvation Series)

by Jayne Faith

  I stepped out of my room and nearly ran headlong into Hera.

  “Oh!” I stumbled back and my heel hit the door that had closed behind me. “My apologies, um, Mistress.”

  I suddenly realized I wasn’t exactly sure of the proper way to address her, and standing there with my back against the door and having to tip my head up like a child to meet the tall Calistan woman’s eyes didn’t exactly boost my confidence.

  She brandished her ever-present tablet, nearly brushing my nose with it. “After a night with the Lord, a woman of the harem is expected to return here thirty minutes before the end of breakfast service. At the latest. Breakfast service ended ten minutes ago.” The clear implication was that “on time” was better than “late” only by the tiniest technicality, and I obviously hadn’t even come close.

  That detail about what time I was supposed to return was probably part of the rulebook in a chapter I hadn’t read yet. A charge of defiance shot through me. “Lord Toric invited me to remain in his bedchamber as long as I wanted to.”

  She pressed her lips in disapproval but did not offer any argument or reprimand.

  “Your exam is scheduled for three days from now, immediately following lunch service,” she said.

  Consternation tried to twist my expression into a pout. I’d been under the impression that I’d have as long as I needed to study. I hadn’t even made it halfway through my first read of the giant manual of rules for harem life, let alone gotten down to the task of really memorizing the contents.

  Instead of glaring, I forced my features into a pleasant smile. “Thank you, I’ll be ready.”

  I dropped a little curtsy and then sidestepped past her and walked away at the fastest clip I could manage, trying to escape before she could say anything else.

  Which task to tackle first—Clarisse or Sytoria?

  Breakfast service was over, but many women lingered over their tea even after the food was cleared away, so I decided to go to the cafeteria to see if I could catch either woman there.

  Lingering aromas of breads, bacon, and coffee met me when I arrived, and my stomach grumbled in response. I spotted Sytoria sitting at a table with two other women. Ignoring my hunger pangs, I beelined for her.

  When she saw me, she stopped mid-sentence and watched my approach through narrowed eyes. With her waves of deep golden hair and eyes like jewels, she was a very beautiful woman. But it was her confidence, the way she held herself, that made her more attractive and downright sexier than the women around her.

  I reached her table and glanced at the other two women, who I didn’t know by name, then gave Sytoria a direct, unblinking look. “May I speak to you alone?”

  Her cheek twitched, and at first that was her only response as she regarded me in silence for a long moment. “You may.”

  She didn’t even look at the other two women, but they rose and left as if Sytoria had given them a direct command to do so.

  I pulled out the chair next to her and sat, and she crossed her lean legs in an almost luxurious movement.

  I didn’t bother introducing myself. She knew who I was, and I knew who she was, and she didn’t seem like the type of woman interested in warming up with small talk. That was just fine by me.

  “I want you to teach me to do . . . to do what you do with Lord Toric,” I said, more haltingly than I had intended. “With the whips and things in the cabinet.”

  She exhaled a soft little puff of air through her nose, a tiny laugh at my request. “Why in the name of the stars would I do that?”

  “Because . . . because I can offer you something in return.” I mentally kicked myself, realizing I should have asked Clarisse about Sytoria. I should have tried to learn something about the “queen of the harem” so I could make a specific offer that would entice her.

  “What can you offer?” she asked. Her lids lowered partway, but not before I saw a faint spark of interest in her eyes.

  “There must be something you want. Something you can’t get in the catalog.” I propped my elbows on the table and interlaced my fingers, peering at her over them. “I have connections with many powerful people on Calisto.”

  She snorted outright. “If you wield so much influence, how did you end up here?”

  I shrugged a shoulder, but my mind was spinning with the effort of coming up with a convincing response. “This is the safest place for me. Someone tried to kill me when I first arrived. And even though I’m known all across Calisto as a miracle, I have dangerous detractors.”

  She stared at me in silence, her round eyes boring into me in a way that made the back of my neck prickle with nervous sweat. It took all of my effort not to shift in my seat or look away.

  “You are very naïve, aren’t you?” She said it softly, almost to herself. “Not just naïve. Ignorant.”

  At that, I bristled, but tried to cover it with a compliment. “I’m not as experienced as you are. That’s why I’ve come to you.”

  She gave her head a slight, subtle shake. “I don’t just mean sexually.”

  My brows lowered in confusion that I made no attempt to mask. My heart thumped an uneasy rhythm. “What are you talking about?”

  “You should ask your friend Clarisse.” She rose in one fluid motion, her arms falling gracefully to her sides. The decadent, sensual smell of her perfume filled my nose. “She’s keeping much from you.”

  She turned away from me and set her chin, and just by that simple gesture I knew I’d been dismissed as surely as her to comrades had known by some silent signal earlier when I’d arrived.

  I fumbled to my feet as she walked away ahead of me, her steps quick but her hips still managing to sway enough to draw my eyes to her backside as she moved.

  “Wait,” I called, running a few steps after her. “Think about what I said, what I can do for you.”

  She didn’t turn.

  I slumped, deflated. “You must want something,” I muttered to myself. “Everyone wants something.”

  What if that something was to be with Lord Toric the way I wanted to be with him? That would present an enormous problem. But I suspected Sytoria’s something was not Lord Toric.

  A little icy point of apprehension pinged through me as I recalled what she’d said about Clarisse. It wasn’t news to me that Clarisse might be playing some sort of angle in being my friend. I’d always believed she had motives of her own. But hearing Sytoria all but confirm it was unnerving, and she’d seemed to imply something deeper, more dangerous than any of my assumptions about Clarisse.

  I looked around the nearly-empty room, chewing my lip and suddenly feeling very alone.

  Just as I was about to set off to look for Clarisse, someone blustered into the cafeteria, and I jumped at the sudden intrusion.

  Hera, her tablet tucked under her elbow, loomed toward me. “You’ve been summoned to the Temple.”

  My mouth dropped open, and I just looked up at her in confusion.

  She made a beckoning motion with one hand. “Your escort is waiting at the front doors. More importantly, the High Priestess is waiting for you in the Temple.” Her face stretched into what almost passed as a smile.

  “Why have I been summoned?” I truly wasn’t sure whether I should be worried, but the summons was unexpected enough that my insides twisted in nervous anticipation. The Temple had taken me in after I “survived” the sacrificial flame, and High Priestess Lunaria had always treated me well. I could only hope nothing bad awaited me.

  “I was not given those details.” Hera slid a glance down at me out of the corners of her eyes as we left the cafeteria side-by-side.

  I passed through both sets of doors, and I found six of Lord Toric’s elite guards awaiting me outside the harem quarters. I recognized all of them and gave Tullock a tiny smile.

  Another set of a dozen guards joined us just before we entered the public corridors of the palace. They surrounded me in a diamond formation, and the sound of so many boots on the floor seemed to rise above everything else.
With so many tall bodies grouped around me, I could hardly catch a glimpse of the reactions of passersby.

  By the time we reached the Temple, my heart pattered from keeping up with the guards’ quick pace and from my nerves. I’d half-hoped to find that Lord Toric would be there, but when I was shown into the office of the High Priestess, only she and another familiar Temple woman greeted me.

  “Maya Calderon, meet Novia,” the High Priestess said. It wasn’t the first time Novia and I had seen each other but before we hadn’t been introduced.

  Was it my imagination, or did the High Priestess’s face look unusually tense? I turned to Novia and dropped a quick curtsy, but the woman didn’t react. She only continued staring at me, unblinking, with calculating eyes. I straightened and fought the urge to twist my fingers together nervously.

  The Priestess remained standing, her arms at her sides and her hands hidden within the flowing sleeves of her opalescent robe. “Novia is the Temple’s top historian and scholar. You’ve been summoned to an interview with the miracle commission. You’ll remember, I’m sure, that the commission is investigating the extraordinary events surrounding your survival of the sacrificial flame.”

  “I’m to be interviewed immediately, Your Holiness?” My voice sounded too high and small.

  It was unsettling to be called so suddenly even though I doubted there was anything I could have done to prepare if I’d known in advance. Still, something about the chill in the room and the vague sense of friction between the Priestess and Novia put me even more on edge.

  The Priestess inclined her head in a nod that somehow seemed very grave. “The members of the commission have assembled.”

  I gave the Priestess a pointed look, silently imploring her to see that she and I needed a moment alone.

  But if the Priestess recognized my plea, she chose to ignore it. “Novia will take you to the commission now.”

  “Come with me.” Novia’s voice was unexpectedly smooth, almost sensuous, for someone with such hard eyes. She opened the office door and paused, waiting for me to go ahead of her.

  I gave the Priestess one last lingering stare, but her face remained impassive.

  I had no choice but to follow Novia.

  My mind whirled. Why hadn’t the Priestess met with me first, prepared me? We both knew what was at stake. It seemed terribly rash to send me into an inquisition this way. Something was wrong, I was sure of it. But clearly I was on my own.

  4

  Toric

  I STRODE TO the Temple at such a pace my guards nearly had to run to keep up. The entire way there my fists and jaw kept clenching convulsively, as if possessed by the desire to rip or gnash at something.

  It was not yet the time for my evening appointment with the High Priestess, but I wasn’t waiting. I wasn’t sending word of my visit, either. Just a few minutes before, one of my guards happened to mention escorting Maya to the Temple. The Priestess had not seen fit to keep me informed, so I saw no reason to give her any warning.

  Anger flashed through me, making my chest hot and my heart race. Why had the Priestess not told me Maya was being questioned by the miracle commission today?

  I stewed bitterly as I stomped through the corridors. I’d stupidly allowed myself to believe that the twice-daily meetings with the Priestess meant we were in close communication, that we weren’t keeping secrets from each other.

  When I burst into the waiting room of the office of the High Priestess, her assistant’s eyes popped wide as she scrambled to stand and curtsy.

  Her hands fluttered as if she couldn’t decide whether to reach for her tablet or go to the Priestess’s door. “My Lord, oh my. Please let me—ah, won’t you please sit while I—”

  “I need to see her immediately,” I cut in. I stood with my arms folded, my gaze bearing down on the flustered woman.

  I wouldn’t go so far as to barge into the Priestess’s office—as long as she opened the door within the next ten seconds.

  Her assistant had a finger to her earpiece, and she spoke rapidly in a low voice. She didn’t even get a chance to finish before the High Priestess appeared.

  I strode forward.

  As soon as the door clicked closed behind us, my hands flew in the air. “What is the meaning of this? Why was I not informed? Did you at least walk Maya through what she must say?” My voice boomed, filling the space, and the Priestess blinked several times.

  She held out a hand, palm down, as if encouraging me to lower my voice or perhaps lower myself to a chair. Maybe both. I remained on my feet.

  A new thought occurred to me, igniting my anger all over again. “If she’s being questioned right now, why aren’t you there?” I seethed. I felt my eyes going wild, my nostrils flaring.

  She swallowed before she began speaking. “I’m not allowed to be in attendance during the commission’s interviews, as I’m not a member of the committee.”

  “And the answers to my other questions?” I stared her down.

  “You weren’t informed because I was given no warning. And therefore I did not have the opportunity to prepare Maya.” She drew a long breath, quietly as if she didn’t mean for me to notice it, as she moved toward her chair and then sat.

  “That’s a grave miscalculation, don’t you think?” My voice was edged in ice as I looked down at her. “You’re in charge here. You could have found a way to put them off if you’d really wanted to.”

  I saw her eyes flash as her ire rose at my tone, but she reined it in. “I understand your alarm, but she’s a very smart young woman. She performed splendidly . . . before. I’m sure she’ll do just as well with the commission.”

  I almost would have believed her conviction, if not for the way she clenched her clasped hands together so tightly on her desk.

  “Please sit, Lord Toric, and we will talk.” She nodded at the chair to my right.

  I stood a moment longer but finally did as she asked. It would do no good to escalate my emotions—or hers—any further. Maya’s safety was at stake.

  I sat on the edge of the seat and leaned forward. “How long has Maya been with the miracle commission?”

  She glanced down at one of the tablets on her desk. “Nearly two hours. She’s allowed a break each hour.”

  I gave her a tilted, hard look. “Be honest with me, Your Holiness. Are you not concerned about this? After all, you and my brother orchestrated the so-called miracle. Now she’s in there facing a panel of priestesses alone, trying to legitimize your actions.”

  Her shoulders tensed and her eyes widened by the tiniest margin, and I wasn’t sure if the reaction indicated anger at my words or fear for the outcome of the investigation. She quickly composed herself, pulling her face into the impassive mask of serenity she was known for.

  “Do not forget, my Lord, that my career and most likely my life hang in the balance, too. Of course I’m concerned. But this is a part of the process, and we can’t avoid it. I have faith that she will do what’s necessary.” Her gaze intensified. “In spite of the orchestration as you call it, do you not believe that Maya Calderon is special? That she is the one the text hails as the harbinger of the Return?”

  I shifted in my seat. I had no doubt that there was something special—something miraculous—about Maya. I’d felt it the very first time I saw her, the moment she stepped foot on Calisto. From what I knew of the texts, it appeared that she was the harbinger of the Return. But unease stirred within me, not about Maya but in response to an almost imperceptible edge to the High Priestess’s manner. Something in her focus seemed to have shifted, and even though I couldn’t quite define it, I didn’t like it at all.

  “Yes, I believe,” I said quietly.

  “Good. We must follow the sacred texts at all costs, Lord Toric. Nothing in the history of our people has ever mattered so much as our actions now. Earthenfell is right there, nearly within our grasp.” Her eyes flashed wildly for the briefest of moments, and my first impulse was to draw back. But just as quickly her face was
serene once again.

  “While we wait for Maya, there is another matter I wish to bring up with you,” I said. “It’s the issue of my taking a Calistan wife. I will have to choose one of the women very soon, and the wedding will be forced upon me in a matter of weeks. But your investigators have determined that all of the remaining candidates have Pirro blood. I want to use that information to reject them and take Maya as my wife instead. I want your full support in this move.”

  Her lips parted as her astonished silence filled the room for a few breaths.

  “Lord Toric, this is not the time for such a break in tradition. The sacred texts—”

  I cut her off. “The sacred texts say I must take a Calistan wife by my twenty-eighth birthday. None of the candidates left are a hundred percent Calistan.”

  “Maya isn’t Calistan at all,” she shot back.

  “If we’re truly on the brink of the Return, it would be a show of my faith,” I argued. “Marrying an Earthen woman would be symbolic of my promise to lead the Return and to produce Calistan-Earthen children.”

  She was shaking her head. “You’re to produce offspring on Earthenfell with the entire harem, not just—”

  “Maya is a woman of the harem,” I cut her off again.

  The High Priestess stared at me, her eyes bright and her lips pursed into a point. Her outrage was obvious, but instead of filling me with doubt, it only strengthened my conviction.

  “You cannot do this.” She said the words slowly, in a hoarse whisper. She flattened her palms against the desk and half-rose. “You have no right to defy your destiny, your duty, as Lord. You will do as the sacred texts command. This is not just about your desires.”

  Just as she paused for a breath to fuel her growing tirade, her assistant’s voice emanated from a speaker. “Your Holiness, I’ve delivered the alert you requested. Please check your messages.”

  The Priestess looked down at the tablet nearest her left hand.

  “Is it Maya?” I leaned forward to try to get a view of the tablet.

  She darkened the screen before I could read what was on it. “Yes. The miracle commission is finished with her, and she’s being escorted back here.”