Offerings of food had been laid on the steps leading up to the dais. At the bottom of the stairs, an elderly woman dressed in a linen robe sat atop a pile of silk and velvet cushions. Men, women, and children who numbered around twenty occupied the benches or milled about the space. A few of the young women wore linen robes like that of their elder. One of these women broke from the group and came to meet them. She had dark skin, raven-black hair, and eyes that were a guileless deep, liquid brown.
“I am Mura, acolyte of Nava,” the young woman said. “The holy priestess welcomes you and bids you join her.”
As she led them into the room, Ara leaned over to Teth. “Did you send word we were coming?”
“I did not,” he replied, giving her a look that was caught between alarm and bemusement. His eyes flicked over the room, searching for signs of danger.
Mura led them to stand before the holy priestess and then went to the elderly woman’s side to help her rise. She had dark skin and eyes framed by a thick halo of tight white curls.
The holy priestess thanked Mura then lifted her hands in the manner of Nava’s statue.
“Blessings of Nava, goddess of the harvest, of the fruit of the earth and the womb, be upon you. I am Bothia, holy priestess in this temple, and I bid you welcome.”
Ara had never been in the presence of a holy person, and Bothia radiated a sense of light and peace. Not knowing the appropriate response, Ara bowed, and was glad when Mura nodded her approval.
Nimhea started to bow, but Bothia grasped her hand.
“No, Your Majesty,” the priestess said firmly. “It is I who should bow to you.”
And she did.
Nimhea drew a quick, surprised breath, and her eyes widened.
“I knew you would come.” The old woman straightened, looking at each of them in turn. Her papery skin crinkled into a thousand folds when she smiled. “I told Nava I’m ready to rest, but she bade me wait for you, Loresmith, and you, my queen, and now you are here.”
Her gaze moved to Teth. “You are a surprise, but I sense you are a friend.”
“Holy priestess.” Teth bowed.
Bothia peered at him more closely. “Ah, I see it now. Not only a friend, but a Loreknight. Our temple is honored by your presence.”
Teth rubbed the back of his neck self-consciously. “I’m not that hon . . . um . . . thank you.”
“Nava loves her sibling Eni, because they bring her laughter and mischief.” Bothia regarded Teth with twinkling eyes. “You bring these gifts to your companions.”
“I suppose that much is true,” Teth replied, unable to suppress a grin.
Bothia gestured to the floor, and Ara noticed that additional cushions had been provided while they conversed.
“We praise Nava by sharing in her gifts,” Bothia told them. “Please join me.”
Mura helped Bothia recline in the cushions once more while Ara, Nimhea, and Teth took seats in a semicircle opposite the priestess.
Another robed woman appeared, bearing a platter of cheeses and early summer fruits.
After taking a handful of ripe berries and a slice of cheese, Ara said, “You expected us. Does that mean you know why we sought you out?”
Bothia nodded. “You search for the hidden place. The site of Nava’s pain and suffering.”
Ara had been enjoying the sweetness of the berries contrasted with the tang of cheese, but now her throat tightened. The memory of Ofrit, disheveled and frantic, in the Tangle haunted her. Her gaze moved to the statue of Nava that towered over them. How would the goddess’s dark side manifest?
“The place is called Nava’s Ire,” Bothia continued. “You will find it amid the ice fens in northwest Kelden. It is a place rife with danger, and I bid you enter it with great caution.”
Turning to Nimhea, the priestess said, “This task belongs to two of you. The Loresmith alone cannot ease Nava’s pain. One of Nava’s own children must offer her goddess succor.”
Bothia winced as if with her own pain. “There are so few of us here, who dare to maintain our communion with Nava. The goddess of the hearth, of family, feels the absence of her people more keenly than Saetlund’s other gods. Her grief is vast.”
“How can we help her?” Nimhea asked. Her expression spoke to her disbelief that a mere mortal could aid a deity.
Ara already knew what Bothia’s reply would be.
“You must discover that answer yourself as you face the perils of Nava’s Ire,” the priestess told Nimhea.
Teth cleared his throat, and they all looked at him. He glanced at Nava’s statue hopefully. “So, this one time we were far away from where we needed to be, and Eni, or possibly Ofrit, just sent us there.”
He gave the statue another meaningful look. “Is there any chance?”
Nimhea and Ara looked from Teth to the priestess, expecting Bothia to be at best aghast at this suggestion, at worst furious enough to throw them out of the temple and face Nava’s wrath well before they reached her Ire.
But Bothia slapped her hands on her thighs and let out a belly-deep laugh. “A question worthy of Eni’s Loreknight indeed!”
Teth smiled sheepishly.
The priestess swiped tears of mirth from her eyes. “Would I could grant your wish, friend, but alas part of this task is discovering Nava’s hidden place. I have directed you as much as I am permitted.”
“It was worth asking.” Teth shrugged.
His impish smile suddenly vanished, and his head swiveled to the tunnels from which they’d come.
“What’s wrong?” Ara asked, the hairs on the back of her neck standing at attention.
Teth’s brows drew together. “I heard —”
A robed girl burst out of the tunnels, running toward them.
“Priestess—” Whatever else the girl had to say died as an arrow struck the back of her neck, ripping through her throat.
Ara, Nimhea, and Teth were on their feet. Mura moved to shield Bothia. Nimhea’s sword slid from its scabbard and Teth nocked an arrow, raising Tears of the Traitor. Ironbranch felt reassuring in Ara’s hands.
More arrows flew from the dark corridor, felling men, women, the old, and the young indiscriminately. The archers were hidden by shadow, but the sheer number of arrows suggested a major assault had been launched on the shrine. As the truth of it hit her, Ara’s heart shattered.
This can’t be happening.
Vokkan soldiers poured like ants from the corridor that led to the tunnels.
“You are under arrest for conspiracy and crimes against the empire!” one of them shouted.
They offered no quarter, cutting down anyone in their path, though few offered resistance. Blood ran down the stairs to pool in the sunken floor. The acolytes came together, forming a semicircle to block the holy priestess from the soldiers’ onslaught.
Bothia grasped one of Ara’s and one of Nimhea’s arms. “You must leave. Now!”
“We can fight,” Nimhea said through gritted teeth. “We’ll hold them off until you can get to safety.”
Teth nodded his agreement. His arrows were already flying, knocking down soldier after soldier, but they continued to stream out of the tunnels.
The priestess shook her head. “The time for fighting will come, but not tonight. You must flee. Nava wills it.”
“But you—” Ara pleaded. It was obvious the soldiers had no interest in arresting anyone other than their targets; everyone else would be slaughtered.
Bothia cut her off. “Nava wills it.”
Ara knew she couldn’t argue, but tears stung her eyes as she looked into the old woman’s serene face.
“Please forgive me.” Ara’s words came out with a sob. “I brought death to you, to everyone here.”
Bothia reached out to touch Ara’s cheek. “There is nothing to forgive.”
Glancing
at Nimhea, Ara saw the princess’s cheeks were also wet with tears.
“Do not delay,” Bothia told them firmly.
“Is there another way out, priestess?” Teth asked, his eyes darting around the room, hunting for a means of escape.
“There is an entrance to ruined tunnels behind the statue,” the crone said, turning to point a bony finger at a fissure in the wall. “Many have collapsed, or lead nowhere. You will need light; take torches from the wall sconces. And you will need a guide—Mura will show you the way.”
Mura burst into tears. “No, holy priestess, I will not leave you.”
“You will do as I say.”
Still weeping, Mura staggered away.
Ara reached for Bothia’s hand. “Come with us.”
She shook her head. “No more hiding for me. I have done what my goddess asked of me, and now I will rest. Go now and do what the gods demand. Fulfill your destiny.”
Teth swore, loosing another arrow. “Go after Mura. I’ll cover our escape.”
Taking one of Bothia’s hands, Nimhea bent to kiss it. “Nava watch over you.”
“And you.” Bothia laid her other hand on the crown of Nimhea’s head.
Nimhea went after Mura.
“Ara, go!” Teth snapped. “There are too many of them for me to hold off.”
Torn, Ara looked at Bothia, who simply nodded.
“Thank you, holy priestess,” Ara murmured, and ran to catch Nimhea.
She could hear the twang of Teth’s bowstring following close behind her.
Mura was at the fissure. She reached for a torch then suddenly cried out, back arching before she fell, revealing the arrow buried between her shoulder blades.
Ara came to Nimhea’s side.
“We have no guide,” Nimhea said bleakly.
“We have no choice,” Ara answered. She grabbed the torch Mura had been reaching for and thrust it into Nimhea’s hands before pushing the princess into the fissure.
Ara found another torch and plunged after Nimhea, calling to Teth over her shoulder as she did so, only to discover he was on her heels.
The tunnel differed significantly from the passages through which they’d entered the temple. It had been constructed of stone blocks that rose to meet in an arched ceiling. Some blocks had fallen, leaving gaps in the walls and ceiling. Ara eyed the tunnel warily, knowing this type of build relied on constant pressure from the stones upon one another to maintain its integrity. If too many stones fell, the entire passage was in danger of collapsing. Not to mention any single block that fell could injure or kill anyone unlucky enough to pass beneath it at the wrong time.
Rectangular alcoves featured in the walls on both sides of the passage, stacked three high, each space home to a stone sarcophagus. The tunnels were catacombs. Home only to the dead.
Ara shoved away the icy fingers of dread that settled on her shoulders.
A shallow line of water trickled along the floor. Debris cluttered the ground, broken stones, roots that had shoved their way through cracks in the floors, and bones. So many bones. Too many ways to snag a foot or turn an ankle; even so, they couldn’t proceed at a cautious pace.
“Run!” Ara called to Nimhea.
The princess raced up the tunnel with Ara and Teth right behind her, water splashing as they ran. In a few minutes, her shoes were soaked. The shouts of pursuing soldiers came from behind them all too soon.
They hadn’t run very far when the catacombs branched off in three directions. Each path looked the same.
“Which way?” Nimhea halted, breathing hard.
Ara shook her head, trying to catch her breath.
Teth pointed to their right. “That direction, if it continues straight, leads away from the pavilion. I think it’s the best choice. You and Nimhea should go that way.”
Hoping she’d misheard him, Ara didn’t reply, but gave Teth a hard look.
“Where are you going?” Nimhea asked sharply.
“I’m going this way.” He pointed his torch at the tunnel directly in front of them.
“Why?” Ara snapped, furious that he’d even suggest splitting up. “We stay together.”
“If any of these paths is a dead end we’ll be cornered,” Teth replied in a measured tone. “It’s better if I go a different way and make sure they follow me. That will give you the chance to find another path if the one you’re taking doesn’t lead to an escape.”
“I don’t like it,” Nimhea said, frowning.
“I hate it,” Ara snarled.
With a bland smile, Teth said, “I don’t care.”
Ara could hear the soldiers drawing closer.
“Go,” Teth told them, then leveled his gaze at Ara. He lifted his hand to touch Eni’s pendant where it hung at his chest. “In Eni’s name I will not change my mind.”
“Don’t do this.” Ara’s voice cracked.
Teth leaned forward to lay a kiss on her temple. “It’s done.”
Feeling a tug on her arm, Ara turned to Nimhea. “We have to go.”
Before Ara could object again, Teth had run into the tunnel ahead. He began to shout, feigning fear and confusion.
Ara bit back a curse and followed Nimhea into the tunnel to their right. Every instinct screamed at her to run back to him. She belonged with him. But the rational part of her mind knew Teth was right. His plan offered their best chance of escape.
Nimhea and Ara ran, jumping over fallen rocks and ducking under crumbling supports. They ran until Ara’s lungs burned. All the while, the tunnels spoke to them in unsettling groans and creaks, a reminder that this was a place of ruin and decay. That there was no guarantee the ceiling above them and the walls around them would hold.
Nava guide our steps.
The soldiers’ shouts had returned. Either they had given up searching for Teth—Ara refused to consider the possibility that he’d been captured, injured, or worse—or they’d split up and sent men in all three directions. Their voices were a good way behind, but not far enough to set Ara at ease.
“I can see light ahead!” Nimhea pointed.
In the distance, Ara could indeed make out filmy daylight, and her heart surged with relief. They’d found a way out. With any luck, Teth would evade the soldiers and find a way back to them. She only wished there were a way to tell him his instincts about the direction they should take had been correct.
I’ll tell him soon, Ara reassured herself. We’ll be together again, and I’ll tell him he was right.
There was a sudden sharp crack followed by a rumbling then a roar. The ceiling crashed down in a storm of stones and choking dust, snuffing out the dim light that had sparked hope in Ara’s chest. Sharp slivers of rock cut her arms, and she jumped back to avoid a slab of masonry that would have crushed her skull and fell hard onto her back. Nimhea cried out and disappeared. The princess and the promise of escape gone in the space of a heartbeat.
At first Ara couldn’t breathe. Panic seized her, but she wrestled it down as she grasped that the fall had knocked the air out of her lungs. She wheezed and coughed, lungs burning from the dirtied air. Her eyes stung and watered, and she blinked until her vision cleared. Ara made herself stand, feeling twinges of pain, but nothing alarming. Streaks of blood covered her arms and hands where scrapes and abrasions were clustered, but none of the cuts were deep.
When the dust finally settled, there was a new wall of debris with no gaps to be seen. Signs of daylight had vanished, the hope of escape snatched away.
“Nimhea!” Ara’s pulse pounded. She risked being heard by pursuers, but had to know if the princess was injured or worse.
No answer.
Nava, please, spare Saetlund’s queen. We can’t lose her. Please, merciful mother.
“Nimhea! Are you there?” Ara’s voice broke, and she choked back a sob.
Not Nimh
ea.
Pressing close to the barrier, Ara called in a softer tone, hoping Nimhea would still be able to hear her. She couldn’t risk yelling anymore. The soldiers were already closing in on her.
“Nimhea, please answer me.” Salt from her tears stung the scratches on her cheeks as her fingers clawed uselessly at the pile of stones.
The princess’s voice didn’t come, only the scratching and cracking of shifting debris.
She can’t be gone. Gods, no.
Ara forced herself to step back and examine the fall. The heap of earth and stone was packed so tightly she doubted she would be able to dig through it. It might be possible if she used Ironbranch to help, but she suspected any disturbance of the blockage would only cause another collapse.
There was no way through.
No Teth. No Nimhea.
Despair clawed at her.
No. No. No.
Shouts came from the tunnel at Ara’s back. The soldiers would find her in a matter of minutes. They were too close for her to attempt going back to search for another branch of the tunnels. All she could do was hide. After a quick glance at her surroundings, it was obvious there was only one place to tuck herself away.
Ara snuffed her torch out in the dirt then shoved it as far into the pile of debris as she could, hoping it would appear to be just another piece of the collapsed tunnel. Turning to the nearest sarcophagus, she hauled herself onto the ledge of the alcove that held it. She crawled over the coffin and wedged herself into the crevice behind it. For the first time in her life, she thanked the gods she was small. Not only was the sarcophagus much longer than her body, but had she been any larger she couldn’t have fit into the space between the coffin and the alcove wall.
The soldiers’ voices were very close now. The light of their torches reached into the alcove, and Ara willed herself to be as immovable at the sarcophagus hiding her. She heard them talk as they examined the collapsed tunnel, and she sent up a plea to Eni that none of them would have the skill to judge how recent it had been.
Cast in Secrets and Shadow Page 28
