Total pages in book: 146
Estimated words: 137226 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 686(@200wpm)___ 549(@250wpm)___ 457(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 137226 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 686(@200wpm)___ 549(@250wpm)___ 457(@300wpm)
But part of me wonders how pure this cult really is and how much is for show. It may be against the law to ingest suen in Esland, but that doesn’t mean the government isn’t doing it behind closed doors. It doesn’t mean that the Sister in charge, hasn’t ingested it. And it certainly doesn’t mean the Black Guard isn’t under the influence.
Fuck. I hope to the goddesses that Vidar hasn’t discounted that.
“I don’t think this lady is ever going to wake up,” Kirney says wearily.
I glance at her body. She’s very dead. If this woman had ingested suen, it certainly didn’t help her fight back, or give her immortality.
“You did what you had to do,” I tell him. “You didn’t kill her. Brynla did.”
“I helped.”
I sigh. “Atonement is for another day. Today is about getting out of here alive.”
“With the egg.”
“With the egg,” I repeat. But the truth is, I don’t give a flying fuck about the egg right now. As much as the idea of immortality excites me, as much as we need the egg, Brynla is the only thing that matters.
And I’m the one who involved her in this. She might lose her life before the rest of us.
Before I even had the courage to tell her that I love her.
“Look,” Kirney whispers, nudging me.
The doors to the chapel open and the Sisters file out in a line, like a row of giant black ants, two by two. They are chattering among themselves and I can only hear snippets of their conversation as they pass us unseen.
But near the back of the line, I hear something as clear as day.
One Sister says to the other, “I can’t go with you, I have to go feed the dragon now.”
I exchange a wide-eyed glance with Kirney.
“Ugly business,” the other one says. “Perhaps we can meet later.”
We poke our heads out from the shadows and watch as they disappear around the corner, but the one who just said she was going to feed the dragon goes to the servants’ staircase we had previously come out of.
“You stay here and wait for Brynla,” I tell Kirney. “I’m going to go check this out. I’ll wait for you in the cistern.”
Before Kirney can protest, I step out of the shadows and start running after the woman, managing to get back into the stairwell without anyone seeing me.
The bodies of the women that Kirney disarmed are now gone and I know we don’t have a lot of time before the alarm is sounded. They might not be able to speak, but they can sure as fuck write.
I quietly hurry down the stairs after the woman, her footsteps going down, down, down until she goes into the cellar. I follow her, watching as she crosses the cold-storage room and then goes to a small wooden door on the opposite side of the room. She grabs a torch off the wall, then takes out a set of jangling keys from her robe and unlocks it and then steps inside.
I’m across the room in a flash, getting to the door just before I’m shut out, taking my glowfern cube out of my pocket, the light already burned out, and I use it to prop open the door an inch, just in case.
Then I hurry down the stairs, following the flame, though my eyes are already adjusted to the dark. Down and down we go, the air growing colder, smelling damp and metallic, like mildew and blood. It must be at least a hundred steps until I watch as she steps off the last stair and heads down a narrow, rock-lined passage. I follow along, the floor made of hard-packed dirt, keeping my distance and hugging the shadows. Even if she turns around with her torch, I don’t think she’ll see me.
As she walks along, though, her pace slows. Like she’s reluctant.
And the corridor starts to fill with sound.
A shrill sound. Muffled crying. Pure fear vibrates around me, making my scalp prickle.
Is this the dungeon that Brynla was talking about? Could the convent be keeping an actual dragon on the premises, tended to by the Sisters of the Highest Order? Is this dragon worshipped like a god?
The corridor opens up and all at once my questions are answered.
We’re in a massive underground keep, with stone buttresses that rise fifty feet in the air. Nearest to us are three cages.
There are people in the cages. Some dead, some alive, some women, some men, some robed like the Daughters of Silence, all blindfolded and gagged.
The veiled woman stands in the middle of the room, facing the dark shadows at the back, holding up her torch, which trembles slightly in her hand.
“Magni,” she calls into the darkness. “For your wisdom and grace we give you your gift. May it sustain you, may it sustain us.”