Page 24 of Heir

Aiz considered Sister Noa’s words.Mother Div is with us.But she wasn’t, was she? Not anymore. Mother Div let Aiz fail. Did nothing as Tiral’s men beat and imprisoned her loyal clerics, those who shared her Sacred Tales.

If Aiz wanted to get the clerics out of here, she’d figure it out without divine aid.

They wound through long hallways lined with cells, dirty faces staring out at them, lit spectral blue by the lamps. The jailers stopped at a large, dark chamber, and the woman shoved Aiz, Noa, and Olnas inside. They’d left anything resembling sunlight long ago. Aiz could barely make out the cots and slop bucket in the corner.

The jailers disappeared with the rest of the clerics, and Aiz turned to Sister Olnas, who was pale and sweating.

“Her leg.” Sister Noa gestured for Aiz to take Olnas’s shoulder, and they helped her to a cot. “She needs to get off it.”

“I’m so sorry, Sister Noa,” Aiz said. “I didn’t know they would—I didn’t think—”

“It’s done, child,” Noa said. “Mother Div had trials too. She survived. So will we.” She tilted her head, a bright-eyed bird, even in such darkness.

“Tell me a dream, little love.”

Vengeance, Aiz thought.

“Getting you and all the other clerics out of here,” she said.

“May Mother Div make it so.” Noa’s eyes went over Aiz’s shoulder and widened. The girl turned, scouring the shadows near the other cot.

Shadows which, Aiz realized with horror, were moving.

“Sister Noa,” she said. “Get back.”

But Noa took a careful step toward the cot. “Come out, little ones,” she said. “We won’t hurt you.”

Three children emerged from the dark, emaciated and covered in dirt and filth. Aiz stared in disbelief.

“Why—why are there children here? What could they possibly have done—”

“We didn’t do anything,” one of them, a girl, said. She was small, a half foot shorter than Aiz, her head too big for her body. But her eyes were a keen blue and Aiz noticed that she pushed the two other children behind her protectively. “It was our parents who did wrong. They’re dead now.”

“How long have you been here?” Aiz asked.

“There’s scratches there.” The girl nodded to the wall behind Olnas’s cot. “I mark every day so we don’t forget. You better not hurt us.” She looked back at her two charges. “You might be bigger, but we bite.”

“We would never hurt you,” Sister Noa said. “I’m Sister Noa. That’s Aiz. That’s Sister Olnas. Will you tell me your names?”

“I’m Hani,” the girl said after a long, appraising pause. “This is Jak, and Finh.” Jak was smaller, but both boys had dark eyes and shorn red hair. Jak smiled shyly at Aiz, revealing a few missing teeth. Finh, Aiz noticed, had a significant limp.

“They’re brothers,” Hani said. “And I protect them.” She looked at Aiz challengingly. “You’re not a cleric.”

“No,” Sister Noa said. “But she tells beautiful stories. Better than me, even. Would you like to hear one?”

“Is it a scary story?” Finh asked. “I want a scary one.”

“You can’t have a scary one,” Hani said. “Jak’s too little.”

“I’m not!” Jak piped up. “I like scary ones too!”

“Maybe you shouldn’t tell a story.” Hani glanced nervously after the jailers. “Kithka leaves us be—she’s not so bad. But the other jailer, Gil—he’ll throw you in the Hollows if you cause too much trouble.” The girl shivered. “People aren’t right if they ever come back.”

“They won’t throw her in the Hollows for a little story,” Sister Noa said gently before turning to Aiz. “Tell them the First Sacred Tale. It was always your favorite.”

I can’t tell tales! I must get you out of here.

“Sister Noa”—Aiz dropped her voice—“you always said that to speak the Sacred Tales when one didn’t believe was sacrilege. I am too angry. At Tiral and the Triarchs and myself. At Mother Div, most especially.”

---