Page 99 of Boxed In

Luke answered the question. “Like—he’ll die if he leaves.”

“Why?”

“I should introduce myself,” the man said. “I am Father Delanos. And I am very old. Older than I look. Inside this building, time stands almost still, and I age very slowly.”

Olivia gasped as she took that in. Tipping her head to the side, she looked at the priest with new eyes.

“If someone else told me that, I’d think . . . .” Her voice trailed off. “But I believe you.”

Father Delanos acknowledged the words with a little smile.

Olivia cleared her throat. “Thank you for letting me in. Why did you change your mind?”

He smiled again. “Because you were fighting to save the life of Zabastian. And we couldn’t leave you outside to face the Poisoned Ones—or your police.”

“Thank you.”

“And thank you, as well. You are a very brave woman.”

“I didn’t feel brave. I felt scared.”

“Fear is often the spur to bravery,” Father Delanos said. He gestured to Olivia. “I want to welcome you properly. Come in.”

He led the two of them down a long hallway, and Luke saw Olivia still looking around as though she couldn’t believe the reality of the temple.

“This place is big,” she murmured. “But it takes up no space on the outside.”

“One of our little tricks,” the high priest said as he ushered them into a small sitting room.

It was furnished with low couches and rich Oriental rugs with moon and star designs woven into the pattern. A tray sat on a carved wooden table.

“Sit down and be comfortable.”

Luke pulled the briefcase off of his back and handed it to Father Delanos. “The box is in here.”

“Yes. Thank you. We will deal with it soon. Sit down,” he said again.

You’ve been struggling to get the box here, and he’s not acting like it’s important, Luke silently commented.

He will get to it in good time.

They sat, and Father Delanos poured a drink from a crystal bottle into a golden cup and handed it to Olivia. She sniffed the contents, then looked at the priest.

“I hope this isn’t like that box of chocolates in Narnia. Where Edwin ate one and it enslaved him to the White Witch.”

The priest laughed. “No. Of course not.”

Luke felt his stomach tighten. “It’s a potion that will lengthen your life,” he said.

Her eyes widened, and she looked at the priest again. “Why are you giving it to me?”

“As a reward,” Father Delanos said.

She eyed him—and eyed Luke. “But it was a punishment for Zabastian, wasn’t it?”

The priest nodded. “Rewards and punishments depend on the circumstances.”

She took a cautious sip, looking like she expected it to taste like medicine. “It’s good.”

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