Page 132 of Of Blood & Stone

“The altar room,” Sylzenya whispered.

“Yes,” Aretta replied, “but this is the altar room two centuries ago.”

A woman with black hair and dark brown skin stumbled into the room, her eyes wild as she kneeled to the floor, grasping onto one of the roots with both hands, her body erupting with magic. Yellow light circled her, cutting into her back. Gritting her teeth, she spoke words Sylzenya couldn’t understand.

“‘Seek Aretta’s Willow. Find the compass hidden within a willow, and you will save your people.’ This is what I had one of my birds tell this woman in a vision two centuries ago, the only information I’m able to communicate thanks to my brother’s enchantment. She was a gifted Kreena. Enough power to seek me out, and yet not enough to stand out to Distrathrus. She was the perfect candidate to find my tree and destroy my brother, or so I thought.”

The vision shifted, the woman using her power as she walked from willow to willow in an alcove in the temple.

“What’s the meaning of this?” a familiar voice echoed along the sandstone walls.

The woman turned to find the High One at the end of the hall, fingers laced behind his back. His yellow gaze was bright, as if it were piercing through a shadow. Sylzenya could feel his cold hands on her shoulders, his voice whispering to her.

You’re mine. You’re mine. You’re mi?—

Elnok’s hand gripped hers, bringing her back.

“You’re alright,” he whispered.

Quickly, she released his hand. “I know.”

He sighed, thankfully not reaching for her again. She placed her focus back on her goddess and the vision, stepping closer to Kharis.

“Your Grace,” the woman in the vision said, bowing deeply, “Some of the acolytes were observing the willows and I was checking to make sure none of them were damaged.”

Distrathrus raised a brow. “Were they?”

“Not that I can tell.”

He breathed in deep, his yellow eyes sharp. It sent a chill up Sylzenya’s spine.

Distrathrus said, “You already know we have priestesses for such purposes. So, tell me again, what is it you’re doing?”

The woman gulped, sweat shining on her brow.

“I’ve noticed you haven’t partaken in the wine ceremonies this past week. Is it not to your liking?”

The woman backed up a step. “I’ve been taking a little break.”

He smiled, revealing a glass of wine in his hand. “Let’s be done with that little break then, hm?”

“I’d rather not, Your Grace, if that’s alright.”

“It’s, in fact, not alright, my dear. So please, have a drink and we’ll forget this ever happened. Unless you find something wrong with my wine?”

The woman looked at the wine, then at Distrathrus.

She broke into a run.

He caught her robe with his long, thin fingers, slamming her into the wall. She yelped. Gripping her jaw, he forced the glass to her lips and spilled the wine into her mouth. She screamed, attempting to spit it out. She kicked, but he dodged every attempt. Sylzenya’s heart raced as the woman finally slammed the wine glass away from her mouth, the glass shattering to the floor.

Yellow eyes flaring, the High One spun her around, kicking the back of her knees with such blunt force she screamed and crumpled to the ground. Quickly, he pulled out a dagger and sliced open her Kreena cut. Sylzenya gagged; Elnok gripped her shoulder. Distrathrus uncorked a vial full of black liquid and poured it into the woman’s open wound.

Sylzenya remembered what it’d felt like, Distrathrus’ blood spilling straight into her cut when he’d trapped her and Elnok in the Willow Grove. Torturous black flames consuming her bones, her muscles, every living thing inside of her until she was sure she’d been turned into ash.

The woman’s scream drowned out as the vision dissolved.

They were back in the temple’s altar room, the same woman standing before the great willow tree, her eyes clouded. Distrathrus stood behind her with a wide smile.

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