“It took control of the recruit’s mind, manipulating him against us,” Marlo added, “even used his orodyte to access Aretta’s power through him. I didn’t know they could do that.”
“And you didn’t end up killing him?” Nyla questioned.
“Didn’t have to. The ichthys loses its invisible quality when it possesses another, and so I was able to find it in its watering hole and spear it through the gills with my sword.” Marlo raised his longsword, stained in black blood. “Once the ichthys is dead, its control over its subject is broken. It was a nasty battle, though. Those monsters are slippery things, and it took me a while to find its gills. I had to use power from both of my orodytes to finally kill it.”
“And where were you in all of this, Westley?” Sylzenya asked.
His earlier intrigue in her had clearly depleted as he replied, “Keeping the recruit fromkillingeveryone.”
“And you only saw it because of the water changing color?” Nyla asked.
“Like I said, we were lucky,” Marlo replied, “I’d only heard rumors of its true appearance, but they barely did it justice. It looked like a large fish without fins, and had sharper teeth than a serpentum’s fang.”
Westley added, “Distrathrus’ creatures are far more than just armored skin and hulking strength.”
The grove fell silent at the mention of the god’s name. So rarely did anyone utter it. The name was like a distant curse, one that had almost taken Estea in its monstrous claws centuries ago.
“Praise Aretta for ending him when she did,” Sylzenya replied, “Who knows what other monstrosities he would’ve created in that forest.”
All of them echoed the prayer.
“Well, Nyla and Sylzenya, we’re grateful for the orodyte. I’m sure we’ll be able to utilize its impurities to slay a serpentum or arachni on our next mission. Maybe even an ichthys,” Marlo said, a broad smile on his face, “Perhaps we’ll see you later tonight at the banquet?”
His eyes shimmered as he locked his gaze with Nyla’s. Sylzenya didn’t miss the rush of red blooming on her friend’s face.
“I’m certain we will,” Nyla replied, looping her arm through hers.
The men bowed again, Marlo staring at Nyla, Westley’s eyes trained on Sylzenya. Without another word, Sylzenya turned and led Nyla towards the temple, leaving the other Dynameis and Kreenas to exchange orodytes, stories of Lhaal Forest and, perhaps, fleeting glances with unspoken promises.
“I swear on Aretta’s blood, if you fall for that little act of his, I’ll have to lock you in the temple until your mind is washed clean,” Sylzenya whispered as they left the grove.
Nyla laughed. “A little playful talk and suddenly you assume I’m swayed into his affections?”
“You know why he was talking to you like that, don’t you?”
“He’s a man with a sword. His reasons are obvious enough.”
They approached the temple, its sandstone walls reaching to the sky, curving into a dome made of stained-glass. The guards opened the doors, the crisp scent of rosewater fresh and light as their bare feet slapped against the marble floor.
“Just have some fun tonight, Syl. You deserve it after everything that’s happened.”
Sylzenya shook her head. “I wouldn’t say time spent with Westley isfun.”
“Then find someone else. You’re the mostpowerfulKreena in all of Est?—”
“Was,” she corrected.
“Are going to beagain,” Nyla said, “All I’m saying is that you could choose any Dynami, and they’d be more than happy to… swap orodyte.”
They stopped at a wall made of dark ivy, pulling aside the vines to reveal a dark, damp room with a single torch.
Sylzenya’s brows rose to her hairline. “You think other Dynameis want my orodyte?”
“Oh, Iknowthey want your orodyte.”
Furrowing her brows, Sylzenya stared at her friend. Nyla opened the gold door to the sanctuary of Aretta’s healing waters. Steam assaulted them, filling her lungs as the warm layer of water met her cold feet.
“My orodyte isn’t any different from yours, let alone other Kreenas’,” Sylzenya argued as she stripped, the back of her white robe damp with blood. She hung the cloth on a thorned vine draping the wall.