Page 38 of Of Blood & Stone

“Thank you, Your Grace,” she whispered.

He tilted his head, brows furrowed. “Now, why on earth are you asking about Aretta’s Willow? As you already know, it’s a legend.”

“Yes, well,” Syzlenya paused, the spit in her mouth thickening, “What if itwerereal? And if we were to find it, then perhaps we wouldn’t have to worry about people like my parents sabotaging other Kreenas or acolytes?—”

“There will be no other people like that,” he seethed, his yellow eyes flaring. “I’m making sure of it.”

Her breath faltered, muscles tense as his keen eyes softened along with his grip.

“If the tree was real, then it’s been dead for centuries, and as a leader, I can’t in good conscience put any of our efforts towards an empty promise.” His smile returned. “It isyouwho’s our hope, Sylzenya.Youare going to bring restoration to our people, and I needyouto believe in yourself. In three days I’ll have your cure ready, and I need you to be prepared to take up this mantle.”

Heat rushed into her face and limbs. He wasn’t listening to her like she’d hoped. Despite all his glorious words, a seed of doubt had settled within her heart.

Perhaps she wasn’t enough to save her people.

And if this was true, then they needed something more.

“I understand, Your Grace, and I don’t mean to shirk any of my duties. Once I’m cured, I’ll do as you say, but what if—” She took a steadying breath. “If it doesn’t work, or if my efforts are still not enough, then our people will need more. I’ve beenwanting to tell you, that after I failed the rite, I communed with the roots of the altar room, and when I did, I saw a vision of Aretta’s Willow?—”

“Enough.”

Everything stilled. The room hadn’t been moving, no water lapping in fountains, and yet, everything froze, Sylzenya’s heart as well. Even if she wanted to speak, she couldn’t find the words, the High One’s face causing her to gulp.

He leaned forward, his cold finger tilting her chin up.

“After all these years,” he whispered, “why are you choosing to doubt me now, Sylzenya?”

The emptiness in her chest grew, her desire to feel her goddess’ power in the soil boundless, and the need to feel the power opening her cut unbearable. She desired a pain she understood, notthis.

“I’d never doubt you,” she whispered, tears in her eyes.

His gaze narrowed, mouth thin as he tilted her chin up further.

She stopped breathing. “Your Grace?”

The High One sighed as he released her chin, standing to his full height and lacing his hands behind his back. “Your cure will be ready in three days, but I’m afraid you won’t be.”

Everything within her—her muscles, her lungs, her stomach—seized , as if he’d dealt a heavy blow to her gut.

“I understand why your faith has faltered, but I expected better than this.” He motioned towards the balcony doors. “Your people deserve better than this.”

Disbelief and fear warred with heated anger. She doused all of it, biting the inside of her cheek until it bled, forcing herself to meet her gaze with the High One’s.

“I’m sorry, Your Grace,” she said, her words metallic on her tongue.

He didn’t smile or offer recompense. Instead, he turned to Aretta’s statue and stared long and hard at the goddess.

“It’s my fault you’re not prepared.”

“Your Grace?—”

“If you’re to be the hope of our people, then you must prove to me you’re capable of handling such a task.” He turned to her, mouth thinned and eyes focused. “Until I’m certain of this, the cure will remain with me.”

It felt as if the floor had been ripped from under her feet. The emptiness in her chest widened, threatening to consume her.

“I promise I won’t talk about the tree anymore,” she begged, her fingers digging into her skin, “I promise I won’t doubt myself.”

The High One smiled sadly. “If you had said this to me earlier, I would’ve believed you. Thankfully, there’s still time to remedy this bout of uncertainty.” He trailed a finger along the marble statue. “Starting now, any task I give you, you must doexactlyas I instruct. If you’re successful in this, then I will give you the cure when it’s ready. But, if you don’t,” he chipped a piece of marble off the statue, “then we will start over.”

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