Page 41 of Of Blood & Stone

“Elnok,” he said above the noise, “Is everything alright?”

“She created over half of the willows in this garden, a true testament to her strength and power. Everyone, please join me as we raise our glasses with Sylzenya Phatris!”

More cheers.

Elnok forced himself to stand upright, ignoring the pain and distant memories burning into his back.

The woman stepped forward. While the leader’s robes covered him in one swoop of fabric, hers seemed to be made of one thin strip, wrapping around her body in intricate designs, pockets of lightly tanned skin exposed at her hips, shoulders, and chest. A rather attractive piece to wear, and Elnok couldn’t help himself as he stared at her curves, letting her beauty distract him from the pain searing his body.

She carried herself with the grace of a ruler, long ash-colored hair floating behind her in the soft breeze.

A Kreena, the High One had said.

One of the women Kharis had warned him about, the ones who lived in the temple since they were young; women saturated in piety, trusting their High One above all else. But by the way the High One stood next to this woman, she must be something more. A wife, perhaps, or a concubine? Kharis hadn’t spoken of the High One having either, but he supposed it didn’t affect their goal.

Either way, he needed to steer clear of this woman.

“Welcome, people of Estea,” she said, her voice carrying across the clearing and into the gardens, “Two days ago, more acolytes took up the title of Kreena—women who have pledged their lives to see our kingdom prosper during the continent-wide famine. A day worth celebrating!”

Everyone in the crowd clapped.

The woman smiled. “And yet, I know many of you heard of the terrible event which also took place during the rite.”

She paused, a falter in her smile. Faint enough for most to dismiss it as a natural break, but Elnok saw something else in her features. His painful memories faded as his curiosity piqued.

A building tension hung in the air, so thick Elnok might’ve thought everyone had forgotten how to breathe.

She smiled wider—an overcorrection—a common fault for novice thieves, and a habit Elnok tirelessly trained out of his crew. This woman would make a terrible gambler, and an even worse thief.

“My own flesh and blood betrayed me. Betrayed our entire kingdom.” She continued, lowering her glass to the banister, “However, in their attempt to strip me of my connection to Aretta, our goddess blessed me with something greater.” She stared towards the sky. “Hope.”

The crowd cheered.

Elnok scoffed.

Bullshit.

“Our goddess has blessed the High One with a cure to orodyte serum, and I’m already nearing full strength.”

Cheers erupted in the clearing. People clanked their goblets together, drinking laboriously, dancing and jumping at her words.

“It is good to rejoice!” she yelled over the cacophony, “For where people sought to destroy our kingdom, Aretta protected us yet again. Now please, enjoy the food and wine the High One and the Kreenas have so graciously provided us this evening. Let it be a sign that the famine will never touch Estea: Not now, not ever. Praise be to Aretta!”

The crowd erupted into chants. Elnok grabbed a nearby tree trunk to keep himself steady as people shoved and yelled, wine spilling from their goblets and onto the soil, their clothes, and their mouths. Memories returned, threatening to drown him as he followed Kharis through the clearing towards the temple.

“We’ll request a meeting with the High One immediately,” Kharis yelled over the crowd, “Then we can leave this place and go to the main village.”

Elnok couldn’t manage a response, squaring his shoulders against the crowd of drunks instead. He shoved as many of them away as he could, their twisted smiles shaped so much like Tosh’s during those nights in the dungeons. He could feel the scars on his back burning hotter with each step.

Someone was looking at him. He could feel it. He turned his gaze skyward.

Hands clenched on the banister’s balcony, the woman in intricate white robes leaned forward, her eyes steadied on him. Estea’s leader towered behind her, his hands gripping her shoulders as he whispered into her ear. The woman’s eyes widened. Before Elnok could make sense of it, someone elbowed him in the ribs, knocking the air out of his lungs. Coughing, he bent over.

When Elnok looked up again, they were gone.

“We’re almost there,” Kharis said as he grabbed Elnok’s arm.

Drooping branches scraped his face as they rushed forward, the mass of people thinning as they emerged on the other side of the trees. A woman in a long gold robe stood in front of the temple’s large detailed doors, two guards on either side.

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