Page 45 of Of Blood & Stone

“What about the increased protection at the banquet tonight?” Sylzenya pushed, determined to make her friend remember, “Dynameis were assigned toprotectyou. That’s never been done before.”

Nyla smiled wide, patting her shoulder. “And thanks to your announcement, that won’t ever happen again. Now anyone who’s deranged enough to try and sabotage our kingdom knows they can’t succeed; our goddess will always find a way to protect us. Why are you doubting the High One like this?”

Her insides froze. There was that word again:Doubt.But she wasn’t doubting, never had, not about her goddess or the High One. And she didn’t plan on doing so now.

“I’m just confused,” Sylzenya replied, “You honestly don’t remember?”

She shrugged. “Sounds like a dull conversation anyways. All you need to worry about is this prince and letting the cure do its work.”

A loud knock sounded on the door.

“Sylzenya,” one of the priestesses announced, “it’s time.”

Taking a deep breath, she fastened her green cloak over her bloodied Kreena robe and slung the full burlap bag onto her shoulder.

“I’m kind of jealous,” Nyla said as they followed the priestess through the door and down the hallway, “I wish I could leave the temple and see how things are fairing.”

Sylzenya bit her tongue hard as she held back the anger swelling in her skin. It wasn’t right, this frustration, for she’d brought these circumstances upon herself. Perhaps the bright fire inside her chest wasn’t anger at all, but something darker—stickier—like a claw covered in orodyte serum, wrapping around her heart and puncturing her flesh

Not anger, not sadness, not uncertainty…

Shame.

Yes, that was it. She could feel the resonance sting along her bones as she repeated the word over and over, her sandaled feet rhythmically slapping on the marble stone.

For the first time in Sylzenya’s life, she felt shame.

Silence swelled in the sanctuary, thin and stretched, as if one wrong step would shatter every stained-glass window.

Forcing her chin up and shoulders back, she approached the High One, ignoring how everything between them felt bent out of shape. It was like a willow burdened with too much weight, its roots tearing from the ground as it tipped. Her parents’ betrayal was enough; she couldn’t bear the idea of losing the High One as well.

His yellow eyes sharpened on hers. She held her breath, a cool rush of relief flowing through her muscles as he extended his hand. No words needed to be exchanged as she carefully accepted the gesture. His gaze softened, and her shoulders relaxed.

“Sylzenya, you understand this isn’t what I want for you, correct?” the High One asked as he took her other hand in his.

Clenching her jaw, she held back tears and nodded. “Of course, Your Grace.”

Cold fingers pressed into her palms. “I’m doing this because you’re to bring salvation to our people, and such a task comes with a heavy burden. There’s no room for doubt.”

Sylzenya held her head high, forcing herself to remain steady despite her knees threatening to wobble.

“I understand, Your Grace.”

Tightening his grip, he whispered, “Your parents were jealous of your destiny, jealous that our goddess and our people needed you more than you needed them. Don’t let their envious act deter you from your path.”

Was that why they’d done it? Out of jealousy?

“I won’t,” Sylzenya replied, nostrils flaring, “I promise.”

He smiled. “Good. Once you’ve spent these next three days sharing this same message with our people while keeping an eye on the prince, I will give you the cure. Your powerwillbe restored, as well as my trust in you.”

The pain from her back ached at his words, the deep desire to feel the earth sing through her fingertips and into her veins causing tears to blind her vision.

“Thank you,” she whispered.

The High One nodded, staring at her hands. “You’re our only hope, Sylzenya. Not just for our kingdom, but for me.”

He turned his gaze back to her, a deep emotion sitting in his eyes. Her spine shivered as he carefully dug a hand in one ofhis robe’s pockets, revealing a long golden chain. Connecting the chain was a piece of orodyte—symmetrical, clear in its make, and glinting off of the torchlight.

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