Page 91 of Of Blood & Stone

Her heart stuttered.

The compass.

He wouldn’t put it anywhere he wouldn’t deem safe; he wouldn’t trust anyone else to hold it, of this Sylzenya knew with certainty. He had only ever trusted her with such tasks.

The High One looked past her and flicked his head. “Restrain her and retrieve him.”

Before she could react, the glowing chest plates of two Dynameis appeared out of the grove’s shadows. With a flash of power, they quickly pinned her arms to her side. She cursed, not having checked her surroundings well enough to see the hidden warriors.

Her stomach dropped at the familiar red hair and freckled face, and the familiar golden skin and black hair.

Westley and Marlo.

The Dynameis who’d approached her and Nyla for orodytes the other day. Westley… the only other man she’d ever been intimate with.

“Westley, please let me go,” Sylzenya whispered, “Please.”

But he said nothing, his grip tightening with each passing moment, his eyes distant. Nyla kneeled to the ground, burying a piece of orodyte. Their goddess’ golden light erupted from the earth, encircling her body while thick vines birthed from the ground and twisted around Sylzenya’s legs and arms.

“What are you doing?” Sylzenya questioned, her voice shaking.

Her friend looked up, but her amber eyes didn’t glisten like usual, her mouth was thin, facial expression bored. Nyla didn’t answer as the vines wrapped tighter—harsher.

“Nyla, what’s happened to you? What’s happened to Westley?” Sylzenya pleaded.

There are many things that I cannot say, even if I wish to, the bird in her vision had said.But I will say this—be wary of who you trust.

Sylzenya fought against the tightening vines and rough hands keeping her in place as she tried to help her friend remember herself.

Kharis, the Dynami Elnok had trusted, and another Kreena entered the sanctuary, carrying between them a man with dark hair, tattered clothes, and a blood-stained face.

Elnok’s pale green eyes grew wide as they found hers.

Sylzenya screamed his name as she lurched forward, only for the vines to squeeze her skin until it burned.

Horror ripped through her as Elnok fought against Kharis’ hold, her name falling from his lips as Kharis shoved him to his knees, directly across from her. He grunted with the impact, his face—covered in bruises—was strained in pain.

The Kreena kneeled next to Elnok, the golden light of their goddess being used to secure Elnok’s wrists to the ground and to bury his feet into the soil. Their goddess’ power no longer a source of life, but a weapon.

“This ismadness!” Sylzenya shouted.

“It is retribution,” the High One replied, “You are Estea’s salvation; this filth of a man has poisoned your mind away from your destiny and towards nothing but distraction and hedonistic pleasure.”

“It isn’t him who’s been poisoning minds,” Sylzenya spat.

The High One’s brows raised, nostrils flaring as a cruel smile curved on his thin lips. “You’ve been observant.”

“What’s he talking about?” Elnok questioned, his eyes drooping and body swaying as if he was barely hanging on by a thread.

Face burning, she wrestled harder against the vines. “He’s been poisoning the wine,allthe wine. And since Kreenas’ blood mixes into the soil while we create, it’s also been infecting the vegetation. It’s why Nyla and Kharis aren’t acting like themselves… why Kharis kept pressuring you to drink the wine and why Nyla wanted you to eat the plum.” She took a deep, shaky breath, “The wine rituals, the kingdom-wide banquet… everyone in Estea’s under its influence—hisinfluence. But not you, Elnok, because you can’t keep anything down besides food that’s been boiled.”

Elnok’s eyes widened.

The High One laughed, the sound causing her insides to freeze.

“And can you tell me why it is thatyouare no longer under my influence, Sylzenya?” the High One said in a dark grating voice.

The truth ran in her veins, gold and bright. “The orodyte serum.”

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