Page 91 of Grave Situation

“Y-Yes, ma’am.”

Hearne and Master exchange a grim look, and then Hearne asks, “Where did you live before that—where are you from?”

“Innsbrith, in the Halyn Isles. M-My family is still there.”

I turn that information over in my head. I’ve never been to the Halyn Isles—too far north, far too cold, and boring to boot—but they’re basically as far from here as you can get while still remaining on the continent. Maybe I’m misremembering—it’s not like I paid all that much attention to temple studies—but I thought the temples liked to keep their acolytes and priests local. The general consensus being that people were more comfortable with priests of their own cultures and upbringings. It seems odd that an acolyte from the Isles would be in a temple in Camblin. I’m not sure if the Isles has a temple large enough to train acolytes, but surely the next best thing would be my own home country of Rebithia.

Something is definitely going on with the temples.

“We may speak more about that later,” Master says kindly. “Which temple are you assigned to? The one in Josanin?”

Arimen shakes his head. “No, sir. I’m at the Sanctuary.”

We wait for more information, but it’s not coming.

“The Sanctuary,” Jaimin repeats. “I’m not familiar with that one. Where’s it located?”

Pointing shakily to the west, he says, “On the coast. About an hour’s ride.”

Remembering something, I reach out to Master.“Yesterday, Tia said Leicht saw a group of buildings over that way. They thought it looked too orderly to be a fishing village.”

Master doesn’t reply, just nods and says to Arimen, “We may speak more about that later too. For now, what can you tell us about what happened yesterday? Did the bishop advise you why you were leaving the temple?”

He looks shocked. “Not the bishop. He doesn’t speak to the acolytes. My mentor said news had arrived of a c-criminal fleeing a convocation, and our temple had been asked to apprehend him.” His face crumples slightly. “He didn’t mention the dragon.”

“I’m sure he didn’t,” Hearne mutters. “Did he say why so many of you were needed?”

Arimen shakes his head. “It was not my place to ask.”

Ugh. Not his place toask? How’s he supposed to become a full-fledged priest if he can’t ask questions? What the hell kind of teachers do the temples have?

“What about the archers?” Master prods. “Did you know they were there?”

Fear steals over his expression, and behind me, Jaimin sighs. “You’re not in trouble, Arimen. We just need to know how this all happened.”

“You should talk to the bishop,” he suggests eagerly. “Or one of the mentors. They would know more than me.”

“But they’re not here right now, and you are,” Master reminds him. “So… what did you know about the archers?”

“I-I knew we had archers at the Sanctuary,” he falters. “I see them training sometimes. One of the other acolytes—a new one—asked if the criminal was dangerous and we should have w-weapons, but my mentor said that was taken care of.”

“Did your mentor say what your job was, exactly?”

“My job is whatever the Sanctuary and holy Wasianth require it to be,” he says promptly, as if by rote, clearly relieved to be able to give an answer.

“Yes, of course.” Master smiles thinly. “But specific to this task. Did your mentor give further instructions?”

Arimen’s gaze darts from face to face. “Only to follow his lead and remain silent.”

“Interesting,” Hearne muses. “What about during the altercation? When the bishop confronted Mage Silverbright while they were conversing? Were you given further instructions?”

His head turns from side to side. “No.”

“When the archers began to shoot?” Hearne persists, and Arimen hunches in on himself, shaking.

“N-No.”

“Were you frightened?” Coryn asks gently. “It’s okay if you were. I suppose priests don’t expect to be in the middle of such things.”

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