But somehow, she was sure El was moving along at her side.
They walked for several more minutes before the wind left. Ryn paused. She looked around. She nearly called El’s names to ask where he went when she spotted a white-haired woman a short distance away, lounging back against a rock and staring up at the starry sky.
“You see it, too, right?” Geovani’s unmistakable raspy voice reached Ryn. Ryn shivered as the cold air returned. She headed over to the woman. “The dragon,” Geovani clarified. “You see that it’s just for show?”
Ryn didn’t answer. It was Geovani’s fault she was seeing things.
“Didn’t I tell you there was more to the story? That the great war didn’t happen the way we think?” the old woman went on. She twisted a long, white lock of hair between her fingers. Her emerald robe was sprawled over the grass picking up bugs, but she didn’t notice.
“I never studied the great war, or the Celestial Divinities,” Ryn clarified. “And if you were trying to creep me out with all this‘eyes to see and ears to hear’nonsense, you’re doing a great job.”
Geovani threw her head back and laughed. “You’ll be glad you’ve opened your spirit eyes in the days to come, Adassah.”
“Stop calling me that.” Ryn glanced over her shoulder. The path was empty, the garden quiet.
Geovani’s eyes slid closed. The woman’s breathing turned heavy, and for a moment, Ryn worried she’d actually fallen asleep like that.
“Won’t you catch a cold?” Ryn tried, but she shook her head. It wasn’t her concern if the old woman got a cold. “Why did you give me ‘spirit eyes’ or whatever?” she asked instead. “I don’t want them. I keep seeing things no one else can see, and earlier today I heard…” She thought about the King, the chaos. The tormentors. “I heard…”
Why couldn’t she say it?
“You heard the truth for once. You heard things as they are, instead of as they seem,” Geovani said. She rolled onto her side and yawned. “You’ll need to keep listening to what’sreallyhappening. Watching what’sreallygoing on. An unseeing mind is completely incapable of representing El and his power,” she added. “And don’t you want to walk among mortals with his power at your fingertips?”
Ryn made a face. “That’s impossible,” she said. “I can’t wield the power of a god.”
“You can,” Geovani corrected. “And you will do great things with it.”
“Are you a prophet?” Ryn scoffed.
“Yes.” Geovani peeked an eye open just as Ryn’s face fell.
“Oh,” Ryn said.
“Don’t you want to know who El is? Why the Intelligentsia refuse to acknowledge him? Refuse to speak of him? Why his names have been wiped from the history books Weylin children are required to study?” Geovani sat up so fast, Ryn jumped. She pointed at Ryn. “It’s because he’s the Adriel God. The First God. The Highest God,” she said. “And those Celestial clowns didn’t win the war. El Tsebaoth did.” Geovani stood and shouted it over the garden. “El Tsebaoth!”
Bumps formed over Ryn’s flesh at the name Geovani called. It was like the name itself had shattered something in the atmosphere. A warmth fell into Ryn’s chest, and she placed a hand over it, sure her broken heart had suddenly cried out in response, reaching back, and taking hold of whatever was in the air and refusing to let go.
She spun back to the garden with wide eyes, scanning every tree and plant. Geovanimusthave been heard this time. Ryn and this crazy High Priestess were going to be dragged away and tossed in the palace prisons if Geovani didn’t keep it down.
“I’m not really a practicing Adriel,” Ryn called back to the Priestess. She thought of her mother though, who was. Who had always spoken aloud a prayer before bed. Who had said that Ryn didn’t have to be afraid of anything because the Adriel God was on their side. Ryn never understood that because she couldn’t imagine a life where someone didn’t have to be afraid of anything. Her mother had been dragged away, imprisoned, and had died of thecinder plagueafterward. So, where was her “god” then?
Ryn folded her arms. “I can’t possibly believe in the goodness of a god who can’t save his own people.”
Geovani lifted her head from the rock she used as a pillow. “You don’t think he saves them? You don’t think every single one of his people are free, whether they’re stuck here with us, or living in glory at his side?”
Ryn’s mouth parted. This High Priestess truly believed Ryn’s mother was living in glory? Ryn’s mother wastrappedin the afterlife; she wasn’t off somewhere, happy and well. If she was, she would have found a way to send word to Ryn even from the spirit world to let her know everything was alright. There would have been signs.
Geovani sighed. “You still don’t believe me.” She nodded like that was expected. Then out of nowhere, she asked, “Do you play any harp?”
Harp?
Ryn gaped. She cleared her throat. “I mean… a little.”
“Take a harp to the Celestial Divinities temple inside the palace then. Play an Adriel anthem. See what happens.” Geovani stretched, collapsed into the grass, and rolled back over to sleep again.
Ryn shook her head in disbelief. “And where exactly would I find a harp?” If she didn’t think Geovani was crazy before, she knew it without a doubt now. How had Heva turned out so normal if she was raised by this woman?
“There’s a harp on display in the hall not far from the temple entrance,” Geovani said, waving a hand as if to send Ryn off.