Page 37 of The Scarlet Star

Tranquility rested upon the Abandoned Temple of the Adriel God. The birds overhead sang in their softest voices as though they knew the power moving through this space was divine. Ryn sat cross-legged in the shallow water with her eyes closed. To anyone watching, she would have appeared to be meditating. But she was listening.

She’d arrived at the Abandoned Temple at first light, tired and ready to fall asleep right there in the water after creepingfrom the King’s quarters before he woke, bringing the harp with her and returning it to its decorative pedestal in the hallway. She hadn’t planned to study the King’s face before she left—lying there in absolute serenity; his cheek smooshed against his pillow, his mouth parted, his eyes closed, his black hair splayed. But she’d wanted to see his dark lashes up close. He didn’t look crazy as he slept. In fact, he didn’t actually look like a king at all. Just a young man who’d found a moment’s peace.

She could have sworn that last night in his room, she’d caught him smiling at her.

Ryn’s eyes flashed open in the temple when she realized what she was thinking about. Along with it came visions of how desperate the young King had looked when he’d begged her to keep playing music in the other temple, and after that when she went to his chambers, obeying the unspoken orders she wasn’t sure he even knew he’d given. In that moment, she didn’t know what had come over her when she saw the desperation in his eyes. It reminded her of a starving child in the street looking for a morsel of food and a warm place to sleep. It was strange to see that in a king, of all people.

She wondered if King Xerxes had any idea he was in danger. That B’rei Mira had numbered his days. She pictured him sleeping again, his face relaxed upon his pillow. She imagined an assassin sneaking up on him that way and…

She shivered.

“Sorry,” Ryn whispered into the Abandoned Temple. She adjusted her legs and closed her eyes again. Then she said, “Why must I do this each morning though?”

“You’re like a Scarlet Star,”El whispered. His voice brushed along her mind, settling into her soul.

Ryn pictured the flower; the layered green stem, the deep red shoot at the top that made the blossom. It was only due to Kai’s flourishing garden that Ryn even knew what a Scarlet Star was.

“The cup in the flower’s bloom must always remain filled, or it will dry out and eventually die. It’s the same with you, Adassah.”

“I’m like a flower.” She made a face. “Warriors aren’t like flowers. They’re like smoke and fire and chaos.”

“And when a warrior goes to battle alone, he dies amidst his smoke and fire and chaos.”

Ryn’s mouth twisted to the side at that.

“I want to hurt people,” she admitted. She bit her lips. “I want to take the Weylins down. You said you had great power, so can’t I do that with your power in my hands?”

“You’re not fighting a battle of flesh and blood. It’s not people you’re after.”

Ryn sighed and folded her arms, struggling to keep her eyes closed. She felt an itch on her back. “It sure seems like it’s people I’m after.” She thought about the neighbour who brought the false charge against her mother. She thought about all the other Adriels across the city in prisons for unjust reasons. She thought about the rule that Adriels weren’t even allowed to set foot in the palace, simply because of their ‘tainted’ bloodline. Yes, people were exactly who she was after.

“Just be still.”

Be. Still.

Easy.

Ryn disobeyed the instruction almost immediately—she reached around and clawed at the terrible itch on her back. “Sorry,” she said again. She returned her hands and clasped them together so she wouldn’t do it again.

“Your hands aren’t to blame. It’s your thoughts that must be still.”

Ryn peeked one eye open and studied the decaying statue that had once represented a god. She wondered if El really looked likethat statue. She wondered if any mortal had actually seen the god face to face.

“El Tsebaoth,” she said one of his names. When she spoke it, warm wind flittered through the temple, rippling over the waters and shaking the curtains of ivy spilling from the ceiling. So, she said it again. “El Tsebaoth!” This time, she gasped as wind surged against her, brushing back her hair, spiralling into her stomach.

She huffed in disbelief.

“Do not use that name irresponsibly, Adassah.”

“Sorry.” Ryn bit down on a smile. All she was doing was apologizing, but she had fairly warned this god that she was not the ideal, devout, religious kind of person he should use, nor was she a warrior, nor was she the best candidate to summon godly power. “When will I get to use that sword again?” she asked.

“That sword represents my spirit. It’s for fighting the darkness,”he said.“Not people.”

Ryn’s face soured.

“How far will you go for the Adriels?”El asked.“Will you go to the ends of the earth for your people?”

The expression fell from Ryn’s face. “I’ll do whatever it takes.”

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