“Then believe in a world where we are not subservient to men.”
I could do that, but I didn’t like the idea of handing over that dream to gods I did not know.
“Why must we rely on gods to create that world? Why can we not do it on our own?”
“If women believed in their power, perhaps we could,” she said. “But you cannot rouse the downtrodden without a show of great power. The gods under the mountain have promised that.”
I sat across from her, uncertain. I believed there were gods under the mountain, or at least some kind of powerful magic, but I didn’t trust what they promised. Would these Elohim just give us another book, create another religion?
“If I cannot convince you,” she said, “then let me introduce you to the women of the Order of the Serpent.”
“In exchange for what?” I asked. “The blade?”
“I am offering because they wantyou,” she said.
I almost scoffed, but then she added, “You should accept their invitation. If they only wanted the blade, they could have killed you already. That’s the only thing about witchcraft theBook of Splendorgot right. It’s dangerous.”
I started to ask why they wanted me. What did they know about me other than I had one of the seven blades and that I was an Elohai? But a knock at the door interrupted me—thoughknockwas a generous word.
Whoever was on the other side slammed their fist against it, shaking the glass in the window.
We both froze.
“Enforcers,” Saira whispered.
I snatched my journal from the table and wrapped anarm around Cherub as I rose to my feet. Saira followed, slipping the silver tin of jade into her pocket and grabbing a candle.
“Come,” she said.
I followed her into the back room where she approached the wall and felt around until part of it gave way to reveal a hidden door.
She ushered me inside and followed, sliding a lock in place.
She turned with her candle, which provided no light, save to illuminate her drawn face.
“You mean to tell me you have an escape tunnel but no flashlight?”
She narrowed her eyes and stepped past me, blowing out the flame. A second later, a bright light shone into my eyes. I held up one hand to shield my face and used the other to cover Cherub’s.
“Careful what you wish for,” she said, shifting the light away. She reached up and retrieved another flashlight, which was leaning on a metal pipe secured against the wall. She handed it to me. “Let’s go,” she said.
Behind us, there was a crash. The enforcers had made entry. I wondered how long they’d been watching and if they’d seen me enter.
“Will they destroy your shop?” I asked.
“Likely,” she replied.
The silence was heavy.
“I’m sorry,” I said.
She didn’t acknowledge my apology, and I didn’t blame her. My words were meaningless in the face of such a violation.
We were quiet for some time. The only sound was ourfeet scraping over rotting wood as we made our way through the dank tunnel. I took a few seconds to shine the flashlight up and around, finding that the walls and ceiling were reinforced with brick and wooden arches.
“When was this built?” I asked.
“Before the fire,” she said. “We knew the end was coming, so we prepared.”