Page 9 of Insolence
“More like won’t stop telling me. I’m not sure I believe it, is all.”
She shifts toward an archway separating the receiving room from her bedroom. “I don't know what to tell you, then.”
For the most part, her expression has been inscrutable since I stepped in here, almost as if she’s wearing some sort of… mask.
I sigh through my nose. “Is everyone who comes here put through the… the mind-cleansing?”
“Purification of the mind. And yes. All new initiates receive the ritual. It was done to me, too, when I first arrived.”
“But why? What purpose does it serve other than to strip away everything about our lives?” Overpowering and far too familiar, tears well in my eyes, and I slump in my chair. “Our families, friends, homes… All of it is justgone. I don’t understand.”
Her stance softens, sympathy transforming her features. Suddenly she’snothinglike the guarded, hostile woman in the greenhouse. Not that I want her pity, but at least it’s marginally better than the wooden mask.
“I know it’s a lot to take in. I struggled, too, at first,” she says, her voice gentle now. Her resumed pacing brings her behind me, where she comes to a stop. “Giving our lives over to the goddess is an act of selfless devotion. In doing so, we receive her blessings in kind. We gain her wisdom by relinquishing our individuality and ties to our former lives. In realizing our humility, we allow her to possess us completely.” She steps closer.
Every molecule of my body vibrates at her proximity. “It sounds like you’re reciting from some dusty old tome.”
“Love is sacrifice, Tiss.” Her breath falls to where I’m seated, caressing the back of my neck and sending sparks leaping down my spine.
It’s difficult to ignore the flash of heat low in my belly, the insistent ache between my thighs; I’m uncomfortably aware of the wetness growing there. Her presence carries a magnetism that’s both undeniable and unavoidable. I feel drawn to her, wrenched out of myself toward her.
The pulsing connection between us has only grown deeper and stronger since I’ve been sitting here. Perhaps it’s the strangely withheld questions she began with, the way she protected me yesterday, or whatever is roiling beneath her perplexing facade, but I want to find out everything I can about her.
“I think it’s time for you to leave,” she murmurs. “Dinner will be served soon.”
Of course.The second I relax, she wants to boot me. But my body and gravity have other plans. As soon as I get to my feet, all of the blood drains from my head. The room slants wildly, and I cry out, lurching forward.
“Goddess,Tiss.” She’s at my side in half a second, one arm tight around my waist, the other gripping my elbow. “Steady there. Come on. Sit with me a moment.”
She pulls me with her before I can protest. Her hands are cool through my clothes, her touch firm, which isn’t helping with my unsteady legs.
Her fragrance drifts to my nose. It’s warm and lightly sweet but also aromatic, like amber mixed with cedar. The smell brings on the sharpest sense of...something.
Something I had. Something I lost.
I suddenly want to fold in half, right here, because the heartache of losing it is more than I can bear. But I’m not even sure whatitis.
There’s something else there too, something disorientinglybigthat I can’t name, but it makes me want to laugh and cry at once.
My heart beating wildly, my vision clearing, I let her guide me down next to her on the settee. “I don’t know what came over me,” I garble, my tongue thick in my mouth.
“Elevation sickness.” She leans away, reaching for a side table. The sound of trickling liquid reaches my ears.
When she turns back, a brimming chalice is pushed into my hand.
“Water.” She levels that cutting, nerve-fluttering gaze at me again. “The high altitude makes the ritual’s physical aftereffects worse for those of us not accustomed to it during our lives before. You need to drink fluids constantly until you adjust, or youwillpass out. Ask me how I know.”
“Thank you.” I lift the cup, swallowing several mouthfuls. The metal’s solid heft is grounding. “You wouldn’t happen to know where I’m from, do you? I’m wondering if it wasn’t that little village at the base of the waterfall.”
“Karsyn. And I’m afraid the sisters keep that sort of thing confidential.”
Karsyn.I pause, waiting for the village name to strike a familiar chord. It doesn’t.
She watches me bring the cup to my lips again. Her eyebrows knit together, forming a contemplative crease that’s irresistibly attractive. “Better?”
“I think so. The room no longer wants to tilt out from under me.” She’s sitting close enough that her knees brush mine, the modest contact igniting fervor in my veins. The echo of her touch still pulses on my waist and arm, throbbing to thepoint of distraction. “Is it normal that I can remember general information about the realm and society and the gods and goddesses, but I have no idea who I am or what I was doing last week?”
“That’s quite normal,” she nods. “The ritual is designed to leave common knowledge in place while erasing everything about your identity, more or less. You do need to function, after all.”
