Page 31 of Vilest Things
“The paperwork has started.” August dragged a hand through his wet, rinsed hair. “For the legal adoption.”
The color had set in perfectly, an even application down to his roots. Blond suited him. The rest of his face was so sharp that this softened the edges and added a new air of pleasantry.
“That’s… that’s good,” Galipei said, startled. “Right?”
“Depends who you ask,” August replied. “But it is a necessary step, so that’s all that matters.”
Then he offered a sardonic smile to end the conversation and Galipei shut up in an instant, the same way that mortal sacrifices stilled in the presence of their gods, a second prior to being consumed.
San-Er prickles when Galipei trips on the front stoop of a building, then stomps his boot hard into the entryway to gather his bearings. He’s almost there. The Hollow Temple is on Loyan Back Street. It can be accessed only through a rear door in this low-rise because the temple is enclosed on all four sides by other buildings, tucked away like the cities’ secret.
August has dyed his hair back to its original color. August won’t go up to his study, as though he’s forgotten about its existence. And when it comes to the kingdom, August may be putting through the reforms he lined up on his desk, but he does it with such a heavy hand that one would think he’s stamping things into action without reading a thing or listening to any of his advisors.The grumbles have already started about August being more vain than his adoptive father, more concerned about palace drama than the people’s well-being, and there is no world in which that would be true, much less one where August would let that show to the public.
There have been too many missteps within such a short period of time. Too many items on the agenda that August has forgotten about, and at the end of the day, August is toosmartto screw up like this.
Galipei’s surroundings grow muffled the moment he leaves the sixth-floor marketplace and passes through a small door at the end. The stairwell echoes with dripping water. Something is squeaking on the second-floor landing while he descends. When he passes by, a family of rats burst out of the corner and chase each other down to the ground level ahead of him.
Galipei grimaces. At last, he steps out from the building. If anyone is going to make a fuss about his presence, it will be now. No other way to come in and out, unless he were to tear a hole through the mesh grille above the temple.
It’s quiet. The grille creaks with the wind, bogged down by years of trash falling from the surrounding windows. He waits, observing a few Crescent Society members in conversation around the perimeter of the building. The Hollow Temple is the nearest place of worship to the palace. They come few and far between in the twin cities—it is not that San-Er has entirely abandoned its old gods, but the few devoted perform their piety in private. Kitchen shrines and small incense sticks stuck into hallway pots. Dried flowers taped to front doors and joss paper burned on the rooftops.
Truthfully, though, the temples do not serve those believers. The temples are the last remnants of San-Er’s early years, continuing into the present only because the Crescent Societies have taken over the facade of religiosity for their operations.
Galipei steps into the Hollow Temple, nudging the heavy door aside. The vermillion paint chips off and sticks to the pads of his fingers. All sense of warmthdrains from him as he walks down the pews, his breath appearing in clouds with each huff. He proceeds forward. Kneels before the statues erected at the front.
He recognizes none of them—by his parents’ generation, the schools stopped teaching their names—but their watchful eyes are all-surrounding. The pantheon wants to fill the space of worship that Galipei has carved out inside himself. They’re aware of what has changed. They know his ears are open to their whispers, seeking a new answer in the emptiness left behind.
When August asked for Otta to die, he seemed worried that she would wake up. Galipei can’t comprehend it. Otta has woken indeed, fine, butno onehas woken from the yaisu sickness before. In what world should he have assumed it was a possibility? WhydidAugust consider it possible?
Galipei hears the approach of footsteps. These looming deities have shaken him. Their ten-foot, larger-than-life sneers; their frozen arms pulled back, ready to plunge their swords into an enemy.
Have I disappointed him?he asks the gods.
“Outsiders aren’t welcome at the Hollow Temple.”
A part of him wonders if he deserves to be shut out, if he’s been lacking on the fronts where August needs strength. Another part is certain that something lurks beneath the surface here, some surprise attack gearing up unwatched. Otta has woken. August is acting different. Two impossible matters tend to be related, do they not?
“I’m not here for trouble,” Galipei says slowly. “I only wanted to pray.”
“Sure. That’s why you sent a message ahead asking to speak to the eldest occupant of the temple.”
Galipei shifts on his knees. He turns slightly, running a courtesy glance over the temple elder standing to his side. The elder has a slight hunch in his back, his white beard running cleanly down his chin. He has dark eyes: near-black, Galipei thinks at first, but then the old man faces him, and he discerns that it is a shade of deep green, swallowed up by the red temple lights.
“It’s rather empty in here,” Galipei remarks, gesturing around them.
“Numbers are down,” the elder replies evenly. “Palace arrests. Palace executions. You know how it is.”
“Ah.”
August hasn’t had time to deal with the Crescent Society members arrested after Leida was hauled in. Those stacks were left in his study, because Galipei wanted to discuss them.
“Might I ask, then,” the elder says, “whether I may aid your prayer?”
“No need. I only sought a space. There aren’t any shrines in the palace.”
“Plenty of havoc in the palace these days.” He must have heard about Otta Avia and her miraculous recovery. “It cannot be difficult to smuggle a shrine through those doors if you have become devout.”
Galipei has considered this matter deeply. He has had no epiphanies, except that he does not know enough.
