Priestess Awakened Read online

  “You should have mentioned that earlier.” I stepped onto the rock and actually, it wasn’t cold at all. It was as warm as a person. I spread myself out on it and it sort of shifted to conform to the shape of my body and support it. Surprisingly relaxing, but at the same time, disconcerting. If the rock could move, it probably swallow me up if it wanted. The sigil on my tailbone grew warm at the touch.

  “Stand around her—you, there…” The Elders directed Niko to stand at my head and Gilbert and Forrest at either side of me. “Yes. Just like that. Stand still and the ritual can begin.”

  “In better days, we would have time for a rehearsal,” one of the other elders said, with a soft laugh.

  “Close your eyes.”

  The elders didn’t seem to need any rehearsal, even though no priestess had made it this far in so long. They must practice, waiting. They lit the candles one by one as they started chanting a low melody, some of them taking a counterpart. Although they told me to close my eyes, I couldn’t help opening them here and there as the room filled with flickering light. Golden flashes illuminated the stone ceiling, which was shaped irregularly like this place had started as a cave.

  I smelled some herbs burning—aleroot and smokeflower and trueward. They had a rich, festive scent. Smoke curled by my nose as a little golden incense burner was passed over my body, between elders.

  They lifted a heavy rock and carried it toward me in two sets of hands. My eyes flew open as they started lowering it toward my pelvis.

  “You sure you won’t crush me?” I cried.

  “No, priestess. Never. The weight will be distributed and you are quite strong.”

  The rock sat in the curve within my hip bones, settling very heavily onto me. My body seemed to sink a little deeper into the rocks. I was pinned down by its weight, and that made me panic, but I realized it didn’t really hurt. It bared down on the sigil on my pelvis, stirring a deep feeling within me. It wasn’t the same as desire, but I was almost too sensitive, my nerves prickling around the stone.

  They placed the second rock on my breast. I was ready for the weight this time, breathing deeply around the edges of panic. It was harder to breathe once the rock sank down onto my chest.

  “Let your breath slow down naturally,” one of the elders said, as the others continued their chant. “Match the pace of the rock.”

  “Rocks don’t breathe, though?”

  “Exactly.”

  I tried. I let my breath come slower and slower. I focused on the chanting and tried to see just how long I could hold my breath as the rocks pressed down on me. Pretty soon I realized I wasn’t breathing at all. My whole body seemed to be turning to stone. I tried to flex my hands and I couldn’t do it at first. It was like trying to shoot out of bed with a hangover—I wasn’t actually paralyzed, but it just wasn’t happening.

  “Good,” the elder said, as another rock was placed on my forehead. It was large enough that it blocked most of my vision as well. I could only see out under the edge, straight past my nose. I can’t see. I can’t breathe. I can’t move…

  As I started to get nervous again, the stone itself seemed to take hold of me and urge me to slow down. I just need to let go…just surrender to this feeling…

  The chanting song of the elders continued, the smokey smell and the music rolling over me, and I started to feel as if I were tipping into a trance. I knew magic existed and I felt it when it poured out of me and into my guardians, but I had never been so close to tasting it for myself. There was magic that could be mine, I thought, magic in the rocks and stones.

  This is what I’ve always wanted…

  I heard a commotion somewhere.

  I tried to move and all the rocks pinned me down. A door burst open. The chanting stopped. An old man went, “Ungh!”

  “Shit!” Forrest barked.

  “What’s going on? Get these rocks off me…” My speech was a little sluggish as I stirred from my hazy state. I could still lift my arms and legs but even they still moved in slow motion. Out of my slit of vision, I saw soldiers in black armor storming into the room, stabbing one of the old men.

  “Oh, no…,” I gasped, the rock feeling heavier on my chest than before. I put my hands on the rock that covered my face but I couldn’t seem to move it.

  “Protect Phoebe,” I heard Forrest say, as blades slid together. He was farther away from me now. He must have rushed forward to engage the soldiers.

  “Don’t worry, darling, they’re not putting a finger on you,” I heard Niko say, followed by an unpleasant sort of puncture and gurgling sound. I heard Rin’s grunt and the sound of Gilbert’s bow touching the strings.

  “A bard. Don’t let him play,” someone said. “Bards are the worst.”

  “Cover the commander!” someone else said.

  “The priestess. Three guardians.” A voice penetrated the noise. It was almost gentle, almost tired—but not quite either of those things, because I could hear something else beneath it that sent cold fear down my spine. “If you fight now, none of you will be spared. You’d have to get through me and the rest of my men. The empire will kill every last Elder in this temple for being complicit. Give us the girl, and I will forget this even happened.”

  “Never,” Forrest growled, his voice so vicious I could imagine spittle flying out of his mouth. “My only goal in this life is to protect that girl.”

  “Mine as well,” Gilbert said. He was softer, but no less sincere.

  Someone must have looked at Niko, because after a moment, he just said, “Commander Abelard du Lac. Your reputation both precedes you…and supersedes you.”

  “Do I know you?”

  “I am known, mostly, as the Lucky Dragon.”

  “I’m not familiar,” Abel said, dismissive. “I don’t really care about any of you. Guardians are not useful without the priestess.”

  “Guardians are linked to the priestess,” Sir Forrest said. “If you plan to kill her, you might as well cut us all down where we stand—or try. That would be our fate in any case.”

  “I don’t really want to kill her,” Abel said. “She’s an innocent. When one priestess dies, another rises to take her place. I can’t help it if they keep sacrificing themselves while in captivity…”

  “That isn’t what I heard!” It sounded like Forrest tried to lunge at Abel and someone held him back.

  “Weren’t you one of mine, once? I feel as if we’ve met.”

  “I was in your goddamned army. I was in Pero when we slaughtered the Hawk Mountain clan.”

  “Then, control yourself. You know what I can do.” I heard boots creak toward me. My arms flailed. The anticipation was too much. I saw a leg pass by the altar and a moment later, the rock was lifted off my head.

  Commander Abel was looking right down at me, and despite Niko’s wise-ass comment, I’m not sure his reputation did “supersede” him. Sure, he was of average height, maybe even an inch or two on the short side. But that was about the only point for our team. His black and silver armor was exquisite, fitted and expensive but also very dangerous looking, and his eyes were even more strange than Niko’s. They were a very pale blue-gray, like ice frozen on a winter lake. They were cold and penetrating, like something that had been human, now brought back to life, and no longer quite the same. Maybe it wouldn’t have been quite as strange if he had fair hair, but no, his hair was a thick dark brown. It didn’t match his eyes at all.

  When I met his eyes, my sigils burned. All of them at once. And I mean, burned. I cringed with something that was almost—but not quite—pain.

  “Don’t touch her,” Forrest warned.

  “Stay back.” Abel’s voice slid through my ears like a knife against my throat. Forrest stopped where he stood, his breathing labored.

  Abel lifted the other rocks off me, and then he pulled me to my feet. I still felt all sluggish but it didn’t matter. He scooped me up into his arms. I had a good look at the room for the first time as my weight sank heavily into the enemy’s
arms, the cold metal ornamentation of his armor pressing into my skin, my bare feet dangling.

  Forrest and Rin both moved to block his exit. The other soldiers in the room edged closer to them. Some of them were gripping the Elders’ robes in their fists, their weapons held threateningly.

  Between my sluggish body, my burning sigils, and a general cloudiness in my head, I really wanted to faint. But I had never fainted before, and now was not the time to start. One word from Abel, and this could be a massacre of the elders.

  “Forrest, Rin…stand down,” I said. “It’s—it’s too late. You need to protect the elders… They’ve been here for centuries. Priestesses come and go.”

  That sounded really brave, didn’t it? Damn, I was brave.

  I was also this close to fighting Abel off, bursting into tears, and letting the entire situation go down the drain. Some dark part of me thought maybe if I was going to die, everyone should die, but I fended that off. Himika was a princess and she had defied Emperor Leonidas so bravely. I should be able to manage half of that, at least.

  “We don’t even have a reason to trust he’ll let the Elders live,” Forrest said.

  “Actually, you do. We’ve let them live this long,” Abel said. “Enough people still believe them that it would not be good policy to kill them. Another generation, perhaps…but not today. I’m sorry. We’ve been tracking you since the Ridgefell safe house. You never stood a chance. You can safely attend your grandmother’s funeral, sir.” He looked at Forrest.

  “You bastard.” Rin and Gilbert had to hold Forrest back. He spat at Abel’s feet.

  Behind him, I noticed the look in Niko’s eyes. He didn’t look like he had any intention of fighting, and I had a twinge of irritation—some guardian you are, Niko—until I noticed the venom in his strange eyes. Amber met ice.

  “Abelard du Lac,” he said again. “I suppose you were born in the du Lac estate. Showered with everything a child could want.”

  Abel’s brow furrowed.

  “Must be nice,” Niko said. “To know you’re wanted. To know where you came from.” He reached out, gripping one of my hands. I felt two hard squares pressed into my hand. His dice.

  Abel’s eyes pointed toward my guardians, and the soldiers pushed them back with spears. He carried me toward the door. My eyes passed over them all, clinging to Forrest until I was torn away. Maybe forever. I bit my lip hard to stop it from trembling.

  I was carried up stairs, down some hallway, barely registering the beautiful arched passage carved from crystal. An armored imperial carriage was waiting in a courtyard outside. Abel put me down, feet on sun-baked pave stones, and tied my hands behind my back. Then he whipped off his own cloak and swept it around me, fastening it with a silver pin. He opened the carriage door and lifted me onto the seat. Then he climbed in beside me from the other door.

  “Home,” he told the driver, leaning forward.

  “Didn’t the emperor want to see her?”

  “He can come to me.”Abel’s fingers gripped the seat hard before he sat back. “The others died under somewhat mysterious circumstances. I am keeping her close.”

  “The others? Other priestesses? How many have you known?”

  “The cycle for a new priestess to awaken takes about five years from the time one priestess is killed. It is to my benefit to keep you alive. Much less work to keep you than to find another.”

  I writhed as my sigils throbbed against my skin, burning my skin.

  “Are you hurt?” Abel asked, not like he cared, but like he wanted to protect his prize. “Your forehead is glowing.”

  “My sigils…they hurt.”

  He drew off one of his gloves and tapped my forehead with his finger.

  “Ahh!” I sucked in air that tasted of warm leather, like the bench seat of the carriage, fighting off tears of pain.

  Abel yanked his hand back and quickly sucked on his finger before putting his glove back on. “We have balm at the house.”

  ‘The house’ was the largest dwelling I had ever seen. I knew it belonged to his family alone because it had its own gate with a crest on top framed by scrolling letters that said “du Lac”. It was, of course, still in the city, because there was no such thing as being out of the city. But this must be the neighborhood where the richest people lived, because they had actual yards with groomed flowers and hedges instead of fruits, vegetables, and chickens to maximize space, and the building was more wide than tall, with four stories that spread into wings around a central structure with a round tower.

  We were met by several guards and a few servants—a middle-aged woman with two younger maids. Abel lifted me down from the carriage and told the woman, “See to it that she is properly dressed to meet the emperor and give her some balm—and maybe some healing tea with a bit of brandy. But keep the guards close. Leonidas will surely want to see her right away.”

  “Yes, m’lord. This way, miss. Step lively, now. You don’t want to keep his imperial majesty waiting.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  The housekeeper—Mrs. Maxwell was her name, I’d gathered—and maids clucked over me, while four guards watched.

  “What are we going to do?” one of the maids asked. “We don’t have a lot of clothes for ladies just sitting around!”

  “Don’t I know it. Well, there is no help for it. No time for dressmakers. She’s a prisoner. She doesn’t need to bedazzle anyone, but we just can’t have her sitting there in her lacy bits. Get your good blue dress and we’ll tuck and pin it if we need to.”

  “I don’t mean to be in my lacy bits,” I said, feeling self-conscious. “I was in the middle of a sacred ritual.”

  “We know what you are, but it’s best to put that aside now,” Mrs. Maxwell said. “I’ll give you a tip, from what I’ve heard. Leonidas is quite a soft touch to women who present themselves with grace. Don’t try and defy him, just be your sweetest self with your best manners.”

  “And then what?” I couldn’t help but sound confrontational. The last thing I wanted to offer Mr. Execution-Happy Emperor was my sweetest self and my best manners.

  “Well, perhaps you can stay a while,” she said, unpinning my hair from the last braid Gilbert had plaited for me. “It might do the master good to have a woman around.”

  One of the maids, the blonde, frowned. “You know he won’t even notice.”

  “Is he ever cruel to you?” I asked, trying to get a sense of the place.

  “Not here. Not to us. He is rarely home and when he is, he’s still working. But work—is another story. I’m sure you know that Commander Abel is the fiercest man in the whole army. If you don’t want to be hurt, you should make a good impression to the emperor. Not like that Gaermon princess—”

  “I can’t believe she said that to our emperor, in front of everyone!”

  “She was very beautiful. What a shame. She’s going to be in prison until she’s old and no one will ever see that face of hers again,” Mrs. Maxwell said. I couldn’t tell, from her tone, if she actually thought it was a shame, or if a part of her relished the idea of a beautiful princess falling off her pedestal.

  My stomach twisted. At first I assumed the maids were nice, and now I thought maybe they weren’t. Maybe if I wasn’t my sweetest self, I would be locked up forever too. Right now that still sounded better than execution, but maybe I would eventually go crazy.

  I was still holding Niko’s dice. No one had taken them from me. I guess dice didn’t look dangerous. I clenched them until their edges hurt my palm.

  The maids brushed out my hair and one of them produced the blue dress, a plain frock with a single frill of lace around the scooped neck and elbow-length sleeves. It had a sash at the waist, and fell in an uninspired way down to my ankles. My sigils were still burning. I think they forgot about the balm and I decided not to bother reminding them. I’m not sure it would have helped, and I didn’t want them to touch me. They did offer me a cup of tea, just as Abel walked in the door. He had changed out of his arm
or and was now wearing an elegant black suit with a frock coat and red cravat. Old-fashioned, but that was how the upper echelons of society were. The ones at the tip top didn’t even bother with the ever-changing whims of fashion. He barely looked at me. “Emperor Leonidas is at the gate. We must go downstairs. Tie her hands up again, please. Has she given you any trouble?”

  “No, I haven’t,” I said, annoyed at being talked over.

  “Mm.” I don’t think he believed me, although it was true! I had barely said a word. I stuck the dice in my pocket and then let the guard tie my hands.

  “Come on,” Abel said. “You’re a silly little thing, for supposedly being the most dangerous woman in the world.”

  “Am I?”

  “Of course…the danger you pose is only symbolic. Still, you should bear in mind that in the eyes of our emperor, you are a threat to the realm. You are dangerous. This is not the time to be defiant or cavalier. If you want to live out your days, you want him to think you are barely even aware of your role. You were a pawn of the elders, that’s all.”

  “Hmph.”

  “None of that either.” We were walking down a carpeted stairway to a hall, but before he opened the door, he paused and gripped my shoulder. “Priestess, do you want the last thing you see to be me drawing my sword to have your head?”

  “N—no.”

  “You are a pawn,” he said.

  “Why don’t you want to work with the priestess anyway?” I asked. “Why doesn’t the emperor want to close the gate? I know people are easier to control when they’re scared, but this is pretty extreme, isn’t it? Wouldn’t it be good for the economy or something to close the gate? And monsters kill your men, too.”

  “Outpost accent,” he said. “Outpost propaganda…outpost stupidity. Perhaps we can enlighten you. Just keep your mouth shut.” He opened the door.

  “Ah, good afternoon, Commander.” Emperor Leonidas looked like he had just been seated and given a drink by the footman standing off to one side. It was strange to see him looking more informal and having a drink. In my mind, he was The Emperor. Not human. Barely real. A symbol of hope or fear, depending on my shifting perspective. “She is a pretty one. What is your name, child?”