“This is the weirdest initiation yet,” I grumbled, remembering Jericho and Voss’s jokes about my GASP initiation. They’d been planning some complex prank for months to celebrate my official ascension as a GASP officer, but it had gone to hell with Isabelle’s clone. It would’ve been nice to wake up in the morning and realize that none of it was real.
Only it was.
“Whoa…” I heard myself say as I spotted something between the redwoods, about sixty yards from our redwood’s base.
It was Myst. Her long golden hair was unmistakable. Her fiery blue eyes twinkled in the darkness. The faint glow that snuck through the canopy danced across her longsword as she moved quietly through the forest. She seemed to be walking, but I wasn’t sure of her direction. She stopped and looked my way.
Her incandescent azure gaze found me in a split second, and I stopped breathing. How had this happened? What was she doing out here? How did she know to glance my way with such troubling precision? Every muscle in my body twitched as I sat up straighter. She clearly had my interest and maybe something more. I wasn’t sure. There were too many questions swarming through my head. Most revolved around Myst’s motives and modus operandi. Half of me wanted to doubt her like I doubted Brandon. The other half was at odds, however. The other half didn’t want to push her away by voicing suspicions—as if Myst were an ethereal vision that might scatter if troubled, even slightly.
What would I do with it, though? I had so many questions, but my body wasn’t exactly helpful. All I could do was straighten my back and stare at Myst for several long, silent heartbeats. Until I finally found the strength to jump over the railing. I bounced from branch to branch before reaching the ground. Looking around, I felt relief in the midst of such desertion.
But ahead, where Myst had been just seconds ago, there was no one. She’d already left. And I was left with no additional understanding, instead only more curiosity about who she was and what her role was in this entire alternative Shade clone mess. She had a part to play, and so did Brandon. We just had to figure out what that was.
Tristan
After the Festival of Lights celebration, one of Shezin’s priestesses came out to get us. She and the others had changed into black silks with gold embroidery from neck to chest, sprawling over their shoulders and upper backs. Matching gold bracelets jingled around their slender wrists. It took me a while to look away from the black tattoos on the priestess’s head as she guided us up the fifty steps and into the temple.
Occasionally, she looked back at us and smiled, the gold paint stretching on her lips. “Our god Shezin wishes to host you within the temple. It is an honor bestowed on few,” she said.
“We are humbled by his notice,” Unending replied.
Past the painted columns, the darkness of the temple waited. Outside, the party continued as the Dainians scattered away from the temple and headed for the taverns. The sky was lit with billions of paper lanterns burning. They would turn to ashes by the time they reached the puffy gray clouds that had begun to gather slowly over the kingdom.
We’d left Embry with the others, thanking her for her kindness and hospitality. Unending and I had agreed not to involve the Dainian girl in the next steps in our trial. If this situation were to end with Shezin dying, Embry didn’t need to be a part of it.
The temple’s interior was architecturally impressive. The walls were uneven, white with pure gold cutting across in different directions—thick bands that captured the candlelight in its metallic reflections. The ceiling was covered in gold and white paintings of Shezin’s many miracles, sprawling across the gypsum canvas with poetic continuity. Almost everywhere I looked, I saw images of him bathed in the sunlight of glory and worship. It made me sick to my stomach.
“You have a beautiful home,” I told the priestess. “It’s truly a sight to behold.”
“We have lived here for generations, ever since Shezin allowed us to build temples in his name. My mother and grandmother served him before me,” she replied as we crossed the main hall. Other priestesses were lighting the wall-mounted sconces with long matchsticks. Every fire that came to life brought out the beauty within this temple. Hours of labor had gone into building and decorating it, and there were plenty of details to prove it. “We are allowed to take lovers and have children. The boys are left in the care of their fathers. The girls we raise to follow in our footsteps.”
“You abandon your sons?” I asked.
“We cannot care for them while we serve Shezin, and our service to Shezin is for life. Only death may end it.”
Unending and I exchanged glances. This was beginning to sound more and more extreme. Beyond the lavish beauty and eye-catching ceremonies, their leader had allowed—or caused—unpleasant things to happen for generations. I wondered what else had come to pass under his eye aside from faithful women abandoning their sons and children vanishing every month, never to be seen again by their families.
“Your dedication is astounding,” Unending said to the priestess.
“Our god is kind and just. He deserves our unbroken loyalty.”
We stopped before an altar near the southern wall. It had been built with mineral stones of various sizes and colors, likely gathered from different parts of Dain. It didn’t have a particular shape, but its pieces were arranged into a makeshift platform on which offerings had been placed. There were necklaces and other assorted jewelry, gilded belts, precious glass trinkets, and handfuls of single gemstones—some polished, others raw from the mines. Flowers and yellowed scrolls—filled with words of love for Shezin, according to the priestess—were strewn across the altar and overflowed onto the floor. We waited there for a while, watching thousands of candles burn around the platform, the wax melting and dripping over the agate-like mineral stone.
The priestess bowed and left us, joining her sisters as they exited through a lateral door. We were on our own for a while, our breathing echoing through the hall. It felt strange to be in this place, utterly alone. “It’s creepy,” I muttered.
“Makes you wonder how much of what Anunit told us was a lie,” Unending replied. She looked worried, and I understood exactly what was bothering her. Death had obviously kept secrets. We knew that now. She’d lied. And she’d punished Unending for mistakes she herself had also made. The more Unending thought about it, the worse it stung. Our telepathic connection allowed me to eavesdrop on her thoughts sometimes, though it wasn’t her intention. “What are the odds that a rogue Reaper is being more truthful than my maker?”
“Right now? Pretty high, I’m afraid,” I admitted with a sigh. “I’m still baffled about why Death would encourage you to investigate if she’s lying. It doesn’t make sense. Shouldn’t she want to keep you away from this place and Shezin?”
Unending nodded. “Normally, yes. But what part of our existence has been normal thus far?” It made me chuckle, though my amusement held a bitter note. She had a point.
A faint jingling made us both turn around just as Shezin entered the hall. He’d changed into a black silk robe with large, gold disks sewn onto the chest and shoulders. The disks linked to a gold band that functioned as a high collar. He wore his long hair pulled into a tight bun on top of his head. It looked like the priestesses’ attire was designed to match his.