Page 146 of Between Wrath and Mercy

As he led us back down the darkened hallway, I practiced my nonchalance, wanting to bring up the prophecy in a manner that wouldn’t be suspect. I didn’t want to bring his attention to Elora too much or the fact I was curious. I felt like I could trust this man, but I knew from experience I couldn’t trust anyone. Rain was the only person with who I felt that kind of trust, and even it was hard-won. We went back out through the library and crossed under one of the arches of the arcade before going toward the western side of the cathedral, away from the doors we came in. Off to the side of the massive empty space, near where the branches of the building crossed, there was a small door—barely noticeable. It was made out of a dark wood, perhaps black ebony, and it blended in with the stones around it.

Upon opening the door, the Supreme grabbed a lit torch off the wall and dipped it to the ground where the wall met the floor. There was a flash, and a trench of oil ignited, spiraling down a circular stairwell, the fire dancing across the top of the liquid, lighting our path. We walked for what felt like an hour, and I lost count of how many stairs there were. I was pleasantly surprised as the stifling of my divinity lessened the farther we descended. I could feel the thrum in me returning, and I couldn’t help but smile, feeling better almost instantaneously.

Finally, the Supreme took a step down and then forward, no longer descending in a dizzying spiral. We were at the bottom of the steps, and I couldn’t see a single thing. I stopped, closing my eyes, and I could barely see in my subconscious the thin threads of gold connecting me to Rain. I heard a snap of fingers accompanied by a whooshing sound and opened my eyes.

Candles. Hundreds of candles in an underground cave.

And a stream.

I sucked in a breath, and Rain stepped behind me, putting both of my hands in his and resting his chin on my shoulder. “The stairs are right there, and we have our divinity again. We can rift out, Em.” His thumbs rubbed circles over the backs of my hands while his words soothed me, the heat of his breath warming my ear.

“It is a bit . . .dankdown here. We have a piping system, of course, that brings it up into the cathedral, and we send barrels to the various temples. But I assumed since you both came all the way here, you wanted the purest form of their gift.” The Supreme sounded reverent, and it was clear the man had a great respect for the gift the gods had granted.

“Of course, Your Holiness. Thank you.” My voice surprised me, not coming out as high and squeaky as I thought it would, but calm and measured.

He nodded, watching me almost curiously in the candlelight. “Your daughter may be the Beloved, is that right?”

I felt my body tense as Rain squeezed my hands tighter. “She may be. I’ve never brought her to a temple.”

“Yes, after the tragedy with your sister, that does not surprise me. I hope you’ll allow me to apologize, though it was no fault of the Myriad. It was most distressing to hear the tale.” The sad smile he gave me seemed genuine, but the words he said had a ring of something other than pity. Something which almost bordered on amusement. I didn’t like it.

“It was rather distressing to live it, Your Holiness.” My voice was sharper than I’d intended. The man had been kind and comforting upstairs, and things had gone much better than I expected. It would do me no good to ruin it now. “Actually, I was wondering if you had any of the original translations of the prophecy I could share with my daughter? As I’m sure you know, she’s been taken, but the second we get her back, I wanted to make up for lost time and help prepare her for the responsibility.”

The Supreme eyed me warily, maybe uncertain of my intentions after I’d snapped at him. I hoped my tone was apologetic enough.

“I believe I can spare a text that contains the original translation for the Beloved. Though, I’d give it only with the understanding you’d bring her to me personally to determine if she is the true Beloved or not.”

I felt a warm bead of sweat trickle down my spine at the thought.

“Yes, Your Holiness, of course.” Rain answered for me, pressing his chest against my back, steadying me. He knew we would do no such thing, and he lied directly to the Supreme’s face.

“Good,” The Supreme clapped, the smile back on his face. “Let us perform the ritual of the Soul, quench your thirst, and send you on your way.”

He turned around, hopping over the thin rivulet of stream, and I nearly snorted in amusement. First clapping, now hopping. The stream was small, no wider than my arm, and it wound in and out of the lit path. We walked for a few moments before finally making our way to an open circle surrounded by candles. I expected a small sort of pond to be at the center, but when we reached it, I was shocked to discover it was barely more than a puddle.

The Supreme pulled a few items out of his robes, and my divinity sensed them before I could see them. Another dagger and a goblet. This dagger was different than the one Shivani used, but it felt the same. I wanted both items desperately. I wanted to touch them, to take them.

“Kneel.” The Supreme gestured to the small puddle on the ground below us, the quiet bubble of water from the font pulsing. Rain and I knelt on either side of the font, facing each other.

“With this final declaration, the two who kneel before the font choose to complete the ritual, joining the Mind, Body, and Soul as one. They make an offering of their lifeblood to the gods and to one another, forging an unbreakable bond betwixt and between them.” The Supreme spoke quietly, holding the dagger outstretched in one hand and the goblet in the other. The flickering of candlelight made it impossible to read his expression, but it twisted his features into a darker version of the man from before. He took Rain’s hand and eyed his palm. “Oh. You could have healed that.”

“We weren’t sure if we were supposed to or not.” My husband’s voice was sheepish as if being reprimanded.

“Now, now, young man. Were you not paying attention when we last met?” The Supreme’s tone was chiding, and I felt vaguely unsettled. He’d been a soothing spirit when we were in the cathedral, but now he was grating against my nerves. He hummed before pricking Rain’s fingertip, drawing a single drop of blood. “One drop in the goblet, then rinse your hand in the font.”

Rain did as he was told, and the motions were repeated for me. When I rinsed my fingertip in the water, it stung the tiniest bit, and I could see a slight shimmering on my finger as it healed instantly, my palm not far behind. The Supreme bent down then, dipping the goblet into the font, filling it.

“Drink, and be one.” The Supreme smiled down at us as he passed the goblet to Rain. He took a long swallow before passing the goblet to me, the candlelight shining in his eyes showing the intense love and devotion he felt for me, and I knew he saw the same in my own. I raised the cup to my lips, watching him beam at me as I tipped it back. I nearly sputtered at the sulfurous taste mixed with something else, something sickly sweet. Dewalt had been right; it did taste like shit.

And then I felt it, the final thread. Gold and glowing and strong. I looked across the font at Rain, a soft smile forming on his face. He felt it too. I reached out with my divinity, letting it glide across the threads and felt his meet mine in the middle. Where mine felt warm and light, his felt cool and grounded. A perfect balance. A dance, a meeting, a merging. I could feel a surge of excitement coming from across the thread, and I startled, realizing I could feel Rain’s emotion. He laughed then, his smile wide and open, likely feeling my surprise on the other end of the thread. Dewalt and Lavenia hadn’t mentioned that. I wondered if Rain had known to expect it, thus his amusement. He stood, pulling me up into a chaste kiss, and I let myself relax the tiniest bit.

WhenweleftLamera,we both heaved a sigh of relief. Neither of us wanted to be there any longer, and I was more than disappointed—I’d failed to get any sort of book from the Supreme which could offer more insight into the prophecy.

After drinking from the font, the Supreme escorted us back to his library and office. He pulled out several books for us to sift through, all of them barely held together by their bindings. I knew they were at least a thousand years old, some even more. The Supreme opened each book to various sections and translated the more formal language into something we were better able to understand. It wasn’t that the language was foreign, but it was from a time when it was slightly different. Some of it meant the same, and yet some of it was slightly changed, just enough to distort the meaning minutely. It was fascinating and overwhelming at the same time. Though I wanted to leave desperately, the awful leaching of my divinity almost more painful when we came back up from the font, a part of me wanted to stay and pore over the texts with the Supreme helping translate what I read. Eventually though, Rain and I decided it was time to leave. It was an unspoken agreement, eye contact made that we were both able to interpret perfectly.

But when I asked the Supreme which tome he’d lend us, I realized I misunderstood his offer.

“Why, my dear, I told you I would lend it outonlyif you brought her to me so I could determine if she indeed was the Beloved. I’m sorry if there has been some sort of misunderstanding?” He held out his hands in supplication and glanced back and forth apologetically between the two of us. “I simply cannot lend these out to just anyone.” He paled then before clearing his throat. “Not that you two are just anyone, but I shouldn’t lend these out at all. I planned on making an exception if she were the Beloved, but . . .” He trailed off, his meaning clear. He would not be letting us take any of the books with us. Rain was poised to argue, but I gave him a look. We could not appear too eager.

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