Page 88 of A Tribute of Fire

I had a flash where I remembered kissing Jason against that tree, but I shoved it away.

“Sometimes you’ll have a healthy plant where a stem or leaves have died. The plant’s instinct is to divert all of its energy to restoring the lost parts, which inhibits its growth. And so, as the gardener, you have to cut those pieces away so that there can be new leaves, new flowers, new life. Sometimes you have to brush away the parts of your life that no longer serve you so that you can move forward.”

There was a reason I’d resisted crying for so long. I wanted to hold on to those missing parts of myself, those loved ones who had been ripped away, my land that needed my help, the anger I had over how my nation had been treated. “I’m not sure I’m ready to do that.”

She nodded, her face somber. “I understand. But I also know what it’s like to be so caught up in bitterness and anger and sorrow that you miss out on the good things surrounding you. There can be a lot of joy waiting for you here. If you do what they ask and fulfill your obligations, this temple should be as much a sanctuary for you as it has been for the rest of us.”

Io walked farther away, letting her words sink into my heart while she cleaned another part of the porch. I had a hard time imagining her being bitter or angry or sad. She was the opposite of that.

It was the same advice Demaratus had given me, just phrased differently. I needed to get a handle on my emotions, to pay attention to what was happening now, to behave with honor and follow the law—but with one marked difference.

The battle to save Locris wasn’t over, so I couldn’t leave the battlefield or my fellow soldiers behind.

CHAPTER THIRTY

Between the two of us we quickly cleaned the patio and the steps. She showed me how to sprinkle the water and I didn’t protest that it seemed like a waste of time and did as she asked.

“Let’s go inside,” she said. We got the pot and carried it between us as we headed toward the massive bronze doors that had been closed to me the night of the race. I was about to ask her whether she had a key, but she pushed against the door and it easily swung open.

“Not locked?” I asked in surprise.

“These doors are never locked. There’s no need for them to be.”

Other than the statue downstairs that none of us were allowed to go near? “They were locked the night I arrived. I had to climb onto the roof and create a hole to get in.”

The expressions shifted rapidly across her face. At first she was confused and then shocked. “That’s not possible. They would never keep an acolyte out.”

“They would a Locrian one. And they did.”

For a second it seemed that I had overwhelmed Io and she appeared unsure as we walked into the temple’s main room.

“Did you really make a hole in the roof to get inside?” she asked, her eyes flickering upward.

“Yes. If I hadn’t, someone would have eventually killed me with an arrow.”

She shuddered slightly. “I’m sorry you went through that. I abhor violence.”

There was an older woman, probably close to my mother’s age, standing next to the top of the stairs. Her sharp gaze followed us as we walked in. I noticed that a sword hung at her side.

“Is she making sure we do our chores?” I asked under my breath.

“No, she’s not here for us.” Io said it like it was foolish for me to even think it. “She’s protecting the statue.”

Excitement bubbled up inside me. There was only one reason to post a guard.

The eye had to be downstairs.

It was so frustrating to be this close but not able to do anything about it. A part of me fantasized about running past the guard, sprinting down the stairs, grabbing the eye, and being out of the temple complex before anyone could catch me.

But what if the eye wasn’t there? I couldn’t take the risk of breaking a rule that had been communicated to me multiple times and being expelled from the temple.

I would have to bide my time.

We put the pot on the ground. “I thought she was here just to keep an eye specifically on me.”

I bit down a groan. Why had I used that as my phrasing? I might as well have painted my plan on my forehead where everyone could see it. My guilty conscience was getting the better of me.

“Why would she need to keep an eye on you?” Io asked, as oblivious as ever.

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