Page 125 of Cursed Dreams
Thalia groaned and buried her face in her hands again.
“Shut up Cellen, you're not helping” Marand clipped the back of his head.
“I can’t believe I’m temple gossip.”
“Templelegend,” Cellen corrected with a half-smile, though the concern never quite left his eyes. “But for what it’s worth… I stashed the map. Deep under the eastern archives. I even charmed the tile so only I can lift it.”
A wave of relief passed through her like a breath of wind. “Thank the gods.”
“We’ve got your back,” Nyla said fiercely, reaching out to squeeze her hand. “Whatever he does next, we’ll be ready.”
“Even if he tries to set the map on fire with hissmouldering glare,” Cellen added. “Which, to be fair, is a very real possibility. "That earned him a weak laugh
Thalia felt her shoulders drop, surrounded by the people who made her feel just a little bit safer in the chaos unravellingaround her. Her thoughts churned like a river in flood. There was a feeling inside her like something was dangerously close to breaking, and she wasn’t sure how much more she could take. She lead her head on Nyla's shoulder and let her friend comfort her as gentle sobs escaped her.
A sharp knock shattered the moment. Everyone froze staring at the door. Cellen was on his feet in an instant, muttering a curse as he darted to the wardrobe and squeezed himself inside with surprising grace for someone so tall. Nyla cast Thalia a panicked look before crossing the room and slowly opening the door. Standing in the hallway was Priestess Miryanne. Her expression was cold. Her sharp green eyes flicked past Nyla and landed directly on Thalia, and something in them twisted, an expression of thinly veiled disgust that made Thalia's stomach sink.
“The High Priestess has requested your presence,” Miryanne said, her tone clipped and formal. “Immediately.”
Thalia stood on shaky legs, and quickly wiped her cheeks, every inch of her prickling with dread.
“Now?” she asked, already knowing the answer.
Miryenne's mouth twisted slightly, sarcasm dripping into her voice. “Yes,now. Is that not what the word immediately means.”
Behind her, Cellen creaked inside the wardrobe.
Nyla stood taller, chin lifting, trying to appear calm. “Of course,” she said smoothly. “Thalia was just resting. We’ll walk with her—”
“No,” Miryanne interrupted with a tight unfriendly smile. “The High Priestess asked for her.Onlyher.”
Thalia's heart beat faster. Every nerve in her body buzzed with unease. There was something about the way Miryanne was looking at her… like she already knew exactly what was about to happen. She was enjoying this far too much. Thalia swallowed hard, gave a subtle nod to her friends, and stepped toward the door. Nyla reached out, brushing her fingers against Thalia’s wrist in a brief, grounding touch.We’re here,that touch said. Thalia squared her shoulders. “Lead the way.”
Chapter 30
The door to her dormitory clicked shut behind her like a judgment passed. Miryanne walked ahead in rigid silence, her spine as straight as a rod, her steps echoing crisply along the polished stone corridor. Thalia followed, her feet heavy with dread, heart pounding loud enough to drown out her thoughts. Everyone had heard. Of course they had. Her argument with Vaelith had played out in the middle of the corridor, too public, too heated to be dismissed as anything but a scandal. Now, the consequences followed her like a second shadow.
The whispers started almost immediately. A pair of junior priestesses stopped talking altogether when they spotted her coming. One quickly looked away; the other didn't. Her eyes narrowed with barely veiled curiosity before she leaned in to murmur something to her friend, who gasped. Thalia kept walking. Two more acolytes turned the corner up ahead, their pace slowing when they noticed her. One of them, she couldn’t tell who snorted softly, but whether it was amusement or disdain, she couldn’t tell. Her cheeks flamed anyway. They passed beneath one of the temple’s archways, the stained-glass windows casting slanting light in jewelled blues and golds acrossthe floor. It should’ve been calming, this place had once felt sacred, like sanctuary. But now it felt like a cage in a circus, and she was the star attraction. Miryanne’s silence cut like glass. Not a single word had passed between them since she’d shown up at the dormitory door. She hadn’t needed to speak. The curl of her lip, the raised eyebrow, the flash of something almost like pity, but laced with disdain, had said everything. Thalia burned with a mess of shame and anger. The weight of the gazes around her, of the whispers and the sidelong looks, pressed in like a vice. She wrapped her arms around herself as they rounded another corridor, her stomach twisting. Her argument with Vaelith played again and again in her mind, the flash of molten gold in his eyes, the way he had grabbed her. The blinding light inside her, threatening to lash out again. She shivered. She should have ran when she seen him, she was a fool to try to bait him into loosing control, then almost loose control herself.
The walk ended at the thick, carved door to the High Priestess’s office. Miryanne finally turned to face her, cool detachment in her eyes.
“She’s expecting you,” she said simply, before stepping aside to let Thalia through.
Thalia straightened her shoulders, pushed down the tremble in her hands, and forced herself to nod.
You’ve going to be okay. You’ve done nothing wrong she tried to reassure herself.
But as she reached for the door handle, her heart pounded so violently it drowned out any last part of her that believed it.
The heavy door clicked shut behind her, muffling whispers and closing her off from the prying eyes and stares.The High Priestess’s office was exactly as Thalia expected it to be, warmly lit, orderly, lined with tomes and scrolls that gave off the faint scent of ancient parchment and sandalwood. Despite the warmth Thalia found the space felt cold, condemning. High Priestess Elara sat behind her carved desk, her expression blank, though the tightness around her mouth spoke volumes. She gestured gracefully to the seat across from her.
“Please, sit.”
Thalia obeyed, her legs stiff, her heart already trying to escape her chest. She folded her hands tightly in her lap to keep them from trembling. Elara exhaled softly, folding her own hands before her on the desk. Her voice was calm, but the words carried weight.
“I trust you know why you’ve been summoned.”
Thalia’s mouth was dry. “I…” She swallowed. “I think so.”
