Page 82 of House of Dusk
Or should she flee Stara Bron entirely? Where would she go? She had no allies.
She could think of only one person who might help. Who might know how to enter the realm of the Serpent. Nilos. If she could find him. If he even still lived, with Prince Ichos hunting him.
“It’s food. Nothing more.” Someone was speaking in the corridor. A mellow, gentle voice, but with a core of iron that Sephre recognized. “Agia Beroe made it clear that Sister Sephre is to be treated with compassion and respect,” said Brother Dolon. “Now step aside, please.”
Some grumbling. Then the creak of the door. A shadow, cutting the brighter light that spilled in. Sephre hesitated, measuring the distance to the door, taking note of the soldier just outside, a spear ready in his hand. No. Better to learn what she could from Dolon first. Maybe Beroe had reconsidered. Or, even better, maybe the blue flame had rejected her. Only a full agia could grant the Embrace. It would at least give Sephre a bit more time.
Also, she was ravenous. And the platter in Dolon’s hands was heaped with rounds of bread, a bowl of oily, herb-flecked cheese, boiled eggs, and even one of Sister Obelia’s apricot pastries. Memory gripped her throat in a vise, and she blinked hard. Obelia was gone. Murdered by the skotoi.
The door swung closed. Dolon sat beside her on the cot, his brown eyes soft, their golden spark muted. Grief and pain carved his normally jolly features, but at least he looked uninjured, save for a few scrapes and bruises.
“Who else?” Sephre asked. “Aside from Obelia and Halimede.”
“Jovan and Actia,” said Dolon, gravely. “And...Timeus.”
“No,” she swung the word like a sword, driving back the possibility. “Timeus isn’t dead. They took him to lure me. I can still save him.”
Dolon pressed his lips together, not arguing, but not agreeing either. He nodded to the tray of food. “You should eat. Have you slept?”
She gave a hollow laugh. “Have you?” But she tore a bit of bread, scooped some of the cheese, and forced herself to eat. The pastry sat untouched.
Dolon watched her. She swallowed her mouthful. “You’re not afraid to sit here with me? With this?” She turned her right arm, brandishing the mark.
“You’re my sister,” said Dolon, simply. “The flame hasn’t abandoned you. Neither will I.” He hesitated then, glancing toward the door. When he spoke again, his voice was softer. “It’s not right. The Embrace isn’t meant to be forced.”
Sephre frowned, thinking of the gray-knotted volumes in the archives.
“Even when it’s a punishment,” Dolon went on. “I...looked into it. I wanted to understand. And there’s always a choice. Not a good one, perhaps, but a choice. The Embrace or death. The Embrace or twenty years of hard labor. I still don’t knowwhyI made the choice. But I know it was my decision. And it should be yours.”
She held his open brown gaze. “I don’t want it, Dolon. Not anymore. I need to find a way into the labyrinth. I need to find Timeus and bring him back. And I can’t do that if they burn away my memories.” A breath, a brief plea to the Fates. “Will you help me?”
Dolon looked away, and her heart cracked. But it wasn’t a rejection. He was thinking. He always tilted his head like that when he was deep in thought, dredging up some reference, or the name of an obscure scroll. “Why are you so certain he’s in the labyrinth?”
“The skotos took him there. From the Hall of Doors. It opened some sort of...magical gateway?” It sounded ridiculous even to Sephre, who had seen it with her own eyes. The portal had closed before the others arrived. He had only her word for it.
“Truly?” Dolon sounded delighted at the idea that a door to the underworld could pop open inside the temple at the whim of a demon. “Fascinating! It suggests the damage might not be as severe as we thought. Or that there was some other reason the paths were disabled.”
“The paths?” Sephre prompted, before he could wander off into even more obscure academic musings.
“Connections binding the four great temples. Stara Bron, Stara Vex, Stara Mhyr and Stara Sidea. There’s evidence that prior to the cataclysm, there was considerably more communication among the four orders. Imagine it!” His expression lightened. “A dustspinner from Stara Vex borrowing a book from our archives. A balewalker, stopping by to take tea.”
“It didn’t look like a temple. More like a cave, and a pool, or maybe a river?”
“It must have been Stara Sidea,” mused Dolon. “Just as Stara Bron was built to defend the Holy Flame, the temple of the balewalkers supposedly guards the mortal shores of the Lyrikon, the river that carries the Serpent’s power. Still, I’m surprised you saw anything. According to all the contemporary accounts, the House of Dusk was destroyed utterly during the cataclysm. Of course, some say the Ember King slew them all and toppled their temple, and others claim it collapsed in one of the earth-rendings, and still others say the balewalkers all perished with the god they had bound themselves to.” Dolon shook his head regretfully. “A shame. They were our allies, once. Our mirror order, patrolling the labyrinth itself to ensure that no evil escaped.”
The details slid through Sephre’s mind, but she seized on just one. “Can we open the door? Can I follow them?”
“I’ve no idea,” said Dolon. He gave her a wan smile. “I’m afraid there’s no manual in the archives on opening portals to the underworld. And there are...other difficulties.” He glanced significantly toward the door.
Sephre ground her teeth. She could risk it. Knock down the two soldiers, if she was lucky. Run for the Hall of Doors. But with no way to open the portal, she’d likely just get trapped there. There must be another way. “Do you know where Stara Sidea is?”
“No.” Dolon shook his head regretfully.
Sephre straightened her shoulders. “That’s fine. I think I know someone who does.” So long as she could find him before Ichos did. Or hope that he found her, as he’d threatened. But either way, she had to leave Stara Bron. And for that, she was going to need help.
“Tell me what you need,” said Dolon, so simply and earnestly that Sephre’s eyes prickled. “You’re not alone,” he went on. “You still have siblings here. Not just me. Abas. Vasil. Even Beroe, in her own way.”
Sephre snorted, swallowing hard to clear the lump from her throat. “Right. Except that her own way involves burning away my memories to save my soul. But...thank you.” She reached out, gripping Dolon’s hand. It could work. If Dolon could distract the soldiers, she might be able to slip out, reach the stables. Be gone before they knew it.
