Page 157 of The Cerulean Sister
The amount of blood around her and the dried remnants on Leema's hands makes it obvious Crixa has been here, like this, long before my arrival. Too weak to call for help and losing blood at a rate that quickly drained her ability to defend herself.
Crixa underestimated how far Leema would go to protect herself and her child. The so-called most powerful priestess in Cosima let herself be caught off guard, so much so that she is too weak to wield her gifts.
I can hear her muttering to Calliape, clinging and desperately trying to convince her she did not mean to, that it was a mistake, how she panicked.
"Ferren." Crixa's weak voice silences the room.
I step on the streaky marks where she dragged herself away and crouch next to her, her eyes still shut but her head turned slightly, sensing my nearness.
"Heal your highest." Her whisper is strained.
The only time I was able to accomplish such a thing was unknowingly and only to myself. I move the frail hand that holds her wound, wanting to see it closer. "I cannot."
With the last of her strength, her eyes crack open, and she wraps her bony fingers around mine and presses my palm to the leaking spot on her abdomen. "I know of . . . all your gifts . . . Lord Hollis spoke of how difficult they were to hold . . . onto. You will heal me."
She pulls me closer to her until the curve of my wrist digs into her thinly padded stomach. Even while she bleeds out onto the tiles, she demands my obedience.
"Cosima will fall without a highest." Her eyes look so depleted, like there is no shine or life there now, and I know she is only hanging on by a single thread.
I shake my head, denying her again. "I will not."
"Your sister will hang if I die, divine vessel or not. As will you," Crixa wheezes.
I stand, removing my palm, and the wound instantly starts to ooze again, but Crixa does not cover it, her hand resting limply in her lap.
"I cannot let you harm High Priestess Ferren or her sister," Selene says behind me.
Crixa's eyes widen at the unexpected announcement. She leans around my body to see its source. "High Priestess Selene? I did not think I would see you again . . . Your hair’s gone grey." Crixa coughs.
"I have prayed to never see you again."
"So many friends my Ferren has made." Crixa glances over at Calliape and then her head sinks back into the cushion of the lounge, nodding in a small understanding movement.
She may know I have brought them here, even that I am taking Leema out, but not that I have the truth of what happens in this temple and her participation.
"You came back to me to atone," she tries another means of manipulation. "You have finally risen in the ranks of your temple. Do not squander it away. Heal. Me. And all can be forgiven."
"Ferren, I am so sorry." Leema walks on shaky steps, holding onto Calliape for support.
Crixa's skilled manipulation is working its way into her, sinking its claws in and making my sister feel like this single deed has ruined the one thing I have always wanted: ascension and respect from my temple.
"No, Leema, you have done nothing to me. Do not listen to her; this woman does not know my intentions anymore."
Leema clutches her stomach protectively, her confused yet assured expression her only reply.
I watch Crixa as I continue, "They do terrible things here; you felt it. I am sorry I have not gained your trust, but I would have never let you give birth in this temple."
"The highest and the elders of this temple have been sacrificing mothers to make more divine children," Selene says flatly, staring at Crixa with such contempt, I think her gifts will spill forth.
Crixa faintly huffs as if amused. "Blasphemy."
"It's true. I have seen it," I say to Leema.
"Admit to these women what you have done, how many mothers you have murdered," Selene spits the demand at Crixa, knowing it's unlikely to be met.
Leema is almost as pale as Crixa as she sits on a near sofa, still clutching her belly, her pupils blow out like she is panicking internally. The sight of the fear written all over her makes my jaw clench so hard my teeth could crack.
I squat next to Crixa, firmly pressing my hand to her wound and staring into my highest's fading eyes.
