Page 92 of The Cerulean Sister
Then a burst of light flashes so brilliant it illuminates up all the dark spaces the eclipsed sun can not reach, and when the darkness returns my ears pop with such force, I flinch.
The eerie silence is broken by a beam of light that streaks across the courtyard and crashes into a stone wall.
"Come, this way!" Ben calls.
I follow without question, my mind trying to make sense of what is happening as the ringing bells swing so fast the song becomes one long note echoing through the Estate.
An all consuming warning.
The sounds I heard just before the bell were drowned out as soon as it started, and now every bang sounds like a scream, phantom noises coming from all directions.
My hands flex and release on their own as I try to call forth my light that is trapped, imprisoned in Lord Hollis. I grit my teeth and attempt to will what is mine back, but it only slows me down to concentrate so I push forward and stay as close as I can to Ben.
We round the corner of the corridor with the statue and altar I just turned over this morning. The single pew is turned over, and candles are scattered on the floor, some still lit and burning from the side.
I step into the space and see a high priestess holding her arm straight out, brow furrowed and outraged.
She struggles to use her gifts to hold a man against the wall across from her. His boots barely touch the floor as he sputters under the unseen restriction around his neck.
Ben does not hesitate to walk over to where he is being held and cut him down.
The body falls lifelessly, and the high priestess takes a gulping breath like she had been holding him in place for a while but was not strong enough to strangle him completely.
His clothes are strange and not of any fabric I have seen in the Estate.
"Are we under attack, High Priestess?" Ben asks her.
"They started removing their robes and began . . . That one killed an elder priestess I was with." She hunches forward to collect more air.
"Who is he?" I ask, too shocked to articulate a better question.
"A soldier of First Son?" Ben looks to her for confirmation.
"We would have heard the bell before they started attacking us. There was no sky ship."
No ship? But we saw a light streak across the courtyard as if it came from a weapon of First Son.
Crixa would have alerted us if there was a ship coming close to the ward and the Viathans stationed in the birthlands would have known if a ship was coming close to the Estate. They would have intervened.
"You said he removed his robe? We saw Estate workers' clothes on the floor in the wing we came from, like they had been shed as the person walked," I reason.
The high priestess looks between Ben and me, but none of us have an answer or even a theory. "We should get to the temple," she says.
We turn to leave, but two more men stand in the hall, blocking our way, crouched and ready to attack.
The larger one launches himself at Ben with a small dagger, wielding it with nimble precision.
I step back, letting the high priestess engage the other.
She outreaches her arm with such force, I can hear her bones crack with her rage. A guttural sound comes from her as she lifts him off the ground, trying to choke him.
The man's eyes bulge, his finger clawing at an invisible grip on his throat.
My eyes sting when I realize that I could help her if only my gifts were not stolen from me.
Her body shakes as she holds the man and uses her gifts in a way she likely never has. She screams so loud, the pitch drowns out even the bell tower.
Then his hands go lax and fall to the side in the same moment she crashes against the wall, panting and exhausted.
