I’m escorted down a vast hallway of roughly hewn stone, gray like the robes from my nightmares.
Every step is coddled by a clanking cage of synchronized guards, each adorned in a glinting shell of golden armor. I doubt there’s much that could penetrate the wall of metal and brawn surrounding me from all angles. Seems a bit of an overkill since the hall is empty aside from us—the majority of the palace’s servants celebrating in the streets with the people of Parith, shooting their pretty light show from the esplanade, getting drunk and high and singing their merry tunes.
The muffled sound of a thudding drum continues to call us forward, strengthening with every step I take, beating in rhythm with my languid heart. I know I should be nervous. That somewhere deep below the layers of shiny defense I’ve stacked inside myself, I’m just a small, frightened girl who wants to curl up beneath the bed and hide.
But fear is a luxury I can no longer afford—not for myself.
I slather more layers upon the crystal dome that’s keeping me tame. Keeping me from thinking too much.
Feeling too much.
We reach the end of the hall, and the front guards peel away, revealing a pair of large granite doors flanked by two robed Shulák who dip their heads and bow.
I cringe inwardly. There’s not one single part of me that wants their respect, and if I wasn’t so busy stuffing everything down, I’d probably say as much.
I smooth another layer of light upon my rumbling dome.
The doors are pulled wide, releasing a roll of thick, white smoke that spills across the floor, cloying around my ankles like insipid vines riddled with iridescent sparkles. I frown, crouching. Wafting some up against my face to smell it.
“Orlaith,” Kolden hisses, reaching out as if to grab my wrist and drag me away, before his gaze darts to the other guards. He clears his throat, resuming his position while the breath tingles down my throat, all the way to the bottom of my lungs.
This warm, gooey feeling unfurls within me.
Strange.
I look at the smoke again, so caught up in the glimmery, seductive swirl that the next volley of drumbeats has my stare snapping up.
I suck a sharp breath.
The massive square chamber ahead … It’sodd.
Flaming wall sconces are bolted to the lofty walls containing an ocean of heavy smoke stretched before us, freckled with specks of color that catch on the orange firelight spilling across the expanse. Every now and then there’s a riot of undulating motion that makes the smoke tide, revealing a flash of flesh or a whip of honey-colored hair.
The thick musk of sweat, spice, and sex shoves me full of seedy promises with every hoarse inhale. And thesounds—the deep, desperate grunts and high-pitched cries of passion … They settle inside me like a flush of tepid blooms unfurling from their coiled constraints.
It reminds me of a forest nymph’s lair, except all the action is caught beneath that sea of smoke. I doubt they can even see what they’re doing. Who they’re touching.
Round, flat rocks sit just above the surface of the heavy smog like stepping stones, dotting a path through the middle to a pair of stone doors bracketed by two more Shulák.
My curiosity peaks as the spilling atmosphere tangles with my hair and licks shivers across my skin. Kisses a line down the ladder of my spine. It tweaks my nipples and makes my body feel warm. Tingly.
A little more …free.
“What is this place?” My voice sounds funny. Sultry, even.
I’m not sure why.
One of the Shulák lifts a cloth to his mouth, then follows a swooping trail of steps down into the smoke and disappears from sight, the other turning his attention to me. “The Pit of Impurity. The Impurists are doing the act for which they were branded. Ten have been chosen at random to redeem their soiled souls by becoming a Vessel of the Gods. The utmost privilege.”
“Oh.”
That makes no sense.
Kolden nudges my foot with his boot, and I look at him—a pillar of fortitude staked at my side.
Don’t breathe more,he mouths.
I frown.
