“Is that Princess Elspeth?”
Sainte dragged me into the warm sanctuary, a stark contrast to the biting chill outside. The transition from freezing winds to the stifling heat inside was like stepping from winter’s grasp into a cozy hearth. Priests scurried around us, their movements a blur in the rush. Two of them hurried to shut the door, the icy draft vanishing as it closed with a thud.
The sudden warmth pricked my skin, thawing the chill that had seeped into my bones. As I stood there, my breath steaming in the heated air, two priests approached, removing my cloak with practiced hands.
Amidst the flurry of activity, a hunched figure caught my eye. She limped toward us, her steps heavy with the weight of years, her cane tapping out a steady rhythm on the stone floor.
“Princess.”
My jaw trembled with my shiver as I dipped my chin in greeting. “Priestess Edne.”
Sainte discarded his cloak, handing it to a priest before shaking his head like a dog, scattering water and snow. A chuckle escaped me as I watched the droplets fly, and I raked my fingers through my own damp, freezing hair.
A twinkle sparked in her eyes. “She told me you would come, though I did not expect you to brave a Howl.”
“I’m pressed for time.” I offered a casual shrug. My red, aching hands burned with cold, and I cupped them over my mouth, seeking warmth from my breath.
“A fortnight is enough time to wait out a Howl, dear.” She smirked with a shake of her head. “Come, she has told me what to do.”
I glanced at Sainte, uneasy with her belief in prophetic dreams. These people placed immense faith in intangible, unproven things. But then, my reasons for being here were unclear. Perhaps Leihim sent word?
That was a plausible explanation.
My Valahant arched a brow at my doubtful expression and motioned for me to follow Edne. She hobbled off, and a young girl left the comfort of the roaring hearth, where our cloaks dried, to assist her. It relieved me to see she had support this time.
Conversations buzzed through the space as people resumed their tasks, barely casting us a second glance. We trailed Edne down the stairs. The girl clutched her arm with a worried frown, underscoring the strain of navigating the steep, dark stairwell. When we reached level ground, the breath I held in my chest finally loosed. If the old priestess fell now, at least the risk would be minimal.
The cavern felt desolate, with only our small group breaking the stillness. Priests didn’t gather here, nor did children scurry about. Silence hung in the air, the muted noises from the upper level barely audible.
The girl hastened to retrieve white clothes from a shelf. I stifled a groan in my throat as Edne hobbled off to grab a capped bottle and cup, then rushed to her side to steady her, preventing her cane from slipping.
She smiled up at me, eyes twinkling as she uncorked the top. “You seek answers.”
“I seek solutions,” I corrected.
She chuckled, clearly amused by my response. “The gods do not always act on our behalf.”
“And the God Stones do?”
“They are but an answer…” she murmured, her focus intent as her trembling hands lifted the bottle to the cup, tipping it with care.
Dread filled me as a luminescent blue liquid spilled out. When it reached the brim, Edne secured the cork and flashed me a wide, toothless grin.
“Tell me that’s for you,” I whined, lip curled.
“Oh no, dear.”
“My insides will light up like the northern sky.”
“You are not ready to seek the divine without help. This prepares your mind and body.”
I squinted at the old woman, recalling the hallucinogenic mushrooms sold in the slums.
Sure, I would see the gods.
With a glance at Sainte for assurance, I watched as he removed his armor, handing it to the little girl, who placed it in a neat stack on the shelf. He tugged his tunic loose and drew it over his head, revealing his scars.
After an airy sigh, I peered into the glowing cup, then at Edne’s expectant grin, and tossed the liquid back, downing it in one long gulp. My features pulled into a grimace. It had no flavor, but the thick consistency made my mind balk as it slid down my throat. It was just wrong.
