Page 103 of Ashen Wings

Instead, I count the large floor-to-ceiling murals that line each of the interior walls. One is a decadently detailed map of the faction, another a simple landscape of the eastern sea. Their beauty is beyond words, and yet, somehow muted by the weight of our apprehension.

“We have a few questions that require the utmost of discretion, I’m afraid,” Jace says, stitching his fingers together. The priestess nods and smooths her robes.

“This conversation must stay between us,” Isra says. I glance between the three of them, and thank the gods, Jace’s attention doesn’t linger on me.

“A friend of Roe Mercora is a friend to me. You have my word,” she replies.

Jace bites his lip before speaking, as if he’s second guessing our decision to be forthright. “Are there any Sovereign refugees in your ministry?”

The priestess’s eyes light up before landing on me. “Not that I’m aware of, unfortunately. Why do you ask? Are you looking for Astora’s servants?”

“Yes.” Jace looks to me. “We’re looking for any living descendants of Nova’s family. She was separated from them during the war and we heard a whisper that there might be Sovereign survivors amongst your ranks.”

I feign a solemn expression and focus my attention on the priestess. Her brow furrows and she places a hand on mine. It takes everything to keep still. Playing a role to get information isn’t new, but this feels different—wrong. My chest tightens.

This nameless priestess reminds me so much of Thaye, of the life I left behind in Storm. Her kindness is without end, her trust even more infinite. We’re three strangers seated before her, asking a question that could result in execution, and yet she answers as if we’d merely asked about the weather.

“A few years before the war started there was talk of a Sovereign babe joining us, but if I’m remembering correctly, that never came to fruition.” She inspects her clean cut nails.

“Why not? Do you know what happened to the babe?” Jace asks.

“Something about faction politics. House Mercora refused to allow Astora’s servants over their borders without a trade. The servants refused their terms and kept the babe in Sovereign.”

Blood drains from my face. The Ceti descendant never crossed the border. We’ve come all this way for nothing.

“Do you happen to know what their terms were?”

The aging priestess scratches her chin, cautiously watching my every movement. “I do, actually. Mercora wanted an artifact the servants kept in their temple, a piece of jewelry I believe with an opal dragonstone.”

Jace straightens in his seat and the air evades the room. “Was it a circlet?”

“Yes! I couldn’t place it, but it was an ancient relic from House Ceti. How did you know that?”

Isra mutters a curse and braces his elbows on the table.

“Because up until yesterday that artifact was in House Ashborne’s possession.” Jace’s words are low and threaded with rage as he leans back in his seat. “Fuck…”

“So we came all this way for nothing then? There are no Sovereign survivors amongst you?” I ask.

The priestess offers a sad smile and shakes her head. “I’m sorry I couldn’t be more helpful.”

“No, that’s alright. You’ve given us your time and that’s more than enough,” Jace says, soothing his furrowed brow.

“Unfortunately, I do have to leave you now. Evening prayers start soon, and the dragons need to be fed beforehand. Otherwise they get a little…well, grumpy.” She chuckles.

“Understood.” Isra takes her palm in thanks.

“Please give Roe my best. She must have grown into such a wonderful woman.” If by wonderful she means violent and enraged, then yes. I catch the scoff before it escapes.

With our lead entirely blown, this mission feels hopeless again, useless. We’re back where we started with nothing but questions amongst us. So, when we leave the temple and set out down the chilled street. I let Jace and Isra trudge ahead.

I’ve always been meticulous in my mission planning, but this job breaks all of my habits. We came to Sea on word-of-mouth alone. It was a shot in the dark, so why are my fists still clenched like I’ve lost everything? There was no plan B or alternate lead to follow. This was it, and now, any hope of finding the rider rolls down the sloping street like it’s been severed limb for limb.

Fuck, I should have stayed in Storm, stayed with Yaris. Maybe he’d still be alive if I had. I swallow those thoughts before they can flower.

A flash of silver crosses my periphery and my step falters. I scan the shadows of the alley to my left, but only a dark stillness greets me. Maybe a trick of the light, or simply a glint from the dagger sheathed on my thigh. Regardless, we shouldn’t be out so openly with Ashar and his men scouring the faction.

“Let’s regroup in an hour and figure out our plans. Maybe we go back to Storm and comb through their archives again. I’m sure your friend Thaye would be thrilled to see you, Nova.” Jace pauses at the inn’s entrance.