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Mordekai dropped down, balancing on a knee as he poked the side of Heva’s neck with two fingers like he perhaps knew what he was doing, and Geovani’s hand slid off her face. She watched, blinking her pale lashes as Mordekai then leaned down with his ear tilted toward Heva’s mouth.

“What are you listening for?” Geovani rose from her chair and inched closer, eyeing the priest, his thoughtful expression, the way his focused attention darted to Heva’s stomach where dried blood had soaked through her navy army leathers. He gently pressed on her ribs, then on her stomach around the wound.

“She’s still breathing. But she needs some ribs reset and a stitch, and I’m not sure I can do that on a woman,” he said, cheeks flushing just a smidgen, and Geovani stopped walking at the side of the sheet.

“Mordekai Cahana,” she said, and his head snapped up in surprise at her tone. She pointed at him with a crooked finger. “You are not only going to stitch up this woman, you are going to report her condition to me every hour. Do you understand, Priest?” A flutter moved across her heart that she did not realize she was allowed to feel. Mordekai’s face turned red now. “When did you study medicine?” she demanded, then shook her head—because, of course, it didn’t matter. The God Original was orchestrating things again, and Geovani wanted to smack herself upside the head for doubting. “Just save her.”

But Mordekai paled and leaned away from Heva, raising both hands in the air. “I don’t think I can save her. She’s going to die. Any minute, frankly.”

The gusto in Geovani’s chest simmered down, her shoulders dropping. “Well—try.” She turned away, her old throat constricting as she headed for the hallway to her room, leaving Heva in the hands of a young, rebellious priest.

Hours turned into a day, then two. Geovani tried not to spy, but she found herself standing outside Heva’s room which she realized she had, coincidentally, given to two people at the same time. Heva was on the bed, motionless and pale as someone who’d already passed on to the heavens, and Mordekai had tossed a blanket on the floor on the opposite side of the room. Light snores drifted up from the priest where he laid upon it, clutching a vial and a small bag of medicinal herbs in his hands like he’d accidentally fallen asleep that way. The situation might have been funny on any other day, but not as Heva lay there like that. Geovani decided not to wake Mordekai to get an update. Even though Heva wore a white maidens’ dress now, even though her side had been cleaned and stitched and Mordekai had been feeding her medicines, the last few reports he’d brought had been dismal.

Through the bedroom window, Geovani’s gaze settled on a person standing across the road, a dark navy cloak hiding her features. A shadow crawled over the street, and Geovani slipped into the room quietly, nudging the curtain aside and looking up to find a great black torrent of cloud spinning above. Petals and leaves swished by the window with the rising wind, and a shiver raced up to Geovani’s elbows. She huffed a quiet, dull laugh. Adassah had brought the cloud with her.

She wandered out of the room and down the hall on silent footsteps, making her way through the sanctuary and flinging wide the front door just in time to reach out and yank Adassah inside as she reached the top stair. “You could be seen, you know. And I have a feeling you’re trying to hide.”

Adassah looked around the temple without pulling off her hood, taking in shelves that hadn’t been dusted, rows of empty pews, and the old paintings adorning the walls she hadn’t seen in quite some time.

“If you’re here to see Heva, I’m afraid I don’t have good news. If you’re here to see your cousin… Well, funny as it is, if I take you to see one, you’ll see the other.”

Adassah glanced at Geovani in question but didn’t ask. So, Geovani headed for the hallway. Adassah followed closely, and when Geovani reached Heva’s room, she nudged the door open a crack further.

It took Adassah a moment to speak. “How is she?” The question came out guarded, like she maybe didn’t actually want to know.

Geovani sighed. Perhaps it was time to admit it aloud, even though her gut twisted at the thought. “I’m afraid to plan a funeral, Adassah. But at this point, I’m realizing your cousin isn’t a real physician. I’m preparing for the worst.”

“Kai studied medical texts with the Priesthood. He took care of me when I was younger. But no, he’s not a physician.” Adassah couldn’t have missed her cousin in the room; Mordekai took up half the floor.

“That B’rei Mira Prince—”

“He killed her,” Adassah whispered. She turned to Geovani. “And I’m going crazy reliving that moment over and over, Geovani. Aren’t you?”

Geovani folded her brittle arms and fiddled with the floral embroidery on her cuff. “If it’s Heva’s time to go, then I will be at peace with it.”

Adassah didn’t reply to that. “I’m going to be gone for a while,” she said instead. She reached into her hood and slid a thin gold chain off her neck. On the end was a small gold flute no bigger than her own hand. “Play this over Heva. If there’s anything left of her mind, she might hear it and find comfort.”

Geovani took the flute, turning it to spy on the details. It was nothing fancy, but she’d seen many unfancy items do quite remarkable things. The wind began to howl, a whistle sounding when it slipped through a narrow gap in the windowsill. “Hiding isn’t the answer, Adassah,” Geovani said, and Adassah’s gaze shot back to her in surprise. “I’m not sure what cranny, cave, or corner of the kingdom you’re running to, but the God Original doesn’t make warriors just to hide them away.”

Kristin passed by at the end of the hall and thankfully didn’t notice Adassah there. What a circus this would become if the priestesses discovered their Gold Maiden had followed them back to the First Temple.

“The God Original doesn’t need me in order to guard the border. If he wills it, the border will stand by divine means. I come from nothing, Geovani, and El used me anyway. So he can use someone else.”

“Careful, Adassah. El has also given us free will. And callings aren’t to be taken lightly.” When Adassah didn’t reply, Geovani released a long breath and eyed the priest in the bedroom instead. “Your cousin misses you. But I’m sure you know that.” A twig hit the window followed by grass and the head of a flower, creating tiny tings. “Are you going to wake him?”

Adassah took her time responding. “I’m not sure I can face him.” Her breath sounded strained when she huffed, like her throat had been scratched or she’d been screaming. “But I’ll send word to him to meet me soon.” She took one last look at Heva on the bed, and a dull, pathetic chuckle sounded from beneath her hood. “She doesn’t look like herself in a dress.”

Geovani didn’t stop Adassah as she turned to go. “Goodbye, Adassah.” The words rang down the hall with an empty spark. The bobbing of Adassah’s hood was the only indication she’d heard—a returned goodbye without words. As a goodbye like this perhaps should be. Because a strange, sinking feeling twisted in Geovani’s gut that Adassah’s departure this time was different.

It was confirmed four days later when Geovani heard whispers from her connections that a white-fleshed, ghostly monster was spotted in the Mother City. Such a thing didn’t make it into the news, was not spoken about by the heralds, but Geovani saw the shift in the tides, the wind changing directions, the stormy cloud that settled itself over the palace as if it had come to stay.

Geovani fitted herself in her emerald green hood and went to the streets to discover exactly what was going on. Panic stirred among the people, whispers of an invasion that was quietly taking place. Geovani found herself outside the palace, watching as two dozen of the horrid creatures walked right through the palace gate and into the gardens. She recognized them from the day they’d entered the palace, slaughtered most of the Intelligentsia, and stolen the young King. The Folke stumbled back, too terrified to do anything but cower and part for them to pass.

Geovani took a deep breath filled with the ashy taste of the storm brewing in the heavens. “I am not young anymore, El. But if you wish for me to go in there and fight these creatures, I will.” Her voice sounded more aged than normal, a testament to her words.

“Someone will, but it won’t be you.”

Geovani crossed her arms and tapped a finger against her tingling elbow. “Adassah?” she guessed.