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“Which way?” I hiss to Zephyr.
He darts right and I follow, keeping my pace brisk, but not too quick that it’ll raise suspicion. On the next corner, we pass two priestesses but they’re too busy in their conversations to notice us. Like Yadira, their eyes are golden and they’re wrapped in white silk. The hems are decorated by an ornate gold trim and matching circlets halo their heads. Sandals peek out from beneath their flowing skirts and the leather bands look like little cages around their toes.
As we head deeper into the temple’s complex, the corridors become busier. We pass maids, as well as priestesses. At least I think they’re maids. They wear simple muslin dresses, and their brows are without circlets. Their eyes also aren’t golden, showing their lack of light magic, and they brush the white floors with their brooms. I suppose they could also be priestesses in training.
Some smile at me, and I return the gesture before hurrying after Zephyr. With how busy this part of the temple is, I don’t know how we’ll break into the dungeons and free Natharius. Hopefully we’ll find the dungeons on the other end of the temple, where there will be few priestesses around.
“Oh, there you are!”
I glance back to see Yadira hurrying toward me.
I groan inwardly. It seems we’ll have to wait for another opportunity to search the temple. Maybe it’ll be better to search later tonight when most of the priestesses are asleep.
“Zephyr!” I hiss and hold my arm out to him. He scrambles onto my shoulder.
I smile as brightly as I can at the priestess, hoping my expression won’t betray my nerves.
“I was about to head over to your room and check up on you,” Yadira says.
“I slept for a bit after you left, but I’m feeling much better now. Someone put my robes at the end of the bed for me. Were you the one who cleaned them?”
Yadira shakes her head. “We gave your robes to some of the initiates to practice on.” She gestures to a few of the younger priestesses passing us, and they look barely old enough to be in their teens. Their eyes are golden, but they don’t shine as brightly as Yadira’s and the other more experienced priestesses.
“Oh, well thank you. They did a marvelous job. I didn’t realize you’re able to heal clothes, as well as people.”
“Mending clothes requires less strength, and the techniques aren’t dissimilar. We also send our younger priestesses out into the city to help the poor repair their clothes, as well as minor ailments.”
“I see,” I say, and then my stomach growls. Though it’s embarrassingly loud, at least I don’t have to tell Yadira my excuse as to why I’m wandering through the temple instead of staying in bed.
She laughs. “You must be hungry. We’ll all be eating in the hall soon, and the High Priestess will be there, too. She wishes to talk to you.”
“She does?”
Yadira nods but doesn’t elaborate. I frown as she leads me through the temple. What does the High Priestess want to talk to me about? Yadira said the High Priestess was the one who healed me and is trying to find a way to cure Arluin’s tracking spell, so maybe she wants to discuss that. Or maybe she wants to question me about Natharius.
We soon reach the tall doors leading to the hall. The walls slope into a high, arched ceiling, and long wooden tables run either side of the room, filled by dozens of priestesses. At the end lies a single table on a dais. The priestess sitting there wears a circlet far grander than the others, and her robes are so heavily decorated by golden thread, it’s as if she’s wearing a tapestry.
Yadira bows her head when we arrive at her table. I decide it’s best to do the same. “High Priestess,” she says, gesturing to me, “here’s the mage you healed.”
The High Priestess scans over me. She’s a tall, lithe woman with tiny creases marking her brow and beneath her eyes. When her observation is complete, her lips draw out into a smile, and her golden eyes radiate with warmth. They shine brighter than any other priestess I’ve seen so far. She must have spent decades practicing light magic.
“You’re finally awake,” the High Priestess says. Her voice carries through the hall and all the priestesses fall silent.
I dip my head. “It is only thanks to your kindness that I am.”
Her smile grows. “It is through the Mother’s Light that I healed you. You owe Her your thanks.”
I’m not sure how to respond to that, and whether I ought to drop to my knees and offer the Mother Goddess a prayer of gratitude. In the end, I opt to keep my head lowered and hope it appears respectful enough.
“What is your name, mage?” the High Priestess asks.
“Reyna.”
Should I tell her exactly who I am, the Grandmage’s daughter? Despite what Natharius claimed, the priestesses seem gentle and healed me without any request of payment. Light and dark magic are natural enemies, so maybe the priestesses would help me if I explain I’m hunting a cult of necromancers. But for that same reason, I must be careful to avoid them discovering my association with Natharius.
If the High Priestess notices my inner debate, she doesn’t comment on it. “It is a pleasure to meet you, Reyna. I am High Priestess Ahelin, and I welcome you to Esterra City.” She gestures to the long table on our left. “Do sit. You must be hungry.”
Yadira guides me to my seat and the priestesses slide down the bench to make room for us. Zephyr crawls off my shoulder and sits between Yadira and me.
