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“The highpriestess with the power of the Temple can.” I looked at my great-grandmother. “And we need to ensure people stay away from the food and celebrations.”
“The palace is buying up anything they can find,” Mariska interjected with surprising strength. “It’ll be safe.”
“Von Lemerch is behind it all. What makes you think a councilwoman would not have the contacts to get to whatever is stored in the royal warehouses?” Lumi asked derisively. “And people are starving, expecting a feast. They’ll not stay away from the food, even if it is not delivered to the night market. Whoever the king left to guard it will not be enough.”
“Then we need to supply them with an option.” I turned to Lana, Nataliya, and Popova. “You have money and I’m sure the merchants and smugglers have kept back something to sell themselves. Supply the barges and drink halls and homes, and people will stay away from the festival. Especially, if we pay for drinks to flow.”
Lana shook her head. “My father already sank too much money into this.”
“And this is your only chance to make it back,” I argued. “She swore to reward my sister in gold as she ordered me to play the princess. Still, I heard her plot our murder myself. You’ll all be washed away in the approaching storm.”
Tal’s music rose to a pitch inside me.
It was ready to boil over.
Implode.
“Say I have some contacts among the clans who refuse to deal with the royals,” Nataliya said. “Who’ll repay the loans? We’re not feeding the city at our own cost. Prices will be higher than ever as allsides have been scrambling for months. Each barge only kept what it could, each merchant enough to get themselves through the season.”
“The Crown will pay.”
Mariska stood between Popova and Morovara, her red robe reminding me of the bleeding skeleton painted on walls and trees.
“You have such authority?” Lana asked, avarice lighting her eyes. Suddenly she was all her father’s daughter.
“Dimi will honor it, or my own family will.” She turned to me, eyes fierce. “I trust you now like I did the first day.”
Morovara cleared her throat. “You make a good argument, Great-granddaughter, but why would the Temple risk itself? Most of us are weak… I’m not sure we would win a direct confrontation we have avoided for centuries.”
“But this time you won’t be hidden or alone. When they approach the palace, Popova’s rebels could help you handle the humans, while you focus on the dead. As for why—I was told to ask you why there must be a royal wedding on the Day of the Dead. What do they all want?”
All eyes locked on the high priestess as she pursed her lips. Tension and expectation thick enough for me to grab and shape filled the air. Part of me itched to bend it into trust and belief, something positive bonding these women together. But it would be artificial. Another lie. Magic, like everything else, came with choices. I would listen to the world, not force it into what I thought it should be.
“We’re not getting any younger,” Popova said. “I know you’ve been clamoring at the palace for decades over some historical slight.”
Morovara narrowed her eyes at the other woman. “There’s a secret trust that comes with being the high priestess of the Death Goddess. Betraying them to you is not a small thing. But my great-granddaughter is right, these are desperate times. And perhaps they can also be times of opportunities. Swear secrecy and I’ll reveal the lies Tal’s monarchy are built on.”
Her sharp eyes dug into us one by one and as each swore, I listened to the magic in their words, hearing the truth.
Finally, the eyes landed on me and Lumi.
“I swear,” we said together. “All spoke truth as they believe it.”
“You can tell that?” Nataliya asked with a shrewd look.
I gave a quick nod but focused on Morovara. The last piece of this puzzle was close enough to see the jagged edges—the face of the Goddess in the crypt under the palace. The glass crown on my head. Morovara could tell me what it all meant.
“The dead have come to Tal for as long as we have written records. Few ask why. Today even the average priestess doesn’t learn the truth. For them, it is as it has always been.
“Through the Gate was to the Goddess’s realm, deep under the Women’s Tower, which used to be the Temple’s holiest building, those who were ready passed into her realm. When Herebov took Tal, Ealhswip broke the very balance she had sworn to protect as she returned and took his life. But she did not return alone. We don’t know why the Goddess allowed it, only that it happened, and that the divine ruler did not return the same.”
“She burns cold,” I whispered, recalling Ealhswip’s fiery eyes and the freezing death inside her.
Morovara nodded. “With vengeance they say. To stop the dead overwhelming the living her own daughter, the first high priestess to swear allegiance to the Crown, and one of the greatest sigil crafters ever known, offered to help Herebov’s oldest son, the new king. The records tell of desperate times where each night brought death,so together they did something rash—they blocked the Gate to the Goddess in both directions.”
“And the dead?” Lumi asked.
“They’re trapped.”
