It seemed the young priestesses had stolen the spare key, and there was nothing in the room with which I could block the door. I cursed myself for not ensuring that Aifé had the key in her possession when I was there this morning, and silently prayed for Ernest to return quickly.

  “We just want to help the saintess, Lady Rosa! It won’t take more than a moment. That’s why you’re here, after all! She needs to get better!”

  As she spoke, the young priestess smiled slightly too wide, and tilted her neck slightly too far to the left. Blood from the cut I’d left on her arm was dripping onto the floor into a puddle that flowed along the tiles in strange coiling paths, like ivy.

  The tall priestess at her side nodded, while tightly gripping the ritual vessel with her fingers that were slightly too long. The vessel was hewn of gleaming obsidian and covered with glittering jewels. I started to understand what had happened here. “Yes, Lady Rosa! If you’ll just stand aside, we can sort all this out. She’ll wake up in no time! The temple has treated saintesses for this condition before, you know. The revered mother has plenty of experience, and we’ve learned a lot from her!”

  I wondered whether there was some reason why Aifé and Ernest had not arrived yet. Perhaps the other priestesses were trying to delay them, or she had some reason for not coming. In that case, though, Ernest would have surely returned by now.

  You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

  The eldest priestess, hunched over slightly too far, strained her arms against her cane and stood up slightly too straight. “You don’t need to worry, young lady! You two will be in safe hands, and once we’re done you can go home safe and sound. She’ll make a quick recovery and be stronger than ever.”

  I cursed myself again for not asking Helian or Frost to tell me more about what happened in the city. I hadn’t wanted to dredge up any unpleasant memories, and I thought the matter had been resolved.

  The overwhelming scent made it hard to breathe, and my body felt sluggish. I gripped my daggers tightly. The crest on my hand tingled but was still not hot. Why was it not responding? Was I misunderstanding something important?

  The brown blood, not clotting, continued to flow across the tiles towards me, not just coiling, but writhing, its shape not unlike the grasping hands of the young priestess that were extended slightly too far.

  Perhaps the priestesses really did want to help? Was it possible that they could help, somehow? Helian was very strong, and the tree was very dead. So even if it was involved somehow, how much harm could it do? But I couldn’t bring myself to take the idea seriously, even if I desperately wanted her to wake up. The temple couldn’t be trusted, least of all this temple, least of all people behaving this way.

  “I see we’re in something of a predicament, Your Highness.”

  A familiar but unfamiliar voice rang out from behind me. Helian was speaking, but Helian was not speaking. I heard her climb out of bed and slowly walk towards me. My blood ran cold.