CHAPTER 18

Not all of the necessities Rielle requested were provided. At first she thought the list had been too long for the young priest to remember, but when further requests for bedding, soap and a change of clothes were ignored she understood that what they considered necessities did not match her own.

They did supply her with rags, water and a bucket that smelled faintly of the leavings of a previous user. She worked out how to keep herself clean and relieve herself without undressing, her back turned to the young guard and the older priest who took the day shift – Sa-Gest did not return. The narrow bench was her bed. Meals were a humble bowl of broth, bread, or stewed grains – probably the same fare priests ate during their times of isolation and prayer. She counted the days by the meals, as she suspected that the cycle of lying awake worrying followed by exhausted sleep she’d fallen into did not match the rising and setting of the sun.

Sa-Elem returned once, with his scribe, to give her paper and chalk to draw the corrupter and to ask a few more questions.

“When did you meet the corrupter?”

“The day Sa-Baro told my family I was visiting Izare,” she told him.

“The day you left them,” he observed, nodding. “Before or after?”

“Before.”

She’d watched him turn to leave, her drawing in his hands, a thousand questions crowding behind her tongue. None she thought he would, or could, answer. But she had to try.

“Can you tell me anything?” she finally blurted out.

He looked back. “A few more days.”

Another two quarterdays passed before he returned. A different priest accompanied him. The way they moved, all efficient and tense, suggested something was about to happen. Her heart began to race with a sickening anticipation.

“It’s time for your examination,” Sa-Elem said, confirming what her instincts had told her. “As always, those who were closest to you will be questioned, but due to your family’s status and co-operation we have agreed to hold it in private.”

The thought of being subjected to scrutiny before a crowd of strangers had made her stomach clench. Gratitude and relief did little to ease the nausea, however. She wanted her story and reasons to be known, and to see her family and Izare again, but the price for that was to face them. To feel their disappointment and anger. But I would pay that price ten times over if it meant seeing Izare again.

Sa-Elem unlocked the door and indicated that she should follow him. Her guard and the other priest walked close behind as they made their way through the passages beneath the temple. She felt all too conscious that she hadn’t run a comb through her hair or changed her clothes in several days, and probably smelled like it. The journey did not take long. Sa-Elem stopped at a door and opened it, then ushered her inside.

Her first impression was that she was in another cell. A simple metal lattice stretching from floor to ceiling caged her into the corner of a large room, shaped and furnished in a way similar to the public hall of a small temple. Rows of wooden seats filled the main space, with an aisle between. In place of windows were rows of oil lamps, and where the priest ordinarily stood to address the gathering a long table and five chairs had been placed.

At the table sat three priests: the head priest of Fyre, Sa-Koml, Sa-Baro and a priest she had never seen before. The rest of the hall was empty. For now.

She hadn’t realised it was possible to feel exposed and trapped at the same time.

“Stay away from the bars and remain silent unless addressed,” Sa-Elem instructed, then closed the door.

She looked at the priests again. Sa-Baro had been watching her, but he looked away as she turned towards them. Sa-Koml’s attention was on the papers before him. The stranger had also been watching her, but he turned away as Sa-Baro murmured something.

As he did, she saw that his face was marked on the left side by a scar, and she shivered as she realised she had seen him before. He’d been with Sa-Elem and Sa-Gest when her abductor had been paraded through and out of the city.

He will be the one taking me away, she guessed. He was the youngest one there, though many years senior to Sa-Gest. She could not help trying to read something of him from his face and manner. Would he be harsh, kind or indifferent towards her? His posture did not hold the tension of the other two, but then it was not a citizen of his city and a former student of his temple being judged. If dealing with tainted was his role he’d be used to attending examinations. She took comfort in his demeanour being neither menacing nor forbidding. Though if he were sympathetic she would feel unworthy of it. Indifference would be easiest to endure.

The sound of an opening door made her heart skip, but it was not the main doors. Sa-Elem and the scribe priest entered from a door at the other corner of the room. They joined the others at the table and Sa-Elem, after speaking quietly, picked up a bell and rang it. All looked towards the far end of the room.

One of the large entry doors opened, admitting three people. Rielle felt her heart sink as her parents and Narmah took in the room, the five priests and the cage. It was hard to see their faces, and by the time they drew near enough for her to see them their expressions were composed. They stopped before the priests. Only Narmah’s gaze shifted towards Rielle, though she kept her head facing the table.

“Ens Lazuli, Ers Lazuli and Ers Gabela,” Sa-Elem began. “You have been summoned here to assist our examination of the circumstances surrounding the tainting of Ais Rielle Lazuli. We are not here to judge her. She has already admitted to the crimes of learning and using magic. Have you all read the transcript of our conversation?”

“Yes,” they replied in unison. The scribe’s pen made a single scratch on the page of his record book.

“Was there any part of it that you believe to be false?”

Rielle’s father glanced at her mother and aunt, who shook their heads.

“No.”

“So, Ers Gabela, you admit to knowing that Rielle could sense Stain from a young age, and that you concealed this fact?”

Narmah bowed her head. “I do.”

“Why did you do so?”

“I … I knew her mother had plans for her to marry well. Her ability would have made that impossible.”

“Not impossible,” Sa-Elem corrected. “Only if it had been publicly known would it have influenced her prospects. That is why we conceal the identity of those who possess the ability.”

Narmah looked up, her eyes wide with surprise and horror. “I didn’t know.”

“Your distrust and ignorance are unfortunate,” he told her, but his tone was mild. “Your fear of society’s prejudices is understandable, and since your family has not sacrificed a son to the temple you do not have the benefit of his guidance. We have discussed this and decided that no malice was intended. The loss of a niece you were fond of is punishment enough.”

Rielle winced. Sacrificing a son to the temple was a glorified way of saying a family member had chosen to become a priest, and since most priests were related to the city’s great families, Sa-Elem had essentially pointed out her family’s lesser status.

“She is leaving Fyre to live with her son.”

Catching her breath, Rielle moved a little closer to the bars. Her mother’s voice had been hard and cold. Narmah’s expression was pinched, and her gaze lowered to the floor. Anger stirred within Rielle. By punishing Narmah, her parents suggested that they blamed her for Rielle’s mistakes. At least she gets to see cousin Ari. Rielle’s heart shrank a little. Who I will never see again. Or my brother. What will they think when they hear—

“Do you have any information to add to this examination?” Sa-Elem asked.

Rielle’s parents exchanged a glance then shook their heads, but Narmah’s chest rose as she took a deep breath.

“We were going to meet with her,” she said. “She wanted to come home. She knew we were willing to consider her choice of husband.”

“I know,” Sa-Elem told her. “Sa-Baro was assisting you,” he reminded her.

She shook her head. “Something must have forced her to do it. Why else would she risk everything?”

A short silence followed, in which Sa-Elem regarded her without speaking, perhaps only so she felt she had been listened to. Then he looked at his fellow priests, who shook their heads.

“That will be all,” he said, turning back.

As her family turned to leave, Rielle’s stomach sank. Narmah paused and looked back at her niece, her expression open and anxious. Then she jerked away. Rielle saw her mother’s hand on Narmah’s arm, guiding and pulling. She watched her family walk away and disappear somewhere beyond the hall’s main doors.

The bell rang again. Rielle watched, holding her breath, but the three who entered next were dye workers. People she had known all her life. People whose children she had played with when she was young. Unlike her family, they stared at her, showing curiosity, disgust and even fear. Sa-Elem asked if they had suspected anything. They replied that they had not.

Her heart beat quickly as she watched them leave. Three more people answered the next ring of the bell. She felt a shock as she recognised them.

As Tareme, Bayla and Famire walked to the front of the hall they stared openly at Rielle, but their expressions were not what she expected. Tareme’s mouth opened in shock as she saw Rielle and Bayla’s eyes widened. Famire wore a haughty smile, but as Rielle stared back at her, the girl’s smirk looked forced and unconvincing.

Sa-Elem’s introduction and questions were the same. Tareme and Bayla responded honestly. Famire agreed that she had never suspected Rielle of having the ability to sense Stain, but said she later came to wonder if she could. When Sa-Elem asked her to elaborate, she looked at the other girls pointedly. The priest sent the twins away.

Once alone, Famire sighed. “I heard that Stain had been found near the courtyard where Aos Saffre lived. I was curious. It had been years since I’d seen any, and I wanted to know if I still could. Of course, it would have been rude not to drop in on my old friend Rielle. As you know, it was while I was there that I sensed the Stain in their house.”

A shot of cold pierced Rielle’s body. She can see Stain! But it was followed by anger. Not at Famire’s admission that she had reported the Stain in Izare’s house. It was the lie that she’d visited them out of social obligation and friendship. She hasn’t told them she was there for a portrait.

Rielle opened her mouth. The need to speak the truth welled up like an irresistible force inside her.

But if I tell them, what will happen to Izare? He would lose the commission. She closed her mouth. I doubt Famire will return for him to finish her portrait anyway. She can’t afford to be seen with someone known to be so close to a tainted, especially if she can see Stain. She drew in a breath to speak then stopped again. But as long as nobody knows about the portrait she won’t dare ask Izare to give back the first half of the commission.

She let out a sigh. Famire’s lie would at least protect Izare. And the truth will do me no good.

Rielle barely heard the rest of Sa-Elem’s questions or Famire’s replies. First Sa-Gest’s threat, then Famire’s true purpose for visiting Izare: how many more facts would she have to conceal that she’d rather were known? So much for being free from the burden of secrets.

A bell rang out and she jumped. Looking between the bars of her cage, she saw that Famire had left and another three people were entering the room. At once her gaze fixed on the central figure. Even at a distance, with low lighting, she knew him. His walk, though not his usual relaxed stride, was so familiar.

His head turned towards her and did not move away. She saw his lips move. The person to his left hooked fingers around his arm. The one to his right placed a hand on his shoulder. Somehow she registered that the first was Jonare and the second Errek, but she could not tear her eyes from Izare.

A longing filled her. I must be mad. I’m about to be sent to prison but all I can think of is what it would be like to touch him again. To feel the warmth of his skin against hers. To hear his voice. To see his smile.

Izare continued staring at her until he stopped before the priests, then he turned to regard them. She could not tear her eyes away from him. She waited for Sa-Elem to repeat his introduction, but different words echoed around the hall.

“Move away from the bars, Ais Lazuli.”

She blinked and registered cold metal against her palms. Looking down, she realised she was gripping the bars, her face pressed into a gap between them. With an effort, she let go and stepped backwards.

Perhaps it would be better if I don’t look at Izare. She backed up to the wall and set her gaze on the floor.

Sa-Elem returned to the routine. Hearing Izare reply that he had read the transcript of her conversation with Sa-Elem sent a flood of gratitude through her. He knows why I did it. He knows I didn’t try to kill a child of his. To hear him say he did not believe anything she’d said to be false was like food after a long fast, or a cool breeze in summer. She smiled, barely listening as Sa-Elem continued, until a different question disrupted the previous sequence.

“Aos Saffre, did you persuade Rielle to use magic to fix the damage done to her by the corrupter so that she could carry a child?”

Breath caught in Rielle’s throat. She looked at Izare. He was glaring at Sa-Elem. Jonare and Errek looked equally shocked.

Hasn’t Izare confirmed everything I said was true?

She expected an angry denial, but Izare’s expression softened and his voice was quiet when he spoke.

“No. And I’d have told her not to, if I had known. If she had t…”

A shiver ran down her spine. She could hear his voice in her mind as she finished the sentence for him.

If she had told me.

Why hadn’t she? She loved him. Why hadn’t she trusted him?

It was too terrible. What I’d done. What it meant for our future. He would have rejected me. And she would have deserved it. She had never longed to share the burden of her mistake with him. Surely, of all people, he would have been the one to tell, but she had never even considered it. Why not?

Because I don’t love him enough to risk everything for him.

She heard a name spoken that roused her out of her thoughts. Looking up again, she saw Izare’s mouth twist in contempt.

“Famire lied,” he said. “She was there to have her portrait done. I can show it to you, if you want proof.”

Rielle felt sick. Did he think it worth losing the commission for the sake of punishing Famire? I’m not worth it, she wanted to call out to him. Don’t sacrifice yourself for me.

“I do,” Sa-Elem replied. He looked at Sa-Baro, who was frowning. “Bring it to the temple at the first opportunity.”

Somewhere in the back of Rielle’s mind something clicked into place. Of course they would want to know if Famire had lied to them. Lying was a worrying habit in someone able to see Stain.

Sa-Elem let out a heavy sigh. “Do either of you have any information to add to this examination?”

Errek shook his head. Izare looked over at Rielle and her heart stopped. If I don’t love him, then why do I feel like this?

“No,” he replied.

“I…” Jonare began. Izare looked at her and frowned.

“Yes?” said Sa-Elem.

The woman grimaced. “Rielle told me something a few quarterdays ago. She said someone was blackmailing her.”

Rielle caught her breath. It hadn’t occurred to her that Jonare might tell them of Sa-Gest’s threat. After all, she had advised Rielle not to tell Izare in case he did something foolish. Surely she would not risk more trouble for her friend for the sake of his tainted ex-lover?

“Did she say who?” Sa-Elem asked.

Jonare frowned. She looked at Rielle, then back at the priests. Rielle could not breathe. If Sa-Gest was named and punished he would think Rielle had told them.

“No,” Jonare lied. “She never said who it was.”

“The corrupter?”

“No, it was a man. Someone powerful.”

“Someone from her family, perhaps?”

Jonare shrugged. “We did consider it might be an attempt by her family to scare her into leaving Izare and return to her parents.” She grimaced. “I advised her not to tell anyone. I wish I hadn’t now.”

Izare was scowling at Jonare. She glanced at him, her expression guilty. “I’m sorry. It seemed wiser at the time that you did not know.”

Sa-Elem drummed his fingers on the table, then nodded. “If there is nothing else, you may go.”

She ought to have been relieved, but Rielle felt empty as she watched the trio leaving. Every step Izare took towards the far door was one closer to her last sight of him. Something in her chest tightened painfully and she knew she could not let this last opportunity slip through her hands. The priests would tell her to be silent, so she would have to be quick.

“Izare!” she called. He froze midstep. “Izare, I am sorry! I—”

“SILENCE!” Sa-Koml bellowed over her last few words, but Izare had heard. He turned and looked back at her but it was too dim in the back of the hall for her to see his expression. She caught a movement in the edge of her vision, in the direction of the priests. Errek took hold of Izare’s arm. Abruptly turning away, Izare strode towards the doors and out of sight.

When the door closed, silence filled the room. Turning to the priests, she found that Sa-Elem was watching her. Sa-Koml was scowling but the scarred priest looked, if anything, a little bored. Sa-Elem glanced at the scribe, then turned to his companions.

“I wish it to be recorded that I believe Izare’s shock on discovering Rielle had used magic was genuine. I regard her story as likely to be true, though I suspect omissions.”

The scarred priest hummed. “It often appears there is more going on. Sometimes there is a deliberate attempt to mislead or distract.”

Sa-Koml shrugged. “It does not matter. Ais Lazuli has admitted to stealing from the Angels three times. At first unwillingly and later unintentionally, but once deliberately.”

“The punishment for all instances is imprisonment at the Mountain Temple, but the latter requires she also be made an example of by a public expulsion from the city,” Sa-Elem reminded him.

Sa-Koml nodded, his expression grim. “We allowed the family a private examination, but we cannot stretch the law any further.”

A shock went through Rielle. It left her weak and shaking. She grabbed at the bars to steady herself as a memory of the tainted, covered in rags, rose to block all vision of her surrounds. She heard the sound of the crowd, saw the missiles flying …

Hands gripped her upper arms. Her knees bent and she heard a grunt behind her as someone took her weight. Dragging in a breath, she managed to get her legs to support her again, then let whoever was holding her guide her out of the cage.

In the passage, she sagged again. Sa-Elem’s voice boomed in the passageway but she could not make out what he said. There was someone on either side, supporting and guiding her through the dim, cold ways. Doors opened and closed. Hinges creaked. She was lowered onto a hard surface. A lock clicked. Footsteps faded away.

Eventually she recovered enough for one word to creep into her thoughts.

When?

How long would it be before she was paraded through the city? How long before she was taken from everything and everyone she’d ever known? The question repeated in her mind until she heard the door open. Looking up, she saw that the guard had been there all along. Now Sa-Baro stood beside him. The guard left and the old priest turned to regard her.

He wrung his hands as he approached her, his eyebrows knitting together.

“Rielle,” he said. “Ais Lazuli. I am so sorry. I know now the terrible timing of my actions. If I hadn’t spoken to your parents when I did you might have trusted me enough to reveal what had happened to you. You might not have run away from your family.”

His apology sent a bitter anger through her. Rising, she came closer to the gate, but not so close he might think she would try to escape. “So you get to ask for forgiveness, but I don’t.”

He grimaced. “It’s always better not to expose family and friends to—”

“Tell me one thing,” she interrupted. “When do I leave?”

He winced. “Ah. I don’t know exactly.”

It was a lie. She could tell from the way he avoided her gaze. Perhaps he had been warned not to tell her. Perhaps they feared she would try to escape if she knew. To use magic. After all, what did she have to lose now? Her soul? It was already condemned.

“Sa-Baro?” another voice said.

The priest turned and she saw that the scarred one had entered the room. Sa-Baro nodded and retreated from the gate. He started for the exit, but as he passed the scarred priest he stopped.

“Sa-Mica,” he said quietly. “Keep a close eye on Sa-Gest.”

The scarred priest nodded. “I will.”

“You know…?”

“Yes. Rest assured, the Mountain Temple is the only appropriate place for men like him, isolated from the innocents he would harm here.”

Rielle staggered back, recoiling as if struck by the words. Sa-Gest is coming with us. Sa-Gest will be working at the prison. She could not breathe. She fell back onto the bench.

Then she realised what this meant. Sa-Gest would not be in Fyre. Surely he could not cause trouble for Izare and her family from afar. A mad hope filled her. Once he had left Fyre she would be free to speak of Sa-Gest’s threats.

Except that he could always return to Fyre, or make arrangements from afar. So long as he was alive, he was a danger. At least she could ensure he was only a danger to her.

“What is wrong?”

She looked up. Sa-Mica stood at the gate, his dark eyes narrowed with suspicion.

Taking a deep breath, she gathered what control she could and laughed bitterly.

“What isn’t?

“It was something Sa-Baro said, wasn’t it? He’s gone now. You may speak.”

She looked away so that he would not see her anger. So I can talk now, can I? Well, too bad. You’ll get nothing out of me. After all, I’ve been told to be quiet, not to complain or criticise, to stay silent all my life. I’ve had plenty of practice at it. It was a pathetic kind of resistance, but it was all she had.

When her refusal to answer outlasted his patience, he sighed.

“There is more to this. Don’t think that I will not discover it.”

She ignored him, and remained immobile until he left.