Divined (10 page)

Ixie didn’t move. “Nox won’t tell Riece, don’t worry. He said Riece is on his way back to Morek from the Corner. He also gave me this.” She reached behind her and pulled out a large bottle of dark liquid.

“Good,” Clio breathed, relaxing. Nox understood. Clio had been too afraid to see the truth—she could refuse to serve the Deities, but that didn’t mean the Deities wouldn’t find someone else to do their bidding. Riece would never be safe as long as the Deities had worshippers.

Summon me, Clio. I’ll help you face this woman. I’ll even let you keep Riece after I’ve finished with you. No more threats. We can work together as we once did. All you need to do is—

“Hand me the draught,” Clio croaked, breaking through Vazuil’s hold.

“No.” Ixie stood.

“Ixie. I need it.” Vazuil’s voice was only getting louder as the words he said became harder and harder to deny. She felt her mind folding around him, inviting him deeper.

“You’ve been close to dying twice now from injuries that wouldn’t have kept you down for more than an evening before. It’s killing you, and I can’t sit by and watch anymore.”

“What are you saying?” Clio asked, already knowing Ixie’s next words.

“If you take any more of it, then I’m leaving. I can’t serve you anymore.”

“You don’t serve me—Ixie, you’re more than that to me.”

“What am I, Clio? Your sister? Your friend? Whatever I am to you, I won’t be anymore, not if you take that.” Ixie’s face betrayed nothing, her tone remained flat.

Clio saw Ixie then, really saw her. The strong, impassioned girl who loved fighting as much as she loved dancing. The girl who would defy anyone to stand up for what she believed. She was so much more than a Vessel, and forcing her to stay here to wage a futile war with invisible Deities would never satisfy this girl. No, she wanted a real enemy under her hands, someone she knew she could face. She needed more than Clio could offer, and Clio didn’t want to hold Ixie from it anymore. It didn’t matter how much it would hurt to lose her.

Clio reached for the draught, uncorked it, and took a long swallow. When she set the bottle down, Ixie was already gathering her things. She went to the door, and stopped as if she was going to turn around or say something. But moments passed, and Ixie walked through the door without so much as a glance back at everything she was leaving behind.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

The day was brighter than it had any right to be. Clio hadn’t wanted to face it, hadn’t wanted to go out into the city without Ixie at her side. But Ixie wasn’t coming back, and Clio couldn’t sit in that dank and musty room with nothing but her own black thoughts and Ashira’s quiet tears any longer.

She had declared war on the Deities when she refused to serve them. It was time she found out exactly who she was up against.

The city crowded around her as she made her way toward the temple. She’d spent the morning trying to recreate as best she could the bald woman’s mark on a small piece of parchment. She had tried to sketch the strange tattoos the woman had around her head, but there were too many of them, and Clio’s mind had been foggy with draught. She lost the memory in a tangle of black lines and thick swirls.

The temple was opening its doors as Clio approached. Falling in line with the row of sick and poor who waited to see healers, she did her best not to dwell on the empty ache in her chest. The draught had helped with that for a time, but even its bitter bite couldn’t cover all that Clio had lost. All that she had pushed away.

She wouldn’t sit back and watch it happen any longer. She wouldn’t let this woman get to Riece. She had a single clue with which to work—the mark. If she could find out which Deity the woman served, then perhaps Clio could stop her before she got to Riece. It was a start.

But she would need help. And she would need to trust someone else with her secrets.

Ealis waited in the large receiving room with a string of other white-robed healers. He spotted her immediately and walked over as the city’s sick were brought in and offered water and bread.

“Your forehead,” he said immediately, leaning in to inspect the ugly black bruise above her brow. “Here, come with me.”

Clio nodded and followed him down a narrow corridor. Archways covered by silk curtains spanned the walls, and it was through one of these Ealis led her.

“Have a seat please.” He motioned to a straw mat and grabbed a small jar off the shelf by the doorway.

“Ealis, I’m all right, really.”

“That bruise doesn’t look all right. What happened to you?” He knelt at her side, dipped his finger into the jar and began massaging something smelling strongly of sap into her tender skin. His face was suddenly close to hers, and Clio could feel his breath against her neck. She flinched away, and Ealis stilled in his ministrations.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered softly, her eyes on the floor.

“Why did you come here, Clio? Clearly, it wasn’t for healing.” His voice was sharp, bitter.

“I—you once told me you had experience with curses like the one you saw on my chest.”

He looked up, his eyes flickering to the place where Daizon’s mark lay hidden under her robes. He nodded, his expression guarded.

“I was attacked two days ago by a woman who bore a mark like this, only I didn’t recognize the pattern.”

“Do you remember what it looked like?”

“I do,” Clio said then took a deep breath. “But, there’s more. Ealis, this mark on my chest, it belonged to a Deity by the name of Daizon. I broke the curse he placed on me and then I killed him.” She watched as his eyes widened, but he remained silent. “In order to kill him, though, I made a deal with another Deity—Vazuil. He didn’t mark me, but he did curse me using his own blood. It’s for this reason I take the poisonous draught Nox made for me—it’s the only way I’ve found to keep Vazuil out of my head.”

“Blood curses? I’ve never heard of such a thing.”

“No, I didn’t think you would have. Deities don’t like to offer up their blood to mortals. The only reason he gave it to me was because, well, because I’m the Oracle.” Clio let out all her breath, the weight of her secret finally relieved. She fixed her gaze on Ealis, ready for surprise or perhaps even fear.

“This woman, do you think she serves the same Deity who cursed you?”

Clio blinked. “It’s possible,” she started. “Sorry, I just—um, you don’t exactly seem all that surprised. Usually, when I tell people what I am, they…don’t take it very well. Blades are often involved. Not that this isn’t refreshing,” she added, and Ealis laughed, entirely at ease. “You already knew,” Clio said, realizing.

He nodded.

“Who—who told you? Nox?”

“Nox does everything in his power to avoid speaking to me. He blames me for the council’s decision to send him to the Order. No, he wouldn’t have told me even if I had asked.”

“Then how?” she asked, gaping. “Do you know the price the Emperor has placed on my head? The risk I have brought to your city?”

“We do not fear the Emperor here.”

“You’re avoiding my question, Ealis.”

He sighed. “I suppose I have a confession to make as well.”

CHAPTER NINETEEN

“Have you heard the rumors about Cearo’s prophets?” he asked as he began to unknot the ties at the front of his robe.

“Ixie mentioned some believed the prophets to have strange magics. But she said there was no real evidence of truth.”

He slid off the sleeve of his robe, exposing his slender arm. Clio leaned in. On the inside of his arm, just above his elbow, was a small circle made of dozens of interconnected swirls.

“What is this?” Clio whispered, tracing the pattern and thinking of the bald woman’s tattoos on her scalp. In many ways, the markings were similar, but Ealis’ didn’t look like it had been pressed into his skin. It was too seamless with the rest of him, whereas the woman’s was raised and textured.

“The city’s prophets are born with it. Each of us bear something different relating to whichever ability we possess.”

“Ability?” Clio’s eyes met his.

“When I touch someone’s blood, I’m given a glimpse inside their mind. I can’t control it, and I certainly don’t learn every secret or lie within the person’s heart, but I get a sense of their truest self. The longer I touch their blood, the more I learn.”

“That’s why you’re a healer.”

“Coincidentally, I like healing. And I don’t make an effort to see into each person I tend. But, sometimes, it’s useful. And when I touched your blood, I saw what you were. But I also saw you didn’t want to be this.”

“You knew I was lying the whole time.” Clio felt her face grow red with shame.

“I’m not often concerned with lies. I saw your intent, and that was enough. If I had thought you a threat to my city, I would not have allowed you to stay.”

“I can’t believe it,” Clio said, her mouth slack. “All this time, Ixie thought you careless for spending so much time with me as I was healing, but you were really trying to learn more about me, weren’t you?”

A small smile parted his lips. “I’ll admit, I was a bit concerned when I first saw what you were. It took a couple visits before I could feel certain you weren’t a threat to my people.”

Clio shook her head. “When Ixie finds out—” She stopped. She wouldn’t get the chance to tell Ixie. The realization sucked the air from Clio’s lungs. “Could you tell me more about these marks?” she asked, pushing Ixie from her mind.

Ealis hesitated, but whether he sensed something was wrong or not, he allowed Clio to change the subject. “The marks appear on six men or women each generation, and they go on to serve on the council. We don’t know exactly how it works, but some believe it a relic from some ancient Deity’s blessing.”

“The woman who attacked me, she had something like this but it didn’t look like she was born with it. Have you heard of anyone like that?”

He shook his head. “I haven’t. But you said she was sent by a Deity? Perhaps he gave her the markings.”

It made sense. The woman had been unnaturally strong. A shudder traveled down Clio’s spine. The Deities had so many ways of controlling mortals, there was no saying what kinds of abilities the woman had been given in exchange for serving this Deity.

Clio pulled the stiff parchment out from her robes. “Will you help me find out who’s behind this?”

Ealis led her to the back of the temple where a small staircase descended down under the ground.

“The mark looks familiar. I can’t remember where I’ve seen it but I feel certain we will find it here. The priests who originally built this temple also constructed a large hidden library. They didn’t allow common folk to come down here, but over the years, the council has made it so knowledge is free to whomever would seek it. Of course, not many do,” he added with a frown as they reached the last step.

The walls around them were stone. In some places vines and roots had broken through and hung green and watery over the vast open space. Great basins filled with flames lit the cavern, casting light on the rows of scrolls packed into towering shelves. In the center of the room was a shallow pond, reflecting the faded murals painted on the ceiling.

“Stories of the Deities would be back here,” Ealis said, walking over to a smaller rack behind the pond.

“How do you have this?” Clio wondered as she ran a hand along the aged vellum.

“Many of those who sought refuge in Cearo brought with them Deities from faraway lands. We’ve recorded as much as we could about where they came from and whom they worshipped. And from time to time, someone would come to the temple and show us a strange mark they had on their flesh. They wished to free themselves from the cruel Deities of their past.”

“You have to forsake worship and destroy the mark to escape,” Clio said.

“We learned that eventually, and we recorded as many marks as we came across here.” He gestured to the shelf. “I had wondered if there was something in here that could help you with yours, but it’s been difficult to search without knowing the nature of your curse.”

“Mine runs in my blood.” Both Vazuil’s blood and her father’s.

“That does makes it harder to destroy. Have you tried bleeding it out of you?” he asked as he pulled down scrolls and began unrolling them on a low table.

“At first. Nox helped me. It worked for a while, but then as I healed, it always came back.”

“I see.” He frowned. “I’m afraid there are no accounts in here pertaining to an Oracle, but I can perform some examinations—”

Clio placed a hand on his arm, stopping him. “Thank you, Ealis. Truly.”

Color rose in his cheeks, and he smiled almost shyly. “I suppose we should get started then. We have a lot of scrolls to get through if we are going to find a way to help you and find out who sent your attacker.”

There was no way to determine how much time had passed in the cavern as they dug through scroll after scroll, but at some point, a girl in gray robes brought down supper. It sat cold and uneaten as Clio refused to pause in her search. Some of the writings were illegible from years of decaying parchment, but Clio stared at the small symbols etched across the page until her eyes were bleary and heavy.

“Here’s something,” Ealis called out, his voice breaking through the long silence.

“What?” Clio jumped up.

“It’s the mark on your chest,” he said, pointing out the small recreation of Daizon’s mark on the page.

“I don’t need to learn more about a Deity I’ve already killed.” She rubbed her eyes with frustration.

Ealis looked up, and Clio instantly regretted the harsh edge in her tone. “I’m sorry, I just feel as if we’ve been at this for ages, and there hasn’t been a single reference to whoever this Deity is.”

“Perhaps we should take a break, eat something.” He reached for their untouched plates and passed one to Clio.

She chewed without tasting. This woman was out there somewhere, getting closer to Riece, and Clio was nowhere nearer finding out who sent her. Sleep crept through her mind, slowing her thoughts, and dragging at her eyelids. “What did it say about Daizon?” she asked, trying to fight through her exhaustion.

“It called him ‘The Fallen One’ and said he was responsible for inciting a war among the Deities—”