“If they haven’t all been overrun by Duul’s forces,” I said. “And if I had any money.”
“Right,” Vix said. “I forgot you were broke. Here.” She walked over and took my pole in one hand, then used the other to affix a new piece to the head. The spearhead was longer and came to a sharper point than the small knife I had used before.
“I suppose you aren’t allowed to trade the temple’s jewels?” Cindra asked.
“Jewels,” I said. “That would be nice. Wish we could get our hands on some of those.”
“There’s a small pile of them over there,” she said, pointing into the darkness behind Nola’s floating crystal.
You have jewels?, I asked.
I don’t know what those are, Nola said. My first head priest collected those before he mysteriously disappeared. If you have a use for them, take them.
“Cindra, since you know your way around in the dark, would you mind exploring the rest of the temple? Vix and I can handle dinner.”
“We can?” Vix asked.
“I’m not asking you to cook,” I said. “I need a hunting partner.”
“Oh,” Vix said. “That sounds like fun actually. What do we do, dig a hole and learn how to make bird calls and slowly lure something into a pit to capture and kill?”
“I was thinking we would just use our weapons and find something edible to sneak up on.”
“That works,” she said.
“So you two will go look for food, and I’ll stay here?” Cindra asked.
“That’s the plan,” I said.
Nola?, I asked.
Cindra has good vibes, Nola said, but she’s still just a visitor here. Stay close so I can call out if I need you.
Vix and I left the temple through the gaping cave mouth that she would soon make a door for. Again we walked the flat path between the ridge of two hills that led back into the forest.
“Are you really going to stay here?” Vix asked. “I know you said you were head priest, but this place is just an empty shell of a temple. It’s nothing like the ones in the cities.”
“I’ll stay,” I said. “I’ve been a weakling all my life. Now I have this amazing ability, but it comes with a price. Protecting Nola. And I’m happy to do that, because she has no one else on her team. I know what that’s like.”
“Me too,” Vix said.
“Really?”
She sighed. “I’m not running from some shady past. I’m not a murderess or a thief. I’m just one of the last few purebred foxkin. My family insisted on betrothing me to a rotten, ugly, contemptable man just because we’d have a beautiful litter of foxkin children one day.
“I don’t want that. I want to form the kinds of relationships I want, when I want them, without living by everyone else’s rules. I have rules too, ya know. And I think they’re pretty good ones.”
“Rules like what?” I asked.
“Like, for starters, not being ashamed of what I want from life. Other people aren’t, why should I be? Oh, and always striving to be the best version of myself that I can, no matter how difficult or exhausting it is. That’s one of the reasons I’m glad I met you. You’re not stingy with the skillmeistering.”
She gave me a playful punch in the arm. “And what,” I asked, “are the other reasons you’re glad you met me?”
“That brings me to rule number three,” she said. “Never show your cards all at once.”
A squawking sound up ahead caught our attention. A large bird with white feathers pecked at the ground under a bush. It wandered toward another bush, hopping along the way. Despite the violent thrashing of its wings as it made that short jump, it was too fat and round to fly.
I held a finger up to my mouth, then pointed to the bird. She understood. We stalked closer to the animal, and closer. The sun was setting, and soon it would be dark, but for now there was light enough for that bird to see us coming if we made the slightest—
Crunch.
Vix had stepped on a pinecone. That’s all it took to draw the bird’s attention, scare the living daylights out of it, and send it on a teetering sprint through the tree trunks.
I would not be evaded so easily. Cindra, Vix, and I had a long day’s work, and if they were as hungry as I was we risked some Hannibal Lecter-style danger if we didn’t bag this bird for our dinner.
Vix and I ran, weaving between the trees and keeping twenty feet away from each other. It was a natural, seamless kind of teamwork, like she could ready my body and intuit where I would move next.
We closed the distance between us and our meal. Vix Walloped the ground with her mallet, sending vibrations from the ground that took the bird by surprise. When it slowed down to get its bearings, I pulled my arm back and launched my spear like a javelin. The stone tip sank into the bird’s side and knocked it down.
We jogged to the animal. I knelt down. “Gods above and gods below, we praise the gifts that you bestow. Bless us now before we dine, in the name of thee and thine.”
“What was that?” Vix asked.
“And old habit,” I said. “Head Priest Cahn never fed me; I had to fend for myself. I knew the prayer of grace he recited before meals, and I started saying it too, whenever and wherever I happened to find food.”
“Aw,” Vix said, “like you were always destined to be a head priest one day.”
“Destiny,” I said. “I never thought I’d have one of those.” We laughed and dragged the bird behind us. We’d have to pluck it, drain it, and cook it, but I didn’t want to spend more time away from the temple than necessary.
When we got back inside, Cindra was nowhere to be found.
+7
“Cindra?” I called. My voice echoed into the dark. We left our dead bird by the entrance and stepped further inside. My first thought was the jewels – that she had taken them and run. I shook that thought aside. She didn’t seem like the type. I had never been overly cynical when I had nothing worth losing, I didn’t want to become that way now.
She’s here, Nola said. Listen.
We quieted and then heard someone crying gently in the dark. I followed that sound until I couldn’t see anything for the darkness. I was inches away from her now, though I couldn’t see her.
“Cindra?”
“I’m so embarrassed,” she said.
“Why?” I asked.
“Old wounds close slowly I suppose,” she said. “When Mercifer left me, he said he’d be back soon. He knew it was a lie, he must have, but I believed him. The same way I believed you, but the second you left I remembered what that felt like, being alone in a strange place, hoping the only companion I had ever known wouldn’t abandon me.”
“I’m sorry, Cindra,” I said. “We shouldn’t have left you here. That was insensitive after what you’ve been through.”
“No,” Cindra said. “Don’t apologize. You came back for me. No one’s ever done that before.” I felt her brush past me as she walked toward the center of the temple. Then a spark ignited a small flame and she put a handful of burning twigs into one of the stone basins that sat next to the altar.
A flickering flame illuminated the temple. “How did you do that?” I asked.
“There was a pile of kindling here,” she said, “and I found some flint.”
Now that the temple was lit up, I realized it wasn’t as shabby as I had first thought. The front of the temple, which I had seen before, was rough rock that was never finished. The altar was a simple slab flanked by fire pit urns. The rear wall, however, was smooth, polished stone with intricate carvings. A door was set in the wall there, though I didn’t know where it would lead. Two sets of shelves were carved in the wall on either side of that door.