My own personality does that for me, Justin joked.
The raven was stern. Not like this. This object may have been instrumental in the Grand Disciple’s rise to power and why he’s able to exert the control he does not only over his followers but his government as well. Find it and take it, and you would bring a great asset to Odin— and deal a harsh blow to Nehitimar.
Justin was unmoved. I already am, in thwarting the Grand Disciple’s plan to tear apart our infrastructure! Mortal concerns like that are much bigger to me right now than nebulous immortal ones.
Justin ignored the ravens’ further badgering and longed to discuss the night’s events with Mae when he arrived back at Carl’s estate. He was troubled by the priestly role he’d so easily slipped into, as well as some suspicions he was gathering about another godly influence. Mae was the only one who could understand, and Justin was grateful that socializing and post-dinner cleanup had detained the rest of the Gemman party. He was able to slip back into the guesthouse undisturbed and go immediately to Mae in his bedroom. The question of that surprising parting kiss was also still fresh in his mind.
She was sitting on his bed when he entered to the room, which was unusual for her. Usually, she had a more predatory position staked out near the door. Her back was to him, though, and she flinched slightly at his entrance.
“Man,” he said, tossing his coat to the floor. “Am I glad to see you. You will not believe the fucked-up night I just had.”
He noticed then that she was fully covered in her Cloistered get- up, which was also weird since she wasn’t obligated to wear it around their guesthouse, especially in his room. Putting the rest of his ruminations on hold, he walked around to face her, growing increasingly troubled by her stillness and odd behavior.
“Everything okay?” he asked, kneeling in front of her. “What’s going on?”
She said and did nothing for several moments, and then slowly, almost nervously, she removed the opaque veil from her face—a face that wasn’t Mae’s. It was Carl’s young concubine, the one who’d been beaten and reprimanded. Justin stared at her dumbfounded, suddenly remembering a story Mae had told him about Hannah asking if one of the Gemmans could impregnate her.
“What are you doing here?” he demanded. “Where’s Mae?”
“I am Mae,” said Hannah simply. “At least for the rest of your trip
I am.”
CHAPTER 19
Act of Faith
Sneaking out of Carl’s compound during dinnertime wasn’t that much more difficult than when Mae had done it late at night. He’d upped his security since that incident, sinking the bulk of it into when darkness fell. With the sun still lingering in the sky and the family up and active, the patrolling security guards were few and far between. The only edge they had was better visibility, so Mae had to be extra conscientious of their positioning when she climbed the tree and swung out over the fence. Returning would’ve been a much more complicated matter . . . if she’d planned on coming back.
No one bothered her once she was on the road, walking toward the salon in ill-fitting men’s clothing. Seeing as Justin had ruined his wide- brimmed hat, Mae had “borrowed” Lucian’s from his room, hoping he wouldn’t mind. Honestly, once he and the others saw what she’d left behind, the hat would be the least of anyone’s worries.
Even now, resolved with this course of action, Mae couldn’t help but feel a pang of guilt for what she was doing to the others. On the surface, the transgression was obvious: she was violating orders and abandoning her mission. That would’ve been wrong in any situation, let alone one that required her presence for extra security. She’d left those who needed her protection and possibly endangered them further by creating a sticky political situation. The Arcadians wouldn’t take kindly to discovering that one of their Gemman guests had disappeared, and Mae could only hope her attempt at damage control would work.
The knife’s vision had left her no alternatives. She had needed to act and act fast. Using Hannah had been a stroke of brilliance, though Mae regretted the girl’s unfortunate circumstances had led her to that point. Val had told Mae earlier that Hannah had been beaten again that morning, severely enough that she was out of commission for dinner. So, while the others ate, Mae had crept to the other guesthouse and given the young Arcadian woman a chance at freedom. Both of them were supposed to be Cloistered for the duration of the Gemman trip and were of close-enough heights that they were indistinguishable when fully wrapped up. Mae’s only gamble had been whether the girl would accept the deal.
Hannah had, with equal parts vehemence and fear. She’d come back to the Gemman guesthouse—after first ransacking her own room to make it look like she’d packed in haste—and accepted Mae’s assurances that the other Gemmans would help her once her identity was known. Mae didn’t actually know that for sure but had to believe it was true. Once they discovered she was gone, it would be in their best interests to leave with as many women as they’d come in with. They’d cover for Hannah, who would hopefully be able to pass as Mae by staying Cloistered until the border. From what Mae had learned, runaway wives and concubines were rare, but surely it was rarer still for one to try to slip out of the country pretending to be a foreigner. So long as no one thought to lift Hannah’s veil, she’d be okay, and the RUNA would give her refugee status once she was on their soil.
Mae’s own fate was less certain, but that was a problem for later. She studied her hand in the dusky light, wondering just how much trouble she’d gotten herself into. The mark from the knife was still there, a tangible reminder of her involvement in supernatural affairs. But she could hardly dismiss the knife’s powers when she turned down the rural side road and found a scene exactly as the vision had shown her. Crouching in the trees, Mae quickly assessed the situation. A large truck with an open flatbed was parked outside the salon, and men were loading up furniture—mostly beds and tables—into it. Near it was parked a large van, presumably what would be used to take the girls themselves. The knife had shown her immediate action was needed, and here the proof was, right before her eyes. If she’d waited one more day—or even until this evening, when Justin got back—her niece might have been gone forever.
And not just her niece. When Mae had traveled to the salon in the knife’s vision, the goddess had spoken to her, that radiant voice echoing everywhere.
Go and get the girl, and I will guide you to safety.
I have to get all the girls, Mae had said. Not just my niece. I can’t take her and leave the rest to that fate.
You have no responsibility to them, the goddess had reminded her.
But Mae had been thinking the matter over for a while and was firm. Some are my countrymen. All are my sisters. One way or another, I have a human responsibility to them. Is it beyond your power to save the rest?
Don’t try to coerce me into acting by playing to my vanity. That’s a human trick, one you don’t need to play on me. I can and will help you, so long as you are up to fulfilling your part.
Yes, of course, Mae had thought bleakly. Justin told me there’d be a price. There always is. What will I owe you?
Faith, the goddess had replied simply. Something you give very easily to your masters in your professional life but a commodity you rarely share personally. If you want this to succeed, you will have to put your faith in me to guide you and know that you will not always immediately have the answers to your questions as you undertake this task. But if you have faith, I will guide you home and help you to thwart your enemies. Do you accept?
Faith had sounded like both an easy and terribly high cost, as no doubt it was intended to. But Mae had agreed, for better or for worse, and now there was no turning back.