Two smears of blood ran down either cheek. Her hands also dripped crimson, palms up toward the sky. She murmured the prayers to herself in a sing-song rhythm that sent shivers down Sylah’s spine. Her eyes rolled in her sockets.
“Anyme, take me as your sacrifice, take me as the savior, place your wrath upon me, your chosen follower. For I will be yours. The blood, the power, the life.”
Sylah tiptoed away. The Abosom was entranced by her prayer, and Sylah didn’t want to interrupt her again.
Sylah entered the west wing of the Keep, a longer walk back to Anoor’s, but one she needed. She was so immersed in her thoughts that she found herself drifting toward the warden library automatically, like she had when she was scouting the place. She was about to turn on her heel when she heard them.
“Another one made it across the Marion Sea,” Uka said.
“Another one?” Wern replied. The Warden of Strength and the Warden of Knowledge were walking down the corridor toward her, their voices soft.
“Yes, thankfully one of my officers apprehended him before he made it beyond the coast. We have already burned the body.”
“Good. Good,” Wern said, her frail voice warbling.
“He had this with him.”
Sylah heard the rustle of paper. She pushed herself into an alcove.
“From the Zwina Academy?”
“Yes, they’re requesting aid from all corners of the land. The Zalaam are raising an army,” Uka said.
The word was new to Sylah, ominous sounding. She committed it to memory; maybe Anoor would know it.
“Did anyone see them?”
“Just a couple of Nowerks.”
“Dealt with?”
“Of course,” Uka snorted. “I will burn the letter. The academy can take care of it.”
Sylah realized too late that her hiding place was backlit by a runelamp. She moved out of the alcove and began to walk with purpose, keeping her head down.
“You! You’re Anoor’s servant, are you not?”
And your daughter.
“Yes, Warden.” Shoulders slumped, head bowed, knees bent for a quick getaway.
“What are you doing on this side of the Keep? Anoor should keep a shorter leash on you.”
“Sorry, Warden. I was just making my way to the tunnels, the tidewind looked like it was going to begin.”
“So soon?” Wern asked the question to Uka, who gave her an irritated glance.
“Go back to your chambers now.”
“Yes, Warden.”
Uka and Wern marched on, and Sylah rushed away. She needed to tell Anoor what she’d heard.
—
They were in the bath, the warm water lapping at the sides as Anoor scrubbed at her hair. Sylah realized she’d been dreaming of this moment since she’d first seen Anoor lying so brazenly in the tub over two mooncycles ago.
Sylah held out her hand for the bar of soap, but Anoor waved her off. Then her hands were in Sylah’s short curls working the soap into a lather.