The next few days were just as cheerless as the last. Meredith and Dienna spent their hours cooped up inside the chapel, for Flavus advised against any more journeying outside.
“We don’t quite know your position yet,” he explained apologetically the morning after they had arrived. “And we don’t quite know what that Artima woman is up to. It would be best, er, safest if you stayed inside. Wouldn’t want any ogres or dark elves poking about.”
Dienna had simply nodded and had agreed that they would stay indoors.
“She made it sound like it would be easy,” Meredith said quietly to herself. She was in the small, damp room that served as Flavus' study in the basement of the chapel, studying some of the older tomes. They were fascinating, dating back to a time when the Way was young. Unfortunately for her, though, the language was somewhat difficult to understand. The centuries had changed the Dorneldian tongue considerably. The texts she was trying to decipher predated the Lathaian explorers, and were water-damaged at that. What words she could make out were mostly unfamiliar, outdated. On top of that, the little room was messy (Flavus had left books lying everywhere, open and stacked on top of each other, almost as if he had been going through them in a hurry) and smelled heavily of mold, which made Meredith’s nose tickle. It was bad enough that she worried her violent sneezes would damage the delicate books.
She closed the text she was laboring through in annoyance, and began playing with one of the tight coils of her hair.
“Meredith!” came a faint call from outside. This was followed by the sound of someone quickly descending the stairs. In moments, Dienna flung open the door, a smile of relief on her face.
“What is it?” Meredith asked.
Dienna was beaming, “There’s been another messenger. My parents—they’re alright!”
Meredith forced a smile, “That’s great!”
“There’s still no definitive word about my brother,” Dienna continued, her smile fading a bit. She came to sit down across the desk from Meredith. “But he is probably with the other prisoners.”
“Prisoners?”
Dienna nodded, “The messenger said that nearly everyone who was at the Sunset Ceremony are prisoners—whether they are being kept in the dungeons or are simply being confined to the Godskeep, I don't know. Cormin, of all people, has been placed in charge of the prisoners at the Godskeep, along with some mercenary man. Cormin is apparently educating the prisoners about the New Way.” Dienna scowled, “That is the name they’ve given Artima’s blasphemous new teachings about the gods.”
“Cormin!” Meredith exclaimed. “He’s in charge?”
“Yes. That’s what Flavus said,” Dienna responded firmly. “The mercenary handles the army of ogres and the elves, but Cormin is responsible for the education of all the prisoners.”
Meredith was silent. She felt cold, empty all of a sudden. Her throat constricted as she choked back tears.
“Meredith?” Dienna said hesitantly.
It took every fiber of her being not to break down and cry again. She exhaled slowly, deliberately, but could not bring herself to speak. The sting of his betrayal was fresh and deep. He was family to her, and Meredith could never think her family capable of doing something so horrid, so terrible. At least now the strange things Cormin had been saying at the Midsummer Ceremonies made sense—he knew Artima, had been working for her, and he supported her and her New Way.
Dienna regarded her friend with pity, “I'm sorry, Mer. I know this can't be easy. I...I remember him from when we were small.”
Meredith nodded sadly, “He was just a boy the last time I saw him…And I was so happy to see him again.”
“I’m sorry,” Dienna said quietly. She placed her hand on her friend’s shoulder and continued, “He left so long ago…clearly, he’s changed. Or, perhaps, Artima has him under a spell? Maybe he’s not entirely himself?”
“You didn’t hear him at the Ceremony,” Meredith said, still bitter. She tried to keep her voice even, though she could still feel a lump in her throat, “He’s grown quite handsome, you know. Gran and Daela were so happy to see him too. And he…he danced with me,” she paused, then her expression hardened, “but no, whatever happened to him, he chose it. He was under no spell. You should have heard some of the stories he was telling us about his time at sea. I should have realized then that something was different about him.”
Dienna must have seen the tears nearly as soon as Meredith felt them sliding down her cheeks, for she was quick to step around the desk and hold her close. She held her there until Meredith broke away, shaking her head and wiping away the tears with the back of her hand.
“I’m sure the rest of your family is okay,” Dienna said with a confident, kind smile. “From what the messenger said, the prisoners aren’t being treated poorly, as long as they accept the New Way.”
Meredith gave a dark chuckle, “I hope Gran keeps her mouth shut then. She’s the last person who would ever accept this mad new religion.”
The two were silent for long moments. The damp air felt heavy in Meredith’s lungs.
“Where did they say your parents are now?” Meredith asked after a time.
“Oh,” Dienna said, coming out of her reverie. “They were confirmed to be seen in the Riverlands. I assume,” she continued, “that they are headed to the Port Cities.”
Meredith nodded, “Probably. I guess that means we’ll be waiting for the King to take care of this after all.”
“Yes, I suppose so. Knowing my parents, though, they will not rest until the King himself rides to the Valley and takes back the Godskeep. It won't be long before we're back in our own beds again, with Artima behind bars.”
“Or worse,” Meredith returned darkly.
Dienna glowered at her, “Mer. She hasn't actually hurt anyone.”
“That we know of.”
Dienna sighed deeply, “Yes, that we know of. Artima will pay for her crimes, Mer, but let's not jump to more severe forms of punishment just yet.”
“Right,” Meredith mumbled.
She felt a myriad of emotions as she followed Dienna up the cellar stairs. She was happy that Lord Mayrim and Lady Grenna were apparently alive and well, but she could not help worrying about her own family. The fact that they were Cormin’s prisoners did not alleviate her fears. She had seen the cruelty in him, in those last few moments before chaos had exploded at the Sunset Ceremony. She hoped Sonder was well too, wherever he was. Although Dienna did not express much concern over him, Meredith knew he was weighing on her mind. She knew about the dreams; Dienna always woke with her brother’s name on her lips, crying out in fear and pain, clutching her shoulder where her skin still burned with the fury of the gods. Meredith still wondered about that. Why, if Artima were lying, would Dienna be suffering that fevered touch? How could Artima have known that Dienna, and apparently thousands of other faithful followers of the Way, had experienced this same phenomenon? What did she stand to gain by lying about the gods?
Dienna was in good spirits the rest of the day, but Meredith still felt as poorly as she had before the good news. She skulked around their room, reading one of Flavus’ copies of the Book of the Three, trying to find some comfort in its words, but it was no use. The Book taught perseverance in times of difficulty, serenity in times of madness, and faith when the road was unknown. Empty words, Meredith thought. Neither the guiding light of Seltos’ stars, nor the wisdom contained in Lantos’ sagacious moon, nor the courage enveloped by Dartos’ brilliant sun inspired Meredith to rise above her doubt and frustration. She glanced at Dienna, also reading from the Book of the Three. It was nighttime, and the faint glow of her candle illuminated her pristine face, calm and peaceful, as she read the words of the faith she had devoted her life to. As long as Meredith could remember, Dienna had never had difficulty believing in those perfectly vague, yet perfectly uplifting little teachings. She envied that, envied her unscrupulous faith. Even as she watched her friend now, Meredith could practically see her faith in the words she read by the light in her eyes and the faint smile tugging at her flushed lips.
Meredith closed her book with a loud snap.
Dienna looked up, “Is something wrong, Mer?”
“I’ve just thought of something,” she said, more to herself than her friend. Perhaps she was being too paranoid, but she wasn’t sure. She turned to the other girl, “When I ran in to that wizard, Endrick,” she paused, deep in thought, “he hadn’t heard the news about what happened at the Godskeep. I had to tell him.”
“Yes?” Dienna replied, not following.
Meredith continued slowly, “You told me, that Flavus told you, that two days before we arrived, a messenger had come to Drelwood to announce what had happened.”
“That’s right,” Dienna said, confused.
“Well, if that messenger came two days before we got here, then why didn’t Endrick know about what had happened?” Meredith asked. She came to sit on the edge of her bed, facing Dienna. “I mean, it’s not like the messenger would have just told old Flavus. Something like this would have been cried in the town square! People would be talking about it.”
Dienna frowned. Her candle was burning lower, casting dark shadows all about the tiny room.
“They would indeed,” she said. “You know, I was wondering why no one at the service offered their condolences to me for what had happened. They didn’t seem to know who I was either.”
Meredith wasn’t so sure that the old ladies of Drelwood would have recognized Dienna as the daughter of the Keeper even if they had heard about what had happened at the Godskeep, but she kept this to herself. Dienna still had a point. None of those at the service had seemed afraid or preoccupied, as one would expect out of old women whose faith was actively under attack by a rogue sorceress. None of them talked about it, and Flavus had mentioned nothing about it in his sermon. Flavus, who had initially been keen to send Meredith out on what she considered a fool's errand, had changed his mind almost overnight about letting either of them out of the chapel. While she could see the sense in not wanting to draw the attention of Artima's minions, should they be about, Meredith was becoming less and less sure that they had even been followed.
“Something isn’t right, here,” Meredith muttered. She stood and hastily threw her acolyte robes over her dressing gown. “I’m going to talk to Flavus.”
“Meredith!” Dienna said, alarmed. “Wait!”
It was too late for that, though. Meredith had too much doubt in her mind to reconsider what she was about to do. As she opened the door, she paused long enough to give Dienna a backward glance.
“Come on, Dee. You’re the daughter of the Keeper,” she said, playing in to Dienna’s pride. “You can handle a suspicious old priest.”
As Meredith expected, Dienna fairly bristled at this remark. With a serious, determined look, she flung her crimson robe over her own dressing gown, gave Meredith a nod, and led the way out the door. Meredith could hardly hold back her bemused smile; if only their circumstances weren’t so dire—she might have laughed at how quickly her friend slipped into her role. As it was though, Meredith only tightened the scarf around her dark curls, and followed after her.
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