Samson moved through the path to the temple much more quickly when Elias wasn’t at his side, but it was not as enjoyable with him gone. Even while scanning the area for threats, there had been a light present then that was no longer there. Still, he moved forward, breathing in the warm, earthy scent of the sunflowers wafting through the bright afternoon. Though Elias’s absence weighed heavily on his shoulders, it wasn’t as though he were alone. This was a goddess’s domain, and her presence could be felt in every warm ray of sun and every soft gust of wind.

Samson’s pace slowed as he passed through the rows of flowers, forcing his steps to be gentle and his pace to be even. It was important to arrive quickly and get all the information he could, but this was not the sort of place one should rush through. He took his time as he approached the building. At the small basin beside the door, he plunged his hands into frigid water, tossing it on his face. Despite the heat of the day, it still made him shiver.

Stepping inside, his jaw was tight, tingling with anticipation. At the small crate, he hesitated. A temple was no place for a weapon. His sword had no right to rest on his hip. Still, the idea of entering this place unarmed now made him nervous. Slowly, he removed his sword from its sheath, placing it in the crate. There should be no one else here to cause trouble. Especially if that had been an attempt to injure Elias, it was unlikely a second culprit would strike Samson on his own.

He would need to find the priestess. She had taken care of him so quickly when he was last here, but he’d been in no condition to help clear the mess or even stumble through apologies. First, however, he knelt before the statue at the center of the room. Yalana’s bright face and Krella’s delicate, joyous smile looked down on him, pleased. In the moment, he felt there was very little about him to be proud of.

Carefully, he pulled the rose from his pocket, setting it before the statue’s feet. The tips of the petals had begun to dry, but it remained a perfect specimen. Neither of them cared too much for flowers as offerings, but Samson hoped that giving them some small piece of Elias, a piece he would otherwise keep close to his chest as a sacred artifact, would be enough.

His prayer was the same as it always was. Let me keep Elias safe.

All he needed to do was solve this. If he could just find out the motivations behind the assault, see if there was anyone else affiliated with the attacker, anyone else who would harm him, he would be able to keep him safe. If he was lucky, he would find no connections to anything else and manage to prove without a doubt that this was just one rogue citizen. If he was not, Samson would stop at nothing to ensure no other attempts were made in the name of whatever this was. If he could not protect Elias from everything, he could at least keep him safe from this.

Samson rose, glancing over his shoulder. It was silent within the temple, but he still checked behind him, eyes scanning near the entrance just a bit too long before moving on to the rest of the room. As he looked to the opposite end, a stain on the marble floors caught his eye. It was a dull rusty brown, not entirely jarring, but unpleasant to look at once noticed. He swallowed.

Very well. Before he went looking for the temple’s caretaker, he would look for the supply closet. The temple was familiar enough that it didn’t take too long to find.

Samson knelt with the bucket and rag he had found and filled with soap. If he scrubbed hard enough, the color lifted a bit. It was slow work for the large area the stain covered, but this was not the keeper’s duty. If he was foolish enough to spill blood in Yalana’s temple, he would ensure that it was taken care of. Samson was unsure how much time had passed. Most of the stain had lifted, however, and his thigh ached where it met with his prosthetic, the wood digging against his skin with the pressure.

Footsteps against the ground made him jump, sending the rag in his hand limply to the ground. The priestess entered, rubbing at her eyes, mouth open in a long yawn. As her gaze landed on Samson, she smiled softly. “I’m happy to see you doing well, Captain Graves. I was concerned about you the last time we met.” She stepped forward, her yellow dress swaying at her ankles.

Samson sat up, leaning back on his heels. “I am alright. I’m sorry for the trouble I caused you.”

She shook her head and knelt beside him, taking the rag he had dropped. “You’re of no trouble.” The rag was set in the bucket, and when Samson reached for it once again, she pushed his hand away. “I assume you didn’t just come here to help me clean. Why don’t you come have some dinner and I’ll tell you what I’ve found.”

Samson raised his hands to decline, but she shook her head again.

“I make the best beef stew in all of Asria. Come. I won’t have you exhausting yourself here. Besides, this is no conversation to have in a temple.” She rose, taking the bucket in her hands. Samson supposed he had no other option but to follow. He kept close behind her, taking his sword from the crate as they made their way to the exit.

It had been a long time since he stayed in the temple keeper’s cabin. Just a short walk from the temple, shrouded by trees and sunflowers nearly as tall as Samson, it was a small building that didn’t fit the aesthetic of the temple well. It wasn’t a place of worship, however. It was a home. While it didn’t compare to the building beside it, it was perfectly comfortable. Before the door was even open, the scent of stew on the stove was almost overwhelming.

The keeper sat the bucket beside her doorway and entered the room. “Are you having trouble talking again?” she asked, moving toward the cupboards, turning her head to look for a response.

He nodded. “Sometimes I go so long without having to speak out loud that it becomes easier to do it this way.”

She turned, taking two bowls from the cabinet. “That makes sense. I can’t imagine that speaking out loud is much fun if it takes more of your focus to do it. My sign still isn’t perfect, so please correct me if I miss anything.” She looked back to him, and frowned when he saw him still standing. “Sit. I’ll bring this to you. Sit.” She waved toward the small wooden table across the room, and nodded in approval when Samson took a seat. “Do you intend to stay long with me?” she asked.

She placed a bowl on the table in front of Samson before taking her seat beside him.

He shook his head. “No, Miss Keeper. I will be out of your hair quickly this time.”

She tsk’d at him. “I’ve told you before you don’t need to be so formal with me. Mei is fine.” She had certainly said that. Still, it felt wrong to be so impolite with someone who did so much for him. She grinned. “You’re going to keep calling me that, though, aren’t you? That’s alright.” She let out a small sigh as Samson took a bite of the soup. “About the body.”

Samson perked up, nearly missing his mouth with the spoon.

“We were able to identify him. He was a Kremali citizen, originally from Verand. A bit down on his luck, it sounds like. It seems he lost his wife in Xiang’s independence fight.”

“That would explain some things.” It was possible he was acting alone, out of nothing more than anger toward Elias from a fight he was not at fault for. Still, that he had been there the moment Samson and Elias arrived at the temple still made him uneasy. He was so certain no one would know that Elias was on board the ship and so sure they had done a decent enough job keeping him covered at the port that no one would spot him.

The keeper offered a weak smile. “I do have one other piece of information, and I know you’re not one prone to outbursts, but I would like to ask that you’ll keep calm.” At Samson’s nod, she continued. “The corpse had several of Captain Albasha’s jewels. This would lead me to believe that he is somehow connected to this attack.”

Samson leaned back in his seat, clasping his hands tightly together. Karim had been a good ally over the last few years. He was certainly the pinnacle of a perfect pirate, brash and excited for any fight, but he had never been foolish. There was nothing he stood to gain by fighting Kremal, and even less by angering Samson. “Thank you for telling me. I will be speaking with Karim shortly.” Even if it was nothing, he needed to investigate any lead they had.

Karim was a clever man. If he had found some reason that harming Elias would be more beneficial to him than keeping Samson and Kremal on his side, he would do so without hesitation, and he wouldn’t give warning. Still, if he thought that the attempt could ever work while Samson was at His Highness’s side, he was stupid.

“I have the jewels with me if you’d like them,” the keeper said, standing. She moved to a small shelf in the corner of the room, retrieving a velvet satchel and bringing it back to him. It was clear just from the sound of the bag hitting the table that it was full of hefty objects. Karim had alway had an eye for fine jewelry, and it wouldn’t surprise Samson if he used some small pieces from his collection to pay a man for taking care of a problem for him. A bag that full could likely pay any debts the assailant had.

The only thing lost on Samson was why. What did Karim know that he didn’t? What was the advantage he had found? It wasn’t as though the man would share that with him, but there should have been some sort of clue in their last meeting. He had agreed to keep watch of the shore when Samson escaped with Elias. He had ensured their exit from the port went smoothly. But did that only serve to make it easier to track Samson and send someone of his own after them? He had known they’d be on course for Asria. It would have been easy to have someone arrive just ahead of them. And of course Karim would know Samson’s first order of business on that island. They had been to that very temple together before.

“You should finish your stew. Your mind is moving too quickly right now. You shouldn’t consider anything too rashly.”

Samson stared at the bowl before him, still halfway full. He nodded and took a bite. Acting too quickly wouldn’t bode well for any of them. Fighting with Karim was out of the question without backup, and the backup Samson relied on most was Karim himself. Fighting him alone would only end with his own crew in a perilous situation. This needed to be dealt with directly, but calmly. Samson sighed and brought the bowl to his lips, swallowing down the warm broth.

“If there is anything else I can do for you, please just say the word. You’ve been good to this temple, and I know the goddesses look favorably upon you.” She rose, taking Samson’s bowl.

He pulled a piece of paper from his pocket. “I will write to His Highness to tell him I am going to Verand for further investigations. If you could, will you ensure it is sent?”

She nodded, a smile on her lips. “Of course, Captain.”