In the dark, it was easier to sneak around. But my heartbeat still pounded fast in my ears, quick as a rabbit’s as I carefully crept along the ledge of the second story window. The open-air sanctum was enormous, and from my vantage point I could easily see inside. Now it was just a matter of getting there.
Don’t be mistaken. My desire didn’t stem from a religious fervor. I had never been particularly religious, despite being raised for the nearly eighteen years of my life in the holy citadel, but being banned from things like open prayers made me want to sneak in and see what all the fuss was about.
Being banned had its advantages, in a way. It had given me the opportunity to become adept at sneaking around, more and more like a shadow every time I left my room, sneaking in and out of crevices so soundlessly that I was never seen or heard.
It was, in many ways, how I had learned to survive, to be unseen, unheard, in order to avoid lashings from the temple’s head priest.
I reached out, gripping another stone with one gloved hand. My short, lithe form was useful for climbing, even if sometimes I wished for a little extra height—but then that would make it harder to do all this.
Flipping a lock of white hair out of my eye, I caught sight of my reflection in one of the windows: a small, olive-toned face with two very dark eyes framed by pale hair.
Quickly looking away, I continued on until I could perch on my favorite windowsill of the sanctum, sliding it open just enough that I could peek inside to watch as the priest gave his sermon.
It quickly became apparent that this was one I’d heard before, and I couldn’t help but roll my eyes. Maybe it would have been better to stay in my room. Now I had to listen to the priest drone on and on about the unborn god.
The priest lifted his head to the evening sky, where the pale, broken moon hung. This was the only time, closer to dusk, when both the broken moon and the black sun were both visible in the sky. It was the reason the head priest loved to give his sermons at this hour.
And so he can use them as he shouts about the holy mission of the Animula, with the assistance of the Tricedium—the thirteen Morti.
I rolled my eyes again, mouthing along the next lines as the priest spoke them. “We will defeat the blasphemy of the Sanguine, who would drink the blood of our fallen god to gain immortality! We will rise by the blessing of the bone! We will be victorious in the great war! Let us pray to the fallen god.”
Below me, the soldiers lined up along the rows all bowed their heads in unison, save one. The dark head turned, and I met the eyes of the soldier looking directly at me.
I tensed a little, fighting the urge to roll my eyes as he winked.
Caius. Of course he would know I’m here.
Impulsively, I jerked my head to the side, in the direction of the gardens behind the temple.
Caius gave a slight nod before turning and lowering his head to pray with the others.
***
Climbing down from the temple wall was much more difficult than finding my window ledge. It was sleek, for one, and there were barely any hand, or footholds to be found.
Up here, I could see far past the citadel walls, past the valley and even to the edges of the Wastelands—the dry, dead stretch of land that lay between Anima Mors and Vivanium, the land of the Sanguine.
I couldn’t stop the involuntary shiver that trickled up my spine. To enter the Wastelands was to sign your own death certificate.
Forcing myself to turn away from the view, I focused on climbing down, remembering the first few times I had attempted this climb, how I had almost fallen dozens of times.
But now I’m an expert. I knew exactly how many handholds there were and when I was about to hit the safety of the ground.
I was just reaching for it with my foot when someone shouted nearby. “Hey! Girl! What are you doing?”
Jumping down lithely, I turned to find one of the groundskeepers glaring at me. They never bothered to call me anything except “girl.” Unless it was “nefas,” a not-so-kind word meaning “abomination.”
I stuck my tongue out at the man and took off, heedless of his shouts as I wound my way through the hedges of the garden that circled the temple.
He was following me. I could hear him huffing not far away, and I took another turn to try to lose him. I could do it easily, and I had before.
I’ve got this. I turned back to gauge the distance when my foot hit something metal.
It was a wayward rake, and it sent me sprawling, dirt in my mouth and on my knees. Ow.
The groundskeeper was getting closer, still yelling.
By the marrow, that hurt. I leapt to my feet and raced off, trying not to freak out but failing miserably. Getting caught meant lashings from the head priest—which hurt—and this was the third time this month I had been seen scaling the walls of the temple.
The sudden ringing of the bells, signaling the end of the sermon, had me running even faster, making a beeline for the exit of the temple just as the soldiers began spilling out.
Not pausing for a second, I wove through the crowd.
“Hey!”
“Watch out!”
I ignored their calls, not chancing a look back as the groundskeeper’s voice trailed behind me.
“Stop!”
Still weaving through the crowd, I grabbed a cloak off one of the smaller soldiers, disregarding his indignant shout as I swept it over myself in one smooth motion and melted into the crowd.
Spotting Caius talking to another soldier, I sidled up to him, tapping on his shoulder.
He spun around, his eyes widening as he took me in. I lifted a finger to my lips. Don’t overreact or we’re both screwed.
He bit his lips, his eyes narrowing with suspicion. Not waiting another second, I grabbed his hand and pulled him through the crowd.
“What are you doing out in the open?” he whispered. “You know you’ll get in trouble if one of the priests see you.”
Yes, just like I had gotten in trouble so many times before. “Well, I had to get away from the groundskeeper. He caught me climbing the wall first.”
Caius groaned. “Nepha!”
I shrugged. “You going to help me or not?”
Before he could answer, the groundskeeper’s voice rang through the crowd. “Have you seen that stupid girl coming through here?”
Caius rolled his eyes and slapped his hand on my back, as if we were old soldier friends. “Larius, you always want to go to the gardens for more prayer. I guess this time I’ll go with you. I should learn to be as pious as you.”
He pushed me toward the gardens, and we hurried away. As soon as we were among the tall hedges and away from prying eyes, I pulled off the cloak and turned to Caius. “Well, we made it.”
He shook his head, but there was laughter in his beautiful brown eyes. Eyes that glowed with life.
A life that I’ve touched. I squeezed my fists closed as they tingled slightly at the memory, flashes of images appearing in my mind: a fall from a tree, a neck broken at a morbid angle, tears, desperation…and then life again. Something that should have been impossible without the bone of the old god. Something that made me a prisoner in my own land, that made the years weigh on me heavily at times.
I closed my eyes and shook my head, forcing a smile for Caius. Caius, my one and only friend. And the boy I had loved for as long as I could remember.
Not that I would ever tell him that. I had no idea how he would react, and I was afraid to find out. It wasn’t worth risking our friendship anyway. Not even if some days I couldn’t help but imagine what it would be like to have his hand grasping mine, his lips on my lips…
He leaned down a little closer, and I was suddenly acutely aware of his full lips just a breath from my own, filling my vision. He’s really making it hard to focus on friendship.
“I’m glad you came out, actually,” he said softly. “Saved me from having to find you.”
I tried to calm my rapidly beating heart, to no avail. Could he hear it? It was so quiet in the hedges, so quiet I could have easily imagined we were the only two people in the world.
Swallowing, I looked up at him. “Why?”
“Because I have something I want to tell you. Something very important.”
He leaned in even closer, and my heart leapt. Is he…about to finally kiss me?
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