Then a loud cawing sound breaks my concentration and I snap my gaze up—
Just in time for a black bird to swoop down and peck me in the forehead.
I cry out, wailing, flailing, and run away. I don’t bother to see if the children are following—I know they will. They always do. They’re so malleable, so easy to conquer.
Something like a flock of birds follows us out of the forest, and I begin to think I’m cursed. First it was the mice, then the wolves, now the birds. The gods-damned countryside is coming alive to thwart our escape.
Another test by the True. That is all it is. Surely.
Ahead, a fine building sits in the sunlight, gleaming like a ghastly light tower. Its white walls reflect the sun. It rises many stories high, a towering beacon calling to me.
I smile.Salvation at last!
The word sticks in my mind. That’s all this can be, surely—a reward for braving the challenges the Truehearts have thrust at me over the past day and a half.
Our group stumbles onto the manor’s property. It seems abandoned. Quiet. The hedges have gone awry, overgrown and twisting like spider legs across a cobblestone courtyard. A statue in the center of the courtyard of a urinating angel is no longer urinating, long since gone to ruin.
This place feels like it hasn’t been inhabited in months.
Perfect for us to hide away and bide time until we’re safe,I think. I need a plan, and having four walls surrounding us will present the perfect opportunity to build one.
Rushing through the courtyard, past the overwrought foyer, we come to the front entrance, gaining a set of stairs. The children stumble along behind me, all of them weary and exhausted from lack of proper sleep and nutrition.
At least here we can forage. Surely there are edible plants we can eat surrounding the manor in the vast countryside that stretches as far as the eye can see in every direction. This place will provide me privacy, too, where I can flagellate and purify myself while the whelps become reliant on me.
I knock loudly on the door. “Hello?! Is anyone in here?” My voice is raspy and thick from disuse.
I try the door, pushing violently, but it doesn’t budge. Someone has locked it.
My shoulders sink. My hope dwindles, and I wonder if this is another test from the True.It must be.
Just as I turn around to mope down the staircase, gripping the hands of the children closest to me, I hear ashlick—a sliding lock.
My heart soars to my throat.Thank the True! I never doubted you, spirits!
The door creaks open. The face on the other side startles me because it is pale like a vampire’s . . . and yet kind. Not fully degraded in that unholy way all vampires share.A half-blood, I suppose.Bald-headed, with a smile across his face. He looks quite young himself, not more than twenty-five summers under his belt. Strong, wiry, and fit. A handsome man with a kind smile and a bald head.
“Please, my lord,” I beg, rushing forward, folding my palms together. “My children and I pray for your support. We are lost, famished, and exhausted.”
The man’s elegant brow furrows. “You are a priest of Nuhav? A Trueheart?”
I know my future relies on my answer. Yet I cannot lie. My robes speak for me, my oaths bind me. “I am. Archpriest of the diocese of Nuhav.” I speak more firmly now, wondering if I’ve answered correctly, and if my words will tilt him one way or the other.
He widens the door, stepping out of the way and into the ostentatious mansion. “Quite good, Father. I myself lived in Nuhav for many, many years. Don’t let the pale skin deter you.” He keeps a handsome smile plastered on his face, gesturing into the foyer with an inviting sweep of his hand. “Please come in. Welcome to Manor Marquin.”
Chapter 53
Sephania
We funnel our burgeoning army into the southeastern tunnels that feed out of the Olhavian Peaks and into Nuhav. The same tunnels the Trueheart scum have been using to send their wayward flock to the Faith Ward in Olhav, for whatever diabolical purposes Valenthia Yurlyth wanted to use them for.
Before daylight springs, as the sky turns gray and orange with a soon-to-be sun, we return to the Firehold. Bruised, bloodied, limping. But victorious. Triumphant. Hardly a man can keep their head from lolling with exhaustion upon our return.
The army disperses into the city with their recovered children, relatives, friends, and citizens. Our leadership team descends into the Firehold, back where we belong in the darkness.
I can instantly tell something is off when we descend the ladder. My mind is hardly working from tiredness, everything feels hazy. But it sharpens into focus abruptly once we’re inside the main circular cave that leads deeper into the hold.
There’s tension in the stuffy air, heavier than usual. None of the usual greeters like Aleth or Tecca are here to welcome us home as champions. There’s asmellcloying sweetly, and it feels powerful and unwelcome.