Page 10 of Insolence (Eisha’s Hidden Codices #1)

Itissa

B uried nose-deep in the book, I rely on my peripheral vision to wander into the closest alcove between bookcases. I sink into a plush leather chair, sweat breaking out on my scalp and the small of my back. I unfasten my heavy cloak with trembling fingers, shrugging it off.

I’m so engrossed, I’m not aware of her before it’s too late. She clears her throat.

The unexpected figure sitting across from me is jarring enough. Realizing the figure is Elodie while the gut-twisting pull springs up between us is enough to shock me senseless.

Yelping, I jerk backward, sending the book flying from my hand. It clatters across the floor, coming to rest at her feet.

“Damn it.” I dive to retrieve it, hoping it isn’t damaged.

I don’t register Elodie bending to grab it herself until it’s too late. Our skulls clunk together with a sickening crack.

“Fuck!” she cries.

“Gods! I’m so sorry. Are you all right?”

“Are you all right?” She’s clutching her forehead and watching me like she’s not entirely sure what to make of me.

“I’ll survive, thank you.” Agony pounds through my head, embarrassment flushing my cheeks. “I can go somewhere else.”

“No. You don’t have to leave. May I take a look at you?” She’s already leaning forward, her hands moving to my forehead. Her intoxicating fragrance fills the space between us. “A poultice will help with that bruise forming. It’s already starting to swell.”

You blow hot and cold, don’t you, priestess? “I’m fine,” I mumble as my nerve endings sing to the tips of my fingers and toes.

I’m rooted in place, held captive by her touch and the tugging behind my navel. For a moment everything bleeds together until I can’t tell where she ends and I begin.

My focus narrows, the world around us going hazy. Without warning, I’m imagining her dragging me up, bending me over her knees, and throwing the hem of my dress over my hips.

I shudder internally, yearning to scream, to hurl curses at her, until she drags me out of here—or takes me, putting me out of my misery.

My breath comes fast and far too shallow. I have no idea why this nonsense is flashing through my head, but it scares the everloving shit out of me.

Who the hell was I in my past life?

My inexplicable urges are staggering. I wish I could cut them out of me; I fear if I don’t, they’ll tear me apart.

I snap out of it when she releases me, her nose wrinkling. Eyes narrowed, she jerks back as if I’ve suddenly become repugnant. As if she needs to exit my proximity as quickly as possible, but she’s the one who invited me to stay!

The warmth of her touch still hums on my skin as I snatch the book, get to my feet, and settle into the chair again.

Her next words are cold and clinical, her mask firmly in place: “Promise me you’ll tell a sister if you experience any confusion, disorientation, nausea—”

I blurt sarcastic laughter before I can rein it in. “Yes, I’ve had all of that. Who am I again? Where did I come from?” My pulse is pounding between my legs, and I hate her a little bit because of it. “Don’t get me started on the nausea.”

She sighs. “I’m worried you might have a mild concussion.”

“Oh, so you mean worse than normal, then.”

“Head injuries are serious, Tiss.” She pins me with that glare again—the one that cleaves me to the core and leaves me defenseless.

Gods help me, the tiniest thrill runs through me at the pique my impertinence has caused. “I said my head is fine.”

“At least tell someone if you experience any dizziness or blurred vision. That you suspect isn’t related to the elevation,” she tacks on hastily.

“A sister is the absolute last person I’d tell about anything.”

“Tell me, then.”

Frustration floods me, searing hot and ticking in time with the orrery.

“ Why ? I thought we weren’t friends. Why on earth you’re fretting over me is a mystery.

But sure. If you say so.” Gods only know what possessed me to speak to her like this.

Why not, though? Because she thinks she’s better than me?

To her, I’m just another new initiate grunt. I suppose I’m meant to tolerate her mood swings on any given day, no matter what.

She folds her hands in her lap. “I happen to be a proficient forager, since you’re so curious.

I’m more than capable of mixing simple medicines.

And we don’t need to be friends for me to help when you’re hurt.

Most folks call that having compassion.” She answers with more restraint than I deserve, and I resent the shit out of her for it.

There’s an acid retort sitting on the tip of my tongue, but I swallow it, hitting her with an overly saccharine smile instead. “I was wondering about something, priestess. Call it intuition.”

“Mm-hmm?”

“You and Ghisele. There seems to be chemistry there. You two don’t have a history together, do you?” Something inside of me erupts in devious mirth as soon as I say it. I hold my breath, expecting shock, or defensiveness, or at the very least to be told to leave.

But she merely inclines her head, her gaze like ice water sluicing through my veins. “Would that bother you?” she asks, an infuriating lilt lacing her tone. “If we did?”

The fact that the cagey priestess won’t just give me a simple “no” when it’s the easiest answer—not to mention what I’m brazenly implying is forbidden —has me burning with jealousy. “ No . Why would I be bothered?”

The corners of her mouth twitch, as if she expected me to say exactly that. “It’s just, you seem bothered. Is all.”

Gods, she’s insufferable.

Light pours through the window in our nook, bringing out the glowing warm undertones of her bronze complexion. Darker green rings circle her caramel irises, the contrast striking in this light.

Her stillness is exasperating. Blood surging in my ears, I gaze outside, utterly blind to whatever lies beyond the glass.

I’ve finally decided to get up and find Sadrie when she murmurs, “What had you so captivated?”

Perplexed, I stare until she motions to the book in my hand. Oh. “Myths.”

“What sort of myths?”

Standing on inexplicably shaky knees, I close the distance between us and hold out the volume in offering. She reaches to take it.

Looking her dead in her lovely, liquid-agate eyes, I let it go before she can grab it, before I can think my actions through. My stomach flips as it lands on the floor at her feet with an echoing clap .

Wow. I’m a passive-aggressive shrew when I want to be.

I stand by it, though. Like a gyroscope set into motion, my own axis is now consumed in a momentum that will resist attempts to change its course.

A muscle spasms in her jaw, and I await her counterattack with bated breath. But instead of getting upset, she casually bends down to pick it up.

Leafing through the pages, mask still firmly in place, she says, “It’s in Aritertan.”

Not. Fair. I glower until it’s apparent I won’t get a further reaction. “Apparently I’m multilingual.”

I pretend to focus on something outside of the window, disappointed ire gushing through me.

“You must have been well-educated.” Her tone is mild, but her eyes on me are palpable.

“Why are you looking at me like that?”

“No reason. What do you care where I look?”

I stew on that for a moment. “Can you read it?”

“No. And you don’t need to pout, Tiss.”

I’m NOT pouting. I stiffen, paralyzed, and grit out, “Do you know other languages of any sort?”

“No.” She gives a low chuckle. A quick shake of her head sends her jewelry jingling before she rises to her feet. “Put your cloak on. I want to show you something.” She snatches up her own cloak and takes off without waiting for my answer.

Curiosity overrides my irritation, and I throw mine over my shoulders. Once outdoors, the high priestess roams away from the tower, watching the skies and whistling a long note that dips down at the end.

After several rounds of whistling, I’m still waiting for something to happen. “Any chance that—”

She holds a hand up, and I seethe in response.

She whistles again, louder and longer. This time it’s answered by a brief, throaty shriek that rings out from high above us.

A magnificent black bird wheels into view, making a lazy circle above the lawn.

Smiling, Elodie holds up her arm, whistling high and low notes in quick succession.

The bird plummets acrobatically before landing on her outstretched forearm with gentle precision.

“Hello, Bibi!” says Elodie.

“Hello, Bibi! Hello, Bibi!” echoes the bird, perfectly imitating the high priestess’s voice and folding its great wings. It bobs its sleek head and marches side to side on her arm, doing a funny little dance.

All right. That’s more than a little impressive. I giggle like a moron.

“This is Bibi.”

Bibi hello Bibi s several more times, and I can’t stop myself from grinning. “I see that. What a beautiful crow.”

“Raven. Crows are quite a bit smaller and don’t have this shaggy beard under their beaks.

” She scratches Bibi’s fluffy neck feathers.

The creature puffs them up as if enjoying showing off.

“Although both crows and ravens can mimic human speech, other bird calls, and different types of animal sounds. Even mechanical noises and music.”

“I stand corrected,” I say, begrudgingly impressed with her bird facts. “Can I have a pet raven, too?”

The priestess recoils like I struck her. “No! She’s a wild animal. Not a pet.” She gazes fondly at Bibi. “I’ll admit she’s pretty tame, but I never dreamed of keeping her in captivity once she could fly.”

Elodie tells me about finding her injured and alone as a baby, up by the Observatory.

She thinks it was a hawk attack that killed Bibi’s mother and left Bibi with a broken wing, but she can’t be sure.

“I took care of her and nursed her injuries. We bonded as a result.” She strokes Bibi’s sleek head.

The creature cozies up comfortably to her touch.

I want to be that bird .

Wait a minute .