Page 59

Brynla

The fire flickers in the distance, reflecting on the black surface.

“The cistern,” I whisper, keeping my chin above water as the dread in my gut grows larger. “They keep torches lit so we can check on the water. There’s usually no one there, though, only in the mornings to light the torch. There will be a door to the side right next to it.”

The stream collects in the cistern while a small channel of it runs off into the caverns, continuing the journey into Lerick. For a moment I wonder if we should have focused our revenge on the Saints of Fire and the Esland government. We could have so easily poisoned the water supply.

But then I remember that there are families just like the one I had, and though I am prepared to kill in self-defense, I’m not about to take the lives of innocent civilians.

We swim across the round opening and haul ourselves up the metal steps. Buckets and other collection materials line the cistern, some on rails that dip into the water, others hanging from pulleys.

The three of us sit on the rocky side, catching our breath, relieved that we’re no longer in the water.

All my exposed skin is absolutely wrinkled like a prune and I would love nothing more than to take off the wet leather armor, which is a hundred times heavier now.

But we have a schedule to keep and I feel that the journey took us longer already than it should have.

“Are you ready?” I ask the guys after a moment.

Andor puts his hand on my shoulder. “Brynla, we don’t need to rush into this. You almost drowned back there. And I know how close this whole situation is to you. It’s all right if you want to take a bit of time to—”

“No,” I say quickly. “We have to get moving. You know we do. And more than that, if I spend another minute here, I might lose my nerve.” I don’t want to admit how close I am to just throwing myself back in the springs and letting them take me all the way to the ocean.

He stares at me for a moment with a rumpled look on his face, then leans forward and grabs the back of my head, giving me a quick kiss on the forehead.

“You’re so very fucking brave. I hope you know that.

I hope you know how impressed I am by you, how we all are.

We couldn’t do this without you, lavender girl. None of us could.”

My throat feels thick at his words. I don’t even know what to say.

“Wow,” he says quietly, flashing me a smile. “She’s speechless. I can count on one hand how many times I’ve made you at a loss for words.”

“Don’t push your luck,” I tell him, getting to my feet. I cringe at the water squishing at the bottom of my boots. But if everything goes as planned, I won’t be in these wet clothes for long.

I walk to the door, stepping aside for Andor as he puts his ear against it to listen.

“I don’t hear anything,” he whispers. “You sure this is a safe place to enter?”

I nod and look at Kirney. “Are you dry enough to check the map?”

Kirney reaches for the small satchel at his side and unsnaps it, pulling out a small cylinder made of reeds found in the marshes around Stormglen that Steiner had discovered act as a waterproofer.

Kirney takes the leather cork off and pulls out the map.

We’ve looked at it a lot already, this cruddy map of the convent I drew from memory, but it doesn’t hurt to have a refresher now that we’re here.

I point to an X at the bottom. “This is where we are. It opens into the cellar and cold storage. Only the cooks would be here in the morning and then before supper. They don’t linger here, though; they get the food and then they head back up to the kitchen.”

“But we don’t know what time it is,” Andor points out. “It might be just before suppertime.”

“If it’s quiet, then I think we’re fine.

” I turn my attention back to the map. “After we leave the cold storage, we head up the servants’ stairs back here.

These are Daughters of Silence, working for the convent.

Even if we come upon them, they won’t scream.

The punishment for making a sound is worse than what we’ll do to them, and they know it.

It goes without saying, please refrain from killing anyone unless you absolutely have to. ”

“That’s where I come in,” Kirney says as he pushes his thumb into his chest, reminding me of his gift, which isn’t just strength and fantastic aim but the ability to disarm people temporarily by pressing his thumb into their exposed skin. Apparently it doesn’t work on dredgers, though.

“Right,” I say. “Let’s always let Kirney disarm people when he can. These Daughters are just like me, stuck in something with no escape. I don’t want any harm to come to them.”

“But the Harbringer…” Andor says with a wicked gleam in his eye.

“The Harbringer is all mine, if I even get the chance,” I tell him.

“The priority is the egg.” I point at the map again.

“The servants’ stairs will get us to this level, where one of the chapels is and where the Sisters of the Highest Order, the fully veiled ones, pray most of the day.

With any luck I’ll get one and will be able to disguise myself in the veil and get myself to the Harbringer’s chambers, where I know she keeps rare artifacts for herself.

I know the egg is there, it has to be.” I point at them.

“By the chapel is where I’ll say goodbye to you.

There are many statues of dragons in those halls to sneak behind, and it’s barely lit, always dark and shadowy.

You’ll have no problem hiding out there, but I’m afraid if you try to venture any further, you will be found. Kirney’s thumb can’t sedate them all.”

“I can try,” Kirney says good-naturedly.

“It will turn into a bloodbath and you know it,” Andor tells him before leaning his ear against the door again. “Still nothing. I think we should move.”

I nod and put my hand on the metal handle, slowly turning it.

I poke my head out into a dark room with an oil lamp in the corner, illuminating the stores of vegetables, fruits, and other food.

The smell of the convent, those damned fermented herbs that permeated my life for years, immediately hits my nostrils and I almost choke on it.

The scent probably isn’t that strong, but my body wants nothing to do with it.

“Easy now,” Andor whispers, briefly touching my hand. Then he reaches down and slides a sword from my sheath and places it in my palm. “You can’t expect not to use this.”

I grip the hilt. He’s right. I have to be prepared.

We walk across the cellar, following the map, which Kirney keeps in his other hand, stopping every now and then to peer into a dark corner and to listen for footsteps or voices of the superiors.

So far it’s as quiet as a mouse, though once we reach the staircase, that changes.

Because the staircase is carved in stone and goes up several levels, every noise echoes.

Doors bang as servants come and go, and the occasional hush of the Sisters gossiping flows down the stairwell toward us.

We stop every time, waiting for the right moment to continue, and we’re only a floor away from where we’ll exit when suddenly the door bangs shut right beneath us and the sound of footsteps gets closer, closing the gap.

I stare down at Andor and Kirney on the steps beneath me, wide-eyed, swords clenched, then start running up the steps to the next floor as quickly as I can.

I reach it, Andor and Kirney behind me, quick and light on their feet, and just as I’m reaching for the handle the door swings inward, almost hitting me.

One the servants steps out, her robe black to signify her servitude, her hood back showcasing close-cropped hair, which means she hasn’t been a servant very long.

She opens her mouth to scream but I quickly put my finger to my mouth to warn her and yank her inside the stairwell, shutting the door behind her. I push her up against the wall, my sword automatically pressed against her throat like a reflex.

“Don’t say a word, Daughter,” I whisper. “You know what they’ll do to you.”

I glance behind me at Andor and Kirney just in time to see a servant on the landing below carrying a stack of books.

She drops them when she sees the men, and Kirney has to act fast, jumping down the flight of stairs and jamming his thumb against her throat before she can scream.

Her eyes roll back in her head and she collapses into his arms. He swiftly lowers her to the floor in a heap.

The woman I’m holding whimpers.

I give her a warning look. “She’s not dead and you won’t be either as long as you comply,” I tell her, but the fear in her eyes says she might act without thinking.

When Daughters graduate they still have to take a vow of silence, but they’re allowed to grow their hair and eyebrows back, which makes me think this girl is still new to the order.

She lets out another pitiful whine and when I press the blade against her throat, she opens her mouth and shows me…

Nothing.

Her tongue has been cut out.

I swallow hard, feeling nauseated.

“Brynla, we have to keep moving, let Kirney handle her,” Andor whispers to me. Then he glances at the girl’s open mouth. “Fucking drages, she has no tongue.”

“Is this what they do when you become a servant?” I ask her frantically. “Is this what they do now to the Daughters of Silence? Do they cut out your tongue?”

She nods, tears streaming down her face, her lips quivering as they close.

“Fuck,” I swear. I feel stretched too thin, my whole body starting to shake. They had threatened a few times that perhaps harsher discipline would be needed one day for all the Daughters, a way to guarantee their servitude to the convent after graduation.

“Brynla,” Andor says again, moving to the side as Kirney comes up to my left and quickly reaches over and presses his thumb against the girl’s forehead. She immediately slumps against me and I let her sink down against the wall.