Page 103 of The Lost Reliquary

It doesn’t even pour.

And in the moment when I try to sort out that mystery, I realize something pretty darn important: I felt nothing when Tempestra-Innara appeared. No limb-trembling rush of divinity. No warmth from the light I crave nearly as much right now as my freedom.

Nothing.

When I look again, the Goddess is gone. Instead, in their place, is Avery.

And Rion.

They both smile, as if pleased.

I look down. The reliquary is gone, replaced by an empty, utterly normal bottle that slips from my fingers and clunks against the stone floor before rolling away.

No…

A minute ago, I saw a reliquary. And a goddess, clear as anything before me right now.

“Godsdamned it, did youdrugme?” I yank the note from my jacket and toss it away before wiping my fingers on my pants. I learned about things like that, potions that could be soaked into paper before—

“No one drugged you, Lys.”

Rion is calm. Too calm.

“Then what the hell did I just see?” I step back as they approach, drawing my sickles. “No. You stay over there.”

“Lys, please.” Avery stops, holds his hands up in a placating gesture. “I know that was upsetting, but…”

“We needed to be sure,” Rion finishes.

We.“You’re with the heretics.”

“Oh yes.” Rion laughs at some joke I’m clearly not party to. “Very much so.”

I’m beginning to have regrets about this meeting. Unfortunately, the stony labyrinth prevents any storming out.

“Please,” Rion implores. “Follow me and we’ll have a chat. Just like at my shop. We even have tea.”

Every extremely confused fiber of my being wants to refuse. But… “Given the chances of me finding my way out of here alone, I don’t have much of a choice, do I?” Rion says nothing, though he glances meaningfully at my weapons. I sheathe them.

Appeased, Rion turns, presses the stone I saw ripple like muddy water only minutes ago. A door depresses and slides to one side, a clever bit of engineering. Avery goes first, then Rion, beckoning me. Hesitantly, I follow. We enter another chamber, with a mosaic floor and carved walls, oil lamps in cerulean glass hanging from the ceiling. More than just another piece of the Salt Goddess’s old stomping grounds, this chamber has the feel of being regularly utilized. That sensation deepens thanks to the figures lining the walls. I nearly mistake them for statues, until I see one of them shift. They are robed in gray, faces veiled, offering absolutely nothing about their identities.

“Well, this is creepy as fuck.” My hands itch to draw my sickles again. “Are we having a party?”

“They all wanted to see you,” says Avery.

“To see proof that you are who we say you are. Please,” says Rion. “Show them.”

“Are you kidding me?”Proof.The heretics who still have faith in gods who have been dead for centuries aren’t willing to extend me the same belief. I scowl. Rion and Avery wait. So, I give in, calling theflame. “Will this do?” I brandish the pathetic flicker, turning so no one misses out.

A sense of wonder and relief—of hope—suddenly fills the chamber. One of the heretics lets out a joyous laugh, which deepens my annoyance. I close my hand, smothering what I’ve summoned.

“Thank you,” says Rion.

There’s a table in the center of the chamber, a more recent addition than the rest of the décor, with the promised tea and cups. Rion and Avery sit, gesturing for me to do the same.

I obey but wave away the drink. Maybe they haven’t drugged me yet, but no sense giving them any new chances.

“Okay, I followed. Proved who I was. Now, what the hell just happened?”