Page 30 of Tree of Ash (The Runic Saga #2)

Stone Steps and Barn Ladders

Halla

“Keep up, Halla!” Saessae called after Halla stopped yet again.

But Halla couldn’t stop gawking at the shops that lined the cobblestone streets.

It was one thing for jewelry to shine, but Halla couldn’t understand how even the clothes shimmered in the sunlight.

The clothes were forgotten at the smell of freshly baked pastries coming from an open door.

Halla peeked her head in, just quickly enough to catch sight of the strawberry-and-cream cake sitting on the counter.

Drool gathered in her mouth, but the sweet melody of a song turned her head in another direction.

She couldn’t see anyone playing an instrument and only then realized it was floating from a speaker within a shop.

The sight of her reflection contrasted against a black wig displayed in the next window sent Halla scurrying after Saessae.

The world of the aristocracy was entirely different from the world she’d grown up in.

At first, Halla hadn’t known how she would pass the time waiting for night when she could go and check on Kai, but Saessae had the perfect distraction.

She accompanied the other girl down the streets of the Court of the Aristocracy, always several steps behind.

Though she was careful to keep her eyes down as they passed other high-ranking members of the city, Halla drank in as much of her surroundings as she could.

The only thing that dampened her spirits was the metal bracelets biting into her wrists. Slaves were not allowed outside their master’s home without them.

Throughout the inner section of the city, the icons of Vor—the goddess of wisdom—were more prominent than those in the outer section.

Though Halla had most often seen the statues of Vor as an elderly woman blindfolded, here she was represented in her youth, her eyes staring at Halla with the blindfold hanging from her open palms. It wasn’t only Vor but also Njorer, Tyr, Ieunn, Hel, and even Loki that decorated their path.

“Saessae,” Halla whispered. “Why are there so many more statues here than in the outer city?”

Saessae lifted her gloved hand, pointing slightly at the simple yet elegant building erected at the end of the lane. It was built with three sections of triangular rooftops on top of each other. The stone steps bore painted golden runes that led up to the doors.

“What is it?” Halla asked.

Saessae spared a glance that Halla was beginning to recognize whenever she asked a question she should know the answer to if she’d grown up in the city. “It’s the temple of the Hoorg.”

Halla’s mouth parted, remembering the little Kai had told her.

The man with the runic tattoos—Brother Gorthr—belonged to the Hoorg.

Halla shivered. Kai may have reassured her they did not perform human sacrifices, but she had no desire to test his accuracy.

She bowed her head as several aristocrats exited the building, waiting until they’d passed to ask Saessae, “Why are we here?”

“Worship.” Saessae’s voice wobbled. “It’s something I would do with my mother.”

Halla nearly reached out to comfort her, but the throbbing on her neck was enough to still her hand.

On padded footsteps, she followed Saessae into the cool dimness of the temple.

There were even more statues within than without.

Though Halla had grown up praying to the gods, there was something unsettling about the sculptures.

There was no kindness in Ieunn’s face. Hel sneered in satisfaction.

Tyr threatened all who passed by with the chains that had once bound Fenrir.

In the center of the temple, a gnarled tree stretched for the high ceilings.

Its roots cocooned into thick coils near the base and broke the tile surrounding it.

Figures in brown robes strode here and there, but Halla’s anxiety peaked at the sight of a familiar man dressed in long white robes and tattooed with runes.

“Brother Gorthr,” Saessae greeted the man with obvious familiarity.

“A delight to see you, Miss Saessae.” He inclined his head, but his eyes strayed to Halla. “The gods have caused our paths to cross again.”

Before Halla could figure out if she was meant to respond, Saessae spoke. “Thank you for bringing me Halla. The gods are generous.”

“Only to those who serve faithfully. Perhaps one day you will join us in our worship.”

Saessae’s eyes glimmered, but her lips turned downward. “I don’t think my father would approve.”

“No one can deny the gods.” He spoke lightly, but Halla shivered at what felt like a threat beneath the man’s words, drawing his attention. “Your new slave—”

“Companion,” Saessae corrected.

His gaze flickered to the metal bracelets on Halla’s wrists. “Your new companion has not been purified. She ought to remain outside while you conduct your worship.”

“Of course, Brother Gorthr. Wait for me outside, Halla, and don’t talk to anyone.”

There was no unkindness in Saessae’s command, and Halla slid out without complaint, grateful for the sun that chased away the shadows of the temple.

She moved to the side of the building behind the bushes to avoid the aristocrats that passed through the entrance.

In the sudden silence, Halla realized how alone she was.

She hadn’t been alone since Fenris had captured her.

She wore no chains; only her branding and bracelets marked her for what she was.

For the wildest moment, Halla imagined running down the cobblestone street, never stopping until she found her way out of the city and back to Larissa.

Her neck tingled, and she nearly cried out at the remembered pain of the hot iron against her skin.

She shook where she stood, knowing she’d never make it past the Second Wall.

Besides, she couldn’t leave without Kai.

She leaned against the wall of the temple, sliding down to rest against it, hidden from those that passed just on the other side of the foliage. A butterfly fluttered from petal to petal on the flowers in front of her. Halla dipped her chin to her knees.

“Sister Wren, what is troubling you?”

Halla stiffened at the deep voice just beyond the bushes.

“Nothing,” a high voice squeaked.

Pacing footsteps crunched the leaves on the ground. Through branches and leaves, Halla caught sight of the brown robes of the Hoorg’s members. Hidden as she was, they could not see her, but she could hear them.

“Sister, tell me.”

The pacing stopped. “I can’t sleep. I see the city, but in my dreams, Perle burns. And we burn with her.”

“If that is the will of the gods—”

“I must speak with Regent Hammon and warn him—”

“No.” The voice was firm. “Brother Gorthr has warned us to keep our visions to ourselves for now.”

“But, we serve Regent Hamm—”

“We do not serve Regent Hammon,” a new voice interrupted. Halla recognized it immediately as Brother Gorthr.

She leaned in toward the bushes, peering through the gaps between the foliage to see the speakers bow at Gorthr’s arrival. Their folded hands were decorated in similar runes to his. Halla didn’t understand. What was the point of the runes if they couldn’t wield galdr ?

“Remember, Sister Wren,” said Gorhr, “we serve the gods. Let’s go and discuss this vision of yours. Brother Brunnen, please escort Sister Wren to my office.”

The taller of the two led the smaller away, but Gorthr remained. He stepped closer to the bushes where Halla hid, holding her breath until her lungs ached for mercy and her body trembled. She pulled at her metal bracelets, hoping the pain would chase away the fear.

“I know you’re there,” he said.

Halla inhaled sharply, springing to her feet. Before she could escape, his hand clasped around her elbow, yanking her through the bushes to his side.

“Let me go,” she spat through her teeth, hissing at the pain in her neck.

“Be still, or I’ll call for a sentry.”

The threat was evident even in the calmness of his voice. Halla stilled instantly, but she couldn’t help the tremors that coursed through her. Though she knew she shouldn’t, Halla’s eyes followed the trail of runes that peeked out of the man’s collar and wound up and around his head.

His dark eyes narrowed. “Why would the gods be interested in you?”

“What are you talking about?” Halla resisted the urge to pull away, feeling Gorthr’s nails scraping her skin.

“I was sent a note to collect you from the barracks and bring you into the city from one of the gods’ trusted. There are hundreds of unlucky children in those barracks.” He lowered his face to hers, seeming to seek out the secrets of her soul. “What makes you so special?”

“Nothing!” she squeaked. “There’s nothing special about me!” As she said the words, Halla deflated. It was the truth. If she’d been born like Larissa or Anara, she wouldn’t be so helpless. The thought drove the fight from her body.

“Halla!” Saessae’s faint call came from the front of the temple.

Gorthr released her elbow, straightening his spine. “I very much doubt that. We’ll see what the gods have planned for you.”

Though Saessae called again, Halla’s feet were cemented by the ominous undertones in his words.

“Your mistress calls. Run along. I’m sure we’ll see one another again soon.”

As if Gorthr’s words had commanded the ground to release her feet, Halla ran.

As Halla rounded the temple’s corner, she knew she’d been gone too long. Apprehension and uncertainty marred Saessae’s heart-shaped face. “Where were you?”

“I—” Halla’s words died in her throat. Though Saessae had been kind, Halla could practically hear Larissa screaming at her to not trust others so easily.

Besides, there was something about the tattooed man that made Halla’s mouth seal shut.

“I was waiting on the side of the temple. I didn’t want to get in the way. ”

“Oh.” Relief washed over Saessae’s face. “We’d better get back if you want to see your friend tonight.”