A Hand Weaving Chaos (Book 2 of The Fallen Gods Trilogy)

CHAPTER TWELVE

Once again, Jill found Droxanne sitting quietly by the hearth when she woke the next morning. The priestess marked her place in her book, beamed at Jill, then began the laborious process of getting Jill ready for the day—preparing a bath, serving breakfast, and making sure she had clothes to wear. The clothes turned out to be another grey dress. Jill couldn't tell if it was the dress from yesterday or a new one. They all looked the same. I guess novice robes aren't meant for fashion, Jill decided when she slipped the outfit over her still damp hair.

Though Droxanne had been assigned to Jill while she remained in the temple compound, Jill now found the woman's presence confining. Droxanne felt like a jailer and she wondered if the priestess noted her every move and reported back to Cosette. Which was crazy. She wasn't that paranoid. Not yet anyway. Still, after yesterday's episode in the temple and Cosette's subsequent barrage of questions that lasted well into the night, she suspected she might be better off with Tamas in the Inbastra. At least he knew when to shut up. Cosette still had yet to learn that valuable lesson.

Then, as if Droxanne had read her mutinous thoughts she said, "Now if you'll wait here, I believe priestess Cosette would like to speak with you. A moment and I'll be back with her."

Jill stared at the priestess' returning back. Wait for Cosette to arrive? Like hell I will.

A second later, Jill crept from her room and bolted down the hall in the opposite direction. Rather than face Cosette's seething anger and endless criticism, she opted to avoid the situation altogether. Astera couldn't possibly condone Cosette's bullying, could she? Yet why could Cosette get away with such nonsense? Theirs was a difficult relationship to understand and Jill didn't have the desire to probe further. She had more pressing things demanding her attention.

After all, today was her execution day.

Stopping a young red robed priestess scurrying by, Jill asked, "Could you please tell me where I can find Mical?"

The girl looked up to Jill and blanched, her eyes widening. Twice she swallowed, unable to speak and utterly awed. Apparently news travels fast in the temple. Was there anyone who didn't know about last night?

"No, my lady. I haven't seen him. I don't know—"

As if on cue, Mical suddenly rounded the corner, talking earnestly with the Shey'na'cala, Etienne. Mical gestured widely with his hand while Etienne nodded. Relieved, Jill let the priestess go and stopped the two men short.

"My lady!" Etienne exclaimed. "It's good to see you this morning."

"Thank you. You too." She whirled to Mical. "You have to take me to Valinac. Please. It's urgent."

And Mical looked down at her from his enormous height, reminding her so much of Rafe. "No."

"What?"

"I visited the temple last night. Beautiful, Jill. Absolutely beautiful."

"Thank you but—"

"And that's why you're not leaving the compound," Mical finished.

"But—"

"He's right. Here within the temple wards is the safest place for you," Etienne said, his voice gentle and smile sympathetic.

With Cosette on the hunt for her? That was debatable. "But I need to get to Valinac."

Mical shook his head. "You know how significant this day is as well as I do. That's why you're not leaving."