Nightsworn | The Whispering Wall #2

Two: The Long Path

The catacombs under Kiel's house temple had always been a comfort. They were quiet and serene, the only company the dead and those who cared for them, and Deladrina saw the winding, echoing tunnels as her home.

"There are three new charges today," Cleric Maniel said. Dela and two other acolytes followed the end of the priestess's gold-hemmed black robe down the main branch of the catacombs, past door after door of sealed burial chambers. "One has paid for a chamber here, and the other two will be interred at smaller temples."

People with money, then, Dela thought. Only people with lots of money could afford a vault in any temple, let alone the main House temple. Most were buried on the city outskirts. There wasn't room in Shadow's Reach for graveyards, not even when Kiel was the only House who didn't burn their dead. The only exception was Nict, but Nict was tiny, and no one seemed entirely clear on what their practices were.

"You will observe today," Maniel continued. Her crisp voice rebounded off the arched ceilings. Despite the bare stone surrounding them, it wasn't cold. Braziers burned along the passages, and the thick tunnel walls helped keep the warmth in. "And then you will join in the sermon upstairs."

Dela felt a jolt of excitement. All the girls had been whispering that Lady Kerrin was leading the sermon today, and Kerrin was the best at sermons. Dela had sneaked out of penance to watch them before. She dreamed of being like Kerrin one day, though she knew as an acolyte of the Long Path she would never be considered for High Priestess. She had a chance to get onto Kerrin's council when she joined the priesthood, though. It was a compromise she would be happy to make.

She focused on what Cleric Maniel was saying before she caught herself a flogging for inattention. If she tripped on the priestess's robe and landed herself in a Contemplation cell there would be no sneaking out to see Kerrin's service.

"You know the protocols," Maniel said, "no touching, no speaking, only observation. Your time will come."

The arched hallway split into two branches, and Maniel led them to the left, which continued on as far as Dela could see. By the time she gained her robe, she would know these catacombs like the back of her hand, but even after a year of training she found their endless stretches dizzying. After growing up on the plains, the tunnels had at first seemed claustrophobic and her first few weeks had been riddled with panic.

Maniel led them through an open doorway, into a room that was pungent with herbs. The light burned low and centred over the priests, to keep the soul close. Maniel ushered them into a line in a patch of shadow at the back of the room and then closed the door behind her. The walls were so thick that Dela didn't hear her walk away.

The priests didn't acknowledge their presence, having eyes only for their charge. Lin's arm brushed Dela's, and the fellow acolyte's fingers wriggled into hers. Lin never liked the observations, and Dela had never understood why she had been assigned to the Long Path when she was so squeamish about death. Still, Dela was grateful for her company.

The other priests in the room also wore black edged with gold, though their garb was more practical than Maniel's, hemmed in tight so that it didn't get in the way. There were two of them. They both wore Kiel's supplicating hands stitched onto their breast pockets, and black masks covered their lower faces. Between them, below the lantern, was a stone slab, and on the stone slab was a dead man.

Dela wasn't squeamish, but she was starting to wonder if she would ever observe the dead with the same ease that ordained priests of her order did. They worked with reverence, but also with ruthless efficiency, washing the body and perfuming it with herbed oils as smoothly as if it was rehearsed. The organs were removed quickly and precisely and placed into clay burial jars, which were pieces of art in themselves.