Aalea had explained that a few drops of Adonai’s blood were mixed into the pools at the Porkery and other Red Church chapels. Through that blood, the speaker could feel when someone entered the pool, and if he willed it, allow them to make the Walk back. He was like a spider at the center of a vast, scarlet web, his own essence serving as the threads. Mia still found herself amazed by it all—next to Adonai, her little parlor tricks with shadows seemed a feeble sort of magik indeed. If Consul Scaeva and the Luminatii ever discovered the Red Church had this kind of power …
“All right,” Ash whispered. “Here’s the plan. You go in and distract him. And while he’s dazzled by you, I hit the alcoves and snatch the Trinity.”
“Dazzled by me?” Mia hissed. “How do I manage that?”
“I don’t know, you’re the saucy one. Use your wiles, woman.”
Mia gawped, momentarily losing the power of speech.
“… Maw’s teeth, Ash. ‘Use my wiles’? That’s your plan?”
“Well, I don’t know. You’ve been studying with Aalea longer than any of us. Use that slinky walk you like so much. Get your girls out or somesuch.”
“Get my …”
Mia flapped her lips awhile, flabbergasted.
“Use your words,” Ash sighed.
“Here’s some words,” Mia finally managed. “Why don’t you distract Adonai, and I—the girl who I might point out, is turning us near fucking invisible at this very second—go and snatch the Trinity instead?”
“And how are you going to touch it without spewing fountains, O, invisible one?”
Mia opened her mouth to reply. Closed it again. Sighed.
“Good point.”
Ash nodded. Waited expectantly.
“Well, go on, then.”
Mia rolled her eyes. Threw off the shadowcloak. “Fine.”
She stood, knocked on the wall, and stepped into Adonai’s chamber.
“Speaker?”
Adonai didn’t open his eyes, talking like a man in a dream.
“Good eve, Acolyte. Thou art bound for the city? Shahiid Aalea sent no word.”
“No. Apologies.” Mia walked into the chamber, searching desperately for some kind of ruse. “I … wished to speak to you.”
“And what shall ye speak about, pray tell?”
Mia’s eyes roamed the maps carved on the walls. The shattered isles of Godsgrave. The obsidian fortress of Carrion Hall. The port of Farrow. Glyphs were scrawled in blood among the carvings, shifting and blurring if she looked at them too long. From this room, the Red Church could touch any city in the Republic.
Her eyes settled on a map she didn’t recognize, near hidden in the shifting shadows. A great, sprawling metropolis, grander than Godsgrave, its contours and streets unlike anything she’d seen.
“Where is that?” she asked. “I’ve never seen it before.”
“Nor shall ye.”
Mia looked to Adonai, the question plain in her gaze. Letting the silence speak, as Aalea had taught her. But Adonai still hadn’t opened his eyes, his lips twisted in that beautiful, lazy smile. The speaker, it seemed, knew Aalea’s craft also.
“Can you tell me why not?” Mia finally asked.
“It is gone,” Adonai replied.
“What was its name?”
“Ur Shuum.”
“That’s Ashkahi,” Mia said. “It means First City.”
Adonai sighed, radiating boredom. “Thou art not here for a lesson in geography, little darkin. Speak thy business and be away, afore my hunger bests my patience.”
Mia swallowed her disgust, wondering where the blood Adonai drank actually came from. She didn’t dare look over her shoulder to see if Ashlinn was in the room yet. Stepping nearer to the speaker, she blocked his eyeline to the alcoves—should he ever bother opening them. This close, she could see the veins beneath his pale skin, etched in sky blue. His angular cheekbones, and long, fluttering lashes and O, so clever fingers weaving in the air. Mia wondered if he was born this beautiful, or if his sister had woven him so. And there, she stumbled on a topic that might prove a distraction …
“I want to speak to you about Naev.”
Adonai’s eyes opened. The whites were slicked with a thin scarlet film, the irises bright pink. Ever so slowly, the speaker turned his head, settled his gaze on Mia. She felt his stare like a leaden weight. Pinned like a fly in his scarlet web.
“Naev,” Adonai repeated.
The air grew heavier, the waves in the blood pool churning just a touch harder. For the first time, Mia noticed Adonai didn’t seem to blink.
“I saved her life in the Whisperwastes.”
“This I know, Acolyte.”
“I saw her face. What Marielle did to her. It’s not right, Adonai.”
“Thou art a fine one to speak of right and wrong, little murderer.”
“… I beg your pardon?”
“Not my pardon thou shouldst beg,” Adonai smiled. “Not I whose corpse ye mutilated to purchase thy pew at this altar, aye?”
Mia’s jaw clenched. “The man I killed to be here was a murderer himself. Hundreds of people. Thousands, maybe. He hung my father. He deserved it. Every inch of it.”
“And what of the others?”
Mia blinked. “Others?”
Adonai climbed to his feet, lazy, languid. Stepping close enough to Mia that she could feel the heat on his skin. He leaned in close, his bone-white fringe brushing against her brow. Lips that begged to be kissed just a breath from hers, wet with blood. For a dizzying moment, she thought he was about to do just that, and she found her pulse racing, her belly thrilled at the thought. But instead, he inhaled, breathing deep, eyelids fluttering closed. And as he spoke, he smiled.
“I can smell their blood on you, little darkin.”
Mia forced herself not to flinch. Nor to back away.
“You have your sister’s ear,” she said. “She loves you, Adonai.”
“And I, her. As the Light loved the Dark.”
“But Naev loves you too. She doesn’t deserve to suffer for it.”
The speaker placed his thumb on her chin. Tilting her head back, ever so slightly. Mia imagined those ruby lips caressing her skin, his teeth nipping at her throat. She suppressed a shiver. Finding it harder and harder to breathe.
“I have never tasted one of your kind before …,” he whispered.
Adonai’s lips twisted in another honey-sweet smile. But staring into his eyes, Mia realized there was nothing behind them. This was all just a game to him, and she, just momentary distraction. His was only a skin-deep beauty, the vanity leaked through to his bones, just as twisted and rotten inside as his sister was out. And though Naev might have loved him—though Mia could see how any woman might—she knew that aside from Marielle, Adonai had no love for anyone but himself.
Ever so gently, Mia pushed his hand away.
“I’ll thank you to not touch me, Speaker.”
Adonai smiled wider. “But wouldst thou thank me also, if I did?”
Would I?
The shadows at Mia’s feet shivered as the blood in the pool grew more agitated. Her eyes narrowed, her teeth gritted. And just as the heat in the room became unbearable, just as the pool began crashing and splashing, Mia heard Ashlinn’s voice.
“Maw’s teeth, there you are.”
Mia drew away from the speaker, saw Ashlinn at the doorway.
“I’ve been looking everywhere for you, Corvere. We’re supposed to be working on Spiderkiller’s lesson.” Ash stepped into the room, bowed low. “Apologies, Speaker. Might I have my learned colleague back? She’d forget her damn shadow if it wasn’t nailed to her feet.”
Adonai’s smile fell away like winter leaves.
“She may go where she pleases.” A sigh. “I care not.”
Adonai returned to his knees, eyes back on the pool. Dismissing Mia without so much as a word. Ash grabbed her hand, hauled her from the room. Dragging her down the corridor, stopping only once out of sight and earshot of the speaker’s chamber.
“’Byss and blood,” Ash breathed. “I honestly thought he was going to try a snog for a minute.”
“Well, you did tell me to distract him,” Mia said. “Now tell me it worked.”
Ashlinn reached into her britches and drew out a length of gold chain. Mia saw a flare of light, flinching as if scalded, hand to her eyes. “Maw’s teeth, put it back in your pants.”
“You really do leave the door open for me, don’t you?”
Ash tucked the medallion back into her britches, patted Mia’s shoulder. The girl opened her eyes tentatively, relaxing once she knew the Trinity was out of sight.
“You swapped it for the other?”
Ash nodded. “Jess will be none the wiser. Until next time she pulls it on you, that is. That’ll be your signal to kick her in the curlies.” Ash patted her leathers. “I’ll take care of this thing. Put it somewhere no one is going to get hold of it again.”
“The perfect crime,” Mia smiled.