“Disappear into that place you go sometimes.” He plucked a few petals from my hair. “It’s like you’ve found a place or a moment where you’re at peace with the world and know you belong, and you’re happy.”
Warmth crept into my cheeks. In the moments of stillness when I felt most at peace, Miriel had scolded me for daydreaming, and Ina had often grown impatient to carry on with whatever we were doing. That Hal saw more and appreciated it . . . that meant something. Part of me wanted to follow where it led, to take his hand—not because I needed it but because I wanted to, because maybe a spark would leap between us again, just as it had the first time we met.
“The entrance is ahead,” Hal said, interrupting my thoughts. He pointed to a path of cobbled flagstones leading to wide stairs climbing up the hill at least two stories to the entrance.
At the top, a cleric stood between two heavily armored guards. Behind her stood the closed double doors, with large, ornate hinges stretching across them.
“It’s a pity I can’t use my compulsion on those sworn to the spirit god,” Hal said.
“Why can’t you?” I asked, not that I wanted to risk him passing out on me again.
“Those with vows to the spirit god are attuned to emotions and feelings. They can sense truth and lies. And in a way, my compulsion is a sort of deception—a way of getting people to lie to themselves.”
I knew spirit users could turn people’s minds against them, but I hadn’t thought about truth sensing or that Hal’s gift was a kind of lie.
We climbed the stone steps until we stood before the temple doors. My mouth was dry with nerves. The cleric carried a staff of knotted wood, and her hair was braided into an intricate arrangement adorned with golden beads and bells to symbolize her devotion to the spirit god.
“Hello, my children,” the cleric said gently. “The temple is closed to visitors without permission from the crown.”
“But I’m a demigod,” I said. Shouldn’t that give me some right to speak to the gods? One of them was a part of me. “The woman who raised me said my father was the wind god, but that has since been proved untrue. Now I know nothing about my history or parentage. This is my only hope of finding out the truth.”
The cleric’s gentle expression grew firm. I remembered a moment too late what Hal had told me about the spirit god and those who followed them.
She knew I wasn’t telling the whole truth.
“Without the king’s permission, you may not enter alone. If you are in Corovja for winter solstice, you may enter at that time to make offerings,” the cleric said.
“I don’t have that long,” I said. Winter solstice would be far too late. The more time that passed from Amalska’s destruction, the more complicated it would be to unmake history.
“Asra, come on,” Hal said, tugging the sleeve of my cloak.
“But—” I couldn’t give up this easily. “Isn’t there some other way to gain official entry? Please, if there is any way at all . . .”
“No. Not unless the king gives you permission,” the cleric said. “Guards?”
The guards standing on either side of the door moved up to flank her.
“We need to go right now,” Hal said, pulling me harder this time. The nervous expression on his face made me give in.
Reluctantly, I turned away from the cleric and followed Hal down the stairs.
“Maybe we can come back later,” I said. “Sneak in.”
Hal shook his head. “Look back.”
I glanced over my shoulder and saw why he’d wanted us to leave. The number of guards had multiplied, and the cleric was speaking to them.
“They can’t have thought we were a threat,” I said, incredulous.
“It’s the most sacred place in Zumorda. Everyone knows no one is allowed in, so when someone tries to go against that . . . it draws attention. The king will probably already know about what just happened long before we make it to him, but I didn’t want us to end up getting an audience with him as criminals rather than petitioners.”
“He would treat us as criminals just for asking to enter the Grand Temple?” That seemed extreme.
“It’s better not to push our luck,” Hal said. “We should talk to the alchemist. He’ll be able to get us in to see the king.”
“Onward to the alchemist, then,” I said. Convincing the king to speak to the shadow god was now my only hope.
I hoped he wasn’t as monstrous as Ina and Nismae thought.
CHAPTER 25
THE GATE TO THE CASTLE SAT IN A WALL SO THICK that the tunnel beneath it took us at least twenty paces to walk through. The stones of the wall had been polished smooth so that it would be almost impossible to climb, and the top was crowned with a sharply slanted roof studded with snow guards sharp as the heads of pikes. Soldiers stood evenly spaced along the walls, swords buckled at their waists and small knives sheathed down one side of their chests. Though they stood still as statues, their eyes sharply watched all the foot and horse traffic heading in and out through the yawning gate.
The closer we got to the building itself, the more troubled Hal’s expression became.
“Are you worried the king will recognize you?” I asked.
“More that he might think I’m complicit in what Nismae and Ina plan to do to him.” Hal’s voice was grim.
“He might make that assumption.” I wasn’t going to lie.
“And then what?” he asked.
“I vouch for you,” I said, holding up my bad arm. “She hurt me. Given that, there’s no reason he shouldn’t trust my word. I’m not going to throw you at his feet and run to save myself. That’s not what friends do.”
“You don’t really need me, Asra. You’re strong on your own. Once you get your audience with the king, you won’t need me. You have a gift that can make anything possible. You don’t even seem afraid of what it might cost you. The future is yours.” His eyebrows drew together with worry.
I tugged him to the side of the road. “Is that what you’re worried about? That I’ll abandon you?” The thought was ludicrous after all we’d been through together. His sister might never forgive him for stealing me from her. He’d made that sacrifice for me.
“Maybe a little,” he admitted.
“I want you with me,” I said. Of course I could survive without him, but that didn’t mean I wanted to. Not now, not yet—not unless I had to when I used the Fatestone to rewrite the past. I’d grown too used to sleeping with my back pressed against his, to waking up to his smile, to the way he made up nonsense words to popular tunes to make me laugh and our hours on the road pass faster.
“You have me.” He smiled a little, and his expression reminded me of the look in his eyes yesterday morning. We approached the castle doors. I felt no bigger than an ant in front of the building. A line of people spilled down the front steps, winding back and forth and continuing around the circular drive nearly all the way to the entrance we’d just come through.
I stared in dismay. “This is how many petitioners there are?”
“Yes, and their names have likely been on the ledger for a moon. This must be their scheduled day. Follow me.” Hal led me toward a smaller gate leading into one of the gardens surrounding the castle.
The palace garden had just blossomed into summer. Rhododendrons of every color burst with flowers, and butterflies hovered around daphne bushes that carried a scent so intoxicating and rich I slowed my footsteps to linger in the perfume. Hal and I passed by a wall of green that twisted into a hedge maze filled with shadows. I hoped the king paid as much attention to protection as he did decoration.
Ahead of us a stone walkway lined with columns led to a set of double doors into the castle. A uniformed woman stood guarding the entrance, her hand already drifting toward her weapon when she saw us coming.
“This entrance isn’t for petitioners,” she said.
Hal stood up straighter and smiled warmly at the stony-faced guard.
“We are here to clean the king’s commodes,” he announced with extreme formality.
I barely held back a snort of laughter.