Page 53 of The Isles of the Gods
I expect her to try and talk me around, but she simply nods. “Perhaps you are bound for the Mother,” she says instead. “All her children are present in her temple.”
“Perhaps,” I say, suddenly desperate to get away from her, from the conversation. “I should see if Laskia needs anything, Sister. Please excuse me.”
She glances at the ruby pin on my lapel and then nods, releasing me.
I force myself to keep to a walk as I retreat.
—
I keep out of the way as we reach Voster Bay, and Varon and the others get the ship squared away, dropping anchor andwaiting as her great bulk swings around to face into the direction of the outgoing tide.
A signal is sent to the convent ashore—the sisters will send out a boat to collect Laskia, Sister Beris, and me before the ship heads on to its next destination. In the meantime, everyone troops below to the mess hall, to settle in at the long tables for a hot breakfast, though the sun’s not yet up. Their work is done, after all.
There’s no way I can eat without being sick, but before I can decline the invitation, Laskia catches my arm, wordlessly pulling me to stand in the doorway with her and Sister Beris.
There’s a fixed look on her face—has been ever since we left the merchant ship in our wake. It says she’s realized she has two choices now: either she can see what she’s done and understand the horror of it—and get out—or she can go deeper.
I think her faith is real, and I think she truly believed she could have it all. That with one death she could provoke a war that would rally the faithful for Sister Beris. That would bring Ruby so much money, so much power, she would have no choice but to acknowledge her sister.
But Ruby will never see Laskia the way she wishes. Sister Beris serves her god—Laskia is no more than a tool to her. And Macean is bound in sleep and knows nothing of what she does.
Laskia, though?Sheknows what she’s done. It’s in the set of her jaw, in her fixed stare. She’s like a girl trying to forget last night’s bad dream but finding it behind her every time she looks over her shoulder. She has to keep moving and hope the nightmare doesn’t catch up.
I stand at her side as the crew digs into porridge, which is ladled out from huge bowls, and a shout goes up when the chef brings out pots of honey to go with it.
He points at Laskia as he loads up his own bowl and thumps onto a bench a couple of places along from Varon.
“Consider it a bonus,” Laskia calls out with a generous wave of one hand. “Thank you all for your hard work.”
They cheer like big children with a treat and fight over the honey, passing it along the rows so they can spoon it onto their breakfast. A thank-you gift for dozens of murders.
Laskia turns to look back at Sister Beris, her expression unreadable, and the green sister lays a hand on her shoulder.
“Strength, Laskia,” she murmurs. “And purpose.”
My stomach is turning at the smell of the food, and I’m about to fade backward through the open door and escape to the upper decks when the talk around us dies away.
I look around at the crew for the cause, and I’m met with suddenly open mouths, bulging eyes. Their faces darken as they struggle for breath—Varon turns bright red as he meets my eyes, and I stare back at him in bewilderment.
“Laskia.” I can’t look away. “What did you do?”
“We’re trying to frame our government for an assassination, Jude,” she says quietly. “That’s why we dressed those bodies in Mellacean navy uniforms and threw them into the wreckage. Witnesses are a liability.”
As she speaks, Varon reaches out to me, fingers curling into claws. He’s staring at me like I knew, like I betrayed him.
And I want to look away from what’s happening, but something compels me to witness it.
All around him, the crew members slump, heads hittingtables, or they push to their feet and collapse after a few staggering steps.
Laskia watches from the doorway, Sister Beris impassive beside her.
“Ruby’s cleaners will tidy up the boat later,” Laskia says as Varon falls from his bench, sprawling on the floor, motionless. Her jaw is set, her gaze distant. Whatever this is costing her, she’s keeping it buried deep inside. “We can’t afford to leave any mess behind.”
SELLY
TheLittle Lizabetta
The Crescent Sea
