by C C Sommerly
By the time I’d showered and brushed my teeth, there was knocking at my door once more.
I yanked the door open and the woman smartly stayed silent this time. She merely held out the coffee mug as a peace offering. They were certainly hospitable here. And just like that my mood sunk. What would Miles do when I didn’t show up for training? He knew I couldn’t access my magic, but I still broke our agreement by not showing up at today’s training session.
The woman was quiet, her gaze focused on the ground. She nervously shifted her weight from side to side. Muffin was at ease, so he didn’t detect any threats from her.
I sipped my coffee carefully to keep my disrupters covered by my sleeves. The warmth of the Institute was going to be super uncomfortable as the day wore on. Already, a trickle of sweat was making its way down my spine.
With most of my coffee drank, I studied the woman before me. She was of a mixed descent with gorgeous caramel-colored skin and thick, shiny hair. Her eyes were a pale green and I couldn’t help, but be a little envious of.
How long would I be here with my life on hold? Would Sterling wonder what happened to me? Would Lochlan? Thinking about those two hurt. I already missed the handsome fae and I felt raw from Sterling’s betrayal. I wanted to hit something until my hands were a bloody pulp or rail to the heavens about the unfairness of it. Neither of those things would do any good. If I couldn’t save myself, at the very least, I’d figure out what this cult was up to and save Emma Lynn and her family.
I cleared my throat and my escort looked at me before she turning her eyes downwards once again.
“My name is Isa. I’m to escort you to His Highness.”
“By all means, show me the way.”
The path she took was familiar from my previous visit. People moved around us. Some flashed welcoming smiles and others reached out to pat my shoulders or touch me. While that might comfort to most people, it certainly wasn’t to me. By the time we got to Jarl’s door, I was as prickly as a hedgehog and ready to smack the next person who dared to invade my personal space and touch me without permission.
Isa knocked on the door and carefully opened it. She bent at the waist towards Jarl and then ushered Muffin and me inside. The deference they showed Jarl was out of proportion to anything I’d seen other religious leaders get. Even the Sisterhood’s Lead Seer, Cassandra, wasn’t treated like this.
Once we were inside, she scampered away, closing the door on her way out. Jarl’s eyes met mine, searching and with a semi-smile on his face.
What was he looking for? Weren’t they hell-bent on having me stay? Did he want to question me about returning?
“I’m glad to see you back with us, but I am surprised at how quickly you returned to us.”
“So am I?”
“Care to share why the change of heart?”
“Is that a requirement to join?”
“No, not necessarily, but I’d like to understand why you made the choice. You seemed pretty adamant that you wouldn’t be back.”
If I wasn’t so pissed and hurt, I’d be annoyed with his semi-inquisition.
“I didn’t feel right when I left.” That much was true. The funny thing about being a convincing liar is that it required including elements of the truth.
“And, I couldn’t stop thinking about what I saw and heard here.”
Jarl was happy with that response. He got up and hugged me. He smelled of the incense and I found myself leaning into him to get a more of the scent.
Jarl pulled away from me, but there was a knowing look in his eyes. He’d noticed my reaction and my uncouth smelling of him. He winked at me, like an unspoken agreement to share a secret.
That bothered me. For someone who followed a “true” god, he didn’t’ have a problem with using half-truths and secret keeping. I didn’t like inconsistencies in people – either in their words or actions. It meant I’d missed something about them.
“We’re glad you are here. Have you eaten? I was just about to have my morning meal brought in.”
“No.”
Jarl rang a gong and within minutes several people wheeled in a cart filled with a breakfast spread. Once they left I ate quickly, but not so fast that I wasn’t able to slip Muffin a few pieces of bacon.
“We have a sermon this morning and after that, you’ll be assigned a mentor.”
“And what am I to do with my mentor?”
“Listen, learn, and feel.”
“That’s it?”
“While what I said sounds simple, it’s anything but easy. It can be the simple things that we find the most difficult. To open your mind, heart and soul to new perspectives can be insurmountable to some people. It requires giving up control and just being present in the moment. And, to trust in the unknown.”
“I’ll do my best, but you should know that I’ve never had a challenge that I couldn’t overcome.”
“Then, this should be a very interesting experience for you. One more thing before Isa returns, you can come to me with any questions you have about what you learn. Although, Isa is your best resource as your mentor. My door is always open.”
He ran a gong and Isa directed me out.
Before the door shut, Jarl called out, “Remember what I said, Marty.”
Isa took me to their storage room to get my own seeker robe. It lacked the bright colors of the other robes. It was a drab brown and without any design or embroidery on the hem like the other ones.
Then Isa took me to the library for my very own copy of Book of Truth. She described it as a devotional to The True One. We went from there to the meditation room – the only part of the morning I enjoyed.
After the meditation, we moved into a spacious room that was already filled with other disciples, as Isa explained their followers were called. Once I pledged to The True One, I’d be a rising disciple. Until then, I remained a seeker And if I was baptized, then I became a full disciple.
“We’ll make it just in time for today’s sermon,” she said.
We entered the temple and found an empty wooden bench to sit on. What was the deal with these concrete-hard benches? It was standard church seating and my butt would be numb by the time this sermon finished.
I received lots of curious looks and some outright stares from the other people. No one came up to talk to me though. The hundreds of people in the temple were oddly quiet. An air of expectation hung heavy around me.
At the front of the room was a marble altar, with flecks of mica that caught the light, making them sparkle like gems. Aside from its sparkle, the next thing that caught my eye was its sheer size. It was big enough to fit a dragon. Carved waterfalls backed the altar. They spewed smoke instead of water. It was an eerie, but captivating sight, seeing the smoke travel down the carved path to the ground before rising up.
When Jarl took the stage, everyone stood and started clapping. In the row closest to the altar, one of the men reached out to touch Jarl’s robe. I was slow to rise, so Isa jerked me to my feet.
Muffin growled at her rough handling of me. She quickly dropped her hand and took a step away from me. That appeased my devil dog because he sat down at my feet.
“Please sit. Welcome disciples of The True One. May the grace of The True One be with you.”
“And may the grace of The True One be with you,” said the group.
“Before we start, I want to acknowledge our newest seeker. Marty, if you will stand.”
A spot light was directed on me. It wasn’t necessary. I was the only one in a brown robe. I got up and everyone clapped. Some said words of welcome to me. I quickly sat back into my seat.
“Today, I want to talk with you about openness. This is more than being friendly to strangers or each other. Rather, this is the ability to let go and explore what is out there. To come here every day with an open heart and mind,” said Jarl.
“It is only when we open our hearts and minds that we can feel the presence and power of The True One. We’ve been told of the gods
and goddesses, but denied knowledge of our one true god, our benevolent god. Denied his love and acceptance. Denied having a relationship with him. That stops here and now. For each of you, that stopped the moment you stepped through the doors and embraced him. But there are so many more out there with closed hearts that do not know the love of The True One. I ask each of you to do pilgrimage to the city. Seek out the lost ones from the lowliest up to the loftiest of citizens. Show them the path of truth. Drink and have them partake of our offerings. It is for their benefit and can only help spread the word of The True One.”
“May The True One reign forever,” said a man in the group.
“Please turn to Unity, 5:1-3 The Book of Truth.”
My book creaked when I opened it, earning me several unfriendly looks at my audacity to interrupt their esteemed leader. Isa quickly helped me find the passage. I’d never been to a church or any kind of religious ceremony before, so this was my first sermon. I was oddly curious to see what it entailed.
“The book says, ‘Come to me bare and as uninhabited as the day you were born. It is only when man strips him himself bare and gives up all restrictions in the name of The True One that he will see what was hidden. This clarity frees you to see my truth, my word and my belief in you. For I believe and love each of you. May you take upon yourself this task to understand, know, and love me.”
Complete silence ensued. Some disciples wove throughout the benches. Each of them carried a large golden goblet in one hand and a metal ball on a chain that wafted the familiar smokey incense. This cult was obsessed with incense.
Each disciple stopped in front of every person. They made a complicated hand motion and moved onto the next person. Were they using sigils? This was the second time I’d witnessed the group using them.
“What are they doing,” I asked Isa.
“It is the offering. We give part of ourselves to show the dedication and love of The True One.”
The disciple was in front of me. He murmured meaningless words and swirled the incense around me. Quick as a snake, he lashed out, stabbing into my hand with a long needle. Before I could rip my hand away, he splashed my blood into the goblet. By the time he finished with Isa, I was seeing red.
“You didn’t think it was important to tell me that they use blood magic?”
“Oh no, we don’t practice that here. It is purely symbolic. The blood is disposed of. It represents how the truth can be painful and by trusting in our leaders, we can continue to walk the path of truth.”
“I don’t want to be bled. Next time, I’m refusing.”
“Oh no, you cannot do that. The True One takes offense at such a rejection.”
“If you don’t like it, then go tell His Highness. That’s the last time I bleed for any of you.”
“No one has refused to participate in the ceremony before. Please, you mustn’t refuse, it reflects poorly on me as your mentor. Your failures are my failures.”
“What are they going to do, flog you? Kill you?”
She didn’t respond. Why was the bloodletting such a big deal if it was symbolic? This is the second time, I’d seen blood involved with their meetings. Isa might be naïve enough to trust that these people weren’t using blood magic, but I wouldn’t make that mistake.
Neither of us said another word as Jarl continued his sermon. I perked up when he mentioned community outreach. Is this how they found Emma Lynn and got her involved?
“We are taking volunteers for this week’s outreach. Please see Enja to sign up to an area. The rest of you participate by making brewing the tea and making cookies for them to give out.”
Outreach was an opportunity to see these people in action. When I figured out what these cultists were up to, I doubt they’d be very welcoming. How hard would it be to keep getting the incense once this case was over?
“Will I do outreach?” I asked.
“No, we get to cook.”
She sounded mad at me. I guess she really didn’t want to cook. I snickered. Just wait until they see how piss-poor my cooking skills were. They’d be lucky if I only burnt the cookies and not the kitchen.
“Where do you perform the outreach at?”
“Normally, we go into the community centers. We have partnership with many of them. They let us leave pamphlets and give talks about how we can support the community. That’s actually how I came to be a disciple.”
“So, this is just visiting community centers? I could do that.
“No, we recently expanded our program. We do art classes, hold charity events, donate food to the needy, and lots more. It’s just one way we give back to the unfortunate and spread the True One’s love while we’re doing it.”
She stood up. “Come on, we want to get to the kitchens early enough to pick our station.”
“Station?”
“Yes, wait until you see how we make cookies. It’s not like anything you’ve seen before.”
26
Isa wasn’t kidding about the kitchen stations. I doubt even palaces had kitchens the size of this one. It was obscenely big and the size of a restaurant’s seating area. There were countertop islands – each with different ingredients and kitchen tools. Just being here made me nervous.
Unfortunately, many of the stations were already manned, so we headed over to one of the large stoves. It was a hulking metal beast, topped with nine burners. On the counter next to it was a tower of empty trays waiting to be filled.
“Just wait here, I’ll be right back,” she said.
Before she could leave, a man stalked over to us. “No dogs allowed in the kitchen,” he said. “He’ll have to leave.”
“He’s an emotional support animal. He won’t be any trouble or do any damage,” I said.
“I don’t want him eating the cookies. They aren’t to be wasted on an animal.”
“Oh Andrew, I see you’ve met our new seeker, Marty.”
“Her dog has to leave.”
“No, he doesn’t, His Highness authorized it. The dog goes wherever Marty goes.”
Andrew snarled and left. He was the first confrontational person I’d seen here. The mage that greeted me the first time hadn’t been hostile, just protective. For some reason, Andrew’s reaction was reassuring. Everyone here was unnaturally upbeat and downright cheery. It was unnatural to see only happy people. No one was happy all the time. His, at least, was a genuine emotion.
“Sorry about that. Andrew helps run the kitchen. He tends to be a bit bossy, but he’s not a bad man. He just takes his duty very seriously and we’re not used to having animals here. My errand can wait. I’ll stay here with you in case Andrew decides to bother you again.”
“Thanks.”
The stove was different from the stoves I’d used before. Those were magic-run and only needed a word to be turned on and off. I saw knobs and buttons on this one.
“How do I turn this thing on?” I asked.
“You do know how to cook, right?” Isa asked.
“Sure, but I’m not very good at it.”
“Hmmm … I’ll show you what you need to know.”
She showed me how to fire up the stove, which ran on gas or something else. Isa opened the oven door and when she turned it on, flames shot out two feet beyond the oven. I managed to pivot out of the way, but the heat still singed my robe. The smell of burnt fibers overtook the spicy scent of the incense.
“I’m so sorry. The rest of us know about this fiery beast and stand clear. I didn’t think to warn you. Please forgive me.”
“It’s okay.” It wasn’t but, there was no need to alienate her by showing my anger. “Why did you open it up if it’s so dangerous?”
“The one time we kept it closed to light it, it blew the oven door off.”
“How soon until it’s ready, Isa?” asked someone.
“Give us a couple of minutes, but you can start lining the cookies up.”
Before I knew it there was a two-foot tall tray of cookies awaiting their turn in the “fiery
beast”.
The stove beeped.
“That’s our cue,” said Isa. “Hand me two trays. When the timer goes off, take the trays and set them over here. Then, put in two more.”
“Okay, but you’ll be here to help me, right?”
“I just need to run to the bathroom really quick, but I won’t be gone long.”
I looked around the kitchen at the flurry of activity. Most of the people in here worked in silence, but a few quietly chatted. Muffin was laying as close to the stove as he could get. He happily wagged his tail.
What is that beeping? Someone really needed to turn it off because it was getting annoying.
“Seeker, the cookies are done.”
I jumped to open the stove. I reached for the cookies then immediately dropped them. My hands were scalded. I cradled my injured hands and swearing in my displeasure.
“Here, let me,” said a familiar looking woman. “We’ve actually met before, I’m Zora.”
“Oh, where did we meet at?”
“The art lesson that Emma Lynn recently gave. You probably don’t remember me. There were a lot of us there that day.”
She grasped my hands and starting humming as her magic seeped into my injured hands.
Leaning in close to me she said, “I thought only criminals wear disrupters?”
I didn’t think she touched my wrists when she healed my hands. How else could she tell that I had them on when they were hidden under my sleeves?
“I’m not a criminal.”
“I have no way of knowing that. If you give me even the smallest indication that you are up to no good, I’m telling His Highness,” said Zora.
Smoke was coming out of the oven and the smell of the cookies’ demise saturated the air.
Andrew rushed over and snatched up the oven mitts and retrieved the destroyed cookies.
“What happened?” barked Andrew. “The timer should have gone off?”
“I kinda have a knack for destruction in a kitchen and no one said anything about a timer.”
“For the love of The True One, switch stations with Leon.” He pointed at a slender man stirring something in a large bowl. “She can’t burn anything if she’s only mixing the ingredients.”