Sapient Salvation 2: The Awakening (Sapient Salvation Series)

by Jayne Faith

  My gut tensed with the suspicion that I knew what was coming next. “Which guide?”

  “A woman named Iris, guide to an Offered named Maya,” Peter said.

  I flicked a quick look at Akantha and caught the clench of her jaw at the utterance of Maya’s name. I drew myself taller in my seat and gave her a penetrating look.

  “Tell me about these incidents.” My heart tripped with fear that the other incident also somehow involved Maya even though she had not set off the alarm herself.

  “The most recent was an Offered named Samir,” Akantha said.

  “And are these two incidents related?”

  “It doesn’t appear so,” Peter said.

  “And how does this involve the Temple?” I asked.

  Akantha shifted, and her fingers intertwined in her lap. “The boy’s breach had to do with you. And the Oracle.”

  I pulled my head back and frowned, unable to mask my surprise.

  Peter shook his head slowly. “Apparently he fainted after the Offered left the throne room just a bit ago, and he’s been raving ever since he came to. Screaming about how the Oracle is a false prophet, and how you are, uh . . .” he trailed off and cleared his throat, obviously uncomfortable with what he had to say next. “He said you are a witch and an imposter.”

  My brows shot up and I grunted, unsure of whether to be more amused or concerned. “Well, it’s been a long time since I was called such names. And to my knowledge never by an Earthen.”

  Peter’s face remained grim in spite of my small attempt at levity. “Even after several rounds of automated punishment, his raving continued,” he said. “We finally had to get a medic to heavily sedate him.”

  “May I have the details of the other alarm? The one involving Iris?” I asked.

  “She tried to tell Maya that she had a powerful enemy in the palace,” Akantha said.

  “And how was that traitorous?”

  Akantha’s mouth hardened into a tight line before she responded. “The guide was about to say that the enemy was a royal. Just before the punishment triggered and cut her off.”

  My heart seemed to stop for a moment before it kicked to life and my pulse quickened. Iris’s accusation echoed Terrina’s vision so closely it sent chills spilling down my spine. How could a retired harem woman know such a thing? She couldn’t have heard of the prophecy. An Oracle’s vision was never revealed publicly, not right away. Later it would be recorded in the histories, but . . . Iris knew something that confirmed the vision. And she possibly knew who the figure in the vision was.

  I hummed a non-committal response and shifted my weight around, stalling while I tried to work some moisture back into my dry mouth.

  I drew a deep breath. “Well, this is most strange. Though we are indeed in the midst of strange days. Thank you for informing me, and I trust you will let me know immediately of any new developments.”

  Peter bowed his head. “Of course, Your Holiness.”

  They both stood, and I let them walk a few steps before calling out, “Akantha, would you stay a moment?”

  Tension visibly laced through her entire body as she pasted a tight smile on her lips and waited for Peter to leave.

  I cast my most authoritative look upon her. “Please sit,” I said, tilting my gaze at the chair she’d just occupied.

  Her face blanched a bit as she silently did as I asked.

  “In the midst of the recent excitement, I neglected to congratulate you on your engagement to Prince Toric,” I said.

  A brief flicker of surprise registered on her face. “Oh . . . I thank you for your well wishes, Your Holiness.” She tilted her head downward in acknowledgment.

  She didn’t usually address me with such formality, and I wondered whether it was because we were sitting here in the office of the High Priestess—my territory—or because I’d caught her off guard with my comment. Perhaps a bit of both.

  “You make no attempt to hide that you are a very . . . ambitious young woman, Akantha. But I feel compelled to give you a piece of advice. If your ambition is without spirit, without humanity, it will turn on you. Perhaps not in the short term, but you must take care that your greatest strength does not become your ultimate downfall.”

  I paused to allow my words to sink in and turned my gaze to the window where the bright light of a distant dying star illuminated the glass mosaic representation of the Temple emblem that filled most of the pane. “We have entered a time when our actions have greater meaning and greater consequences. Bear this in mind when you make important decisions. And remember that I am always available to you, should you need advice or simply someone to talk to. I mean that sincerely.” I softened my gaze and gave her a gentle smile.

  I knew she would never take me up on the offer of council, not in a way that didn’t involve some sort of power play or attempt at manipulation, but the series of conflicting emotions that passed over her face were well worth my extending the offer. And who was I to assume? Perhaps even someone like Akantha could have a change of heart. If that miracle occurred, at least I’d made the attempt to reach out to her.

  For the briefest of moments, her hard mask dropped, and I caught a glimpse of her vulnerability, of how alone she was. But she recovered in the next blink.

  Her lips stretched into what was probably supposed to be a smile, but the result was more a dazed grimace. She nodded awkwardly a couple of times. “Well, I thank you for that . . . that offer, Your Holiness.”

  I’d never seen her so off balance. It suddenly occurred to me Akantha was the type of person who always expected conflict and opposition. She existed in a state of tension, constantly bracing herself against the rest of the world. Kindness was something so foreign it made her intensely uncomfortable.

  “I won’t keep you any longer,” I said. “I’m sure you’re eager to leave your duties aside and spend time in prayer.”

  Her eyes flicked to the window, and she squinted a bit at the bright light. “Yes, of course,” she said. “And thank you again, Your Holiness.”

  We both knew she was not particularly devout, and I sincerely doubted she’d spend the next few days respite engaged in anything spiritual . . . but I could still hope, I thought as I watched her depart.

  I could not retreat into prayer just yet, though it would have been a welcome respite.

  I touched my earpiece. “Celestia, please come in and bring your tablet with you. I have several items for the historians to research.”

  10

  Toric

  ON MY WAY back to my chambers, I caught sight of my sister. She was engaged in quiet conversation with two noblewomen I recognized as longtime friends of hers.

  “Cassi,” I said from a few feet away as I approached, not wanting to appear as if I were listening in.

  Her friends inclined their heads toward me and began to say quick goodbyes. One of the women—Patrice was her name—gave me a coquettish smile over her shoulder and swayed her hips as she departed. I suppressed a sigh. It was not lost on the noblewomen that my time to choose a Calistan wife was drawing near. Both of the women had probably already submitted their applications for consideration.

  I bent to kiss Cassi’s cheek. “Do you have a few minutes for prayer?” I asked.

  “Of course,” she said, her eyes brightening.

  Every time I spoke to my sister, I told myself I needed to make more time for her. She was a rare beam of sunshine in my life—always cheerful, gentle, without agenda, and genuinely happy to see me.

  “How are you feeling?” I asked.

  She briefly curved a hand under her belly, which was just beginning to show the roundness of her pregnancy.

  “The vomiting has subsided, though not completely ceased,” she said and then chuckled. “You probably didn’t really want to know that.”

  I smiled. “I’d like to know whatever you want to tell me.”

  “Truly, I feel wonderful.”

  “You look absolutely wonderful,” I said. It was true. I
’d never seen her so happy. Her cheeks were prettily pink, her eyes lively, and she seemed to walk around on a bubble of air.

  She squeezed my forearm. “Thank you for saying that. The changes are strange to say the least, but it will all be worth it. Oh! You must come and see the nursery. It was to be finished this week, though now of course the work will halt until the prayer and fasting period is over.”

  I nodded. “Of course, I’d love to.”

  She glanced up at me as we reached the main entrance to my chambers. “How are you doing, Toric?”

  I waited until we were inside, past the atrium where two guards stood, before I answered. “The past several days have been . . .” I reached up to pull my fingers through my hair, but stopped when I hit the crown on my head. I pulled off the crown and held it at my side. “I’m not sure there are proper words to describe how I’m doing.”

  A motherly look of concern shadowed her face. “What’s troubling you?”

  I let out a heavy sigh. “Jeric and Akantha, for one.”

  Cassi’s eyes widened and her nose wrinkled slightly. “I don’t understand it. Mother couldn’t possibly approve the match given that Akantha isn’t noble-born, but that’s not what bothers me. She’s just . . .” She shook her head vehemently.

  “A vile person?” I suggested.

  She snorted a laugh. “You said it, not I.”

  Instead of going straight back to my bedchamber and into my prayer room, I veered off to my study.

  In the wood-paneled room, Cassi sat on the divan and curled her legs up under her in a girlish posture. “I’ve been dying to ask you: why did you approve the match?”

  I hesitated, though I knew I could trust my sister. She already suspected my feelings for Maya, so there seemed no harm in revealing my deal with Akantha, and how the Mistress of Tournament had betrayed me. I quickly told Cassi what had happened.

  Her mouth twisted with distaste. “And now she’s going to be part of the royal family. Our family.”

  I scrubbed one hand down the side of my face. “I know, it makes me ill. I’m sorry, Cassi.”

  Her expression quickly shifted to one of regret. “Oh no, I didn’t mean to imply that I blame you. If not the challenge, Akantha surely would have found some other way to force you into supporting the engagement. I’ve no doubt of that.”

  “But it is my fault. It was within my power to prevent it.” I set the crown on my desk and leaned back in my chair, staring at the ceiling.

  “Well, what’s done is done,” Cassi said. “Besides, such things seem so much less important now.”

  I watched her gaze out the window with a look of reverence on her face.

  “Can you believe it?” she said in a hushed tone.

  “Sometimes I’m not completely sure that the past week or two has not been a dream,” I said.

  I wasn’t just speaking of the victories and the Third Sign of the Return. My eyelids drifted closed and I drew a slow, deep breath as I called up the memory of Maya’s presence. The peace I felt when she was nearby. My deep desire to keep her close, to touch her sunkissed skin . . .

  My eyelids sprang open. Realizing that my thoughts of Maya were having a physical effect, I cleared my throat and straightened.

  When my eyes met Cassi’s, her gaze had sobered. She pulled her lips in between her teeth, a sure sign that she had something to say.

  I gave her a wry look. “What is it?”

  Her shoulders sagged, and she rolled her eyes off to the side. “You always know when something is on my mind.”

  “That’s because you’re terrible at hiding it.”

  She pulled a silly face and stuck her tongue out at me but then sighed and looked down at the woven rug. “It’s Mother. She’s scheming. She and Jeric have had their heads together far too often lately for my liking.”

  My brows raised as apprehension reached cold fingers through me. “Oh?”

  “I don’t know what they’re up to, but I have a bad feeling about it. Do you think Mother had anything to do with orchestrating the engagement?”

  “It’s possible, of course,” I said, my tone dry as a stone. “Will you tell me if you learn anything more?”

  She gave me a smile, but her eyes looked tired. “You know I will.”

  I rose and went to offer her my hand, and pulled her to her feet. “Let’s go to my prayer chamber.”

  As I sat next to my sister facing the altar, Maya’s face kept invading the screen of my mind. The wait until our sunset appointment was only a day, but I knew the minutes would drag until I could see her again.

  11

  Maya

  AS THE HOURS passed, my relief at being spared certain death in the challenge turned to anxiety alternating with boredom. My room was luxurious by the standards of home, but I felt like a prisoner in more ways than one—I was kept isolated not only from other people but also from information and the goings-on of the palace.

  Trays of food arrived at my door at intervals—simple meals brought by silent Calistan servants—and each time I caught a glimpse of the guard posted outside my door and heard the sounds of other doors being opened as food was delivered to the rest of the Obligates. But that was the extent of my interaction with anyone else.

  Only two things kept me from feeling completely crazy with cabin fever. One was the knowledge that my health was surely improving if I had enough energy to feel so fidgety. The other, of course, was the anticipation of seeing Lord Toric.

  He’d promised to send for me that evening. His note, which I’d memorized, had said he had “every intention of keeping our sunset appointment.”

  I was also terribly worried about Iris and looked forward to my meeting with Lord Toric in part so that I could plead for his help in saving her from whatever punishment she faced. She’d tried to help me, and I could hardly stand the thought that she could spend the rest of her life in prison—or, as Tullock had warned, something far worse.

  I opened the narrow wardrobe and flipped distractedly through the few dresses that hung there and then stood back and frowned, one arm pressed across my middle and the index finger of my other hand pressed to my lips.

  It was a small thing, perhaps, in the context of my current life, but none of the simple but beautiful dresses that had been made for me on Calisto seemed appropriate. Mother had brought up Lana and me to always be suitably dressed for the occasion, whatever it might be. It was a way of showing respect for others and for yourself, Mother used to say.

  By no means did I abide by the Calistans’ sacred texts—no, they still angered me because they commanded the Tournament and were responsible for taking me from my home—but a sign from the heavens had rescued me from being thrust into a challenge that surely would have killed me. Even though I wasn’t observing the Calistans’ seven days of meditation and fasting, I wanted Lord Toric to see . . . what? Well, that I recognized the miraculous gift of the exploding semi-sun called Targia, as the Oracle had announced in the throne room. It seemed appropriate to show respect for the disruption that had saved me.

  I grasped the hanger with the black Obligate dress I’d worn from Earthenfell and pulled it out of the wardrobe. The simple cotton dress—a couple of inches too long for me—had been made for Belinda, the girl who was supposed to have come to Calisto as Clan Terra’s Obligate.

  I ran my fingers down the length of the garment, raising the hanger above my head so I could reach down to grasp the hem for closer inspection. The dress had been laundered since I wore it. I could tell because the hem was pristine, free of the Earthen dust that it had carried through the portal to Calisto.

  My throat thickened as I considered how every speck of home had been removed from my body, my clothes. My thoughts turned to my twin sister, Lana.

  Would Lord Toric’s brother come for me again to allow me to see my sister, or would he demand some sort of favor first? He’d left me with the impression that my visit with Lana through the portal came at a price. I still didn’t know what or wh
en I’d have to pay.

  I let the hem of the dress slip from my fingers and reached back to touch the implant that pulsed faintly at the base of my skull, wondering if mentioning the portal and Lana to Lord Toric would bring punishment and the men in the dark green uniforms—Monitors—who had taken Iris and Samir away. Or would Jeric find out by some other means if I betrayed our pact?

  I left the black dress hanging on the door of the wardrobe while I bathed. After my bath, I stood in a robe and twisted the sides of my hair up and away from my face, securing the strands with pins. I considered the things I needed to bring up with Lord Toric while I had him alone.

  And my heart thumped even as my mind flitted around another question: would he ever kiss me again?

  I felt more than a little foolish mulling over such a thing when Iris was in danger and my own life hung in the balance, but . . . in spite of the many serious things that tugged at my thoughts, stirring them into an anxious, spinning dust devil, my heart stubbornly persisted in lifting on a warm draft of delight each time I remembered the intensity I’d felt, the exploding sensations, when the alien Lord’s lips had pressed against mine.

  The certainty that had filled me afterward—the conviction that Lord Toric and I were part of each other’s destinies—also returned.

  I angled my gaze up at the small porthole window in my tiny washroom, where the light of day was warming and fading into evening. The yellow-white glare of the dying semi-sun had already disappeared, having set earlier than the main suns of Calisto.

  The Third Sign of the Return, the Oracle had said.

  With a little shiver of surprise, I realized I wished to know more about the signs the Oracle spoke of, and the Calistans’ history of fighting the enemies who wanted to claim Earthenfell, and yes, even the Temple and the Priestess and those blasted sacred texts.

  I didn’t wish to learn more so that I could adopt the Calistans’ beliefs as my own, not by any stretch. I simply wanted to understand what was happening. I wanted context. Deep down, perhaps I hoped such knowledge would illuminate something of the fate of my family, my people back on Earthenfell.