she called out to Katla.
Julia closed her eyes, cringing at Shona’s question, but Katla didn’t need that cringe as confirmation. Because she recognized that horse. She’d helped pull it out of its mother when it was born. Watched as it had taken its first wobbly steps, then as it grew strong and powerful. Then came the day she’d recommended it for placement among the warhorses.
Katla slapped her hand at the back of Julia’s neck and yanked her close, pressing her lips against the monk’s ear.
“Where is she?” Katla snarled.
* * *
They entered the Chamber of Valor, where many of the order’s major decisions, rulings, laws, and judgments were made.
“I know,” the master sergeant explained to the outsiders, “that you see all the weapons on these walls and think you’d like to handle them, but please understand that they are under the protection of ancient magicks. Touch them with the knowledge that you risk your very lives by doing so.”
Of course, as he spoke those words, the centaur siblings had already grabbed two weapons off the walls and were looking them over. Gemma immediately yanked the double-headed battle axe and skull-headed mace from their hands just as the monks faced their group. The master sergeant scowled at her.
“What are you doing?” he demanded.
Gemma glanced at the weapons she held. “Just remembering how these used to feel in my hands . . . that’s all.”
She would have put the weapons back herself but they were quickly snatched from her grip by low-level monks and returned to their places of honor.
“Hands off, traitor,” someone hissed at her.
“Only those without disgrace may touch these weapons,” the master sergeant reminded her. And then he suddenly pointed at her. “And that I do not miss, Brother Gemma!”
“What?”
“That eye roll.”
“Thought you only did that with your sister . . . and me,” Quinn softly teased.
“Shut up,” she replied. But not harshly. She was glad, for once, of his humor. She needed it at the moment. They kept her from reacting harshly to such rudeness.
The monks moved around the chamber, getting into place.
“I thought all these weapons were bewitched or something,” Quinn remarked.
“They are. Which begs the question, why were you and your sister able to not only touch them but remove them from the wall and toy with them?”
He shrugged. “To most magicks, centaurs are considered animals.”
“What?”
“Most magicks can’t harm animals because in the eyes of most gods, they are innocents. So while spells and curses might cause you great harm, they do nothing to us.”
“That makes sense.”
“And, of course, every god has its favorites. Turns out, centaurs are the favorites of most if not all gods.”
“How do you know that?”
“Look at us. We’re gorgeous.”
She glared at him. “Why do I bother talking to you at all?”
“I have no idea.”
* * *
Quinn glanced at his sister and then at the room they were in. She gave a short nod, understanding him. This Room of Pestilence or Chamber Pot of Desecration or whatever the monks called it did not merely have a few weapons on the walls. Keeley’s forge had a few weapons. This room, however . . .
The weapons not only covered the walls, they covered the ceiling as well. And all of them were usable. If necessary.
“Brother Gemma,” the master sergeant called out. “Come forward.”
It bothered Quinn that these monks who kept calling Gemma a traitor also insisted on calling her “Brother Gemma.” Especially when she wasn’t wearing her tunic. Quinn got the feeling they were doing that for a very specific reason and not a good one.
Gemma walked forward and Quinn motioned Samuel to his side.
“Tell me what’s going on, Samuel.”
“Tell you? Won’t you just get bored?”
The boy had a point. Most things bored Quinn and monk-based ceremonies would probably top the list if he’d been forced to go to any before.
“Fine. Go tell my sister then. Keep her apprised so nothing takes her off guard.”
Samuel patted his shoulder. “That does make more sense.”
Quinn glared at the hand on his shoulder and Samuel quickly removed it before turning to Laila and whispering to her.
Unable to make out what was being said, Quinn simply watched what was happening around him.
Gemma waited in front of a raised dais that the master sergeant stood upon. It took a moment to realize that she was positioned in the middle of the rune of their chosen god. Once again, something that Quinn felt wasn’t necessarily a good thing, but perhaps not bad either.
“So,” the master sergeant said, “tell us why