Smolder (Crown of Fae #3) - Sharon Ashwood Page 0,8
jerked a thumb toward the door, then scooped Elodie up with no more effort than if she were a toddler. The Master of Revels slid through the escaping crowd with surprising ease, Leena on his heels. He didn’t stop until they reached the door she had entered earlier that night.
Remmik was still on duty. He began to salute, but he was interrupted by Tovas thrusting Elodie into his arms.
“Take them to the temple at once,” Tovas ordered. “Don’t stop for anyone.”
Remmik wavered, but Tovas outranked him in the palace hierarchy. Leena cast a grateful look at the Master of Revels, who simply nodded. “I look after my children.”
Leena kissed his warty cheek, ready to weep with gratitude and exhaustion. They weren’t literal family, but the palace entertainers were close. He pushed the hair from her face with a fatherly gesture. “Go and be quick about it. I’ve heard the prince’s rages don’t last long. Eventually, the general will notice you’re gone.”
Leena was incredulous. “This has happened before? In front of Juradoc?”
“Morran’s too valuable to kill, so the general puts up with it.” Tovas gave her a gentle push to send her hurrying after Remmik.
Leena caught up, eager to get Elodie to the temple. The Mother of Flame—the high priestess of the temple—could heal such an injury if they got there in time. She hugged herself, willing Remmik to move faster.
Still, Leena missed her sandals—there had been no chance to gather her possessions, and her feet were bare. Even at the guardsman’s quick pace, the temple was a twenty-minute walk away. The streets were bad enough near the banquet hall, where they had been paved for carriages. Once they’d entered the narrow, winding alleys of the old quarter, Leena had to step carefully to avoid filth and broken glass. Remmik asked no questions, but marched onward without so much as meeting Leena’s eye.
“Do you need to rest?” Leena asked once, thinking Elodie must be growing heavy in his arms. Dropping her wouldn’t help anything.
Remmik cast a glance around the tall, narrow houses at the edge of the district where Leena lived. “No.”
Leena didn’t argue. He was an outsider in this neighborhood. Most buildings looked about to topple over, but every possible closet and cubby-hole was occupied by the Kelthians. With so many crowding in from the war-torn countryside, vacancies didn’t exist.
The Temple of the Flame stood at the end of a narrow road. Once—before the Shades and long before Lord Dorth—it had been a grand civic building. Now the marble crumbled from its facade. Even so, the Kelthian tribes had turned it into their spiritual home.
The temple’s healers were at the door before Remmik reached the porch steps. Leena guessed one of the temple cats swarming around their feet had seen them coming and run ahead to deliver the news. She climbed the steps, footsore and exhausted, but her heart rose as the Mother of Flame pushed through the crowd to greet them.
The Mother was tall and elegantly beautiful, with bright auburn hair pulled back to show the pointed tips of her ears. The long sleeves of her plain white gown were gathered into cuffs of copper engraved with intricate Kelthian knotwork. A matching torc circled her slender neck. She regarded Remmik with golden eyes slanted like a cat’s.
“Greetings, Guardsman Remmik,” she said. “We thank you for bringing our daughter home.”
At her gesture, three of the women took Elodie from his arms and disappeared inside the temple. The guard flexed his arms, apparently relieved to be free of his burden. Then Remmik bowed, remembering his manners. “It was my duty. I wish her a quick recovery.”
The Mother made a gesture, both an acknowledgment and a blessing. “Your good wishes are appreciated. May you have a peaceful night.”
Remmik departed at once, wasting no time to be free of the ramshackle neighborhood.
The Mother turned to Leena. “Come inside and tell me what befell you.”
Leena followed the Mother through the ancient marble halls. The place felt spacious and orderly after the chaos of the banquet hall. The temple in Eldaban was a tiny satellite to the Great Temple near Tymeera, but it was no less solemn. In the central rotunda, steps rose in tiers around a stone basin where the sacred Flame always flickered.
Their footfalls echoed as they crossed the rotunda on their way to the infirmary. As they went, Leena recounted the night’s events. She relaxed as she spoke, as if by sharing her story, she was healing herself.