their ears, and no longer will my family bear my shame.”
“Must you die?” The skeptical arch of the priestess’s brow said not.
But Lizzan knew it was true. “To all of Koth, I am a villain. And no villain was ever redeemed, except in death.”
“I know of many villains who were redeemed and lived.”
Perhaps a priestess did. “But the people of Koth do not. Those stories are never retold. I cannot think of one villain who is as reviled as I am, and who did not have to die. Not one.”
“But you are no true villain. You did nothing wrong.”
For all that it mattered. “That is not the story told. So I need a story that will be sung until it reaches every ear on Koth.”
“And you think I will point you toward this glorious battle?”
“I hope you will, for I know not where to go.”
“You know exactly where to go, if you intend to find your way to my alliance and to stand against the Destroyer.”
“I do. But I am lost, and know not where to begin.” Lizzan pushed the tears from her eyes with the heels of her hands. So dazzling the woman’s gaze was now. “I know a quest will take me far away from all I know and love.”
“I daresay you have already done that.”
So she had. “I have also known pain at the edge of my enduring.”
As all who quested for Vela must endure.
“Have you?”
Her throat clogged by emotion, Lizzan nodded.
“You have not yet,” the priestess said.
Yet. “Then I will endure it.”
“So you will.” Her voice warmed, as if touched by a southern heartwind. “A quest is often for those who do not yet know their own strength. But there is little you can learn, Lizzan, for you have always known yours.”
A pained laugh shook through her. “So I have. But no one else did.”
“One did.”
Aerax. Hurt gripped her chest, and she could only respond with silence.
The priestess gave a heavy sigh. “Then I will start you on this path. This is what you must do—leave this temple, and vow to protect with your life the first person you see. And on the day of the first snowfall, you will know honorable and glorious death, and your name will become legend.”
Relief loosened the constriction on her heart. “I thank you.”
“You thank me for nothing.” Her cold fingers brushed Lizzan’s cheek. “It gives me no pleasure that you ask this of me, and that you are brought to this. But I would help you on your journey, as I do those who quest for me—though you must promise me first that you will drink no more. For if you continue on that path, you might soon care more for your ale than your honor.”
Lizzan would never do such a thing. Yet it was a promise she could easily make. Untying her flask, she placed it into the offering bowl. “No more.”
The woman regarded her with shining eyes. “You are certain? Not even children’s mead can you have.”
Lizzan frowned. That weak mead barely warmed the gut, but there was little other option that she dared consume. “What am I to drink, then? If it is water, then it had best rain often, or I will always be shitting myself.”
Behind her veil, the priestess’s mouth curved. “I will help you in that, too, and purify all that passes between your lips.”
Lizzan nodded, and then her breath caught like a knife in her throat when the priestess lifted her hands. From the woman’s glowing fingers dangled a silver chain and a small medallion.
Her father’s medallion—which Lizzan had tossed into the lake by the King’s Walk, with the silver still slick with her blood and his. Where the waters were so deep, no hope was there of retrieving it.
Yet the priestess held that necklace now. “Lower your head to me.”
Shaking, Lizzan did.
“This was always meant to be yours.” Those frigid fingers brushed Lizzan’s skin when she settled the chain around her neck. “Do not throw it away again.”
“I will not,” Lizzan whispered, clutching the medallion as it nestled between her breasts. “How was it meant to be mine?”
“That I cannot tell you,” said the priestess, and her voice was warmer and softer now, her face again concealed by the veil. “But as you start down this path Vela has set you on, perhaps you will learn.”
This path. Which would begin outside this temple.
Heart pounding with anticipation, Lizzan strode to the doors, then out into the warm and humid air. A flash