Wicked Saints (Something Dark and Holy #1) - Emily A. Duncan Page 0,42

the sanctuary. She ground her teeth, but nodded.

“They wanted me … and him.”

“Because he’s one of them.”

Nadya nodded.

“We have to leave.”

Nadya shook her head. “I’m going to Tranavia. I’m going to end this war.”

Anna turned, but her movements were slow, horrified. “Nadya…”

“If this war were at a different place, if we weren’t losing, then I would go to Komyazalov from here. I would go to the Silver Court and let the king decide what to do with me. But I don’t have the luxury, Anna. You have to understand that.”

“So you’ll throw your lot in with that monster?”

“He saved my life,” Nadya said.

“Only so he can ruin it later!”

Nadya didn’t respond.

“Is this what the gods want?” she asked.

“It’s what I want.”

Anna tensed. “That doesn’t make a difference. You know that.”

“It’s still my life and I get a say in how I use it.”

Anna reared back, making the sign against evil over her heart. Nadya rolled her eyes.

“I have had the gods chattering in my head my whole life. I’ve had this … this destiny hovering over me and I think the least I can ask for is the choice in how I see it into being. If it means going with these foreigners and that monster, then so be it.”

“Do you hear yourself?”

Nadya didn’t understand why Anna was reacting so strongly. It was like Nadya was shattering the image of the innocent, holy cleric Anna had, but Anna knew her better than that. She was chosen by the goddess of death. She never had a chance at innocence.

Anna took Nadya’s face between her hands, forcing her to meet her gaze.

“I don’t want your name added into the book of saints,” she said quietly. “I thought—” Her voice cracked and she swallowed. “When half the sanctuary collapsed and we couldn’t find you, I thought…”

Nadya hugged her. Anna smelled of incense and a lingering reminder of home. The roads before her went in opposite directions but they would lead to the same end. The child in her yearned to see the famed Silver Court once more—the last time she had been there she was far too young to really remember. She wanted to see the dolzena with their kokoshniks and the voivodes before all that gold and splendor melted away for good. But to them she would be a soldier, nothing more, a holy relic, a symbol, perhaps. Nothing human.

Nadya loved her country—more than life—but she wanted to do something that mattered. She could bring the gods back to Tranavia if she did this. They would need to fine-tune the details of the plan on the road, but she felt a confidence she had never really known before. There was an element of divine providence—strange as the circumstances appeared—and Nadya wasn’t going to ignore it for the safer option.

She pulled away, heading off to find the others. She nearly ran into Malachiasz in the hallway. He looked frantic, making fear immediately spike through Nadya. He took her by the shoulders. “Can your magic heal?”

Nadya’s eyes widened and she nodded.

“Parijahan was fine,” Anna said.

“She’s decidedly not fine now,” he said, voice tight. The skin on his jaw was starting to purple as blood settled underneath the spot where Anna had punched him.

“Calm down,” Nadya said, touching his arm.

He blinked, his gaze dropping to where her fingers lightly pressed against his scarred forearm, and seemed to realize he still had her by the shoulders. He let go and stepped back.

He’s genuinely worried about her, Nadya thought, shocked. He cares.

“Is there any incense left in this place? I’m going to need it. A censer would be wonderful as well, if you saw any when you moved in. What kind of injury is it?”

“Her side is torn up. And yes, I can find some.” He took off at a run down the hall.

He returned swiftly with a dented censer, a pouch full of incense, and a few sticks that seemed to puzzle him. He handed them to Nadya with such an earnest expression on his face that her heart tripped over itself. She handed the censer to Anna, following Malachiasz into one of the side rooms.

Whoever had initially wrapped the wound on Parijahan’s side had done a good job but there was a darkness Nadya could sense in the jagged gash that was making it fester. Anna lit the censer. The scent of spice and holiness flooded the room almost instantly. Nadya relaxed and let her eyes shut. The smell was familiar, it was home. She