Chapter 119: High Holy Days

  Things were so comfortable and smooth, Razia couldn’t help but fear the worst every day. Piro was still out there, and she doubted he forgave and forgot what they’d done to Christophe and the majority of their gang. Inspector Irwin hated their blatant and frequent trampling over the laws and being untouchable…so far. The Temple didn’t care for her either, and she’d pissed off plenty of others she forgot about.

  Most of the time, life was a big party among those she liked and loved, full of delicious gossip, petty drama, and the occasional big flare-ups at night. Razia was engaged and living life, happy as she’d ever been, but sometimes a chill went down her spine when the memories of her past misdeeds surfaced.

  But she didn’t like thinking about them. It was better to stay busy, and keep moving forward. Each day brought its own problems and adventures, more time to spend with the community she believed in.

  The Pierced Heart didn’t have a day of the week like most of the other gods, but was celebrated on the last day of the week, along with the Dominus, father of all. Most of the city worshiped at sunrise and sunset, singing hymns of their god/ess’ history, and stories of their divine intervention back when the gods still traveled the world.

  Devotees would celebrate with their best poetry, songs, and statues, as the sun rose. Others would worship with passion and pain as the day gave way to night and the restless city hungered for life and dreams.

  Ever since the miracle that brought Quentin back from the dead, they’d celebrated openly at the Moonlit Garden. Every week ended with a free show and group prayer, followed by donating a portion of what they made that night to the temple in tithes. It had been their compromise, and a way to ward off further bad blood.

  Today, they did laundry in the courtyard, carefully cleaned up each night. They’d moved the androgynous statue of the Pierced Heart with hands raised skyward into the center of the neighborhood, where all could pay their respects and make offerings.

  Razia knelt in front of the statue, eyes closed, and reached out with her heart for her connection to the Pierced Heart. Some days she felt something, other days she didn’t. Now, with her heart heavy and mind full of schemes and plans for their assassination, there was only silence.

  Sighing, she stood and hung a necklace of pearls around the statue’s open hand as an offering. It didn’t matter if the deity returned her attention. It was enough for Razia to show her devotion anyway. Life had been good to her. Better than she deserved, plenty would say. For whatever flaws she had, she was at least grateful.

  A tap on her shoulder made her turn around. Samantha had regained some of her lost weight and looked most of the way back to her cheerful, plump self. Except for the purple-stained throat, where a traitor’s poison had taken her voice and nearly her life. She smiled at her and said, “hello razia,” in a soft whisper.

  Razia threw her arms around her and squeezed tightly. They saw each other at least once a week, but Samantha was all but retired, and spent her time with her siblings, watching over them and being watched over in return. “Heya Sam. Let me get out of your way and give you a turn.”

  When she pulled back, Samantha made a grabbing motion and then clutched her breast over her heart with a smile. The meaning was clear, and Razia repeated the gesture back at her. Then the redhead knelt before the statue, palms raised to the heavens with two simple flowers as offerings.

  Ever since that one night, the statue hadn’t moved or changed. This time, it did. When Samantha held her flowers, one green, the other purple, the orchrisus flower blooming out of the statue’s chest shifted, taking on the two colors along with yellows and oranges. Razia gasped as the scent filled the hair, sharp and iridescent. That didn’t even make sense, but she felt it to be true.

  Samantha gaped silently. The two flowers fell to the ground, and Samantha to her hands and knees in supplication. The others in the courtyard did the same, until there were over a dozen people bowing, while a flutter went through Razia’s stomach.

  And then it was over, with only the real flower growing out of the statue as evidence. As far as miracles went, it was a minor one, but that didn’t change the fact that the statue had been the basis for two miracles now. When Razia and the others rose, the chatter rose to a cacophony. There was no hope of keeping this silent.

  Word spread instantly, and Razia and Isa had to quickly go into panic preparation mode for the attention they were about to get. It had been bad for a bit after Quentin had come back to life, but enough people didn’t believe it to be true that they’d been able to go undetected, with a lie from the Temple to help protect them. This was, she reflected, going to be a massive pain in the ass. They didn’t need this kind of scrutiny.

  Within just ten minutes, the courtyard had a line winding around the neighborhood and out of it. Their Shades blocked off all entrances but two, and set up shop, so to speak. After a few hours, Isa would’ve preferred it to be more literal.

  “All I’m saying is that we could charge for this and make a killing,” she muttered under her breath as another family came up to kneel before the statue and look upon the miracle orchrisus. It normally only bloomed at sunrise and sunset, but at this point noon had come and gone and the afternoon dragged on.

  “And all I’m saying is that would be blasphemy,” Razia said, not for the first time. They sat on comfortable chairs put out there and were in charge of directing the line and making sure people knew that any attempts to remove the miracle orchrisus would result in the removal of their hand. So far, only three people had to be discouraged.

  “Blasphemy,” Isa said in a mocking voice, but it was clear she didn’t mean it. The day had been hot, stressful, and dragged on. They were about due to get a break and have someone else worry about it for an hour. “If we charged even a qala for this…”

  “The Temple would probably make life very, very hard for us,” Razia finished. She finished off her water and wiped sweat from her brow. “We don’t need that right now, do we?”

  Isa clicked her tongue, but didn’t argue further. She just idly aired herself with an elegant peacock tail fan, and motioned for the next family to come up after the previous ones were ushered out the exit. Then came the next family.

  “Be blessed in the light of the Pierced Heart, but do not touch or attempt to take the flower,” Razia said, trying her absolute best to not sound bored and annoyed. Isa could get away with it better than she could. “We, and the god/ess, are watching closely.”

  The head of the family bowed, euphoric tears already coming to his eyes. Within the next two minutes, he and the rest of the family would likely sob and wail at the sky in the face of divinity. It had been impressive the first dozen times, but now it would’ve felt absurd, if the statue didn’t radiate a strange presence.

  “What do you think it means?” Isa said. “Like, the fact that we’ve had two miracles here. I’ve felt Dolas’ touch through me when I whipped Lucy. This clearly isn’t a fluke. What do you think it means for…well, everyone?”

  Razia had been asking herself the same question for hours. The boredom of dealing with people who wanted a taste of the miracle aside, it really was exciting and thought provoking. “I couldn’t say for certain,” she hedged, “but what if…what if they’re coming back?”

  Isa’s eyes slid up to the sky, where it was said they made their home amongst the stars. “Why now?”

  That was the question. If their histories were true, then it had been nearly two hundred years since they’d departed, after jealously warring with one another over the love of mankind. Two hundred years was beyond mere mortals, but what was it to a god who had lived possibly thousands of years? The statue offered no answers, just an odd sense of hope.

  “I don’t know,” Razia said with a weak, helpless smile. “But if they do, and it turns out the Pierced Heart doesn’t hate me, think they could tell the Temple to fuck off?”

  Isa snorted, and before long, the two of them dissolved into chaotic, unleashed laughter. The family worshiping at the statue turned to stare at them oddly, but Razia paid them no mind. This was nothing if not a sign that it would be time to take a break before the night’s offerings and prayers.

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  She stood and stretched in time for a murmur to pass through the crowd. Almost like a wave, heads turned to see something outside the neighborhood. A few people stepped aside, and two large, powerful men in scale armor pushed their way to the front of the line. They were the Pierce Heart’s symbol on their chests, and on their shields. Her stomach twisted.

  “Let them through,” Razia called out before a problem could develop. “The Moonlit Garden is open to all, especially representatives from the Temple.”

  The armored devotees got uncomfortably close, and she soon realized there were four of them, right as they stopped. With smooth, rehearsed movements they stepped to the side, revealing the important person they were escorting. It was a familiar face, and her heart pittered.

  “Maralanna, if I remember?” Razia asked, cocking her head to the side. She smiled with confidence she didn’t feel, and tried not to focus on how beautiful the priestess was. The woman was about her age, with short, spiky blond hair, milky skin, and tattoos covering who knew how much of her lithe, slender body. Vines twisted and traveled over her arms, ending in blooming flowers in the palm of her hands.

  “You remember,” the priestess said with a soft, half-smile. “Forgive me for saying so, but I was hoping we wouldn’t have to meet again for a while, if ever.”

  “Ahh, so we’re in trouble, then.” Razia looked around and whistled sharply. “Everyone, please give us the courtyard. I’ve got a feeling we’re going to need a touch of privacy, yeah?”

  There were a few nervous laughs, but it didn’t take much to get people out of the heat. The colored canopies were hung every day and provided shade, but they also blocked the breeze, and the people scattered. A few of her Shades remained, but the line retreated the way they came. Apparently, there was no shortage of miracles today.

  Isa remained, as Razia expected her to, and so did four Shades. They weren’t likely to get there in time if Maralanna’s men wanted them dead, but it at least appeared even. When they were alone, Razia poured some water from a pitcher and took a drink. “Alright, Maralanna. What do you have to say to us?”

  The priestess’ bright green eyes turned white as she gazed at the statue, then returned to normal. Her lips twitched into something resembling a smile. “I suppose I should congratulate you on another miracle. It’s rare to be blessed more than once, even in the Temple. However, this could be dangerous. I warned you last time that there’d be trouble if you didn’t stay out of our sight.”

  “Oh, was our weekly bribe not good enough?” Isa snarked. “How much ass-kissing do we need to do to be left alone?”

  Razia held a hand up, though there was no stopping Isa if she didn’t want to be stopped. “We didn’t exactly do this on purpose. We’re just trying to get by, and our dear Samantha prayed, and was answered.”

  Maralanna’s generous lips curled into a disbelieving sneer. “Are you really going to say that with a straight face? Your lover’s one of the most infamous men in the city. How many people have died in his, or your, name?”

  Razia flinched, but recovered quickly. “How many have died because the Temple was displeased at something you reported?” she shot back.

  The devotees unsheathed swords, but Maralanna held them back with a gesture. “Doing my duty isn’t the same as actively taking control of a huge swathe of the city for your own personal profit. However, your point is made. Believe it or not, I have no desire to see you die.”

  Isa snorted derisively. “Wise. If you did harm either of us, Quentin would tear the Temple down, brick by brick, no matter how stupid a move it would be.”

  It was true, but Razia was still surprised to hear Isa say it openly. “Not that we’re threatening anything,” she added with the same, confident smile. “No more than you bringing your goons is threatening us, at least.”

  “I…I didn’t want to bring them,” Maralanna admitted. “Our troubled relationship aside, I don’t think you wish me any harm.”

  Nothing permanent or unwanted, at least. Razia swallowed and shook her head. “No, I don’t. We don’t.” She shot a look at Isa. “I do wish you’d get to the point, though. Knowing you can make or break us makes this very stressful, you know, so just hit us with whatever it is.”

  The priestess smiled humorlessly. “I haven’t decided. At this point, I don’t think I could claim that this wasn’t a miracle. And it will most certainly come to light that the previous one was too. And that puts us in a conundrum, Razia. Some of the others want to shut this place down. Despite what you may think of us, we don’t throw our weight around without considering the consequences.

  “The Pierced Heart is a benevolent deity, with few strict tenets other than to listen to one’s heart and live life to the fullest. We at the Temple try to take a hands off approach and lead by example. As you may have experienced, that leads to some of our people getting a bit…full of themselves, and their role in the faith.”

  Maralanna paused, and eyed the cup of water. Razia handed it over wordlessly and the woman drank. Razia tried not to stare at the way the tattoos on her neck rippled with the movement. She was a constant riot of colors against a pale backdrop, and it was fascinating to watch.

  “Thank you. The point is, you do have supporters in the Temple, people who wish you well and want to foster any and all worship of our man of art and lady of pain. I’m one of them. If we had our way, you would be given our blessing and be seen as an extension of the Temple. Which would effectively make you an extra location, with authority.”

  “We have our own authority,” Isa said, but it was half-hearted at best.

  Razia may have been reckless, but she wasn’t stupid. That would be about the biggest thing the Moonlit Garden could ever ask for. Legitimacy in the eyes of the patron deity of Orchrisus would be a special brand of protection from their enemies, and a terrible obligation to fall in line and maintain an honorable reputation if they wanted to keep their perks.

  “And if you don’t get your way?” Razia pressed. “What happens then?”

  Maralanna made a show of looking at the two nearest devotees, grim and staring like stone statues. “If the others get their way, you will be branded as godless and liars. We won’t do anything else. We won’t have to. You’ll be abandoned by some of the faithful, and seen to by others.”

  Isa opened her mouth to snarl, but Razia turned and put her arms on the dusk-girl’s shoulders. “Why don’t you go inside? Warn Quentin about this. I’ll handle it as best as I can, okay? I’m asking you to trust me.”

  She got the worst stink-eye in her life in response. “I don’t like this. I don’t like the pressure, I don’t like being threatened by some stuck-up -- “

  “I know,” said Razia, soothingly. “I know. I don’t either. Let me handle this. Please, Isa.”

  She capitulated with a sigh and stormed off towards Quentin’s home, where he was likely reading to relax before nightful.

  Razia turned back to Maralanna and spread her hands pleadingly. “So, what do we need to get your support instead of your ire? What could tip things over in our favor?”

  “For a start, less murder and breaking the law.” Maralanna smiled in spite of herself. “We cannot be associated with common criminals.”

  “What about uncommon, or even rare criminals?”

  “Dammit Razia,” Maralanna’s voice raised sharply. Only for a second, but losing control cost her something. She took a steadying breath and said, “I understand what you’re doing, even if I don’t care for it or condone it. But if you want to get through this and earn our blessing, you need to be without scandals or controversy. Do you understand?”

  She understood. The assassination would have to be pulled off perfectly, or it would fuck them over like nothing else.

  Razia crossed her arms over her chest. “Do we have a time frame in mind for this?”

  “However long it takes me to convince more people that it’s the right thing to do.” Maralanna shrugged, and in that moment no longer seemed as ethereal or powerful. She sounded tired. “I’ve said it before, I’ll say it again. Help me help you, Razia.”

  She nodded thoughtfully. “Why? Why do you want to help us out so badly? What makes us so special compared to all the other people you’ve no doubt had to intimidate into falling in line? I’m honestly asking, not trying to stir the pot. Why us?”

  Maralanna met her eyes, and a shudder went down Razia’s spine. It lasted for just two seconds, maybe three, before the priestess looked away. “Because you fascinate me. I understand what the other priests and priestesses mean about you being a chaotic mess, but…I want to see where this goes. What you’ll do. And I want to spread the love of Dolas everywhere I go.

  “In you, I think I sense their touch and spirit. Not in the same way I see their touch on this statue, but something…smaller, and closer. Would you be willing to come to the Temple with me sometime? As a guest, not a prisoner. I would love to worship with you.”

  Razia swallowed, and a wave of hunger hit her like it hadn’t in months. She liked to think she was in control of her urges and desires, and fed often and freely, but this was something raw and primordial. It was the first time she’d felt it since Quentin had gotten into a terrible brawl protecting her friends, and it threatened to bowl her over.

  “I think I’d like that, sometime,” Razia said quietly. “But not today. I have to talk with my partner. What you’ve asked is difficult. We’re trying our best to limit the violence and keep things smooth, but…”

  The tattooed woman smiled sadly. “It’s always struck me as sad, how many events and movements are set on their trajectory. So much tragedy and pain could be avoided if we were able to change our minds and our choices.”

  Razia shook her head. “Why avoid pain, when it makes the beauty in our lives stand out more? We must follow the callings of our heart, no matter where they lead.”

  “You’re right,” Maralanna sighed. “Then please, if and when you would like to come for a visit, send a Fleetfoot and I will arrange for safe passage from you. Not even Piro Pentius would dare attack the Temple,” she said.

  “Okay,” said Razia, and that was that. The other woman, with one last, lingering look, took her escorts and exited the way they came. The Shades watched her curiously, no doubt already deciding on what gossip to spread around.

  Well, let them. They’d bought themselves a little more time, but…Gods, this was going to be hell on their plans. Caught between the Supreme Arbiter and one of the Temple’s star priestesses…Razia had no idea which way they’d go, and the uncertainty scared her.

  All she knew was that, sooner or later, she would take Maralanna up on her offer of worship.