Vaela stumbled back from the door and fled across the room. She eased the far door shut just as Kaverlna exited her room. Vaela raced back down the hall and slipped back into the waiting room. She fell back against the door, her chest heaving. What just happened?

The image of Kaverlna throwing the Fireball at Gerad played through her mind over and over. His screams as he had rolled on the ground in agony echoed through her head. And the Fire glinting in Kaverlna’s eyes. It wasn’t just the Firelight reflecting back. It was the look in her eyes. Hunger. Lust. Then the satisfaction afterwards.

Kaverlna’s footsteps tapped down the hallway. Vaela glanced around. Only a table with two chairs decorated the room. Vaela scurried into the chair and steadied her breathing. Whatever just happened, she and Surah were getting out of here and soon.

Kaverlna opened the door and stepped inside. “Now, to your education.”

Under the table, Vaela rolled her walking stick back and forth between her sweaty hands. Act normal, be calm. She peered around Kaverlna at the door. “Where’s the other guy?”

Kaverlna swung the door shut. “Don’t concern yourself with him. He had duties to attend to that he’d shirked.” She rested her hands on the back of the other chair, but didn’t pull it out. “Duty, yes. Do you believe in destiny?”

“What?” Vaela sat back, temporarily stopping her fidgeting.

“Destiny. The philosophy that the great Creator has chosen a path for each of us.”

“Oh, you mean bullshit? Nah, I try not to touch the stuff.” She leaned back and brushed an imaginary speck of the tip of her stick.

“I agree.”

“Huh?”

Damn it, that was the second time the priestess had surprised her already, in this room alone! Vaela crossed her arms and uncrossed them, drumming the table with one hand.

“I agree. Your phrasing is crude, something to be worked on. But the idea stands.” Kaverlna raised a hand and slowly clenched it into a fist. “Those who look to another haven’t the iron in their veins to bend this world to their will.”

That hunger. Vaela suppressed a chill. Even without Fire reflecting in Kaverlna’s eyes, they still glinted. Vaela swirled her stick over her head, indicating the room. “You say that, but the Church. Wasn’t it you who said, ‘blood always returns to the heart’? Well, I’ll do you one better. Blood goes where the heart pumps it. Too bad the brain doesn’t get much say in that.”

That oughta show her!

Kaverlna unfurled her fist and slowly smiled, an expression even worse than the hunger. She placed her hands on the table, leaning towards Vaela. “You have Power. Not just being Blood-blessed, that’s a happenstance of birth.”

Vaela fought the instinct to lean away, to break eye contact. Kaverlna’s eyes were fervent, bright with something, but she didn’t know what. What did she want?

How had Kaverlna used Fire? Vaela’s hand slid under the table and joined her other one on the stick, wringing it tightly.

Could she also use Fire? If she drank…?

Kaverlna’s fingers curled, her nails raking along the wood. “You have something more. Blood thirst. I see it in you.”

Vaela shoved back from the table. She jolted to her feet and turned away. “I’m not like you.”

“Oh, but you are. And I could show you Power.”

Vaela crossed the room and threw the door open. “Keep it. I’ll find my own, thanks.” Time to get out of here. Grab Surah and never come back.

Kaverlna clasped her hands behind her back and paced over to her. “As you wish. I won’t keep you.” She stepped past Vaela and gestured her down the hall opposite the way they’d come.

“Where’s Surah?”

“The Fire-blessed? Enjoying the fruits of the Church. You did come for a meal.”

Vaela stepped up to Kaverlna. “Take me to him.”

“You said you wanted to leave.”

“I’m leaving with him.”

A faint smirk touched Kaverlna’s lips. She walked past Vaela, back in the direction of the dining hall. Vaela’s heart pounded as she followed after. The dark halls pressed all around as they wound through the building. Shadows seemed to reach out to her in the flickering light.

After a few minutes of winding through the building, Kavernla stopped in front of a portrait of a tall man. He wore rust-colored robes, but with a golden sash around his shoulders. His chest was carved into, a gory recess where his heart should have been. In one hand, he held a curved knife, slick with blood. In the other hand, he held his own heart.

Kaverlna bowed her head. “St. Incus. Our founder.”

“Sweet sash.”

“It is said he is one of the holy Created. He blesses Dome with his presence, taking a human host in one who is worthy.”

“Wow, and who wouldn’t want to join the Church? You get free robes and your heart carved out?”

“It is said that one will be Chosen. And before they ascend to the Peaks, they will drink of the fount of Blood and taste Power unimaginable.”

“Well, I–” Vaela glanced at Kavernla. The hunger was back in her eyes, it clung to her entire body like a tension haunting her frame. No, not hunger. Thirst. Blood thirst.

She couldn’t really think…? None of this was real, just silly dogma.

Vaela stared at the grisly portrait. St. Incus’ fingers clawed into the heart in a vice-like grip, as if to wring every ounce of blood from it. “How does one get Chosen?”

Kaverlna brushed a hand to her hip like someone touching a familiar pendant on their belt. “Chosen.” Her eyes narrowed and her fingers pressed more firmly into the fabric of her robes, outlining the vials hidden underneath. “Only sheep are chosen. A wolf chooses.”

This narrative has been purloined without the author's approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.

Vaela broke away from the portrait. She ran a hand over the ridges of her stick. “Yeah, well, as I said, ‘blood goes where the heart tells it’.”

Kaverlna whipped her hand back from her belt. “Indeed.” She faced Vaela. “And yet, there are those who control Blood, the very essence of life itself.” She stepped past Vaela, facing the opposite direction of her, and leaned down to whisper in her ear. “Soon, you will taste that Power.” She straightened before Vaela could answer and strode down the hall.

Vaela glanced back at the portrait. The blood that dripped from the heart fell towards a hammer resting on an anvil. The anvil itself was splattered with blood, but the hammer was clean.

Forging.

A detail most people might not notice, given the rest of the gory scene. He was Imbuing the hammer with his Power. She did it herself to create the Charms sold at Madame Gavora’s shop.

Yes, for most people, only the heart could tell blood what to do.

She turned and followed Kaverlna.

They returned to the dining room. Surah sat behind a plate strewn with crumbs and bits of cheese, gesturing wildly, mid-story. The priests and priestesses stared at him wide-eyed, some aghast, though the blonde priestess leaned forward over the edge of her chair. Surah spread his hands wide.

“–so he’s naked now, in the middle of the lake, and I reach down and feel the biggest–”

Kaverlna cleared her throat. Everyone collectively jumped. The blonde priestess practically fell out of her chair, her face flaming. Kaverlna pointed Vaela to the table and snapped her fingers. A priest hurriedly brought a chair over next to Surah. Vaela flopped down, shooting him a withering look. He smiled innocently and slid his plate over to her.

At least he was making their exit easier. At this rate, they’d be kicked out. Kaverlna stood at the head of the table, disapproval radiating down on them. Vaela poked a piece of cheese. Between watching Gerad get toasted and that portrait of St. Incus, she wasn’t hungry.

But it’d be rude not to eat.

She piled food on her plate and started in, ignoring the looks of the clergy. Damned if it wasn’t good! Church might be a little preachy, but they sure knew how to make a spread. She looked around for a cup.

Kaverlna clapped her hands. “How rude. Our guests have nothing to drink.”

The blonde priestess jumped to her feet. “Apologies, high priestess! I’ll fetch water.”

“No. Wine.”

The priestess’s eyes widened and she glanced at Vaela.

Kaverlna waved the younger woman back to her seat. “Sit. I’ll get it.”

The blond priestess fell back to her seat, shocked, as a murmur ran through their rest of the table’s ranks. Kaverlna walked to the far wall and pulled a bottle of wine and three metal chalices from the cabinet.

Surah nudged Vaela and leaned in. “Hey, this place is great. Good thinking coming here.”

Kaverlna faced away from them, the trickle of wine tinkling in the silence. Her robes obscured the movements of her arms. The wine had been poured, what was taking her so long? She wouldn’t actually…?

Vaela strained her ears for the sounds of dripping or uncorking or any indication Kaverlna had poured one of those vials of blood into the drinks. She sidled up to Surah. “Don’t dri–”

The gaze of the priest across the table from her, cut her off. She couldn’t talk openly here. Rouse their suspicions and who knew what would happen to them.

“Uh, don’t drink too much.”

Surah patted her on the arm. “It’s sweet that you care, but no. I’m far too ebriated to decline free wine.”

“Surah–”

Kaverlna carried the chalices back on a tray and extended one each to Vaela and Surah. Vaela reluctantly took it. The red liquid betrayed no clues of its contents other than ordinary wine.

Kaverlna held hers up. “To the Church. Whose generosity slakes our soul’s thirst.” She brought the chalice to her lips. “May we drink of its fount and taste its Power.”

Vaela raised her own chalice to her mouth, her hand beneath the table tightening around her walking stick. Had she done it? Poured a vial into her wine?

And if Kaverlna had, would Vaela taste it?

She smelled a faint metallic scent. The chalice or the wine? It was impossible to tell.

Kaverlna tipped the chalice back and drained its contents.

What did Power taste like?

No!

Vaela hurled her chalice at the priest across from her and knocked Surah’s out of his hand. It clattered against the table and its contents splattered across the wood. Kaverlna peered over the rim of her chalice. Fury bore through her eyes. A hunger awakened.

Vaela grabbed Surah’s arm and jerked him to his feet. “Run!” She bolted for the exit, Surah stumbling behind her.

“After them!”

Vaela and Surah sprinted out of the room as chairs screeched against the floor. She spun and flung the door shut. Two priests and a priestess raced towards them before the door slammed closed. Surah pulled her arm and they fled down the hallway. A moment later, the door banged open behind them.

They tore around the corner into the main entryway of the church. Surah reached the door first and ripped it open. Vaela jumped through it as shouting erupted from the entrance hall. Surah ran past and pulled the door closed, but a jerk from the other side yanked the handle from his hands. The door flew open, revealing a large priest. Behind him, another barrelled forward, a sword in his hands.

Vaela swung her stick upward between the man’s legs and met a fleshy resistance, followed by the man’s scream. He doubled over and she kicked him back into the armed priest behind him. They tumbled to the floor and Vaela slammed the door shut. She and Surah sprinted all the way across the church’s grounds before the door opened again.

Kaverlna stood in the doorway, the light silhouetting her rust-colored robes. She made no motion to pursue them. Vaela caught her eyes. The blood lust shone through, even across the distance. Vaela raised her stick as if to ward off the wanton hunger. In Kaverlna’s eyes, Vaela could finally see it.

She wasn’t a heathen to Kaverlna. A rebel or even a recruit. She was wayward blood, flowing in defiance of the heart. And Kaverlna didn’t want to teach her.

She wanted to control her. Break her will and force her to flow as she was told.

Maybe to prove her worth to her precious St. Incus. Maybe some other twisted reason.

Vaela fully faced Kaverlna and thrust her chin into the air. Yeah, well, she wouldn’t come crawling over for some pitiful offer of Power. She thrust her walking stick overhead.

This. This was all she needed.

She lowered the stick until it pointed at Kaverlna and then spat on the ground. Kaverlna stepped out of the threshold and the priest with the sword exited the church along with several others. Kaverlna barked a command and strode back into the church. The priest waved the others towards them and they charged down the lawn.

Vaela and Surah raced through the streets, turning corner after corner at random. The footsteps behind them grew fainter and eventually the shouting receded into the distance. They ducked into a dark alley and both collapsed against the wall, wheezing.

Surah slid down until he sat on the ground. “Where do we go? We’ve got to hide.”

Vaela rested her head back against the wall and closed her eyes. “Yeah, at least for the night.” They’d lay low for a while. Kaverlna would lose interest after a few days. And if not…

She’d figure that out later. For now, they had to find a place to shack up. “Do you know anyone from the Loin’s Den who would–”

“Take in someone wanted by the Church of Blood? No chance. I wouldn’t do it and I’m a delight, a natural host.”

“Is that right?”

“It’s a gift and a curse.”

Vaela grinned and tapped her head against the wall a few times. Shit, what had she gotten herself into? No money, hunted by priests, no resources at all. She dug into her pockets for something, anything, to help them. Her eyes jolted open.

Surah cringed and huddled up to her. “What?! What is it?”

She pulled the coin Timura had given her from her pocket and held it in front of his face. “Our answer.”

Surah took the coin and turned it over a few times. “This isn’t even a real coin.”

Shouting drew nearer to them, coming from the main street that the alley branched from. These priests didn’t give up. Kaverlna didn’t seem the type to let failure slide. Too bad for them.

Vaela hopped to her feet and plucked it back from him. “True. How do you feel about super secret societies hidden in basements?”

Surah rose and straightened his robe. “Eh, they’re okay.”

“Let me rephrase: you like super secret societies hidden in dank basements.”

Surah brightened and he grinned. “Ah! Excellent.”

The priests’ footsteps loomed closer. Vaela pocketed the token and crept down the alley with Surah just behind. A little further and they’d be out.

A shout echoed down the alley. One priest, carrying a spear, waved down the alley. The blonde priestess jumped into sight, joining him. She carried a metal staff, slightly taller than herself. Upon seeing them, she grabbed the tip. Ice crept along the end and sharpened into a point. She and the other priest leveled their spears at them and charged down the alley.

Vaela and Surah sprinted for the exit into the main street.