When Annatta had said there would be a party, Jasper’s mood had sunk a bit. It wasn't that he didn't like parties, but a royal party drew up images of eloquent courtly affairs, stilted conversation, and the occasional duel to the death.

He could not have been more wrong.

Annatta must have had some way to signal her employer of their return to the palace enclave, as when she led them to Lord S̆arrābī’s manor, the party - and Lord S̆arrābī - already awaited them. Jasper suffered through the unwelcome hug his uncle lavished on him - appearances were necessary to keep up - but he didn’t have to suffer through the party.

The night passed in a haze of music, drink, and dancing more suited to a nightclub than a ballroom. There was plenty of socializing, too; in a few hours he met more of his peers than he had the entire rest of the time he had been at the palace - and, in his drunken state, may have promised more than a few random strangers a chance to buy one of the dorēsah babies they had captured. But more than anything else, the night was simply freeing - free of the danger, of the obligations, of the endless machinations that had swept him up since arriving in Corsythia. For one night, he didn't have to worry about any of it. So it was that the sun was already high in the heavens by the time he finally crawled into his bed and passed out.

Jasper awoke with a groan, realizing with some surprise, once he managed to pry his eyes open a crack, that he had somehow made it back to his house. His head felt like it had been run over by a semi and the veins on the side of his temple pulsed with every beat of his heart. The curtains, at least, had been drawn by some kindly servant, preventing the blinding light of morn from adding to his torture. He lay there for a few minutes, unmoving, before he managed to work up the will to actually move. A healing potion should fix me right up, he realized.

It took him a while to find his bag, as his befuddled mind was slow to come to the realization not only did he not know where his bag was, but he was also no longer dressed in the clothes of the previous night. Instead, he was dressed in a simple red silk tunic, cut in the fashion the Djinn wore to bed. “Selene’s grace,” he swore to himself. “Someone else dressed me?” His head pounded with every step, but his efforts were rewarded when he spied a neatly folded pile of clothes sitting on a lounge that stretched beneath the window and, beside them, perched his bag.

His tongue felt swollen and parched, but the instant the potion made contact, it began to work its magic. Within seconds the frenzied throbbing of the bongoes in his mind was silenced. Jasper bottled the rest of the potion back up, and shoved the vial into his bag carelessly. He was about to close it up, but paused when he noticed the small folded letter lying beside it. Oh yeah, I was supposed to meet with Abnu’s contact to find out more about the cult.

Curious, Jasper fished the letter out of the bag and checked it, quickly confirming his memory of the name and location of the contact. Why not go do it now? he decided. Tossing his clothes back on, he slipped quietly into the hall, his footsteps padded by the plush carpet. When he peaked into Ihra’s room, he found her still asleep. She was splayed across the bed in a tangle of limbs, her long hair sprawling across the pillows, and a dribble of drool had mounted an expedition from her mouth. She, too, had been changed from her clothes of the previous day which, silly as it was, made Jasper feel a smidge less embarrassed.

He tried shaking her shoulder gently, but she didn’t even budge, her snores resolutely filling the room with a steady cadence. I guess I’ll let her sleep, he decided and retreated from her room, closing the door softly behind him. Not wanting to meet Abnu’s contact alone, Jasper considered inviting Annatta to join him - hell, he knew she would be upset if he went without her; she was, after all, technically his bodyguard. But after a moment’s consideration, he realized he actually had no idea where Annatta lived - she just sort of showed up at his manor most days. Are there barracks? Does she have a house? Unsure, he decided not to wait around. Instead, he slipped out of the house quietly, though, not without leaving a note on the table to let Ihra know where he went, in case she woke up before his return.

By the time he reached the palace gate, the morning light had just begun to peak above the mountain peaks. Jasper generally wasn’t a morning person but even he had to admit that it was a perfect morning. The air was pleasantly cool, still hours before the heat of the day would reach its zenith, and a gentle zephyr played with his hair as he rode along the shady path. Caught in the morning sun, the trees’ leaves glowed with light, giving an almost magical feel to the forest.

He avoided the main entrance of the enclave, choosing instead to leave by the smaller gate Annatta had first taken him through. The guards nodded respectfully as he approached; they may not have known him, but the red, scaled tunic he wore and the impressive horse he rode left no doubt in their minds as to his importance. They hustled to open the gate and, after only a few moments of waiting, the great metal doors slid wide to let him pass.

The streets outside were already bustling. A handful of wagons were still out making their final deliveries before their traffic was shut down for the day, but already they were fighting to make progress through the crowds of pedestrians that occupied the streets. Jasper didn't have that problem though, as the people parted before him and his giant horse like the waves at Moshe’s feet; it wasn't necessary, but many even bowed their heads respectfully as he passed, just in case the unknown noble was more important than he appeared.

But that didn’t mean his progress was slowed down for other reasons. Despite having spent several weeks at the palace, this was the first time Jasper had ventured out into the capital by himself and it wasn’t long before the familiar icons that surrounded the palace enclave faded away. He had expected that, of course - he wasn’t stupid - but he had assumed he could simply ask for directions. Very quickly, though, he realized that he had been sorely mistaken. S̆addānu was a city whose size rivaled the metropolises of earth, and the majority of the population were devotees of S̆ams̆a, not Nahrēmah. So his dismay only grew as one by-passer after another told him, with a regretful shake of their heads, that they simply didn’t know where the temple he sought was.

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Jasper was beginning to think he would be forced to turn back to the palace - hopefully, he could sneak in before his friends realized he was gone - when an unexpected voice rang out behind him. “Going somewhere?”

Whirling around in his saddle, Jasper met Annatta’s gaze with a guilty grin.

Her lips were drawn tight in a scowl, but the twitch in her upper lip betrayed her. Selene’s grace, he sighed in relief, realizing with surprise that he was actually happy to see her. That's a first. He reined Dapplegrim in so she could sidle up beside him. “How did you find me?”

The Djinn rolled her eyes but, as they were out in public, she responded with the appropriate show of deference. “You’re not exactly a subtle figure, Lord Yas̆peh. The guards let me know you had left, and it wasn’t hard to follow the trail of passerbyers that had seen a noble on a strange horse asking for directions. But why are you looking for a temple to Nahrēmah?”

Her brows were creased as she asked the question, and he was surprised to notice a hint of worry in her eyes. “Why not? I have a mission to fulfill, after all.”

“Mission? Is Lord S̆arrābī investigating her cult?” It hit Jasper then that he had never actually told her about his mission from Kas̆dael, and he filled her in quickly, although he didn’t mention Kas̆dael’s backup plan. That was barely something he could even acknowledge to himself.

“Huh. Maybe that’s why the guard are no longer allowed to join the cult,” Annatta commented when he finished explaining the situation.

His ears pricked up. “Really? Were there a lot of guards that belonged to the group?”

“A decent amount, I guess? I mean, the cult of Nahrēmah caters to warriors, so it’s not surprising that they had a following among us. I know my mentor and some of his friends used to belong to the cult, until the guard banned it around the time I was in my first year of real classes. Never gave a reason for it, at least officially.” She shrugged. “So, what’s your plan? Go to a temple, by yourself, that’s potentially filled with wicked cultists who want to kill you?”

He frowned. “Well, when you put it like that, it sounds stupid,” Jasper admitted. “But I’ve already survived more than a few attempts on my life without your help.”

To his surprise, she didn’t respond snarkily. Instead, the Djinn nodded her head in agreement. “Yes, you’ve proven yourself more capable than I expected, but it’s always a good idea to have a little backup on hand.”

He conceded the point. “Fine, you can come.”

Annatta smirked. “I’m glad I, your bodyguard, have permission to accompany you, my lord.”

He laughed, raising his hands in mock defeat. “Stop, stop - you’ve already won. Speaking of which,” he continued more soberly, “you wouldn’t by any chance know where the temple is, would you?”

“Indeed, I do, Lord Yas̆peh,” she replied with mock primness.

“And?” he questioned after a moment of silence.

“You're going the wrong way.”

The temple, as it turned out, lay on the far side of the city. Most of S̆addānu rested on the western shores of the river Balṭu, but a portion of the settlement had spilled out onto the delta across the river and it was there that the temple resided.

It was actually smaller than the complex at the village springs, lacking the extensive wings of rooms that the other temple had offered, but despite its size, the temple Nahrēmah bustled with a crowd far larger than the Keeper’s temple.

Tying Dapplegrim up to a hitching post outside, he flashed his mother’s signet to the bored guards watching the steps, and they stepped aside to let the two of them pass.

Loud shouting echoed down the dim hall as they stepped into the temple, the reason for which quickly became clear when they reached the large, sandy courtyard. A few hundred Djinn filled the court, moving in lock motion with each other as they followed the routine demonstrated for them. “Guess we arrived in time for the morning exercise,” he explained to Annatta.

He skirted around the edges, ignoring the judgmental glances cast his way by the instructors when he didn’t join the routine. Privilege had its perks though. The temple's staff may not have known who he was, but his rich clothes and wine-colored skin left little doubt as to his association with the royal house, so the instructors let him pass without so much as a peep.

Not wanting to flaunt his special treatment, the two quickly passed through the courtyard and ventured into the larger temple complex beyond, not stopping until they stumbled upon a small, shaded garden. Large lush bushes covered the garden, with tall flowery stalks whose sticky, sweet smell vaguely reminded him of ornamental pear or, perhaps more accurately, what ornamental pears smelled like. But the centerpiece of the garden was an elegant copper fountain, decorated with a heavily patinaed sculpture of three heroic figures Jasper didn't recognize. Taking a seat, the two waited patiently for the morning exercise to end.

After half an hour, the first few trickles of the crowd begin to flow past the smaller courtyard. Jasper thought about getting up to search for Abnu’s contact, but the seraph found him first.

Much like Abnu, the seraph was a giant of a man, with shoulders so broad that they nearly scraped against the edges of the arch that opened into the garden. The Djinn approached them cautiously, taking a seat near the fountain and flipping a coin into the waters before he spoke.

“They say if you cast a prayer into the fountain, the goddess will send you a reply.” He fixed one eye on Jasper. “Has the goddess sent you any letters recently, my lord?”

Jasper hesitated a moment, suddenly wishing Abnu had given him more thorough instructions but decided to hand the letter over, hoping that wasn't misunderstanding the man's cryptic statement. A gleam of recognition appeared in the Djinn’s eyes when he saw the letter, but he didn't immediately reply to Jasper. Instead, the Seraph pulled a small vial from his bag and, uncorking the lid, blew a thin layer of powder from it across the letter. Putting the vial away, he channeled a tiny bit of essence into the paper. It reacted immediately, as a glowing sigil shaped like a jagged claw manifested on the page. Satisfied, the seraph handed the letter back to Jasper.