Inessa sensed it when she walked into the Cathedral for Sabbath Worship. She was turning heads again. Despite one of the walls being torn down from the Cathedral, people stared at her. She walked with Adosina, linking arms with her because she was terrified. After the reaction between Martin and Sara, the other High Elders wouldn’t be pleased.
The whispers began, and she left a trail of heads turning her direction.
“Api saw nothing wrong with it,” Adosina said quietly which meant she, too, noticed what Inessa saw. “Therefore no one else will, too.”
“But the other High Elders?” Inessa asked.
“Tima followed the rules. Trust her.”
Inessa nodded as she settled herself into the pew. The whispers grew in volume, but she sat meekly, waiting for the sermon to begin.
Once the High Elders came out, all of them but Martin stared her down. She simply did not react. She learned how to do that. Adosina gripped her hand, smiling.
“There’s nothing wrong,” she whispered again.
It didn’t matter if they found nothing wrong. The High Elders would see this as some form of rebellion, and she knew too well they didn’t like rebellion in any form.
Once the sermon and the meditation were done, they went to the social. When Inessa got out of the carriage, her heart raced. She should expect some sort of public backlash for this. Adosina promised to stay close. They whispered quietly amongst themselves, but Inessa was terrified when she saw Dalius, Navir, and Fadrique by the door, waiting for her.
“May God bless you on this Sabbath day,” Inessa said, giving a curtsey.
Navir grabbed her elbow and pulled her into the ballroom. Inessa held in a gasp as she was pulled deeper into the room. “What exactly do you think you’re wearing?”
“It’s my new Sabbath outfit,” Inessa said, doing everything in her power to keep her voice steady.
“You think because you are with Martin now that you can relax the rules?” Fadrique asked.
“I didn’t. The dressmaker I went to followed the rules. Her name is Tima, she owns a shop here in the city,” Inessa said, again keeping her voice steady, her arms in front of her, her eyes cast downward.
“Navir,” Martin said, appearing by Inessa’s side. “Let her go.”
Navir didn’t. “You cannot relax the rules of the concubine dress, Martin.”
“I haven’t. Look at it, gentlemen. You will see it adheres strictly to the rules.” Martin took Inessa’s arm and eased it out of Navir’s grasp, moving her closer to him.
“It is to be strictly modest,” Fadrique said.
“And it is,” Martin said.
Inessa, despite the terror rising, despite her heart ready to beat through her chest, took a quiet step forward, knowing exactly how to end all of this.
“Look for yourself, good sirs. It breaks none of God’s holy rules,” Inessa said. She opened her arms, letting them see the dress completely before giving a very slow turn. She hadn’t noticed how large a group had gathered until she noticed all the nobility watching them, surrounding them in a circle. Her concubine sisters especially watched with great interest.
Inessa faced the three High Elders again, their gaze heavy on her, all of them giving her the look Martin never did, in front of the nobility. She kept her arms extended, letting them continue to look. If they studied her face for longer than a moment, they would have seen the soft glare she gave them, but they weren’t looking at her face. They rarely did.
“What rules does this dress break?” Inessa asked.
The High Elders said nothing, still looking and studying, still using the opportunity to see what it was they had given up.
“The dress is acceptable,” Navir finally said before turning away and heading toward the refreshment table. Dalius lingered for a moment before following. It was only Fadrique who remained, still staring before Martin moved Inessa’s arm down and brought her closer to him again, waking Fadrique up from whatever fantasy he was having. Fadrique glared at Martin before he turned to leave.
Martin watched them go while still holding her arm. Once he was out of sight he turned to Inessa. “Are you alright?”
“Yes, sir,” Inessa said. Martin gave her a look and she realized her mistake. “Yes, Martin.”
“Good. Now, I think some of your concubine friends have questions for you.” The nobility all returned to their socializing. It was just the concubines who remained.
Inessa smiled, feeling the tiniest bit of relief. Tima had the High Elder’s approval.
***
Indenuel never tried to swim through mud before, but he got a sense of it as he came to. It was difficult to breathe, and it took far too much will power to open his eyes. He heard someone call his name, but the mud pulled him back under.
Someone squeezed his hand, he heard voices this time, ones he recognized. Familiar warmth flooded his veins. The mud cleared away, and clarity returned. He remembered demons everywhere. Demons stealing his soul. The promise the devil made that he would destroy the city.
Indenuel sat straight up before he remembered he needed to breathe.
“It’s alright. You’re alright,” Martin said.
“Tolomon? Nathaniel? Is the city alright? Is everyone alright?” Indenuel asked way to quickly, on the verge of passing out again.
“I assure you, my boy, everyone is just fine. Don’t overexert yourself or you’ll pass out again,” Martin said as multiple hands eased him back down. Once again, the warmth of the healing power went through his system.
Indenuel smelled the incense. A smokey haze was in his room and turned to see at least ten used sticks in the incense bowl.
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“How long was I asleep?” Indenuel asked.
“About four days,” Martin said.
Indenuel blinked as servants began pushing back more curtains and light filled his room. He tried to move, but the energy that helped him jolt straight up before was gone, leaving his limbs stiff.
Indenuel closed his eyes again, Martin filling him with rejuvenating healing power. It was so quiet. There were no demons, no shrieking, all was calm. The city was alright. And Tolomon…
Indenuel cracked an eye open to see Tolomon standing beside the bed, watching him closely. His bodyguard gave a small smile as Indenuel’s gaze met his. He returned with his own weak smile.
He had no idea what happened. Not after the demon stabbed his head with those two black blades. But he remembered so much leading up to it. The panic, the terror, his confession which the devil claimed would never work.
Martin dropped his hands and Indenuel stared at the ceiling, not wanting to look at either one of them out of shame. He closed his eyes again, knowing Tolomon had every right to get angry at him. That Nathaniel should scream at him for his stupidity. And Martin should never forgive him. What happened instead was Martin grabbed Indenuel’s arms to help him sit up before hugging him.
“I am so relieved you are alright,” Martin said.
Indenuel began to cry. He covered his mouth as hot tears ran down his cheeks. “I’m sorry.”
Martin simply held him, not letting Indenuel go even if he wanted to. “Do not concern yourself with what happened. Just know everyone is safe and well. The devil did not get out of the Cathedral, and Cristoval and Dalius were able to extract him from you safely.”
Indenuel nodded, still sobbing into Martin’s shoulder. Martin continued to hold him. Indenuel never wanted this to happen. He always considered himself religious. Maybe not as religious as Lucia, but he did try. God’s death shattered him, but this? Somehow, meeting the devil himself, being possessed, it was like all of the stories he was told as a child came crashing down around him. He met the devil. The devil was real. Which meant God was real too.
And God was dead.
“Now, Tolomon has tried his best to feed you these past few days but let me go down and check how lunch is going. The other High Elders should be here soon, and we will get your confession down and work through it with you. Alright?” Martin asked.
Indenuel nodded. He was in no position to argue anymore. He should have confessed when Tolomon told him too. Indenuel had his feet on the side of the bed when Martin left. He tried getting up, his legs wobbling. Tolomon was at his side.
“You shouldn’t be doing that already. You’ve been out for four days.” Indenuel wobbled again and Tolomon grabbed him, helping him find his balance. “Wait until you get more solid food in your system.”
“You’re right,” Indenuel mumbled, letting Tolomon ease him back to sitting on the bed. “I should listen to you more.”
Tolomon laughed. It almost sounded jolly. “Good. I’m glad this experience taught you something.”
Indenuel smiled before it dropped. “I’m sorry, Tolomon. For everything. I should have listened to you. I never should have gotten angry, and I-”
“I’ve already forgiven you,” Tolomon said.
Indenuel let out a breath. “Why? I was so cruel to you. The demons told me to kill you. You should not forgive me this easily.”
Tolomon shrugged. “Let’s just say being possessed by the devil himself is plenty punishment enough. I don’t have the creative capacity to think of something worse. And it’s clear you feel awful about it.”
Indenuel nodded. “That I feel awful or look awful?”
“Both, honestly,” Tolomon said as Martin walked in with a tray of food that smelled delicious. Indenuel ate as Martin healed his muscles, pulling quickly from the nutrients from the food in his stomach.
“What’s going to happen with my confession?” Indenuel asked. Now that he was stronger, he was getting far more worried about it.
“Dalius will write down everything you say, and we will ask our questions. Since you already admitted to using corruptive means to take the lives of two individuals, you will be stripped of privacy and Navir will investigate your memories to make sure you are not lying,” Martin said quietly.
Indenuel winced, feeling his throat start to close. “Will I be thrown in the dungeon?”
“If Dalius cannot get your mark removed, then yes. But Dalius is powerful, and something tells me he will. Once the mark is gone, we will take turns assessing the damage this has caused your God-given gifts,” Martin said.
Indenuel tried to relax. He glanced down his shirt to see the pale pink mark before fixing it again. “If I had confessed the day it happened, the devil never would have possessed me, would he.”
“Perhaps not,” Martin said. “We hadn’t planned on the devil taking such interest in you, but this has been a warning to us all. You are the Warrior, and therefore very much the interest of the devil. You must keep your soul protected. This must never happen again.”
Indenuel nodded as Martin left to give him privacy. He dressed himself, still not prepared for his staff to see his mark. He was a lot stronger, but he was sure he still looked like death.
The other High Elders waited for him in his study. Tolomon helped him go down the stairs before waiting by the door. He walked through the door, and Martin pulled a chair out for him, telling him to sit. He must have really looked that bad if even Fadrique gave a tiny wince in sympathy.
“Shall we begin with a prayer?” Navir asked.
Indenuel nodded, listening to Navir’s prayer, requesting God to grant them guidance and mercy. A God who was dead. Once it was done, Dalius, who was sitting at Indenuel’s desk opened the book and dipped his quill in the ink.
“Tell us what happened that caused you to mark yourself,” Navir said, sitting back in his own chair, his fingers steepled as he prepared to listen.
Indenuel looked at each of their faces in turn. Looked at the men who he believed were conniving individuals willing to do anything to keep their power. His eyes lingered on Fadrique, the thought of confessing in front of him made him ill. At least, that was before the devil possessed him and threatened to kill everyone he loved.
“I never wanted to give up the children,” he began. He told them as best he could. Gave them an overview of his relationship with Andres and Lola before explaining how he discovered Matteo had been beaten and the anger had been too much. He told the story, explained how he must have used all the corruptive powers, some on purpose, some accidentally. He stared at his hands the entire time as he talked. He finished his story, emphasizing that he felt no remorse for what he did and mentioning how he deliberately pushed Andres into hell before he resolved to try and clear the mark himself.
Indenuel finished, and there was silence among the High Elders as Dalius finished writing what he said. Dalius finished and nodded at Navir who had a deeply troubled look on his face. “You have told us everything?”
“To the best of my remembrance, sir,” Indenuel said.
Navir nodded, then glanced out one of the windows. “Come, we will do this with just a branch.”
Indenuel stood on trembling legs as he followed Navir to the window. He opened it and took a branch, bringing it closer into the study.
“Are you aware of the rules for having your privacy revoked?” Navir asked.
Indenuel nodded, his mouth too dry to speak. Navir was only allowed to see the memories that dealt with the murder. Anything else, and Navir would sacrifice whatever evidence he found from this. Navir took Indenuel’s hand, placing it on the branch and covering the other side with his own before closing his eyes.
Navir dove into Indenuel’s memories with a skill he should not have been surprised at. He relived the memories, seeing Matteo’s back, feeling the anger surge again. He watched as he used the corruption to find them, to hide himself, and finally to kill them. More importantly, Navir felt as Indenuel did not care as he turned and left the bodies to be discovered. Indenuel’s knees trembled as Navir felt the anxiety and guilt not from the murders, but from the fear of getting caught.
The tree reacted negatively to this. It was deeply uncomfortable that Navir was breaking Indenuel’s privacy this way. Despite how much Navir assured the tree this was according to law, the tree did not like this violation of Indenuel’s privacy. It reacted worse to witnessing the murders, and Navir filled the tree with goodness before letting it go.
“Indenuel.” The respect Navir might have once had for Indenuel was no longer there. “If you will excuse us, before we assess the corruption inside you, there are some things I need to discuss with my fellow High Elders in private. Do not leave this house, under threat of arrest.”
Indenuel nodded, not looking at Navir. He managed to walk across the study without stumbling and eased the door open, grateful that no one could see him reaching out to Tolomon, who took his hand and helped him out of the study.
Tolomon closed the door. “How’d it go?”
“I still feel no remorse,” Indenuel whispered. “After all that, after everything I experienced, I am still relieved they are dead.”
Tolomon glanced at the closed door but said nothing.