Chapter 157: [157] Dead Zone
The Temple of the Eternal Flame maintained its sacred rhythms even in the deepest hours of night. Steam hissed through volcanic vents, crystals hummed their eternal songs, and robed figures padded through corridors on bare feet, tending to duties that never ceased. Brother Aldwin had walked these halls for three years, carrying his cleaning supplies and polishing cloths, invisible to scholars and acolytes who saw only another servant maintaining their pristine sanctuary.
Tonight, however, Brother Aldwin carried something far more valuable than soap and rags.
"The healing chambers need fresh linens," Naomi told the young acolyte stationed outside Ashley’s room, her voice pitched to the exact tone of authority she’d perfected during her time as Nessa. She’d traded her temple robes for servant’s clothing—brown wool that made her blend into the shadows between crystal sconces. "Sister Miren specifically requested the Vaelthorne silk. Something about the patient’s delicate condition."
The acolyte, barely sixteen and clearly overwhelmed by night duties, accepted the lie without question. "The storage rooms are on the third level. I can’t leave my post."
"I’ll handle it. You look exhausted." Naomi pressed three silver coins into his palm—a fortune for a junior acolyte. "Take a moment to rest your eyes. The healing chambers will be quiet for at least an hour."
The boy pocketed the coins with barely concealed eagerness, his fingers closing around them like they might disappear if he didn’t secure them quickly. He wandered toward the main corridor, stifling a yawn behind his hand. Naomi counted thirty heartbeats, each one feeling longer than the last, before slipping inside Ashley’s chamber with the silent precision of someone accustomed to entering places uninvited.
The room enveloped her in the sharp scent of wintermint layered over something metallic and disturbingly familiar—blood, but with an unnatural sweetness that made her stomach clench. Ashley lay propped against a mountain of silk pillows, her face pale as moonlight but her eyes alert and watchful. Golden fractures traced delicate patterns along her jawline, pulsing with each heartbeat like veins of liquid sunlight trapped beneath her skin.
"You look terrible," Ashley said, her voice stronger than her appearance suggested.
"Liar. I always look amazing." Naomi closed the door with barely a whisper of sound, her fingers lingering on the latch to ensure it caught properly. "Margaret should be here any moment."
"Margot," Ashley corrected, her tone sharpening despite her weakened state. "We need to be careful about names. Even when we’re alone."