How Big is Your Temple?

CHAPTER FIVE

The next morning, Divine and Saph headed on foot to the Holy District. Despite Divine wanting to get in and out as fast as possible, one did not disrespect the Holy District. A gallop on horseback was out of the question. As were axes. Saph had left her weapon on the tavern wall. Besides, rousing the agents of the Goddess of Condemnation to arrest them for lawbreaking was not the best way to keep Madeline unaware of Divine’s presence.

“You’re cute,” Saph had said with a wink as they departed the tavern, “but not I’d-break-you-out-of-jail-cute. Besides, we can talk along the way.”

With some hesitation on Divine’s part, the conversation remained on local buildings and the weather, but she owed the green-eyed woman something more for helping her retrieve the source of her magic than participation on a random quest. One she didn’t even know if she could contribute to. Divine’s magic was a huge part of the latter half of her life, and the talisman had…sentimental value as well.

“I know I’m not well versed on the pantheon, but let me take the lead on this,” Saph said as they walked. At the edge of the visible street, light shined through thinning fog, like a breath from a harvester wulf’s howl. Droplets clung to leaves and stems hanging a cold wetness against the skin. “I know the hearts of lonely servants. I can get us what we seek.”

“Head for the biggest temple. That’s the Goddess of Souls.”

“That part I’ve gathered. Why did they, whoever they are, have to divide the magic up by Goddesses and Gods? Would it have been too much to have everyone with all the magic? Seems unnecessarily complex.”

“They say the division of Gods and Goddesses allows for balance of power and keeps any one deity or one following from growing so powerful as to subvert the general population.”

“But the Goddess of Souls has the biggest tower.”

“Yes.”

“And the Goddess of Condemnation is our law enforcement.”

“I’m starting to second guess some of our axioms myself.”

Divine’s thoughts turned to the servant of the God of Virtue and reconciling her truths against his.

“How’d you track Madeline to Iramont?” Saph asked as they turned onto the cobbled street.

Before them, the violet archway in triplicate, one after another, stretched as tall as the trees and extended wider than the street. The stones were decorated with extravagant imagery and augmentations nearing art by the deities’ servants, as was customary. But each city’s gate was different. Here on Iramont’s, a waterfall fell from the highest corner of the third arch and ended before it could splash against the ground; painted birds and flutterwings moved against the stone on the second arch; actual snow fell and piled on vines that climbed the wall’s edge, while on the first arch a mechanical mermaid flicked her metal tail as the gears rotated in her torso.

The two women stepped into the hollow of the archways and crossed the threshold into the Holy District.

“It wasn’t hard. Every wagon, carriage, and horse are tracked leaving from or entering the city. Arosia gets a lot of traffic and trade, being nearly the center of the known map, and it makes it easier to find criminals and other undesirables with a meticulous log. I knew she’d leave as soon as possible, so I waited a day after her theft to make sure she didn’t suspect I was tracking her. I followed her for months. Never closer than a day behind her, though not for lack of trying. The smaller towns don’t keep great logs, so at any crossroad it was a guess which way she had gone. Maybe I was lucky, but I guessed right.”

Saph nodded politely. “I think we make our own luck. We see patterns in moonbeams and we take a leap toward the most favorable. Sometimes we land on pillows.”

A servant of Virtue, stood outside his temple gate shaking dust out of rugs. He didn’t look up. Besides dressing mundanely, the servants were also known to be reclusive. Except for that Goodly One Divine talked to the day before. She tried not to think about the prospect of more stolen talismans and what that could mean for other temples, but her mind kept wandering there.

“How did you know she’d flee the city entirely? I think I’d disguise myself and disappear right under your nose.”

“With an eyepatch?” Divine blurted, immediately cursing her lack of deliberate tact.

Saph tilted her head. “There are ways to blend in. What, don’t think I could pass as a harlot for hire?”

“No! I mean, yes. I mean, you’re very nice to look at, should someone, but they shouldn’t—”

“Aww, flustered already and the sun isn’t over the buildings. Don’t worry, darling, I don’t sleep with everyone who looks my way. Just the ones I want to look back at.”

Saph’s eye traced Divine from her red hair slowly down her body, but the former magic-wielder averted her gaze by looking at the temple gates. The sun might not be fully up, but Divine felt hot, nonetheless.

“You didn’t answer my question, though. Your deflection as defense may mislead others, but I listen to people every day, remember.” Her voice then took on a more soothing tone. “Tell me what happened, hm?”

Divine lowered her head. She had been dreading the moment this came. The bar owner had been empathetic enough so far to not poke into Divine’s past, but curiosity was a decacacti thorn in someone’s walking shoe. Embarrassing as it was, it couldn’t hurt to tell Saph. She’d hoped the woman wouldn’t think her unworthy of “looking back at” after knowing the story. Divine liked Saph’s gaze, even if it made her stomach dance and her hands tremble.

Divine took a deep breath, pausing to look at the temple buildings around them. “They try to gloss over this with the general worshippers, since conflict with another temple isn’t exactly a selling feature, but the Goddess of Condemnation is more of an enemy than just a rival for followers of the Goddess of Souls.”

“She always sounds like the life of the party,” Saph muttered.

“Usually, the banging of heads is reserved for those pledged as servants. What the worshippers are told is that the conflict is more…theological in nature.”

“Naturally.”

“That balance I told you about—between the care of souls versus their punishment. But the deeper lore you get as a confirmed servant says that, long ago, the Goddess of Condemnation had been watching a terrible soul, craving the day he died as she would exact her punishment for his sins in life. But the Goddess of Souls swept in to protect him before the Goddess of Condemnation could chain him to eternal suffering. A deific battle ensued, and the Goddess of Souls won.”

“Such secrecy for two birds squabbling over a piece of bread.”

“The Goddess of Condemnation never forgot, and never forgave. There resulted this constant struggle to save the souls from the punishment the Goddess of Condemnation promises for those she deems evil. Her priests”—here Divine hmphed—“if you can call them that—their order calls them agents —they actively work to undermine the effort of the Soulshapers.”

“Soulshapers?”

“Sorry.” Divine grimaced, remembering that Saph didn’t know much about the pantheon. “The ones who have the strength to guide a soul while it is in a living body, and after death. Swords of the Goddess some call them. They guide the Soulshields—what I was—and bolster our power to accomplish greater magic than we could do alone. Say I needed to mend a punctured stomach as well as several broken bones, and the emotions that come with it. Two Soulshields can do the mending and the emotional balancing if they have a Soulshaper for that task.” Thankfully the Soulshields used their larger wells to amplify the healing in these cases and only in the direst circumstances did they cut the thread of life to transition the sufferer to the life beyond.

The temples around them grew bigger; classic hierarchy of the faiths, with the ones that organized the biggest following of believers boasting the larger sanctuaries. Invisible hands clenched her lungs. They were near the Goddess of Souls temple and finding her talisman. She could almost smell the scent of rain on rose, the familiar sweet perfume with a hint of lemon, which filled her senses whenever she drew from her magic well.

Divine looked over at her companion to see her waiting for the story to continue.

“The way to my home every day took me past a brothel. One day I saw a woman being pushed roughly up against the side of the building. The man was hurting her, a vice grip on her arm and her face a painting of pain. I knew she wasn’t a willing participant in what was about to happen. So, I used my magic. I shielded her, and myself, from the man. He tried in vain to get at us and eventually left. Her name was Madeline. She cried her thanks into my shoulder, and I offered to heal her bruises. She asked me to take her to my home as she didn’t feel safe at the brothel anymore. I knew I could protect her if the man returned.”

“And she stole your talisman as thanks,” Saph guessed as she stopped walking.

The temple of the Goddess of Souls loomed ahead; its golden gates open to a garden fully in bloom. Like souls, always growing, so the garden was tended by the servants of her name. Beyond the flowers lay the black door into the shrine, the sword of the Goddess painted in gold down the length of the center over a crescent moon.

“It would have been better if she had that day,” Divine said softly. “It took months. Magic wielders don’t shout what their talisman is for good reason. And we have multiple diversions.” She raised her wrist, jingling four rainbow-hued bangles loose from her coat sleeve and in turn pointing out a mermaid belt buckle, three gemstone rings, rose-shaped stud earrings, a labradorite feather hair clip, and a dozen charms on her boot laces. “At least I made her work for it. We developed a…relationship. She stopped working at the brothel. The Goddess of Souls takes care of her own, so I could support us both. I thought we had something.”

Divine shook her head and gazed at the sun peaking over the temple’s towers, as if that offered a better explanation for the tears forming in the corners of her eyes. A hand rested gently on her shoulder, and she took strength from the gesture.

“One night when we…we were in bed, she tried to take off my Goddess pendant. I never took it off. I never took off my diversions. Every worshipper gets a pendant so it shouldn’t have seemed special. But that night she wanted…unhindered access to my neck. I stopped her hands and she looked at me with such curiosity that I told her. Inside the locket was my talisman. The real talisman. Worshipper pendants aren’t lockets, but mine is. Inside, it held rose petals from my mother’s garden. My mother has been dead for ten years.” Divine swallowed. “I woke the next morning with the locket gone and on her pillow a pin of the Goddess of Condemnation.” A hooweet wrapped in thorns, its long nose pointing like an arrow as if to say, “ Go that way. It is too late for me .”

“Did you at least show her a good time?”

Divine flinched and stopped. “Did I what ?”

“Well, if you’re good in bed, she’ll have to lie to her agent buddies because if she admitted she enjoyed it, they’d think she did have feelings for you. She’ll have to lie, and her own Goddess will frown on her sinful nature .” Saph’s voice held an ounce of sarcasm as she deepened her tone for the final delivery.

Turning her shoulder, Divine walked through the garden’s opened gates.

“I don’t know that the Goddess of Condemnation cares about the behaviors of her own servants. Just everyone else.” She rubbed her neck before remembering the reason for her story. “There’s no temple for her Goddess in Arosia. Same as there’s no temple for mine in Pariatan,” Divine explained, an image of the southern coast of Trelvania just before its peninsula tail coming to mind. There were rumors of a pirate cove and mermaids there. “Some long-lost reason determined that one city each would be missing the other Goddess’s shrine. We aren’t welcome where our temples are missing. And when I told my high priest, Arosia’s First Servant of Souls, what had happened to my talisman, they thought I knew what Madeline was all along and harbored her. They cast me out of their service. That’s when I decided to chase Madeline and take back what is mine.”

“A bit harsh for one mistake.”

Heat rose to Divine’s cheeks. “It wasn’t the first time I…failed to completely follow the rules.”

Saph dipped her shoulder and bumped into Divine. “I knew you were a feisty one when I saw you.”

“I’m not, really. I just…it was shortly after I had created my talisman. I was young and this plant in the temple entryway was not responding. I’d practically memorized their books on flora. It was wilting and wouldn’t bear any flowers. Fertilizers failed and then I…I just healed it. Bright pink flowers opened the next day. The First Servant of Souls asked about the plant, but then said that they had put fertilizer on it from Solhavn, as if that was supposed to convince me Soulshields couldn’t heal plants too. They told me to stick to approved composts.”

“I bet the Goddess of Fields would like a word with your First Servant.”

Divine laughed, the heaviness of the approaching temple door lifting briefly. “There’d only be bountiful harvests if the Goddesses combined their powers.”

“Endless bags of honeyed nuts.” Saph paused, tapping a lavender bloom that swayed on its long stem. “I haven’t always operated within the strictest interpretation of the rules myself.”

“Oh really?”

“Oh no you don’t. You don’t get a new nugget of information from me until you finish your story.”

With the reminder of why they were walking the stone path of the garden, Divine’s smile faded. “After my mother died, I got really focused on healing. By the time I was granted the title of Soulshield, about three years after shadowing others—so maybe eighteen—I was making myself available any hour. My magic was always running dry, and I was so tired all the time, healing even the smallest of cuts.”

Divine paused, expecting Saph to have a question but the woman simply held her gaze, as if Divine was the most interesting thing in the garden.

“I overheard a request get turned down by a Soulsage who took them after worship hours. And I followed the beseecher. There was a young Kellas who’d gotten a fishhook caught in their muzzle. I soothed their emotions, withdrew the hook, and healed the hole. And promptly passed out. I’d been too weak from other healing that day and they had to send for help.” Divine sighed. “The First Servant of Souls was livid. We are to save our magic for ‘those that matter.’ I was told I’d be watched closely by the temple. Kellas are unaligned with any of the pantheon and therefore receive no blessings. I’ve followed their guidelines since…mostly. But now they think I’ve aided an enemy.”

“That’s what you meant when you said you weren’t on good terms.”

Divine focused on a flutterwing on an orange blossom but nodded. She felt her shame rise with the fultterwing’s opening and closing wings. She tried to push it away.

“Does no one ever leave a deity? I’m pretty sure Syka was really into the one with passion—” Saph waved her hand around at the other buildings as if the temple would stop her on the right one.

“The Deity of Love and Fire. Yeah, they are one that gets a lot of fluctuation in worship membership.” Divine pointed back near the district’s arches. She pictured the short Syka with dark-painted eyelids, who had argued with the Iguion during the game of Crossroads George.

“And now she’s all in with the God of Storms.”

Divine tilted her head knowingly. “Post-breakup?”

“Aren’t you as discerning as you accuse me of being. Anyway, as far as I know, the temples didn’t punish her for switching.”

“It’s not the same when you’ve become a servant. Not when you’ve gone through the whole talisman process. You’re locked in. Even if you could get the temple to cleanse the talisman and sever the connection, after the age of confirmation the well will dry up quickly before you can create a new talisman. It’s just not done.”

Yet, the Goodly One had said that there were some who could use another person’s talisman. If she got accepted back into her temple, she had several questions for Arosia’s First Servant of Souls.

“And you can’t relocate your well from one deity to another?”

“I’ve never heard of it. The servants tend to look down on someone who’s abandoned their Goddess. What’s to keep you from leaving them, too? You’re basically an outcast of the pantheon at that point.”

“I don’t see why she should care about a switch here and there. There’s plenty of worshipers.”

Divine paused. Normally she would have shrugged and said it was just the way things worked. But after the conversation with the Goodly One…“They’d want to keep the power. A deity gets power from the magic wells aligned to them.”

“That can’t be right. Even I would know that if it was common knowledge. Everyone says the deities’ powers are augmented by the number of people offering their prayers.”

“I just learned that might be half of it. From a rather chatty servant from the God of Virtue. He’s the one in the Merchant District near the fountain.”

“Ah, the artisan section. Don’t know that I’ve seen one there, but I don’t usually pay attention to any of them. If we don’t find it, could you remake your talisman?”

Divine shook her head. “The Goddess only blesses you once. I just…I want to get my talisman back and show the temple I still want to be a part of the greater good. I don’t want to be templeless.” Divine fought to keep her eyes from betraying her. For months she had been alone. Even before that, since her mother’s passing, she’d had various friendships and eventually romantic relationships, but they were short lived. Having a temple felt like she was among others like herself and she was never truly alone. To not have a temple…

Saph’s hand rested at the small of Divine’s back, Divine’s knee-length coat shifting with the touch, and Divine took a slow inhale as Saph’s lips brushed her rose earring in a whisper.

“Then let’s go get your talisman.”

Divine’s eyes turned to the ebony door; its golden sword raised from the rest of the wood. Saph grasped the vertical blade and heaved.

A figure burst out of the entry and bumped into Divine.

Divine caught herself in a bush as the figure mumbled apologies, tightening their dark cloak around them with thin, clawed fingers.

“It’s all right,” Divine said, peering into the hood to see bright pink muted in shadow. She recognized the voice. “You were with Viktor, weren’t you? I’m sorry, I didn’t catch your name the other night. Liz, was it? I’m Divine.”

“It is all right. I am Listhinci.” The Iguion glanced over their shoulder.

“You look like you are in a hurry. I won’t keep you.”

Listhinci sighed. “I asked the priests for healing but they…”

Divine nodded, pressing her lips together. “It’s a ridiculous stance.” Then glancing at Saph she added, “Just because they can’t access magic wells, that shouldn’t mean the deities don’t grant blessing to them. After I healed that Kellas…the Soulshapers wouldn’t even let me near any visiting human-adjacent when one came into the temple requesting a Soulshield.”

Listhinci took a step forward. “You are a healer?”

The hope in their voice pressed like a dagger to Divine’s throat. For a breath, she couldn’t speak.

Listhinci continued, “It is my hand,” and held out their left claws: blackened instead of the usual pink scales.

“What happened?” Saph asked. “You didn’t have this at the table.”

“Would take too long to explain. Can you help?”

Divine’s chest clenched. “I would try, if I could. I…lost my talisman.” She surveyed the garden and noted the door remained shut. She leaned closer and whispered, “Can you wait here? I’m going to retrieve it. I hope it is in there. And I would try to heal you, I promise.”

Listhinci looked around again. “I have been here too long already. I cannot risk being caught. I have a child.”

Listhinci’s role was life-giver. “Caught?” Divine looked from Listhinci to Saph and back.

“Iguion are not allowed within the district any longer,” Listhinci said, bowing their head.

“But the Goddess of Souls lets everyone enter her walls,” Divine protested. They might not bestow their gifts on human-adjacents, but the servants typically weren’t opposed to supervised worship.

“A new city law this year,” Saph added, “if I recall.”

Divine clenched her teeth. If the agents of the Goddess of Condemnation found a human-adjacent in the district, they would surely jail them for breaking the law, if not worse. Divine silently cursed Madeline and her sect’s role as law enforcers for the thousandth time. Gentle was not in their vocabulary. Beyond mind muddling, the agents wielded an assortment of pain-inducing mental abilities.

While Arosia possessed the Holicratic Ruling Council, the highest court in the collective provinces of the hagiocracy, each city-state was free to create its own laws which carried throughout their province. It would take a majority appealing at Arosia for a decree to overrule the city-state’s sovereignty. Which was an idea that could not help Listhinci at this moment.

Before Divine could say anything more, Listhinci stepped past.

The haste not unlike when Divine’s mother, coughing in the rain, had kissed her cheek and left her at the temple to live. Divine had watched her scurry between raindrops, wishing she was old enough to access a magic well and heal her.

Now, Divine watched Listhinci hurry down the Holy District’s avenue, feeling like a shadow of her magic tied itself to Listhinci’s footfalls in the faintest tug of entreaty.

* * *

“Thank you so much for showing us around. I do so love all of the different temples. Why, this is the best Souls’ temple I have seen yet!” Saph beamed at the Second Level Soulsage, the western Trelvania accent she was applying making her words more drawn out. She’d used it through the whole tour. “How big is your temple?”

The pendant and religious texts keeper mumbled a reply as he struggled to process the praise. Requests for soul-saving and healing would be normal, but it wasn’t often that someone paid their order compliments on its architecture. And knowing Saph’s phrasing, her question had a double meaning.

Divine hung back, thumbs in her belt loops pushing her coat wide, watching Saph work her charm. Next to her she noticed a familiar teal book traced with purple and gold foil. When Saph looked her way, Divine angled her head at the book and mouthed, “Bestiary”. To add effect, she opened her arms wide to mimic a boradain, though she only had two limbs .

Rolling her eye, Saph gently placed a hand at the middle-aged man’s elbow, just below the yellow band of his Second Level adornment. “You know, I’ve heard that, for the right price, a pendant can be purchased even by a non-believer. Now, I believe in all of the Goddesses,” she leaned in to whisper conspiratorially, “and even some of the Gods,” then she said as she pulled back, “but I don’t worship one above the other. Do you think I could buy a pendant of the Goddess of Souls? I would so love to add it to my collection.”

“The Goddess appreciates your affiliation.” The Second Level Soulsage recoiled slightly. “But the pendants aren’t for sale. They are only given as part of the devotion ceremony.”

Saph tilted her head back and laughed. “Oh, naturally, naturally. You can’t fault a girl for trying. I’ve only ever seen one from a distance, you know, but they are my favorite design of them all.”

“Well”—the Soulsage glanced behind Saph and only seeing Divine, shrugged—“we do have a few pendants in the side chapel. We’re expecting three devotions on Sabbatday and have just had new ones forged.”

Three new souls who chose the Goddess of Souls as their primary deity. Three more life energies in worship to the Goddess, elevating her status higher and granting all of her followers supposedly stronger benefits. It was a contradiction, as Divine’s well never seemed fuller, no matter how many people confirmed their devotion, nor did the minor protection the pendants offered seem to grow in strength. If something as universally accepted as how pendants and talismans worked was actually as the Goodly One said, what else was half-truths?

“Do you ever reuse ones?” Saph asked.

Her voice sounded so sincere that for a moment, she seemed genuinely interested.

“We do, but they must be cleansed first. We actually got one in yesterday. The pendant has been modified, though.”

Divine rooted her feet before her eagerness betrayed them. Modified. It had to be her talisman. Her fingers twitched.

“I’m not sure that we can reuse it,” the man continued. “Poor woman. Her husband passed away last week. Fell into a lake nearby and couldn’t swim.”

Divine clenched her hands. Husband. Dead. More Madeline lies. But if the Soulsage had known the locket was a talisman, he would have cleansed it right away. For that, Divine grudgingly was thankful that Madeline had not shared the truth.

Saph shook her black locks and flicked her eye Divine’s way, as if to say, Don’t do anything stupid. To the reciter of religious texts, she said, “How tragic. And the pendants are similar to the other temples?”

“Better. Every pendant is blessed by the Goddess and grants Her followers protection. Fewer chances to get sick, better luck, those sorts of things. But only those who have gone through devotion. Are you sure I cannot convince you to pledge your devotion?”

“Oh, Gods above, you sure do make those pendants sound enchanting.”

“Would you like to see them?”

Saph clapped her hands together. “I would like nothing more.”

The Soulsage led them a short way back into the central chantry then down a hallway to the aforementioned side chapel. Divine took a deep breath through her nose. If the pendant was untouched by cleansing magic, recreating the connection to her magic well would be like tying knots at the severed section of rope that allowed her to pull magic into the world. As difficult as it was to bind her magic and talisman the first time, she didn’t want to think about the daunting task of doing it with fraying rope. She could only hope that the five-month separation had not degraded her connection beyond repair.

A click resounded in the otherwise quiet room as the Soulsage unlocked a desk drawer and pulled out a tray lined with black velvet. On top rested three pendants, their carvings treated with black polish—the waxing crescent moon pierced on the tips with a vertical three-dimensional sword. The fourth one, however, was slightly thicker.

The scent of rose reached Divine before the pendants came into view. It took everything within her to not leap across the desk and take what was hers. There was no mistaking it. The power electrified the blood in her veins. She inched closer, eyes fixed on the locket.

“Now, you can’t touch them, but you can look.” The Soulsage set the tray on the desk with a half-grin.

Grasping her hair to keep it out of the way, Saph leaned forward to get a closer look. “The filigree work in the moon is exquisite. And the sword—it looks real enough to cut me. Oh, these are beautiful.”

The man beamed and reached for the tray when Saph’s hand shot out to grasp his wrist.

“Since we are alone here I…I was hoping you could help me.”

The servant’s brow raised. “What is it, my dear?”

“You see,” Saph started, gently tugging him to move around the desk and come closer, “I have this spot on my breast.” Dropping his hand, she unlaced the top of her bodice. “And since the servants of the Souls Goddess heals…”

Divine knew what she should be doing but she froze, watching Saph’s breasts slowly reveal as the fabric fell away. The man mumbled something about not being qualified, which was half true. While First Level Soulsages functioned basically as clerks with little magic, a Second Level healed minor wounds. But they stayed in the temple and did not venture beyond the soft chairs as a Soulshield; they either didn’t want to or lacked the confidence to deliver under pressure and at a moment’s notice. One typically scheduled an appointment with a Second Level, which likely accounted for this one wringing his hands.

Divine caught her counterpart’s quick head jerk in the direction of the tray. With effort, Divine pulled her attention to the protective pendants and slowly drew closer.

She wasn’t supposed to be in a temple of her Goddess until she appealed to the Arosian Order of the Goddess of Souls for readmittance as a Soulshield. The biggest temple got the final say. If she drew attention, the Soulsage would ask questions, and Divine knew from memories of her mother’s tilted head, that any attempt at fibbing was painted on her face. Masquerading as Saph’s employee under the heat of interrogation was out of the question. She needed her magic. No Soulsage was going to take that away.

Divine rubbed her nose then swiped her locket.

Lightning-like shock coursed through her body. She swayed and almost knocked the tray down. The room filled with the sweet aroma of rose blooms. So intoxicating was the return of her magic that Divine had to take several steady breaths to fight back laughter, eventually dropping the necklace into a coat pocket at her thigh.

By this time, the Soulsage nearly had his head in Saph’s bosom in examination. Divine took a step forward, brows knitted, but the other woman nodded toward the door. Quietly Divine made her way out. She heard Saph’s voice as she approached the main chapel.

“But it was there this morning! Do you think it’s deadly? I don’t want to die.” And then, “Well, if you say so. It’s certainly a relief. I thank you for your time. It’s been a pleasure.”

Divine was halfway to the door when Saph caught up, still attempting to tie her bodice back into place, and a weak voice called after them.

“Excuse me. Excuse me! I believe you’ve, well, you’ve taken one! Come back at once!”

“Run,” Saph whispered.

The pair took off, crashing through the black door back into the full blazing sun of mid-morning. They raced down the main street of the Holy District until they reached the first alleyway between temples. Divine knew the hooweet and vines symbol over the gate: the Goddess of Condemnation.

“In here,” she said between heavy breaths, “they wouldn’t dare look here.”

They veered into the alleyway and stopped far enough from the street that a passerby wouldn’t notice them. Divine glanced around, finding nothing but a songbird perched high overhead. Breathing heavily, they grinned at each other.

“Well, that was fun. Did you get it?”

In answer, Divine fastened the locket around her neck. Her veins teemed with magic, building as if she could explode with power. Had it always felt this good? Looking at her partner in heist, Divine took in all of Saph; her cheeks lightly flushed, her mouth parted, her breasts still somewhat exposed and heaving with breaths. Divine took a step closer.

“Can I kiss you?” Divine breathed.

“I thought you’d never ask.”

In one motion Divine grabbed Saph’s hips, pushing her back against the stone of the temple, and pressed her lips to hers. Saph’s mouth opened in response and Divine tentatively brushed her tongue against her lower lip. She was met with an eager probing of her own. The woman smelled faintly of wood, which barely broke through the cloud of rose and rain that flooded her senses. Divine pushed their bodies closer, so every feasible part was touching and released one hip to slide her hand behind Saph’s head. Saph moaned into her mouth as Divine’s other hand moved underneath her shirt, touching Saph’s back. Divine trembled.

But the woman pulled her lips away. They both breathed heavily while Divine searched Saph’s eye for a hint at what was wrong.

Saph’s voice broke the silence in a whisper, “I think we should head back to my tavern, darling…before we expose ourselves in the Holy District.”

* * *

The finger that traced the space between Divine’s shoulder blades made her quiver. She lay on her right side in Saph’s bed, gazing into the light beams that stretched from the upper window. Her talisman was back. She almost couldn’t believe it.

Saph placed another kiss on her exposed shoulder.

“Will you tell me how it works?” With the question, Saph’s hand slid between Divine’s breasts to touch the pendant.

Divine rolled over, and once again, moving on top of Saph, holding herself up to kiss the woman once more. Pulling away, she grinned down at her and grasped Saph’s hands up by her head, pinning her arms.

“Will you tell me why you wear the patch?”

“Rogue.” Saph nipped at Divine’s lip, missing.

Hungrily answering with another kiss, Divine rolled to lie on her back next to Saph.

The axe-wielder already knew what her talisman was, so explaining how it worked wouldn’t hurt her anymore. It was…personal. But if she wanted this—whatever this was—to go any further, Divine knew she needed to push past her recent betrayal.

“Are you sure you want to know? This is treading into temple territory and might be boring.”

Saph’s hand moved to caress Divine’s stomach. “Not if you’re the one speaking.”

Divine nodded. “When you create a talisman, you are trying to lock your intentions into the talisman—with the Goddess’s will—and connect to a well of power that is uniquely yours. It helps to have an item that reflects your desire or has a positive emotion attached to it. That might have been where I went wrong.”

“How so?” Saph asked.

“I was sent to the temple when I was ten, as my mother’s health had become increasingly poor. She spent some time at the temple as well, hoping to have the healers work their magic. She had a few months here and there that seemed better, but when I was fifteen, she passed away. And it is about that time in life a novice is asked to either confirm or seek out another career. I returned to my childhood home, gathered petals into the locket she had given me for my birthday prior, and made it my talisman. To disguise it, I took my temple-given symbol of my Goddess that everyone wears, and had a Maker of the Goddess of Construction fuse the two parts. But I think the grief of my mother’s death, or the desire to have had the power to heal her, bound itself to the petals and the petals to the pendant. Thus, I have a shallow well.”

Saph was silent for a moment then said softly, “It takes great strength to see the pains of the world and heal them, rather than do the easy thing and turn away.”

Divine shrugged and sat up. “I should clean up and prepare for tomorrow. You still want to leave for the place on the maps in the morning?”

The woman sighed behind her. “Yes. Washroom is down the hall on the left. But do put some clothes on first. Don’t want to shock poor Sylus. I need him to work the tavern while I’m gone.”

Tugging on her knee-length coat that had been tossed on the floor in haste, Divine nodded and slipped into the hallway, clutching the opening together. Even if she’d been fully clothed, she would have still felt naked—her soul bare for even mortals to see.