Demaratus would have rather I strike down everyone in this room than let them take my hair and my honor.

  But I wasn’t a Daemonian. I was a Locrian who still had a mission to carry out.

  It was only hair. It would grow back.

  I clenched my teeth together and held completely still as they pulled and tugged at my hair, unpinning the careful braids Quynh had made. They cut them off with scissors and I watched as the braids fell like thick ropes onto the floor around me.

  With my gaze pointed down, Quynh’s bracelet caught my eye. I reached over to touch it, to feel the flower knot under my fingertips. She had known at the hetaera house what she was going to do. She had been planning her sacrifice even then. Maybe longer.

  I couldn’t think of her alone somewhere, in the dark. She would be so scared. No, not scared. She would never be afraid again. She was gone. And they were going to burn her with wood that bore no fruit, her ashes tossed into the sea. I wouldn’t even have the chance to give her a proper burial, to say goodbye to her. She would never know peace. That was another unimaginable loss.

  The razor was being dragged over my scalp carefully and I fought back the furious tears that filled my eyes. I would not cry. I would not give these women the satisfaction.

  I would channel all my hurt, my loss, my suffering, my pain into anger.

  Vengeance.

  I would find the eye of the goddess, rebuild my nation, save my sister, and then I would come back here and burn this entire city to the ground.

  My lungs seemed to grow tighter and tighter until I could no longer breathe. I fell forward, the world going black before I passed out.

  I woke up with a start, reaching for my weapon.

  It wasn’t there.

  Everything came rushing back, crashing into me like a giant wave. Pain lanced through me, striking every extremity.

  Quynh was gone. I had made it to the temple and forced them to keep me even though they hadn’t wanted to.

  I raised my wrist and felt a rush of relief that her bracelet was still there.

  Then I reached up to run my fingers along my scalp.

  There was just stubble, rough against my fingertips. They’d made sure to finish the job even though I’d fainted.

  “Good morning,” an entirely too happy voice said to me.

  Again I found myself reaching for my sword. A girl stood at the foot of my bed. She was short and wore her dark hair pinned up. She had light brown eyes, light brown skin, and pink cheeks. She wore a pale green tunic.

  Even though her physical resemblance to Quynh was only slight, there was something that reminded me of my sister. Something that felt familiar and right, as if I’d met this girl before.

  As if my sister had sent her to me.

  Which was confirmed when I heard a voice inside me whisper, You need to trust her, and it sounded just like Quynh.

  My heart clenched in response.

  “I’m Iolanthe,” the girl said. “But everyone calls me Io.”

  “Lia,” I offered.

  “Welcome to the temple. Is there anything I can get for you?”

  My instinct was to accept what the voice had said and believe that she was a nice person who wanted to help, but the wary nature Demaratus had nurtured inside me hadn’t gone anywhere. Just a short time ago, the priestesses had been ready to kick me out, and when they’d been forced to accept me, they had done their best to make sure that I knew I wouldn’t be one of them.

  Why was this Io being so kind to me?

  “Water.” My throat felt like it was on fire.

  She hurried over to a table, where I saw a pitcher and cups. She filled one for me and brought it over.

  I took it eagerly, the cool liquid slipping past my lips, but then I immediately spat it out.

  “What is that?” I asked. There had been a strange metallic taste that I didn’t recognize.

  Io looked confused. “What do you mean?”

  “Is this poisoned?” Was that the way the priestesses had decided to deal with me? Using subterfuge to kill me?

  “No. May I?” She reached for my cup and I gave it back to her. She took a big drink before returning it to me. She waited for a few beats and then held up both of her hands. “See? Not poisoned.”

  “Why does it taste like that?”

  “We get our water from a special fountain and that’s just the taste. You’ll get used to it,” she said, pulling a chair over to the side of my bed. “I understand your suspicion, though.”

  “You do?”

  “It’s a long and complicated story that isn’t worth sharing,” she said with a nod, leaving me to wonder what circumstances she had been in where being poisoned was an actual possibility. Io paused, looking down at her hands. As if it were difficult for her to make eye contact. “I heard that you weren’t exactly welcomed when you arrived.”

  Ha. She was definitely understating it. “They weren’t friendly, no.”

  “And they . . .” Her words trailed off as she pointed at my head.

  I touched my scalp, self-conscious. “They did. Did they do this to you, too?”

  “No.”

  So it was special treatment reserved only for Locrian maidens, then.

  “I’ve been here for a few months,” she added, and it seemed like she was trying to change the course of our conversation.

  I realized that I didn’t know how Ilionian women joined the temple. “What is the process for you to become a priestess? Do they chase you, too?”

  She looked embarrassed and ducked her head slightly. “First, I’m only an acolyte. Like you. It takes a long time to become a priestess. Second, we run, but we aren’t chased. We can, however, do whatever it takes to reach the temple first. Including fighting with other competitors.”

  Io must have seen the incredulous look on my face because she smiled. “I know I must not seem like the sort of person who would win that kind of ultra-competitive race. Acolytes are taken every six months, and they take as many as are necessary to replace priestesses that have died since the last race.”

  “What if no one dies?”

  “Then there are no races. When I participated, they took two. The six months prior to that, they took two as well.”

  That was concerning. Why were priestesses dying so quickly?

  “Of old age,” Io added, correctly interpreting my expression. “We serve our entire lives. Now this will be your home until you die.”

  I didn’t bother to correct her. There wasn’t a point. But even if it was from natural causes, that still seemed like a significant number.

  She leaned in, her eyes twinkling. “Can I tell you a secret?”

  Part of me wanted to warn her that anything she shared with me I’d use to further my own ends, but I couldn’t risk failure. It might mean that I’d have to betray people, pretend to be their friend, earn their confidence.

  It bothered me, and I heard Demaratus’s voice in my head telling me that it shouldn’t.

  “Yes,” I said, pushing those concerns aside.

  “I shouldn’t be here. It’s believed that only the strongest and fastest should be allowed to serve the goddess. I cheated.”

  “You did?”

  She nodded, her eyes dancing. “I have worshipped the goddess and her creations since I was a little girl. The only thing I have ever wanted was to serve her in her temple. I knew I’d never win the race. I’m too small and I’m not very fast. So I hid near the end and waited. After Suri crossed the threshold, I immediately followed her.”

  Her confession made me uneasy. This seemed like information that could get her tossed out of the temple. Why would she tell it to me, an enemy, someone the priestess had wanted to offer to the hunters last night?

  Was it a test? To see where my allegiances might lie?

  Or was she just as she appeared? Kind, generous, trusting?

  Not able to help myself, I vocalized my concern. “Why would you share that kind of confidence with me?”

  She tilted her head and looked at me as if I’d just asked a foolish question. “Because now you are my sister. And we have been waiting for you.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  “Waiting for me?” I asked, not understanding what she meant.

  Io nodded and then stood. “I am to take you on a tour of the temple grounds and then there will be a ceremony for you because it’s the fifth day.”

  She didn’t clarify what she’d meant when she said they’d been waiting for me and instead began to speak about something different. I felt like I was struggling to keep up, my questions overwhelming me.

  “The fifth day of what?” I knew for a fact it was not the fifth day of the month.

  “The fifth day since you arrived.”

  I sat straight up in my bed and realized that I wasn’t in any physical pain. I tested all of my limbs, holding my arms out in front of me, pressing my fingers against my ribs. Had I really been here for five days?

  “Do you have healers with magic?” I asked. My grandmother’s book had mentioned life mages with a special type of magic that could mend bones, stop bleeding, or wipe away any sickness.

  “There hasn’t been someone with that sort of ability in a very long time,” she said.

  Perhaps the mages had drained too much power from their shards?

  “Daphne tended to you, which is why you feel better. You most likely met her the night you arrived. She’s an older woman and wears her hair in one long braid?” Io said as she offered me her hand. “She is a master of potions and remedies. She always knows the best ways to combine various plants and herbs to help others. She’s teaching me how to do it, too.”

  I waved her extended hand away. I didn’t need any assistance. I was more than capable of standing up on my own. I noticed that I was wearing a black tunic, but it seemed different from the one I’d been given initially.

  My feet hit the ground with a thud, like I’d almost forgotten how to walk. I quickly leaned against the bed as Io tried to hide her smile, but she didn’t succeed. It took a few seconds, but I regained control of my legs. She pointed at a pair of leather sandals, and I quickly slid them on and tied the straps around my ankles.

  “This way,” she said as we passed through the open door. “Obviously we were just in the infirmary, and it is situated not too far from the dormitories.” We walked down a long, covered patio with white marble columns along the outer edge. “The dormitories are arranged by age. The older priestesses apparently don’t like sharing their sleeping quarters with the newer acolytes.”

  The inner wall was covered with foreign shields—relics of battles past. I assumed that they were from wars Ilion had won. Were there Locrian shields on display? I didn’t see any.

  And why would they hang them here in the temple, and not in the barracks?

  More questions I wanted answers to. I started to ask about it, but we turned a corner and I couldn’t help but let out a small gasp. There were women of various ages everywhere. Dozens of them. Hundreds. And that was just the women within my eyeline.

  No wonder so many of them passed on within a short period of time.

  And I could feel every single pair of their eyes on me as we headed toward one of the dormitories. I wondered what made them stare. That I was new? The black tunic? The shaved head?

  Or that I was a Locrian maiden?

  While Io seemed so welcoming, none of the women who glared at me did.

  I wished I had my sword with me.

  “How many Locrian women are here?” I asked.

  I already knew the answer but a part of me hoped she might respond differently.

  “None. You are the first to ever make it to the temple.”

  In a thousand years, the first and only. Another thing I couldn’t dwell on—those two thousand girls who had lost their lives for a crime they hadn’t committed.

  My heart clenched as I again thought of Quynh.

  As I avoided the gazes of the women surrounding us, I couldn’t help but take in the greenery. Grass in the open areas. Trees overhead, their leaves swaying gently in a breeze while shading the path. Bushes lining the walkways. So much green, so much life.

  We entered one of the dormitories and climbed the stairs to the second floor. We walked down a long hallway until we reached the last door on the left. “This is our room,” Io said as she opened the door and let me in. It was larger than I would have imagined, big enough to fit five beds. “We have three sisters that you’ll meet later. Your bed is over there, along with your things.”

  The bed she’d pointed to was closest to the window and I rushed over to find my pack. My throwing knives were there, my dagger, the two bags of salt, the tunic that I’d borrowed, my sheath, and my xiphos. Everything had been cleaned and polished. If I’d been alone, I would have kissed my sword. I’d thought I would never see it again.

  “That’s a beautiful weapon.” Io’s voice was tinged with envy, which seemed strange. Why would an acolyte of the earth goddess care about my xiphos?

  “Thank you.” I debated whether I should put it on or leave it here. I figured I wouldn’t have any need of it within the temple complex, and given that it had been waiting for me on my bed for the last five days, I was probably safe to leave it.

  There was a pouch with a long strap attached to it. “What’s this for?”

  “For whatever you’d like to carry. Everyone here wears one.” I glanced at Io and saw that she had hers about her waist. “I find it convenient for keeping snacks for between meals.”

  When I didn’t smile at her jest, she added, “You may want to put your bracelet in there. Jewelry is not permitted at the temple.”

  The idea of taking off Quynh’s bracelet made me ill, but it didn’t seem that I had much of a choice. The temple priestesses already wanted to throw me out—I wouldn’t visibly defy them by breaking their rule.

  My stomach rolled and protested as I undid the knot Quynh had made. I quickly put the bracelet into the pouch and then tied the straps around my waist.

  “Are you ready to see the rest?” she asked when I finished, and I nodded.

  She showed me the dining hall, which was attached to the kitchens and storage rooms, and it wasn’t far from the administrative building. I made a mental note—that might potentially have documents that could prove helpful.

  “Do you have a library?” I asked. That would be the best place for me to start my search. The eye could be anywhere and I needed to gather as much information as I could.

  “No.”

  That surprised me. Even my family still had a library, and we’d had to sell off most of our books.

  Thinking of the palace led my thoughts quickly to Quynh again and that ever-present white-hot pain of losing her, just as sharp and bright as it had been the moment she’d dropped.

  Would it ever not hurt as much?

  My body might have been healed, but my heart had not and I was afraid it never would.

  Io was still talking and I forced myself to pay attention. “There’s no reason for the temple to have a library. No one here can read.”

  Another stunning revelation. In Locris basic education was given to all women, regardless of rank. Although I probably shouldn’t have been surprised that a city that hunted women for sport wouldn’t worry too much about whether girls could read.

  How long had things been this way? My grandmother had taught me that wisdom had always been passed down through the written word—through the stories told, through songs that were sung, through poems read aloud. If women couldn’t read, they couldn’t access that information. They would never know what the women before them had done. How they had been heroines and overcome trials and obstacles.

  I supposed I couldn’t be too outraged over it—my own nation had banned the goddess stories, songs, and poetry entirely.

  “No women in Ilion can read? Not even the daughters of nobles?” I clarified.

  “The daughters of royals and nobles are not allowed to join the temple.”

  A loud warning bell sounded inside me. This felt like treading over dangerous ground. Another reason to hide my identity—it might give the priestesses an excuse to expel me. “Why not?”

  “I suspect that it’s because those kinds of women are expected to make marriages of alliance for their families, but what we’re officially told is that the goddess should only be served by those who have lived lives of hardship, who will know what it takes to sacrifice and to serve, and so those raised in homes of luxury don’t qualify.”

  That certainly wasn’t true. I’d had more than my fair share of obstacles and heartache.

  I knew what it meant to sacrifice and serve.

  I was closely acquainted with adversity and loss.

  Quynh’s face rose up in my mind’s eye and I had to tamp down my feelings again. I wanted to stuff them into a wooden box where I could close the lid and hide them away. I feared I wouldn’t be able to function otherwise.

  Io said, “There might be some books in the head priestess’s office, but she always keeps that locked.”

  Useful information for a later date. Who had the keys? And how would I get my hands on them?

  “Over there is the treasury,” she said, pointing at a large square building.

  Of everything we’d viewed so far, that sounded the most promising. Trying to keep my voice even, I asked, “Does everyone have access to it?”

  I bit back a curse word. I sounded so obvious with my intentions. I might as well have asked her if the eye of the goddess was being held in that building and how I could get inside to steal it.

  But Io didn’t seem to notice. “That’s always locked as well and only the high priestess, Theano, is allowed to go in.”

  I thought of my welcoming committee, of the woman who had commanded the others and had tried to throw me out. “Is she the one who wears the veil?”

  “Yes.”

  “Does she always wear it?”

  “I’ve never seen her without it,” Io said. “And there’s a lot of speculation as to why she has it. Some think she’s been disfigured or burned. Some have guessed that she’s so beautiful that she hides her face away so the gods will not be jealous of her or try to steal her. Others that Theano is the earth goddess herself and must cover her face so that we won’t be incinerated by her glory.”