Seren's mind replayed the moment over and over, the fall of the ropes, the way the child's gaze had sharpened into something not her own, the air itself warping in reverence.
She still could not decide if she had been terrified or enthralled. Perhaps both.
The chief priest was waiting within the inner sanctum, kneeling at the base of the colossal statue of Adiram. His voice rasped as he greeted them: "The vessel walks. Praise the God Returned."
The girl tilted her head, lips curving faintly. But when she spoke, it was not the voice of a child. It was a man's, deep and resonant, carrying the weight of centuries.
"Rise, little servant. Your god does not need your spine bent so far."
The priest obeyed, trembling, eyes glassy with awe. Seren, however, narrowed her gaze. She had long dreamed of power, long resented her brother Yakim for being chosen Alpha instead of her. But never had she dreamed she would walk beside something like this.
