Sevin: Lords of Satyr (25 page)

She could already hear other students out in the communal room from which all their private chambers branched like spokes from a wheel’s hub. Before she could open the door and join them in their morning bustle, Sophie burst in. Her face was tense, her green eyes wide.

“Leona broke her word,” she announced.

Natalia’s satchel hit the floor. “W-what?”

“This morning. Hoping to avoid her obligation to take part in the festival, she told the priests about last night.” Sophie grabbed her arm. “Come on, you’ve got to get out of here. The priests—hells—the whole community is coming for you.”

Natalia reached for her satchel.

“Leave it. You won’t need it, and it will slow you down.”

With dismay, Natalia realized there would be no class today. There would be no more classes for her to instruct ever, in fact. What did grades, students, and exams matter now? She wouldn’t present her papers at meetings. Would never advance to the position of a professional healer. Her theories and research would never see the light of day. Because the priests had found out about last night, her entire life was about to change.

Taking charge, Natalia pulled their travel papers from her satchel and tucked them into her pocket. Then she leaned into the hall and looked both ways. “It’s clear. We’d better go upward. Out one of the fire escapes, in case they’re already here searching for us.”

“We?” asked Sophie.

“We’re related by blood. If I flee, they’ll look to you as a replacement. Who knows what they’ll do in their efforts to induce you to awaken that statue in my absence.”

Sophie paled.

Natalia took her hand, tugging her from the room. “This way.” Together, they flew from the dormitory and through the school’s main corridor. Whenever they met students, they slowed, kept their heads down, and tried to appear as if nothing were amiss. No one seemed to take special note of them.

“Leona’s revelation obviously hasn’t spread everywhere yet,” Sophie whispered.

Natalia nodded. “Thank the gods for small favors.”

As they reached the second floor landing, Sophie abruptly shoved her back in the lee of a floor-to-ceiling window alcove at the front of the institute. Natalia peeked out and saw that at the bottom of the grand staircase, several of the male professors had gathered. She nudged Sophie and pointed upstairs. They detoured upward.

From the windows along the stairs, Natalia noticed that a mob had formed out on the school lawn. Among them were men dressed in crimson robes. Priests. They were assisted by temple guards dressed in drab blue jerkins and trousers.

Her heart thumped in fear.

“This way,” she whispered to Sophie, taking her hand. They flew up two flights, and then dashed down a narrow hall toward the escape stairs that led to a labyrinth of underground tunnels created by the ancients to store the wine they made from the grapes grown in the community.

Sophie turned through a doorway at right angles to the hall, but before Natalia could follow, someone popped out, barring her way. She ran full tilt into a hard male body. Broad hands stopped her from falling.

“Aha!” a masculine voice crowed.

She glanced up into the face of Gentleman Titus Cato. “Excuse me,” she said, trying to push past. “We’re late for class.”

Beyond him, Natalia watched as several of his cronies grabbed Sophie in an inescapable clench. “Stop that!” she heard Sophie say. Abruptly, her voice was stifled as someone placed a hand over her mouth.

“There are no classes held up here, mistress,” Titus taunted. “Where could you be going in such a hurry, I wonder?”

Natalia lunged in her sister’s direction, but her escape was cut off when two other boys joined Titus. Her view of Sophie was blocked as well, but not before she’d seen the jealousy in the girl’s eyes. Did she honestly believe that Cato was enamored of her? Or she of him?

She turned a stern eye on the boys who’d waylaid her. “I suggest you and your friends let us go, Gentleman Cato. Or I will have disciplinary actions taken against you.”

He laughed and Natalia found herself shoved against the row of wooden lockers, the boys on either side of her holding her arms. Titus’s handsome face filled her vision. He pressed himself full against her, letting his forearms bracket her head.

Never had she been treated so roughly! What made them think they could behave in this way toward her? They must have heard the gossip. She and Sophie had to get away, and fast. She tried not to panic. “What do you want?”

“Heard you were up sniffing around the temple last night,” said Titus. “If I’d known you were looking for that sort of fun, I’d have been glad to provide it.” He plucked at her prim collar. “Truth is, I’ve been pining to see what you look like under this starched uniform, Mistress Natalia. We all have.”

“Do you know what happens to the male physique when it’s kneed in the groin?” she asked coolly. “It’s rather unpleasant.”

One of the other boys holding her snickered.

Titus glared at him. “Now, mistress, don’t be nasty. Just give us a peek. Go on, there’s a dear. Then we’ll let you be on your way.”

She gasped, struggling. “Don’t you dare, you pit of foul deceit! I’ll see you expelled.”

“It no longer matters what liberties we take with you, mistress. You’re the one who’ll be leaving the institute shortly. I just want a look before you go, is all ... and maybe a taste.”

With that, Titus shoved his fingers under the placket of her blouse and yanked downward. Buttons popped off, pinging on the floor.

“Keep watch,” he murmured to one of the others, his eyes greedy on the flesh her gaping blouse had exposed. With her arms held outward, her breasts strained at her corset and shift.

Natalia’s head rolled to the side and she caught a glimpse of Sophie struggling in her captor’s hold. Her eyes were furious above the white-knuckled male hand covering her mouth. If nothing else, at least this episode would serve to show her the true nature of the boy she’d once had finer feelings for.

One of Titus’s friends glanced down the corridor. “Make it fast, Cato. Before we’re discovered.”

Natalia bucked against the wall, her face rouged with bright splotches of anger. “Would you want your own sister to be treated this way?” she hissed at the boy.

“My sister isn’t a harlot like you and Sophie,” he replied. “We heard what you got up to on the hill last night.”

“So this is to be my punishment? You appoint yourselves judge and jury?”

“Shut her up,” Titus told one of his friends. Immediately, a male hand covered her mouth, pushing her head fast to the lockers at her back. Titus’s eyes were on his work as he yanked her shift down and opened her corset. Fabric fell away, and she felt the peaks of her breasts tighten in the morning chill.

All three boys leaned in, their eyes avid. Held mute, she stared fixedly at the breast of her assailant’s jacket. Part of his institute uniform, it was emblazoned with a patch embroidered by the priestesses, which bore the school symbols of honor, tolerance, and piety.

“Gentleman Cato! Unhand the mistress—immediately!” a scandalized voice barked. All three boys jumped away from her as if they’d been scalded. Freed, Natalia swiveled toward the lockers, hunching as she straightened her clothing as best she could.

It was one of the masters, a professor of linguistics, who’d come to her rescue. Behind him, a crowd of men—many of them priests—began to fill the room. She glanced over her shoulder, searching out Sophie. She had been emancipated as well and now seemed to be trying to reach her sister’s side.

Natalia frowned at her, shaking her head. She glanced pointedly at the far end of the hall, hoping Sophie would understand that she was to flee. Her sister stilled uncertainly. Hoping to divert attention from her, Natalia ducked between the boys around her and dashed toward the window. Executing a dive that was a credit to Mistress Marino’s efforts in junior academy aquatics class, she made for the fire escape.

Her hands grazed the iron grate of the outside landing just as the window ledge drove the air from her lungs. Her ribs were bruised, but she’d made it halfway through. She clawed her way forward. Another few inches ...

Somewhere behind her, hard fingers grabbed at her skirts, ankles, knees, hips. Her pursuers reeled her in until she was back inside, fully caught.

As they spirited her away, she searched the corridor for Sophie. She was nowhere to be seen. “Gods protect you,” Natalia whispered under her breath. Then, she was cast adrift amid a sea of male authorities, and hustled off to the temple.

An assemblage of temple guards and priests flanked her all the way up the hill, then lead her up the granite steps to the temple stage. There, all made the sign of respect, including her, but she refused to look at the statue. At
him
. This was all
his
fault.

All around them, members of the community had begun gathering on the hillside, gossiping wildly, and clamoring for news. She glanced over her shoulder and searched the crowd for Sophie, and was relieved not to find her.

The high priest stood center stage. He nodded to the guards, who half dragged her to his side. There, under his watchful eyes, she was forced to confront the damning evidence.

In the stark sunlight, tiny veins of gold and silver sparkled within the alien marble that was
his
body. Her stark handprint still glowed softly at his rib cage.

“Come, mistress,” the high priest said. “Give me your hand.”

She folded her arms across her waist and tucked her hands under her elbows.

His brows pinched together. “Don’t be difficult.”

He motioned to someone behind her. Two guards arrived, and her hand was summarily forced into the hand-shaped depression. The remaining stone there heated again at her touch, but they didn’t seem to notice and let her draw away.

She rubbed her palm on her skirt, worry snaking up her spine.
What the devils is going on here?

“It fits,” the high priest murmured, clasping his hands together in delight.

“Her hand! It fits! It fits!” someone behind her announced. Word spread through the guards to the crowd on the hill, gaining momentum. The excited whisperings grew louder.

“It proves nothing,” Natalia protested. “A thousand hands would fit that print.”

Just then, a group of guards arrived, taking the steps upward to them. One bore the hand-shaped chunk of marble that had fallen to the ground last night. It rested on a tasseled velvet cushion as though it were a precious artifact. They bowed, and then one of them spoke not to her but to the high priest. “It has been tested and conclusively bears her fingerprints.”

“Then there’s no doubt.” The high priest’s piercing black eyes swept her. “You are
his
chosen one.” Natalia shrank back. His rule was absolute in the community, and everyone obeyed.

“Come, girl. I’ll not hurt you.”

Fearing the worst, she allowed him to take her hand in his beringed, pale one, and she breathed a sigh of relief when he only led her away from the altar. Together they approached the edge of the stage.

Facing the assembled crowd, he drew her to a halt, and nodded to the guards, who began calling for quiet. When silence fell, the high priest spoke. His voice rang out across their audience.

“You’ve all heard of the mark discovered only this morning on our godking. The stories of it are true.”

Excited murmurs rippled over the crowd, drowning him out for a moment. She stood docile at the priest’s side, but her eyes darted around in search of escape.

The guards demanded silence again, and then he continued.

“We don’t know what it means, but we are hopeful. The mark was created by Mistress Natalia, one of our instructors at the institute. A healer.”

His palm rested on the top of her head for a moment, then slid around to cup her face. “The ritual will take place as usual at the festival this afternoon. However, under the circumstances, there will be only one bride today.”

“No! I’m not ... ready,” Natalia protested, shrugging him off.

The high priest quirked a brow at her. “Don’t worry on that score. You will be made ready in time.” Then he turned back to the crowd. “You may all return in three hours’ time for the viewing of the ritual at nooning. Go forth now and spread the joyous news!”

Natalia found herself quickly handed off to priests of lower rank and ushered inside the temple, past its mammoth ancient doors, for preparations. Her mind flew wildly, grasping for a way out. Seeing none, she knew she must skew the situation as best she could.

Despite what had happened last night, she had no doubt she would fail at the task these men had set for her this afternoon. As a healer, she’d nursed dozens of girls back to health after they’d survived the ordeal of the sacrificial ritual. Tonight, it would be her own body she would be nursing, her own wounds the priestesses would soothe with salves and remedies under her instruction.

But as soon as she was well again, would these men expect her to take a husband? Would Sophie and the others eventually be inducted at next year’s festival? She’d be damned if she’d allow that to come to pass!