The Last Coffee Shop

Chapter 28: The Acts We Hide Behind

At some point, Mads started to question if she had ever been anywhere but a stuffy, smelly, dark room in the depths of Ga'naa. Luc had attempted to keep her talking, and she'd persistently ignored him.

For some time, she was consumed by fear for what was to come, and the sheer pain throughout her entire body. Her sliced hand, in particular, felt like someone was both trying to burn it and cut it again. She'd definitely gotten sand in there. She wished that she had a light so she could see just how bad the damage was. The pain soon trumped the fear, and if Mads had learned one thing, it was that abject terror wore off pretty quickly.

She drifted in and out of an aching stupor, trying to ignore Luc's unseen presence. This was easier said than done, as the latter claimed to be doing sword forms. Mads heard his robes swishing with motion, and she kept getting bad gusts of rotten-fabric air from that direction. The reek made it hard to ignore him, even if she didn't talk to him.

When the door finally did open, Mads was on her feet in a second, eager for a bit of light or fresher air. Luc still reached the door before her, and he was almost out of it before the guards closed in.

In the face of six spears, Luc stepped back, his unbound hands spread out in front of him, but that didn't keep him from speaking. "Hey, guys, I just want to talk."

"Get back, blasphemer," snarled the foremost guard, shaking his spear in front of Luc's chest.

"That's not nice." But Luc stepped back a few paces all the same.

Mads elbowed Luc when he drew even with her. "So you're not so brave with people you can't flirt with, eh?"

Luc elbowed her back. "I can flirt with anything, but spears aren't really receptive." He flashed her a quick smirk, but his attention quickly reverted back to the spearmen filling the doorway.

Mads rolled her eyes. Luc had truly revealed another side of his personality since he'd dragged her away from the sacrifices. She almost suspected he was having fun. And while she disapproved, his disdain for danger made it a little harder for her to take it so seriously.

"You." The foremost spearman waved his weapon at Mads. "Andhera demands your presence."

Mads glanced at Luc, and he gave her a thumbs up.

Mads shook her head. "I guess I'll tell her you said hi."

Luc grinned, and the emerald flash of his eyes was the last thing Mads saw before she was grabbed and dragged out of the tiny room.

Her escort was a silent band, eight spearmen wearing the bone armor of the Priestess' guard. They formed an impenetrable human shell around Mads, guiding her down winding passages that she quickly lost track of.

Eventually, they ended up in a chamber carved from the same black stone as the temple. It was polished to a shine, reflecting the light from the tar lamps. The floor was black as well, making the whole room look like it was made of oil.

The High Priestess was seated in the only chair in the room. Not surprisingly, the chair was also carved from gleaming black stone. More ominous, to Mads, was that the only other "furniture" was a marble slab that looked suspiciously like a byre.

The priestess looked up from the scroll she'd been reading, and waved her hand at the guards. All but two of the men filed away, and the door swung shut behind them. The two guards who had remained went back to stand by the door, their spears held ready and winking in the smoky light.

"Well, I believe we have unfinished business," said the priestess, her gaze narrowing as she surveyed Mads' disheveled state.

Mads looked down at her blood and dirt coated robe. Her feet and rope sandals were almost completely black. The hem of her robe had no white left. She was probably as gross as Luc's stolen garbage clothes, at this point. And for some reason, the whole scenario gave her the manic desire to laugh.