Crucible of Fate Read Free Page B

people to his cause and—”
    “Domin—”
    “Everyone expected him to be made maahes. Asdiel Kovo, the new priest, never stops asking me when it will happen. He, much like everyone else, never considered that Ammon’s brother would not be made maahes. He said that choosing you was—”
    “I don’t give a shit,” Crane cut me off. “The new priest is a dick.”
    Taj, who’d been listening the whole time, snorted from behind me, and when I looked back at him, he opened his eyes wide and shrugged.
    “What? Crane’s right, he is a dick.”
    “He’s a man in love with the sound of his own voice,” Mikhail chimed in.
    “Whatever he believes, or doesn’t, is of no interest to us. Crane’s right—do not concern yourself with these petty annoyances. Allow your maahes to handle the affairs of his station.”
    “Thank you,” Crane grumbled and stalked away, first down the hall, and then I saw him veer off down the stairs leading to the back entrance and beyond to the gardens.
    I faced Mikhail. “Have you lost your mind?”
    The expression on his face was pure annoyance. “Here’s what’s probably going to happen,” he said. “Elham will insist on a challenge, and it will be him and one other in the pit with Crane and whoever he chooses.”
    I figured there was more, and when I realized that was it, I glared. “For fuck’s sake, Mikhail, I know that! But it can’t be you, and it can’t be Taj or any of my khatyu or the Shu, so who the fuck from around here is going into the pit who gives a shit about Crane or me? That’s what I’m trying to get him to think about. Whoever he takes in there with him is just gonna fold and let him get beat up, or worse, and if anything happens to Crane on my watch, Jin will—”
    “Then you shouldn’t have brought him,” Mikhail said sharply. “If you’ll excuse me, I have a meeting of the sylvans to lead.”
    He took off before I gave him my permission to go, and Taj gave me a quick nod before he was gone, walking away in the opposite direction.
    “Thanks,” I yelled out. “I really enjoy these morning get-togethers of ours!”
    No one was listening to me.
     
     
    T HE villa was supposed to be mine. It didn’t feel like it. The residence of the semel-aten, while a home, was more like a vast resort and college campus all rolled up together. I had no idea who half the people in the sprawling mansion were at any given time. The place was simply too big, too filled with marble columns and staircases and statues of gods and goddesses and balconies and alcoves and just space. So much yawning space. It was supposed to be my haven, but my sanctuary wouldn’t be filled with floor mosaics and frescoes that ran through rooms and down halls. Living in the villa of the semel-aten was like living in a museum. The only time I felt any sort of peace at all was when I was in my own quarters.
    The area I occupied with Yuri was small—by villa standards—and was located behind the patch of papyrus near the back of the roof gardens. To get to our bedroom, you came up a winding staircase and there encountered a wrought-iron gate that remained locked at all times. Once that was opened, you stepped out onto an enormous stamped concrete terrace that had a view of the main courtyard and, beyond that, miles of desert and hills. Walking the length of the patio brought you to a set of pivoting glass doors, and through them was our area. 
    Inside the suite, to the left was a wall of floor to ceiling pivoting windows that resembled the doors but half the size. When everything was open, a warm breeze blew through the space and it felt open and airy. The room itself was a thousand square feet, with a bathroom and a smaller balcony on the opposite side that ate into the space. On the main terrace section you had to cross to get to our private quarters, one portion of the area was the garden with acacia trees, papyrus, blue lotus that grew near the reflecting pools, and bougainvillea. The