“The book says, ‘Come to me bare and as uninhabited as the day you were born. It is only when man strips him himself bare and gives up all restrictions in the name of The True One that he will see what was hidden. This clarity frees you to see my truth, my word and my belief in you. For I believe and love each of you. May you take upon yourself this task to understand, know, and love me.”
Complete silence ensued. Some disciples wove throughout the benches. Each of them carried a large golden goblet in one hand and a metal ball on a chain that wafted the familiar smokey incense. This cult was obsessed with incense.
Each disciple stopped in front of every person. They made a complicated hand motion and moved onto the next person. Were they using sigils? This was the second time I’d witnessed the group using them.
“What are they doing,” I asked Isa.
“It is the offering. We give part of ourselves to show the dedication and love of The True One.”
The disciple was in front of me. He murmured meaningless words and swirled the incense around me. Quick as a snake, he lashed out, stabbing into my hand with a long needle. Before I could rip my hand away, he splashed my blood into the goblet. By the time he finished with Isa, I was seeing red.
“You didn’t think it was important to tell me that they use blood magic?”
“Oh no, we don’t practice that here. It is purely symbolic. The blood is disposed of. It represents how the truth can be painful and by trusting in our leaders, we can continue to walk the path of truth.”
“I don’t want to be bled. Next time, I’m refusing.”
“Oh no, you cannot do that. The True One takes offense at such a rejection.”
“If you don’t like it, then go tell His Highness. That’s the last time I bleed for any of you.”
“No one has refused to participate in the ceremony before. Please, you mustn’t refuse, it reflects poorly on me as your mentor. Your failures are my failures.”
“What are they going to do, flog you? Kill you?”
She didn’t respond. Why was the bloodletting such a big deal if it was symbolic? This is the second time, I’d seen blood involved with their meetings. Isa might be naïve enough to trust that these people weren’t using blood magic, but I wouldn’t make that mistake.
Neither of us said another word as Jarl continued his sermon. I perked up when he mentioned community outreach. Is this how they found Emma Lynn and got her involved?
“We are taking volunteers for this week’s outreach. Please see Enja to sign up to an area. The rest of you participate by making brewing the tea and making cookies for them to give out.”
Outreach was an opportunity to see these people in action. When I figured out what these cultists were up to, I doubt they’d be very welcoming. How hard would it be to keep getting the incense once this case was over?
“Will I do outreach?” I asked.
“No, we get to cook.”
She sounded mad at me. I guess she really didn’t want to cook. I snickered. Just wait until they see how piss-poor my cooking skills were. They’d be lucky if I only burnt the cookies and not the kitchen.
“Where do you perform the outreach at?”
“Normally, we go into the community centers. We have partnership with many of them. They let us leave pamphlets and give talks about how we can support the community. That’s actually how I came to be a disciple.”
“So, this is just visiting community centers? I could do that.
“No, we recently expanded our program. We do art classes, hold charity events, donate food to the needy, and lots more. It’s just one way we give back to the unfortunate and spread the True One’s love while we’re doing it.”
She stood up. “Come on, we want to get to the kitchens early enough to pick our station.”
“Station?”
“Yes, wait until you see how we make cookies. It’s not like anything you’ve seen before.”
26
Isa wasn’t kidding about the kitchen stations. I doubt even palaces had kitchens the size of this one. It was obscenely big and the size of a restaurant’s seating area. There were countertop islands – each with different ingredients and kitchen tools. Just being here made me nervous.
Unfortunately, many of the stations were already manned, so we headed over to one of the large stoves. It was a hulking metal beast, topped with nine burners. On the counter next to it was a tower of empty trays waiting to be filled.
“Just wait here, I’ll be right back,” she said.
Before she could leave, a man stalked over to us. “No dogs allowed in the kitchen,” he said. “He’ll have to leave.”
“He’s an emotional support animal. He won’t be any trouble or do any damage,” I said.
“I don’t want him eating the cookies. They aren’t to be wasted on an animal.”
“Oh Andrew, I see you’ve met our new seeker, Marty.”
“Her dog has to leave.”
“No, he doesn’t, His Highness authorized it. The dog goes wherever Marty goes.”
Andrew snarled and left. He was the first confrontational person I’d seen here. The mage that greeted me the first time hadn’t been hostile, just protective. For some reason, Andrew’s reaction was reassuring. Everyone here was unnaturally upbeat and downright cheery. It was unnatural to see only happy people. No one was happy all the time. His, at least, was a genuine emotion.
“Sorry about that. Andrew helps run the kitchen. He tends to be a bit bossy, but he’s not a bad man. He just takes his duty very seriously and we’re not used to having animals here. My errand can wait. I’ll stay here with you in case Andrew decides to bother you again.”
“Thanks.”
The stove was different from the stoves
