Divined by Emily Wibberley Page A

the rows of scrolls packed into towering shelves. In the center of the room was a shallow pond, reflecting the faded murals painted on the ceiling.
    “Stories of the Deities would be back here,” Ealis said, walking over to a smaller rack behind the pond.
    “How do you have this?” Clio wondered as she ran a hand along the aged vellum.
    “Many of those who sought refuge in Cearo brought with them Deities from faraway lands. We’ve recorded as much as we could about where they came from and whom they worshipped. And from time to time, someone would come to the temple and show us a strange mark they had on their flesh. They wished to free themselves from the cruel Deities of their past.”
    “You have to forsake worship and destroy the mark to escape,” Clio said.
    “We learned that eventually, and we recorded as many marks as we came across here.” He gestured to the shelf. “I had wondered if there was something in here that could help you with yours, but it’s been difficult to search without knowing the nature of your curse.”
    “Mine runs in my blood.” Both Vazuil’s blood and her father’s.
    “That does makes it harder to destroy. Have you tried bleeding it out of you?” he asked as he pulled down scrolls and began unrolling them on a low table.
    “At first. Nox helped me. It worked for a while, but then as I healed, it always came back.”
    “I see.” He frowned. “I’m afraid there are no accounts in here pertaining to an Oracle, but I can perform some examinations—”
    Clio placed a hand on his arm, stopping him. “Thank you, Ealis. Truly.”
    Color rose in his cheeks, and he smiled almost shyly. “I suppose we should get started then. We have a lot of scrolls to get through if we are going to find a way to help you and find out who sent your attacker.”

    There was no way to determine how much time had passed in the cavern as they dug through scroll after scroll, but at some point, a girl in gray robes brought down supper. It sat cold and uneaten as Clio refused to pause in her search. Some of the writings were illegible from years of decaying parchment, but Clio stared at the small symbols etched across the page until her eyes were bleary and heavy.
    “Here’s something,” Ealis called out, his voice breaking through the long silence.
    “What?” Clio jumped up.
    “It’s the mark on your chest,” he said, pointing out the small recreation of Daizon’s mark on the page.
    “I don’t need to learn more about a Deity I’ve already killed.” She rubbed her eyes with frustration.
    Ealis looked up, and Clio instantly regretted the harsh edge in her tone. “I’m sorry, I just feel as if we’ve been at this for ages, and there hasn’t been a single reference to whoever this Deity is.”
    “Perhaps we should take a break, eat something.” He reached for their untouched plates and passed one to Clio.
    She chewed without tasting. This woman was out there somewhere, getting closer to Riece, and Clio was nowhere nearer finding out who sent her. Sleep crept through her mind, slowing her thoughts, and dragging at her eyelids. “What did it say about Daizon?” she asked, trying to fight through her exhaustion.
    “It called him ‘The Fallen One’ and said he was responsible for inciting a war among the Deities—”
    “The Fallen One?” Clio asked, interrupting.
    “Well, yes. We don’t have any of the Deities’ true names down here, but there are other ways of referring to a particular Deity.”
    “My father, he called Vazuil, ‘The Low One’. I never saw his symbol but maybe there’s an easier way to find him under that name.”
    “Mmm, it’s possible.” Ealis stood and rolled up the scroll he had been reading. “Tomorrow.”
    “Go ahead, I’m going to keep looking for a while.”
    “Clio, you can barely keep your eyes open. It’s time we retired for the night. Won’t your sisters worry about you?”
    “I’ll go soon, just a little while longer. I promise,” she