Octavia counted the ribs in the vaulted ceiling over her head as she walked through the Cathedral. The corridor she strolled down was identical to the scores of other corridors she'd wandered that morning. Or perhaps it was the same corridor, and she'd been going in circles like a mindless daywalker.

Of the five floors that made up the Cathedral, she'd had only visited the first two, and with company. The layout of the place had appeared simple enough when she had someone to guide her, but alone, she understood how massive and deceiving it was. Much like the Divine City.

To distract herself from the fact that she was lost, she went down a list of things she needed to get done today. She had a meeting with the Council at midday to coordinate a strategic search of the island which included every building in the village along with the ruins and the docks. Then the medics wanted to see her that afternoon. Much to her chagrin, none of this day's activities involved teaching.

With her secret out, it made no sense to continue masquerading as music teacher, but that wouldn't stop her from seeing her students again. Especially when they were the reason she was still here. She hoped they wouldn't be too crushed when they found out she wouldn't be teaching them anymore. But her duty as a necromancer trumped her duty as an educator. Since the schoolhouses had been destroyed, classes for the younger students were held in the Cathedral's common room, while the older kids were in the study.

Sicero had left for the Council Hall, and Claud wasn't in his workshop, which left her on her own to wander this place. Around every corner, down every corridor and up every flight of stairs, she found locked doors, empty rooms and silence. Her mind conjured up images of the floors opening up and swallowing her, or a wall splitting open and an eldritch horror grabbing her by the neck and dragging her to her doom.

This Cathedral seemed less like a building and more like a living, breathing thing. An apex predator sitting atop a pedestal and leering down at them all like the insignificant creatures they were. No wonder Quintus burned the one in Avaly to the ground.

Octavia looked down at the variegated tile, her footfalls her only company in the corridor. The belly of this beast seemed bigger on the inside than it was on the outside. And crawling with Priests—the Divine City's stooges to boot. She stuck her hand in her pocket and clutched the handle of her dagger.

She'd stared at it for far too long this morning before deciding to carry it with her. Everyone smiled in her face now, but she didn't know if those smiles were genuine, or carefully placed props to gain her trust so she wouldn't abandon Hedalda. On top of that, the netherborne's presence still plagued her mind, adding another layer of paranoia.

Octavia came to a junction at the end of the hall looked up and down the corridor. Doors lined the wall on one side, and curtain-covered windows on the other. Before she could retreat, one door swung open and out walked Zhen in full priestly regalia. Her grip on her dagger tightened.

"Octavia?"

Octavia raised her free hand in an awkward wave. "Good morning. I was just on my way to the common room."

"Ah. You took the wrong hall then. The common room is on the other side. I'll show you." Zhen motioned for her to start down the hall.

A quiver settled in Octavia's gut as she fell into step with Zhen. Thumbing the jeweled pommel of her dagger calmed her fluttering heart. But she felt as though someone would jump from the shadows and slam a knife in her back. Or someone standing next to her.

"I..." Zhen cleared her throat. "I didn't get to thank you. For saving me. So thank you."

It took a moment for the fog in her mind to part. Images of her kneeling beside a couch and singing flashed through her mind. And on that couch was Zhen, with blight climbing up her arms, sprouting trees and flowers. "Oh. Think nothing of it."

"I'm still experiencing some pain and stiffness." The priestess rubbed her elbows and wrists as she spoke. "The medics gave me elixirs to help me cope, but our knowledge of the blight is limited."

"That's normal." Octavia met the woman's eyes, and the quiver in her stomach doubled. She kept her face impassive despite the wave of nausea crashing over her. "I caught you before it got too bad, but it will take your body years to recover completely."

"H-how many years?"

She shrugged and wiped the sweat from her palms. "Ten? Twenty? It depends."

Zhen fell silent for a moment, her dark eyes growing distant. "I see. Well, thank you again." She stopped front of an arched wooden door. "This is it."

"Thank you." Octavia hurried inside and closed the door, leaning her head against it. Sweat beaded her brow despite the chill settling over her body. She inhaled a breath and held it until her lungs screamed. It's fine. You're fine.

"M-miss Octavia?"

Octavia held her body rigid to stop herself from startling at the small voice. In her frantic haste, she had not noticed Arietta sitting alone on a settee. The child's eyes were full of water and her face streaked with tears. She was in worse condition than the last time Octavia saw her—gaunter cheeks, corpse-like rings around her eyes and her clothes dwarfing her small frame.

"Arietta? Why are you in here alone?"

The child ducked her head, wisps of hair falling free from the knitted cap on her head. "Everyone went downstairs with Miss Winslet. I wasn't feeling well enough to go outside and play."

She took a seat next to the child, and the quiver in her gut faded. "Well, I'm happy to see you. How have you been?"

Arietta shrugged. "Fine, I guess. I was hoping you would come back. There's something I wanted to ask you."

"Go ahead."

"What happens when you die?"

The question fell over Octavia like a torrential downpour, sucking all the warmth from her body. She'd been around enough dying people to know the signs, to know when they were slipping away from this world and passing into the next. They asked such questions, got lost in their own heads more than usual and had dreams of sprawling gardens and loved ones who'd passed before them.

"I tried asking papa, but he told me not to worry about it," Arietta continued. "You know, don't you?"

"I. . ." Octavia coughed. "It's a little complicated." Despite her excuse, Arietta looked up at her with expectant eyes, head tilted. "When you die, your spirit goes to the nether."

"With the netherborne?!"

"No, Arietta no. The nether is like a coin, it has two sides. On one side is Eternity. That's where the dead go, and there aren't any netherborne there. I promise."

"Eternity?" Arietta worried the edge of her scarf. "Do you know what it's like there?"

"Beautiful. Trees, sunshine, rolling hills that stretch from horizon to horizon. Flowers blooming everywhere—every kind you can imagine, and some you can't. Rivers flowing from snow-capped mountain into vast oceans, endless stretches of white beaches. And so much more." Octavia leaned back in the couch and gave the ceiling a thoughtful look. "I suppose that's why it's called Eternity, because it would take that long to explore all its wonders."

Thumping in the hall cut into their conversation and drew Octavia's attention to the open door.

A huffing Pilar appeared in the doorway, and leaned on the frame for support. "Octavia, you're needed downstairs. Right now."

No rest for the weary. She gave Arietta's shoulder a squeeze. "Take care." It hurt to leave the girl up there by herself, especially when she seemed so troubled. If she resolved whatever matter needed her attention quick enough, she'd return and sit with Arietta until Winslet and the other children returned. She followed Pilar at a jog, through the halls towards the foyer. As they got closer, shouts filtered through the halls, too muffled by the distance they'd traveled to be coherent

When they reached the top of the staircase, they met Zhen and Quintus at the epicenter of the cacophony, the former gripping the handle of her sword while the latter goaded her with a mocking laugh. Claud stood at the base of the steps with two other priests, one hand pocketed while the other roughed up his already scruffy hair.

Zhen drew her weapon and held the tip an inch away from Quintus' throat. "You can't just barge in here and make demands. This Cathedral is under the jurisdiction of the Divine City, not Hedalda or Avaly."

Quintus leaned into the blade, the tip pressing into his throat, and leveled Zhen with his gaze. "And if I burn this place to the ground? Whose jurisdiction will it be under then?"

A million questions blitzed through Octavia's head, but she shoved them aside and hurried down the steps. "Quintus back off!" She marched pass Claud and the other priests before grabbing him by the ear and pulling him from the end of Zhen's blade. "What are you doing here?"

"Easy, Octavia," he said. "I heard your song, so I took the Maiden's Glory and rode the winds hard. I haven't slept in twenty-two hours. Then I have to come here and deal with the Divine City's inhospitable, uncultured shills."

Zhen rushed forward, dark eyes ablaze with fury, but Claud caught her around the waist. "You're one to talk, you boorish ogre!"

Octavia stepped into the crossfire. "That's enough. Quintus, stop provoking her."

"As you wish." He laid hands on her shoulders and raked his gaze over her. "But kindly tell me what in damnation happened to you?"

"I'm fine. You stole Jaredeth's boat? Does he know you're here?"

"Listen, don't you dare try to make this about me." His eyes lingered on the flaky scabs encircling her wrists. "You look as though you got thrown into the ashen pits. You were in purgatory, weren't you?" When she didn't answer, he sighed and shook his head. "Come, we're leaving this gods forsaken island."

"I'm not leaving Quintus. I can't abandon my students."

"You need to wake up!" He shook her. "You can't save everyone. This place, these people." He leered at the priests milling about the foyer. "They don't deserve this kind of effort after what they did to you."

Octavia stepped out of his grasp and folded her arms across her chest. "I understand your concern, and I know you're upset about what happened. But I stayed here for them. I'm staying here for them."

"Octavia..." His words trailed off, and he tilted his ear up to the ceiling, his bushy brows drawn tight. "Do you hear that?"

She frowned. Her ears didn't picking up anything, save for the murmurings of the priests, but with the sorry state she was in, her senses were likely impaired. She squeezed her eyes shut and tuned out the sounds of the priests. Her ears picked up a flowing melody and a lilting cadence of words. Singing.

Octavia rushed pass the priests and out the entrance, not bothering to grab warmer clothes. Those lingering outside had dropped what they were doing and turned their gazes skyward. The song fell over the village, filling its perpetual quiet and caressing the air like a summer breeze. Its words were foreign, yet familiar, and the voice that sang them held an otherworldly beauty gentle as a mother's touch. A low vibration followed the tune, its gentle warmth humming through her body.

Octavia's stomach turned over, and an icy finger ran down her spine. "This is necromancy."