The Veil - Chapter 20 Part 2

The sermon was long, and Qui’s legs started going to sleep. The ache in her knees made her remember the creeping age that she tried to defy. Hearing Obi shift with a slight groan, she knew he was feeling the same way.

If she turned her head the slightest bit towards the wall, she could see wax from the bright red candles hardening on the floor in small puddles.

“As Saint Terind once prayed for sight for that which he could not see, we must pray that we can see the spiritual struggle going on within and around us. Pray now to the goddess and her faithful servant.”

Everyone lowered their torsos until their noses were almost touching the floor. Qui could do this with little trouble. One of the requirements of her career was to be lithe. She suppressed a smile at Obi’s low hiss. Obviously the years had been less kind to his bones than hers.

She tried to focus on her prayers.

Perhaps Qui wasn’t sincere in many things, but religion was not one of them. Gods did not take kindly to half-heartedness, and Qui was not normally one foolish enough to encourage the bringing of misfortune.

However, Obi was fascinating.

For a man she had judged as rather impious, he seemed fervent in his prayers.

As men and women began to get up and leave after the unspoken time that was deemed religious enough, Obi stayed, his lips moving silently, his breath a soft slightly uneven rasp against the smooth marble. His hands, held tightly against his chest in what looked like an uncomfortable position, clenched and unclenched spasmodically.

Qui was curious, but not so curious that she would make it obvious that she was watching him. She closed her eyes for a few quick moments to rattle off a few prayers so frequent they were practically robotic.

Goddess, protect my sisters. While the priestesses are against us, I cannot believe you would never refuse to take us to your bosom with the rest of your children.

Allow me to keep my clients.

Give me an opportunity to be something more than a whore.

She almost got up then, paused, and settled once more.

Protect Lekan, please.

With that, she stood, leaving Obi on the ground as she slipped across the white marble, glancing at the small rectangular windows just below the ceiling to see how late it was.

The clouds were bruised a light purple.

She followed the line of followers out of the door, dipping her hand into the bowl of water and allowing a priestess to touch the top of her head with desert heather tied to a stick.

“Be the servant’s tool as you go about your way,” the priestess murmured as each person passed.

She stepped back into reality, the eleven steps leading back to the street turning darker and darker red until she was standing in the dust. Standing to the side, she watched the door, waiting for Obi to exit.

He passed through the arched doorway, shaking his hand dry as he descended quickly, taking the smallest of pauses after every second step as if walking to a song in his head. He glanced over as if expecting her and gave her a strained smile. “I suppose I could make myself known to you and avoid questions at the time.”

“That’s an astute assumption, Mr. Eshe,” she murmured, swaying her hips as she approached him.

Raising an eyebrow at her, he began to walk, seeming to expect her to walk with him. She was wary until he offered his arm and then all of her alarms went off, telling her to step away. “Well, Qui’in, are you going to ask your question?”

She took his arm though her mind screamed at her to run, that something was fishy about Obi Eshe right now.

“You are not a religious man,” she said as they walked, ignoring the glances that were shot their way.

Shrugging, he looked down at her, not as disdainful enough to make her comfortable. “Should I answer the implied question there?”

Looking straight ahead, allowing his arm to brush against the side of her breast and her hip to touch his thigh in time to their steps, she nodded. “If you wish.” She wasn’t sure what game they were playing anymore. She had planned peppering him with questions and blocking aversions until she had either answers or an enjoyably pissed off Obi.

Putting his other hand on hers so he had more control of their positioning, shooting her a look that told her he knew what she was doing and that he was doing something altogether different. He didn’t try to widen the distance between them though.

“I am not normally one for religion,” he said slowly, “But I couldn’t imagine a better time to take it up.”

She blinked slowly when he tilted his head until his mouth was far too close to her ear. To any observing, it would look scandalously provocative, especially coming right out of the temple.

She felt anger burst the sweet calm she’d been existing in. People did not play with her. People did not use her. She tugged their strings, and they fell into place where she needed them to. Something was going on, something she didn’t know about, and Obi had just dragged her in. If she was going to be in a chess game, she was not going to be a pawn. “Obi,” she hissed, “You’re going to tell me why the fuck you’re using me this moment, or I swear to the goddess, I will make a scene right here and accuse you of taking advantage. We know I’m very close to Kamaria, and she and Rofulo have little use for you right now.”