Ayda’s POV
“How do you know my name?”
I walked down into the sunken base where the priestess and the effigies stood, my hand sliding along the staircase’s banister for support. I was thankful Nicolette and Kathrine had waited outside to give my audience with the priestess some privacy. Now that I knew she was indeed a genuine article, I didn’t want her telling truths to parties I still was unsure of.
“My true name?”
“A silly question for a priestess of the Goddess.” The high priestess never turned her head to acknowledge my movement.
Her eyes were still on the fire in front of the mirror. Well, the beads that symbolized her eyes were lost as they were in the writhing mass of tissue.
“We know many things: what is now, what shall be, what never was.”
“Then you should know why I’m here.”