Lovely. The priestess returned with four guards. Satisfied, the priest led my companions away. Odd glanced back. He kept his expression neutral, but his gaze showed his fear.

“Sit,” the priestess ordered, gesturing to a wooden chair in front of her desk.

The four guards stared at me. What would happen if I refused? They were armed with long sticks made from a reed. Bamboo maybe? No cutting edge, but I’d bet they’d sting when slapped against skin. No sense causing trouble. Not yet. I sat.

Tucking a strand of brown hair behind her ear, she pulled a sheet of parchment and asked me my name.

“Sergeant Irina of Gubkin Realm.”

“Wrong answer,” she said, snapping her fingers.

Fire raced across my back. The force of the blow sent me to the floor, gasping in pain. Two guards yanked me back into the chair. I hunched over until the burning eased.

“Your name is Penitent Two-Five-Nine-Seven.” She nodded at the man behind me.

He grabbed my left arm, pulled my sleeve up and slapped a metal cuff around my wrist. It clicked into place, pinching my skin. He released me and I examined the inch-wide metal. The numbers two, five, nine, and seven had been etched on it. Were there 2596 other penitents incarcerated here? I shuddered at the thought.

“What’s your name?” she asked again.

“Penitent Two-Five-Nine-Seven.”

“Good. I hope this means you’re a fast learner. It will save you a lot of pain and punishment.” She leaned forward. “The rules are simple. Obey and pray for forgiveness.” The priestess stood. “Follow me.”

I hurried after her, and the four guards stayed close behind me. She escorted me to a washroom. With the threat of the armed men right outside the door and under her watchful eye, I removed my clothes and the layers of grime. When I finished, she handed me a clean brown robe and undergarments. She wouldn’t let me put on my travel clothes or boots. So much for my hidden contraband.

Barefoot, I followed her through a maze of corridors, chambers and a half dozen locked doors. She finally stopped at a double-barred door guarded by four men.

“This is your sleeping quarters. Tower number ten. After supper, all penitents report back to their towers for the night. There are bunks on every level. Find an empty one. Prayers start at dawn.”

She left me with the door guards. They wrote my number down on a list, opened the doors, pushed me inside, and relocked the heavy metal doors.

Locked in a tower. I almost giggled at the thought.

I stepped deeper into the dark room. Bunk beds four high had been stacked around the circular room. The light from the guard station reflected off a dozen pair of eyes. The occupants of the beds stared at me. Was Melina here? Doubtful.

“Uh...hello,” I tried.