I’m done for. If I tell them what I know, they will accuse me of disloyalty. If I lie and they discover it for themselves later, it will be much worse.
“I did go to the Temple alone,” I say. “But it was not to see the Hajin. I saw another. Circe.”
“Gemma…,” Ann whispers.
Philon’s eyes widen. “The deceiver? She is dead. Killed by your hand.”
“No,” I say. “She is still alive. Imprisoned in the well of eternity. I needed to see her, to ask her about the Winterlands and—”
A ripple moves through the crowd. They press closer. Felicity stares at me in horror.
Neela is up, her voice slicked with fury, her mouth twisted in a deranged smile. “I told you, Philon! I told you she could not be trusted! That she would betray us as the others did. But you would not listen. And now, now Creostus is dead. He is dead….” She buries her face in her hands.
“So this one of the Order is housed in the Temple. With the Hajin,” Philon says.
“No. That’s not quite how it is. And she isn’t of the Order. They would have nothing to do with her—”
“But you would?” a centaur growls.
Neela addresses the crowd. There are no tears in her eyes. “Would you take the word of one who has lied? You see that even her own friends did not know of her deception. The Order priestess and the deceiver have conspired with the Hajin to take the power! Perhaps Creostus knew too much, and this is why he was murdered! Philon! Will you not demand justice?”
The centaurs, the forest folk, the Gorgon—all turn their faces toward Philon, who closes those catlike eyes and breathes deeply. When the eyes open again, there is something hard and determined in them, and I am afraid.
“I have given you the benefit of the doubt, Priestess. I have defended you to my people. And in return, you have given us nothing. Now I will side with my people, and we will do whatever is necessary to protect ourselves. Nyim nyatt e volaret.”
The centaurs lift their fallen brother above their heads, then carry his dead body on their shoulders.
“Philon, please…,” I start.
The creature turns its back to me. One by one, like doors slamming, the forest folk turn as well, shunning me. Only Neela acknowledges my presence. As she follows her people from the grotto, she turns back and spits in my face.