The Arch Priestess caught herself on the stone railing, one hand gripping the carved surface hard enough to whiten her knuckles. The golden light behind her flickered like a candle in a draft.
Quinlan glanced at Black Fang. The woman wore a perfect mask, though her katana hadn't lowered one bit.
"So?" Quinlan called up the steps. "Were you told that the 'terrible scumbag with the reign of terror' is actually a pretty decent guy? I'm curious what Lilyanna said about me. Gods know she's got lots of opinions."
Velara's gaze dropped to her staff, still lying where it had fallen at her feet. She stared at it as if she didn't recognize it. Her hands trembled as she crouched, fingers closing around the shaft with none of the authority she'd held it with moments ago.
She rose slowly. The staff's gemstone flickered once, dimly, and went still.
When she spoke, her voice was hollow.
"The Goddess has conveyed her will to me directly."
A breath. Then another.
