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I move closer, and my blood chills. The drawings show crystalline formations. Beautiful, intricate, and vaguely grotesque. I know these formations too well.

“According to the notes here, these are growing in temples everywhere.” Helene stalks closer to the wall, and I cast extra light to help her read. “The scientist-priests were studying them.”

Bastian leans in, his mouth set in a grim line. “Like the ones from the fountain. And at the Divine Commons.”

Agnar catches my eye. “And the portal.”

“Exactly.” My fingers start to tingle, and I realize my fire is responding to my fear by heating the air around us.

“The scientist-priests learned the formations seem to appear during intense prayer gatherings.” Rafe flips through more journal pages. “They tracked the patterns. More prayers equals more crystals. That could either mean more people praying, prayers being more intense, or prayers happening more often. They charted it out.”

I gravitate to a table where diagrams display what look to be energy measurements. Lines surge and fall but trend steadily upward. “What were they measuring?”

“They believe the crystals were connected to divine power somehow.” Helene shuffles through papers. She pauses, squinting at a page heavily stained with blood. “Their last entry is partially obscured. ‘The gods aren’t helping us.’ I can’t make out the rest. ‘Heeding’? ‘Seeing’?”

We all crowd around, but blood has damaged too much of the text. So much blood that the page is glued to the back cover, rendering the final words of the scientist-priests a mystery.

Bastian frowns at a small box containing crystal cuttings before lifting one carefully. The object glints in the light like frost on a window. “These remind me of ice chips that never melt. But what exactly is being frozen?”

Agnar shrugs. “Things could be trapped inside it. The same way salt will grow around other minerals, which changes the color and flavor.”

Discontent mounts as we ponder the possible implications. Gods gaining power from mortal prayers, crystalline formations appearing at sites of worship, scientist-priests murdered for their discoveries…

Still, the true meaning remains just out of reach, like a word on the tip of the tongue. “We need to get these journals back to the palace. Maybe Knox can⁠—”

“No.” Agnar slams the box of crystals closed. “He’s got the Champions Match to prepare for. His focus needs to remain there.”

“But this could be connected to everything else.” I gesture toward the mess. “The religious cult, the attacks, all of it. The Devoted wanted this hidden. To keep from us whatever the scientist-priests discovered.”

At the mention of the Devoted, we all instinctively study the signs of violence around us.

Helene gestures to the bloodstains. “You think the Devoted did this?”

“The missing scientist-priests, the destroyed research…” I nibble on my lip. “Who else would want to silence people questioning the nature of divine power?”

“Definitely the Devoted.” Rafe nods, his voice hard. “Without a doubt.”

“Let’s pack everything up. Maybe once we get the papers cleaned, we can figure out what got them killed.” I search for bags, baskets, and anything else we can use. “And maybe find others of their order to give this stuff to.”

We gather what journals and papers we can, stuffing them into bags and cloak pockets. The crypt feels colder, or maybe that’s just the chill of revelation settling into my bones.

As we climb back up the stairs, the weight of knowledge presses down on us, and each step becomes more laborious than the last. So much carnage left behind, and no one to blame for it.

No one to make pay.

Outside, the frigid night air slaps me in the face, and I huddle into my cloak. I would expand my wings to raise my body temperature and help chase away the cold, but our group forms a tight cluster. I don’t want to risk smacking someone in the face, especially not while carrying important items. The darkness enveloping the empty street feels watchful, aware. And not in a divine way either. In a very mortal, very dangerous way.

“We need to move against the Devoted now.” Rafe grinds his teeth, constantly glancing over his shoulder. “Before they silence anyone else.”

“With what evidence?” A shivering Helene hunches into her cloak. “Bloodied journals and crystal formations that have existed in temples for centuries?”

“You saw the remnants of what happened in there.” Agnar gestures back toward the temple. “People were killed for what they knew.”

“Or what they thought they knew.” Helene hesitates, waiting for Bastian to tell us which way to go. “These are theories, not facts. The scientist-priests could be wrong.”

Bastian points down an alley. “Multiple temples, multiple gods, and the same patterns. That’s not coincidence.”

I shake my head, still trying to piece the puzzle together. The scientist-priests came from every temple. Why kill them when at least some must have served Zeru or his allies? “We need to be careful about⁠—”