Marissa sat back on the soft mattress, her legs curled beneath her. She held the silver locket up to the light to his face, letting the fire's glow catch the polished metal. It swung gently from its chain, a pendulum marking the seconds they had left.
"I prayed on it," she said softly, her voice filled with a quiet intensity that made Derek's heart ache. She looked at the silver heart as if it were a holy relic. "I took it to the church in the city. I knelt for hours on the cold stone floor until my knees were numb. I asked the saints to watch over you."
She looked up at him, her eyes serious, dark pools in the dim light.
"And I also took it to the ancestors in the hall," she whispered. "I lit incense. I bowed to your ancestors, to your father's tablet. I bowed to Theodore's. I asked them to guide your sword."
She reached out and placed the locket in his hands. Her fingers lingered on his palm, reluctant to let go, tracing the lines of his fate.
