Carefully, the girl disentangled herself from the mesh and settled into the water. She then swam around to the end of the pier and found a partial ladder that she could use to climb up onto the surface of the platform. Once she was out of the water, she surveyed herself and discovered that she was missing one boot and that her left sleeve was torn almost completely off. Other than that, she seemed to be intact, though her head began to pound as she moved around. She cast one last look down into the water and thought she might barely be able to make out an elongated form, like that of a rolled up carpet, perhaps a dozen feet below the surface. The imagery made her shudder, and she was just about to turn away, when she saw a glint of movement.
She knelt down and stared, certain that she had seen a figure moving through the shallows beneath the pier, a slender and graceful form that was more human than fish. But there was nothing there when she looked again, though she remained there for several moments more. Wondering if she had imagined it, Emriana rose to her feet again and tried to figure out where she was.
In doing so, she failed to notice a head break the surface for a brief moment, with delicate features that were angular and tinted blue. Those features watched the girl stagger away for a step or two; then the head vanished beneath the surface once more.
It did not take Emriana long to navigate her way off the pier and onto dry land and before much longer, she began to see where she was. The section of Arrabar where she and Xaphira had ventured the night before was nearby, and even in the daylight, the girl thought better than to pass through there alone, especially in her condition. She knew she looked a sight, and she doubted she could put up much of a struggle should anyone decide to accost her. Even with the circuitous route she chose to follow, she drew more than a few strange looks from the early-morning shoppers and strollers who were out and about.
As she struggled up the hills upon which Arrabar had been built, working her way slowly from the dock area to the nicer part of town, Emriana tried to consider everything that had happened. Remembering that Xaphira had disappeared worried her greatly, and she pulled her pendant out and tried to contact her aunt again.
Again there was no reply for her efforts.
The thought that Aunt Xaphira was already dead nearly made the girl drop to her knees in the middle of the street, but she resisted the weakness in her legs and pushed on, determined to return home and let everyone know what had happened. She imagined what her mother would say about her wandering in after being out all night, but truthfully, Emriana did not care. Grandmother Hetta was who she needed to speak to right then, and the quicker she got home, the quicker they could begin to figure out how to find and save Xaphira. But as she walked, the pain in her head grew worse, and Emriana felt herself on the verge of passing out more than once. She didn't think she could make the journey all the way back home as woozy as she felt.
The temple, she decided, massaging her skull. It's closer than home, and some of Vambran's or Uncle Kovrim's friends will help me.
As Emriana entered the temple district and drew near the Temple of Waukeen, she saw that a crowd had gathered. She limped closer, reaching the fringes of the throng, and began to try to find a way through the people, hoping she could find a priest she knew. As polite and patient as she tried to be, though, everyone around her gave her cold or contemptuous stares.
Finally, a hawk-nosed woman with severe, beady eyes elbowed the girl, pushing her back a step.
"Know your place, girl," the woman said. "We all want a better look at the new high priest, but this is as close as any of us are going to get, so stop shoving."
The meaning of the woman's words hit her fully. "The new high priest?" she asked. "What happened to Grand Syndar Midelli?"
The hawk-nosed woman gave her a baleful stare. "Haven't you heard?" she snapped. "The Grand Syndar is dead."
"Dead?" she repeated, stunned.
The woman nodded and sniffed. "Aye, he passed last night, they say, though he had been ill for more than that, they say."
Emriana felt the ground tilting beneath her feet as the news sank in. She wondered if everyone at home knew, yet. "Have they named a successor?"
"Where have you been hiding, child?" the woman asked, shaking her head in consternation. "What do you think we're all doing here? They're about to announce it now." With a final shake of her head, the unpleasant woman turned away, refocusing her attention toward the front of the temple.
At that moment, a hush fell over the crowd, followed by an excited murmur as a line of high priests began to file out the front doors of the temple and onto the steps. They were all dressed in their most lavish finery, and they took up positions in rows along the steps, creating a dazzling display of the finest white cloth, sparkling gems of amber and ruby, and plenty of polished gold. The last priest to appear, dressed most magnificently of all and wearing a miter upon his head, waddled in a familiar way due to his considerable girth.
Grand Trabbar Lavant.
Oh, Waukeen, Emriana thought, sitting down right in the plaza. Not this. Not now.
The girl had to draw several deep, slow breaths to gain her equilibrium back. Lavant was the new Grand Syndar of the entire temple. It didn't seem possible for the news to get any worse. She had to let the family know, but first, she needed desperately to find someone, anyone, within the temple who could help her. Otherwise, she would never make it back to the estate.
"Please excuse me," Emriana said, trying once more to weave her way through the crowd.
"I told you to know your place, girl," the hawk-nosed woman said, shoving Emriana back once more. "Now stop pushing."
"But I want to go inside," the girl said, not understanding why they were being so rude to her. "I didn't mean to shove."
"Inside?" the woman said incredulously. "Looking and smelling like that?" Then the woman began to laugh, a high-pitched cackling that was harsh to Emriana's ears. Several other people gathered about joined in. "You know the Waukeenars don't let street waifs like you in their midst. You've got to have coin to spend in order to walk the golden halls." The harsh woman shook her head bemusedly. "Inside," she chuckled, turning away again.
As Emriana looked down at her bedraggled appearance, she felt tears beginning to well up. Her clothes were ruined, torn in several places. They were soiled with odiferous gunk from the alley the previous evening. Her hair, normally so shiny black, hung limply and smelled of rotting fish. She realized just how badly she smelled by the way the people around her gave her a step or two of clearance. No one was going to believe she was Arrabaran nobility looking like that. But the only way to prove otherwise was to either clean herself up or find someone who knew and could vouch for her, neither of which she could do in her condition.
Feeling defeated, Emriana staggered to one side of the plaza and sank down in the shade of a vender's awning, too tired to even look at what he was selling.
The man who owned the cart, a fat fellow with black, bushy hair and huge, flaring mustaches, eyed her curiously then began to frown. "You can't sit there," he said, shaking a single pudgy finger in her direction. "You'll drive away the paying customers."
Emriana nodded and dug out her coin purse, surprised to find it still tucked in a sash at her waist. "Water," she said, her voice little more than a croak, handing the man a silver coin. "Please," she added, hoping her politeness would smooth things over for the fellow.