She could only assume she was no longer immortal. It would be a few years before signs of age confirmed that she had lost that Gift. Had it been worth it? She looked around the Open and nodded to herself. With her ability to fly rapidly from village to village, coupled with the healing Gift Mirar had taught her, she had prevented many hundreds of Siyee deaths during the spread of Hearteater through the country. Not all deaths, however. She could not be in two places at once, and when the plague had been at its worst there had been too many sick Siyee for her to reach.
Though the official reason for her resignation from the White - the plague in Si - had passed, she found she did not miss her former position. She was content to live out the rest of her life helping the Siyee. Juran had allowed her to remain a priestess and had even sent a priest ring and circs, brought to Si by one of two priests who had joined the pair already in the Open.
Juran was the only White who still communicated with her. She had heard nothing from the others. The gods no longer visited her either, though occasionally she had sensed something in the magic around her that suggested Chaia’s presence.
I wonder if he’s watching me. He must know whether this landwalker woman is a Pentadrian or not. I wonder if he’ll warn me if she is.
She missed his visits. Sometimes at night she longed for his touch and the sublime pleasure he had brought her when they were lovers. But that had just been sensation, not affection. What she missed most was having someone to confide in. To share her worries with.
Even if that someone is the source of the worries, she mused.
Reaching the edge of the forest, Sirri led them to her bower. It was a little larger than the average bower, allowing her to host gatherings of visiting Siyee. Once inside they sat down and began to eat the bread, fruit and nuts Sirri laid out on the table for them. After several minutes Sreil returned with the messenger, a young man he introduced as Tyve, who looked familiar.
“We’ve met before, haven’t we?” Auraya asked.
The Siyee nodded. “Yes. I was helping Dreamweaver Wilar when you came to my village last year.”
Wilar. At the name Auraya felt a shiver run down her spine and a face flashed into her memory. Wilar was the name Mirar had been using while among the Siyee.
Wilar. Mirar. Leiard. I wonder if he goes by any other names. She had been appalled to discover that the man she had learned magic and cures from as a child, whom she had loved and trusted as an adult, was actually the famous Mirar, immortal founder of the Dreamweavers. The deception had angered her at first, but she hadn’t been able to sustain her fury once he opened his mind to show her the truth about his past.
It was impossible to imagine what it had been like for him, crushed beneath a building then existing without a memory while his crippled body slowly healed over many, many years. He had invented the personality that was Leiard and suppressed his own in order to hide his true identity from the gods.
It is a miracle he survived, she thought. I can’t help admiring him for that.
By the time she had encountered him in the North River village, Mirar’s true self had regained control, but only by somehow combining with the persona of Leiard.
I’d just started to like him again when the gods ordered me to kill him.
“Do you remember?” Tyve asked tentatively.
She dragged her attention back to him. “Yes. I do. Sirri tells me you’ve met this landwalker woman before?”
He nodded. “Yes, at the same place we first met Wilar. I think they know each other.”
Auraya’s heart skipped a beat. Could this be the friend she had glimpsed in Mirar’s mind when he had opened his thoughts to her?
“What does she look like?”
“Tall, hair the color of bloodsap, but lighter. Pale skin. Green eyes.”
Auraya nodded. The woman in Mirar’s memory had red hair. “Did she give you her name?”
“Yes. Jade Dancer.”
“And what ails her?”
“She doesn’t know. Something inside her belly.”
If the woman was Mirar’s friend, why had she come to Si? Was she looking for Mirar? Had she come looking for his help only to find him gone? Auraya frowned. Is the illness real or a deception to bring me to her? Why would she want to meet me?
If the woman was Mirar’s friend, the gods probably didn’t approve of her. Are any of them listening now? She searched the magic around her but felt no sign of them. The last thing I want is the gods asking me to kill someone again. The sooner I meet this woman and send her on her way, the better.
“Will you help her?” Tyve asked. “She’s nice,” he added.
Auraya nodded. “I will.” Even if she isn’t ill, I want to know how she came to be in Si. And perhaps she’ll have news of Mirar.
Faint scraping sounds and a clink of chains echoed in the stairwell as the cage Danjin stood within moved upward. He watched as the many levels of the White Tower passed. Sometimes it felt as if the cage was still, and the Tower was moving up or down around it. At those times he wondered if Auraya had the same impression when she was “flying.” She had described her ability as moving herself in relation to the world. Did it sometimes feel as if she was moving the world in relation to herself?
The cage slowed and stopped level with a wide step in the staircase beyond. The door swivelled open, no doubt pushed with magic directed by the woman standing beside him.
He glanced at Dyara of the White, second-oldest and strongest of the Circlian leaders. Moving forward, Dyara led him out of the cage and across the staircase to a wooden door.
As she knocked, Danjin felt a twinge of apprehension. This had been Auraya’s room. He had visited it many times as her adviser. Now it belonged to her replacement, Ellareen of the White.
Being Auraya’s adviser had been a challenging task, but one made easier because he had liked and respected her. Was it too much to hope it would be the same with the newest of the White? At the same time as wondering if he would like her, he worried whether she would like him. It won’t help if I constantly compare her to Auraya, he told himself. He knew he would not be able to help himself sometimes, and she would not be able to help reading it from his mind...
The door opened. A tall, slender woman stood in the opening. Her hair had been set in an elaborate style and she was wearing a white tunic and circ of the finest-quality cloth. She looked elegant and poised, yet she was not beautiful, he noted. Not unattractive, either. She appeared to be older than Auraya, but only by a few years.
“Ellareen,” Dyara said. “This is Danjin Spear.”
“Come inside,” the new White responded, stepping back.
He watched her as she ushered them to chairs, then brought them glasses of water. His investigations had revealed that she was originally from Somrey. Her father had been employed by a wealthy trader and her family had moved to Jarime when he was chosen to manage the Hanian side of the business. Ella had joined the priesthood at twelve and eventually became a healer. She had worked at the hospice since it had opened. Something had happened at the hospice a short while before the Choosing Ceremony which had impressed the White enough to promote her to high priestess.
And she must have impressed the gods, too, because now she was a White.