by Kyle West
“You don’t believe her, Deanna?” Isa asked. “I think it’s wonderful.”
“You haven’t been around long enough,” Aela said. “We started when Fiona was still an apprentice. A lot of her prophecies turned out to be duds.”
“But she was away all this time,” Isa said. “For some reason, I just think it’s real.”
“To make it seem more legitimate, perhaps?” Deanna said.
“Come on,” I said. “Prophecies are real. Just because they don’t happen often doesn’t mean they don’t happen at all.”
“Here two days and an expert on the subject,” Deanna said. “Can you name one instance where a prophecy accurately predicted something where a good guess wouldn’t have sufficed? And even then, could you prove that it wasn’t just luck?”
“Mia Farl,” I said.
Deanna and Aela looked at each other. Neither had heard the name.
“What did she do?” Deanna asked.
“She accurately predicted the downfall of Hyperborea at a time where no one could. You can look it up yourself.”
“That doesn’t prove anything, even if she was real,” Deanna said. “Some people don’t even think the city was real, and even if it was, it was just a lucky guess. All countries are bound to fall, someday.”
I wasn’t sure how to respond to that, because it was a good point. “Maybe it was more specific than that.”
“Who told you that, anyway?” Aela asked. “That’s not something initiates would usually know.”
“Isaru and I met with Elder Isandru today. He told me about it.”
“Ah,” Deanna said. “It all becomes clear. Isandru is a good man, don’t get me wrong. But at the same time, you should take what he says with a grain of salt. He’s had his own share of failed prophecies. His most famous – or infamous, if you prefer – is that Annara would return before the last Prince of Hyperborea died, the very same Hyperborea that doesn’t exist, that was supposed to have fallen in the early Third Century.” She chuckled. “Either Annara returned one hundred and fifty years ago with no one noticing, or the last Prince of Hyperborea is still alive, and both of these are impossibilities. That means his prophecy is false. That would be fine, if he just recognized it, but apparently he still holds that it’s true.”
“I forgot about that,” Aela said. “Just one of his many eccentricities.”
“That’s not even all of it, though,” Deanna said. “Some of his are too wild to even be believed. You need second-floor clearance, though, and I imagine the crazier ones aren’t even on the second floor, but locked up in his office. No one goes in there except those who he’s trying to train.”
“That would be Isaru and me, I guess,” I said.
“Listen,” Deanna said. “Maybe next time you meet with him, you can ask him about them. If that doesn’t change your mind, I don’t think anything will.”
“Why not ask him yourself?”
“Because I don’t have access to his office, for one. Besides, he’s pretty guarded around non-Prophets, or those he sees as not having the potential. If you ever tell him the Prophets aren’t for you, I can guarantee he’ll grow cold, fast.”
“What do you care, anyway?” I knew I was getting a bit defensive, but I didn’t like how Deanna and Aela were taking shots at him. Their tone suggested that it was common for initiates and apprentices to do this. Perhaps it was even common for Seekers to do it.
“He’s already getting to her,” Aela said.
“Seriously,” I said. “You should have more respect for him. He’s an Elder.”
“He sees you and Isaru as a means to legitimize his Sect,” Deanna said. “Everyone here knows the potential you two have. Some are even saying you have the ability to train in all Twelve Gifts. I don’t believe that for a second, because no one has all Twelve. If you think Isandru is bad, just wait until the other Elders start to get their words in.”
Isa looked from me to Deanna, clearly uncomfortable with the tension. But I wasn’t going to back down.
“I know I’m just an initiate, and I know this is only my second day here,” I said. “But you don’t know what the hell you’re talking about.”
With that, I took my plate, got up, and went to the boys’ table.
“You’ll see,” Deanna called. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see that she wasn’t offended at all by my leaving. Just amused, as if I were a child who had tried to throw a punch at her. That just made me angrier.
I sat down next to Ret in a huff, making sure to buffer myself from the girls with two or three other people. At seeing my face, Ret cracked a smile.
“Say what you want about men,” Ret said, “but I contend, as I always have, that girls are truly the vicious ones.”
“Ret, I am in no mood.”
“What was that all about?” Isaru asked, taking a bite of food.
“You heard us?” I asked.
“Yeah,” Ret said. “I didn’t realize you were so...passionate. I’m seeing you in a whole new light.”
“Thanks,” I said. “I think.” I looked back at Isaru. “They were disrespecting Elder Isandru.”
“Ah,” he said. He didn’t ask why.
Thankfully, no one said anything more as I ate the rest of my meal in silence. From time to time, I glanced at the girls’ table. None of them paid me any mind, except Isa, who appeared to be conflicted about my leaving.
Isaru told the story about how he’d gotten the second-floor library pass from Judge Kais, while Ret said that something was wrong with Isaru if he was excited about getting a library pass. Samal was sitting on Ret’s other side, talking with some other male initiates.
At the front of the Great Hall, it seemed as if the expedition was at last getting up to leave. After what Deanna had said, I was again having doubts about whether my dream had actually been a prophecy. I had been under a lot of stress lately, after all. All the same, I still felt as if I needed to tell someone.
The only person here who would be willing to listen to me was Isaru, but I had to wait until after dinner.
“Initiates.”
Conversation was cut short as everyone turned to face Apprentice Martin, who stood tall and self-importantly behind us.
“Your work assignments begin tonight. After dinner, you are to bus your dishes and report to Apprentice Roland in the kitchens. He’ll show you what to do.”
Martin spun on his heels, his apprentice’s robe swirling dramatically.
“A lot of gall, that one,” Samal said.
“It was bound to happen, anyway,” Nabea said, looking at his hands. “I’ve never had to wash a dish before.”
“Worried about those soft hands?” Samal laughed. “The girls’ table is over there, princeling.”
“In Atlantea, the nobles are not permitted any manual labor. Only noble arts, such as swordplay, horseback riding, and creative pursuits.”
“Leave the peasants to do the dirty work, eh?” Samal said. “At least that’s one thing I can do better than you. Soon, you’ll see what you’ve been missing out on.”
“I’m afraid I haven’t missed much,” Nabea said.
“As far as me,” Ret said, “my nobility never precluded me from having to do mundane work.”
“Neither of you spoiled brats know the meaning of hard work,” Samal said. “Why do you think so few nobles ever become Seekers? That goes for Isaru, too. You’ve had your entire lives to play while the rest of us worked in the sun. Peasants toil, but nobles spoil.” He looked to me for support. “Isn’t that right, Shanti?”
“I wouldn’t know,” I said.
Samal waved my comment away. “She’s just being polite. Look at her hands. They aren’t the hands of a noble lady.”
I resisted the impulse to hide my hands, but I wasn’t going to do something just because Samal was getting on my nerves. He was right, though. My life had been rather easy until the Novan War started. For the last few years, my mother and I worked almost every day in the Covenant
’s fields. It was hard, back-breaking labor, especially for someone who wasn’t born to it.
My eyes went to the front of the Hall to see that Isandru had returned from the clinic. Seekers rose from the tables, apparently ready to set off after the delay caused by Fiona’s return. The Great Hall once again grew silent. Once the Seekers had gathered, wearing clothes for travel and all of them armed with swords, they left through the open doors and into the dusk of the Grove. I wondered where they would be getting all their supplies for the trip, until I assumed that they would be passing through Nava Village on their way.
Once they’d gotten outside, the front doors were shut, echoing throughout the Hall.
A moment of silence lingered before everyone began bussing their dishes. Once I’d put mine up, I headed to the kitchen with the rest of the initiates.
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
WHEN WE ENTERED, I WASN’T prepared for the heat. The large wooden stovetops were still burning, heating up water for cleaning. Dirty pots and pans had been piled on the kitchen’s other side, and still more were being added. About eight or so initiates – probably the dinner crew – were bustling to finish their work as quickly as possible.
No sooner had I taken in my surroundings than we were approached by a tall, thickly muscled apprentice who bore several long scars on his pockmarked face. His eyes were dark, and there was no humor in them. I hadn’t seen him yet, maybe because he spent a lot of time in here. Even Isaru seemed a bit taken aback by the apprentice’s size and obvious strength.
“I’m Roland,” he said, in a deep baritone. “I manage the kitchen. Follow me, and I’ll give you your assignments.”
Roland wove his way through the kitchen, and we followed without a word. Busy workers dashed out of his way, as if they were mice about to be trampled by an elephant. Clearly, Roland wasn’t a man to be crossed, and it wasn’t hard to see why. If he wanted, he could have clobbered anyone here right into the ground. Despite that, there was gentleness to the way he moved, as if he were conscious of his size and took great care not to overwhelm anyone. This only slightly dampened the effect his presence had.
He stopped before two large basins filled with steaming water, one of which had suds, and the other of which was clear. He pointed nearby to a large pile of dirty pots, pans, and dishes.
“You are to clean these,” he said. He reached for one of the pots. “First, throw out any remaining food.” He took his hand, wiping it on the bottom of the pot and picking out whatever gunk was left in it, nonchalantly tossing it into a nearby sack that lined a barrel. Nabea watched, horrified, but already Roland was dipping the pot into the soapy water. “Wash like so, with the scrubber. It’ll be hot, but you’ll get used to it after a couple of weeks. Make sure it’s very clean. Then, transfer to the second basin.” Roland put the pot into the clear, hot water, brushing out any remaining suds before dipping it in. “Not a trace of food left. Then, dry using one of these towels.” He tossed a towel to Isaru. “It’s the dryer’s duty to make sure no food remains on the dish, and that it’s as clean as possible. If it’s not, the dryer catches hell.” He nodded. “Right. Get started.”
“Who does what?” Ret asked.
“I’m your boss, not your mother,” Roland said. “I trust you can figure out who does what. Most initiates devise a rotation system. I suggest you do the same.”
With that, Roland turned to leave, setting about on other tasks.
“I can wash,” Nabea said. “Soap or no.”
“You just don’t want to get your hands dirty with the scooping,” Samal said. “No worries. That’s a job for a peasant like me.”
“Why do you call yourself such?” Nabea asked, picking up a dish that looked mostly clean already, dipping it in. He winced. “That’s hot!”
Samal chuckled, sliding off the unfinished food on the plate he was holding into the garbage. “Bet you wish you were scooping now, eh?”
I took a station at the basin of clear water. Nabea was right; it was hot. This water had probably been taken off the fires not five minutes ago, and from that heat, the air was sweltering. Already I was bathed in a light sweat. The door in the back was open to the night, but it did little to mitigate the heat. I couldn’t imagine how hot it would be in the middle of cooking, though something told me I’d one day find out.
We worked in silence, handing the dishes off from one to the other. As Isaru dried, he painstakingly checked to make sure each dish was immaculate before adding it to the clean pile. Roland came back by to check our work.
“Not bad,” he said. “But too slow.”
“We’re going as fast as we can,” Ret said.
Roland grunted. “Quality before speed.”
Roland walked away, and it wasn’t long before I could see that was right. The pile of dirty dishes was growing faster than we could wash them. Isaru, even if he had the easiest job, was taking the longest time, spending far too long making sure each plate was clean. Worse, he would send some dishes back to the to-be-washed stack that looked clean enough to me. Most of the time, there was nothing on them. The third time he did this, Nabea shook his head.
“I’m not washing another one of yours, Isaru. There’s nothing wrong with this.”
“There’s still a speck here,” Isaru said. “See?”
“Who cares?” Nabea asked. “We’re already behind, and if Roland makes an issue of it, you can point him to me.”
Isaru didn’t argue. Things were still slow, but not like they were before. Now, I was the slow one, because I had to hold my hands out of the water from time to time for them to cool off. Nabea, I noticed, was doing the same.
Roland swung by again, checking a few of Isaru’s dishes.
“There’s a bit of food on this one,” Roland said, in almost a growl.
Everyone exchanged glances, as if in disbelief.
Nabea was the one to speak. “It’s still clean, though.”
“You were doing good work before,” Roland said. “But all of these will have to be redone. Remember: not a spot. Dry it completely. And most of all, no food.”
Roland went away again. I sighed as Isaru passed back his dishes without a word.
We worked for the next hour, until every last dish was clean and spotless. Roland showed us what to do with the dirty basins, and we dumped the contents in a large sink. Then, we had to clean the basins and make sure they were spotless, and then we had to mop the floor around the area where we had cleaned, until it was spotless. We thought we were done then, but no, we had to help all the others clean up. Roland had us clean in between the counters for every speck of food that had fallen during preparation. We had to clean the stovetops as well. The four of us were still working by the time everyone else had been dismissed.
During the work, no one spoke much, and my thoughts turned to the dream I’d had. I tried to push it from my mind, but for some reason, the words the voice told me stuck like glue.
Go north. Go now.
If I was supposed to take that voice seriously, then cleaning the kitchen was the last thing I should have been doing.
Three hours after dinner, what had once been a scene of chaos and squalor was now neat and ordered. I was sweating all over, even though the kitchen was much cooler than it had been before.
We went to Roland, not even bothering to ask if we were finished. Anytime we asked, he just gave us something else to do. It seemed as if he was using us to get all the things he’d been meaning to get done finished tonight, either that or showing us who was boss.
“Is there anything else we can do, Apprentice Roland?” I asked.
He looked at me, then at the rest of us, before slowly shaking his head. “No. You’re done for the night. You’re to come back tomorrow, and every day after that.” He paused. “You’re my new cleanup crew.”
My heart fell at that. I couldn’t imagine doing this for three hours every night. Perhaps once we’d gotten better, we could knock that time down.
We left, each he
ading back to our dorms, completely exhausted. As we passed the library, though, Isaru broke off. The others didn’t seem to notice, continuing on to their rooms.
“Isaru,” I said.
He looked at me, his eyes tired.
“When we came back from Isandru’s...” I checked behind me. The others had made it to the stairs. “I had a dream.”
“Again?” he asked, becoming more alert. “About what?”
“I wanted to tell Isandru about it, but with Fiona coming in...” I sighed. “I don’t know what’s happening to me. It seemed so real this time. You know how Isandru talked about a call and an answer?”
Isandru nodded, appearing more alert now. “Yes. What about it?”
“If this is real, then I think it means I might have gotten a call. I heard a voice, the same one as last time.”
“What did it say?”
“It seems too ridiculous. It said to go north. To go now.”
Isaru frowned. “Go north. Where?”
“Where do you think?” I asked. “What’s north of us, right now?”
Isaru’s eyes widened. “You can’t possibly mean...the reversion?”
“Think about it,” I said. “Remember what Isandru was saying, about how the Xenofold weakens at the point of a reversion? Sage Barrat said the same thing during the crisis session. What if this weakness is what’s allowing this voice to reach me? What if this is real?”
“What are you saying, Shanti? That you’re going to the reversion, and that you’re going now? That’s just crazy.”
“But why would I dream it? If it is a prophecy, isn’t it my duty to obey it?”
“No,” Isaru said. “For one thing, it’s dangerous. Second of all, there’s no way you’re getting out of the Sanctum. It’s completely walled, and the gates are closed at night.”
I hesitated, not believing that I was about to say this. “It’s not completely walled.”
It took Isaru a moment to see what I was talking about, and from the way his face blanched, I knew he really thought I was talking crazy.
“Only Seekers can pass the Arch,” he said.