by Dianna Gunn
“You don’t need to answer tonight,” Tara said as she pulled a silver night dress out of her wardrobe.
Lai leaned back against her pillow and closed her eyes, trying to slow the jumble of thoughts and emotions racing through her. On the other side of the room Tara’s blankets rustled as her friend settled into bed. Tara clapped to dim the light charm in the ceiling.
“Good night, Lai.”
Lai propped herself up on her pillows and stared into the darkness. “Can I come as your friend?”
“Of course. And you can even change your mind.”
“Maybe I will.”
The dining room they held the initiates’ celebration in was incredibly long and equally narrow. On the north wall a tapestry showed Ravina raising her arms to pull mountains from the ground. The mountains rose halfway up the wall, gray stones tumbling down them as if they were shedding the earth they came from.
A dining table covered in a burgundy cloth and the stone benches on either side of it took up most of the room. Most of the initiates had already arrived, dressed in red or black gowns of varying styles. Interspersed between them sat a handful of men and women Lai didn’t recognize. Many were couples but only one had brought a child, a girl almost old enough to become an initiate herself—here nobody was permitted to begin the training until they turned thirteen.
The eldest Keeper of the Dawn, Rachael, sat near the head of the table. Only two seats remained empty, right beside where Katharine sat, deep in conversation with an elderly man.
Panic rose in Lai’s throat like a painful hiccup and she wanted nothing more than to bolt, but she followed Tara to the table. Full tankards and pitchers of ale had already been placed strategically along the table. She sat beside the elderly man, forcing a quick smile in Katharine’s direction.
“Congratulations,” Lai said. “I hope you do well in the final trial.” She raised her mug and opened her mouth to propose a toast, but the old man interrupted her.
“You’re the outsider, aren’t you?” he asked, his voice full of scorn.
“My name is Lai. And yes, I was born in the south.”
“No wonder you sound like an idiot. The southern language is so crude.”
She tightened her grip on her cup.
“Grandfather!” Katharine glared at the old man as if she were really admonishing a small child.
“I’m only telling the truth.”
Every muscle in her body screamed at Lai to act, to throw ale in his face, smash her glass over his head, anything to shut him up. But she couldn’t. Not here.
“I come from beyond Alanum,” she said, surprised at how quiet her own voice was. “You know nothing about my people.”
He raised one white eyebrow. “Beyond Alanum? What cursed people live in the Scarred Lands?”
“Can’t you let us celebrate in peace?” Tara asked, loud enough to turn several heads. She stood up, hands balled into fists at her side. “I will not listen to this garbage.”
Then Tara was at Lai’s side, gently prying her fingers off the tankard, leading her away by the elbow, out of the room and back towards their own. As the red receded from her vision Lai saw narrow tear tracks running down Tara’s face. Those tears are my fault. I should never have come here.
And yet when they reached their room Tara turned around and started wiping Lai’s tears away, paying no attention to her own.
“I’m sorry,” she said, sitting heavily on her bed. “We should have shown up earlier, sat near Rach-”
“I don’t want to talk about it,” Lai said. “I just want to sleep.”
“I’m still sorry,” Tara said quietly.
Chapter Twelve
All too soon Tara’s final trial came. With Amber following the initiates up the mountain, Lai had nothing to do while they were away. She tried to immerse herself in The Twins’ Tale but she couldn’t focus for more than a couple sentences at a time. She kept thinking about Tara on the mountain, performing the deadly ritual to become a Keeper of the Dawn. She imagined a new version every time, each more gruesome than the last.
If she stopped reading she found herself staring at Tara’s stuff, all piled up in one corner of the room. In the morning servants would come to take her things away. If she succeeded, they would go to her new room in Sunrise Hall. If she failed, they would go to the temple vault to be given to whoever needed them next. Lai might get her copy of The Twins’ Tale. She shivered. She would hate nothing more. I can’t do this without Tara, not any of it.
She was still awake when the servants came for Tara’s things. She jumped out of her bed the moment they entered the room, heart pounding.
“Did she make it back?” she asked, forcing herself to speak slowly so they would understand.
“She is resting in Sunrise Hall,” the older servant said.
She kept talking but Lai didn’t hear her. She collapsed back into bed, body light with relief. Finally she managed to fall asleep.
Lai woke to find all of Tara’s things gone, even the bed and the dresser. She rubbed the sleep out of her eyes and blinked several times, making sure the empty space was real. She had mentioned not wanting a new roommate to Amber, but she hadn’t expected her to listen.
Someone knocked on the door as she pulled a black tunic down over her head. Could Tara already have come to visit her? Her heart soared as she bounded across the room. She hadn’t expected to see Tara before the festival.
An older male servant stood on the other side of the door, his weather beaten face quite serious. Lai’s heart plummeted.
“Amber wants to see you,” he said, his tone completely neutral.
Why now? “I’ll go as soon as I’m dressed.”
She slammed the door in his face before he could respond and grabbed her boots, shoving her feet into them without thinking about socks. Good or bad, if Amber wanted to see her it was important.
Nothing in the office had changed. Even the incense burning on the altar was the same scent Lai remembered from her first visit here. Only Amber herself had changed, the last hints of red fading from her hair.
“I’m giving you a new assignment,” Amber said. “You will clean my chamber and office. These duties will give you time to deepen your studies.”
And an opportunity to earn your trust. “Thank you.”
Amber smiled briefly. “I also have something for you.” She reached under her desk and pulled out a copy of The Twins’ Tale, bound with dark green cloth. “Most of my people own few books, but every adult has a copy of this one.”
Lai took it gingerly and stared at it. The book was beautiful, bound in green cloth with its title embroidered in magnificent silver script, but it was more than that. It was a symbol. It meant she belonged here now.
She thanked Amber and hurried away to tell Tara, only to find herself staring at the empty side of her room again. She cursed herself. Tara was probably still asleep in her new room, recovering from the trial. I should be there with her.
The morning of the festival a servant brought Lai a beautiful black dress with flames carefully embroidered on one side and a long slit on the other. She preferred breeches but she knew Tara would love it so she carefully pulled it on, terrified of ripping it.
At noon the people gathered behind the temple. A giant stage stood in front of Sunrise Hall, tall enough to stand over the crowd and wide enough to hold several people at once.
The ceremony began with a duel between two Keepers of the Dawn, one clearly much older than the other. They fought for a long time, moving as gracefully as dancers. The younger woman eventually punched her opponent in the wrist and sent the older woman’s sword flying. It landed a few feet away from the crowd.
There was a moment of silence as the women drew apart and bowed for the crowd, then the people started cheering. They cheered until the women disappeared off the stage entirely.
When silence fell, Rachael, the eldest Keeper of the Dawn, and Amber led the new Keepers of the Dawn onto the stage. The younger women wore matching burgundy dresses with long sleeves that almost touched the ground. Ruby hairnets glimmered in their hair.
After a long moment of tense quiet they raised their heads so the crowd could see who survived the trials. Tara had never seemed as magnificent as she did now, her dress trailing down around her like fire, rubies glowing in her already red hair. She was so beautiful Lai couldn’t bring herself to look away, not even when Rachael spoke.
“It is time to welcome two more sisters to the ranks of the Keepers of the Dawn,” Rachael said. “Time to celebrate these women, who are the best, the brightest, the strongest among us.”
Tara and Katharine raised their swords to the sky and the crowd cheered again, this time growing louder until it made Lai’s head throb. Only then did Rachael raise her hands to the sky. The people fell silent almost at once.
“Tonight,” Rachael said, “as you dance around the fire, remember to also honor those who didn’t survive. They gave their lives for the goddesses. There is no higher calling.” She paused to take a deep breath. “Now, my friends, let the celebrations begin!”
The crowd cheered as Rachael and Amber led the new Keepers of the Dawn back off the stage. Lai pushed her way towards them, yelling apologies as she went. Everybody else was heading to the feast, but she wanted to find Tara first. And tell her I can’t live without her. The last two days had proven that.
She found her and Katharine together by the stage. Older Keepers of the Dawn stood clustered around them.
Tara caught Lai’s gaze and set her tankard down before she hurried away from Katharine, closing the distance between them in moments.
Lai threw her arms around Tara, embracing her as if she might never get another chance. After a moment Tara returned her embrace.
“I want to be with you,” Lai said. “I still want to see you every day, spend time with you, listen to you read—”
Tara put a finger to her lips. “I’d like that.” She planted a quick kiss on Lai’s cheek, close enough to touch the edge of her mouth. “Now, I believe they’re having a celebration in my honor. It would be a shame to miss another moment.”
Lai grinned, her heart soaring higher than it had in years. I really do have a future here.
Chapter Thirteen
For the first time since her arrival Lai was truly happy in Taurim. At night she often followed Tara into Sunrise Hall—Tara’s bed was twice the size of hers—and spent the night sitting in bed with her. They took turns reading to each other until one of them fell asleep, usually Tara, exhausted from learning how to forge Dawnsinger Steel.
At first the other Keepers of the Dawn gave her dirty looks when she followed Tara into Sunrise Hall, but after a while they got used to her. All but Katharine, who glared at them every time she had a chance.
It was an early winter night when Tara burst into the room with so much excitement that she almost tore the door off its hinges.
“I’ve got something to show you,” she said.
Lai tilted her head to one side and raised a single eyebrow. She hadn’t seen Tara this excited since the first night they spent together.
“Well? Come on.” Tara opened the door as wide as it would go.
She sighed but got up anyway, slipping a feather into her book to keep the page. “You know I don’t like surprises as much as you do, right?”
Tara laughed. “You’ll love this one.”
She grabbed Lai’s hand and pranced away from their room, towards the back of Sunrise Hall where Keepers of the Dawn performed their rituals.
Lai’s heart beat faster with every step they took. Tara couldn’t have possibly gotten permission to show her a ritual room. Not even initiates were permitted in those rooms.
They reached the back wall and Tara opened a thick stone door, pulling Lai through.
Lai gasped, unable to believe the sheer size of the room before her. The far wall was made of bright red stone and curved away from them, as if it was part of the mountain itself. Three massive blacksmithing hearths were built into the wall, their fires done burning for the day. Two anvils sat in front of each hearth.
But what amazed her most was the energy, the way this place seemed to hum, like it was alive, filled with the power of her goddesses. In all her travels Lai had never felt as connected to the world as she did in this room.
“You do like it, right?” Tara asked, tugging her hand free.
“I-I do.” She liked it so much she had almost forgotten Tara was here. The Twins’ Tale included several stories about the forge, but none came remotely close to describing its magnificence.
“You haven’t seen anything yet.”
Tara raised her arms until her hands were level with her shoulders and stretched her fingers, her palms facing each other. She closed her eyes and hummed a single low note.
A tiny ball of white light appeared between her palms. Tara raised her voice and the ball grew larger, filling the space between her fingers. She opened her eyes and grinned at the light.
Lai stared at it, mouth agape. Tara had never shown even the slightest magical talent before.
“The goddesses’ power is stronger here than anywhere else,” Tara said, her voice strained. “It’s how we can still enchant Dawnsinger Steel, and how I can do this. We make all the lights here.”
“It’s beautiful,” Lai said.
“Thanks.” Tara closed her hands and the light vanished. “Shall we look at the blades?”
“Actually, I—” Lai shifted her weight from one foot to the other. “I want to show you something too.”
Tara raised a single eyebrow. “You don’t want to look at the weapons?”
Lai gazed longingly at the shelves of weapons lining the nearest wall. She did want to see them, to feel the power of Dawnsinger Steel in her hands, even if only for a moment.
But Tara had shown her one of Taurim’s deepest secrets. Lai owed Tara a secret of her own.
“I’ll have plenty of time to see them when I’m a Keeper of the Dawn.” Lai tried to sound confident, as if she still believed she really could join the order.
Tara, on the other hand, had no doubts. “Then lead the way.”
Lai flashed Tara a brief smile and led her away from the forge, back towards Tara’s room. She couldn’t risk anyone else seeing her gifts. She didn’t want to give them any more reasons to hate her.
Tara pulled her to a halt in the doorway. Her lips twitched, as if she was trying to suppress a grin.
“If you wanted to go to bed, you could have just said so,” she said. “And there are a few things I could show you.”
Heat rushed to Lai’s cheeks. “It’s not about the bed.”
She kissed Tara’s hand and dropped it. She sat in the center of the floor and crossed her legs.
“This is one of the first things we learn to do back home,” she said, ignoring the way her voice shook.
She cupped her hands together and closed her eyes, bringing familiar images of fire to mind.
Tara gasped and Lai opened her eyes. A ball of flame danced merrily between her palms.
“How can you do that so far from the forge?” Tara asked, her voice filled with awe. “Can all your people do that?”
Lai shook her head. “Only the women, and not all of us.”
“Can you do more?”
She watched her hands as she spoke, afraid to see Tara’s expression. “Some healing. I would have learned more as a priestess.” She paused and ran a hand through her hair. “I was told to hide my gifts when I came north. I wanted to show you, but nobody does magic here. I thought you’d fear me.”
Tara frowned. “I’m not afraid of you, but others might be. There hasn’t been anyone in Taurim with gifts like yours
for centuries. Our magic is all dependant on the forge. We probably shouldn’t tell anyone, at least until they trust you more.”
“I was afraid you’d say that,” Lai said. “At least now I don’t have to hide it from you.”
On the second anniversary of her arrival, Amber summoned Lai to her office after breakfast. Lai found her deep in conversation with Rachael. Both women smiled at her, but Rachael’s smile didn’t reach her eyes.
Lai’s whole body tensed. She hadn’t done anything wrong, hadn’t even spoken to anyone other than Tara in a few days, but Rachael had to be unhappy for a reason.
“You summoned me?” she asked, trying to keep her voice steady.
Amber nodded. “I wanted to introduce you two. Rachael, this is Lai. Lai, I believe you know who Rachael is?”
“I do.”
Rachael cleared her throat. “Amber has convinced me to let Taelanna decide whether or not you can become a Keeper of the Dawn.”
“Really?” After all this time she had all but given up.
“If you are still interested, knowing that failure means death.”
“The Goddesses sent me here for a reason.” Dying would likely be better than be forced to live with a second failure anyway.
“Then you’ll begin training in the great hall tomorrow morning.”
Lai ignored the bitterness in Rachael’s tone and bowed so deeply her nose almost touched Amber’s desk. “I’ll be there at dawn.”
She actually arrived before dawn. Rachael and one other initiate stood together near the temple’s entrance, deep in conversation. The initiate was clearly barely old enough to start training. The same age Lai had been when she took the trials back home. Her heart twisted painfully in her chest at the thought.
“Alanum has a new king,” Rachael said. “A messenger has come to ask when he may meet with us and find out if he is worthy of our blades.”
Rachael caught sight of Lai and smiled, this time a real smile. “Lai, this is Beth,” she said. “Today is her first day too.”