by Dianna Gunn
Spring slipped by like water slipping through her fingers, a blur of training and studying and long nights wrapped in Tara’s comforting embrace.
All too soon the morning of Lai’s trial arrived. She woke well before dawn, covered in cold sweat but unable to remember anything about her dreams other than the fear still gnawing at her insides. She crawled out of bed, shivering as her sweat soaked skin met the even colder air of Tara’s bedroom.
She crossed the room as silently as she could manage. Almost all her clothes hung in Tara’s wardrobe now. She would move in officially if she completed the trial. If. Lai grabbed a pair of black breeches and a sleeveless burgundy tunic. If she couldn’t sleep she could at least be doing something.
“What’s wrong?” Tara asked.
She sighed. She had hoped to avoid this conversation. “A nightmare.”
“About the trials.”
“I can’t remember.” But she knew Tara was right. It couldn’t be anything else. “It’s almost time for me to get ready anyway.”
Blankets rustled behind her. Lai turned to see Tara getting out of bed, pale arms holding the sheet up around her to keep away the chill.
“You don’t have to get up.”
Tara took a couple steps forward, sheet still wrapped around her. Anyone else would have looked ridiculous, but somehow she managed to look graceful. “We’re in this together.”
“I have to complete the trial alone.”
“And I will be with you right up until the last moment I possibly can,” Tara said, crossing the room and grabbing a uniform from her wardrobe.
Lai sighed and turned back to her own clothes. Her hands shook as she pulled her tunic on. She had barely gotten her breeches on when Tara grabbed her waist and spun her around. Somehow Tara already had her uniform on: burgundy breeches, blouse and boots, sword in a burgundy sheath clipped to her belt.
“You’ll be the best Keeper of the Dawn of our generation,” she said, lacing her fingers between Lai’s. She sounded proud.
Lai smiled and kissed her tenderly, wondering if it would be one of their last. Suppressing a shudder, she gently pried her fingers free of Tara’s.
“I need to stretch or I’ll never even make it halfway up the mountain.” She was surprised how calm she sounded, as if she was stretching for another regular day of training.
“All right.” Tara raised her arms above her head. “Shall we begin?”
They stretched until the first light of dawn came through Tara’s small window. Tara stared at the sunlight for several moments before holding her hand out for Lai’s.
“I guess it’s time,” she said. She sounded more nervous than Lai had ever heard her.
Lai took Tara’s hand and squeezed it gently. “You’re supposed to be happy for me.”
“I am. I just wish I could go up there with you.”
“Now you know how I felt when it was your turn.”
They didn’t speak again as they strode through the maze of passages connecting Sunrise Hall to the temple, each too consumed by their own fears and doubts.
“I wish you could tell me about the ritual,” Lai said as they entered the great hall, imagining her death on the mountain for the thousandth time.
“Me too.” Tara’s voice was little louder than a whisper.
Rachael stood beside the great wooden doors leading into town. Most of the other initiates were already gathered around her. Beth grinned at Lai as she approached.
“Ready to conquer the mountain?” she asked.
Lai forced herself to grin back. “I’ve been ready for months.” It’s what happens once we’ve reached the top that scares me. At least this time if she failed she wouldn’t have to live with the shame.
The last initiate, the oldest member of this class, ran into the room and almost barreled directly into Tara. She straightened up and bowed to Rachael.
“Sorry,” she said.
Rachael cleared her throat, ignoring the apology. “Now that we are all here, let us go discover who the new Keepers of the Dawn will be.”
Tara squeezed Lai’s hand. “You can do this,” she said, giving Lai a quick kiss on the lips.
Lai wanted to pull her into an embrace and give her the deepest kiss of her life, but it was too late for that now, so she offered up a half-smile instead. “Soon I’ll be moving into your room.” She sounded much more confident than she felt.
She took a deep breath and followed the others out into the sunshine. Up ahead Rachael and Beth talked like they would on any other day. Lai didn’t even look at the others, focused on the path and her own pounding heart. I can do this, she told herself over and over again, Taelanna sent me here to do this.
Even Beth and Rachael fell quiet when they reached the stairs carved into the mountain. With over a hundred stairs and seventy feet of cliff to climb, they didn’t have extra energy for speaking. Lai usually enjoyed the quiet companionship other initiates offered during training, but today she would have given anything for one of them to start a conversation. It didn’t matter what they talked about. Anything was fine as long as it distracted her from the constant visions of her own gruesome death.
Rachael brought them to a halt when they reached the small plateau connecting the stairs to the cliff.
“In the next two days you will know pain and suffering,” she said. “But you will also know glory and honor. Rest now. Gather your strength for the task ahead.”
They sat in a circle and gulped down some of the water in their flasks. Even though they were resting, none of them spoke now either. At least one initiate died every time, and everyone had the same question in their minds: who would it be?
Lai screwed the silver cap of her flask back on and stared at the cliff. Small handholds were carved into the mountain wall, forming a just-visible path for them. Estella carved them herself so she could meditate on the highest plateau. Initiates made the climb to show their dedication to following in her footsteps.
After a few moments Rachael whistled and the other women got back on their feet.
“Let us climb,” Rachael said.
She took the lead, Beth following close behind. Lai watched Rachael’s every move as deftly made her way up the cliff way up the cliff, trying to ignore the fear building in her own chest. In training they often climbed portions of this wall, but only Rachael had ever gone all the way up. I can do this. Hopefully repeating the words often enough in her head would make it true.
Rachael was already halfway there when Beth started climbing after her, following the same route. Lai’s gaze darted back and forth between the two women, her heart pounding. All I have to do is follow the same path.
Rachael clambered over the edge and waved down to them. None of the other initiates had moved, their expressions dominated by fear.
Fear will not control me. Lai took a deep breath and started up the cliff. Her hands easily found the first few handholds, the familiar movements comforting her, giving her confidence to push onwards and upwards.
By thirty-five feet Lai had to rely on instinct instead of memory, her mind straining to keep her muscles taut, let alone remember the route up the cliff. She felt ahead carefully, arms constantly searching for the next handhold, the next movement.
At fifty feet her fingers became tendrils of fire, the pain spreading further up her arms with each movement. She bit her lip until it bled, suppressing moans of agony.
I’ve come this far. I have to keep going.
At sixty feet a great wind blew up around her, whipping through her hair, threatening to throw her off the mountain. Lai clung to the rocks, fear paralyzing her entire body. A scream pierced her eardrums and she instinctively looked down.
The initiate below screeched again, lost her grip and fell. She fell for what felt like an eternity before she hit the rocky ground, her body erupting into a pool of blood
. Lai’s stomach churned.
“Lai, keep moving,” Rachael’s voice brought her attention back to the climb. “You’re close now.”
She turned away from the body and gritted her teeth, pulling herself up to the next handhold.
Every movement brought new tears. Her whole body ached. Rachael watched from atop the cliff. Lai could see the worry lines on her forehead now. Almost there.
Three agonizing handholds later, Rachael helped her onto the plateau. Lai collapsed on the warm rock, gasping. Up here the air felt different, fresher but thinner too. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t seem to get enough air.
She stretched her aching muscles, starting with her fingers, then settled down into a cross-legged position on the plateau, facing away from the other women. If these were her last hours, she wanted to spend them alone with her thoughts, reliving every happy moment she ever had.
But every time she got halfway through a memory her mind cut away from it, showing instead the image of the initiate’s broken body bleeding on the rocks below or her own body laid out on the mountain, blood streaming from her nose and eyes. She sat up, glanced around the plateau, but the other women were lost in their own meditations so she returned to the chaos of her mind.
After a while the images grew dark, tinted by exhaustion. Lai embraced the darkness, praying for dreamless sleep.
“Lai,” a voice called. “It’s time.”
She jumped to attention, turning to the circle of women gathered around Rachael. She felt awfully groggy. I shouldn’t have let myself fall asleep.
“You have passed every human test,” Rachael said. “Now you must pass Taelanna’s test.”
She opened her satchel and produced a small box. “These seeds come from a plant called Taelanna’s Fire,” she said. “It grows only on the mountainside. The seeds connect you to our goddesses. Only those chosen by Taelanna can survive eating them.”
Lai stared at the box, wondering how those who weren’t chosen died. Let’s hope I don’t find out.
Rachael pulled the lid off the box. “Each of you will eat seven seeds, then seek a vision. Who will go first?”
Beth stepped forward. “I will.” She seemed totally calm, as if she had been born for this moment.
“So be it.” Rachael held the box out towards her. “It’s time to meet your goddesses.”
Beth took her seeds and retreated to a corner of the plateau. Lai searched each face for any sign of the fear tightening around her own heart as they stepped forward to accept their seeds but found none. Why was she so afraid?
Lai approached Rachael last, painfully aware of her heartbeat, and held her hand out. It took all her concentration to hold it steady. Rachael dropped the seeds into her open hand.
“It is time to find out if I made the right choice,” she said as the last seed fell.
“Either way I am grateful.” She bowed and retreated to the furthest corner of the plateau.
The seeds tasted awful. She grimaced and washed them down with a gulp of water, then stretched her legs along the plateau and closed her eyes, waiting for her vision. Or her death.
Lai sat completely still for what felt like hours, waiting for something to change. She forced herself to take long, slow breaths, but she couldn’t stop her mind from racing. How would she know if the seeds were going to kill her? Would she know at all? If she died, would the goddesses bring her to live with them, as legend proclaimed they did for all loyal servants?
Eventually she drifted back to sleep, cool darkness filling her mind, easing the worst of the pain.
Deep cold spread through her limbs. It weighed her down, pulled her head to the ground. The cold bit deeper and deeper into her, all the way to her bones.
She knew from the totality of the darkness that this must be a dream, but no dream had ever been so real. Even when she fought Taelanna she didn’t feel the pain this vividly.
Another test.
She thought of the lake where she fought Taelanna, the trial she failed, the night she left her people. She remembered the nights on the road, never more than half asleep thanks to a combination of cold and fear. The bitter feeling when Amber said she could not join the Keepers of the Dawn. The way Tara always believed in her, from the night she arrived. The day Rachael offered her a chance to train. When she dueled Katharine and won. Taelanna sent me here for a reason.
Bit by bit her panic fled. The darkness around her grew light, as if sunrise had begun. Warmth spread through her, making her fingers tingle. Her body felt heavy, almost impossible to move, but she pried herself off the ground and looked around anyway.
As the sky grew lighter she recognized the trees around her, the distinctive curve of the lakefront. This is where I met the gods. Only now she was alone.
Lai approached the water, gritting her teeth as she tried to ignore the pain shooting through every muscle. She collapsed at the shore. She removed her boots and stretched so her feet could dangle in the water. It washed away the pain coursing through them, leaving them cool.
A stick snapped somewhere in the underbrush behind her. She jumped to her feet, staring into the forest.
Two robed women emerged from the bushes. Both stood much taller than Lai. One was round with child. The other held a bow with an arrow already notched and ready to fire.
Lai recognized them at once. Relief flooded her body. She had been chosen after all.
“What is your purpose here?” Taelanna asked.
“To find my goddesses,” Lai said. “And the purpose you would give me.”
“And will you be happy with the path we set you on?” Ravina asked.
“Either way, I must listen.”
“Smart girl.” Taelanna lowered her bow.
“I wish only to serve.”
The goddesses exchanged glances.
“We know you will do many great things in our service,” Taelanna said. Her voice was warm, affectionate. “You never gave up.”
“Go back now.” Ravina smiled. “You have found your true path.”
Lai stared at them. Did they mean it? Had she finally found her purpose? Could she really be a Keeper of the Dawn?
“Your journey is only just beginning,” Taelanna said. “Now go, child, and rest.”
She opened her mouth to protest but the goddesses vanished, leaving her alone once more.
Everything still hurt when she woke up. Her mouth tasted dry and foul. Only Beth was already awake, a serene smile on her face as she watched the first hints of dawn appear. Even Rachael seemed to be asleep, but the older woman opened her eyes as soon as Lai rose.
“You thrashed about in your sleep,” Rachael said.
“I didn’t like the beginning of my dream,” Lai said. She sat beside Rachael and gulped down the remaining water in her flask.
“It often happens that way.”
Rachael didn’t speak again until the others had gathered around them. This year they were all survivors, except the girl who didn’t make it up the cliff. Lai shivered, pushing the bloody image out of her head for the thousandth time.
Rachael cleared her throat, bringing Lai back to reality. “You have all been chosen,” she said. She stood and drew a small silver knife from her belt. “Rise now and join your blood to mine, to the blood of all who came before us.”
She dragged the blade along her left palm, letting the blood well up. Lai cut her own left palm and stepped forward, holding her hand out towards the older Keeper of the Dawn. Rachael smiled, the first real smile she had ever given Lai, and laced her fingers through Lai’s, locking their palms together.
“Welcome, sister,” Rachael said. “It is your time to serve.”
“It is an honor to serve,” Lai said. She felt lighter, happier than she had in years, happier even than she had been in all the special moments she shared with Tara.
She had finally found her place in the world.
Chapter Sixteen
Tara stood outside Sunrise Hall, waiting among the servants who would lead the others back to their rooms. She looked like she hadn’t slept at all. Her face lit up when she saw Lai, erasing every trace of tiredness. She ran forward and threw her arms around Lai with so much force it almost knocked them both over.
“I knew you’d make it,” Tara said. “We’ve been given new chambers.”
Lai blinked. “New chambers?”
“We even have our own bath,” Tara said.
“A bath sounds perfect.”
She let Tara lead her to their new chambers, barely paying attention as they navigated through Sunrise Hall’s many corridors. She should have been overjoyed, enthusiastic to start her new life, but she only felt exhausted, eager for a long soak in hot water and an even longer sleep.
Their bath had its own chamber floored with gray tiles. A silver faucet brought a steady stream of fragrant water, filling the large tub quickly. Lai yanked off her shirt and fumbled with the button on her breeches for what felt like an eternity, her fingers still stiff from climbing.
Suddenly Tara was at her side, undoing the button, gently peeling her pants off and helping her into the tub. Lai gasped when her foot touched the water. It almost scalding, but she lowered herself in anyway. She stretched her legs out along the length of the tub, feeling the stiffness drain out of her muscles.
Tara undressed and got into the bath, holding a bar of green soap in one hand.
“I’ll start with your back,” Tara said.
Someone knocked on the door. Lai groaned. Who could possibly have a reason to bother them today? This was supposed to be their day, a day to relax before the big celebration.
Tara ignored the knock and grabbed Lai’s hand. She gently rubbed soap up Lai’s arm. Lai closed her eyes, enjoying the comforting warmth of Tara’s touch.
Another knock.
Tara put the soap in Lai’s hand and curled her fingers around it. “Stay here.” She clambered out of the tub, throwing on a black robe.