Daughter of the War

by Angela Roquet

  Rea dragged her robe and Armal’s apron from the water. She wrung them out before slipping through the crystal passage and stretching them on the line. Though the sun hung low in the sky, reflecting across the sea like spilled honey, the wind was still bitter. It sucked the water from Rea’s flesh and set her teeth to chattering as she pinned the garments with laundry stones. She quickly finished her task and retreated into the warmth of the cavern once more.

  By the time she reached Magora’s room, the old sister was wrapped in a fresh robe and waiting with the bowl of dark salve. She sat on the edge of her bed, chin to her chest as Rea had found her earlier that morning, though she was fully awake this time.

  “Sit, girl,” Magora said, patting the spot beside her. “Let’s take care of your back first.”

  Rea did as she was told, though she craned her neck to take inventory of the room, seeking out her dry robes and the gift Magora had mentioned. After the stolen eggs and berries, she didn’t feel as though she deserved anything more, but she supposed that was Armal’s Calling gift to her.

  Magora applied the salve to Rea’s back, and she again savored the numbing effect it had on her wounds. A bowl full of the concoction would be an exquisite gift, Rea thought, pondering other possibilities as she searched the apothecary on the crystal shelf in the corner.

  “There we are.” Magora patted a piece of gauze over the salve and then pointed to a stack of fresh robes on an overturned basket in the corner. “Not that one,” she said as Rea selected the robe on the top of the stack. “That one’s for tomorrow night. A daughter marked for greatness should be dressed properly before the Moon on the night of her Calling.”

  Rea gasped softly and held up the robe, letting it unfurl to its full length. It was bright white, as pristine as a priestess’s ritual mantle.

  “How did you get the stains out?”

  “I didn’t.” Magora cackled, and her weathered face broke into a wide grin. “It’s one I put aside for you. If anyone asks, it took hours with a boar brush.”

  Rea held the robe to her chest and breathed in the fresh scent of the wool. For weeks, she’d been dreading the idea of attending the Calling in one of her tattered, bloodstained robes.

  “Thank you, Sister Magora,” Rea said, returning to the bed to hug the woman. “You’re the only one who believes in me. I wouldn’t have made it this far without you.”

  “Hush, child,” Magora gently scolded her. “I only do what I was Called to. Save your gratitude for the Moon.”

  “I will pray long tonight.”

  “But not too long.” Magora’s milky eyes squinted at Rea. “You will want to be well rested for the Calling. The Moon will ask far more of you than prayer tomorrow evening.”

  Rea rubbed the wool of the new robe against her cheek and grinned. Pride was not something she was often allowed to enjoy. At least, not with the priestesses or Sisters of the Quill.

  She refolded the gifted robe and dressed in another from the stack before gathering up the rest. As she went to leave, she paused in the threshold of the small room and turned to look back at Magora. The old sister had already tucked herself into bed, the thin cover pulled up to her chin.

  “What is it, child?” Magora asked at the tail end of a yawn.

  “Nothing.” Rea chewed her bottom lip for a moment but then smiled. “Sleep well, Sister.”

  Magora made a soft noise in reply. Her eyes had already closed, and a gentle snore hummed through the room.

  Rea hugged her clean robes to her chest as she crept through the bathing cavern. She could ask Magora about the secret room and the staff tomorrow.

  Tonight was her last as a daughter, and she meant to end it in peaceful prayer.

  Chapter Six

  NYNA WAS NOT IN THEIR room when Rea returned to the dormitory. The hall had been full of crying and laughing girls, all bidding the eldest order goodbye. They still had the feast to come, but the sisters would be watching, and they expected the daughters to show obedient reserve in their presence.

  Rea imagined that Nyna was somewhere among those in the hall, but she did not search the crowd for her friend’s face. The only goodbye she cared to make would not be shared with an audience. Rea knew Nyna wouldn’t have wanted that either.

  Rea laid her stack of clean robes in the basket beside her bed and went to the window, resting her arms in the nook above the sill. The nearly full Moon lingered over the horizon, a pale echo of the sunrise set in a darker sky.

  Rea touched her fingertips to her brow and then folded both hands over her heart. Her mouth moved in a silent chant as she gazed out at the Mother, basking in the soft light. She repeated the prayer twice more, eyes unblinking and mind clear of all but the Moon’s blessing. When she finished, she touched her brow once again.

  Nyna had still not returned, but Rea took Magora’s advice and tucked herself into bed. Her thoughts wandered to the secret room and the staff. To Solurn. She’d never met one of the Moon’s Chosen by that name. It had an odd, foreign sound to it.

  Rea’s mind grasped at explanations, and the outline of the large, dark handprint wrapped around the staff came back to her. There was simply no way it belonged to one of the Moon’s Chosen. The object itself was much heavier than any Rea had seen the grandmothers in the flatlands use to steady their old knees.

  Rea couldn’t shake the awful feeling that the thing’s purpose had nothing to do with easing mobility. It made her even less certain that she should tell the sisters, including Magora, what she’d seen. Especially with the hidden room’s sudden disappearance whenever anyone but Rea approached.

  If a sister assumed she was lying, it would no doubt result in another lashing. But no one ever accused a priestess of lying. If the secret room and staff appeared after the Calling, she would consult with the sisters then.

  The knot in Rea’s stomach loosened, and she closed her eyes, satisfied with her decision.

  REA DID NOT DREAM OFTEN, but when she did, she experienced fragmented memories from the flatlands or the temple, familiar faces and repetitious lessons. She’d once dreamed of drowning in the sea, but that was after the incident with the daughters in the bathing cavern. And one other time, she’d dreamed of falling from a mountain peak into a dark, endless abyss.

  Harmless nightmares, Magora had called them, though she’d suggested that Rea keep tales of the images to herself. However terrifying the dreams had been, Rea considered their existence a promise of her holy future. The Moon saved her visions for the priestesses’ slumber.

  But tonight, Rea did not dream of drowning or falling.

  She dreamed of the sun.

  The blinding orb turned everything a painful gold that forced Rea to squint. When her eyes finally adjusted, she noticed the blood on her hands—far more than had stained Armal’s after slaughtering the doves. It was thick and reached to the bends of her elbows.

  There was more blood on the flat, cracked earth beneath her feet. A scorching wind blew the dirt against her ankles and up into her eyes. She twisted in a circle, searching for the mountains through the dust storm.

  Somewhere nearby, a shout sounded. More cries followed, mixed with wounded howls and the clash of metal against metal. The noise came from all directions, but Rea could see none of it through the haze.

  She didn’t know what to do or where to go. Her heart thundered in her ears, and she grew lightheaded as she continued spinning, searching for the chaos or someplace safe to hide.

  A heavy hand gripped her shoulder. She tried to scream, but another palm closed over her mouth.

  “Calm yourself,” Nyna hissed. “You’ll wake the others.”

  Rea blinked fiercely, still feeling the grit of dirt in her eyes. But then her room in the temple appeared, slowly emerging from the darkness. Nyna hovered over her, bed-worn braids hanging in a frazzled halo around her head. She waited for Rea to nod before withdrawing her hand from Rea’s mouth.

  “I had a vision,” Rea panted as she sat up in bed. Her robe
and hair were both damp with sweat.

  “Shhh.” Nyna shot a nervous glance at the dark hallway as she crossed the room, heading back to her bed. “You shouldn’t say such things. What if a sister overhears?”

  “But it’s true.” Rea rubbed her hands over her face, wiping away the sweat before it dripped into her eyes.

  The Moon had traveled farther up into the night sky, but its light still glowed dimly against the stones that lined the window. Rea climbed out of bed and crept across the room to get a better view. She wasn’t sure what she expected to find in the Mother’s face. Perhaps some small sign of validation to comfort her.

  Nyna sighed and pulled up her bedcover as she rolled onto her back. “Even if it was a vision, the sisters will only reward you for it with a lashing. Keep quiet, at least until after the Calling. I don’t want my last memory of you to be spoiled with blood and tears.”

  Rea thought of the blood in her vision and shuddered. She wondered what the Moon had meant by it. Was it a warning? But of what? Was this part of the Moon’s plan for Rea that Magora had spoken of?

  The hands that had seized her in the dream were not the delicate ones belonging to Nyna that she’d woken to. She thought of the staff again and glanced around the chamber, searching the shadowy gaps in the stone walls for any sign of the secret room. Finding none, she returned to her bed.

  If she wanted answers, she would have to seek them out in another vision.

  “Goodnight, Nyna,” she whispered, but Nyna had already drifted off. Rea tried to do the same, despite the anticipation churning in her stomach.

  Sleep eventually came to her, though visions did not, and Rea woke the morning of the Calling not knowing whether she should be relieved or ashamed that the Moon had not penetrated her dreams again. Perhaps Magora was right, and this one too had only been a nightmare.

  Nyna sat on the edge of her bed, a more pleasant expression gracing her face this time. She pressed her cool fingers against Rea’s forehead. “Your fever’s broken. Are you feeling better?”

  “Fever?” She frowned at Nyna but then remembered how sweaty she’d been after waking in the middle of the night. “I feel fine.”

  “Good.” Nyna moved her hand to Rea’s shoulder and smiled. “Happy Moon Calling.”

  “Happy Moon Calling,” Rea echoed as more conflicted emotions stirred in her chest.

  “Shall we go to breakfast?” Nyna asked.

  It was a timid offer, but Rea accepted it with an eager nod. She threw her covers back and quickly dressed in the new robe Magora had gifted her. If Nyna were going to take a chance being seen with Lyra’s strange daughter, Rea wanted to look her best.

  “Do you think you’ll come with your mother to deliver onions and potatoes before the first frost?” Rea asked as they left the room and headed for the stairs. Several daughters lingered in the hall. Some stared and whispered, but Nyna ignored them.

  “I don’t know,” she answered. “I suppose that will depend on the seed that is sown. Some can make a mother quite weak as they grow—as the Moon wills it,” Nyna added kindly.

  Rea’s brows drew together, but she nodded. “The next First Moon celebration is just so far away.”

  “Let us not waste today on sadness.” Nyna squeezed Rea’s hand, then quickly released it as they reached the main hall.

  The smell of fresh dove stock filled the temple, and daughters congregated in every doorway. Their chatter was more animated than usual. Many of them wore rosemary sprigs in their hair, and chunks of crystal on twine around their necks. Rea was just glad to be in a clean robe for a change.

  “I almost forgot.” Nyna gasped and pulled a pair of lavender stems from the pocket of her robe. She tucked one behind Rea’s ear and wove the other through one of her own braids. “There we are,” she said, dusting a stray petal from her shoulder.

  Rea’s smile made her cheeks ache. If only every morning at the temple could have been so lovely. She prayed that the rest of the day went as well and that it would not pass too quickly. It was a selfish wish, and one she had never made before, her heart set on the grander life that would follow the Calling. But with Nyna’s tender smile given so boldly before the other daughters, Rea was overwhelmed with nostalgia.

  “Come,” Nyna said. “Let’s have some breakfast.”

  The day of the Moon Calling put everyone in good spirits. The daughters enjoyed a break from their lessons. Some spent the time splashing in the bathing cavern. Others played table games in the dining hall, rattling stones and bits of crystal in their empty cups.

  After breakfast, Rea and Nyna returned to their room to strip their beds and gather up their robes and minimal possessions for their upcoming moves—Nyna to the flatlands, and Rea to the priestesses’ quarters. They shared their hopes for the future and made plans to write one another if Nyna’s seed kept her from helping to deliver the winter tithe from her mother’s garden.

  The two girls finally parted ways just before the Calling feast began so that Rea could visit Magora for a final application of salve. The wounds on her back were healing nicely, and she could even roll her shoulders without tearing open the scabs.

  After Magora had treated her, the sister shooed Rea off, instructing her to fill her belly. Magora said that the Calling would be tiring, and Rea would need her strength to get through it.

  Rea did not doubt the elder woman’s advice. She loaded her plate with some of every dish and even took a second portion of roasted rock dove for all the effort she and Armal had put into preparing them for the kitchen.

  She felt near to busting when she finished, a blissful ache taking up residence under her ribs. But as soon as her stomach settled, she went back to the dining hall for blackberry porridge and mint tea, once again taking comfort in Nyna’s company.

  The other daughters did not speak to them, but neither did they jeer or heckle. It was said that a gentle, compassionate nature found favor with the Mother. It was too bad the daughters only seemed to practice refining that nature on holy days.

  Not long after dessert, the sun set, and the Moon rose.

  Rea felt the shift in her bones rather than seeing it with her eyes. For all the whispers amongst the daughters that she was not one of them, that she did not belong, the Moon Called to her just as strongly as it Called to any of them.

  One by one, the ninth-year daughters fell in line down the main hall of the temple. The hanging sconces burned brightly, lighting their path toward the winding staircase that led to the sky basin.

  The Sisters of the Quill waited at the end of the hall in observation. They each wore their nicest robes, and they too had adorned their hair with sacred herbs and their necks with corded crystals.

  Rea spotted Sister Rashal near the base of the stairs. The woman offered her an encouraging smile, but she did not break the silence. For this was the Mother’s hour, and their voices were only to be lifted in prayer after they’d gathered beneath the Moon at the highest point along the West Ridge.

  The sky basin was a massive space, large enough to hold all the Moon’s Chosen at the same time, though it only did so once a year. Rea remembered making the long journey up the mountainside from the flatlands with her assortment of temporary mothers, only to stand in a suffocating swarm of women and girls who held little regard for her.

  But she had not come for them. She’d made the voyage for the Moon and for Lyra, whom she believed now rested in the Mother’s embrace. It was for them that she had endured nine years at the temple, and for them that she now climbed the dark stairs to be bathed in moonlight and greeted by the open air.

  Tonight, for the first time, Rea saw the whole of the sky basin. With only the temple sisters and the daughters to be Called in attendance, the arched openings cut into the circular, stone wall were taller than Rea remembered. The wind blew more fiercely, too, with fewer warm bodies to huddle behind.

  Lady Cora stood on a small dais in the center of the basin. Her white hair hung freely down her back, whipping in t
he wind, no wreathed braids to detract from the moonstone diadem cutting across her brow. The translucent gems were held together by silver filaments woven together in a band that hugged the top of her head. More were stitched into the belt over her layered robes.

  “Welcome, daughters of the Moon’s Chosen,” Cora called out over the roar of the wind. The Moon reflected in her inky eyes and painted her with its light, giving her flesh a celestial glow.

  Rea found it hard to believe that the high priestess was as old as Magora. Other than her white hair, she looked no more than forty years of age. Either being the Moon’s favorite had unexpected benefits, or being a Sister of the Hearth was more unfortunate than Rea realized.

  Rea’s eyes wandered around the perimeter of the sky basin, searching the faces of the gathered temple sisters until she found Magora and Armal. Every temple sister was present at the Calling to welcome their newest members.

  “This night, the sisters gather to bear witness to the Mother’s blessings,” Lady Cora said. “But first, let our daughters devote themselves to the Moon in sacred song.”

  On cue, the girls began chanting the hymn they’d practiced daily for the past nine years, and that they’d heard their mothers and grandmothers hum the nine years before that.

  What Rea hadn’t expected was the sudden pull of the Moon. It dragged the daughters’ feet along the stone basin, compelling them to move together, tracing a wide circle around the dais as they chanted.

  Sweat beaded over Rea’s skin, then instantly dried as the wind ripped at her robe and hair. Her throat felt raw, and her lips were chapped, but she continued singing without pause, every bit as unwavering as the other daughters.

  Lady Cora watched them with a vacant expression. Her folded hands rested under her breasts as she waited for the hymn to finish. Then she opened her arms, and the dancing stopped as suddenly as it had begun.

  “Sister Rashal will now anoint the new mothers to be seeded this night,” Lady Cora announced.