He clicked his teeth and twitched the reins. "Come on, then. Let's go visit Sarai."
Suki happily obeyed, for the priestesses in the Temple Bestiary were kind to animals, and several dedicated to Cayusee. The mare could be sure of a treat and warm stall.
Entering the gate of the Temple Complex was like entering another world. Outside the streets of Atherton were covered in snow that had already turned to a muddy slush; the sky was gray, all greenery leached from the world around. The Temple Gardens, while still covered in snow, looked pristine and still alive. Jules had no idea how the Order did it.
It was quiet, too, beyond the high white walls, unlike the noise of the busy city streets, for even on cold Midwinter Day, Atherton bustled with activity. The driveway that led to the main building and the Bestiary off to the side was cleared of snow and clean as a dirt path could be. Already a young woman was walking out to meet him, a smile on her tranquil face.
Suki stopped in front of her and Jules dismounted, bowing deeply before the priestess. She nodded in acceptance of his deference.
"Chief Medical Officer Jules," she said, a light query in her tone. He nodded, unsurprised. He and Sarai both had the look of their mother, and he had visited a few times in the past. The priestesses would know of him, at least. "Is your mount in need of attention?" the priestess continued, and Jules shook his head. Suki snorted.
"Well, nothing past a warm stall and mayhap a treat or two while I visit my sister, Dama Priestess," he said with the smile he'd heard was charming.
Her eyes twinkled now as she took the reins from him. "Of course." She waved to the main building. "They'll be better able to direct you in there," she said, and he bowed again. The priestess walked off with Suki, who practically danced with excitement.
The main building of the Complex, the Temple itself, was tall and imposing, though it looked carved from starlight. The history books Jules had studied in Atton's L'escuela said that it had been built in the First Age, then nearly destroyed at the beginning of the Second Age and rebuilt. The same thing had happened at the end of the Second Age. He wondered if it was the destruction of the temple that heralded the end of an Age, or vice versa.
This current incarnation of the temple still carried the wonders of Second Age architecture, and so the multiple carvings that adorned its facades did not weigh it down, but lightened it, so it seemed to float on air. It was multicoloured and twinkled, the faces of Goddesses and figures from myth looking down at the medic as he ascended the stairs out front. A sense of awe descended over him, as always when he came to the Temple.
Had it been the same for Sarai, the first time? He was sure she had to be used to it by now, having resided here for twenty-four years. And she's the strongest of us, he thought with a smile as he entered the warm building. Surely Big Sister is not so cowed as her brothers may be. Though he didn't think Nathaniel had ever actually made it to the Atherton Temple.
There was a desk in the foyer, behind which an acolyte priestess sat, doing the job of concierge. Jules' steps echoed in the large room as he walked up to the desk and she looked up with a smile and asked how she could be of service.
"I'm here to visit the Air Priestess Sarai," he said with that same charming smile.
The woman frowned slightly. "I'll let the High Priestess Sarai know you're here, Monsieur..." She left the sentence hanging, waiting for him to supply his name. Hastily he did, trying to hide his astonishment, and the woman left him in the foyer.
High Priestess already? He'd been gone only four months and already she'd gone through two more levels of the Order? At this rate she'll be Mother Superior by her fortieth birthday. And quite a formidable one.
He didn't have to wait long. Soon the concierge was back, with the priestess Kara.
Jules greeted his sister-in-law with a brotherly embrace. She returned it warmly and made a small sign with her hands, a blessing she did every time he came to visit.
"Huanyam huanaipriyan, Jules," she said, using the greeting used by all priestesses to laypersons. He had no idea what the words meant and he was hard-pressed to pronounce them correctly. The Temple spoke a strange dialect he'd never mastered; Sarai, on the other hand, spoke the words as if they were her birth tongue.
He laughed a little. "When are you going to tell me what that means, Kara?" he asked as she led him through the hallways of the Temple.
"When you become a priestess," she replied, a twinkle in her eyes. "It's been a while since you've come to visit." There was no reproach in the words, but he felt it anyway.
"The Campaign was long and hard. I've been having trouble adjusting since coming home." And trouble sleeping, save last night. Midwinter Eve may have been the first good night's rest he'd had in well over a month. Curious.
Kara nodded, but said nothing. It was a flimsy excuse, he knew. He'd been back for over a sevenday. He should have come to visit Sarai right away. Feeling like an inadequate family member, he cast about for something to say, to keep the conversation going. "I hear Sarai is a High Priestess now."
Kara smiled, a quiet pride on her face. "Yes. She truly has a talent for the skills required of the Order. Always has."
"Well, I'm sure she wouldn't have made it without the loving support of her husband," Jules said diplomatically. Kara laughed, a pleasantly deep chuckle.
"And I'm sure I wouldn't have made it to Fire Priestess without the loving support of mine," she said pointedly. "But I doubt I'll climb further. I have not the skill Sarai has. And besides, I'm happy where I am."
She stopped walking then, and Jules realised they must be at Sarai's quarters. He also realised he was completely lost. The Temple was a maze, as well it should be, being built for defence. Only the priestesses knew their way through the hallways. He'd have to be led out again, as usual.
Sarai's quarters were different from last time. They were larger, more stately, with an antechamber. He supposed that came with the rank of High Priestess. Sarai stood in the middle of the room, hands clasped demurely at her waist, clothed in a dressing robe and her wet hair unbound instead of in its usual braid.
"I didn't mean to bother your bath, Sarai," Jules said, chagrined.
She smiled and shook her head. "I always have time for my little brothers, Jules."
"I'll leave you two to your visit," Kara said diplomatically, and left the room.
Jules crossed the room to hug his sister. "I've missed you, Sarai," he said into her hair. She had always been smaller than he, and had always looked younger, which was a source of some amusement between them as the woman was four years his senior.
"I missed you too, Frere," she said as she wrapped her arms around him and returned the hug. "I feared you might not return from Nucalif."
He sighed as he released her and looked down at her pixie face, so much like their mother's. Her hair was dark, like his, but there was already a bit of gray at the temples, the one area where her age showed. Her face still looked no older than twenty-five.
"I fear I did not wish to," he said sadly to her.
Her eyes creased in sadness as she caressed his face. "Such pain you're in, little brother. What has wounded you so?"
He grabbed her hand with his and shook his head. "It's not something I wish to speak of--and haven't you always been able to know my thoughts, anyway?"
She laughed softly. "True. Very well, then. Sit. We'll eat, and I'll give you a reading." She was already moving to the table and klinae arranged by the wall. He wanted to protest, for he had no desire to have his future told by a deck of cards, but he knew Sarai wished to help him somehow. Best way she feels she can.
A tea tray loaded with a pot of the hot drink and a plate of biscuits materialised on the table. He raised his eyebrows at his sister.
"No magek there," Sarai answered his unspoken question. "A dumbwaiter." She pointed to the wall. "And the fastest hands in Athering." She wiggled her fingers and winked at him.
He smiled, but didn't believe her. Sarai had never been fas
ter than he.
In a comfortable silence, as usual between them, he poured the tea while she pulled the cards from a drawer in the table. Maybe she'd anticipated his visit, keeping them there instead of by her ara, which presumably stood in her bedchamber as it had in her previous quarters. Or mayhap this table was easier to use for readings from Aradia's Deck.
When the tea was poured and each had nibbled a biscuit, she passed the cards to him and told him to shuffle, keeping his mind blank. He tried to obey, but inevitably his worries crept in and took root, sinking deep into his mind's soil. With a sigh he finished shuffling the deck and handed it back to his sister. It was hopeless.
Sarai concentrated; then quickly cut the deck into four piles. She chose a card from each pile and laid them down, eyes closed, and then consolidated the deck again, from where she chose three more cards. With seven cards face up on the table, she moved the deck to the side and opened her eyes. Sarai regarded at the spread, fingers drumming on the table, a crease forming on her forehead as she frowned.
"Interesting," she said.
"I refuse to give in to cliché and ask what's interesting, Sis," he said equably. Her laugh sounded forced.
"I've just never seen a reading like this before. That's all." Her voice was quiet. He could see she was debating over how much to tell him. Meaning, the reading wasn't necessarily good.
"So. Am I to die in the near future?"
She looked up at him, stricken. "What? No," she said, but she sounded uncertain. "Well, the cards don't say you are." She pointed to the seven cards she'd laid out. They were pretty pictures and gibberish to Jules. He shrugged. "I did a Mirrors spread, so only three cards are supposed to talk about world events; the other four are supposed to focus on your life. But there's too much overlap, and a high percentage of Pantheon cards which is unusual in and of itself."
Jules felt a cold stone settle into his stomach, but he forced his tone to stay light. "I hate to break this to you, Sis, but events in the world at large could very well have to do with me. I'm Yarrow's CMO, remember?" Like it or not, it's true. I'm as much a target as she.
Sarai sighed. "I know. I don't particularly wish to admit it. Okay then," she said, her voice suddenly lighter. "Let's get on with it." She smiled so brightly at him that he had no option but to let her spell out his fate.
~
When Jules returned to Suki, she looked at him as if to ask, Did you have a pleasant visit? He shook his head as he walked her to the driveway and mounted her, guiding her to the exit from the Complex.
"Aside from the reading, yes," he answered, and she seemed satisfied with that. "Aside from the reading," he said again, to himself. His worries had multiplied since noon, and right now he just wanted to crawl back into bed and stay there forever.
Sarai
Sarai sat in her anteroom, feeling apprehensive. Strong fingers kneaded her back as Kara worked the knots out, but the High Priestess' distress was not physical.
"What's bothering you?" Kara asked, quick to pick up on her husband's moods.
Sarai smiled, tired, and placed a hand gratefully on Kara's. The massage stopped as the Fire Priestess moved to sit beside her. "Did the reading distress you?"
"Yes." Sarai nodded.
Kara stroked her fingers across the back of Sarai's hand. "Tell me about it."
Sarai shook her head. Where to begin? "It is not the possibility of a love relationship for him that worries me--quite the opposite," she responded to Kara's question. "It is the other cards. They predict what we have come to fear...and more so, what I fear: losing another family member to these troubled times."
She sighed. The cards were hardly ever wrong. But my interpretation could be, her mental voice reminded her. Somehow, her heart doubted it.
"The cards speak true--darkness has taken the Sceptre--but more so that Jules is central to Kore's banishment of Her dark twin--again.
"And though it sounds as if I am giving myself airs, I believe strongly that Zameera herself is speaking through these cards." At Kara's sharp intake of breath, Sarai stopped.
"Underworld's Queen in the fifth-card position means only one thing, Sarai. That's not giving yourself airs." Kara's face was earnest. As a Fire Priestess, she specialised in prophecy. Sarai could always count on her husband to give an honest critique of her readings.
Sarai rubbed her face and stood, starting to pace in frustration. "Assuming I'm correct--the dead Queen is speaking to me--I can't understand what she's saying. At best I can make assumptions based on what I think she would want--and we both know I'm not qualified to make those decisions. Tyvian, I'm not sure anyone is." She stopped, shocked at her cursing. I'm more upset than I realise.
Kara had stayed silent during her husband's tirade; now she looked at the High Priestess shrewdly. "You should make an offering to Muerta."
Sarai shuddered and looked away. "Barter for an audience with the Mighty Dead?" She didn't need to look at Kara to know the other woman nodded. She didn't need to say anything to let Kara know her one failing as a priestess--how completely creeped out she felt when face to face with Muerta.
She sighed and looked back at Kara, whose look had become shrewder, if possible. "I suppose I haven't much choice in the matter, have I?"
Kara rose and joined Sarai, linking her arm around Sarai's waist. "I'm afraid you haven't, Love."
Sarai sighed and let herself be lead by her ever-wise spouse, down to the second deepest level of the Temple, to seek an audience with the decades-dead Queen.
Yarrow
Yarrow awoke with a hangover that could kill a treecat, vastly disappointed that the liquor hadn't done its job. She nearly fell out of bed and staggered to her washroom to relieve herself. On the privy bowl, nausea overcame her in a rush and she pitched forward to retch in the tub of her shower.
She fell to her back on the cool floor and groaned. "I can see this day is going to be great," she said, her voice a croak. "What is it about Midwinter that always bleeds me dry?"
With effort, she managed to stand and clean herself and the room a bit. The cold water of the shower shocked her to full wakefulness and cleared her head. As clear as it can be. She leaned outstretched arms against the wall of the shower, the stream of water beating down on her. She closed her eyes and let the cold water cleanse her face, her hair, her body. But not my soul.
Had Caelum come by while she slept? The door was locked, of course, but he would be stupid enough to try talking to her this soon afterwards. For his sake, she hoped he wouldn't. She didn't think she could stop herself from truly killing him the next time he came near.
"Feck," she said out loud, turning off the water as a thought struck her. Tonight was the Midwinter Banquet. She had to be there, and so did Caelum. At the same table.
Nor could she disappear into conversation with Anala--her once-friend never spoke in public anymore, and certainly not to Yarrow. The Battle of Voco had changed more than just their ranks.
She'd be trapped amongst Caelum, Anala, Aro, Anita, and Leala, and the CMOs of the first three regiments.
I can talk to Jules, I suppose.
Oh, it was going to be a long night. She could tell. And most likely will end with my death, if the spy has reported to Zardria already. Fitting I should join Mother on this night.
In only a few hours, it would begin, a quick glance at her clock told her as she stepped back into the bedroom, towels around her waist and hair. Her headache had not cleared with her mind. She needed tea.
With a string of invective keeping up a running commentary in her head, she got dressed in some civvies and pounded on her boots, not bothering to untie them again before putting them on. She didn't bother to braid her damp hair. It needed time to dry a bit anyway. She strapped on her belt and dagger sheath and left the room, heading to the hospitalis.
She did smile a bit at the memory of Ghia's threat should Yarrow begin to show up every day. She can keep me drugged up on valerian for as long as she likes at this point. That w
ould certainly be safer for those around me.
Her smile became a grimace at that thought, her hand unconsciously resting on her dagger hilt. Like a first stone that tumbles down and triggers a rock slide, she could feel herself slowly slipping into madness.
I hope Zardria does the right thing before I lose my grip completely. Otherwise things could get very, very dark.
Ghia
Since arriving at the hospitalis earlier that afternoon, she'd not had a moment's rest, nor any break to investigate the situation with the spy. Miranda had not shown up in the hospitalis again. After talking with Helene, Ghia had determined that Miranda had, in fact, been spying on her and Jules at first. Otherwise why would she follow us to the Cauldron?
The thought was unnerving, but now she was more worried about the bellica and major of the first regiment. Not that she thought they'd be so dumb as to openly discuss anything that could be construed as treason, but these days the difference between what one said and what was heard by those in charge was great. During dinner at the tavern she'd heard from some townsfolk who'd come in that there'd been another raid the night before, only two doors down. A small family that did charity to the poor of Atherton had simply disappeared. Ghia couldn't imagine what they could have done--she'd known them most of her life, the sweetest people one could know. The wife had been a priestess and had settled down with his husband in order to bring the goodness of the Goddesses to the townspeople.
Now they were gone. Never to be seen again, like as not. More victims of Zanny's Secret Police. Or mayhap the Police now belong to Zardria. Either way, Athering had lost too many good people to the darkness that sat in state at the castle.
She almost cried with relief when Yarrow walked into the hospitalis again at just half an hour to the appointed time of the banquet, though it was unlikely that anyone would be on time. She hid her gratefulness quite well, however, and kept up her prickly healer's demeanour.
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