Moonrazer nodded at the gleam of her blade and placed it back in the sheath, then she fastened it to the belt. "The Sword of Mercy is the complement to the Sword of Justice. The hilt of the Sword of Justice is carved from a single piece of onyx, and Mercy's hilt is crystal. Of course, ideally, the Mother Prioress and the Exalted Warrior would work closely in the day-to-day details of running the Sarl, but since the discovery of the Fountain of Infallible Light, the Sisters were relocated there in order to more clearly hear the words of prophecy.
"I have often wondered if the Tower should have been rebuilt closer to the Fountain." She looked around the chambers she'd come to think of as home. "However, perhaps, given the situation, this is for the best."
"Maybe not," Adazzra said. "Perhaps you and Whiteshadow would be on better terms if you had to work together."
"As you say," Moonrazer said, but she didn't believe that. "I wish I knew what this visit was about. Whiteshadow never comes to Cool Trails, and she never communicates with me unless…"
Her voice trailed off, and she stopped walking.
"What is it?" Adazzra asked.
"The anniversary of my birth is approaching. I will have seen thirty-nine blizzards."
"Perhaps she has decided to mark the occasion."
"I am sure she is here because there is some kind of ritual for this."
"That might not be so bad."
The Exalted Warrior shook her head. "You do not know my sister. She will use this as an occasion to complain about the way I rule."
They reached the staircase and started to descend.
"Relax. You look very regal," Adazzra murmured as they approached a number of women in religious garments waiting for them at the bottom.
"But not like myself," Moonrazer said.
Adazzra grinned at her friend. "I don't know. I think you look very formidable. Whiteshadow is in for a surprise."
"Do not fool yourself, Tree Woman. Whiteshadow may wear the robes of a holy woman, but she has the heart of a warrior and she is not afraid to show it. She never shows surprise."
****
Moonrazer reached the bottom of the stairs with Adazzra right behind her, and all those waiting for her bowed.
"Warrior," one of the older women of the group said as she straightened, "the Sisters of the Flame have come to honor you on the anniversary of your birth."
Moonrazer looked around the circle of female faces. She did not see her sister. Perhaps Whiteshadow hadn't come after all.
"The anniversary of my birth is more than a moon cycle away. Surely, your visit could have waited until then."
The religious sister looked confused and scanned her companions before looking back at the Exalted Warrior. "It is rare that an Exalted Warrior survives thirty-nine blizzards, even with such an extended time of peace. We must celebrate. We must have time to prepare the History Chronicles and…"
Moonrazer closed her eyes and sighed in resignation. When she opened them, all of the Sisters of the Flame were watching her.
"You want to perform the History Cycle for all the people to witness."
All the Sisters nodded, clearly pleased. The older woman, who was clearly their spokesman, said, "We have, of course, rehearsed at the Fountain of Infallible Light, but we were not sure of the space available to us here."
Another sister spoke up. "And we've added a new chapter to the Cycle…"
"Strawshield." A voice from the shadows caused the Sisters to freeze. "We should not share all our secrets with the Exalted Warrior. Surely, on her special day, a few surprises are in order."
Whiteshadow III, Mother Prioress of the Sisters of the Flame and Spiritual Leader of the Sarl, stepped into the light.
Moonrazer was shocked by her sister's appearance. Her face looked careworn, and the lines around her mouth seemed to indicate that she wore a frown more than the smile that once brightened her youthful features.
She also seemed thinner than Moonrazer remembered, as though she had been ill and had not sufficiently recovered. However, the Exalted Warrior chose not to comment on this.
Whiteshadow continued, "The anniversary of your birth seems, to us, to be the perfect time to remind our people of the history of the Exalted Warriors."
"But with the History Cycle?" Moonrazer asked.
"I think it is time our people saw it the way it was intended to be performed. Now that Carrick belongs to the Sarl again, we can do it properly." Whiteshadow smiled. "I am sure the people of Carrick will appreciate the chance for a holiday."
"I am sure they will," Moonrazer said.
While few Exalted Warriors lived long enough to see the thirty-ninth anniversary of their birth, those that did celebrated with a full blizzard of pageants and rituals. Moonrazer's heart sank. She'd hoped all this would have been forgotten in the seven generations since the previous Exalted Warrior lost the Sword of Justice.
Whiteshadow bowed again. When she straightened, she said, "I assume there is somewhere my Sisters can stay for the duration of our visit here. Perhaps the chapel? And, of course, we will need to use the training ground for the performances."
"Where will the warriors train?" Adazzra spoke for the first time since Whiteshadow appeared.
The Mother Prioress glared at Adazzra but didn't respond to the question. Instead, she looked at Moonrazer. "Will you see that is handled for us?"
"Adazzra has a good question," the Exalted Warrior said. "If this celebration is to take a full blizzard, do you intend to have my training field out of service that entire time?"
Whiteshadow raised her eyebrows. "The Sarl are at peace, are we not? Why do your warriors need to train?"
Without waiting for a response, she addressed her Sisters. "Let us leave the Exalted Warrior to her tasks. We will go to the chapel and begin preparations for the celebrations."
More quickly than Moonrazer would have thought possible, the Sisters of the Flame left the Gathering Hall.
Chapter Five
Varian was pacing in the library when he heard feminine footsteps coming up behind him.
"Are you waiting for the Mystics?"
He turned to face his sister, Estelle. "The Mystics?"
"I'm not stupid, Varian. I may not be the Princess of Tellan, but I do know about the Dragon Curse. I also know you've been consulting the Mystics for answers."
"You've never said anything."
"You had enough on your mind without thinking you had to protect me. And don't worry. Gloriana doesn't know anything about it."
She started walking toward the library. Varian noticed then that she was carrying a pile of books, and he reached to take them from her.
"Thank you. I was looking into some of the other Known Worlds. I thought maybe if we wanted to… you know, leave… it might be good to know if there was somewhere the Dragons couldn't find us."
They went into the library, and Varian set the books on a tall table in the center of the room. He and his sister sat down in soft easy chairs set at right angles to one another.
"Estelle," Varian said, leaning his elbows on his knees. "We can't leave Tellan. Well, I mean, I can't. You and Gloriana can. I'm not sure if the Weavers would let Christabel leave, but that's not the point."
"Why, Varian?" his sister asked. "Why can't you leave?"
"The Curse says…"
Estelle waved his comments away. "I know what the Curse says. If you aren't there to stand in for the people of Tellan, the Dragons will destroy everyone on this world."
"I think that's reason enough for me to stay."
"We can all leave."
Varian stared at his little sister. Estelle was the youngest of his three sisters and the one who looked most like their father, with her jet black hair and vivid green eyes. Her high cheekbones, which had looked so arrogant on Prince Christopher, looked elegant and beautiful on his daughter.
"All?" Varian asked.
Estelle bobbed her head enthusiastically. "All of us. The whole world. You can talk to the Weavers, a
nd they can find a way to get the Giants out and all the people, right?"
"You're thinking of having us try to evacuate the entire world?"
She shrugged. "It seems like the most logical thing to do. I mean, we've got seven months. If the Dragons are so set on taking revenge on the wizards for coming to this world and all that, I say, let's give them the world back."
"And where would we go?"
At that she furrowed her brow. "So far I haven't found a world that is large enough to take all of us. I've begun thinking that maybe we could scatter to a number of worlds."
Varian reached across the space between them and took his sister's hand. "I appreciate why you're doing this. I don't want to die, and I certainly don't want the Dragons to kill everyone on Tellan, but there isn't…" He stopped.
"You can't think of a reason not to do it, can you?" she said.
"Not right now, but I will talk to the Mystics about this suggestion. Estelle, regardless of what the Mystics say, I am going to have to leave for awhile. Violetta told me, right before she died, that she gave birth to a baby girl sixteen years ago. If there is a chance that baby is still alive, all our problems would be solved."
His sister's eyes grew wide. "There could be a Dragonmarked Heir after all?"
"If the Holy One is with us, the child will still be alive and I can find her."
"Why are you still sitting here?" Estelle asked, jumping up from her chair. "I'll help you pack."
Varian smiled. "Why don't we wait until after I talk to the Mystics?"
****
After he left Estelle in the library, Varian went to the music salon. As he fingered the strings of Gloriana's harp, he heard the tinkle of small bells. He jumped up. The Mystics were there.
He hurried out of the salon and found the Mystics in the hallway just outside the ballroom, a blue mist hovering about knee-level around them. Without speaking, he hustled them inside.
The Mystics were an order of religious brothers, wizards of Tellan who used their dream magic to contemplate the mysteries of the Holy One. Ever since Elizabeth Louise and baby Cyprian had died, he'd given them the task of studying the Curse and any writings of the past related to it.
The Mystic Leader, Brother Soldias, pulled a bell, two smooth stones, and a braided length of something that looked like wheat or tan grass from underneath his yellow robe and spread them out on a table next to his chair.
"What have you found?" Varian asked.
"There are many forces at work that may affect thy destiny." Brother Soldias took the braid off the table, pulled out a single thin strand, and handed it to the Prince. "If it were one force, perhaps the picture would only shift and thy path would reveal itself. However—"
Now he pulled two thick strands from the braid. "—there is one who will be tested before claiming her destiny and another is so much more than even she knows. These two women will have a strong effect, not only on thy path but on the paths of many."
"The people of Tellan?"
"Merely smaller pieces in a larger picture."
Again, Varian stared at the braid that Soldias was still unraveling. "Does Rillaur appear in the signs?"
"The King of Andarnnon is also a force in your destiny, of course, as well as the destinies of the people of Tellan."
"Do the signs suggest that giving the kingdom to him will help my people?"
"The stones suggest hardship, but the bell and braid speak of prosperity to some. There will be slavery, wealth, death, and life. Eventually, however, they will prosper." Soldias rang the bell and rolled the stones on the table. "Thou, Sire, Rillaur will hold thee guilty for what he sees as your abandonment of his sister. He would have thee imprisoned for the rest of your life, where you will contract a lung disease and die in pain."
"And if I choose to be judged and killed by the Dragons? What would happen to my people then?"
"Thou would not be the only one to perish in flames. Thy sisters, all three, would die as well. The king of Andarnnon would sit atop thy throne over the bodies of thy ancestors and family."
Varian nodded sadly. "Either way, Rillaur will eventually rule Tellan, but I could save my sisters by giving him the kingdom before the festival. Is this the path I am destined to take?"
"The signs suggest numerous possible paths thy majesty could choose. The decision must be thine alone. However," Soldias said, "thou must understand, Rillaur's influence on thy destiny is overshadowed by the two women I mentioned. The Known Worlds have never seen the likes of these women in all of history. One must be chosen and she will determine the tone of the picture. All the Known Worlds await this outcome."
"All the Known Worlds?" Varian asked.
"Sire, thou must align thyself with one of these women, but our casting stones cannot tell us which woman holds thy future in her hands." Soldias handed him the stones. "Understand this. Thy part in this story could be crucial."
"Could be?" The Prince jostled the stones in his hand then set them, with the braid strands, on the table.
Soldias shook his head. "You must find these women, seek them out, and find the one who will lead thee to the path that will save our world. Understand, however, the story remains even without thy thread. More forces are gathering to destroy one of these women and upon her stands the future of this world and many others."
"Where are these women? How will I know which to align myself with?"
"Thou will have our prayers and we will continue to search all the signs for guidance."
"Brother Soldias," Varian said, rubbing his hands on his knees, "I have one more question."
"Of course, Sire."
Varian wasn't sure how to approach the Mystic with Estelle's idea. To his ears, it sounded like a cowardly choice, but he had no idea what these strange, mysterious men would think.
Soldias sat quietly, clearly waiting for the question.
"What if we evacuated Tellan? If, when the Dragons come back, there are no people here? Wouldn't my people be safe then?"
The Mystic tipped his head to one side. "Is this the path thou are considering?"
"It's an option."
"It is indeed." Soldias picked up the stones, shuffled them in his hands, then tossed them on the table. "It is an option, and the people of thy world would be safe from fire, but they still would suffer. However, the Dragons would cancel thy debt to them."
Varian smiled for what seemed like the first time in days. "So this is the option we should take."
"If thou wishes."
Varian stood. "Thank you."
"However, much of the destinies of the Known Worlds would change. Whole threads in the tapestry would dissolve and other worlds would perish."
He picked up the braid and deliberately tore it apart, pulling hanks of threads out and dropping them on the floor.
"I see," Varian said, staring at Soldias' calm demeanor. "Can you give me any advice on what path I should take?"
"We have given thee all the help we can. Thou must make thy own decisions."
Soldias stood and rang the small bell.
"Wait," Prince Varian said. "My daughter? Is she alive? Will I find her?"
The Mystic bowed his head. "Seek the two women, Sire. All depends on them."
The other Mystics, who had gathered in small groups in the corners of the room, chanting and casting their own stones, stood as one and lined up behind him.
"We return to Mount Easoa to consult with the spirits again."
Varian said, "Can't you try to find out more? I don't know the right path to take."
"We have done all we can for now," Soldias said as they filed out of the palace.
****
Varian looked around his quarters. "I think everything is packed," he said to Estelle, who was still rummaging in drawers, pulling out a pair of stockings here or a belt there and attempting to stuff them into a trunk. "I don't believe I'll need all my garments for this trip."
"You have no idea what you will need. You aren't even sure where
you're going." She took another look in the chest at the foot of the Prince's bed. "I am in complete agreement about this trip. I just wish we had some idea where to start looking."
"We?" Varian stopped going through the papers in the top drawer of his private desk. "You don't think you're going with me, do you?"
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