Shadows of Prophecy

by Rachel Lee

  “My life,” she said, her voice raw with pain, “is worth no more than any other’s.”

  “Nor,” said Sara gently, “do I think he did it only to protect you. That may have been his excuse, but it was not his only reason.”

  Cilla sighed and sipped her tea, allowing its warmth to calm her. “I did something tonight of which I am not proud, although it was my right. I stood witness to a murder and let the killer go. Indeed, I told him to hide the body. As a judge, I had the right to declare that Ratha had done no wrong. But I had no right to conceal the deed.”

  “These are difficult times,” Tess said. “I think we will more than once be required to do things of which we are not proud.”

  Sara nodded, sharing the memory of what she had done to Lantav Glassidor. The sight of her blood burning the man like molten fire was not one she would ever be comfortable with.

  Cilla nodded as she saw the scene in her own mind. “My poor sisters,” she said at last, and sighed yet again.

  “We must look forward,” Tess insisted. “We will have the rest of our lives to look back and grieve for what we have done, but for now, for the sake of all Anari, we must look forward.”

  “Aye,” Cilla agreed sadly. “Aye. ’Tis our duty.”

  But duty was cold comfort indeed.

  * * * *

  With the first touch of dawn’s chill light, Erkiah Nebu arrived in Anahar. Old and lame, and largely ignored by the Bozandari, he was nonetheless the greatest prophet of his times. A few of the things he had prophesied had quickly put him out of favor, which was much to his own liking. It was enough to write down what he saw and trust that those who cared would take what they needed from it.

  But the summons from Archer Blackcloak—Annuvil, as Erkiah knew but kept secret in his own heart—had excited him. He had hired a wagon and two horses to make the trip as swiftly as he could to Anahar, trusting his second sight to keep him safe.

  As it happened, he had twice needed to dodge patrols that might have made what was left of his life extremely painful, but he had also gleaned information he was anxious to share.

  As a younger man he had come to Anahar several times to drink its wonders and stand within the embrace of its temple walls when the mothers allowed it. He thought of this place as the heart of the world, and as he entered its rainbow-hued streets, he felt the incredible love there. He did not know if that love came from the stones themselves, or from the long ago masons who had shaped them. Nor did it seem to matter. Anahar’s beauty went to its very soul.

  He remembered the location of Gewindi-Tel with no difficulty, and found his way to Archer’s lodgings within easily, for, as he stepped through the gate, he felt the shift in the warp and woof of reality that indicated the great power of Ilduin.

  He paused, astonished, for it had been a long, long time since he had sensed even a small touch of such power, but now it seemed great almost beyond description. Near where he stood, the very fabric of reality had been altered, and he could sense it as if some spark made the hair on his arms rise.

  He thanked the gods that he had lived to experience such. Perhaps the end of exile was at hand. Perhaps they were nearing the restoration of the First Age. He hoped he might live long enough to see it.

  Then, turning his cart over to a pleasant Gewindi girl, he climbed down. He gave the girl a coin and received a warm smile in return.

  He hobbled directly toward a door that seemed to call to him. At his knock, it was opened at once by a young woman who appeared, to his inner eye, to glow with a blue aura.

  “My lord Annuvil has summoned me,” he said. “I am Erkiah Nebu, my lady.”

  At once he was ushered inside and immediately knew that he stood in the presence of three Ilduin. The one with the blue aura, the one with the amber aura, who said she was Cilla, and the one with the white aura, who called herself Tess.

  “Tess,” he said, and his heart leaped a little. “’Tis but a temporary name for one much older.”

  She looked perplexed, but he chose not to say more. To reveal too much could be an evil thing. Time and the gods had their own pace for revelation.

  Then a young man with a leather strip over his eyes appeared in a nearby doorway. At once shock rippled through Erkiah, and he clutched at his heart.

  “Thank the gods I have seen this day!”

  No one questioned him. Instead, the women hurried to settle him into a comfortable chair, and to offer him tea and bread. They seemed to understand that an old man might have found the journey from Bozandar to be exceedingly wearying, but fatigue had left his old bones the moment he set eyes on the youth.

  “Wonder of wonders,” he murmured as he accepted the tea and bread with thanks. “Wonder of wonders.”

  Sara, with the beautiful blue aura, sat close by and encouraged him to drink the strengthening tea. “It is so good of you to travel such a long distance,” she said.

  He nodded, but his attention was riveted to the young man. “I have lived to see it,” he said, his voice cracking with awe. “I have seen him who was prophesied. The Foundling. The prophet who was foretold.”

  “Yes,” the woman who called herself Tess replied. “This is a time of portents aroused.”

  “Your full name is Trey-sah,” Erkiah said.

  “Yes,” Tess answered, surprised because even she had only remembered her full name in the presence of the statue of Theriel. “Theresa.”

  “It may be that in your world,” Erkiah replied. “But you know what it means in this one.”

  Tess thought back to her first hours at the caravan massacre and the first words she had learned. The young girl she had clutched to her bosom, fighting vainly to save her life. The girl who had soon been…trey-sah.

  “Dead,” Tess replied.

  “And yet not,” Erkiah said, looking at her. “For the name you choose to be called is Teh-su.”

  The girl had whispered those words as the bane poison spread through her body. Teh-su. Teh-su.

  “That means ‘help me.’”

  “Yes,” said Erkiah.

  “She that was dead, come to help,” Tom said, his face frozen. “It means, The White Lady returns.”

  Erkiah nodded and placed a hand on Tom’s shoulder. “Yes, my son. And that is your lesson for today. Never see so far that you miss what is right before you.”

  But Tess barely heard his words to Tom as shock and something very like horror filled her. The White Lady returns? Theriel returns? Did that mean she was Theriel? Or merely like Theriel? Her mind reeled as she tried to absorb this news even as she wanted to reject it.

  Erkiah turned to the Ilduin. “You have much to do, and this is not the place to do it. Be at ease, Lady Sara. I will care for him. You must learn the ways of the army.”

  “But we…” Tess began. Her mind had become mired in the single question of her identity, something she had increasingly managed to put aside these past weeks, focusing instead on the now and the immediate future.

  “You are all that stands between brave Anari and death,” Erkiah said. “For bravery is poor, if it have not eyes to guide it.”

  “I do not understand,” Tess said. Indeed, she began to think she understood nothing at all.

  “Oh, I do,” Cilla said, nodding as she looked into Erkiah’s eyes. “Come, sisters. We are needed.”

  20

  “How far?” Archer asked, looking at the three Ilduin who stood with him on a bluff.

  In the valley below, groups of Anari tried to step, turn and swing their swords in unison. The training was slow, frustrating work. But Jenah and Giri had set themselves to the task, and now each moved from one group to another, their voices sharp as they barked corrections.

  “We do not know,” Cilla said. “But they heard my heart from halfway across the city. Perhaps, with further training and practice…”

  “Yes,” Archer agreed. He turned to Tess. “When did you know of this?”

  “Only this morning,” Tess answered, looking at Sara.
For the sake of her sisters’ privacy, there was much she could not say. “Perhaps had I not been half-asleep when first I felt it, I might have questioned it and, in that questioning, denied it. But I know it to be true.”

  “And think of what it could mean for our army,” Cilla urged. “The commanders…”

  “Could coordinate their maneuvers,” Archer said, clearly seeing the potential in this new knowledge. But the dark hive of Lantav Glassidor nagged at his mind. “It is true that this would benefit us. But we cannot become what we seek to destroy. There was evil in the hive, and not simply in the one who controlled it.”

  Sara looked up as a flock of birds wheeled on the wing, following an impulse that only they could detect. “Look, Lord Archer. They fly as one, yet they cause no evil.”

  “And we are not a hive,” Tess said. “I do not wish to bend my sisters’ will to my own, nor they to bend mine to theirs. Each of us has within her a door to close if she wishes, and each of us respects that. What we offer, we offer freely, both to each other and to you. We would have it no less.”

  “Erkiah has seen it,” Cilla said. “It bodes ill to balk at the words of a prophet.”

  He nodded. He had been pleased to hear that Erkiah had answered his summons and come to Anahar. Even now, he was sure, young Tom was knocking eagerly at the door of wisdom. A door Erkiah would open for him, guiding him through the corridors beyond. Archer had known the old prophet for years beyond counting and knew his heart was true. If he had seen this…

  But Archer had once before placed his hopes in the combined strength of the Ilduin, and of that had come the holocaust of Dederand. They, too, had been good women, faithful in service and true of heart. Like the three who stood before him, they, too, had offered their aid in time of need. But what they had wrought…

  “I must think on this,” he said. “I know we do not have the luxury of time, but on this matter I cannot act in haste. I have done so before, and my haste brought great destruction.”

  Cilla drew a breath as if to object, but Tess stilled her with a hand on her arm. “Aye, you have told me a little of it. Be assured that we stand ready to act at your command.”

  With that, she nodded to Sara and Cilla. “Come, sisters. He needs time to decide.”

  They nodded and followed her, leaving Archer with his own thoughts. He watched the growing army below him, now in the thousands, and knew how ponderous such a body could be.

  Fate was among the greatest enemies in war. A horse lamed by stepping into a hole. A wagon wheel come free, the cargo spilled across the path. Over such mishaps did every commander fret, for they were certain to occur, though none could say when or where, and could stall a thousand men on the march, leaving them disordered and easy prey.

  Beside such Fate stood its brother, Ignorance. Many a battle had been lost because the commander knew not where the enemy, or his own army, might be. A trail unseen, a path unmarked, an army fighting vainly with one wing as another wandered lost for hours, trying to find the field. Precious hours.

  And behind Fate and Ignorance stood their father, Time. A human enemy could be defeated or outwitted, but Time marched onward, implacable, unceasing. Oft had a general wept for just one more day to prepare, just one more hour for a rider to carry his message. But Time cared not for such tears of regret, nor did it heed such pleas. It must be met, or missed, for it would not change course.

  If what these three women offered was true, then the Anari could confront those three great enemies—Fate, Ignorance and Time—on more equal ground. Not fully equal, to be sure, for any and all could outwit even the greatest plan.

  But the Bozandari faced those enemies, as well, and Archer had no doubt that numbered among their ranks were Ilduin-bound servants of the Enemy, aiding their commanders in their deadly intentions. For the Anari to march forth without such aid would be folly, and certain death.

  Once again, Archer realized, he must trust in the Ilduin. Once again, he must reap both the benefits and the consequences of their power. The prophecies could not be put aside. The time was now.

  He summoned a young Anari to him. “Go to the temple and find the three Ilduin. Tell them they must learn well, for great will be our need.”

  “Yes, Lord Archer,” the boy said. “I will run like the desert wind.”

  As the boy scampered away, Archer felt the hollow in the pit of his stomach, the empty hole of pride humbled. Ratha had been right. Watching the boy disappear among the rocks, Archer realized that if he and the Ilduin had created beauty, it was a beauty to which they now owed a heavy debt.

  The time had come to repay it.

  * * * *

  Tess was barely aware that Cilla went to the door of the temple in answer to a knock and had a brief conversation with an Anari lad. She was nearly transported beyond awareness of the world around her.

  The more time she spent in the temple, the more reality seemed to shift, as if it were a fluid thing. Or as if it were an overlapping picture of some sort. It not only made her feel that things were out of joint, but she also sensed that somehow it was within her power to focus the fuzzy image of reality.

  But how, she did not know.

  She moved slowly through the winding corridors, stopping at each new image to contemplate it, to touch it. And when she touched it, very often she would hear distant music. Distant yet not distant, for while it sounded far away, it seemed to spring from some deep well within her. A communication of some sort, but in a language she did not understand.

  The only thing she knew for certain was that each hour in the temple transformed her in some way beneath the conscious level. She felt increasingly…different.

  But the difference did not frighten her. Somehow it managed to make her feel comfortable with the internal earthquakes that were altering her forever.

  Her only concern was that, lacking memory, she might not have the wisdom to handle what was happening to her.

  Yet she moved on, taking the next step, needing the next change as if the building blocks of her being were somehow being replaced in their correct order, her Ilduin sisters coming behind her.

  Sometimes the music nearly made her weep. Other times it filled her with joy and wonder. Each step was taken with both hesitation and excitement. For while she was called Tess, she had learned her real name. Theresa. Teh-suh. Help. Trey-sah. Dead.

  It means more than that, Tess heard someone think. The voice of the thought was neither Sara’s nor Cilla’s, though both looked at her immediately. They heard the thought also. Nor was this the voice of Elanor, who had not deigned to speak to Tess since her startling revelation days earlier. This was a voice that Tess had heard in her dreams for the past fifteen years. It was the voice of her mother.

  Yes, my love, the voice said. It has been far too long for you, but only a moment for me.

  But you’re…

  Yes, I am, Tess. Beyond a veil that not even the gods dare to rend. And yet, they did. For you.

  What do you…?

  First a mere pinprick, her mother continued, on the night you were conceived. A tiny opening through which your true essence could be passed on, from your earliest moment. And then…another tear. To bring you here.

  Tess could hardly hear the words, for she was focused on the sound of her mother’s voice. The touch of her spirit once again. Childhood memories scrolled by so rapidly that she could not grasp them, yet still the pieces of her life began to take form.

  There will be time for that later, Tess, her mother said, in that firm voice Tess had heard so often in childhood. The voice of displeasure with a child distracted from the task at hand. There is much for you to learn, and not much time in which to learn it. You cannot look to the past, for you are needed in the present.

  But I feel so…lost, Tess thought.

  Of course you do, dear. For you are lost. Caught between a past you cannot remember and a future you cannot foresee. But you know where you are now.

  In the temple at Anahar, Tess tho
ught, an edge of childhood sarcasm in her tone.

  You say it as if knowing that means little, her mother replied. Yet it means more than you realize. The more completely you know a single moment of your life, the more completely you know life itself.

  Why did you…? Tess’s thought began, but her mother did not wait for her to finish.

  The past again, my dear. It was necessary. And while you never knew it, the touch of your hands on my face in that moment made it easier to be ushered through that veil. I went freely, Tess. And I went certain of your love. Certain of your heart. Certain of your goodness.

  You left me, Tess said, her anger building again.

  Yes, I did. To complete you.

  To complete me? How?

  Ilduin blood must be unchained, her mother said. The daughter’s gifts cannot fully emerge if the mother still lives. That is why it most often skips a generation. From the moment of that first pinprick in the veil, I knew you. And from that moment I knew I would have to leave you, and leave you far too soon. In that first instant of your life, I knew, and I asked only that I might have time to see the woman you would become, and that my leaving would come without warning.

  It had been a freak accident, Tess now remembered. One moment they were walking. Then Tess had dropped a parcel and stopped to pick it up. Her mother had not noticed and had stepped on ahead. The truck had seemed to come out of nowhere, and Tess had known the truth from the first, sickening thud. She had turned to see her mother lying limp on the road, her head at an impossible angle.

  I did not feel anything, her mother thought. There was no pain, dear. I was numb from the first moment, and yet I heard your voice, felt the touch of your hands, felt your grief, felt the purity of your soul. Had I voice to speak, I would have told you how much I loved you. But I could not, and that was my only regret. That was the price I paid for not wanting to know when it would happen. When it did, I didn’t have time to say goodbye.