Priestess of the White

by Trudi Canavan

  “Promise me something,” she breathed.

  All he could see were stars reflected in her eyes. “Anything.”

  “Promise me you’ll show the Speakers your harness at the next Gathering.”

  He hesitated at the sudden change of subject. “My harness…?”

  “Yes.” She paused. “You’re surprised.”

  “It was far from my thoughts,” he admitted.

  She laughed quietly. “Did I actually manage to get your full attention for once?”

  He pulled her closer. As he kissed her again, her mouth opened. She mouthed his lips gently, sending shivers of pleasure down his spine. He spread his fingers out over her back, feeling the deliciously neat curve of her spine. As she nibbled at his lower lip he ran a finger down the seam of her clothes, where her vest allowed the membrane of her wings to escape. He felt her stiffen in surprise, then relax and lean against him, her breasts firm and warm against his chest.

  This is just too good, he thought wryly. Sliding his hands under the vest, he sighed as he felt the bare, silky skin of her back. He felt her hands follow the same course under his clothes, running from the base of his neck down to—he chuckled in surprise as she squeezed his buttocks. But as he moved to do the same, she pulled away. The sound of their breathing was loud. She drew in a deep breath and let it out slowly.

  “We have to go back.”

  He looked away, disappointed but knowing she was right. His cousins, annoyed at losing their quarry in the forest, would return to their parents and report what they’d seen. They didn’t see everything, he thought smugly.

  “Promise me we’ll do this again,” he said, the words coming out before he could consider them.

  She chuckled. “Only if you promise me you’ll show the Speakers the harness.”

  He let out a long breath, then nodded. “I promise.”

  “That…?”

  “I’ll show the Speakers the harness.”

  “At the next Gathering?”

  “Yes. Unless a better opportunity comes.”

  “I suppose that’s reasonable,” she said.

  They stood in silence for several heartbeats. He found himself remembering the feel of her skin under his hands. He longed to touch her again.

  She sighed. “Do you think you could find your way back on your own?”

  “No.”

  She laughed. “Liar. Of course you can. I think it would be better if we returned from different directions. I’m going to go around the other side of the Open.”

  “That’s a long way. Would it be that bad if people saw us together?”

  “My father doesn’t want me to marry outside the tribe.” She paused. “Not that I’m asking you to marry me. But he doesn’t like me talking to you.”

  He stared at her and felt the night turn sour.

  She stepped close. “Don’t worry,” she said lightly. “I’ll change his mind.” She leaned forward and kissed him firmly. Then she slipped out of his grasp. He caught the flash of her teeth in the light from the bower before she turned and hurried away.

  Emerahl had learned long ago that the easiest method of finding the secret ways of a city was to befriend the youngest and poorest residents. The grubby, cunning children of the streets could tell you more about its underside than the adults who ruled it. They knew how to be invisible and their loyalty could be bought cheaply.

  She had sought them out the day after her narrow escape in the market. Finding a small square in the poorer quarter of the city she spent a few hours watching and listening to the activities around her. The locals weren’t fools, and she only observed two successful pocket-picking attempts.

  When one of the boys slouched past her, she met his eyes squarely.

  “That’s a nasty cough you’ve got there,” she said. “Better lose it before the weather gets cold.”

  The boy slowed and stared at her suspiciously, taking in her well-worn but mostly clean clothes.

  “What you care?”

  “Why shouldn’t I?”

  He stopped, his eyes narrowing. “If you did, you’d give me some coin.”

  She smiled. “And what would you do with it?”

  “Buy food—for m’sel’ and m’ sis.” He paused. “She got the cough worse than me.”

  “How about I buy the food for you?” she suggested.

  He did not answer. She looked away. “Only way you’ll get anything out of me.”

  “All right. But no weird stuff. I’m not going anywhere with you but the market.”

  So she followed him to the local, smaller market and bought him some fruit and bread, and treated them both to thin pastry pockets full of freshly grilled meat. She noted him slipping the last few bites into a pocket, and guessed his story of a sister was true.

  “For that cough,” she said, “you and your sister need a bit of this.” She purchased some decongestant from a herbalist after smelling it critically to see if it did contain the herbs it claimed to. “A spoonful of this three times a day. No more, or you’ll poison yourselves.”

  He stared at her as he took the bottle. “Thanks.”

  “Now, you can do me a small favor in return.” He scowled. “Don’t worry. No weird stuff. I just want some advice. I need a place to stay for a few days. Somewhere cheap. And quiet, if you know what I mean.”

  That night she found herself the guest of a small gang of children living in the basement of a burned-out house on the outskirts of the poor quarter. She found that Rayo, the boy she had helped, did have a sister ill with a serious chest infection, so she brought out her own cures to treat the illness more aggressively.

  It did not take long for news of the priests’ search for an old healer woman to reach the children. They confronted her with the news and their suspicions the next day.

  “The city’s all stirred up. The priests are looking for a sor’sress,” a younger boy, Tiro, said.

  “An old woman. Like you,” a girl, Gae, added.

  Emerahl grunted. “So I heard. Priests think every old woman is a sorceress, especially if she knows a bit about herbs and things.” She pointed a bony finger at them. “They’re just jealous, you see, because we know more than they do about cures.”

  “But that’s stupid,” Rayo said. “You’re old. You’ll be dead soon.”

  She looked at the boy reproachfully. “Thanks for reminding me.” Then she sighed. “It is stupid. Like you said, what can we do, eh? Nothing but put up with them roughing us up.”

  “They done that to you?” Tiro asked.

  She sighed and nodded, pointing at a rip in the seam of her tawl. “Chose a fine time to get turned out of my house, didn’t I?”

  “Then you not the sor’sress. You safe,” Gae assured her.

  Emerahl looked at the girl sadly. “Depends if they find what they’re looking for. If they don’t, they’ll just keep hassling us. Or they might take someone and put the blame on her rather than admit they lost the one they’re after.”

  “We’re not going to let that happen,” Rayo told her firmly.

  She smiled. “You’re all too good to me, letting me stay here.”

  The children didn’t seem to mind that the few days she had said she would stay turned into a week, then two. She gave them things of hers to sell. They brought back food and even a little cheap firewater, and occasionally spied on the priests so she would know when the search ended.

  “I o’erheard two of ’em,” Tiro told her breathlessly one night. “They were talking of the higher priest who d’recting the search. Ikaro’s his name. They said he c’municates with the gods, and he been giv’n the ’bility to read minds.”

  “So they haven’t found her yet?” she asked.

  “Don’t think so.”

  Emerahl sighed, but her dismay was more to do with the news of her pursuer’s abilities.

  Of course, the people Tiro had overheard might be so in awe of their superior that they believed any rumor that came their way. However, she could not
take the risk that it was true. Any priest who tried to read her mind would see nothing. It took considerable magical ability to master the Gift of hiding one’s mind. He might not know this, but she wasn’t intending to find out.

  According to the children, anyone leaving the city by boat, tarn, platten or foot was being watched by priests. Even the secret ways of the underworld were being watched. All old women were being taken to the high priest to be examined. The Circlians were putting a lot of effort into finding her. If they had guessed who she was, the gods would be peering through every priest’s eyes, looking for her. And if they found her…

  She shivered. They’ll kill me, just as they killed Mirar, The Oracle and The Farmer, and probably The Twins and The Gull, though I never heard reports of their deaths.

  It was tempting to simply stay put and wait it out. The priests couldn’t keep this up forever. They would try a few other ploys before they gave up, however. She expected a reward would be offered soon. When that happened she could no longer be sure of the children’s loyalty. They were friendly, but they were not stupid. If the price was big enough she knew they would sell her with barely a second thought. She was, after all, just an old woman.

  Nobody was safe company now. What she ought to do was change her appearance, and it would have to be more than a change of clothing and hair color. She needed something much more dramatic.

  Such a change was not beyond her abilities, but the thought filled her with trepidation. It had been a long time since she’d practiced this Gift. A lot could go wrong. She needed time—perhaps a few days—in which to make the change, and she must not be interrupted as she worked.

  The children could not know, of course. It would be better if they never saw her new form—or even knew she had adopted one. Getting away from them would not be easy, however. Even if she came up with a plausible excuse, where was she to go?

  But perhaps she would not have to leave. A lot of her problems would be solved if they believed that she had died.

  15

  Danjin had spent most of the last two weeks in a constant state of awe and wonder. He was not the only person to experience this, though he believed he was one of the few who had managed to keep their wits despite everything that had happened. Most of the priests either walked about in a daze or could be heard gushing out praise for the gods or speculating on what wonders might still be in store for them all.

  As his platten bore him through the archway into the Temple, Danjin considered the events that had brought this about.

  The first revelation had been Auraya’s return. Neither ship nor platten had brought her back to the city. Instead, she had flown into the Temple like a great white wingless bird. Dyara’s arrival had been considerably quieter, he had been told by a servant. She had returned on the Bearer she had ridden out on, looking “as if she had a lot to think about.”

  The second revelation had been less pleasant. Auraya had told Danjin of her confrontation with the Pentadrian sorcerer and that the discovery of her new Gift came only as a result of her defeat. This information was to remain a secret, however. The White did not want to cause unnecessary fear among the people by making it known that the Pentadrians had a sorcerer of such strength he had overcome one of the White.

  Danjin hadn’t grown used to the idea that the woman he worked for could perform aerobatics that even birds could not achieve. After the Siyee ambassadors arrived he noticed a subtle change in the other White’s behavior toward Auraya, as if the appearance of the Siyee explained why she had been given this new power.

  It makes sense, I suppose, he thought. Does that mean I will be accompanying her on a journey to Si?

  Since then Danjin had met with Auraya only once or twice a day. He had no knowledge of the sky people, and couldn’t speak their language, and it had come as a blow to realize he was of no use to her at the moment. It had been obvious the few times he had observed her with them that she was fascinated by these winged people. And the Siyee seemed equally captivated by her.

  Little wonder, he thought. She has more in common with them than anyone else here.

  The platten drew closer to the Temple buildings. He noted that the few priests about at this early hour were engaged in the new unofficial pastime, which he had dubbed sky-gazing. Most were looking at the Tower, however. It had not taken long for people to learn that a window in Auraya’s room had been replaced with a glass door so she and her Siyee friends didn’t need to ascend to the top of the building when they wanted a little aerobatic exercise. Seeing her emerge often brought cheers from her audience.

  Thinking of the window-door in her rooms, Danjin shivered. Perhaps it was just as well she didn’t need him any more.

  Of course she still does, he told himself. But it didn’t help. Here was an opportunity to learn about one of the few peoples he knew nothing of, but he couldn’t take advantage of it because she hadn’t included him in her discussions with them.

  The platten stopped. He stepped off and thanked the driver. Priests nodded politely at him as he strode inside the Tower. He made the gesture of the circle in reply. The cage was resting at the base of the stairwell. He concentrated on his breathing as it bore him upward, keeping his mind from imagining the drop below it by recalling a verse of poetry he’d memorized, then translating it into Dunwayan. Arriving outside Auraya’s rooms, he stepped out and knocked on her door.

  She answered it herself, and greeted him with a smile. Not quite the broad grin she had worn so often in the last two weeks, but a more subdued expression. He wondered what had tempered her recent high spirits.

  “Come in,” she said, directing him to a chair. As she sat down he cast a quick look at the windows. To his relief, the glass “door” was closed.

  “I know you’re disappointed that you haven’t seen more of the Siyee ambassadors,” she told him. “They may appear bold and confident, but in truth they find us landwalkers intimidating—especially as most of their experiences of us are as invaders and murderers. I’ve tried to keep the number of landwalkers around them to a minimum.”

  As she spoke, a furry bundle on a nearby chair uncurled. Mischief blinked sleepily at them, then stretched, crept onto Auraya’s lap and curled up again. Auraya didn’t appear to notice.

  “I was hoping to make it up to you by bringing you along, but I’m afraid that isn’t going to be possible now.”

  “Bringing me along?”

  A now-familiar sparkle entered her gaze. “To Si. To enter into negotiations for an alliance. Juran sent them a proposal months ago, and they want one of us to return with them to Si.” Her smile faded. “But the journey would take months, and involves crossing difficult terrain. You would have to climb mountains to get there, Danjin. Juran has decided that I must go alone.”

  “Ah.” Danjin knew he would not be able to hide his dismay from her, so he did not bother keeping it from his face. “You’re right,” he told her. “I am disappointed. I am also concerned. In Somrey you had myself, Mairae and Dreamweaver Leiard to advise you. You are still too inexperienced, if you’ll forgive my frankness, to be tackling an alliance on your own. Can’t this wait?”

  She shook her head. “We need allies, Danjin. More than lone sorcerers may venture north from the southern continent in the future. However, I will not begin negotiations with the Siyee immediately. I will spend a few months learning all I can about them first.”

  “Then, perhaps if I left now I would arrive in time to help you negotiate.”

  “No, Danjin,” she said firmly. “I will need you here.”

  She reached under her circ, then leaned forward and opened her palm. On it rested a white ring. A priest’s ring. Danjin stared at it in surprise.

  “You honor me beyond what I deserve,” he said. “But I do not wish to join—”

  “It’s not a priest’s ring.” She smiled. “It is what we call a ‘link ring.’” Priests, as you know, can communicate with each other through their rings. They can because they are Gifted, a
nd their rings are simple things. This,” she held the white band, “is more refined and took some time to make. If I need to communicate with you I can, through this. But that is all that it can do. It cannot link you with anyone else.” She held it out to him. “Wear this, and I will be able to speak to you from Si. Don’t lose it. I only have the one.”

  He took the ring and held it up. It was plain and smooth, and he could not guess what it was made of. He slipped it onto his finger, then lifted his eyes to meet hers.

  “There is one other matter that bothers me,” he told her.

  She smiled and leaned back in her chair. “Your concern for me is heartening, Danjin, but I will be in less danger from Pentadrians in Si than anywhere else. It is a remote, sparsely populated place, difficult to traverse. The Siyee would notice and report intruders before they ventured far into their land. Why would any Pentadrian undertake such an arduous journey?”

  “To find you,” he replied.

  “They won’t know I’m there,” she told him.

  “Then…for the same reasons you’re going.”

  “The Si haven’t invited the Pentadrians into their land to negotiate an alliance as far as I or the ambassadors know. Nor have the Pentadrians approached any other lands.”

  He sighed, then nodded his head in defeat. “So how long will I be at a loose end?”

  She chuckled. “You won’t be, Danjin. I’ll be gone for only a few months—though if I’m successful Juran is considering sending me to the Elai. The courier he sent to them has not reported his progress for months.”

  “The sea people.” Danjin whistled quietly. “Soon there’ll be no mysteries left in the world.”

  A troubled expression crossed Auraya’s face, and she looked away. Mischief stirred. She looked down at him and her smile returned.

  “There’s one other matter I wanted to discuss with you, Danjin.”

  “Yes?”

  “Could you come by each day and spend some time with Mischief while I’m gone? You’ll have to be careful. He’s getting sneaky. I keep finding him crawling around on the outside of the window. I’ve had a lock installed, but he’s already learned to open it, so I’m going to have the window nailed shut while I’m away.”