Priestess of the White

by Trudi Canavan

  And Mairae? She was avoiding Danjin. For someone whose role was to be approachable when the other White were busy, she was amazingly effective at this.

  He looked down at the cage beside him. Even Mischief wasn’t inclined to talk. He’d entered his cage without protest, as if he hoped good behavior would bring back his mistress.

  Or had his kidnapping frightened him out of roaming around the camp? Danjin felt a pang of sympathy for the veez. After Auraya had left, Mischief had curled up in Danjin’s lap. He hadn’t slept; he’d huddled there for hours, staring at his surroundings and starting at the slightest noise.

  “Can you keep a secret?”

  Danjin jumped at the quiet, familiar voice behind him. Recognizing it, he turned to stare at Mairae in surprise. She looked more serious than he had ever seen her appear before.

  “Would Dyara have hired me if I could not?” he replied.

  She moved to his side and looked down at Mischief.

  “It was a bit mean having him taken, but we didn’t have time to think of anything else,” Mairae murmured. She met his eyes. “All I can say is it wasn’t my idea.”

  Danjin stared back at her. “Mischief? He was a diversion, wasn’t he? To keep me away from the war council.”

  She shrugged non committally. Or my guess is not quite right.

  “And Auraya. It was to keep me away from Auraya.”

  Her chin dropped slightly in a subtle nod.

  Why? He had his suspicions, but he made himself consider other reasons. Either they wanted to conceal something from me, or prevent me from telling Auraya something. If they wanted to conceal something from me there was no need for deception. They only had to ask me to leave the war council. There was no need to have Mischief abducted.

  So it is more likely they wanted to prevent me telling Auraya something. Or prevent Auraya reading my mind. Foremost in my mind had been Mairae’s suggestion that Auraya had a lover.

  He drew in a deep breath. “So. Is it true? Were my suspicions right?”

  Mairae smiled crookedly. “I thought you believed they were just friends?”

  “So they weren’t?”

  Her smile faded. “No. This you must swear to tell no other.”

  “I swear I will not.”

  Auraya and Leiard. Why hadn’t I seen it? Did I so badly need to believe her judgment was faultless that I could not see what I didn’t want to see?

  Mairae looked away and sighed. “I feel for her. One can’t force the heart to choose wisely. It has a way of choosing for itself. Juran sent him away. It’ll take a while before she forgives Juran, I think.”

  “Where is she?”

  She turned to regard him. “We don’t know. She refuses to answer our calls. I believe she isn’t far away. She will return when the war begins, if not earlier.”

  “Of course,” he agreed. For some reason saying it aloud made him feel better. She would come back. Perhaps only at the last moment, perhaps full of accusations, but she would come back.

  Mairae chuckled. “Don’t blame yourself, Danjin Spear. If anyone is to blame for this it is me, not the least for urging you to consider who Auraya might be visiting. I think you have to agree that separating them will be for the best. For her and Northern Ithania.”

  He nodded. She was right, yet he couldn’t help feeling a fatherly disappointment in Auraya. Of all the men of the world, she couldn’t have chosen a more inappropriate lover. Leiard, too, should have seen the consequences of their affair and ended it.

  His respect for the Dreamweaver had diminished. Apparently even wise heathen healers can be fools in the face of love, he thought wryly.

  The servant was now packing the last of Auraya’s tent and belongings onto a tarn. As the man turned to regard them expectantly, Mairae took a step away from Danjin.

  “I’m glad we talked about this,” she said. “Take good care of Mischief. We should reach the pass tonight. I’ll see you in the war-council tent.”

  He made the sign of the circle, then watched her stride away. When she moved out of sight he picked up Mischief’s cage, told the servants to join the procession and started toward the advisers’ tarn.

  Auraya paced.

  The grass she was trampling grew on a stony ledge that ran along the steep side of a valley. The valley ran roughly parallel to the one the east–west road followed in order to reach the pass. She imagined explorers of ancient times wasting days following this valley in the hope of crossing the range. They would have been sorely disappointed when they reached the sheer cliffs and difficult terrain at the end. A climber might have managed to cross the mountains from here, but no ordinary traveller and certainly no platten or tarn could have.

  She ought to be in the next valley, not here.

  Why can’t I bring myself to return? Juran’s not responsible for Leiard’s faithlessness. Even if he was, I can’t punish the whole of Northern Ithania for his actions.

  Yet she couldn’t bring herself to rejoin the army. At first it had seemed reasonable and sensible to spend a few hours alone. Her mind was a whirling mess of anger, pain and guilt and she was afraid that if she returned she would either scream her anger at Juran or turn into a tearful mess. She needed to get a grip on herself first.

  Those hours had turned into a day, and the day into three. Every time she thought she had regained control of her feelings and started flying toward the pass, she soon found herself reversing direction again. The first time it was seeing the Dreamweavers in the distance that had caused her to veer away; the next it was a caravan of whores. Last night it had been nothing but the thought of facing Juran again. All brought up intense feelings that she was not sure she could keep hidden.

  They’ll reach the pass tonight, she thought. I’ll rejoin them then. Perhaps I’ll simply be there when they arrive. Yes, they’ll be too relieved to have reached their destination to pay much attention to me.

  She sighed and shook her head. This shouldn’t be happening. It wouldn’t be happening if it weren’t for Juran. Perhaps she ought to be grateful to him, as his actions had caused her to see Leiard’s true nature.

  It was like looking into the mind of a different person, she thought, shaking her head. I thought I knew him so well. I thought having a mind-reading Gift meant nobody could deceive me. Obviously that isn’t true.

  She’d always sensed something mysterious about Leiard. He had hidden depths, she’d told herself. She’d attributed this difference between Leiard’s mind and the mind of ordinary people or other Dreamweavers to the link memories he had. Now she knew that there was more to it. She knew he was capable of hiding a part of himself from her.

  Leiard had told her the link memories sometimes manifested as another mind within his own. He had even told her this shadow of Mirar didn’t like her, but she had never sensed this other personality. Never heard it speak.

  She had to accept that she might not have been able to. The trouble was, if Leiard was capable of hiding a part of himself, he also might be capable of lying to her. It was possible this notion of another personality in his mind was simply an explanation he hoped she’d believe if she ever sensed his true feelings.

  She groaned. This is going nowhere! I’ve been tormenting myself about it for days. If I could just think about something else…

  Looking around, she considered her surroundings. The ledge continued to her left and right. Some time in the distant past the surface of the slope had slipped downward, leaving rock exposed and a ledge that ran down to the valley floor in one direction and up toward the peaks in the other. Most of the ledge was hidden behind trees and plants, but with the vegetation cleared and the surface levelled it could easily become a narrow road.

  Maybe it was an old abandoned road. A road to where? Curiosity aroused, she decided to follow it. She made her way through the trees and vegetation choking the ledge. After a few hundred strides the path ended. A steep slope fell to the valley floor on one side. The wall on her right was a jumble of rocks, half h
idden behind grasses that had grown in the soil between them.

  She turned to retrace her steps, and froze in surprise.

  A glowing figure stood a few feet away. Tall and strong, but not heavily built, he was the picture of athletic maleness. His perfect masculine mouth curled up into a smile.

  :Auraya.

  “Chaia!”

  She dropped to the ground, heart racing. I left it too long. I should have returned sooner. Suddenly her self-pity seemed foolish. Selfish. She felt ashamed of herself. She had forgotten her duty to the gods and their patience had run out…

  :Not yet, Auraya. But it is time you forgave yourself and your fellow White. Rise and face me.

  She climbed to her feet, but kept her eyes downcast.

  :Do not be ashamed of your feelings. You are but a human, and a young human at that. You have an empathy for those not like yourself. It is only natural that your empathy can become love.

  He moved closer, then reached a hand toward her face. As his fingers met her cheek she felt a tingling sensation. There was no sense of pressure. He was insubstantial. His touch was the touch of pure magic.

  :We know you have not abandoned your people. You should not linger here alone any longer, however. You are in danger and I would not like to see any harm come to you.

  He stepped close. She looked up at him and felt sadness and anger slip away. There was only room for awe. He smiled as a parent might smile at a child, with indulgent affection. Then he leaned down and brushed his lips against hers.

  And vanished.

  She gasped and took two steps backward. He kissed me! Chaia kissed me! She touched her lips. The memory of the sensation was strong. What does it mean?

  The kiss of a god could not be the same as the kiss of a mortal. She remembered how he had smiled at her like a parent amused by a child. That was how she must appear to him. A child.

  And parents don’t kiss their children when they are angry, she reminded herself. They kiss to comfort and to convey their love. That must be it.

  Smiling, she moved to the end of the ledge. It was time to go. Time to return to the army. Drawing magic, she sent herself upward. The valley shrank beneath her. She turned to fly in the direction of the pass.

  A rumble brought her attention back to the ground. Dust was wafting up from the rocks below. Then grass, soil and rocks began to stir. Chaia’s words echoed in her mind.

  You should not linger here alone any longer, however. You are in danger…

  If she was in danger, then whatever was happening was enough to threaten even a powerful sorceress. She felt a flash of fear, but it was followed by an equally strong surge of curiosity. Stopping in midair, she looked down. The rocks were now tumbling down the slope into the valley. Clouds of dirt were gusting from behind them. From somewhere inside the earth, something—or someone—was about to emerge.

  She had heard tales of mountains exploding and bleeding out molten rock, causing devastation for great distances. If that was about to happen, she probably shouldn’t be hovering right above these shifting rocks. She should fly away as quickly as possible.

  The area of disturbance below her was small, however. The mountains around her showed no signs of upheaval. The only area of strangeness was the place she had been standing.

  Chaia didn’t say I had to return to the army, just that I should not linger here alone. Would I be safe if I watched from the other side of the valley?

  Moving away, she flew to a rock formation on the other ridge and looked back. She could see a cave forming as more rocks spewed out of the ground.

  Tales of great monsters living in caves under the mountains came to mind. Considering how exaggerated the tales of the Siyee were—describing them as beautiful humans with bird wings attached to their spines—it was likely those tales were as inaccurate. However, if such a beast was about to emerge, she wanted to see it.

  But I had better make sure it doesn’t see me.

  She searched the rock formation for possible hiding places, then dropped down into a shadowy crevice. It was barely wide enough for her to stand in sideways and the air within it was damp and cold, but it concealed her and gave her a view of the valley.

  A boom brought her attention back to the opposite slope. Rock and soil sprayed out of the cave. Silence and stillness followed. All vegetation around the ledge was gone. Grass, trees and creepers had been blasted away along with soil and rocks. What remained was clearly man-made.

  She saw that the rocks she had assumed were natural were stone bricks. The exposed face had been made up of collapsed walls. A massive lintel stood across the top of a gaping hole. On it she could make out a simple carved design: a pick and a shovel.

  It was the entrance of a mine.

  Her stomach sank as she recalled the possibility being discussed and dismissed in the war council that the Pentadrians were traversing the mountains via mines. According to the Dunwayan ambassador the mines didn’t reach as far as Hania.

  Clearly they did. As a black-robed figure emerged from the darkness, star-shaped pendant glittering, she began to understand how badly she and her fellow White had underestimated their enemy. The sorcerer’s face tilted up to greet the sunlight and Auraya went cold all over. It was the one who had attacked and defeated her months before. Kuar.

  She sought a familiar mind.

  :Juran?

  The response was immediate.

  :Auraya! Where are you?

  :Here.

  As she let him see what she was watching, more of the Pentadrians began to emerge. They blinked in the sunlight as their leader moved out onto the ledge. She could see now that the dirt had been swept away to expose large squares of flat stone—paving.

  The black sorcerer reached the edge and looked down the steep slope. He held his hands out, palms down. Grass and soil flew into the air, slowly revealing a steep staircase leading to the valley floor. When the entire flight was clear, the Pentadrian leader stepped aside and his followers began to descend.

  :Where are you? Juran repeated, his question more alarmed than accusing this time.

  :A valley running parallel to the one you are following. Let me show you. She sent him what she remembered of the view from above.

  :How far are they from the mouth of the valley?

  :A day’s walk, she guessed. If they have been travelling all night they may stop now to rest.

  The sound of voices and marching feet filled the valley, and grew steadily louder as more and more Pentadrians spilled out of the mine. All looked intensely relieved. Some paused to breathe deeply and gaze up at the sun. Once on the valley floor, they stopped to wait and watch their companions emerge. Their leader remained on the ledge, smiling with obvious satisfaction.

  And well he should, Auraya thought. What he has achieved is amazing.

  :This changes everything, Juran said. We must hurry if we are to meet them. The Dunwayans will have to travel even faster in order to join us.

  :The traps they set in the pass are useless now.

  :At least they will slow or stop other Pentadrians sneaking through to bite at our heels.

  :How long will it take you to head them off? she asked.

  :A day. Maybe more. We will have to face them on the plains.

  And lose the advantage of fighting in the pass. Auraya sighed. The mass of black robes gathering in the valley below was like a steadily growing pool of ink.

  :How did you find this place?

  The question came from Dyara. Auraya could not help smiling.

  :Coincidence. I was walking along that ledge. Chaia appeared and warned me not to linger. As I left, the ground began to stir.

  :Chaia told you they were about to emerge? Juran asked.

  :No, he told me I would be in danger if I stayed where I was. I thought at first that he meant I should leave the valley, but when I saw that the disturbance was restricted to one place I decided to hide and watch.

  Another figure joined the man on the ledge. A woman this time.
She looked familiar.

  :You will be in danger if they find you, Juran told her.

  Screeching echoed out of the passage.

  :Yes, Dyara agreed. Leave now. We have seen all we need to see.

  Flapping forms spilled out of the passage. Auraya shrank deeper into her hiding place as black birds began to circle the valley.

  :I don’t think that would be wise right now, unless you don’t mind them knowing they’ve been seen.

  There was a pause.

  :Stay, then, Juran agreed. Wait until they move on.

  :And hope they don’t decide to camp for the night, Dyara added.

  The pool of black robes had become a lake. After several minutes sinuous black forms flowed out. Vorns. Auraya frowned as she watched the murderous sorcerer Rian had fought join the two on the ledge.

  Three black sorcerers. Two more to go. She could do little more than wait and watch as the rest of the Pentadrians emerged. She sensed her fellow Whites’ attention shift away. No doubt they were busy organizing their own army’s retreat down the pass road.

  Another woman and man joined the trio on the ledge. To Auraya’s relief, the pair brought no other sinister animal companions with them. The birds and vorns were bad enough. Each column of the army was made up of several hundred Pentadrian sorcerers. A hundred or so men and women wearing plain clothes and carrying heavy burdens always followed. A few robed men walked alongside them, each carrying a short whip.

  Slaves, Auraya thought, and shuddered with disgust and pity. There were no tarns and no arems. All the supplies were carried by these slaves.

  Finally the flow of people ended. As the last of the slaves descended the stairs, the five black sorcerers formed a line across the front of the ledge. The leader began to speak. His voice boomed out, but Auraya could not understand him or read his mind. She looked down at the men and women below and concentrated on their thoughts. An understanding of the words came.

  Kuar spoke of bringing truth and justice to Northern Ithania. He jeered at the Circlians for believing in dead gods. Only the new gods existed. They would soon know the truth.