Page 39

SOUL

E mryn folded her wings, gritting her teeth against the pain and reaching for her cloak. Cas draped it around her shoulders and she smiled at him, grateful.

She still needed to see if the Mother would speak to her. Still needed to know what she was to do with the favor granted to her by Her guardian bird.

But first she needed to finish taking care of the oracle. Emryn had healed her, but she was tired and Emryn helped her across the room and to her bed, tucking her in and watching as she fell asleep with a final smile at Emryn.

The attendant was outside the room, looking puzzled and worried as Emryn opened the door and stepped out with Cas and Asan in her wake. “She’s sleeping,” Emryn said quietly.

“Thank you, Highness.” The attendant brushed past her and closed the door with a quiet click.

“I think we offended her,” Emryn said to no one in particular. “I didn’t want to do that, but-”

“We need to keep it quiet for now,” Asan said quietly. “We should see the priestess and find out if we can commune with the Mother.”

Emryn nodded, looking at the corridor. “How did I get here?”

“This way.” Cas took her hand and led her back through the house’s warren. “I’ve always had a good sense of direction.”

“Odd that you don’t remember,” Asan mused.

“She was guiding me.” Emryn looked over her shoulder at Asan. “I wasn’t paying attention to where I was actually going, only to where I needed to go.”

Cas nodded. “I’ve done that a time or two.”

Emryn stumbled as a wave of pure exhaustion hit her. Cas reached to steady her, and she smiled at him. “I think I need a snack.”

“I’ll see what I can do.” They went back out to the main chapel, where they were met by the head priestess for the House, who smiled at them with a little worry in her eyes.

“My sister rests.” Emryn stepped to the fore and smiled at the priestess. “She gave me her message.”

The priestess nodded, gesturing to them. “I took the liberty of having luncheon brought. I hope it will be welcome.”

“It is very welcome.” Cas said. “Thank you, Priestess.”

“My pleasure, Highness.” The priestess turned from them and led them back into the warren, to a small room that had nothing in it but a few books, and a small round table set for four.

“I do hope you don’t mind if I join you.” The priestess said. “I have some questions regarding our oracle.”

“I’ll answer what I can,” Emryn said, sitting down at the table and trying to relax her wings without letting them be seen.

The priestess rang a bell and three under-priestesses walked in to serve lunch.

“Would it be possible to commune with the Mother after lunch?” Emryn asked quietly. “I am unbalanced and need advice.”

“I will arrange it,” the priestess said. “Is there anything I might help with?”

Emryn nodded. “I thank you, but there are certain things only the Mother might be able to tell me.”

“I understand.” The priestess nodded, watching Emryn eat for a minute. The scrutiny was uncomfortable, but Emryn was starving and found that it was simpler to ignore if she focused on her plate.

“Is there something we might answer for you, Priestess?” Cas asked, interrupting the staring. “You may ask, though I cannot promise an answer.”

“I simply-” she looked at Emryn one last time before turning her attention to Cas. “Our oracle was calling for her sister. She was an only child and it wasn’t until her attendant managed to get more details that we figured out that she was asking for the Princess.”

“Healers belong to the Mother,” Asan was the one that started talking. “In much the same way as the oracles do. It is no surprise that your oracle would consider them sisters.”

“That does make a certain variety of sense,” the priestess said. “Thank you, First Wizard.”

“My pleasure, priestess.”

It was a confused sort of silence that reigned while Emryn finished her lunch.

Laden with questions that the priestess couldn’t figure out how to ask and Emryn wasn’t sure how to address them either.

She didn’t understand what she was, who she was, and the idea that her soul was separate from her was something she was trying very hard not to dwell on.

Emryn pushed her plate away, full enough for the moment and appetite gone. “I would like to commune now, if that’s alright.”

“Yes Highness.” The priestess took her out of the little room and back up to the chapel, and then to a tiny, stone side room. “These are our communion spaces.”

“Thank you,” Emryn stepped into the room and nearly panicked when the door shut behind her.

But Cas and Asan were out there. They would protect her and who would dare to attack anyone in the Mother’s House? No, she was as safe as it was possible for one person to be and she needed to focus on contacting the Mother and then she would see if she could speak to the Guardian Bird inside her.

Emryn knelt at the foot of the stairs where the Mother’s statue was enthroned. There were no chains on the statue, simply the Mother’s likeness.

Emryn would remove the chains, as soon as she figured out how.

She bowed, touching her head to the steps. “Mother, hear me,” she whispered. “Help me, guide my steps.”

“Child,” the Mother’s voice whispered back. “My child. They are near, reach for them.”

“Who, Mother?” She knew, somehow, what the Mother meant. “How do I bring them to me?”

“They already belong to you, my child.” The Mother said. “Your Phoenix, his flame burns for you.”

“Yes, Mother.” Emryn nodded, her mind spinning far too fast. “How do I speak with your messenger, Mother? My soul? Should I free it?”

Emryn watched the Mother’s statue turn its eyes on her. “Do not.” The Mother’s voice sounded like doom. “Do not.”

“Yes Mother,” Emryn bowed again, touching her head to the steps. “I hear, I obey.”

“Go,” the Mother said before her voice faded and so did the pressure of her presence.

But Emryn had one more thing she needed to do. All healers knew how to turn inward, and she needed to see if she could find her soul.

Her mind, her conduits, all the way down to the core of her. To the depths of her fire, seeking the source.

“Emryn.” The voice rang her head like a gong. “It’s not time yet, go back.”

“But-”

“No, my heart, not yet.”