Antiphon

Rudolfo looked to her again, and Winters saw cunningness in his dark eyes. His hands moved, and she read the words quickly. Do you wish to speak to them? He’d asked during the morning, too, but she’d declined. Once more, she shook her head, and as she did, she saw Tamrys staring at her from the corner of her eye.

“You are Winteria the Younger,” she said, starting to stand. “We did not recognize you without your markings of Home-longing.” Gypsy Scouts slipped in from the edges of the room until a glance from Rudolfo and a whistle from Aedric stood them down. The other stood, too, and both bowed deeply. “We bear word to you from your sister, the Elder.”

Winters felt the blush rise to her cheeks. “I do not recognize her as my kin.”

Tamrys smiled, and it was warm, genuine even. “You do not need to as yet. These things take time.” She looked to Rudolfo. “May I approach her?”

He looked to Winters, and she wondered how wide her eyes had become even as his narrowed. He must have seen something there, because his voice was cautionary. “I’m not certain-”

Winters found her voice. “You may approach.”

Under the watchful eye of the scouts, the Machtvolk evangelist walked slowly across the room. As she did, Winters stood and faced the woman.

The woman was tall, and when she gathered Winters into her arms, Winters felt the strength of the embrace and smelled the sweat and earth and ash of the woman. She felt warm lips upon her forehead, and then the mouth moved to her ear as the voice lowered to a whisper. “Little sister,” Tamrys said, “come home to me and to joy.”

Unexpected, the words-and the love within that voice-raised goose bumps upon her skin.

Then, with the message delivered, the evangelist inclined her head and returned to her seat.

The conversation continued beyond that. Rudolfo asked questions, and the answers, circular and cryptic, followed. She heard references to schools and shrines built; to an expansion of the Machtvolk presence into what had once been Windwir; and candid discussion of evangelists moving out across the Named Lands in their robes and mud and ash, preaching their new gospel.

But gradually, the words drifted someplace out of reach to Winters. As hard as she tried to, she could not escape that whispered voice and that firm embrace.

Little sister, come home to me and to joy.

And yet, this same woman-her older sister supposedly-had sent assassins out in the night to murder Hanric, the man who had raised her. And now, this new queen and her kind transformed her people into something that frightened Winters though she did not fully grasp why.

She remembered that day in the tent at the edge of spring and felt the rage washing through her as she surged forward with upraised axe. She felt shame rise to her cheeks at the memory of being so easily restrained and subdued. And she realized suddenly that she’d spent these last six months avoiding the truth of what had happened to her and how she’d responded, hiding in the basement of the new library pretending she was only a girl. Sudden tears threatened her now, and Winters felt her face grow even hotter as she resisted.

I gave up on my people.

She remembered Tertius and the nights he often read to her. One of her favorite stories had been “Jamael and the Kin-Wolves.” He’d suggested it to her one night and had then been subjected to reading it again and again to her. And one day Jamael came home from the fields to find a kin-wolf in her sheepfold.

She looked at the two women again. The light in their eyes. The deep sense of passion in their voices. How many more were out there, even now, sharing this gospel and feeding this resurgence? They had brought down Windwir to bring this faith out of the shadows. They had butchered and resurrected Petronus to create this belief. They had cut their mark over the hearts of innocent children. And they had healed Jin Li Tam and Rudolfo’s dying son with the blood of thousands.

She knew from her talks with Rudolfo and Jin Li Tam that this resurgence had been engineered, but now, for the first time, she saw that her people were also victims of this dark movement. They were being bent and twisted into the servants of this so-called Crimson Empress, and the thought of it awoke anger in her. These people were in her care, and she could not hide here and pretend otherwise.

Wolves in the fold, Jamael cried.

“Wolves in the fold,” Winters whispered softly to herself.

And as if she heard, the evangelist Tamrys paused, turned to the girl and smiled at her.

Chapter 5

Rudolfo

Rudolfo looked up as Jin Li Tam and Jakob entered the back of the room, suddenly apprehensive about the decision they had made over lunch. He looked from his wife to the two Machtvolk evangelists and last, to Winters. The girl had been quiet, and he had been unable to read the emotions that washed her face. Something had happened when the woman Tamrys had embraced her and passed on her older sister’s message.

Something to be mindful of.

His eyes locked with Jin Li Tam’s, and the shrewdness he saw there bolstered him. “Ah,” he said with a flourish, rising to his feet. “May I present the Lady Jin Li Tam, daughter of House Li Tam and queen of the Ninefold Forest. And our heir, Lord Jakob.”

The two evangelists first went very pale, then blushed as they scrambled to stand and turn.

They are surprised. Perhaps, Rudolfo thought, this is the right path after all.

They bowed deeply, and he did not need to see their faces in that moment to read the adoration written there. “G-great Mother,” Tamrys said, stammering, “this is an unforeseen honor.”

Now, the other spoke as well, and Rudolfo heard the sob catch in her throat. “And behold, the Child of Promise-hearty and hale by the grace of the Crimson Empress.”

Or by dark design and blood sacrifice. Rudolfo felt himself frowning and forced a smile to his mouth. “Please join us, Lady Tam,” he said, motioning to a chair nearby.

Jin Li Tam gave the evangelists a quick look, her face a calm mask. But underneath it, Rudolfo knew that rage seethed there. Certainly, the Y’Zirite blood magicks had saved Jakob’s life, but it had cost countless others, her sisters and brothers lost upon the cutting tables while Jin’s father was forced to watch the murder of his children and grandchildren on the island Rudolfo had rescued him from. He knew Jin’s shame, but he knew that if he had been there, holding their gray and gasping son, he too would have fallen to his knees and begged for that cure once he knew it worked. He could not fault her.

But like her, the shame of it would chew him.

Now, he admired her placid, regal tone. “Thank you, Lord Rudolfo. We would be pleased to join you.”

He waited until the women seated themselves. Their eyes kept moving to the child, adoration painted clearly upon their faces.

They truly do believe he is their Child of Promise. Rudolfo noted this and set it apart to consider later. Then, he put his attention back upon his unusual guests. “I can see that my son is important to you,” he said.

Their nods were enthusiastic, their smiles wide. “He is our promise that the Crimson Empress will soon come,” Tamrys said. “The First Gospel of Ahm Y’Zir teaches us that clearly.”

First Gospel. It piqued his curiosity. “I’m unfamiliar with it. Enlighten me.”

Tamrys’s eyes did not leave Jakob as she lowered her voice and recited it from memory. “And in the shadow of the Usurper’s Pyre, a child of great promise shall be given as light in darkness, as hope in despair, and he shall make straight the arrival of his Crimson Empress as a bridegroom prepares for the feast.” She glanced back to Rudolfo. “There are other passages,” she said. “I would be happy to share them with you.”

Rudolfo smiled. “Perhaps later.” Then, he leaned forward. “As you can imagine, Jakob’s safety is of great importance to me. I’ve word from your queen that he is in danger and that her ambassador approaches even now.