Yes, thought Pelagia. She can sense it too.
Interference.
The High Oracle watched Sister Kara, the young novice rising and falling, rising and falling on her knees. Pelagia felt Sister Hathena’s veiled eyes on her, and suspected that any fear she had sensed earlier was now gone. In its place, she thought she could feel a growing anger as Hathena realized Pelagia’s plan.
Yes, she knew she had broken all protocol and tradition by selecting Kara to read the prophecy. And yes, she also knew there were reasons why such traditions existed. The Ritual of Prophecy was not just difficult; it was potentially dangerous for the untrained. Without such training—years of it—the naked mind could wander far into thelabyrinth of the Void, following visions and songs that came not from the depths of the future, but from the depths of the prophet’s own subconscious.
Without such training, a mind could get lost forever.
Pelagia knew it was a risk. So did the others. But what the others didn’t know was that the risk was worth it. The future of the Order was at stake. And Pelagia Themis was the High Oracle, and the High Oracle’s word was the law.
She pushed the guilt away, ignored Sister Hathena’s stare, and focused on the disciplines of the Oracular Order, reciting the Seven Strictures to herself to clear her senses. Then, her emotions back under control, Pelagia lifted her chin and spoke, the first sounds recorded on Sister Beatris’s audiograph in many, many hours.
“Tell us, Sister,” said Pelagia quietly. “Tell us, child. Tell us what you see. Let the Prophecy speak through you. Let the future become clear in the eye of your mind.”
Kara opened her eyes. Pelagia could see the girl’s eyes through her red veil—they were glazed, unfocused. Kara had done it, finally.
Kara shuddered. “I see… I see…”
Kara gasped. Two other Sisters in the circle jumped, but Pelagia ignored them. Hathena hadn’t taken her eyes off the High Oracle.
“Tell us, Sister,” said Pelagia. “Divine the prophecy and let it be known to us all.”
“I see…”
“Speak, Kara, speak.”
Kara gasped again, rising up on her knees. Now Sister Beatris exchanged a glance with Sister Hathena, Beatris’s thumb hovering over the audiograph lever. Pelagia didn’t take her eyes from the dais, but she waved at the Sister.
“Let the recording continue, Beatris. We are close. We are very close.”
“Oracle,” said Hathena, turning on her cushion. “Oracle, this is not right. We must stop.”
Pelagia hissed, ignoring her. She rose up onto her knees to address the novice on the dais.
“Kara, speak! Tell us what you read, Sister.”
Kara gasped a third time, then dropped onto her cushion, her legs folded awkwardly under her. She turned her head, twisting it sideways like a hound listening for its master’s voice. Pelagia watched as the muscles at the back of Kara’s jaw bunched as the young novice ground her teeth. Kara began to pound her fists into her legs, blood trickling from between her clenched fingers as her nails dug deep into her palms.
“Focus, Kara. Focus!”
Hathena shook her head and stood up, clearly unconcerned with breaking protocol. “High Oracle—Pelagia—stop this! Stop this. Now.”
Pelagia stood. “Kara, hear me—”
That was when Kara screamed. Then she stood, and…
And she laughed.
“I see it!” Kara lifted her arms up, her face split by a wide grin. “I can see it!”
By now the other four Sisters, until then as still and as silent as the black marble slabs behind them, became restless, first looking at each other, then at the High Oracle, then back at their Sister on the dais.
“Tell us, Sister!” said Pelagia. “Read the prophecy.”
“I…” Kara lowered her arms and bent her head again. She leaned forward, craning her back, twisting her neck around. “I see… I see…”
“Tell us.”
“I see shadows,” Kara said, her voice now a harsh, sibilant whisper. “Many shadows, blue and dark. I see light, blue and bright. I see… there is a path, a way forward, butit is blocked. There is a curtain. A veil. A veil of blue. The veil… it moves. I can see… hands? I can see hands. There are many hands. They move behind the veil. Pushing. Clawing. Pulling at the veil, reaching out, reaching out…”
“Yes, Kara,” said Pelagia. “Reaching out. Reaching for you! Go to them, Kara. Go to them!”
“Oracle!” Hathena broke the circle, walking over to Pelagia and looking down at her. “Pelagia, there is heresy at work. I felt it! Stop this, before Kara is lost.”
Pelagia paid no heed. On the dais, Kara twisted on her cushion, rising and falling, her breathing becoming faster, shallower. She clenched and unclenched her hands, smearing the white of her tunic with blood.
“I see a veil… I see a veil… I see a veil. The hands that reach… The hands that reach…”
A thin line of blood spilled from Kara’s nose. She didn’t appear to notice as the blood ran down, around her mouth, staining her top teeth.
Hathena spun around. Before Pelagia could stop her, the Sister had stepped up onto the dais in front of Kara. The novice didn’t seem to notice she was there, she just kept bobbing and weaving.
“I see a veil… I see a veil. The many hands!”
Hathena knelt down so she was on the same level as Kara and grabbed the novice’s wrists. She pulled Kara’s hands toward her, but Kara fought against her, the two women locked together in what looked to be an equal struggle. Finally Hathena let go and fell back down the dais steps, landing in front of Beatris, knocking the horn of the audiograph recorder. She pushed herself up on her hands.
“Kara, listen to me! Find the path and come back to us! There is no prophecy. Come back and rejoin your Sisters.”
“The many hands… The many hands… The blue light that is blue…”
Hathena stood and, tearing the red veil from her face, she turned, looking around the circle.
“What’s the matter with you all? Will nobody help me?”
The others exchanged glances but
