Priestess of the White

“That explains why you’ve been sick all the time. I thought it must be all those spices you like in your food.”

She pulled a face.

Tryss opened his mouth to speak, but stopped as the Dreamweaver slid his hands behind Tryss’s neck. Pain shot down his body, then numbness. The Dreamweaver remained still for a long time. Slowly, feeling returned, but no pain. The Dreamweaver’s hands finally slid away and Tryss felt the man turn his attention to his other arm.

“That was... amazing,” Tryss managed.

“Keep still,” the Dreamweaver said.

Drilli shifted position to Tryss’s right side. He found he could move his arm. Lifting it, he was amazed to see there wasn’t even a scar left to mark his skin.

He was able to turn his head now, so he began to watch the Dreamweaver working. The sight of his other arm bent at a strange angle was disturbing, but as the Dreamweaver’s hands slowly moved over it, his elbow bent back in the right direction. Tryss felt a growing awe. He had heard of Dreamweavers’ legendary abilities, but nothing like this.

I was dying, he thought. And this man has done what should have been impossible: made me whole again. He has saved my life.

The Dreamweaver sat back on his heels and regarded Tryss critically. Then he rose and turned away.

“Wait.”

Tryss hauled himself to his feet. Belatedly he realized what he had done, and paused to look in wonder at his arms and body. Then he hurried after the Dreamweaver, Drilli following.

“Wait. Thank you. You’ve saved my life.”

The man’s eyes roved about. He muttered something. Tryss frowned and moved closer.

“No. Not safe there. But Jayim. No. Forget. You must leave before he returns with Arleej.” The Dreamweaver paused and his voice became thin and weak. “One more. One more.” Then he shook his head. “Enough. The sun is rising. It is time.”

The Dreamweaver was talking to himself. Were they always like this? Perhaps only when they were working. Tryss hoped so. There was something disturbing about the idea of being healed by a madman. Shaking his head sadly, Tryss returned to Drilli.

“I don’t know if he heard me. I don’t know if he can,” he told her.

She nodded, and her eyes roamed over his body. “What he did... it was amazing. Do... do you think you can fly?”

He grinned. “Let’s find out.”

She frowned with concern. “Wait. What if it’s too soon...”

But he was already running. Racing across the battlefield with his arms spread wide. He felt a light wind catch his wings and he leapt into the air.

As Drilli joined him, he whooped with joy and soared up into the sky.

* * *

After walking for an hour the White stopped on top of a low hill. Auraya looked back. Thin trails of smoke were the only clue to the camp’s location. They moved to form a wide circle.

“Chaia, Huan, Lore, Yranna, Saru,” Juran spoke. “We thank you for giving us the means to defend Northern Ithania. We thank you for protecting our people from the Pentadrian invaders.”

“We thank you,” Auraya murmured with the others.

“We have fought in your names and we have won. Now, as we face the aftermath of this battle, we need your guidance even more.”

“Guide us.”

“We ask that you appear now, so that we may ask for wisdom.”

Auraya held her breath. She could not help it, even now. A glow filled the circle. It coalesced into five figures.

All five, she thought. I haven’t seen them all together since my Choosing.

The gods’ features appeared. They were smiling. She could not help smiling too. Chaia stood facing Juran.

:We are pleased at your victory, he said. You have all done well. And Auraya... The god turned to regard her. You have surpassed even our expectations.

Auraya felt her face warming. She lowered her eyes, amused by her own embarrassment at his praise.

:What is it you wish to ask? The question came from Huan.

“We have allowed the remaining Pentadrians to surrender and return to their lands, as you instructed,” Juran told them, “but we fear the consequences of doing so.”

:The Pentadrians may regain their strength and invade again, Lore said. If they are determined to, they will. Killing this army would not stop another coming.

“Then if they invade again, perhaps we should not only drive them away, but rid the world of their cult,” Rian said.

:There may come a time when that is unavoidable. You are not yet ready for that battle, Chaia replied.

“When Auraya witnessed the Pentadrian army emerge from the mines, she saw what appeared to be a god,” Dyara said. “But that is impossible. What was it? An illusion?”

:It is not impossible, Yranna replied.

“But there are no other gods.”

:None of the old ones survived but us, Yranna agreed. But new ones can arise.

“Five of them?” Dyara asked.

:It is unlikely, Sara murmured.

“But not impossible.”

:No. Chaia looked at the other gods. We will investigate.

They nodded.

Chaia turned back to Juran.

:For now, return to Jarime and enjoy the peace you have fought so hard for. We will speak to you again soon. He glanced at Dyara, then his eyes met Auraya’s. His smile widened for a moment, before his attention moved to Rian and Mairae.

Then the five glowing figures vanished.

Juran sighed and broke the circle by moving toward Dyara. “Let’s hope they find nothing.”

“Yes,” Dyara agreed. “Though if the Pentadrians do follow real gods, they must be feeling a bit unhappy with them now. They lost.”

“Mmmm,” Juran replied. “Will they again?”

“Of course they will,” Mairae said lightly. She smiled as they all turned to regard her. “We have Auraya.”

Auraya sighed. “Will you stop saying that, Mairae? I didn’t do anything extraordinary. The Pentadrians made a mistake, that’s all.”

Mairae grinned. “The enemy is going to take back stories of the ferocious flying priestess who killed their leader.”

“I didn’t fly during the battle.”

“That hardly matters. Think what a deterrent for invasion that will be. Your name will be used to frighten children into obedience for generations.”

“How wonderful,” Auraya said dryly.

“If I don’t get some breakfast soon you’ll find out how ferocious a priestess can be,” Dyara growled.

Juran gave Dyara a bemused look. “That must be avoided at all costs. Come on, then. Let’s go home.”