Priestess of the White

He did not answer. She looked away. “Only way you’ll get anything out of me.”

“All right. But no weird stuff. I’m not going anywhere with you but the market.”

So she followed him to the local, smaller market and bought him some fruit and bread, and treated them both to thin pastry pockets full of freshly grilled meat. She noted him slipping the last few bites into a pocket, and guessed his story of a sister was true.

“For that cough,” she said, “you and your sister need a bit of this.” She purchased some decongestant from a herbalist after smelling it critically to see if it did contain the herbs it claimed to. “A spoonful of this three times a day. No more, or you’ll poison yourselves.”

He stared at her as he took the bottle. “Thanks.”

“Now, you can do me a small favor in return.” He scowled. “Don’t worry. No weird stuff. I just want some advice. I need a place to stay for a few days. Somewhere cheap. And quiet, if you know what I mean.”

That night she found herself the guest of a small gang of children living in the basement of a burned-out house on the outskirts of the poor quarter. She found that Rayo, the boy she had helped, did have a sister ill with a serious chest infection, so she brought out her own cures to treat the illness more aggressively.

It did not take long for news of the priests’ search for an old healer woman to reach the children. They confronted her with the news and their suspicions the next day.

“The city’s all stirred up. The priests are looking for a sor’sress,” a younger boy, Tiro, said.

“An old woman. Like you,” a girl, Gae, added.

Emerahl grunted. “So I heard. Priests think every old woman is a sorceress, especially if she knows a bit about herbs and things.” She pointed a bony finger at them. “They’re just jealous, you see, because we know more than they do about cures.”

“But that’s stupid,” Rayo said. “You’re old. You’ll be dead soon.”

She looked at the boy reproachfully. “Thanks for reminding me.” Then she sighed. “It is stupid. Like you said, what can we do, eh? Nothing but put up with them roughing us up.”

“They done that to you?” Tiro asked.

She sighed and nodded, pointing at a rip in the seam of her tawl. “Chose a fine time to get turned out of my house, didn’t I?”

“Then you not the sor’sress. You safe,” Gae assured her.

Emerahl looked at the girl sadly. “Depends if they find what they’re looking for. If they don’t, they’ll just keep hassling us. Or they might take someone and put the blame on her rather than admit they lost the one they’re after.”

“We’re not going to let that happen,” Rayo told her firmly.

She smiled. “You’re all too good to me, letting me stay here.”

The children didn’t seem to mind that the few days she had said she would stay turned into a week, then two. She gave them things of hers to sell. They brought back food and even a little cheap firewater, and occasionally spied on the priests so she would know when the search ended.

“I o’erheard two of ‘em,” Tiro told her breathlessly one night. “They were talking of the higher priest who d’recting the search. Ikaro’s his name. They said he c’municates with the gods, and he been giv’n the ’bility to read minds.”

“So they haven’t found her yet?” she asked.

“Don’t think so.”

Emerahl sighed, but her dismay was more to do with the news of her pursuer’s abilities.

Of course, the people Tiro had overheard might be so in awe of their superior that they believed any rumor that came their way. However, she could not take the risk that it was true. Any priest who tried to read her mind would see nothing. It took considerable magical ability to master the Gift of hiding one’s mind. He might not know this, but she wasn’t intending to find out.

According to the children, anyone leaving the city by boat, tarn, platten or foot was being watched by priests. Even the secret ways of the underworld were being watched. All old women were being taken to the high priest to be examined. The Circlians were putting a lot of effort into finding her. If they had guessed who she was, the gods would be peering through every priest’s eyes, looking for her. And if they found her...

She shivered. They’ll kill me, just as they killed Mirar, The Oracle and The Farmer, and probably The Twins and The Gull, though I never heard reports of their deaths.

It was tempting to simply stay put and wait it out. The priests couldn’t keep this up forever. They would try a few other ploys before they gave up, however. She expected a reward would be offered soon. When that happened she could no longer be sure of the children’s loyalty. They were friendly, but they were not stupid. If the price was big enough she knew they would sell her with barely a second thought. She was, after all, just an old woman.

Nobody was safe company now. What she ought to do was change her appearance, and it would have to be more than a change of clothing and hair color. She needed something much more dramatic.

Such a change was not beyond her abilities, but the thought filled her with trepidation. It had been a long time since she’d practiced this Gift. A lot could go wrong. She needed time - perhaps a few days - in which to make the change, and she must not be interrupted as she worked.

The children could not know, of course. It would be better if they never saw her new form - or even knew she had adopted one. Getting away from them would not be easy, however. Even if she came up with a plausible excuse, where was she to go?

But perhaps she would not have to leave. A lot of her problems would be solved if they believed that she had died.

15

Danjin had spent most of the last two weeks in a constant state of awe and wonder. He was not the only person to experience this, though he believed he was one of the few who had managed to keep their wits despite everything that had happened. Most of the priests either walked about in a daze or could be heard gushing out praise for the gods or speculating on what wonders might still be in store for them all.

As his platten bore him through the archway into the Temple, Danjin considered the events that had brought this about.

The first revelation had been Auraya’s return. Neither ship nor platten had brought her back to the city. Instead, she had flown into the Temple like a great white wingless bird. Dyara’s arrival had been considerably quieter, he had been told by a servant. She had returned on the Bearer she had ridden out on, looking “as if she had a lot to think about.”

The second revelation had been less pleasant. Auraya had told Danjin of her confrontation with the Pentadrian sorcerer and that the discovery of her new Gift came only as a result of her defeat. This information was to remain a secret, however. The White did not want to cause unnecessary fear among the people by making it known that the Pentadrians had a sorcerer of such strength he had overcome one of the White.

Danjin hadn’t grown used to the idea that the woman he worked for could perform aerobatics that even birds could not achieve. After the Siyee ambassadors arrived he noticed a subtle change in the other White’s behavior toward Auraya, as if the appearance of the Siyee explained why she had been given this new power.

It makes sense, I suppose, he thought. Does that mean I will be accompanying her on a journey to Si?

Since then Danjin had met with Auraya only once or twice a day. He had no knowledge of the sky people, and couldn’t speak their language, and it had come as a blow to realize he was of no use to her at the moment. It had been obvious the few times he had observed her with them that she was fascinated by these winged people. And the Siyee seemed equally captivated by her.

Little wonder, he thought. She has more in common with them than anyone else here.

The platten drew closer to the Temple buildings. He noted that the few priests about at this early hour were