Priestess of the White

“No,” Dyara replied. She looked thoughtful. “But your friend trusts you. It was a bold move, making him your adviser. I thought it unwise, but it has proved to be quite beneficial.”

Auraya stared at Dyara in amazement, then looked away. Was this approval? From Dyara? Over befriending a Dreamweaver?

Dyara halted at the door to Auraya’s rooms. “Good night, Auraya. I will see you at the farewell tomorrow.”

“Good night,” Auraya replied. “And... thank you.”

Dyara smiled, then turned away to continue up the stairs. As Auraya entered her rooms, she considered Dyara’s words.

“But your friend trusts you.”

She hadn’t had a chance to speak to Leiard in the last few days. Tomorrow she would be leaving early. No chance to see him one last time.

Then tonight is my only chance to say goodbye.

She frowned. It was late. Too late to send for him. She couldn’t send someone to wake him up and bring him to the Tower only to spend five minutes with him before sending him home again.

Would he really mind? She pursed her lips. What was worse: dragging him up here in the middle of the night, or not saying goodbye?

Smiling to herself, she closed her eyes and sought the mind of the priest on night duty below. After giving him her instructions, she sat down to wait.

This time tomorrow I’ll be sleeping in a village Temple somewhere. She glanced around the room. Everything looked as it always did. There was no trunk of belongings, just a small pack containing spare white clothing and some gifts for the Siyee. Everything she needed would be given to her by the priests and priestesses of the Temples she stayed in.

Once she entered the mountains there would be no more Temples. The Siyee had assured her that all her needs could be met in their land. They would supply her with all the objects of a civilized culture, such as paper and ink, which they made themselves. She would be given a “bower” of her own to stay in.

Standing up, she walked to the window and looked down. The Dome was a shadowed expanse, ringed by lanterns. A few priests and servants hurried about their business. The city below was a scattering of lights in a sea of black.

A tarn entered the Temple loaded with healer priests. Auraya watched two platten arrive, then felt her heartbeat quicken as she saw another pass under the arch bearing a single occupant. Even from so far above, she recognized Leiard. His white hair and beard stood out despite the distance. As the platten approached, he looked up. She found herself smiling, even though she knew he could not see her.

Moving away from the window, she began pacing the room. Would he mind that she’d called him here? Suddenly her purpose for doing so - just to say goodbye - seemed silly. She could have sent a note instead. She could have visited him... No, that would have disturbed the whole household of the people he was staying with.

Well, there’s nothing to be done about it now, she decided. I’ll apologize, say goodbye, then send him home. By the time I return to Jarime he’ll have forgiven me.

She paced the room. What was taking him so long? Perhaps she had been mistaken. She moved to the window.

I could question the priest on duty...

She froze as a light tapping came from the door, then let her breath out in a rush.

He’s here.

Smoothing her circ, she strode to the door and opened it. Leiard regarded her with wary expectation.

“Leiard. Come in.” She ushered him inside. “Sorry about the late hour. I haven’t had a moment to myself, and no time to see you as I promised. I’m leaving tomorrow. I couldn’t go without saying goodbye.”

He nodded slowly, and she was pleased to see he was not annoyed, only relieved. It dawned on her, then, that by calling him here so late she had caused him to wonder if something was wrong. Why hadn’t she foreseen that?

“I guess I should have just sent a message,” she added ruefully. “Rather than wake you up.”

His lips twitched into a slight smile. “I don’t mind.”

“I don’t just need to say goodbye. I need to thank you.” She paused, then reached for his hand. He hesitated, then lifted his hand to hers. Their fingers met. She drew breath to speak, but stopped as she met his eyes. His expression was tight and wary, as if he was struggling to control some emotion. She looked closer. His thoughts were in turmoil. Her touch had roused...

She felt heat rush through her body. Her touch had aroused him. He was struggling to suppress desire for her.

I hadn’t realized his admiration was so... but I guess it wasn’t or I would have seen it in his mind. This is something new. This has happened tonight. Now.

Her heart was racing. Her own body had reacted to his desire. She felt a smile pull at her lips. I desire him. Now we’ve both discovered something.

She was conscious of the tense silence between them. The only sound was their breathing. Neither of them had moved. His gaze hadn’t left hers. We should step away from each other and pretend this never happened. Instead, she reached out and touched his cheek, then traced a finger across his lips. He didn’t move away, but neither did he return the caress. She read hesitation in his thoughts.

This decision has to be mine, she realized. He cannot forget who we are. Only I can make this choice.

She smiled and lifted her lips to his. He returned her kiss gently, sending a shiver down her spine. Then they both moved together, reaching out to the other. She kissed him firmly and he responded with equal hunger and passion. Their bodies collided; she grasped his vest and pulled him close against her. His hands slid around her back, but his touch was dulled by the thickness of her circ.

Vest. Circ. Reminders of who they were. She didn’t want to be reminded. Not now. These reminders must go.

She laughed quietly. This is not like me, she thought. Leiard’s lips left her mouth and he began kissing her throat, and then her neck, his lips hot and firm. This is not like him either. She was discovering a side of him she had never suspected existed.

And I like it. She chuckled. Winding her arms around his waist, she backed toward the door to her private rooms.

Emerahl smiled and ran her hands over her body.

It worked.

But of course it had. She had never botched the change. Mirar had told her long ago that her ability to change her body was an innate Gift. He had a theory that all Wilds had a Gift that came naturally. Like musical ability came to those with true talent. Hers was the ability to change her physical age.

Opening her eyes, she saw only darkness. The air was growing stuffy rapidly. Once she had roused from the death trance, she had created small tunnels to let air into the box. They weren’t enough now that she had brought her body out of the slowed state necessary to change her appearance, and she was breathing at a normal rate.

She grimaced. A death trance was never pleasant, but it had been essential to fool the children and had allowed her to survive being buried underground. She did not know how many days had passed, but one thing was sure: she had to get out of her coffin soon or she would suffocate.

She was not sure where the children had buried her, however. If they, or anyone else, saw her dig her way out of her grave, the story of it would spread faster than a winter cough, perhaps alerting the priest to her change of appearance. She would have to be careful.

Closing her eyes, she sent her mind out and was pleased when she managed to sense the emotions of others nearby. It was not easy sorting through them, but she recognized the sleepy thoughts of children. She cursed. They were somewhere close by. She would have to be quiet.