Priestess of the White

Ran away? She hadn’t said that, but perhaps he had sensed in her manner that she was lying and guessed at the reason. Running away was a likely story for a young woman on the streets.

“The White are the highest of the Circlian priests and priestesses,” he explained. “The Gods’ Chosen. Juran is the first, then Dyara, Mairae, Rian, and now Auraya.”

“Ah, the Gods’ Chosen.” Emerahl hoped she had managed to hide her shock. How could Juran still be alive? The answer was obvious. Because the gods want him to be. She nodded to herself. Most likely these other White were long-lived, too. What was this White Tower? She suddenly remembered the tower dream that still occasionally bothered her. Was this the tower?

“You look... Did that make sense?”

She looked at the man sitting beside her and nodded. “Yes, it jogged my memory. Grandi taught me something like that, but I’d forgotten most of it.” She looked at him. “Can you tell me more?”

He smiled, then shook his head sadly. “I must return to my home. First I will take you back to yours.” He called instructions to the driver and the platten began to rock more rapidly. After a few minutes it slowed to a halt.

Reaching into his tunic, he drew out a wallet and silently counted out small copper coins.

“Fifty ren,” he said, handing them to her.

She hesitated. “But...”

“I know. We agreed on forty. You’re worth more than that, Emmea.”

She smiled, then impulsively leaned forward and kissed him on the lips. A brightness flared in his eyes and she felt his hand brush against her waist as she climbed out of the platten.

He’ll be back, she thought with certainty. I knew I wouldn’t be here long.

She noted that the twins had disappeared. Turning around, she waved at her night’s investment as the platten drew away. Then, with fifty ren tucked into her purse, she hurried down the alley to her room.

Tryss woke several times during the night. Each time he opened his eyes he saw only darkness. Finally, he blinked sleep away to see the palest light filtering though the walls of his parents’ bower.

He rose and dressed quietly, strapping his tools to his waist. As an afterthought, he grabbed a piece of bread on the way out and by the time he had reached the Open all that was left was the burned crust, which he tossed aside.

He stretched and warmed up carefully. If he was to test his new harness today, he did not want pulled muscles hampering his movements. As he ran through the exercises, he looked to the northern edge of the Open, but the White priestess’s bower was hidden within the shadows of the trees.

The landwalker’s presence had stirred the Siyee into a state of excitement and suspense. Everyone talked about her and the alliance offer all the time. Tryss was half sick of the subject, particularly because those people most excited by this visit by the Gods’ Chosen were those who had scoffed loudest when they heard of his harness. The people who did not believe the Siyee had anything to offer the White in return for their protection.

That’s because they’re the least intelligent of us, Drilli had said when he voiced this observation.

He smiled at the memory, then leapt into the air. Cold wind rushed over his face and chilled the membrane of his wings. Winter was drawing ever closer. Snow already dusted the highest peaks. Many of the forest trees had lost their leaves, revealing herds of the animals he intended to hunt.

My family won’t go hungry this year, he told himself.

It took him an hour to get to the cave where he now stored his new harness. He came to it by a roundabout route which would hopefully confuse anyone who might try to follow. His cousins were still gloating over their act of spite, but neither had harassed him since. His father had said something about the pair being busy with a task Speaker Sirri had set them.

Landing before the cave, Tryss hurried inside. Every time he entered and found all as it had been when he left it, he felt a surge of relief.

Not this time. A figure stood beside the harness. He froze in alarm, then felt a mix of relief and anxiety as he saw that it was Speaker Sirri.

The leader of his tribe smiled at him.

“Is it finished?”

Tryss glanced at the harness. “Almost.”

The smile faded. “So you haven’t tested it yet.”

“No.”

She looked at him thoughtfully, then beckoned.

“Sit with me, Tryss. I want to talk to you.”

As she dropped into a squat, Tryss moved to the other side of the harness and folded himself down. He watched her closely. She looked into the distance, then turned back to regard him.

“Do you think you could have this finished and working by tomorrow night?”

Tomorrow night was the night of the Gathering. The White priestess would address them. Tryss felt his pulse quicken.

“Maybe.”

“I need a definite ‘yes’ or ’no.’ ”

He took a deep breath. “Yes.”

She nodded. “Are you willing to risk demonstrating it at a Gathering this important?”

His heart was racing now. “Yes.”

She nodded again. “Then I will arrange for it to be part of the meeting. It should be timed well, if you are to impress everyone.”

“I’d be happy just to convince a few people,” he muttered.

She laughed. “Ah, but we have to convince everyone.”

“Some will never believe in it.”

She tilted her head to one side. “Do you realize that part of the reason they will not open their minds is because they fear you are right?”

He frowned. “Why? If I’m right, they can hunt. And fight.”

“And go to war. If we go to war, many of us will never return, even if the fight is won. We are not as numerous as landwalkers and do not produce as many healthy children. A victory for the White may be the final defeat for the Siyee.”

Tryss felt himself turn cold as her words sank in. If his invention enabled Siyee to go to war, and that led to the end of the Siyee, then he would be responsible for his people’s demise.

“But if we can hunt and grow crops we will be stronger,” he said slowly, thinking aloud. “We will have more healthy children. If we can defend ourselves from invaders, more of us will live to have children. When we go to war we must attack from far enough away that the enemy’s arrows can’t reach us. None of us have to die.”

Sirri chuckled. “If only that were true. We have two paths before us. Both have a price. It may be that the price is the same.” She rose. “Come to my bower late tonight and we will discuss the timing and form of your demonstration.”

“I will.” He stood up. “Thank you, Speaker Sirri.”

“If this works, all of the Siyee will thank you, Tryss.” She paused, then winked. “Not to put any pressure on you, of course.”

Then she strode out of the cave and leapt into the sky, leaving Tryss with the nagging feeling she had just done him a favor he might come to regret.

21

As the black-clothed, brown-skinned landwalker climbed carefully down the rock face, Yzzi smothered a laugh. The woman moved slowly and awkwardly, choosing her foot- and hand-holds carefully. Yet there was a