Voice of the Gods

“And if we bring her here and she can’t?” Mikmer asked.

“No harm done.”

“Unless she learns something of the Scroll from us,” Yathyir warned.

“She won’t learn anything we don’t want her to. She only has to try to read the bones.”

“And if she understands them she’ll know what we’re after,” Barmonia said. “We can’t risk that.”

“Why not? What can she do with that information?”

“She might find it herself.”

“Not if we invite her to join us.”

“Join us!” Barmonia exclaimed. “We’re not working with some foreign flit.”

“She’ll steal the credit from us,” Mikmer agreed.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Kereon said, gaining a look of surprise from Barmonia. “Who would believe her? Nobody.” He leaned forward, mostly toward Barmonia. “If she can help us, we invite her in. She’ll accept because she won’t get to see our other artifacts or learn what we know unless she does. When we find out where the Scroll is, her part in it ends.”

Barmonia’s eyes had taken on a gleam of interest.

“She won’t tell us what the bones say unless we take her with us.”

“If she’s clever. Even so, once we have the Scroll we won’t have to give her anything. Certainly not any credit.” Kereon smiled. “Do you really think anyone will believe she had anything to do with finding it, except cooking for us?”

Barmonia sat back and shook his head. “No. Very well. Bring her in.”

Kereon looked at Ray. “She’ll be suspicious if anyone but you approaches her.”

Ray nodded. “I’ll find her. I can’t guarantee that I can persuade her to join us after the way you all treated her the other day, but I’ll try.” He narrowed his eyes at Barmonia. “You’ll have the hardest challenge.”

“Putting up with her,” Yathyir said, nodding.

“No,” Ray replied. “Remembering what manners are.”

As the others grimaced or rolled their eyes, Ray considered how he was going to persuade Emmea to cooperate. He had no illusions that the others would even attempt to be civil. If the woman was going to spend any length of time helping them, she’d need a friend who sympathized with her.

Or more than a friend, he thought. I’m sure she was flirting with me the other day, though probably only in order to gain my help. She’s not young, but she’s still attractive despite her age. Besides, they say older women can be very “educational...”

The news had come like a chill wind, whipping its way through corridors and halls to every corner of the Sanctuary. Servants and domestics alike had been in a fervor of excitement and terror since.

Auraya is here! they whispered. Nekaun has brought an ex-White into the Sanctuary! The one that can fly! The one that killed Kuar!

Kikarn had told Reivan in the morning, between a trader protesting against the limitation to his imports and a cousin of the new Dekkan High Chieftain delivering a generous donation from his family. Reivan had thought of Imenja first. Her mistress had respected the former First Voice and had grieved his death. What would she think of Kuar’s killer walking freely in the Sanctuary?

Reivan half expected to be summoned, but no mental call came through the pendant until the evening. As she continued to work, she found herself wondering if she might encounter Auraya on her way to meet Imenja. The idea didn’t appeal to her. By the time she was free to leave she was dreading the walk up to the Upper Sanctuary. It seemed longer than usual, but all she encountered were other Servants from whom she heard tantalizing snatches of conversation.

She found Imenja in a dark mood.

“So you’ve heard about our special guest,” her mistress said as soon as she saw Reivan, rising to look out of the window at the lights of the city. “I suppose the news has spread through the city by now. Nekaun has decided to play host to the enemy.”

“She’s not one of the White any more,” Reivan reminded her.

“No. But still a Circlian priestess.”

Moving to the other side of the window, Reivan watched Imenja’s face closely. “Does Nekaun hope to change that?”

Imenja scowled. “I can see no other reason.”

Reivan frowned. “How did he persuade her to... ah, the Siyee.”

“Yes. He has promised to release one every day she remains here.”

“Nothing more?”

“I suppose he could have threatened to torture or kill them,” Imenja muttered. “But even he has enough sense to realize that would hardly persuade her to join us.”

“I meant: was staying here all he asked from her?”

Imenja’s lips pressed into a thin smile. “Yes. I doubt she would have agreed to join us in exchange for their release. No, he’ll have to woo her, and she knows it. His greatest challenge. A seduction worthy of...” She paused and grimaced apologetically. “I’m sorry. Those words were badly chosen.”

Looking away, Reivan tried to push aside the tight, uncomfortable feeling that had gripped her. She had hoped Nekaun would visit her last night, now that he had returned, but her bed had remained empty.

It’s only one night, she told herself.

He was busy planning his seduction of Auraya, a dark voice in the back of her mind added.

“Tonight there will be a great feast for her. We’re not invited. He doesn’t want to surround her with powerful sorcerers in case she feels threatened.”

“I suppose you’ll get to meet her eventually.”

Imenja nodded, then her eyes sharpened. She pointed out of the window. “There she is now.”

Reivan turned and looked in the direction Imenja had indicated. A movement in a courtyard a few levels down caught her eye. Two people walked across the pavement and stopped in a pool of light cast by a lamp: one male in black robes, one female in the white clothes of a Circlian priestess. Underneath the strange overgarment, she was wearing a short tunic.

And trousers, Reivan noted. How strange.

The pair moved to the fountain. It was the one Imi, the Elai princess, had recovered in during her stay. As Auraya turned to look up at the statue Reivan had a good view of her face. She felt her heart sink.

Even from here she is beautiful and exotic. She reluctantly made herself read the messages in Nekaun’s stance. It brought the word “seduction” back to her mind. His appearance of intense interest in Auraya might simply be an act for the White’s benefit, but it was a convincing one.

Too convincing?

She shook her head and turned her mind to more practical matters.

“What will happen if he succeeds in his seduction? Will we go to war again?”

Imenja made a low noise. “I hope not.”

“It is possible,” Reivan said to herself. “Or he might simply be removing an advantage the White have over us.”

“And gaining it for ourselves.” Imenja looked thoughtful.

“Just in case the White have ideas about invading.” She paused and looked at Imenja. “Do they?”

“I’d have thought not, if not for the Siyee attacking Klaff. It would make sense to kill off the birds if they were planning to wage war against us.” Imenja crossed her arms. “The Siyee believe their action was retribution.”

“For what?”

“A failed plot. Not mine.”

Reivan smiled at the wary tone in Imenja’s voice. Obviously this plot was yet another one her mistress could not discuss. She looked down at the courtyard again. Auraya gestured toward the pool. Suddenly something jumped out of the woman’s bag and onto the pool edge.