Voice of the Gods

The door opened. A tall, slender woman stood in the opening. Her hair had been set in an elaborate style and she was wearing a white tunic and circ of the finest-quality cloth. She looked elegant and poised, yet she was not beautiful, he noted. Not unattractive, either. She appeared to be older than Auraya, but only by a few years.

“Ellareen,” Dyara said. “This is Danjin Spear.”

“Come inside,” the new White responded, stepping back.

He watched her as she ushered them to chairs, then brought them glasses of water. His investigations had revealed that she was originally from Somrey. Her father had been employed by a wealthy trader and her family had moved to Jarime when he was chosen to manage the Hanian side of the business. Ella had joined the priesthood at twelve and eventually became a healer. She had worked at the hospice since it had opened. Something had happened at the hospice a short while before the Choosing Ceremony which had impressed the White enough to promote her to high priestess.

And she must have impressed the gods, too, because now she was a White.

She radiated a calm self-assurance despite the magnitude of the responsibilities she had suddenly been given. This surprised Danjin. Auraya had been a little overwhelmed by her Choosing the first time he had met her.

Dyara began praising Danjin’s abilities and he pretended to deny all - just as they had each done when she had introduced him to Auraya, he remembered. Ellareen’s mouth twitched up at one corner, then she lifted a hand to interrupt.

“I know Danjin Spear is the best man for the job,” she said, smiling at Dyara. Her eyes shifted to his. “After all, he is the only one who can claim prior experience working with a new White.”

Dyara shifted in her seat slightly, perhaps a little annoyed at the interruption. “That is definitely an advantage.”

“Indeed.” Ellareen turn to regard him. “What was it like working with Auraya?”

He paused, surprised by the frank question. Naturally she would be curious about her predecessor, but he had expected the new White to avoid the subject. He wasn’t sure why. Perhaps only because of the rumors surrounding Auraya’s resignation.

“Hard work, but enjoyable,” he replied.

“You liked her,” she stated.

He smiled. “Yes.”

She raised her eyebrows, encouraging him to say more.

“She is able to empathise with others, though I think that made her work as difficult as it made it easy.”

Ellareen nodded. “It would. As a healer, compassion can be a weakness as well as a strength.”

He smiled at this reminder that Ellareen had been a healer priestess. Perhaps that work had taught her to be composed no matter what the situation. “What do you believe are your own strengths and weaknesses, Ellareen of the White?”

“Just call me Ella,” she said, then pursed her lips as she considered his question. “I don’t know... my faith in the gods, perhaps. When there is no obvious answer, I do what the gods tell me.”

That sounds like a personal mantra. Interesting. “A wise policy.”

She glanced at Dyara, who smiled faintly, before looking at him again. “Though the gods never told me to do anything until recently,” she told him, “I always gave them a chance to - before sorting out my messes myself.”

He chuckled. “They appreciated that, I’m sure. Not that I’m suggesting you’re going to make any messes now.” He looked at Dyara. “You have plenty of experienced helpers to call upon.”

“Yes. Including yourself. Dyara tells me you have spies all over Ithania.”

“Spies?” Danjin laughed. “Hardly spies, just people I know in courts and old trading friends.”

“Tell me about them.”

Taking another sip of water, Danjin leaned back in his chair and began to regale her with stories of the people he knew, in both high and low places, as well as how they had helped him in the past and could do so again. She appeared to be genuinely amused at the more humorous of his anecdotes. That was a good sign. Her sense of humor was a good counterbalance to the almost unnerving confidence she exuded.

She’ll make a good White, he decided. Let’s hope she lasts a little longer than Auraya did.

3

Auraya had glimpsed the waterfalls in the distance the few times she had flown to the North River tribe village. Now, as the young Siyee guide descended toward them, she saw that there were several falls, each plunging over a step in the land into a pool from which a shallow river flowed to the next fall.

Tyve swooped down to land beside one of the falls and Auraya dropped down beside him. The air hissed with the sound of falling water as Auraya looked around. It was a pretty place. She saw no sign of the landwalker woman.

Tyve gestured to the cascade. “She lives in there, behind the water. You can get in from the side.”

Auraya nodded. “Thank you, Tyve. You’d better go home. If I need anything I’ll drop in to your village.”

He nodded, ran lightly across the exposed rocks at the river’s edge, up onto a boulder, and leapt into the air. Watching him glide away, Auraya remembered something about the boy.

He wanted to become a Dreamweaver. She’d read it from his mind back when she had been helping Mirar treat his village. Mirar hadn’t said he would teach the boy, but he hadn’t refused either.

His dreams would have been dashed when Mirar fled Si. Still, it’s for the best. If he turned from the gods to become a Dreamweaver his soul would be lost when he died.

The idea of Siyee becoming Dreamweavers disturbed her. It was ironic that while she had been setting up the hospice in Jarime - which might ultimately reduce numbers of Dreamweavers by drawing prospective students to the priesthood - a Siyee had been on his way to becoming a Dreamweaver.

It was almost a relief to no longer be responsible for the hospice. Juran had reported good progress. It was nice to know it continued to benefit the people of the city while improving Circlian healing knowledge. But she had never been comfortable knowing that, even though it saved souls by encouraging those who might have joined the Dreamweavers to join the Circlians instead, she had been working toward the demise of the Dreamweavers.

The Siyee were her only concern now. Putting all thoughts of the hospice out of her mind, she started toward the waterfall.

The rock face behind the fall formed an overhang, and she found that she could slip behind the water into a cave. While the water allowed enough light through to illuminate the front of the cave, the back was shrouded in darkness. She drew magic and created a light, revealing a tunnel, then started forward. A light appeared ahead leading her on, around a corner, to a larger cave. Pots and jars stood by one wall and some rudimentary furniture was arranged in the middle.

A woman was sitting on one of two rough beds with her back to Auraya. Her clothing was plain, but the hair that spilled over her shoulders was a rich red. Her arms moved at some hidden task.

“Are you Jade Dancer?” Auraya asked, using the Siyee language. The woman must be able to communicate with the sky people in order to send Auraya a message.

The woman looked up from her task, but didn’t turn.

“Yes. Come in. I am making some hot maita. We have much to discuss.”

“Do we?” Auraya moved forward.

The woman chuckled. “Yes.”

Something about this place made Auraya uneasy. She felt vulnerable, though she could see nothing threatening in the room. Stopping, she drew magic and created a barrier about herself.

The woman turned to look at Auraya curiously. “Why so wary? I do not mean you any harm.”

Auraya stared back, looking for clues in the woman’s expression. She had a beautiful face, but lines around