“You should not have been climbing, Rhen. The Edran was right to speak to you.”
Rhen did her best to hold the copper bowl steady. In it was a mixture of pigments and animal fat her mother used to paint her face. Her mother took a pinch of the dark blue mixture and applied it under her eyes, her hands steady and precise even without a looking glass. The sun was setting and tonight was the Blood Moon, a night filled with magic and ritual. The nessari would use magic tonight, though Rhen had never witnessed the rituals herself. Her mother and aunts would return to their chambers the next morning, exhausted and sometimes bruised, and would sleep for a day and a night. Rhen hated the Blood Moon ceremonies. She hated waiting and being alone for so long.
“May I watch tonight? I won’t get in the way.”
“You know the answer. The Edran would be furious and children have no place there.”
“Maybe because no one has let us try. Maybe I could learn some magic, and-“
Her mother dropped down and grabbed Rhen’s arms, leaving smears of blue on her sleeves. She looked wild and inhuman, wide-eyed and covered in painted lines. “Do not. Ever. Attempt to use magic. Do you understand, Rhen? It’s dangerous.”
Rhen bit her lip, holding back tears. She forced herself to nod and felt herself released. With careful movements she placed the bowl of paint on the table, then hurried out of their little house and slid down into a soft patch of moss that grew around the door. Her face was hot and her eyes blurred. When at last her mother came out Rhen remained silent, only nodding to confirm that she was to stay in their room and out of trouble. Several other nessari passed by without looking at her, their arms and faces painted all colors. Rhen waited until they were out of sight to rise, wiping away the tears that had dried on her cheeks.
With silent steps she passed behind the buildings in the shadows cast by the orange-red moon that was beginning to rise over the trees. Moving about the temple unknown had become a hobby of hers. She liked to see how far she could get before she was spotted, slinking through shadows and crouching in the foliage. Tonight she would go somewhere she hadn’t before – into the inner temple.
No one entered the temple without express permission. The white stone building was ornate with jade and tile scrollwork that glittered brightly in the sun, but under the reddish haze of the moon tonight everything seemed darker, the shadows longer. Rhen used the darkness to her advantage, though no one was here to see her tonight. They were all within, gathered in the inner courtyard she had only seen in passing when the doors stood open. Tonight they stood wide and Rhen was free to enter. All eyes were turned toward the stone cobbled circle in the center of the yard. Copper braziers lined the outer edge, each one emitting a sweet-smelling smoke that filled the courtyard and made Rhen’s head swim.
She pressed herself against the moss-ridden wall, careful not to make a sound as she slipped behind the human men that guarded the temple gates. They wore heavy leather and carried a long curved knife in each hand, the blades so polished she could see herself in them if she dared get close enough. These men never spoke. Celane had whispered to her once that their tongues were removed, along with other things, to ensure they would not interact with the women there. Having no voices also meant they could not issue a warning. They killed any who tried to enter or leave without permission without a second thought. Rhen shuddered at the thought and hurried past them to crouch behind one of the many stone pillars. The smoke wafted lazily and stung her eyes.
At the center of the circle stood four of the nessari women. One was her mother, the other aunt Celane. They were each chained to the ground by their wrists, their faces lifted to the sky. The paint on their skin made them look like monsters. All around them were the priests in hooded robes dyed a rich dark blue. The sleeves were so long that Rhen could not see their hands. She heard them begin to chant, their voices soft and musical like the songs of prayer the nessari sang to greet each morning.
Rhen rubbed at her eyes. For a moment she thought the women were glowing. They began to sway in unison, timing their movements with the chants of the Delerin priests. One by one the nessari fell to their knees but they never stopped swaying. The chanting continued, growing faster. Were the priests increasing the speed of their words in command of their charges, or hastening to keep pace? She could not be sure. Sparks sputtered from the braziers and danced across the cobblestones in a shower of blues and reds. Rhen held her breath and closed her eyes tight, suddenly very aware that she was not supposed to be here.
When she opened her eyes again she saw her mother on her back. The other three women were slumped forward and everything went quiet. One of the Edran had extended a rigid arm outward, signaling the silence. He knelt beside Rhen’s mother and lifted her until their faces were close. Through blurred eyes Rhen could see her mother whisper something. A shiver ran down her spine and without quite knowing why she covered her face and did her best to shut out the world around her.
She became aware of the movement around her. People were leaving, and by some luck she had not been discovered. She stood up and stepped away from her hiding spot, careful to keep as much distance between herself and the center circle as possible. The moon had passed behind clouds and everything was dark now, but she managed to feel along the stone walls until she found the doorway, still open. More luck. Rhen stumbled out of the inner temple, its air still thick with incense and the heat of the braziers, and into the night air. She took a deep breath, still dizzy from the ordeal. A light rain was falling from the sky. The gentle cadence that sounded as it fell on the tile roofs of the Forest Temple seemed odd after the harsh sounds of ritual.
Rhen had to get back to her room. Her mother would not be pleased when she found their bed empty upon their return, and might discover that she had been spying. Rhen felt her way along the stone paths as best she could, her thoughts racing in all directions. In the back of her mind she still heard the chanting, and her mother’s whispers. She shook her head, trying to focus instead in the rain as its cool droplets hit her skin. Her dress was already soaked through.
Someone grabbed her ankle. Rhen let out a small cry as she fell, turning over to free herself. Small pale hands grappled for anything they could reach through the small grate set in the stone. A voice cried out from the room below. Crawling on hands and knees, Rhen moved over to the grate and looked past it. A woman looked back at her, small and dirty, her clothes so ragged they merely hung from her emaciated frame. Long black hair fell in tangles around her waist. What struck Rhen the most were the scales around her face – blue like her eyes. The woman grasped for her again but Rhen pulled away.
“Please…” Her voice was hoarse and desperate. “The falling water. Let it last.” She smiled, sighing as the rain trickled from the iron and onto her face.
Rhen leaned forward again. “What’s wrong with you?”
A hand pulled her to her feet, dragging her away from the grate. Rhen could hear a mixture of sobbing and laughter from the strange scaled woman locked below. She struggled and looked up, afraid that she had been found by one of the Edran, but it was Trissa who pulled her away into the shadow of a building. The frail woman pushed her against a wall with surprising strength, kneeling in front of her. Rhen tried to look away as she stared at her with those white sightless eyes.
“Did she hurt you, child?” Her voice was strange and awkward. Rhen didn’t know anyone who had ever heard her speak.
Rhen shook her head and then remembered to say, “No.”
“Stay away from the cells, child. They will not hold you.” She stroked Rhen’s hair with a gentle hand. “You have so very far to go yet, child. Go on home and sleep well while there’s time left.”
Rhen broke away and ran until she was at her doorway again. She wished that she had stayed at home like she was told, that she was warm in her bed, long since asleep, dreaming as she always had of the forest and the birds in the treetops. Her head was swimming, dizzy from the smoke and the events of the evening. She opened the door just enough for her to slip inside, closing it an inch at a time so as to remain silent. She needn’t have bothered – her mother lay on their cot, deep in an exhausted sleep. Half of the paint had smeared from her face to her clothing. Rhen crept into bed as quietly as she could manage, still unwilling to disturb her. She drifted to sleep with surprising ease despite what had happened.
She did dream that night, but not of the forest. Her mother lay on a cold stone floor, too weak to move. Rhen rushed to help her but was stopped by the Edran in their hooded robes, all of them chanting as they towered over her. Rhen screamed at them, urging them to let her pass, but the sound of the chanting was too loud for her voice to carry. All around them a wall of fire rose up, threatening to consume them all. Rhen covered her face and closed her eyes.