The dream stayed with her for weeks. Rhen found herself lying awake for hours each night, staring wide-eyed at the darkness for fear of closing her eyes and seeing the flames again. She followed her mother dutifully and mostly in silence, saying nothing of that night. She had decided that magic was no longer something she wanted to take part in.
The nessari were equally as quiet and paid Rhen’s change in character little mind. At first Rhen was too occupied to ask questions, but at last her own cares abated and she began to press her mother and aunts. Her mother refused to answer anything, insisting that she was tired from the Blood Moon. Aunt Celane was unusually morose and took to standing at one part of the outer wall or another and staring at the whitewashed stone for long periods of time. When Rhen asked her for anything she simply knelt and kissed her forehead before telling her to go and play.
Desperate and lonely, Rhen decided to seek out Trissa. She had neither seen nor spoken to the blind woman since the night of the ritual, too shaken by her encounter with the strange scaled woman in the under-rooms. If she had to pass over the iron grate she held her breath and closed her eyes, trusting in her memory of the stone path to see her through. She avoided the path that lined the outer wall, not at all eager for that old woman to speak to her again, but now she felt she had no choice.
Strangely, Trissa was waiting for her when she approached the little hut. The old sightless woman was seated on the stoop of the door, and beside her was a small tray with two cups and a plate of little cakes. Trissa pushed the tray to her side and motioned for Rhen to sit down. Rhen did as she was told, taking a cup when it was offered to her.
Trissa stared upward to the top of the wall in front of her hut. She smiled a sad and distant smile with hints of warmth as she sun began to shine between the clouds. “I heard a hawk yesterday. They won’t pass over the Temple, oh no, but he let me know he was out there.” Her voice was old and tired.
Rhen took one of the cakes and rested it on her knee, prodding away a few loose crumbs.
“You have a bit of the hawk in you, little Rhen. Sharp eyes and silent wings.”
“How do you know?”
Trissa smiled, knowing and mysterious. “We don’t need eyes to see. Give it a try.”
Rhen was silent for a long time. Bit by bit she broke the little cake into crumbs that fell around her knees and onto the ground in small piles. She wasn’t sure what it was that Trissa was asking of her, but sensed that it was important. She spoke without thinking. “Something is different now, Aunt.”
“Yes, child, it is.”
“Someone new is coming.”
“That is right.”
She blinked. The words were her own, and after speaking them she could suddenly see the shapes of men and horses in a dark tunnel, blurred as if they walked through a thick haze. Rhen rubbed at her eyes and saw the wall and the gardens again, the sun bright and hot. Colors and lights danced before her eyes for a moment before fading away. Trissa placed a hand on her shoulder and gave an encouraging squeeze.
“They get clearer after a time.”
“Was that magic?”
Trissa nodded, staring at Rhen with her sightless eyes.
Rhen brushed the crumbs from her lap. She wasn’t sure what had changed, but now she felt different and self-conscious. Trissa was smiling at her, waiting for her to speak, but no words came to her lips.
Heavy, determined footsteps grew louder as someone approached the hut. Celane was staring hard at Trissa with a severity that Rhen had never seen before. Grabbing Rhen’s wrist, she pulled her to her feet and away from the old woman. Rhen’s cup toppled to the cobbled path, spilling its contents.
“That is enough.”
Calmly, Trissa bent forward and felt along the cobblestones until she found the cup and placed it back on the tray. “What is it you mean?”
“You know what I mean. If I can taste it on the air, who is to say-“ she leaned forward, dropping to a hissed whisper, “who is to say no one else can?”
Lifting the tray, Trissa rose to her feet. “Those aer’din will find the taste bitter on their tongues.”
Celane’s eyes went wide with shock. She pulled Rhen close and clutched her against her side. Her hands and face had turned white. Rhen looked back and forth between the two women, not quite understanding what was going on. Celane swallowed deeply.
“How far along?” she asked, calmer now.
The blind woman shook her head. “Not very.”
Without another word, Celane took Rhen by the hand and led her away. They walked in silence until they reached the kitchens, empty now after the midday meal. Celane sat her down on a stool by the hearth and knelt in front of her, staring into her eyes without blinking. Up close Rhen could see that her face and fingertips were still stained with traces of blue pigments.
“Rhen. Your aunt Trissa is a dangerous woman. You must not let her speak to you anymore.”
“I was… I wanted…”
Celane stroked through her short yellow curls. “We’ve neglected you, haven’t we, my dear? I’m sorry for that. Even so, you must not let her speak to you.”
“Please, Aunt, I cannot sleep.”
Celane fell silent and cupped Rhen’s face in her hands. Then she rose and took a bowl from a shelf. Dried herbs and flowers hung from a length of twine that crossed from one end of the room to the other, and she made short work of choosing bits of this and that from the lot. With skilled hands she mashed the crushed herbs into a fine powder, then filled a cup with water and sprinkled the mixture on top. Rhen watched with a mixture of curiosity and apprehension as Celane bent her head and whispered over the cup, then knelt and beckoned to her. She approached without question, worried that she might be in trouble.
“This is medicine for you, child. It will help you sleep.” She offered Rhen the cup. A smile crossed her lips but there was worry in her eyes. Rhen took the cup and drank its contents. The mixture had an odd blend of sweet and bitter sensations.
“Rhen?”
Her mother stood in the doorway, draped in red-embroidered linens that she only wore for special ceremonies. The light from outside caught the brilliance of the scarlet fabric and made her glow like fire against darkness. She extended her hand and Rhen hurried to take it.
“I’ve given her something, Asara,” Celane said. “It will-“
“He’s here.”
Celane uttered a word that Rhen was not allowed to repeat and pushed past them out of the kitchens. Rhen’s mother squeezed her hand and led her outside as well. “Someone important is arriving, my sweetling. An envoy from Terdan, the Deliri capital city. You must show him great respect.”
They were walking toward the gate. Rhen felt dizzy in the growing heat of the day and relied on her mother’s grasp to steady her. The sudden attention from everyone after weeks of near-silence made her feel strange. “Why is he here, Mama?”
“I…am not sure, Sweetling. You must be on your very best behavior whilst he is here, do you understand?”
Rhen nodded. As they came upon the gate she saw the biggest horse she had ever seen – white and gray, with a leather saddle dyed blue and decorated with green and gold-embroidered cloth. The elf who rode her wore green and gold as well in the form of fitted clothing and stately jewels that glittered in the sun and made Rhen gasp. She had never seen such a display of wealth and prestige. He dismounted in one fluid motion and immediately clasped his hands at the small of his back, his cold stare darting from one person to the next as edran and nessari alike lined up to either side of the pathway to greet him. Rhen stood beside her mother, trying not to stare too much. The envoy walked with a stiff demeanor, his face full of judgment and disdain as he inspected the row of women and elves. He almost missed Rhen, his gaze set too high to notice anything but the top of her golden head, but just as he seemed he would pass by he stopped and looked down at her instead.
His voice was unexpectedly soft as he asked a question in his native tongue. One of the nearby edran answered, and the envoy turned his attention to Rhen’s mother.
“She is yours?” he asked with a gentle tone.
“Yes, Edran’in, she is mine.”
“She is lovely. We will speak more tomorrow.”
Without waiting for a response, the envoy turned and began to walk toward the temple, followed by a company of Delerin priests and servants. Rhen’s mother released a shuddering sigh and knelt down to her level, taking Rhen in her arms.
“You did very well,” she whispered.