Chapter 1

 

Two weeks later Zora wished with all her heart that she were still mixing potions for Marfa. Now she stood in the chapel looking at the leaves carved into the top of the Earth Mother’s section of the altar. Marfa had died two days ago, her funeral had been this morning, and Zora couldn’t even remember what she had said during the burial when everyone shared memories of the deceased. All she could remember from the funeral was the feel of cold earth slipping through her fingers into the grave.

She felt like that earth now: cold and insubstantial. She’d been numb since Marfa’s death, as she discovered that expecting someone to die soon and coping with the reality of it when they did were two very different things. She still couldn’t believe that Marfa was gone. She kept thinking of things to ask or tell her, and she would start to turn toward Marfa’s room before she remembered and stopped herself.

Now she was trying to prove that she was the Earth Mother’s chosen priestess. She had spent the last several hours at the task. It was a simple test. All she had to do was press the proper two carvings on the top of the altar at the same time.

The altar was an octagon made of stone, standing as high as her waist. The north face of it showed the Earth Mother in human form at the center. She held a sheaf of grain, the fruits of the earth lay around her feet, and a tree stood behind her with its branches spreading out in all directions. The top of the altar held the few implements used in the daily ritual, and each section was carved with appropriate symbols. The Earth Mother’s section was covered with dozens of leaves. All Zora knew was that when she pressed the correct pair of leaves, the library would open. She had asked her Aunt Akila, priestess of the Lady of Fire, for more details, but Akila had said only, “The Goddess will guide you.”

Zora had been trained to be the next priestess, and everyone expected the Earth Mother to choose her—indeed, they had been expecting that for as long as Zora could remember. But something was wrong...

At first she had just pressed randomly at the leaves that spread out from the tree on the side of the Earth Mother’s section across the top, at random, trusting that the Goddess would guide her hands. When that didn’t work she methodically pressed every possible combination. That had failed as well, and now, feeling both frightened and desperate, she was wondering if there was a way to become a priestess without going through this particular test.

Akila became the priestess of the Lady of Fire when she was two years old. She can’t have done this! The altar is waist-high on me—it would have been over her head. Even if she crawled across the top of the altar, and even if the flames were close enough together that she could press the right pair, she couldn’t have gotten into the library without breaking her neck! So, either there’s another way...

...or the Earth Mother doesn’t want me.

The Goddess wasn’t guiding Zora. She wasn’t even speaking to her, and Zora was rapidly becoming panic-stricken. She tried to calm her breathing as she methodically pressed each possible pair of leaves. Nothing happened. She thought she heard the Goddess whisper Not here, but she couldn’t be sure she was hearing anything over the pounding of blood in her ears.

Zora started shivering so hard she could no longer stand, and she sank down next to the altar, landing on the floor in a seated position with her back against the carving of the Earth Mother. Even the stone, which usually felt warm to her, was cold against her back.

I can’t fail! This is the only way I can honor Marfa’s memory: to use the skills she taught me; to take up the work she left. The daily ritual required all four of the priests—it was bad that there had been only three for the ritual last night, but Zora couldn’t join them until the Goddess confirmed that she was a priestess. And now it looked as if she wasn’t going to.

I want Marfa back. I can’t bear never seeing her again, never hearing her voice, never being able to ask her about all the things she knew that I don’t. I’ve lost part of myself—a large part of myself.

Zora was crying so hard that she didn’t hear Kassie enter the temple. She wasn’t aware of her cousin’s presence until Kassie knelt in front of her, put a hand on her arm, and asked, “Zora, are you going to be all right?”

Thank you for not pretending I am now.

“In time, no doubt,” Zora replied, “but apparently not soon.” Then her brain woke up. Kassie never comes into the temple! “What are you doing here?” But Zora knew, even though it was hard to believe—and she certainly didn’t want to believe it. “The Earth Mother has called you, hasn’t she?”

Kassie shook her head. “I don’t know. I had a feeling that I should come here, but it may just have been to help you.”

“It’s all right,” Zora said, forcing her mouth to shape the words of the biggest lie she had ever told. She dragged herself to her feet, using the altar for support. “You do know how to tell if you’ve been called, don’t you?”

“Not really,” Kassie admitted. “I never paid all that much attention. I always thought you’d be the priestess and stay here, and I’d travel with my brother.”

“We all thought that, but the Goddess appears to have different plans.” Zora looked Kassie firmly in the eyes. “Do you intend to refuse if she has called you?”

“Why don’t we find out first if she has called me?” Kassie seemed as stunned by the whole idea as Zora was—and almost as appalled.

“I’ll wait outside and guard the door.” Dear Lady, this can’t be happening. “Press the leaves on the top of the altar. When you press the correct two at the same time, the entrance to the library will open. It doesn’t work for me; I’ve tried every possible combination. If it doesn’t work for you, I don’t know what the Goddess wants.”

“I guess we’ll find out,” Kassie said softly as Zora left the room.

Zora’s legs still didn’t want to hold her up, so she slid to a seated position on the floor in front of the door. She was nowhere near over the initial shock, but unfortunately her brain was starting to function again. If I’m not the new priestess, what am I? Does the Goddess not want me at all?

Kassie opened the door and nearly tripped over her. She held a scroll in her hand and looked at it as if it were the carved serpent from the side of the altar come to life.

“You got into the library.”

Kassie bit her lip. “Zora, I’m so sorry. Believe me, I never wanted this. I never meant to take it from you.”

“You didn’t take it from me.” Zora struggled to her feet. “The Goddess gave it to you.”

“But I prayed.” Kassie’s voice was almost a whisper. “I didn’t want to travel with Kyril and the rest, but I didn’t dare tell him or Father that I’d rather stay here... I swear to you, Zora, I never thought this would happen!”

Neither did I, Zora thought. “I guess it’s a case of ‘be careful what you pray for.’ Prayer really is answered, but frequently not in the way you expected.”

Kassie looked down, seeming to find her own feet unusually fascinating.

“One word of advice,” Zora added. “Don’t ever tell my mother about your prayers. We both know that she wanted me to be the priestess so that I could never leave here.”

Before Kassie could say anything, the other three priests arrived. “Zora, it’s time for the evening ritual,” Akila said. “Are you ready?”

“The Goddess has a surprise for us.” Zora forced the words out through stiff lips. “You’re going to have to teach the ritual to Kassie.”

Somebody gasped. She didn’t see who, and she didn’t care.

She felt as though she had been punched in the stomach. There was no air. She couldn’t breathe; she couldn’t talk. She hurt more than she ever had before in her entire life. How could the Goddess not want me? I spent my entire life training to be her priestess—and she chose Kassie?

They were all staring—except Kassie, who was still looking at the floor. Akila opened her mouth, but Zora turned and fled up the stairs before she could say anything. She didn’t want to talk to anyone about this, and—even if the Goddess had rejected her—she could manage that much. She was still a shape-changer, after all.

~o0o~

She didn’t pause until she reached the top floor, and then she stopped only long enough to strip off her clothing before diving out the window. She was half tempted not to bother shape-changing, but self-preservation kicked in and forced the change to eagle-shape. At least I remembered to take my clothes off. It would really be miserable to have to claw my way out of them before I hit the water. She used her wings just enough to slow down so that she went into the water instead of going splat onto the surface. For a few seconds she was a very wet eagle, but then she quickly started the change to fish-shape.

Every adult shape-changer had taught that this was a very bad idea, but Zora didn’t care. She had lost Marfa, the person she loved most in the world. And now this. If the Goddess doesn’t want me as a priestess after I spent my whole entire life learning how to be one, why should I stick around? If I spend the rest of my life as a fish... Well, there are worse fates—like being a miserable, unwanted human. Zora shrank as small as possible and finished the change. There was a slight snap as the new shape set into place, and she could feel her body temperature dropping to match the water temperature as she sank deeper into the river and drifted downstream to the lake. But those were just physical sensations, and they passed quickly. Fish don’t cry. Fish don’t feel. Fish never suffer from being rejected. Since Zora didn’t want to feel, she was content to be a fish. She didn’t care how dangerous it was. She wasn’t happy, but at least she wasn’t unhappy anymore.