Chapter 2

 

Giant claws grabbed Zora, dragged her out of the water, and dropped her on the shore. It was dark, and she couldn’t breathe. She flopped around helplessly for what seemed like forever, until the giant eagle changed into a wolf, nosed at her, and flipped her over. As she landed on her other side, she found herself changing to wolf-shape. She scrambled weakly to her feet, and began the unpleasant process of coughing the water out of her burning lungs and replacing it with air. At least in wolf-shape her lungs were parallel to the ground, which made the process slightly easier than if she had been in human shape. When she could breathe air again, she flopped back down on the ground, gasping painfully for breath and unwilling to move. Why did Uncle Ranulf bother to fish me out? she wondered. I’m no use to anyone now...

Teeth grasped the loose skin at the back of her neck and dragged her back to her feet. The other wolf growled and nudged her—hard. She fell in beside him and walked—or, more accurately, staggered—back toward the castle. Her brain was still fuzzy from being a fish, but she still knew that she had better do what he wanted. Lord Ranulf was a very determined person. Sooner or later he would get his way, and it was easier on everyone if it was sooner.

He stayed at her side, making sure she didn’t go anywhere but where he wanted her to go. Nobody paid attention as they crossed the courtyard. The fact that it was the middle of the night helped, but it wouldn’t have been much different in the daytime. People who didn’t know about Lord Ranulf’s students believed he collected animals. He did, but not as many as most people thought.

Zora followed him to the suite of rooms he shared with her aunt. Akila was sitting in front of the fire, staring into the flames, when they came in. “Good. You found her.” She rose, grabbed the scruff of Zora’s neck, and dragged her into the dressing room. “I’ve got a nice bath waiting for you.”

Zora changed slowly and painfully back to human form, and Akila helped her into the tub. When Zora gasped at the hot water and tried to get out, Akila frowned.

“That water is barely warm,” she said. “What form were you in?”

“Fish.”

Akila sighed. “Cold-blooded animals are not the best choice when you’re upset. You know that.”

Yes, of course Zora knew that, but she still didn’t care. At least the physical pain was a distraction from a situation she still didn’t want to think about.

“Tell me when the temperature gets tolerable,” Akila added, “and I’ll add more hot water. We need to thaw you out before you get sick.”

Zora nodded. “It was such a shock,” she said slowly. “First losing Marfa—” Tears filled her eyes and spilled down her cheeks. “I should have been able to cope. It’s not as though we didn’t know she was dying, but—”

Akila nodded, her face sober. “Even when death is expected, even when you don’t want the person you love to suffer anymore, it still hurts to lose her.”

“She spent my entire life teaching me to serve the Goddess.” Zora gulped back the tears that threatened to choke her voice. “And the Goddess doesn’t even want me! It’s like she didn’t care about Marfa, like she threw out over a decade of Marfa’s work.”

“Did she say she didn’t want you?”

“She didn’t say anything! She just chose Kassie. And I couldn’t hear her voice—or even feel her presence in the temple, and I don’t know why!”

“We often don’t know why,” Akila said. “That’s why we have faith—for times when we don’t know why. As for your training, nothing you learn is ever a waste of time. The strangest things, even things you think you will never need to know, can be your salvation.”

Zora shook her head. It hurt. “I can’t think of anything I’ve ever learned that’s going to save me when my mother finds out about this. I’d be better off spending the rest of my life as a fish. I really don’t want to tell my mother that the Goddess chose Kassie instead of me. Mother may not care about the Goddess, but she loves the idea of my having to remain right here for the rest of my life.”

Akila froze in place. “You have no idea, do you?”

“No idea of what?” Zora asked warily.

“No idea of how long you’ve been a fish.”

Oh, no. Aloud she asked meekly, “How long?”

“Marfa’s funeral was three days ago,” Akila said. “Druscilla is frantic.”

Zora groaned. “Of course she is. If I’d stayed a fish, at least I wouldn’t have to listen to her. She’s going to take this very, very badly, isn’t she?”

“Yes,” Akila admitted, adding more hot water to the tub, “your mother is upset.”

~o0o~

When Zora was a baby, she and her parents had lived in a villa near the castle, but when she was about three years old there had been a big earthquake that had flattened the building. Her father had been killed, her mother’s legs had been crushed so badly that she would never walk again, but Zora hadn’t had so much as a scratch. That had convinced everyone she was specially favored by the Earth Mother.

Akila mourned the death of her twin brother, and she and Marfa did what they could to heal his widow. Lord Ranulf moved Zora to the nursery to join her cousins, and then supervised the demolition of what was left of the villa. Druscilla had lived in a suite in the castle ever since, while Zora grew up with Kyril and Kassie—and their siblings and Lord Ranulf’s fosterlings. Ranulf taught all of them the fine points of shape-changing, and Marfa trained Zora to be a priestess.

Zora knew she was lucky to be with her cousins. Even years later, when her mother’s health had improved as much as it was ever going to, she wasn’t a cheerful person. Zora spent time with her, of course. Druscilla taught her to embroider, so they could do that together, but no matter how hard Zora tried—and she did try—she couldn’t seem to make her mother happy. And nobody in the castle would deny that Druscilla had a tendency toward melodrama, and when she was really upset...

“Try not to worry,” Akila said. “You don’t have to face her alone. The rest of us will be here for you.” She looked out the window into the darkness. “And you don’t have to do it right now. It’s the middle of the night, so dealing with your mother can wait until morning.” Akila patted Zora consolingly on the shoulder and added still more hot water to the tub.

“Do you think— Do you think the Goddess has abandoned me forever?”

“No,” Akila said firmly. “I am very sure the Goddess has not abandoned you.”

I wish I had as much faith in that as you do...

When Zora considered the matter, she suddenly realized there was a reason she was lacking in faith. She had never developed a strong—or even a weak—faith because she had never needed it. When you are constantly aware of the presence of the Goddess—and she talks to you—you have knowledge, so you don’t need faith. Obviously, however, her life thus far had not prepared her for her current situation. Zora had no idea what she was going to do now.

~o0o~

Zora looked at Lord Ranulf in horror. “What do you mean, ‘grounded’?” It didn’t sound good, and if it meant what she was afraid it did...

“I mean that you are going to spend the next three days in your mother’s quarters, keeping her company.”

“But why?” I’d rather be a fish.

He looked disgusted with her—and that had never happened before. Now that the Goddess didn’t want her, everyone seemed to hate her. It was so unfair.

“I have spent the last three days searching the lake for you by day and listening to your mother have hysterics every time I came home without you. Do you realize,” he added, “that if Colin hadn’t seen you go into the river we would have had no idea where to look for you? Do you have any idea how close you came to becoming a fish permanently?”

“I’d rather be a fish than be shut up with my mother,” Zora muttered resentfully.

“And you just missed a wonderful opportunity to keep your mouth shut,” Lord Ranulf said calmly. “Nine days. Do you want to try for ninety?”

Zora shook her head and kept quiet. Obviously anything she said was only going to make things worse.

Lord Ranulf sighed. “It’s not just punishment, Zora. You spent three days as a fish and completely lost track of time in the process. You need to stay in human shape for a while so that your body will remember that this is your true shape.”

~o0o~

Nine days stuck in Druscilla’s rooms might as well have been ninety—it certainly felt like it. Zora admitted to herself that if she couldn’t walk, she didn’t think she’d be cheerful either—even if her husband hadn’t been killed in the same accident that crippled her. But it was really depressing to spend time in Druscilla’s company, and Zora was already depressed by Marfa’s death.

Now that she no longer had anything she needed to do, Zora slept until well after dawn. She dressed in whatever was laid out, which meant her mother’s maids were choosing her clothing. She broke her fast with her mother, and then spent the morning working on the embroidery project Druscilla had given her.

Zora didn’t share Druscilla’s passion for embroidery, but it did have its uses. If you leave your hair loose and bend your head over the work in your lap, nobody can see your face. You do have to keep your hands moving, but still, it gives you a sort of privacy, even in a crowded room. Not that her mother’s rooms were crowded, but because Druscilla couldn’t walk unaided there were generally at least two servants with her.

After the midday meal, they usually continued the needlework, although sometimes Druscilla had Zora read to her. She liked poetry. Zora didn’t care for it much, but it was something to do. It wasn’t as if Zora had anything else to do. Her mother was the only one who wanted her for anything.

The Goddess rejected me, the priests are busy training Kassie, Lord Ranulf apparently isn’t speaking to me, and all my friends seem to be following his example. I don’t blame them—much. My reaction to Kassie’s being chosen was childish, stupid, and dangerous. I know it, and I have no doubt that everyone else in the castle does too. Maybe I really deserve to spend the rest of my life doing embroidery and reading boring poetry. But why did the Goddess reject me? What did I do wrong? It feels as though she doesn’t care about me anymore, and I don’t know what I did to deserve this! Lady, please tell me what I did to offend you, because I really don’t know!

Another frightening thing was that at the end of the nine days, when Zora was allowed to change shape and fly again, she couldn’t do it, and she didn’t know what the reason for that was either. She felt frantic—and even more useless. So she continued to sit with her mother and embroider, while her thoughts ran in unproductive circles in her head.

At least Druscilla didn’t require her to talk. She just wanted Zora in the same room. This meant Zora could obsess over her problems without her mother’s making a fuss about it. Druscilla hadn’t even mentioned the fact that Zora wasn’t changing. Of course, she had never wanted her daughter to be a shape-changer in the first place.

Another thing Druscilla didn’t mention was that now that Zora was not the priestess of the Earth Mother there was nothing to stop her from leaving Eagle’s Rest. I think she hopes it won’t occur to me if no one says anything about it. It did occur to me, but it isn’t as if I have anyplace else to go. If the Goddess doesn’t want me here, why would she want me somewhere else? Can’t she at least talk to me? I’m going crazy here, and I’ve never been so miserable in my entire life. Lady, what did I do to deserve this?

~o0o~

Zora had lost track of the days by the morning when Kassie came to her mother’s rooms.

“Good morning, Aunt Druscilla,” she said politely. “I apologize for disturbing you, but could I borrow Zora? I need help with a potion, and she’s much better in the stillroom than I am.”

As Druscilla inclined her head graciously in permission, Zora thought uncharitably that a squirrel was better in the stillroom than Kassie was. Still, she was happy enough to have an excuse to set her embroidery aside and follow Kassie from her mother’s solar.

We’ll go by my rooms first,” Kassie said decisively. “I left the scroll there, and you need to change into something less—”

Zora looked down at her dress. She hadn’t been paying attention to what she put on in the morning, so she couldn’t tell what she was wearing without looking at it. Now that she had, however, she could see what Kassie meant. “Frilly?” she suggested.

“White,” Kassie replied. “That dress won’t take the amount of washing required to remove stillroom stains from it, and even the largest apron won’t cover those sleeves.”

“Not to mention the strong possibility of setting them on fire.” Zora took another look at the dress. “Why am I wearing this?”

“I was wondering that myself. Is your mother picking out your clothes?”

Zora shrugged. “I just put on whatever’s laid out in the morning. As long as I’m stuck with her, it doesn’t really matter what I wear.”

“Well, it’s going to matter in the stillroom,” Kassie pointed out as they entered her room. She rummaged in a clothing chest and pulled out a set of practice clothes: drab, loose pants with a drawstring waist, and a tunic of a similar color. Zora stripped off the dress she was wearing and tossed it on Kassie’s bed as she reached for the pants.

“You’ve lost weight,” Kassie remarked. “It didn’t show under that dress, but you have.”

Zora shrugged as she put on the pants and tunic. “What sort of potion do you need to make?”

“Not me. Us.”

“Both of us?”

“That’s what the Goddess said,” Kassie replied. “It’s the one from the scroll I found in the library. She said that both of us needed to be able to recognize it when we encounter it. Besides, potions are definitely something you do better than I do.” She sighed. “I suppose I’ll have to learn, won’t I?”

“Herbs and other growing plants are generally considered to fall in the domain of the Earth Mother,” Zora pointed out. “Don’t worry, you’ll pick it up. If I can do it, you can do it.”

“Zora, there are a lot of things you can do that I can’t.”

“You’ll learn,” Zora said in her most consoling voice, “and if all else fails, you can always ask your mother—or even mine. Do you have the ingredients for the potion? I never did get a look at the scroll.”

“I haven’t looked at it either,” Kassie admitted. “I’ve had other things on my mind.”

The scroll for the potion was on Kassie’s floor. Apparently she had dropped it there the night she was chosen and hadn’t touched it since.

Maybe being chosen was as hard for her as not being chosen was for me.

They took the scroll down to the stillroom, where Zora quickly discovered that Kassie really couldn’t tell one herb from another. Literally. Maybe the Goddess wants me here to help teach Kassie. Somebody has to if she’s going to be a good priestess. And even if I can’t feel the presence of the Goddess, I’m still going to serve her to the best of my ability. I still feel—even after everything that’s happened—that serving the Goddess is what I was born to do. But I’m so confused.

Fortunately the jars in the stillroom were labeled, although seeing Marfa’s handwriting on them made Zora feel like crying. Again. I’m spending much too much time in tears these days.

The bundles of dried plants hanging from the ceiling, however, were another matter, and failure to tell them apart could easily be fatal. Zora rummaged around in the back of the cupboards below the worktables until she found a set of labeled drawings Marfa had made for her when she was a child. She crawled backward out from under the table and lifted them up to Kassie. “Study these until you can recognize the plants without needing to look them up. You really need to learn this.”

Kassie, miserable and overwhelmed, looked at the drawings and back at Zora.

“There’s a trick I use when I’m making a potion,” Zora added helpfully, “to make sure I don’t forget anything or leave an item out. I take all the items on the list of ingredients and line them up in order on the worktable. Then, as soon as I add the proper amount of each ingredient I put that item away and pick up the next one. You don’t want to finish a potion and discover you’ve left out a crucial ingredient.” She unrolled the scroll, which Kassie had dropped on the worktable, and looked at the ingredients listed. “This is an odd list. It looks more like a soup than a potion. It uses beef broth as the base, adds finely ground walnuts, various herbs, and—” She stopped, staring at the scroll in disbelief.

“And what?” Kassie asked.

“A drop of blood from someone who hates you.”

“What?”

“You heard me.”

“Yes, but—is that a normal ingredient in a potion?”

Zora shook her head emphatically. “I’ve never seen one like this before. And I don’t know where we’d get it. I don’t know of anyone who really hates us, do you?”

Kassie was silent, obviously trying to think of someone. “Does the person have to hate us forever,” she asked, “or would being angry at us when we took his blood work?”

“The latter is probably the best we can do,” Zora said, “given our lack of serious enemies here.”

“Don’t worry,” Kassie said over her shoulder as she left the stillroom, “that’s what brothers are for.”

By the time she returned, dragging Kyril with her, Zora had assembled the rest of the ingredients and had the beef broth simmering.

“You want me to hate you?” Kyril was asking.

“Only temporarily,” Kassie said brightly. “Oh, and we need your blood.”

“Hating you is suddenly becoming easier,” Kyril said. “How much blood?”

“Not enough to kill you,” Kassie assured him. “Are we ready, Zora?”

“We’re ready for you to start adding the ingredients,” Zora replied. “I’ve got the base heated, and everything else is lined up right here.”

“Can’t you do it?” Kassie asked.

“Of course I can do it,” Zora sighed. “The point of this is to teach you how to do it.”

“Oh, very well.” Kassie reluctantly stirred in each ingredient.

Zora confined herself to handing things to Kassie and putting them away afterward. It would be so much easier to make this myself, but—just maybe—I won’t be here doing it for her for the rest of our lives.

“Last ingredient,” Kassie said, straightening up and pushing her hair off her forehead with the back of her wrist. “Kyril, just think of everything either one of us has ever done that annoyed you.”

“Well,” Kyril began, “there was the time when—”

“Don’t say anything aloud,” Zora said quickly, “just think it. We still need to be on speaking terms when this is over.”

Kyril glared at them for several minutes. “I think I hate you enough now.”

Zora picked up a small knife, grabbed Kyril’s left hand, and jabbed it into the side of his middle finger. Ignoring his sharp yelp, she held his hand over the pot and carefully squeezed two drops of his blood—one for each of us—into the potion and stirred them in. “All done. Thank you very much, Kyril. You can stop hating us now.”

Kyril looked at Kassie. “You could have said you just needed a drop or two.”

“Didn’t I mention that?” Kassie said, the picture of sisterly mock innocence.

“No,” Kyril said shortly. “But at least I get to watch you two drink the stuff.” He grabbed a couple of clay cups from the shelf next to him, and ladled out two servings of the potion. “Here you go. Drink it while it’s fresh.”

“Do we have to?” Kassie asked.

“Yes,” Zora said. “The scroll says that once the blood is added the potion has to be consumed immediately.” She tossed the contents down her throat in one quick gulp, and Kassie reluctantly followed suit.

Then the potion took effect. Kassie sagged against the table, and Zora hit the floor like a puppet whose strings had been cut.

~o0o~

The next thing Zora knew she was upstairs in the solar, wrapped in blankets and in the lap of somebody sitting right next to the fire. She was still cold, so cold that she wasn’t even shivering. Kyril was sitting next to Kassie, while Akila frowned over the scroll.

Zora heard someone say the word “antidote” and saw Akila shake her head. I’m going to die. I’m going to die alone and cut off from the Goddess. She wondered how long it would take, and if it was going to hurt anymore. She couldn’t fight it, couldn’t even reach out to the Goddess or pray for her mercy... Zora’s eyes slid closed as her body went limp.

Someone was shaking her, and Akila was holding her face between her palms. “Listen to me, Zora,” she said urgently. “You’re going to be fine. This will wear off soon. Do you understand?”

Zora didn’t really understand, but she nodded slightly and let her eyes close again. Somebody said something about “sleep it off.” But as Zora slid gratefully into sleep, she wondered, Why didn’t this work on Kassie the same way it did on me? From what I saw, she barely felt it—she was sitting up while I was passing out.

Zora came half awake at one point and heard voices near her.

“You were right.” It was Kyril. “How did you know?”

The voice that answered was Colin’s. “She hardly weighs anything, and I remember from my time in the kitchens the meals they prepare for Druscilla.”

That was all Zora heard—or at least all she remembered.