Chapter 6

 

Apparently what Zora could do as a dog was follow Lina everywhere she went. I could even say that I’m dogging her heels. It was very informative. Zora had thought at first that Lina was a spoiled brat, and there were still times when she reminded her of Druscilla, but Zora slowly began to realize that Lina had almost no privacy. The only places she was left alone were the Queen’s chapel and in her bedroom at night. Even then a priestess, one of the veiled women in green, slept in the antechamber between the bedroom and the hall. Lina also had no control over her own life beyond choosing which item on her plate to eat first at meals and deciding what to embroider in her “free” time, when she sat with at least one priestess, Lady Esme, and usually a guardswoman in attendance—and this was in the walled garden of her own palace! It’s as if they’re afraid she’ll run away if they take their eyes off her. Come to think of it, she’s so unhappy that she might actually try it. I think I might be tempted in her place, not so much because of her duties, but because of the obvious lack of trust from everyone around her.

Kyril showed up every day, ostensibly to check on the dog, and spent his time flirting with the Queen. Colin, who always accompanied him, was the one who actually was checking on the dog.

“Lady,” Colin said to Lina, after nearly a week had passed, “would you allow us to take Princess home with us—at least for tonight?”

“Why?” Lina asked, looking wide-eyed and innocent.

“Uh...because we miss her,” Colin stammered. Zora was glad that dogs couldn’t burst out laughing uncontrollably.

“You see her every day,” Lina pointed out. She was the very picture of reason, but Zora’s ears, well attuned to Lina’s voice by now, caught a very faint quaver.

She’s having trouble keeping a straight face. I wonder how much longer she can keep this up.

Lina didn’t try very hard. “She does make a beautiful dog, doesn’t she?”

Colin tensed, and Kyril frankly gaped. “Don’t you mean is a beautiful dog?” Kyril asked.

Lina started laughing. “If you two could see your faces!”

“What makes you think she’s not a dog?” Colin asked cautiously.

“She turns human in the chapel.”

Colin exhaled sharply and shivered as the tension left his body.

“Why were you so worried that I’d find out— Oh!” Lina realized what the problem was. “You were afraid she was going to get stuck in that shape.”

“Yes,” Colin said, “but if she’s spending a couple of hours a day as a human, she should be all right.”

“If she needs more time,” Lina said practically, “I can always lock my door at night so she can sleep in human shape.”

“You’ll tell her if you need to do that, right?” Colin said firmly to Zora.

Zora nodded. It was nice to have someone who cared about her here. She wondered if anyone worried about whether Lina, not just the Queen, was well and happy.

~o0o~

“Do you like Kyril?” Zora asked Lina as they sat in the chapel the next afternoon.

Lina blushed and looked down at her hands. “Yes,” she admitted. “But it doesn’t matter if I like anyone or not. I’ll have to marry again in a few months, and the Goddess will choose the man. If I’m lucky, he’ll be really old and somebody I’ve never met before.”

“Why would you want an elderly husband?” Zora asked. “It sounds dull.”

“If I don’t care about him, it hurts less when he dies,” Lina said crossly. “The last thing I want is a husband I actually like.”

Zora had actually forgotten about the Sacrifice. “Sorry. I see what you mean.”

“The other one, Kyril’s friend—what’s his name?”

“You mean Colin?”

Yes. How did you meet him?

“He’s one of Lord Ranulf’s students. We’ve known each other for years.”

“So it isn’t really animals he likes,” Lina said archly. “He likes you.”

“I think he might like me. But he does like animals. All of us do. You can’t change into the shape of something you don’t like—not easily, at least. Besides, anyone who lived at Eagle’s Rest and didn’t like animals would be miserable.”

That gave Lina something to discuss with Kyril the next day. She asked him about the animals who lived around Eagle’s Rest, and then gazed raptly at him for the next three hours while he talked.

Zora lay in her usual place—with her head in Colin’s lap—and worried. What if Kyril is chosen to be the Year-King? He’d probably be fine, but I’m afraid Lina would take it badly. Very badly.

~o0o~

Zora’s life was falling into a routine—or perhaps a rut. By the end of the second week she had memorized the pattern of the labyrinth set into the chapel floor. She always walked along its path—she felt compelled to—while Lina just walked straight across it as if it weren’t there. Zora could tell the fountain was important, too—aside from enabling her to change shape, which she still could not do outside the chapel. Lina ignored both the fountain and the labyrinth, as if neither had anything to do with her.

“Living water,” Zora remarked one afternoon, as she ran a fingertip across the top of the surface, briefly making a trail in the water. She did that a lot; she found it soothing. Lina never touched it. I wonder why.

“What?” Lina may not have been interested in the chapel or whatever meditation she was supposed to be doing, but she did seem to like having a girl her own age to talk to. Zora didn’t blame her. Everyone else around was old enough to be her mother. That might be why she’s so friendly to Kyril, too, although she pretty much ignores Colin. Of course, he pretty much ignores her too.

“The water is the blood of the land,” Zora murmured, mostly to herself, because this wasn’t the sort of thing that interested Lina. “It wells up in the center of the rock, which comes from the earth, and then it spreads out and runs down along the sides.” She put her face practically on the floor to look more carefully at the base of the rock, which would have been easier if she’d been a dog at the moment. “And then the water returns to the earth.” She sat back on her heels and stretched. “I wonder if this is what the Queen is supposed to contemplate.”

Both of you should be contemplating it, the voice of the Goddess said in her head.

Zora jumped. It was the first time the Goddess had spoken to her since she arrived in Diadem.

“What is it?” Lina asked.

“Didn’t you hear her?”

“Hear who?”

“The Goddess. She said that both of us are supposed to be contemplating the water and the earth.”

“Are you sure it’s not just your imagination?”

“Positive.”

“But that’s stupid. It’s just a rock!” Lina said in frustration. “You sound like the First Priestess. She’s always trying to tell me that stupid things like that are important.”

Your lives and your souls depend on your understanding...

Zora closed her eyes for a moment, thankful beyond words that the Goddess was talking to her again. She decided, however, that she wasn’t going to share that last remark with Lina—at least not now. Lina was already a nervous wreck. Truthfully, Zora was frightened as well. She had a strong feeling that something was very wrong at court, but she hadn’t yet been able to figure out what it was. Maybe this was something that could help.

“What did the First Priestess say about it?” Zora asked.

“I don’t remember,” Lina said crossly. “If you could stay human long enough, you could ask her yourself, if you care all that much.” She slumped back against the wall, crossed her arms across her breasts, and glared at the water.

“Or you could ask her while I’m with you,” Zora said, trying to cajole Lina into a better mood. “I can hear and understand just fine when I’m a dog.”

Lina looked curious. “Can you read? When you’re a dog, I mean.”

“Not really. Large, simple signs, yes. Scrolls, books, or anything like that...unfortunately not.” Zora looked at her hands. “Paws are no good for writing or turning pages. ‘Speaking’ is limited to ‘one bark for yes, two barks for no’ answers to questions, and that’s only when people aren’t around to notice that the ‘dog’ is acting odd. When you’re a dog you get pretty good at listening. It’s what you do best.” Is that why I’m a dog? Is the Goddess trying to get me to listen? If so, to what?

“It must be frustrating,” Lina remarked.

“Very.”

“I don’t think I’d like it. It would be nice to turn into a bird and fly away from here, but I guess I’m glad I’m not a shape-changer.”

Zora opened her mouth and then quickly shut it. You look like a shape-changer. You have the same body type that I do, that all of my cousins so—even Catriona has it. Under all the clothing you wear it doesn’t show, but even though you look slender, you have muscles instead of fat—and you don’t do the kind of exercise that we do to get them. I wonder...

What she said was, “Could you ask the First Priestess? About the rock and the water?”

Lina sighed. “All right, if you really want me to. I have a lesson tomorrow, anyway.”

Zora was prevented from asking what sort of lesson by Catriona’s calling Lina. As she walked in dog-shape back through the labyrinth she thought, Whether the Goddess intends to teach me to listen or not, I’m certainly being forced to learn patience. I just wish it was easier. But then I guess it wouldn’t be patience. She grinned to herself, thinking what a prayer for it would sound like. Lady, grant me patience—right now!

~o0o~

To Zora’s surprise, Lina actually did remember her question. After breakfast the next morning they went down to the chapel’s antechamber—but instead of going into the chapel, they went down the tunnel that stretched off to the side. Catriona waited on the bench in the antechamber behind them. Presumably wherever we’re going is safe enough that Lina doesn’t need a bodyguard.

They came out of the corridor into a largish room, rather like an underground version of a solar. There was a rectangular table with six chairs around it, a couple of padded couches along the walls, a sideboard and several tall cabinets, and a lot of curtained doorways. Five of them were on one wall, and their curtains were drawn back, displaying small rooms with simple furnishings. Each one held a bed, neatly made and covered with a wool blanket, a clothing chest, and a washstand. Light came in through some sort of translucent crystal high on the wall of each room, providing illumination in the main room as well.

A woman, presumably the First Priestess, stood at the table waiting for Lina. She wore the green robe and veil that all the priestesses wore, but the veil was thrown back so that her face was visible. She had the look of someone resigned to the duty of teaching but with no great hopes for her student.

“First Priestess,” Lina said politely, taking a seat at the table. The woman sat opposite her.

“Is there anything particular that you would like to discuss today, Lady?” The priestess clearly expected either a ‘no’ or perhaps no reply at all.

“Yes,” Lina said.

Zora was lying on the floor beside Lina’s chair, so she saw the priestess’s muscles twitch under her long tunic as if the woman was startled—as if the furniture suddenly spoke. She doesn’t seem to expect much of Lina. I think she’d be less startled if I had asked the question.

“I was wondering about the rock in the chapel. The one with the water. What does it do?”

“It’s an anchor point, Lady,” the priestess replied, suddenly sounding much more interested in the lesson.

I bet she was getting even more bored and frustrated than Lina was.

The priestess continued, “It’s a place where two elements—earth and water, in this case—mix smoothly together. Earth and Water are female elements—”

That would be a surprise to Galin—and the Lord of Water, Zora thought, remembering the temple at home.

“—while Air and Fire are male elements.”

—and to Akila and the Lady of Fire.

“The rock in the chapel represents the body of the Goddess, while the water represents her blood. When they are mixed in such a fashion, they are a source of power, as well as a reminder that the Queen’s body serves the same function during major rituals.”

Rituals, plural? How many are there?

“The reason that you spend time next to them each day is so that your body will have the strength and knowledge it needs for these rituals. Does that help with your question?”

“Yes.” Lina’s voice was oddly subdued. “Thank you.”

She sounds as if something is troubling her. Zora was surprised to find that she was feeling protective toward Lina. She had started out thinking Lina was a useless idiot, but spending all that time with her—and having her be the only person Zora could talk to—was creating a bond between them. She might be an idiot, but she’s my idiot.

“First Priestess?” Lina asked tentatively. “Is it really necessary to have the Sacrifice? Does the Goddess need it?”

“I don’t know whether the Goddess does—perhaps not, given that the occasional king does survive. The people, however, definitely do.”

“The people?” Lina sounded incredulous.

Why would the people need the Sacrifice if the Goddess doesn’t?

“Why do you do the morning and evening rituals on the balcony in front of the palace each day?”

“Uh...because you told me to?”

Dear Lady, it’s like listening to Kassie! Why does the Goddess choose the ignorant? Did all the studying I did disqualify me?

The priestess sighed audibly. “Well, at least you do them. No, Lina, the reason you do them is so the people know and are reminded each day that the Queen is their intermediary, that she stands between them and the Goddess. As for the Sacrifice, there have been attempts to end it, but they have not gone well.”

“What happened?” Lina asked curiously. Zora was wondering that too.

“A couple of generations ago one of the Queens decreed that the Year-King not be sacrificed. We have no idea why—perhaps she fell in love with him. On the proper day the people dragged them to the terrace and pushed both of them into the waterfall. And the harvest was particularly good that year, so the next Queen didn’t try to argue about it.”

“They killed a Queen?”

“Need I remind you that the Queen cannot simply decree anything she wants? The Queen reigns at the will of the Goddess, but also at the will of the people.”

“That doesn’t make sense.”

“Does it make any more sense if I say that the Queen serves both the Goddess and the people?”

That makes sense to me. I wonder if that’s true at Eagle’s Rest—it always seemed to me that the gods cared much more about the rituals than the people did. I think a lot of the people just take the gods for granted and think that dealing with them is the job of the priests and priestesses.

“I guess it makes more sense that way.” After a moment of silence Lina added, “Do you think it would have made a difference if the Queen had tried to end the Sacrifice before the Choosing?”

That’s a really good question.

The First Priestess gasped. “Don’t even think of that!”

“Why not? I can see that once a Year-King had been Chosen—”

“Did you know that you were born in a famine year?”

What does that have to do with anything?

“What? Did my mother do something wrong?”

“No, your mother was an excellent Queen. The problem was her Heiress, who apparently felt as you do. She tried to stop the Choosing.”

“Is that possible?” Lina asked, with a faint note of hope in her voice.

“No, it is not,” the priestess replied firmly. “Druscilla, unfortunately, seems to have paid even less attention to her lessons than you sometimes do.”

The Heiress was named Druscilla? Like my mother? She can’t mean my mother—it must just be someone with the same name. I’ve never heard of anyone else named that, but that doesn’t prove anything.

“What did she do?”

The priestess’s voice was clipped and disapproving. “She made a scene during the ceremony itself.”

Actually, that does sound like my mother. And I do look a lot like Lina, which would make sense if we’re relatives. But...

“The Shield-Bearer had to knock her out and remove her from the plaza,” the priestess continued. “She was packed off to her country estate the next day, but apparently it wasn’t enough. Even though the Sacrifice was performed, there was unseasonal rain. Part of the harvest couldn’t be gathered, and the weather was so wet that much of what had been gathered rotted in the barns. We had to import food to get us through the winter, and we were lucky we were able to do that.”

“Do you think the Goddess will ever end the Sacrifice?”

“I don’t know, Lina. Ask her.”

~o0o~

To Lina’s ill-concealed dismay, Kyril was not at the palace when she went up to the main floor after her lesson. Apparently there were no petitions to be heard that morning, so there was no court, and Lina had nothing better to do than her needlework. So she and Zora ended up in the courtyard between the wings of the castle, sitting with one of the silent green-robed priestesses—Lina always had one as a shadow whenever she was not in either her private rooms or the underground temple complex—and Lady Esme.

Zora didn’t like Lady Esme. She reminded Zora of the dark shadow from her dreams at Eagle’s Rest, and she smelled of bitter burnt herbs, as if she spent her spare time brewing something nasty in a stillroom. She never seemed to miss an opportunity to “accidently” kick Zora, and she wore hard shoes, rather than the soft slippers that most of the women at Court wore. The Guards wore boots, of course, but they paid attention to where they were putting their feet and made sure to avoid things like Zora’s tail. By now, of course, it was difficult for anyone to step on Zora’s tail because she had learned to keep it pulled in next to her body. But there was no way for her to protect her ribs from Lady Esme’s swinging feet.

Kyril turned up in time for the midday meal, but Colin wasn’t with him. Zora was very glad when it was time to go back to the chapel for the afternoon meditation.

~o0o~

“Zora,” Lina said when they were alone in the chapel and Zora was in human shape again. “Can you change on your own, without the—whatever the First Priestess called it? Kyril seems to think you should be able to.”

“She called it an anchor point, Lina. I don’t know if I can change anywhere else; I haven’t tried to change unless I’m in here and touching the water.” Zora considered the matter. “I think the Goddess wants me to stay a dog in order to learn something.”

“Like what?”

Zora shrugged. “Patience? How to listen?”

“Speaking of listening, did you hear what Kyril said about the famine?”

“No. When was he talking about that?”

“At lunchtime. I guess you were busy concentrating on wolfing down your food.” Lina grinned. “Pun intended.”

Zora chuckled. “Are we being a bad influence on you?”

“It’s nice to have someone my own age to talk to,” Lina said. “Anyway, he said that his father sent grain here from his estates so people didn’t starve. Apparently that’s why his aunt has a house here—she was the one handling the details.”

“It’s certainly convenient for Kyril—it gives him a place to stay, at least.”

“As well as a place where he can change shape if he needs to,” Lina remarked. “You said that you could turn into a wolf—what do you look like that way? You can change in here. Can you show me?”

“I don’t know if it will work, but I’ll try it.” Zora rolled to hands and knees and then touched her lips to the water while concentrating on wolf- rather than dog-shape.

The change was easy and smooth, but Lina gasped as she finished. Zora looked up to see Lina staring at her, the fingers of her left hand pressing against her open mouth. A quick glance at the water, now still again, reflected the wolf.

“Z-Zora?” Lina sounded a bit afraid.

Which is silly, because she asked me to do this. And once again, I can’t talk, so I can’t use words to reassure her. Zora paced around the stone until she was directly in front of Lina. With the wall behind her, she had no place to go, but she looked as if she would back into the wall if she could. Zora pushed her head under Lina’s right hand and butted up against it in the unspoken “Pet me, human” command. Lina automatically began stroking the wolf’s head and laughed shakily.

I wonder if I can— Zora visualized the change from wolf to dog. To her surprise—and Lina’s—it worked. Now let’s see if I can make it back to human. She managed, but this time it took real effort. Zora sagged against the bench next to Lina’s legs and tried to catch her breath.

“You did it without touching the water,” Lina said, obviously impressed.

“True, but it used to be much easier than this.” Zora stopped talking and concentrated on breathing. Lady, why did you do this to me? What do you want me to learn?

Humility.

Oh. As in, helpless and having to wait for the people around me to take care of me, and unable to talk so that I have to learn how to listen?

That’s a fair description.

Do you think I’ve learned enough so that I can be allowed to change normally again? I agree that Princess is a good shape for following Lina around, but perhaps there are some things I should be learning in Diadem as a human.

Are you asking me to allow you to change as you could before you came here?

Please, Lady. I’m getting very tired of being a bitch.

Lina jerked suddenly. “Did you hear that? It sounded like someone laughing.”

“Oh, yes,” Zora said. “I heard her. The Goddess has an unusual sense of humor.”

“Does that mean that she’s done keeping you a dog?”

“Yes, I’m pretty sure that it does. And if she’s letting me change to human again, that means there’s something she wants me to do in that shape.”

Lina frowned. “But how do we explain having two of me?”

“We don’t.” The Goddess didn’t have to tell Zora this. “The fact that we look alike is something we need to keep secret. I have a feeling we’re going to need to use that, which we can’t do if people know there are two of us.”

“So what do we do?”

“First, you give Kyril his dog back.” Lina opened her mouth to protest, so Zora added quickly, “He can still bring me to visit you, but the palace has too many people—and too little privacy—for me to be changing back and forth outside this chapel.”

“I guess you’re right,” Lina said reluctantly. “I’ll let Kyril take you home with him tomorrow—but you had better visit me!”

“I will. I promise.”

~o0o~

Kyril looked bewildered at Lina’s sudden willingness to send Zora home with him. Colin was quicker on the uptake. “Thank you very much, Lady,” he said fervently. “I appreciate your confidence, and I’ll take very good care of her. I’ve missed her.”

Lina stared into Colin’s face for so long that Kyril looked annoyed. Apparently whatever she saw satisfied her, for she said, “I’m sure you will.”

“I’ll bring her to visit you,” Kyril said. “If you permit, I’ll continue to visit you myself, even if I can’t bring her with me.”

Lina smiled faintly. “I’d like that.”

“I’ll take the dog home now,” Colin volunteered. “You can stay here with the Queen until they make you leave.”

“Fine,” Kyril said absently, his eyes still on Lina.

Colin and Zora left them together.

When they got home, Colin took Zora up to his room, gave her a pair of his pants and a tunic, and went into the hall while she changed.

“I’m sorry,” he apologized when she let him back in. “All of your clothes are still packed.”

“That’s actually a good thing.” Zora had been planning her sudden appearance as a human as they walked home. “Send the housekeeper out on an errand. While she’s gone, I’ll dig out traveling clothes, rub some dust on them, and put them on. By the time she gets back, I’ll be sitting with you in the parlor, having just arrived, complete with my baggage—you do have that stored somewhere, right? We’ll stick to the truth. I’m Kyril’s cousin and I’ve come to live here. By the time she’s arranged for the bath I am going to demand, made up a room for me, and redone the menus to feed three of us instead of just you two, she’ll have forgotten any questions she might have had.”

“Including why a woman is traveling alone?”

“This is Diadem, Colin. It’s a matriarchy, haven’t you noticed? She won’t expect me to have a chaperone.”

“And the dog?”

“Warn Kyril to keep his mouth shut, and she’ll think the dog is still at the palace. As long as he keeps visiting the Queen, who’s going to notice? Everyone will think Princess is someplace else. Also, now that I can change back and forth, I can go out in the garden in dog-shape first thing in the morning, and then change back to human for the rest of the day.” Zora twisted a strand of hair in front of her face and regarded it thoughtfully. “The only major problem is my resemblance to the Queen.” She changed her hair from blonde to dark brown and made it about six inches longer. “Does this change my appearance enough, do you think?”

Colin looked startled. “Well, it doesn’t look like you, that’s certain.”

Zora shrugged. “Then it doesn’t look like her. I guess it will do.”

~o0o~

The plan worked as Zora had predicted. She spent the afternoon soaking in a warm bath, washing her hair for the first time in weeks, and using pumice on her hands and feet. Not bathing didn’t bother me when I was a dog most of the time, but as soon as I start to think of myself as a full-time human, my grooming standards change. She unpacked the saddlebags she had put her belongings in before they entered Diadem, arranging her clothing and making a pile to be washed. That night she slept in a bed that was not at floor level. It felt a bit strange after weeks of blankets and cushions on the floor, but she told herself to enjoy it. The Goddess only knew how long this phase of her life would last.

Princess accompanied Kyril to court a few mornings while his cousin Zora was ostensibly sleeping late, and the Queen looked both relieved and delighted to see her.

There was only one thing Zora had failed to take into account, and that wasn’t her fault. She hadn’t known anything about it until the guard showed up at their house.