Chapter 9

 

Zora’s lessons started the next morning, and nothing at Eagle’s Rest had even begun to prepare her for them. She woke at dawn in what was now her room. The light came from a short, wide window placed high in the stone wall above the bed. The ceiling overhead was made of wooden planks supported by thick crossbeams, but the rest of the room appeared to be cut out of rock. It was small, little wider than the bed was long. At the foot of the bed was a plain wooden chest used to hold clothing, and the only clothing in it was a spare set of green robes. I wonder what happened to the clothing I wore to the Choosing. I hope that I’ll get it back at some point; it’s my best outfit. There was no other furniture in the room, unless one counted the dark curtain which served as a door.

Being trained by the priestesses in Diadem was different from anything she had previously experienced. At home, even though the priests and priestesses had been teaching her to be a priestess, it was—well, not as formal. Zora had lived with her family, or stayed in the girls’ dormitory with Lord Ranulf’s other students, and lessons had been part of her normal, if occasionally chaotic, life.

Here, however... All the Goddesses are one Goddess. Zora had been told that before, both by her human teachers and by the voice of the Goddess. That may be so, Lady, but I think you left a few details out. Why am I here again? Not just in Diadem, but why am I in this place?

The Goddess didn’t answer. Zora wished she would, because there was a lot of silence in the temple complex, and it was driving her crazy.

It wasn’t that anyone was unkind to her, but...there were a lot of little things for her to learn in addition to what the priestesses thought she was supposed to be learning. Silent meals, for example. Zora had never been at any meal that was eaten in silence—back at Eagle’s Rest most meals were noisy, with everyone talking at once. But the priestesses here valued silence. They said it made them more receptive to the voice of the Goddess.

Zora asked during one of her lessons if they heard actual words and was startled to be told that they didn’t.

“Very few people actually hear the Goddess talk to them,” the First Priestess had explained. “Some of the Queens do—though I’m fairly sure Lina isn’t one of them, at least not yet. The rest of us keep silence so that if the Goddess does choose to speak to us, we can hear her. If we don’t hear actual words or see visions, we contemplate what we know of the Goddess, what she has taught us in the past through the Queens, and we consider whether our actions will be pleasing to her.”

I’m not certain that the way you’ve been treating Lina would please the Goddess, Zora thought. I believe we are supposed to be supporting the Queen, not making her miserable. To be fair, however, there is a lot more making Lina miserable than the way the priestesses act. They may not help much, but they aren’t the main cause of her misery.

Silence started with evening prayers and didn’t end until after breakfast the next day. All meals were eaten in silence—except when Zora knocked her spoon against the side of her bowl, or set down a cup so hard that everyone heard the clunk it made as it hit the table. No student of Lord Ranulf’s actually was clumsy, but trying to keep silence while surrounded by women who had probably been doing so for longer than she had been alive certainly made Zora feel horribly clumsy, noisy, and self-conscious. An additional challenge was trying to eat at the same rate as everyone else; the other priestesses had a rhythm that eluded her. Zora wondered despairingly how many years it took to finish eating at the same time as everyone else—the four priestesses seemed to finish together effortlessly, and then they waited for Zora to finish. Nothing in that to make a person feel awkward...

The priestesses were kind enough, but it was only too obvious that they hadn’t expected her and were at a loss as to where to put her. The room Zora slept in—they called it a cell, and she certainly didn’t disagree—was the one used by the Queen, although nobody had explained why the Queen had a room down here when she had a perfectly good bedchamber upstairs. The large table in the common room where they ate had a chair at the head, which was the Queen’s, two chairs on each side for the four priestesses, and a chair at the foot of the table that had been brought in from someplace else (it didn’t match the ones that were there already). The really annoying thing was that when Zora sat in it, her feet didn’t quite touch the floor.

At the end of the night silence, after breakfast, the priestesses met together in the common room to discuss the day’s schedule and divide up the tasks to be done. Having Zora to train was apparently a substantial addition to their work, but she had to struggle not to laugh when she overheard one of them mutter “At least she can read.”

“These are the proper forms of address,” said the First Priestess. “The Queen is addressed as Lady if you are talking to her and referred to as the Queen when you are talking about her. Her personal name is not used outside the temple. The Year-King is called Lord Kyril, and if he has siblings or children here in Diadem, they are called Lord or Lady.”

“So Esme wasn’t Lady Esme until her father was Chosen, right?” Zora asked. “And if a Year-King survives, does he keep the title, like Lord Ranulf?”

“Yes, those are both valid examples. The priestesses,” she continued, “are more complex than usual right now. Normally there are four of us, and we are referred to as First Priestess, Second Priestess, Third Priestess, and Fourth Priestess. I am also called Eldest, and the Fourth Priestess is called Youngest. But you would technically be the Youngest, and you would be the Fifth Priestess if there were such a title.” She paused and shook her head. “For the time being we will not use the title Youngest, and we will simply call you Sister, as we wait for the Goddess to clarify what role she has chosen you for.”

At least the Goddess has finally chosen me for something, whatever it is. Even though Zora felt awkward and uncertain in the temple, she was relieved by that. It’s better than being a dog—at least I hope so.

“Follow me,” the Eldest commanded, rising and leading Zora down an underground hallway to a small room that apparently served as the temple’s library. It had shelves along the back and right walls, and a long desk was attached to the left wall. “Since you can read, we’ll let you learn as much as you can that way.” She pulled several volumes from the shelves and placed them on the end of the desk farthest from the door. “Start with these, and ask me later if there’s anything in them you don’t understand. We will be questioning you on the contents to be certain that you remember and understand them.”

She left, and Zora happily immersed herself in the books. These were “everything you wanted to know while you were a dog and couldn’t ask about it.” The subjects included the history of Diadem, the lineage of the Queens (apparently after they were dead, using their names was allowed, or maybe these books just never left the temple), and several centuries worth of harvest records with notes about the corresponding Year-Kings. Zora found the last particularly fascinating.

In addition to the crops, weather conditions, and harvest yields, the scroll gave the name of each Year-King, his age, whether he was from Diadem or elsewhere (if he wasn’t from Diadem, the scroll simply said “foreign”—apparently they didn’t care where he came from), along with any special comments about the Choosing and Sacrifice rituals. Zora started with the previous year (“Pelar, age 50, Diadem, widower, survived by daughter Esme, age 31, all taxes forgiven for her lifetime”), and worked her way backward through years marked “interregnum” and the last Sacrifice of the previous Queen’s reign. Then she came to the Sacrifice that took place ten months before her birth.

The entry started innocuously enough: “Briam, age 18, foreign,” but the notes were a real shock. They included “survived by sister Akila,” and they described the Choosing in detail. Zora had been wondering on and off if the Druscilla they talked about was her mother and had begun to suspect that it was, but she could never have imagined the rest. How could Father have been a Year-King? And how did Mother end up married to him, especially if she’s the Heiress? And he wasn’t a shape-changer, so how did he survive the Sacrifice?

Reading the account of the Choosing ritual, she wasn’t surprised that they’d sent Druscilla away—the surprise was that they hadn’t strangled her permanently on the spot. No wonder everyone agreed that Druscilla would be hopeless as Queen. They probably wouldn’t want her back even if they knew she was still alive. But Lina is a lot like her. Then Zora realized something that should have been immediately obvious. We have the same father. That makes us half-sisters. And if my mother is the Heiress... She turned back to the book about the Queens. The last Queen and my mother’s mother were sisters. I guess that explains why Lina and I look so much alike. It’s not some sort of divine action. It’s simple inheritance.

But how did Father survive the Sacrifice? And if he was supposed to die then, is that why he died in an earthquake a few years later? Somebody had said something... Now, if I could just remember what... It was something about a famine the year the Queen was born. Is this why Mother promised me to the Goddess—to try to make up for whatever it was she did? But what in Earth did she do?

~o0o~

Zora was thankful that lunch was eaten in silence, because she was afraid to open her mouth. My father was supposed to have died before I was even conceived, and judging by the records, everyone here thinks he did. Put that together with what the Eldest told Lina about the people needing the Sacrifice...

Zora resolved not to mention her parents. To anyone. She wished fervently that she were still back at Eagle’s Rest having lessons with Marfa. Marfa—and the rest of the priests—had expected to her study hard and learn, but life there hadn’t been as...well, treacherous. Doing the wrong thing there would get you corrected, or possibly scolded, but being grounded after the fish incident was the only time Zora had been punished. Here, if she said the wrong thing to the wrong person, she didn’t know what would happen, but she was horribly afraid that somebody could die.

Zora realized the room had become totally silent and looked up from her plate. To her embarrassment she discovered that everyone else had finished eating and they were waiting for her, so all of them could leave the table. Again. Lowering her head so she didn’t have to look at them, she ate as quickly and quietly as she could. As soon as she had finished, they all stood, and the Eldest said the post-meal blessing. Zora stumbled over the responses. I can’t do anything right today! She did manage to copy the way the others stacked their dishes together so she didn’t drop anything as she followed them down a short hall to a small anteroom where they left their dishes on a tray on a wooden shelf next to a closed wooden door. Somebody else must bring our food and take our dishes, she thought. Is there a hall to the main kitchen on the other side of that door?

As they returned to the common room, the Third Priestess fell back to walk next to Zora, who, as the Youngest, was at the end of the line. “Don’t worry, child. It takes a while to learn the rhythm of life here, and nobody expects you to be perfect at the beginning. I had a horrible time getting used to the silence when I first came here. You’ll do fine.” She gave Zora a consoling pat on the arm, and Zora blinked back tears.

“Thank you, Elder Sister,” she whispered. “It does all feel a bit strange right now.”

They joined the First and Second Priestesses in the common room. Before anyone could ask Zora about her morning’s reading, the Fourth Priestess stalked into the room from the other side, from the tunnel that led to the Queen’s chapel, if Zora was remembering the layout of the rooms correctly.

“We had no idea how lucky we were with Queen Zoradah,” she snarled, “and I would believe that wretched girl is not her daughter if there hadn’t been so many witnesses to the birth.”

For one horrible moment, Zora thought that the priestess had said “Queen Zora,” but then she remembered that she had seen the name of Lina’s mother in the Book of Queens. She just hadn’t realized that it was pronounced so much like her own.

“May I assume, since you are here, that the Queen is meditating in her chapel?” the Eldest said sternly.

“She’s in her chapel,” the Fourth snapped, “but if she’s not crying her stupid little head off, it will be the first time she’s stopped since the Choosing.”

I wonder how Kyril is taking that. He’s bound to be upset.

“What of the king?” the Second asked. “Is he any help?”

The Fourth collapsed on the couch. “He tries, but she’s still blaming him for not staying out all day hunting so he wouldn’t be Chosen. It was a ghastly morning.” She leaned back and closed her eyes. “I’m getting too old for this.”

“Headache?” the Third asked sympathetically.

“I wish it would just finish splitting my head open and let me die.”

The Second was already moving to a cupboard against the wall. She opened it and pulled out a small bottle. “Here,” she said, “drink this.”

The Fourth poured it straight down her throat—as if she’s trying to avoid tasting it, which would make sense because it’s probably distilled willow bark and very bitter.

“Just lie there and keep your eyes closed,” the Second continued. “We’ll let you know when you need to get up again.”

The Fourth thanked her in a faint voice and then went limp. Zora looked at her in alarm, but the Third said softly, “She has put herself into a trance, that’s all. It’s a useful trick for dealing with pain. We’ll have to teach it to you.”

“It sounds as though I may need it,” Zora replied, keeping her voice low. “Should I go back to my reading now?”

“Yes, do that. I’ll call you for supper.”

“Sister? Am I allowed to attend the evening ritual?” Zora wanted to see for herself how Lina was doing.

“Not just yet, I’m afraid. Probably in a few weeks, but you’ll have to be veiled.”

Zora retreated to the library to see if she could find anything on the training of a priestess or the rules they lived by. Her search came up empty, so she took a history of Diadem and started in on that. I need to learn more about how things work around here, and I need to learn it fast.

~o0o~

It was the middle of the night, and Zora couldn’t get to sleep. She was worried about so many things she couldn’t even sort them out, resulting in an overwhelming feeling of panic. And I’m shut away from anyone who could give me answers. I wish I could go home and talk to Aunt Akila, or Uncle Ranulf, or even my mother—although she’d probably just have hysterics and refuse to tell me anything. But that reminded her that there was a place in Diadem she had been calling home. As long as I’m back before anyone misses me...

She changed shape into an owl, counting on the shape’s silent flight and the fact that most people didn’t look up, and flew quickly through the tunnel to the chapel, up the stairwell, and out the nearest window. Once she had enough altitude, it was simple to find their house and go in through her bedroom window. She changed back to human, threw on some clothes, and went to tap softly on Colin’s door.

Apparently he hadn’t been sleeping well either, because he opened it almost immediately. “Zora!” he said in surprise. “Where have you been? What’s going on? I’ve been worried sick!”

“Nobody told you?” she asked. “All I know is that I passed out during the Choosing and didn’t wake up until the next day. I’ve been in a complex under the palace ever since—apparently the Goddess wants me to serve her here.”

“No, nobody bothered to tell me,” Colin said bitterly. “You just disappeared while everyone was distracted by Kyril’s being Chosen. Did they tell you he’s the new Year-King?”

“They didn’t have to,” Zora sighed. “Remember the venison? The Queen really was trying to keep him away from the city. When I woke up she was still having hysterics. It was almost as bad as being home with my mother. I haven’t seen her since I first woke up underground, but I hear she’s still crying.”

“If you think the Goddess wants you here, I suppose you’re going to stay here,” Colin said with resignation.

“I don’t want to find out what happens if I don’t sneak back in before someone misses me,” Zora said. “Everyone is upset right now. But I wanted to see you and make sure you were all right.”

“I’m fine,” Colin said, “but I feel suddenly superfluous.”

“You haven’t seen Kyril?” Zora asked in surprise. Colin shook his head. “Actually, there is something you could do to help me.”

“Name it.”

“Fly back to Eagle’s Rest and talk to Aunt Akila and Uncle Ranulf. There’s something very strange going on here.”

“Aside from both you and Kyril being chosen?”

Zora nodded vigorously. “You can’t tell anyone you know about this—especially my mother—but the Queen and I are half-sisters.” Colin looked blank, and she didn’t blame him. “She and I have the same father, and everyone here seems to think that he died here, that summer, not three years later at Eagle’s Rest.”

“But he wasn’t a shape-changer, was he?”

“No. Aunt Akila says he wasn’t, even though he was her twin and she’s one.” Zora shivered. “Somebody must have taken his place for the Sacrifice, and there was a famine here that year.”

“And he died in an earthquake, didn’t he?” Colin asked.

“He died, my mother—who was apparently the late Queen’s Heiress until the Queen was born—was crippled, and I didn’t get a scratch on me. I don’t know who did what, but something is very wrong. I’m floundering around in the dark, and I don’t dare talk to anyone here about it!”

“I can see that,” Colin agreed. “‘Oh, by the way, my mother was the Heiress and my father was the Year-King everybody thinks died leaving only one daughter’...”

“Exactly,” Zora nodded. “It’s bad enough that they know Kyril’s father was a Year-King without finding out that mine was as well, especially because my very existence proves that he didn’t die when he was supposed to have.”

“Are you sure they know that Kyril’s father was a Year-King?”

“Has anyone called you ‘Lord Colin’ since you’ve been here?”

Colin shook his head. “Oh. Is that why they call him Lord Kyril?”

“Lord Kyril. Lady Esme. If a member of your family is the Year-King, you get called Lord or Lady for the rest of your life.”

“So I get to go home and tell Lady Akila that, in addition to her husband and her brother, her son is the Year-King?”

“I wouldn’t worry about Kyril’s survival,” Zora reassured him. “Apparently Lord Ranulf’s swimming test is derived from the Sacrifice.”

“Really?” Colin thought that over for several moments. Finally he said, “I always wondered why they drugged us.”

Zora nodded. “That’s why, all right. I got that out of the Queen, back when she and I were spending our afternoons in the chapel together.” She sighed. “She was a lot calmer then. I have the impression that nobody has gotten a coherent sentence out of her since Kyril was Chosen, but they won’t let me see her. They won’t even let me go to the daily rituals.”

“I’ll go to the morning one before I leave,” Colin said. “I’ll find out as much as I can here tomorrow and then head north tomorrow night.” He frowned. “How do I find you when I get back?”

“I don’t know,” Zora said. “Even when they do let me out of the temple complex, I’ll be one of those women in the green robes and veils, not allowed to talk. But you can probably find Kyril and talk to him, at least. Maybe you can have him ask for you to be one of his Companions.”

“Right. Maybe we could all pass notes.” Colin didn’t sound convinced.

“I’ve been winging it since we got here,” Zora said. “Speaking of which, I need to change back to an owl and sneak back before I’m missed.”

“Owl?”

She shrugged. “Quiet, blends into the dark, and really hard to catch if anyone happens to see me. Besides—”

“—most people don’t look up,” they finished in unison.

~o0o~

With Kyril occupied with the Queen and Colin away in search of something that would make sense of what was going on, Zora threw herself into learning to become a model young priestess.

The daily routine in the temple was simple. Zora spent the mornings in the book room reading, which was easily her favorite part of the day. In the afternoon she had lessons in the common room, taught by the priestesses not currently attending the Queen. Too bad their teaching style comes from trying to teach Lina things she never wanted to learn. It’s annoying to be treated the way they treat her, and it’s not fair! I do want to learn. I just have to be careful what I say... If I agree with them that Druscilla was not a suitable Heiress, I’m going to have to explain where I met her.

Then came supper, and bedtime. Repeat. Day after day. After day. The worst part is being stuck in here. At least when I was a dog I was allowed outside!

After a couple of weeks, however, Zora became accustomed to the rhythm of temple life. Meals became easier—and quieter—as she started eating at nearly the same pace as everyone else. She also learned to appreciate the silence. It no longer made her desperate for someone to talk to.

Zora sat at the table one morning, eyes lowered so that they fell on her empty bowl. Even if I don’t hear the Goddess, the silence gives me lots of time to think—especially about whether I really want to serve the Goddess. It was different at home. Serving her here means being part of having someone be killed each year—and I’m not sure I can do that. I want to serve her, but killing people doesn’t seem like the act of a loving Mother. We all return to her in the fullness of time, so why do the people here think she needs human sacrifice?

~o0o~

Zora woke up one morning and realized that she had completely forgotten about guard training. Was it time for swim training to resume? It was hard to keep track of time in the temple, where every day was the same.

“Eldest?” she asked, when the silence ended after breakfast. “Could you tell me what day it is, please?”

The First Priestess stared at Zora in astonishment. “Why in Earth would you need to know?”

“I’m supposed to go back for more guard training after the break for the festival is over.”

“That’s nonsense! Spring training ends before the Choosing.”

“For most people, yes. But I’m one of the swimmers, and that training schedule goes all through the summer. I don’t want to just not show up if I’m supposed to be there.”

“I believe the Call of the Goddess supersedes anything else that might have been happening in your life,” the Eldest said sternly. “But,” she added, “it is good that you are mindful of your obligations. I shall speak to the Sword-Bearer.”

“Thank you,” Zora said meekly. She went to the book room, where her studies were still providing new and fascinating information. Today she found an explanation of the calendar used in Diadem, which wasn’t at all like the one at home. The year started at dawn after the Longest Night, and was divided into eight parts, called eighths. The third and seventh eights started on the days in the spring and fall when the days and nights were the same length. The fourth eighth started the day of the Choosing. The fifth eighth started on the Longest Day, and there was something called “First Fruits” then. The Sacrifice took place around the middle of the sixth eighth, ten weeks after the Longest Day. Zora resolved to make a private calendar so she would know when the Sacrifice was coming up, but she would have to wait until the Longest Day to start counting because she didn’t know how many days it had been since the Choosing.

~o0o~

The next morning the Eldest told Zora to put on her veil and reminded her that she was to remain silent while wearing it. She then put on her own veil and escorted Zora though yet another set of hallways Zora hadn’t seen before until they reached the Sword-Bearer’s office.

Catriona was already there, looking unusually grim. “Thank you, Eldest,” she said. “I’ll escort her back when I’m done with her.”

“This is most irregular,” the priestess complained.

“I know,” Catriona said, “but I need to speak with her alone.” The priestess left, shaking her head.

Catriona closed the door behind her, locked it, and then yanked the veil from Zora’s head and glared at her.

“What were you thinking?” Catriona kept her voice low, but she sounded furious.

“What was I thinking when?” Zora asked blankly. She was pretty sure that only the fact that there could be people in the neighboring rooms kept Catriona from screaming, but she had no idea why. “I didn’t want to just disappear from my assigned training with no explanation. Why are you so upset?”

Catriona slapped a hand on a pile of papers on her desk. “Do you know what these are?

Zora shook her head, still mystified. Catriona had always been kind to her, even when she was a dog. Now she was acting as if Zora had done something very wrong, but she had no idea what it could be.

“These are your training and injury reports.” Catriona added grimly, “and I’ve talked to the swimmers. I gather that the very first day you nearly killed yourself by swimming upriver to the bottom of the waterfall—and then, in addition to the risks you were running in the water, you were training with live blades!”

“I didn’t get ‘nearly killed’ by the waterfall,” Zora said indignantly. “All I got were a few bruises! And everyone except absolute beginners trains with live blades for knife and sword work! I should think you’d be pleased that I made that much progress in a month, especially considering that I had no prior training with weapons.”

“Did the Queen tell you anything about her training?”

“No,” Zora said, bewildered by the sudden change of subject. “Kyril told me that all she did was archery, but she never talked to me about it at all.”

“Yes, the Queen is restricted to archery. She’s much too valuable to be risked in close combat. Did it truly not occur to you that the same restrictions would apply to the Heiress?”

“No. Why would it? Besides, what does that have to do with me?”

Catriona stared at Zora, her mouth hanging open. It was at least a minute before she managed to speak. “What, exactly, did your mother tell you about Diadem?”

“Nothing!” Zora suddenly flashed back to the helpless frustration she had felt when she was confined to her mother’s rooms. “I’d never even heard of Diadem before I came here.”

Catriona sighed. “Did you know that your mother was the Heiress until the present Queen was born?”

“I was beginning to suspect that she might be, after I heard enough people talk about her,” Zora admitted, “but there really wasn’t anyone I could ask about it. I didn’t know anything when I came here, but I’ve heard people—mostly the priestesses—talk about Druscilla, and I saw the records...” She paused and then blurted out, “If my mother was the Heiress described in the records, was my father the Year-King?”

“Yes.” It was a grim monosyllable.

“How did he survive?”

“I suspect that Akila and Druscilla contrived something between them, but I never asked. Remember that most people here don’t know he survived, so don’t tell anyone he’s still alive.”

Zora stared at her in surprise. “He’s not. He died in an earthquake when I was a baby.”

Catriona blinked. “Did he indeed? What about your mother—was she hurt?”

“Yes. The house we were living in collapsed, and her legs were crushed. She can’t walk without help, even now. I was lucky—there wasn’t a scratch on me when they dug us out. I don’t even remember it.”

“Do you get a lot of earthquakes at Eagle’s Rest?”

“I don’t think so. That was the only one I ever heard of.”

Catriona sighed. “I don’t know who took Briam’s place for the Sacrifice, but, knowing your family, I’m sure someone did. Most people blame the disaster that ruined the harvest on your mother’s behavior at the Choosing, but I think it’s more likely the Goddess was angry that someone meddled so the Year-King who was Chosen was not the Sacrifice.” She shook her head. “But that’s old news. The thing that matters now is that you are the Heiress until the Queen has a daughter.”

“But isn’t my mother next after the Queen?”

“No. She renounced her claim after the present Queen was born. Even if she had not, do you really think she would be willing to come back here?”

“Well, no.” I think she’d rather throw herself out the tower window—and she can’t fly.

“Not counting your mother, you are the only one left after the Queen. This means that your life belongs to the Goddess and the people, and you are not free to take risks with it. Why do you think I spent so much time looking after you while you were a dog?”

Zora was still trying to take all of this in. “I was a dog. I wasn’t thinking much. If anything, I figured that any member of Uncle Ranulf’s family must like animals.”

Catriona choked back a laugh. “I do admit it’s a requirement. But you’re a human now. Think. Be careful. Stay in the temple with the priestesses unless I’m with you or you’re in attendance on the Queen. Do you understand?”

What you’re saying, yes. Why you’re saying it, no—not yet, anyway. “Stay in the temple unless I’m with either you or the Queen,” Zora repeated back obediently. At least that might give me a chance to sort all this out in my mind.

“Good,” Catriona said, more gently now. “Remember that I am officially your bodyguard, Zora.”

“Yes, I know. They covered the rank structure in basic orientation. The Shield-Bearer is the head of the Guards and the Queen’s bodyguard, and the Sword-Bearer is second in command and bodyguard to the Heiress. But with the Shield-Bearer being the Regent as well—and no Heiress to be guarded—you’re currently in charge of the Guards.” Zora considered the implications of that. “That means you’re not exactly free to guard me, even if we wanted to admit that I’m here, which I don’t think we do. If nobody knows I’m the Heiress, I should be safe enough—though I suppose you’re going to pull me off the swimmers’ roster.” And that takes care of any chance I might have to get outside and get any exercise.

“You suppose correctly. But if you need anything, remember that looking after you is my job, and I do consider myself your ally and, I hope, your friend. Call on me if you need any help.” Catriona rose and tossed the veil at her. “Put that on, and I’ll take you back now.”

Alone in the temple with books spread around her, Zora tried to come to grips with the changes of the last few weeks. I thought my life was completely changed when the Goddess chose Kassie. I had to come here and be Chosen myself to discover that I never knew my own parents! In fact, one could say that I never even knew myself...

~o0o~

The priestesses increased the range of Zora’s training. They didn’t tell her why, and she didn’t ask. She didn’t want to know. I’ve had enough life-changing surprises in the last few months.

Suddenly the priestesses really wanted Zora to know everything the Queen was supposed to know—as opposed to everything that Lina actually knew, which was much less than Zora was learning. I still remember her saying of the anchor point, “It’s a rock. With water on it.”

The other priestesses didn’t have to memorize the Queen’s public morning and evening rituals, but Zora was given a journal and told to copy the rituals into it. There were discussions with all four of the priestesses—and frequently with the Shield-Bearer as well—about the relationship between the Choosing, the Sacrifice, and the well-being of the land, with special emphasis on the harvest. Everyone told her at least twice that it was vital that the king who was Chosen be the Sacrifice.

Zora thought about what Catriona had not said. She was right. We don’t get earthquakes at Eagle’s Rest.

They may not know that Briam didn’t die then, but they certainly seem to know that something went wrong that year.

“Zora,” the Shield-Bearer asked one day, “do you understand why we’re telling you this?” She had come down to the temple to sit in on the afternoon lessons. At the moment they were sitting on one of the couches, a bit apart from the priestesses.

“Because it’s important?” I did hear you the first five times. You really don’t need to keep repeating it.

“Yes, it’s important,” the Shield-Bearer said grimly, “and I want to be absolutely certain that you will not try to stop or interfere with the Sacrifice.”

“Why would I do that?” Zora asked. “Kyril—” No, don’t tell her he’s a shape-changer, just in case she hasn’t figured it out. “Kyril’s father survived, so I don’t see why Kyril shouldn’t as well.”

The Shield-Bearer lowered her voice so nobody besides Zora could hear her. “You’re not planning to change your shape so you can take his place?”

Zora shook her head vigorously. She knows I’m a shape-changer, but does she know about Kyril as well? “Absolutely not! Even before I started training here I would never have done that. I know it would be wrong.”

“Have you heard of sacrifice by willing substitution?” the Shield-Bearer asked.

“Of course,” Zora said indignantly. “They did train me at home, you know. I didn’t arrive here totally ignorant. It’s a doctrine that says another person can choose to take the place of someone who is to be sacrificed. There is more power gained from a willing sacrifice than from someone who doesn’t know what’s happening and didn’t consent. But isn’t responding to the Call of the Goddess during the Choosing a type of consent?” Zora was interested enough in the question that she forgot to keep her voice down. “Pelar and Kyril both knew about the Sacrifice before they were chosen.”

One of the younger priestesses frowned. “Are you certain Lord Kyril knew?”

“Oh, yes, he knew. Remember the fuss the Queen was making about venison the morning after the Choosing? She asked him to go hunting that day so he wouldn’t be in the city during the ritual.”

“She did what?” The Eldest sounded appalled. “Are you saying the Queen deliberately tried to circumvent the Goddess’s choice?”

“I could be wrong, but that’s what Kyril and I thought at the time. He asked if I really thought he was going to stand by and watch the Queen spend the summer with another man.”

“How did you answer him?” The Shield-Bearer sounded somewhere between curious and appalled.

“I told him that if the Goddess willed it, he had better. And he said it was going to be the quickest hunt on record and that we’d see what the Goddess willed.”

“So he would have chosen to be the Year-King if he had been given a free choice...”

“He did have a free choice, and he made it. He could easily have spent the whole day hunting instead of going out well before dawn so that he would be back in time for the Choosing.” Zora considered the matter. “It’s ironic, actually. He chose to be the Year-King, and the Goddess chose him to be the Year-King. It’s only the Queen who didn’t want him to do it.”

“And what happens if he dies?” the Shield-Bearer asked.

Zora winced. “I think the Queen would take it very badly.”

“What about you?”

“I’d miss him.” Zora was appalled to find her eyes filling with tears. “We’ve lived in the same place all our lives, and I love him like a brother. But it is an honor to serve the Goddess.” And I’ve given the matter a great deal of thought—as well as being forced to consider the alternative. “If Kyril dies in her service—or if I do—well, there are a lot of deaths with much less meaning.”

“And are you willing to live in her service?” the Eldest asked sternly.

Zora regarded her with exasperation. “I’m here, aren’t I? You asked me the first day if I was willing to serve the Goddess, and my answer hasn’t changed since then.”

The youngest priestess sighed. “Why do we have a trainee who understands this intuitively while we have a Queen who can’t even be taught what’s obvious to the rest of us?”

The question was presumably rhetorical, but Zora replied softly, “I don’t think she wants to learn.”

~o0o~

The next morning Zora discovered something in the book she was studying that made her much less certain that Kyril would survive being Year-King as easily as his father had. It was a list of tasks to be done at the start of a new reign: “...at the beginning of the reign of each new Queen, additional stones are placed beneath the waterfall, so that they may be shaped by the water into memorial stones for the Kings’ Garden.”

I was already at the bottom of the waterfall, and I wasn’t drugged, and still I was black and blue for days from the stones I hit. If I’d been drugged, and then fallen down from the top of the waterfall and been caught in that turbulence— She shuddered. I could have hit my head and drowned, or I could have broken my neck—and nobody ever did answer me when I asked about the rocks.

She tried to convince herself there was no need to panic. I need to find out exactly what the Kings’ Garden is—although “memorial stones” does seem fairly clear. How many “additional” stones do they add? Lina has been Queen for about sixteen years, but she wasn’t old enough to marry until last year, so however many rocks they added, most of them are still there. Only one would have been removed as a memorial, and there are a lot of them there, judging from the brief look I got. I have got to talk to Kyril!

There were problems with that. Zora had not forgotten her promise to stay in the temple unless she was with the Queen or the Sword-Bearer. More importantly, however, she didn’t know where to find Kyril. She didn’t know if he was sleeping in the Queen’s room at night. She didn’t know how he spent his days. For all I know, he could be spending the days with his Companions and his nights sleeping in a different wing of the palace. I’ll have to trust the Goddess until I get a chance to see him—there’s no point in trying to sneak out of here if I don’t know where to look for him. But it’s so much easier to trust the Goddess if you think someone you care about isn’t in any real danger.

Fortunately, the Goddess answered Zora’s prayers before she even had a chance to frame them coherently. The priestesses decided she was ready to take her turn in attendance on the Queen.

“It’s not particularly complicated,” the Eldest explained. “You will sleep in the room between her bedchamber and the hallway, remain in the room behind the balcony during the morning and evening rituals, and stay near her in the daytime whenever she’s outside her bedchamber.”

“Except for meals,” the Third Priestess added. “You either get a tray in the room you sleep in or come back to the temple, so you can take your veil off to eat. The Queen has at least one guard with her at mealtimes, in addition to the Shield-Bearer and usually the king. One of us who’s not attending the Queen attends meals as well, although we don’t eat then.”

Zora remembered seeing veiled priestess sitting across the great hall from Lady Esme, and hoped whoever had that task was able to eat before everyone else, rather than after.

“The rest of us are around during the daytime, too,” the Second Priestess said helpfully. “If there’s court in the morning at least one of us will join you. We all try to keep track of what happens when she’s hearing petitions or conducting business—even though the Shield-Bearer is still the one making the decisions.”

“Thank the Lady she still has a Regent for a few more years,” the Eldest muttered.

Zora wasn’t sure whether she was supposed to respond to that, so she kept her mouth shut. Silence was rapidly becoming her default response to anything she wasn’t absolutely sure about. And they wonder why Lina acts as if she thinks nobody cares about her!

“Go get the clothing you’ll need,” the Third Priestess said. “I’ll take you upstairs and show you where everything is.”

Oops! I’m glad she reminded me that I’m not supposed to know my way around the palace or to have been in the Queen’s rooms. “Thank you, Elder Sister.”