As promised, I found the White Monk, Kaedrin, and the Tala shaman gathered in the small grassy courtyard. They should have seemed like an odd grouping—the pale, ancient man in his white robes; the warrior woman, dressed in silver armor so bright it hurt the eyes; and the fur-clad shaman, dark hair falling in knotted ropes around his shoulders, braided with bits of colorful rags and beads. The three stood in a circle around the unseasonably green grass, eyes closed in prayer or silent communion.
Kaedrin opened her eyes at my approach, senses as acute as Ursula’s. “This is good,” she intoned, sounding not at all like herself. Her eyes burned bright as her armor and I felt as if Danu herself studied me. The shaman turned also, deep blue eyes so dark as to be midnight, Moranu’s shadows in them. The White Monk smiled at me with Glorianna’s infinite love.
“You can leave the ceremony to us,” Kaedrin said. “We are ready.”
As one, they inscribed the symbols of their goddesses in the air over the living grass, Glorianna’s circle, Moranu’s crescent, Danu’s sword. Then they turned and walked side-by-side toward the great hall.
So much for discussing details.
I lingered a moment longer, taking a calming breath after looking into the gazes of three goddesses. Feeling the reverence of the moment, I offered up a prayer, as I seldom did. Then drew a circle in the air, cut by the crescent, bisected by the sword.
For a moment I imagined I felt Salena’s cool hand on my brow. A murmur of her voice in my ear, that day coming back so vividly, the red-faced baby girl in my arms.
“You’re holding the future High Queen, Dafne. I won’t be there, but you will. I’m trusting her to you.”
“Thank you, Salena,” I whispered to the air. “You are remembered this day.”
I went in and took the side door, to come in behind the great throne that now stood alone at the head of the hall, facing the new window high over the entrance. Taking the crown from its box, I set it on the seat of the throne and stepped back to observe. Everyone who’d been able to had assembled, the hall as full as I’d ever seen it. So much so that the center aisle barely stood free enough for passage.
My vantage point, behind and off to the side, let me scan all the faces. All had broken out their finest clothing and jewels, making the occasion the grandest of any I’d seen, including Ami and Hugh’s wedding. In the forefront stood the highest representatives of most of the Thirteen Kingdoms, some royal, some not. I almost didn’t recognize Ambassador Laurenne in her cloth of gold gown and the elaborate traditional headdress of Aerron. King Teodor flanked her, meeting my gaze with a grave nod. Good for him. On his other side, stood the young future king and queen of Erie and Remus, Cavan and Nix. They looked like bookends, she as fair as he was dark. Did all the denizens of Remus share that coloring? With her pale blue eyes, winter-white skin and ivory hair, she looked to be carved from ice. Except for the pink blush when Cavan smiled at her.
As we’d agreed, Ami and Andi stood on either side of the center aisle, both wearing Salena’s rubies. Rayfe, who I’d never seen dressed so formally, stood beside Andi, both of them dressed in the bloodred of Tala royalty. Ash ranged a few spaces back from Ami, wearing the white robes of his order. Ami hadn’t liked it, but agreed to the protocol, wearing the purple and green of Avonlidgh. Lady Veronica of Lianore, who’d saved us once on the journey to Windroven, accompanied Ami, arm in arm with one of the Vervaldr. Her eyes sparkled with great excitement.
I’d been dubious about the wisdom of it—and the potential debacle—but Astar and Stella played at Ami’s feet. Stella with her wild dark curls wore a tiny version of Andi’s bloodred velvet, the image of both her aunt and of her Grandmother Salena. Astar, her fair mirror, in the colors of Avonlidgh. He gazed about at the spectacle with wide blue eyes the color of the summer sky and I caught my breath, seeing Hugh so strongly in him.
All of our ghosts, present and accounted for.
A hush fell over the room and the great doors opened, spilling noonday light through, to add to the colors scattered by the window of the Goddesses. It splintered off Ursula, scattering diamonds of light like stars, and a sigh ran through the assembly.
She moved slowly down the center aisle, head held nobly high. Harlan followed, her personal guard, forever at her back.
No one had even tried to argue about that.
As she passed, like a wave, the people bowed to her. The guard along the walls bent their heads with respect and reverence. No one could fail to be moved by the sight. Even the faces of her detractors held awe. They’d no doubt be back to squabbling as soon as tomorrow, but at this sacred noon, peace united us all.
Perhaps Salena had seen this key image. I hoped so.
The three celebrants stepped up to form a triangle before the throne, Kaedrin at the center, flanked by the White Monk and the Tala shaman. Ursula stopped before them and inclined her head.
The Tala shaman spoke to Andi and she answered the summons. She held still and calm as he turned over her hand, placed a black feather in her palm. One, I felt certain, that came from Rayfe’s bird form. Then he used a large blade to cut her wrist. I’d held her hand long ago when he’d done the same at her wedding, binding her with blood to Rayfe. She hadn’t flinched either time.
Magic filled the air, heavy and prescient.
The White Monk beckoned Ami to step forward, taking her hand in his, then filling her palm with pink rose petals. Kaedrin handed him a small dagger and poised it over her delicate wrist. She glanced back at Ash, who gave her a slow nod. Echoing it, she said something I couldn’t hear to the White Monk, then winced as he cut her wrist in a shallow swipe, holding it so her bright blood flowed over the petals, reddening them.
Kaedrin asked Ursula for her sword, which she drew fast enough to my eye, then told her to hold up her hands. With exquisite skill, she used the tip to score Ursula’s palms, opening twin wells of blood. Taking the stained rose petals from Ami, Kaedrin filled Ursula’s right palm with them. Then she placed the feather from Andi, now crimson with her blood, into Ursula’s left hand.
Holding the sword hilt wrapped in both hands, pointing straight to the sun, high overhead, Kaedrin spoke.
“Child of Danu, she of the bright blade and the clear eyes, you come before these people to right the wrongs of the past. This is no honor the goddesses bestow upon you, but the gravest onus. The paths of blood, of family, of training, and duty have brought you to this moment, but now the decision rests with you. The mantle of responsibility that awaits you will weigh heavier than any armor. Will you take it upon you, knowing that no power, no ambition, no worldly wealth will ever balance its weight? The eyes of your people rest on you, their blood on your hands. Will you take up your sword to protect them? Will you clasp the sword that Danu gives you, seal it with the mercy of Glorianna and the sorcery of Moranu? Will you bind them, as you bind the kingdoms who will look to you forever more, for protection, for guidance, for the love that is Glorianna’s, for the life-giving magic that is Moranu’s, and for the unflinching justice that is Danu’s?”
Ursula’s eyes, clear steel as the sword before her, met Kaedrin’s. She didn’t hesitate.
“I will.”
Kaedrin lowered the hilt between Ursula’s palms, wrapping her hands around the High Queen’s as she clasped the blood, petals and feather to the shining metal.
“I give you Danu’s blessing, to reign, to protect your realm and dispense justice in her name.”
The White Monk set back his hood and put his hand on Ursula’s right shoulder. He said nothing, but the love and serenity in his smile spoke everything. The shaman did likewise, clasping Ursula’s left shoulder, saying in Tala, “Through my hand to your blood, Moranu speaks, giving life and magic to the lands you watch over, forever more.”
They held the moment the air shimmering with numinous presence.
Kaedrin looked to me. “The crown, librarian.”
I nearly didn’t move, so stunned was I. Their plan had not accounted for getting the crown onto the High Queen? Aware of the weight of the moment, I tried to move gracefully, taking up the crown without smudging it and carrying it to Kaedrin. Though her face remained solemn, the aura of Danu about her still, her gaze held amusement.
“The goddesses bless you,” she said, her voice carrying. “But the law sets the crown upon your head. Accept this symbol of your rule from your chosen councilor, as you will also forever accept her counsel.”
My heart nearly stopped, sweating fingers slipping on the polished metal. This was not the plan. Ursula’s silver-edged gaze found mine, narrow lips curving into a smile at my expense. “I so accept the wisdom of history and the knowledge of law from my chosen councilor.”
Nothing for it but to do it. I stepped forward, totally unsure how I’d reach. Not through the tangle of arms and the sword, certainly. I moved behind Ursula and Harlan dropped to one knee, offering a hand. All right then. I stepped onto the platform of his thigh, unutterably grateful that he steadied me by the hips. With utmost care, I set the crown on Ursula’s head, settling it there as I’d done with her circlet only months before.
It should have been absurd and yet, it all felt exactly right. It was done.
Salena’s voice murmured in my memory.
Perfect.