In the Hand of the Goddess Read Free

That’s not going to happen to me.” She drew a deep breath. “What’s my third fear? I may as well hear it now and get it over with.”
    â€œRoger, Duke of Conté.” The Goddess’s voice was low, soft, and deadly.
    Alanna froze. Finally she said carefully (and very quietly), “I have no reason to fear Duke Roger. None at all.” Then she put her head in her hands. “I don’t have any reason to fear him—but I do.” If she had doubted her visitor’s identity, the fact that she was being so frank—almost against her will—convinced her. “I hate him!” she yelled suddenly, lifting her face from her hands. It felt good to say it, after all this time. “You know what I think? The Sweating Sickness. It drained every healer who tried to cure it. It struck only in the capital, nowhere else, and Jon was the last one to get it. They knew it had to be sorcerer’s work. They sent for Duke Roger to help, but none of them—the king, Myles, Duke Gareth, Duke Baird—none of them thought Duke Roger might have created it! Thom says Roger is powerful enough to’ve sent it from as far as Carthak, where he was, and Thom ought to know.” Alanna stood and strode around inside the shelter of the willow, her handslinked tightly in her belt. “When Roger tested me for magic, my head felt all funny, as if someone had been digging through my brain with a stick. Thom wrote me he was being watched up in the City of the Gods. And last summer—”
    â€œLast summer?” the Goddess prompted.
    â€œI don’t think Jonathan would have gone near the Black City if Roger hadn’t gathered us all to warn us about how dangerous it was. Jonathan’s very responsible about being the Heir; he wouldn’t risk his life foolishly. But Roger was wearing a great blue jewel around his neck. He twisted it while he talked to us, and the light bouncing off it made me sleepy, till I stopped looking at it. It seemed to me that Roger was talking only to Jonathan, daring Jon to go to a place where Roger knew he could get killed!”
    She sighed and settled back against the tree, feeling better than she had in a long time. “I can’t say anything to Jon. I tried to, once, but he got angry with me. He loves Roger. So does the king. Roger’s handsome, young, clever, a great sorcerer. Everyone thinks he’s wonderful. No one stops to think that if something happened to Jonathan, Roger would be the heir. No one but me, that is.”
    â€œWhat will you do about this third fear?” theGoddess wanted to know. She shooed the kitten off her lap.
    â€œWatch,” Alanna said wearily. “Wait. Mostly watch him as carefully as I can. George—the thief—he’ll help. Thom’s helping, as much as he can.” She had rarely felt this tired in her life. “And if Roger is what I suspect, I won’t stop until I’ve destroyed him.”
    The Goddess nodded. “Then you are dealing with this fear, my daughter. Time will end your fear of the Chamber of the Ordeal, and your fear of love. Well, who knows what may happen to change your mind?”
    â€œNothing will change my mind,” Alanna said firmly.
    â€œPerhaps.” The Goddess reached into the bed of the fire and drew out a single red-hot coal. “My time with you comes to an end. Take this from my hand.”
    Alanna swallowed hard. This was asking a bit much, even for a goddess. She looked up and met the Mother’s eyes with her own. Slowly, trembling, she reached out and took the coal.
    It was cold! Startled, she nearly dropped it. Looking at it, she saw that the ember seemed to burn within a crystal shell. There was even a tiny loop in the crystal, just big enough to permit a chain to passthrough. The ember flickered in its shell, its hot red glare fading to a soft glow.
    The Goddess rose. “The Chamber is only a room, though a magical one, and