Father no longer? It is said you have an older name. One that has been lost to time.”
The knight made a dismissive motion. “You mortals have called me Rathnakar, the Raven King. But I have no true name but Master. A name I shall again teach the world, for this earthly realm has forgotten me.” He examined the bones resting in the loculi along the walls.
“It is true,” Varian agreed ruefully, “that the seclusionaries and isolatioms have fallen into disrepair. And the crown head of Lythnia no longer offers gifts for their upkeep. The number of adherents taking vows grows smaller by the year, and the common people grow irreverent. Many have ceased to entreat the First Couple or provide tokens on feast days. They doubt the existence of what their eyes cannot see.”
“Then we shall restore their faith.” The Raven King picked up an urn of ashes from a wall niche.
“As you say, Master,” Varian agreed. “But by what method?”
The dark king squeezed the urn in his great fist, until it shattered. “By blood.”
CHAPTER ONE
Eydis
Streams of sunshine pierced the dappled shadows of the grove, its light glinting like gold off the surface of the Pool of Tears. Eydis slipped off her sandals and accepted a silver urn offered by a silent, white-robed attendant. As she tipped the urn and trickled the water over her feet, rinsing away the dust of travel, she could feel the purity of the cool sparkling stream. Truly she had done as the First Mother wished. A burden seemed to ease from her shoulders as not only the grime of weeks on the road but her cares and fears were cleansed away.
Clean now and standing in a puddle of the sparkling water, she undressed as the attendant indicated, dropping her clothing carefully over a screen standing nearby for the purpose.
On the edge of the pool she hesitated, toes curling over the stone lip, as her heart fluttered with renewed unease. She was aware of the watchful eyes of the green-skinned guardians lurking at the corner of the water, their hairless skins catching the light like fish scales, their serpentine bodies poised. For what? It was said they would drown any who desecrated the pool, their many hands dragging the sinner down to the depths. But who could say what might constitute desecration in their eyes?
Eydis shook the thought aside, hardening her resolve and stepping into the shallows. Her heart was pure, her motives worthy. The watery guardians must surely sense that.
Her lips moved with a soft entreaty. “Look upon me, First Mother, and if I be worthy, grant me your sight.”
One step. The emerald water, curiously warm, lapped at her ankles then her thighs as she descended the stairs deeper into the pool. It was at her waist now.
Another step. The bottom of the pool dropped sharply away. Instead of struggling to stay afloat, Eydis allowed herself to sink until the surface closed over her head. Through the crystalline water, shafts of sunlight pierced to the depths. Tiny air bubbles danced past, tickling her skin. Eydis’s hair swirled like red-gold moss before her eyes. Holding her breath she floated, weightless, in this silent watery world. She was utterly at peace, listening for the voice of the First Mother.
Only no voice came. Instead there was a sudden flash of light and a rushing sensation of speed. The pool and everything else receded, and her mind’s eye traveled to another place.
She found herself standing in a familiar room, her partially translucent feet dripping very real water onto the cold stone floor. The surrounding furnishings were simple. A sturdy, unadorned desk and chair and an engraving of the First Mother hanging on the otherwise empty wall. The room’s only light slanted from a small window high above. It did little to penetrate the gloomy atmosphere, but at least it revealed the face and form of the woman seated behind the desk.
The Head Hearer of the Shroudstone seclusionary glanced up but betrayed no surprise at the soggy
The knight made a dismissive motion. “You mortals have called me Rathnakar, the Raven King. But I have no true name but Master. A name I shall again teach the world, for this earthly realm has forgotten me.” He examined the bones resting in the loculi along the walls.
“It is true,” Varian agreed ruefully, “that the seclusionaries and isolatioms have fallen into disrepair. And the crown head of Lythnia no longer offers gifts for their upkeep. The number of adherents taking vows grows smaller by the year, and the common people grow irreverent. Many have ceased to entreat the First Couple or provide tokens on feast days. They doubt the existence of what their eyes cannot see.”
“Then we shall restore their faith.” The Raven King picked up an urn of ashes from a wall niche.
“As you say, Master,” Varian agreed. “But by what method?”
The dark king squeezed the urn in his great fist, until it shattered. “By blood.”
CHAPTER ONE
Eydis
Streams of sunshine pierced the dappled shadows of the grove, its light glinting like gold off the surface of the Pool of Tears. Eydis slipped off her sandals and accepted a silver urn offered by a silent, white-robed attendant. As she tipped the urn and trickled the water over her feet, rinsing away the dust of travel, she could feel the purity of the cool sparkling stream. Truly she had done as the First Mother wished. A burden seemed to ease from her shoulders as not only the grime of weeks on the road but her cares and fears were cleansed away.
Clean now and standing in a puddle of the sparkling water, she undressed as the attendant indicated, dropping her clothing carefully over a screen standing nearby for the purpose.
On the edge of the pool she hesitated, toes curling over the stone lip, as her heart fluttered with renewed unease. She was aware of the watchful eyes of the green-skinned guardians lurking at the corner of the water, their hairless skins catching the light like fish scales, their serpentine bodies poised. For what? It was said they would drown any who desecrated the pool, their many hands dragging the sinner down to the depths. But who could say what might constitute desecration in their eyes?
Eydis shook the thought aside, hardening her resolve and stepping into the shallows. Her heart was pure, her motives worthy. The watery guardians must surely sense that.
Her lips moved with a soft entreaty. “Look upon me, First Mother, and if I be worthy, grant me your sight.”
One step. The emerald water, curiously warm, lapped at her ankles then her thighs as she descended the stairs deeper into the pool. It was at her waist now.
Another step. The bottom of the pool dropped sharply away. Instead of struggling to stay afloat, Eydis allowed herself to sink until the surface closed over her head. Through the crystalline water, shafts of sunlight pierced to the depths. Tiny air bubbles danced past, tickling her skin. Eydis’s hair swirled like red-gold moss before her eyes. Holding her breath she floated, weightless, in this silent watery world. She was utterly at peace, listening for the voice of the First Mother.
Only no voice came. Instead there was a sudden flash of light and a rushing sensation of speed. The pool and everything else receded, and her mind’s eye traveled to another place.
She found herself standing in a familiar room, her partially translucent feet dripping very real water onto the cold stone floor. The surrounding furnishings were simple. A sturdy, unadorned desk and chair and an engraving of the First Mother hanging on the otherwise empty wall. The room’s only light slanted from a small window high above. It did little to penetrate the gloomy atmosphere, but at least it revealed the face and form of the woman seated behind the desk.
The Head Hearer of the Shroudstone seclusionary glanced up but betrayed no surprise at the soggy
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