Chapter Twelve

Elandra awakened in a strange place. Not certain whether she was dreaming or having a vision, she sat up and found herself in a tiny cave. A circle of black ashes showed her where a fire had once been lit, but had long lain cold. Sunlight shone in from the cave’s narrow mouth, providing faint illumination.

Following it outside, she stood in the bottom of a narrow gully next to a frozen stream. Drifts of snow spilled down the banks, looking white and soft. The air smelled of clean, pungent scents unknown to her. She thought of Gialta with its steamy jungles and heavy fragrances of rot, damp, and exotic flowers. Trau was so different, so cold and austere.

She walked out farther from the cave, her feet unsteady and slow. The clearing beyond the gully lay empty. She heard no sound other than the soft swaying of the trees. Loneliness filled her, and she wondered where Caelan had gone.

Uneasy, Elandra gazed about a moment, then picked up her long skirts to jump the stream. As she leaped, the world seemed to fold itself in half, taking her with it.

Crying out, she fell sprawling and expected to land in the water. Instead, the stream had vanished entirely.

With it were gone the gully, the cave, the trees, and the snow. In their stead stretched a desolate plain of barren soil and rocky outcroppings. A rough wind blew steadily, whistling in her ears and whipping her long hair into her face. Elandra climbed again to her feet and looked around in wonder and rising fear.

In every direction she saw only bleak emptiness. No plants, no insects, no life. She was swept by a feeling of terrible loneliness, as though she were the last person in the world who remained alive.

“Welcome to the future,” said a voice from behind her.

Startled, Elandra whirled around and found herself face to face with Hecati, the malevolent woman who had raised her in her father’s household and made her early life such a misery.

At first Elandra could only stare, stunned by the sight of an enemy she’d never expected to see again. Hecati’s face had grown more sour and wrinkled than ever. She wore a black wimple that blew in the wind. Her eyes burned into Elandra’s with contempt and hatred.

Elandra felt as though all her courage had been knocked from her in one sharp blow. She felt twelve years old again, skinny and unprotected, about to be punished by Hecati and her willow switches.

Dry-mouthed, she blinked hard, but Hecati did not vanish. “Hecati,” she said at last, managing to stammer out the woman’s name.

“Elandra,” Hecati replied, her voice thick with sugary sweetness. “My, how changed you are from when I saw you last. You overcame my parting gift. How clever of you.”

Elandra felt cold inside. Hecati had blinded her on the steps to the Penestrican stronghold before the sisters could intervene. Elandra had spent weeks without her sight, a harrowing experience she would never forget.

Anger mingled with her fear, warming her, strengthening her. She lifted her chin, refusing to let Hecati think she could still be intimidated.

“Yes, I can see again,” she replied coolly, giving thanks now for the long lessons in deportment and palace protocol. She was no longer the ragged, illegitimate daughter of a busy provincial household, tyrannized and abused. She was an empress, and she would act like one.

Her gaze met Hecati’s, betraying none of her inner fear. “The Penestricans restored my sight.”

“Yes, and now you are their puppet.”

Elandra’s delicate nostrils flared. “You will address me as your Majesty.”

Hecati’s eyes narrowed, and a light flush appeared on her face. “Fool!” she said. “You dare rebuke one of Mael’s chosen? I can char you to ashes where you stand!”

Elandra’s topaz was glowing warm and hidden within the curl of her fist. She tried to draw strength and reassurance from it, although her heart continued to pound.

“If that were true, you would have done it already,” Elandra said with defiance. “Why have you brought me to this place? What do you want?”

“This is the future! Look at it,” Hecati commanded maliciously, spreading her hands wide.

Elandra kept her gaze on the witch’s face, refusing to look at the blighted landscape. “What do you want?”

“I want to see your fear.” Scooping up a handful of soil, Hecati hurled it at Elandra’s skirts. “You are empress of a dead land.”

“You say it is the future,” Elandra said. “But because it does not yet exist, the future can change an infinite number of times. That means there is hope of an alternative.”

Hecati glared at her, looking displeased. “Someone has taught you philosophy and logic,” she said at last in grudging acknowledgement.

Elandra smiled.

The sudden smell of something burning was the only warning Elandra had before Hecati threw what looked like a black ball at her. As it came through the air, it uncoiled into the long, slender form of a serpent.

There was no time to think. Elandra lifted her hand instinctively, and the light emanating from her topaz shone upon the serpent.

Just before the serpent struck her, it exploded into ashes that blew away in the harsh wind.

Hecati screamed as though hurt, but only fury showed in her withered face. She lifted her hands, curling them into claws. “Damn you!” she cried. “You witless bastard, who gave you a Jewel of Sovereignty?”

Elandra had no intention of telling her the truth. Defiantly she faced the witch. “Am I not the empress sovereign? Do I not share my husband’s reign?”

“You are nothing!” Hecati shouted. “You have an unconsummated marriage. You love a slave of such low lineage he cannot even be found in our auspices. You are a penniless exile from your own palace. And you carry the poison of darkness in your veins, which will soon render you one of the living dead. Oh, yes, Elandra the Illegitimate, hold yourself high with pride. But what does so much pride avail you? You are nothing!”

Tears sprang to Elandra’s eyes, and it was all she could do to hold them in check. Even now, Hecati’s sharp tongue could still leave wounds. She had the unerring ability to find every vulnerability, and stab deeper into it.

But Elandra was not the girl she had once been. No matter what her emotions, she would not bend. “What do you want from me?” she repeated quietly. “Why did you bring me here for this meeting?”

Hecati stepped forward, and it was all Elandra could do not to flinch back.

“I have brought you here to strike a bargain.”

Elandra frowned, suspecting a trick. “What kind of bargain? I have nothing you could want.”

“Are you interested in survival?” Hecati asked. “Are you interested in being cured of the poison in you?”

Elandra drew in a startled breath and turned her back on the witch. Inside, she was a seething mass of horror and temptation. How did Hecati know so much? Terrified, Elandra clapped her hand over her mouth, afraid of what she might say.

“What do you know of the living dead?” Hecati asked in a quiet, almost conversational voice. “Most people cannot detect them, except by their yellow eyes. They act much the same as when they were alive, but their souls belong to Beloth—”

“No!”

“Yes, Beloth,” Hecati said, her sugary voice in horrible contrast to the nightmare of her words. “And they must obey the commands of the dark god. Even if it is to tear out the beating heart of their own child, they have to obey. Their blood turns black, and eventually they are eaten from within by the demons they carry. It is a terrible fate. What a pity. You are doomed, unless I help you.”

Elandra closed her eyes, trying to shut out Hecati’s voice. But her words echoed and reechoed in Elandra’s mind. No matter how much she distrusted the woman, Elandra knew this time Hecati was telling the truth.

“What do you want?” she asked a third time.

Hecati chuckled triumphantly. “Your allegiance to Mael.”

Elandra blinked and turned around, staring. This was insane. “You would save me from becoming Beloth’s minion, but in exchange I must belong to—to Mael instead?”

She could barely say their dire names. To speak them at all was to utter blasphemy. She half expected to be incinerated on the spot.

Hecati looked impatient. “Yes.”

“But there is no difference!”

“There is a great deal of difference.” Hecati stepped forward, but this time Elandra backed away.

“Listen to me,” Hecati said. “You would not be mindless, soulless. You would be an ally, not a puppet.”

Elandra released her breath, trying to keep her wits about her. “I don’t—”

“Hear me. You are empress sovereign. Your position is second only to Kostimon’s, but in reality you have no power at all.”

“The warlords gave me their oaths of fealty.”

“That means nothing, girl! Nothing! If you do not realize that, then you are naive as well as a fool.”

Elandra tightened her lips and said nothing.

“The warlords will turn to anyone but you. Do you expect them to take up arms in support of a woman?”

“They vowed they would.”

Hecati snarled an oath. “Why can you not understand—”

“I understand perfectly,” Elandra broke in coolly. “You need not explain politics to me.”

“Mael will give you an army—”

“I thought the goddess of shadows intended only to release me from the effects of the poison.”

“Your rewards can be multiplied. You are more useful to us in a position of power.”

“What kind of allegiance would I be expected to give?”

Elandra asked. Her hands were shaking at her sides, and she thrust them behind her to hide them.

“Building temples to the goddess for a start. Allowing her to be worshiped without hindrance. Showing public example.”

This time Elandra couldn’t conceal her horrified revulsion. “Such actions would help release the goddess from bondage.”

“Of course! You will weaken her chains, just as Kostimon has done much over the centuries to free Beloth.”

“No.”

“Don’t be stupid. You have no choice in the matter. Don’t worry, girl. It is not too difficult to learn the proper rituals. I shall give you guidance, help you reach decisions, and make policy. I was prepared to do this for Bixia. Now I shall assist you.”

“I refuse.”

Hecati looked at her in astonishment. “Nonsense! You cannot.”

“I can, and I will. My answer is no.”

“Fool!” Again Hecati hurled something at her, and again Elandra raised the topaz in time to deflect it. No serpent this time, but a spear with a wickedly barbed point. It landed harmlessly at Elandra’s feet, and Hecati swore words that burned and smoked visibly in the air.

Elandra cringed back, afraid to hear such words. There had to be a way out of this place. Even if she ran and was forever lost in this wasteland, it would be better than facing Hecati.

“Do not run,” Hecati said sharply before she could move. “You coward, stand fast and listen to me. There is little time left to you. Do you understand that you will die without my help?”

“Better to die than be damned,” Elandra retorted.

“Bah! You are already damned, you fool! Your enemies are powerful, but you could have unlimited resources if you would just agree—”

“No!” Elandra shouted in panic, backing away. “No, I will not agree. I will not!”

“Wait!” Hecati called, but Elandra turned and ran for her life, choosing no direction, just running as fast as her legs would carry her across the barren, stony ground.

With Hecati’s furious cries behind her, Elandra scrambled up a low, rocky ridge with the wind tearing at her hair and clothing, glanced back, then stumbled down the other side. Halfway down she lost her balance on the loose shale and went sliding and tumbling.

She landed at the bottom in a cloud of dust—bruised, scraped, and winded. Wearily she lay there a moment, tense and listening, but she could no longer hear Hecati calling her name.

Instead, she heard a peculiar sound—something between a whistle and a roar.

Climbing to her feet, Elandra turned around and saw an enormous, whirling cloud crossing the desert toward her. Dust and debris swirled around it, constantly being drawn up into its core. It moved parallel to the base of the ridge, and it was coming incredibly fast.

For a second Elandra could only stare. She had never seen such a cloud before. As it roared closer, it seemed to fill the very sky. Only then did she realize how immense it was, how powerful.

It could suck her up inside itself and shred her to pieces. Had Hecati released this against her?

Horrified, she picked up her skirts and ran.

Sucking up dust and stones and spewing them high, the cloud veered after her as though in pursuit. Elandra screamed, and ran faster, to no avail.

It was gaining on her. She darted in a different direction, but the cloud followed her. Feeling its tug, Elandra stumbled and fell to her knees.

Desperately she tried to claw her way upright, but the wind toppled her off balance. Her hair streamed up into the air, and her clothes plastered themselves against her body.

Breathing hard, her throat uttering a mindless noise of terror, Elandra saw objects swirling within the cloud—weapons, horses, pieces of armor, helmets, and men themselves. Their clothing was strangely old-fashioned, and many of the objects were peculiar and old, like the ancestral belongings of previous generations that her father had preserved for the family. It was like watching history winding itself around a giant spindle.

Black, angry clouds massed overhead in the sky. Lightning suddenly flashed, and a second later the crashing boom of thunder made her duck with her hands over her ears. She was blown flat to the ground, and rain pelted her, soaking her to the skin in moments.

The force of the winds ripped at her clothing and slewed her around bodily. She felt herself lifting into the air and screamed again, her fingers clawing at the muddy earth.

“Goddess mother, protect me!” she screamed aloud.

The cloud roared past her, pelting her with rain and dislodged stones, throwing mud over her, deafening her, and pummeling her. But it did not suck her up into itself after all. Moments later, it was gone.

Shaken and battered, Elandra lifted herself slowly and stared after it. The swirling cloud left the ground, rising into the sky like a rope, and now its immense force seemed to be unraveling. Elandra saw men, horses, pieces of buildings, stools, chests, and weapons raining from the sky, scattering across the blighted plain.

As these objects hit the ground, they exploded into dust and were melted into nothing by the rain.

More lightning raked the sky, cracking and booming loud enough to make Elandra clap her hands over her ears. The air reeked of fire and magic. Then abruptly the black clouds vanished. The rain ended as swiftly as it had come, and the roaring monster dissipated.

Breathing hard, Elandra tried to collect her wits. Pushing her muddy hair out of her face, she closed her eyes and said a quick prayer of gratitude to the goddess mother. She still held a handful of mud. Now she allowed it to spill from her fingers.

There had to be a way to escape this terrible place. She knew of only one thing to try.

Pulling out her topaz, she cupped the golden stone in her palms and stared into its depths. She tried to put aside her fear, tried to clear her mind of everything except the face of the Magria. Closing her eyes, she reached out in the way the Penestricans had taught her.

“Magria,” she called, “I need your help. You came to me before when I was in great difficulty. Again, I call to you. Please, help me.”

No voice spoke a response to her mind.

Elandra opened her eyes and saw nothing but bleak desolation in every direction. Just as it had been before.

Her spirits sank within her.

But she refused to believe that Hecati was her only hope. There had to be some way to escape.

Wearily Elandra climbed to her feet and told herself she must try something else.

“I am here, Elandra,” a voice said to her.

It was a clear voice, a familiar one.

Startled, Elandra spun around and found a slender young woman with long, very straight golden hair standing less than five strides from her. Robed in black, her pale arms bare, her blue eyes direct and intense, she was a welcome sight indeed.

Relief flooded Elandra. She smiled and barely kept herself from hugging the Penestrican. “Deputy Anas,” she said, “how glad I am to see you!”

The Penestrican did not return her smile. “I am deputy no longer.” Lifting her left hand, she tossed a slim serpent onto the ground between them. It immediately began to slither toward Elandra’s feet. “Don’t move,” she said sharply as Elandra gasped. “There is nothing to fear if you are who you claim to be.”

Elandra immediately froze in place, but memories of other tests—some of them quite painful—made her frown. “You know who I am, Anas. Why do you test me?”

“If you are the empress, you should not be here,” Anas said in a blunt voice. “You have no means of coming to this future.”

“I was brought here.”

The snake had almost reached the frayed toe of her slipper. Elandra forgot the rest of what she’d been about to say and stood tense and wary as she watched the serpent’s tongue flicker rapidly. The snake had the wedge-shaped head of a viper; she believed that Anas could command it to strike with venom if she chose. The Magria, always more gentle than her deputy, would not have brought a poisonous snake for this test of truth. The Magria would have been more compassionate.

Elandra found it difficult to swallow. When Anas did not respond to her last statement, she glanced up and met the cold appraisal in those blue eyes.

“I was brought here,” Elandra repeated. “Against my will. I can tell you by whom and for what purpose.”

“Silence,” Anas snapped. “Do not disturb the serpent of truth.”

Before Elandra could protest, the serpent slithered away from her.

“Very well,” Anas said. “The truth has been spoken.”

A surge of heat filled Elandra’s face.

“How dare you doubt me!” she shouted furiously. “I am not to be tested like one of your novices! You do not command me, Anas!”

Anas’s blue eyes blazed back at her. “I am the Magria now,” she snapped. “Take care.”

For a fleeting second Elandra was appalled. “You are the Magria?” she said, heedless of the dismay her voice betrayed. “But she dismissed you from the succession.”

Resentment flickered in Anas’s blue eyes and was gone. “The former Magria relented,” she said.

“Oh.” Elandra frowned, trying to absorb this news. “I had not heard that her Excellency had stepped down. When did she—”

“The former Magria is dead,” Anas said, every word tight and hostile.

Genuine dismay flashed through Elandra. “Oh, I am sorry!” she said. She had liked the old woman, formidable though she had been. Elandra had suspected that possibly the Magria had liked her. But she and Anas had never found any common ground.

Even now Anas still stared at her coldly, unappeased by her sympathy.

Frowning, Elandra tried again. “This is disturbing news. I respected her very much.”

Stiffly Anas inclined her head. “She was worthy of much respect. She has returned to the dust whence she was made.”

Elandra made a formal gesture, feeling as though she had lost her last ally. Still, Anas had come in response to her cry for help. She must remember to be grateful for that.

“Please,” Elandra began. “I must ask—”

“Silence,” Anas said sharply. She bent and picked up her serpent from the ground. The creature coiled itself around her wrist, and Anas shot Elandra a look of suspicion. “Something is wrong. You are the empress, but you smell of death and shadow.”

An involuntary sob escaped Elandra before she could control herself. She pressed her hand to her lips, struggling not to hurl herself at Anas’s feet. “The Guardian said I would have to pay a terrible price if he let us leave the realm of shadow. And now—”

“Wait!” Anas commanded, extending her other hand. “Speak slowly. You have been in the realm of shadow? You have confronted the Guardian?”

Elandra nodded. “It was a trick. We were supposed to follow Kostimon through the hidden ways—”

“Ah!” Anas said. “So that is how he escaped from the palace. Kostimon’s blasphemy never stopped.”

“Caelan got us to the Gate of Sorrows, and then the Guardian ... I was bitten,” Elandra said, her fear spilling from her despite her attempts to stay coherent. “I have the darkness. I am going to die.”

A strange expression crossed Anas’s face. She stepped closer to Elandra. “Repeat your words,” she said, sounding almost afraid. “What bit you? Did the Guardian send you here?”

Elandra shook her head. “We were in Trau—”

“This is Trau. As it can become.”

Elandra glanced around in fresh horror. “But—”

“Never mind. Tell me what happened.”

“A shyriea came out of nowhere. Before Caelan could kill it, it bit me. That is why the witch Hecati brought me here. She offered to take the poison from me if I—”

Elandra found her voice breaking. Her fear twisted harder inside her, and she could not finish.

“Look at me,” Anas said.

Elandra’s eyes were burning. She was on the verge of tears, and she fought them, not wanting to break down in front of Anas.

“Kill me,” she pleaded. “I would rather pass to the dust than become the living dead.”

Anas gripped her shoulder. “Look at me,” she commanded again.

Elandra dashed tears from her eyes, and lifted her gaze obediently. She found neither pity nor condemnation in Anas’s eyes, but instead only concern and brisk competence.

“Put aside your fear,” Anas said with unexpected gentleness. “Can you look past our personal differences and trust me?”

Elandra could only stare at her in astonishment at first, then in rising hope. “Can you help me?”

“If you will trust me.”

Elandra thought of Caelan, who had held her tightly in the realm of shadows and asked her the same question. How frightened she had been of him then, and yet a part of her knew he would never willingly hurt her. Now she gazed into Anas’s blue eyes and knew this woman was made of the same fiber as the old Magria.

Something in Elandra relaxed and reached out. “I do trust you,” she whispered, daring to hope. “If you will help me, what must I offer?”

“Silence!” Anas snapped. “Compassion is not for sale.”

Intense relief flooded through Elandra. Tears welled up in her eyes, spilling over. “Thank you!”

“Don’t thank me yet. Nothing has been accomplished. You will gaze into my eyes, Majesty. You will look into the depths of my eyes and nowhere else. You must not blink. You must not move. Is that clear?”

“Yes,” Elandra said breathlessly.

“You will empty your mind in the way you were taught. When it is empty of all thought, I will enter. In your time at our stronghold you resisted this. Now it could mean your life. Can you do it?”

Elandra thought of Caelan, how he had shared with her, how they had become one spirit, one mind. She had resisted him also, but he had shown her there was no loss in such a union, only much to gain.

She drew a deep breath and met Anas’s gaze. “I will do it,” she replied.

Anas nodded, and concentration tightened her face. “Begin.”

At first it was difficult to focus. Elandra’s mind was jumping from one thought to another, refusing to settle, refusing to obey. She held her gaze steadily on Anas’s, thinking of their blue depths as blue topazes, not so very different from her golden one. Anas would help her. All she had to do was try ... and trust.

Gradually her thumping heart slowed down. She remembered to regulate her breathing. She remembered not to blink. She found herself drawn into Anas’s blue eyes. How clear they were, how compelling and intelligent. They were such a different shade of blue from Caelan’s, flecked with gray and green in the depths. Compassion and kindness lay in their depths, swirling with the colors, reaching out for Elandra so that no longer was she alone, no longer was she aware of the howling wind, no longer was she aware of the ugly, seared landscape of what might be.

Elandra dropped into a clear, empty place, and Anas slipped into her mind as gently as the warm splash of a summer raindrop. Almost at once she was gone, as though she had never been there.

Disappointment filled Elandra, shattering her concentration. She drew back physically, blinking hard to hold her composure. “You couldn’t help me,” she said, feeling hope crash from her.

“I—”

“Hush,” Anas said, drawing Elandra into her arms and hugging her tightly. She stroked Elandra’s hair as Elandra wept, unable to be strong now. “Hush. Don’t talk. Let the tears cleanse you.”

But after a few wracking sobs, Elandra’s fear choked off her emotions, and her tears stopped. She clung to Anas a moment, grateful for her kindness, then pushed herself away.

Bleakly she tried to remember she was the daughter of a warrior. Warriors did not cry. They did not dishonor themselves with cowardice. They faced what had to be done, and they did so quickly.

“I have no dagger,” she said, fighting the unsteadiness in her voice. “Have you? A knife thrust is the quickest way to end—”

“Will you kill yourself now that you are cleansed?” Anas asked in amazement.

At first Elandra did not believe she had heard correctly. Then she lifted her gaze to Anas.

The Magria gave her a fleeting smile. “It is done.”

Elandra couldn’t believe it. “But how? You were so quick, I didn’t think it—How?”

“That is why I am a Magria and you are not,” Anas replied, but for once her arrogance did not offend Elandra. She pointed at the ground, where a small black puddle smoked ominously. “It can harm nothing here. But let us not linger in this place, for it can draw things to it that we would rather not meet.”

“Like the cloud?”

Anas frowned. “You saw that?”

“Yes, a terrible, monstrous thing. Hecati sent it after me—”

“Nonsense! She has no such power,” Anas said in astonishment. “Do you have no recognition of the portents?”

Elandra stared back in puzzlement. “Then what kind of—”

“You saw history, wound into a maelstrom,” Anas said impatiently. “The cloud was the lifetime of Kostimon. If it passed by you, it should have taken you up into its center.”

“It came right at me,” Elandra said. “Then at the last moment it veered away.”

Anas’s blue eyes widened. “Your destiny has protected you.”

Before Elandra could respond, the Magria turned and strode away. Elandra hurried after her, feeling hollow and strange inside. A terrible suspicion was spreading through her, one she hardly dared let herself believe. Yet what else could it mean?

“Kostimon,” she whispered. “Are you saying he is dead?”

“Yes, he is dead.” Anas sounded almost pleased. “You saw his soul and all his knotted threads of life—the history of his existence—swept away into the darkness. I wish I had been able to witness it.”

Elandra frowned. She had known it must happen soon, but even so she hardly dared believe it. What she had felt for him had not been love, but she had respected him. She had been in awe of him. She had almost felt—almost—affection for him. In some ways, their minds had been much alike.

“Dead and gone,” Anas said with satisfaction. “As is Sien the Vindicant—”

“Sien!” Elandra echoed, and she almost added, Good riddance. But instead she thought of the old Magria, likewise gone. So much had been swept away so suddenly. It made her shiver.

“What is to befall—”

“Please be quiet,” Anas broke in, quickening her pace. “I require quiet, Majesty, so that I can take us from here safely.”

Elandra stifled the rest of her questions. She did not understand why Anas had to be so prickly. Walking as fast as she could, she kept pace with the Magria and wondered how far they would have to go.

In the next moment, without any warning at all, she was back in the snowy gully.

Startled, she stumbled and nearly stepped in the stream. The intense cold struck right through her gown and seemed to freeze her face. Huge flakes of snow were falling from a gray, gloomy sky. The air smelled fragrant and fresh, and she drew in several deep lungfuls of it.

“You did it!” she cried. “Anas, you are wonderful!”

Again Anas gave her that fleeting smile before looking stern again. “Is it too much to address me with respect, Majesty? I believe you have been thinking we should treat each other as equals.”

Elandra’s joy was jerked up tight. Hurt and annoyed, she grabbed for imperial composure as a defense. “You must forgive me, Excellency, if I do not take your abilities for granted in the way that you do. I am not yet accustomed to treating them casually. I am sure my admiration will eventually fade.”

Anas frowned, drawing in a sharp breath, but Elandra gave her no time to speak.

“As for equality, I think that is fair. It would be pleasant if we could feel comfortable enough with each other to be informal in private, but if that is not possible, I am amenable to maintaining the formal protocols.”

Anas opened her mouth, but Elandra gathered up her long skirts to keep them from getting wet in the snow and walked toward the cave.

“Do allow me to offer you shelter. The cave looks humble, but I believe it is considered a place of sanctuary. It is better than standing out here in the wind and snow.”

With head held high, she swept on ahead of Anas like a grand lady. Anas followed her without a word, although Elandra half expected the Magria to vanish into thin air.

Once inside the gloomy cave, however, Elandra found nothing welcoming about it. The ice-covered walls gave off a damp chill. There was no fire to warm it, no food or drink to bring back strength, hardly any light to see by.

Picking up her cloak, Elandra wrapped it around herself and sank wearily to the floor.

Anas glanced around warily as though she expected something to spring at her from the interior of the cave. “How interesting,” she said at last, tilting her head as she studied the ceiling and ran her fingertips along the ice-coated walls. “One of the famous ice caves of Trau. It is a province known for its many natural wonders. Sanctuary, did you call it?”

“Yes.”

“I feel a natural resonance in the earth.” Anas extended her hand as though to press her palm against the wall, then withdrew it. “Very old power is here, an ancient presence like ...” Her voice trailed off thoughtfully. “Did the man bring you here?”

Elandra looked up.

“The man in your dreams. Caelan E’non.”

Heat flamed in Elandra’s face. She looked away hastily, embarrassed by the question. The passion she had felt in those dreams was very private. In her heart she cursed the Penestrican dream walkers who robbed her of her secrets.

“You are free of your marriage vows,” Anas said. “Have you realized that yet?”

Elandra’s eyes widened. She was a widow, no longer married, no longer bound to a man she did not love. Her heart suddenly leaped in her chest, and she looked at the mouth of the cave in longing for Caelan’s return.

“Does he know you love him?”

Elandra shook her head.

Anas walked over to her and crouched down beside her. Her hand covered Elandra’s in a brief clasp. “Your feelings are not wrong or forbidden. You think your mother broke her marriage vows for a wanton affair, but this is not true. Iaris was destined to have an affair with Albain. Fate—not her free will—decreed their union. She fought us. She fought him. She fought herself.”

Elandra stared at the Magria, her eyes wide. “What are you saying?” she whispered.

“I am saying that it is a time for truth. The veils and mysteries must be swept aside if we are to become united against our common enemy. Your mother is well married. She did not desire the affair which produced you. She was given no choice by the sisterhood.”

“You mean—”

“Yes, Elandra. Long before your birth, we cast the future and knew the final empress must be special, must have the strong blood of Fauvina as a forbearer. We sifted through all the lineages and found the necessary combination between your father and mother. The spell was made. The affair happened. You were born.”

Elandra felt stunned. “Small wonder she never loved me.”

“Oh, child,” Anas said with sudden emotion, gripping her hand again. “She did not give you up by choice. We commanded that as well.”

Elandra stared at her a moment, soaking in the revelation, then jerked her hand away from Anas. “Why?”

“To test you—”

“Tests!” Elandra said furiously, jumping to her feet. “Always tests. What good are they? Do they make anyone’s life better? Do they help anyone?”

“You were strengthened and tempered by adversity to prepare you for your destiny.”

“My destiny was to marry a great man. I have done that,” Elandra shouted at her. “Now what is left but civil war I have little hope of winning? Or should I simply go home to my father’s household and live the rest of my days in a widow’s veil?”

“Stop reacting emotionally and use your wits,” Anas retorted. “There is more destiny ahead of you, girl. More than you can imagine, if you have the courage to face it.”

“What?” Elandra demanded. “You said there would be no more mysteries. Tell me all.”

“It is sometimes better to face life blindly than with knowledge.”

Elandra gestured impatiently. “Tell me!”

“According to the visions, you have two possible destinies. Soon you will come to the fork that determines the course of the world.”

“I don’t understand.”

“One destiny is this: You will wade in blood. You will wear armor like a man. You will stand atop Sidraigh-hal and watch the destruction of the world.”

Aghast, Elandra stared at her in horror. “And the other?” she whispered.

“The second destiny is this: You are chiara kula na, the woman of fire. You will reap the tears of the world.”

Elandra waited to hear more, but Anas stood silent.

After a moment Elandra frowned. The first destiny was too horrible to contemplate, and the second destiny made no sense.

“What does it mean?” Elandra finally asked.

Anas spread her hands. “That is up to you, and the actions you take.”

Elandra stared at her. “You aren’t telling me everything. There is more to what you know.”

Anas hesitated.

“Tell me! What do I face besides war and destruction? What of Caelan’s destiny?”

“My visions do not concern men,” Anas said sharply.

“But does your vision show us together? Or do you intend to keep us apart?”

She looked at Elandra very hard and said, “The only one who has kept you and Caelan E’non apart has been you. In the past you have been told that fear keeps you from spreading your wings like an eagle.”

Elandra flushed. She did not like to be called a coward. “Perhaps too many tests create their own bonds,” she muttered.

“Perhaps,” Anas agreed. “But they are feeble bonds, easily broken. Better you should confront yourself now and work out your own desires before you face what is to come.”

“And that is?”

“The portents are very dark,” Anas said. “I will have another vision soon, but all those that have come thus far are frightening. Something terrible is taking shape in our world.”

“Does Beloth rise?”

Anas shot her a sharp look as though surprised to hear Elandra speak the god’s name aloud. “Perhaps. But I think it is something we do not yet recognize. Do not look at me thus. I am not withholding information. The visions offer many possible futures, many possible outcomes. Not one only. It is confusing. It is my prayer that the right future will happen.”

“But what shall I do?” Elandra asked. “What course should I take? If I am to ensure the correct future will—”

“The witch Hecati accused you of being our puppet,” Anas said with unexpected patience, “but you are not. You cannot follow, Majesty. You must lead. You must find your own way. I have told you all I can.”

Elandra dropped her gaze. She felt far from reassured. “I cannot lead Caelan,” she said. “He will not—have you no knowledge of him at all?”

“Only that he has long been in your dreams. Nowhere else in our visions does he appear. Nor has he appeared in the auspices cast by the Vindicants. What this means, I do not know. Perhaps you will walk beside him, as he will walk beside you. Enough,” Anas said with a curt gesture. “This cave is cold and dark. Its magic is not mine. I must go.”

With that abrupt farewell, Anas headed for the exit.

Elandra hurried after her. “Wait! Please, there is one more thing I must ask.”

Anas climbed outside and stood impatiently in the snow. Her bare arms were blue with cold, but she did not shiver. “Yes?”

Elandra met Anas’s impatient eyes and felt her nerve waver. But she did not back away. “Is there a way to alter time, to make it possible for Caelan and me to return to Imperia more quickly than a normal journey? If we must return on foot or even on horseback, it will take many days.”

“Nine weeks,” Anas said.

“In that length of time, Tirhin will have secured the throne for himself. I will have no chance—”

“You will find the way you need,” Anas replied curtly. “I must go.”

Frustrated, Elandra again hurried after her. “But, please, I—”

Anas held up her hand to silence Elandra and shot her a stern look. “I have done all I can. There are many preparations which I must oversee if the sisterhood is to survive. I can do nothing else for you at this time.”

She quickened her pace and strode away into the swirling snow, until the mist engulfed her and she was gone.