Trudi Canavan - Priestess of the White

“But you believe your hosts would be frightened if they knew who I was,” she guessed.

“Probably.”

She frowned. “I don’t want them to fear me. I don’t like it. I wish . . .” She sighed. “But who am I to want to change the way people are?”

He regarded her closely. “You are in a better position than most.”

She stared at him, then smiled self-consciously. “I guess I am. The question is: Will the gods allow it?”

“You’re not thinking of asking, are you?”

Her eyebrows rose. “Maybe.”

Seeing the bright glint in her eye, Leiard felt an unexpected affection for her. It seemed some of the curious, relentlessly questioning child remained in her. He wondered if she let her peers encounter it, and how well they coped.

I can even imagine her drilling the gods about the nature of the universe, he thought, laughing silently to himself. Then he sobered. Asking questions is easy. Making change is harder .

“When do you plan to leave?” she asked.

“Tomorrow.”

“I see.” She looked away. “I had hoped you might be staying longer. Perhaps a few days. I’d like to talk to you again.”

He considered her request. Just a few days . Footsteps from the staircase hailed the return of Tanara. She appeared carrying a tray bearing pottery goblets and a dish of dried fruit. She lowered the tray and offered it to Auraya. As Auraya reached out to take a goblet Tanara gasped and the tray dropped.

Leiard noticed Auraya’s fingers flex slightly. The tray stopped, the contents of the goblets sloshing, and remained suspended in the air. He looked up at Tanara. The woman was staring at Auraya. He realized that the cloth covering Auraya’s shoulders had slipped and the edge of her circ was showing.

He stood up and placed his hands on Tanara’s shoulders. “You have nothing to fear,” he said soothingly. “Yes, she is a priestess. But she is also an old friend of mine. From the village near my—”

Tanara gripped his hand, her eyes wide. “Not a priestess,” she gasped. “More than a priestess. She’s . . . she’s . . .” She stared at Leiard. “You’re a friend of Auraya of the White? ”

“I . . .” Auraya of the what? He looked down at Auraya, who wore a grimace of embarrassment. He looked at the circ. It bore no gold edging of a high priestess. It bore no edging at all.

“When did this happen?” he found himself asking.

She smiled apologetically. “Nine, ten days ago.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I was waiting for the right moment.”

Tanara let go of Leiard’s hand. “I’m sorry. I did not mean to spoil the surprise.”

Auraya laughed ruefully. “It doesn’t matter.” She took the tray and put it on the bench beside her. “I should be apologizing for causing you so much distress. I should have arranged to meet Leiard elsewhere.”

Tanara shook her head. “No! You’re welcome here. Any time you wish to visit please don’t hesitate to—”

Auraya’s eyes narrowed a fraction, then she smiled broadly and stood up. “Thank you, Tanara Baker. That means more to me than you can know. But for now I feel I must apologize for disrupting your evening.” She drew the cloth close around herself. “And I should return to the Temple.”

“Oh . . .” Tanara looked at Leiard apologetically. “I’ll take you to the door.”

“Thank you.”

As the two women left, Leiard slowly sat down. Auraya is one of the White.

Bitterness overwhelmed him. He had seen the potential in her. She was intelligent but not arrogant. She was curious about other peoples, but not contemptuous of them. Her ability to learn and use Gifts was greater than any student he had taught.

Of course they had chosen her. He’d even told himself that it was better that she had joined the Circlians, because with the restrictions of a Dreamweaver life much of her potential would be wasted.

And how much better is it now that she is one of the immortal White? he asked himself bitterly. The world can benefit from her talents forevermore.

And her loss will torment you for all eternity .

The thought startled him. It sounded like his own mental voice, yet it felt like the mental voice of another person.

“Leiard?”

He looked up. Tanara had returned.

“Are you well?”

“A little surprised,” he said dryly.

Tanara moved to the opposite seat. The one Auraya had been sitting in. “You didn’t know?”

He shook his head. “It seems my little Auraya has come much further in the world than I thought.”

“Your little Auraya?”

“Yes. I knew her as a child. Taught her, too. She probably knows more about Dreamweaver healing than any priest or priestess.”

Tanara’s eyebrows rose. She looked away, her expression thoughtful. Then she shook her head. “I can barely comprehend this,” she said in a hushed voice. “You’re a friend of Auraya of the White.”

From behind them came a choking sound. Leiard turned to find Jayim standing on the staircase, his eyes wide in surprise at what he’d overheard.

“Jayim,” Tanara said, leaping up and pushing her son back inside. “You can’t tell anybody about this. Listen—”

Leiard rose and followed them down the stairs, going into his room. His dirty clothes still hung over the back of a chair. His bag was half empty, its contents spread over the bed. Sitting down, he swiftly stowed everything away again. As he placed the dirty robe in the top of his bag, he heard footsteps and turned to see Tanara stop in the doorway. She glanced at the bag and her expression hardened.

“I thought so,” she muttered. “Sit down, Leiard. I want to talk with you before you run off to your forest home.”

He lowered himself onto the bed reluctantly. She sat down next to him.

“Let me just check what I have heard. You said you taught Auraya when she was a child. You mean Dreamweaver lore?”

He nodded. “I had hoped she might join me.” He shook his head. “Well, you can see how that turned out.”

Tanara patted him on the shoulder. “It must have been frustrating. Strange that the gods would choose her, then. Surely they must know she was taught by a Dreamweaver.”

“Perhaps they knew where her heart truly lay,” he muttered bitterly.

Tanara ignored that. “It must have been odd talking to her again, even when you thought she was merely a high priestess. You sounded like you were getting along well enough when I arrived. Obviously you didn’t notice any change. You would have if this Choosing had turned her into someone different.”

“I know I said we were friends,” he replied. “But I said that to reassure you. Until today I hadn’t seen her in ten years.”

Tanara absorbed that silently.

“Consider this, Leiard,” she murmured after a while. “Auraya obviously wants to continue to be your friend. One of the White wanting to be friends with a Dreamweaver ought to be impossible, but it clearly isn’t. And if Auraya of the White is friends with a Dreamweaver, maybe other Circlians will treat Dreamweavers better.” Her voice lowered. “Now, you’ve got two choices. You can leave and return to your forest, or you can stay here with us and keep this friendship going.”

“It’s not that simple,” he argued. “There are risks. What if the other White disapprove?”

“I doubt they’d do anything more than tell you to leave.” She leaned closer. “I think that’s worth the risk.”

“And if the people decide they don’t like it? They might take matters into their own hands.”

“If she values your friendship she’ll stop them.”

“She might not be able to—especially if the White will not support her.”