Trudi Canavan: Priestess of the White

“Danjin Spear,” he said. “I am here to see Dyara of the White.”

The priest nodded. “Welcome, Danjin Spear,” he replied in a deep voice.

Danjin watched for some indication of the mental signal the priest was communicating to others, but the man did not even blink. The chain in the stairwell began to move. Danjin held his breath. He was still a little frightened of this contraption in the center of the White Tower. Looking up, he saw a large metal disc descending toward them.

The disc was the base of a metal enclosure as wide as the stairwell. Everyone referred to this contraption as “the cage,” and the reason was obvious. It looked just like the bent-reed cages used to hold animals in the market—and probably inspired a similar feeling of vulnerability in its occupants. Danjin was grateful that this was not his first ride in the contraption. While he did not think he would ever feel comfortable using it, he wasn’t as terrified as he had once been. He did not need terror added to the anxiety of beginning an important job.

When the metal enclosure had settled at the bottom of the stairwell, the priest opened the door and ushered Danjin inside. As the cage rose Danjin soon lost sight of the man. The stairwell appeared to spiral around him as the cage gained height. Men and women dressed in circs, servant uniforms or the sumptuous clothes of the rich and important populated the treads. The lower levels contained accommodation and meeting rooms for visiting dignitaries. The higher the cage rose, however, the fewer people Danjin saw. Finally he reached the highest levels, where the White lived. The cage slowed, then came to a halt.

Opening the door, Danjin stepped out. Two steps away, in the wall opposite, was a door. He hesitated before moving to it. Though he had spoken to Dyara, the second most powerful White, several times now, he was still a little overwhelmed in her presence. He wiped his sweaty hands against his sides, took a deep breath and lifted a hand to knock.

His knuckles met with nothing as the door swung open. A tall, middle-aged woman smiled at him.

“Right on time, as usual, Danjin Spear. Come in.”

“Dyara of the White,” he said respectfully, making the sign of the circle. “How could I be late when you so kindly sent me a platten?”

Her eyebrows rose. “If all it took to guarantee punctuality was sending a platten then there are more than a few people I’ve summoned in the past who have a lot to explain. Come in and sit down.”

She turned and strode back into the room. Her height, coupled with the garb of a Circlian priestess, would have made her an imposing figure even if she hadn’t been one of the immortal White. As he followed her into the room he saw that another of the White was present. He made the sign of the circle again. “Mairae of the White.”

The woman smiled and Danjin felt his heart lighten. Mairae’s beauty was renowned throughout Northern Ithania. In songs of tribute her hair was described as sunlight on gold and her eyes were compared to sapphires. It was said she could charm a king out of his kingdom with a smile. He doubted any of the current kings could be made cooperative with a mere smile, but there was an appealing sparkle in Mairae’s eyes and warmth in her manner that always put him at ease.

She was not as tall as Dyara and she did not exude stern confidence in the way the older woman did. Of the five White, Dyara had been chosen second. Her Choosing had occurred seventy-five years ago, when she was forty-two years of age, so she had more than a century’s knowledge of the world. Mairae, chosen at twenty-three a quarter of a century ago, had less than half Dyara’s experience.

“Don’t let King Berro take up all your time today,” Dyara said to Mairae.

“I’ll find something to distract him,” Mairae replied. “Do you need help with the preparations for tonight’s celebrations?”

“Not yet. There’s a whole day in which disasters could develop, however.” She paused as if something had just occurred to her, then glanced at Danjin. “Mairae, would you keep Danjin Spear company while I check something?”

Mairae smiled. “Of course.”

As the door to the room closed behind Dyara, Mairae smiled. “Our newest recruit is finding it all a bit overwhelming,” she said in a conspiratorial tone. “I still remember what it was like. Dyara kept me so busy I didn’t have time to think.”

Danjin felt a twinge of apprehension. What would he do if the newest White was incapable of performing her duties?

“Don’t be alarmed, Danjin Spear.” Mairae smiled and he remembered that all of the White could read minds. “She’s fine. She’s just a bit surprised to find herself where she is.”

Danjin nodded, relieved. He considered Mairae. This might be an opportunity to gain a little insight into the newest White.

“What is she like?” he asked.

Mairae pursed her lips as she considered her answer. “Smart. Powerful. Loyal to the gods. Compassionate.”

“I mean, how is she different to the rest of the White?” he amended.

She laughed. “Ah! Dyara didn’t tell me you were a flatterer. I like that in a man. Hmm.” Her eyes narrowed. “She tries to see all sides of an argument, and naturally looks for what people want or need. I think she will be a good peacemaker.”

“Or negotiator? I heard she had something to do with that incident with the Dunwayans ten years ago.”

“Yes. It was her village they took hostage.”

“Ah.” Interesting .

Mairae abruptly straightened and looked at the wall behind him. No, he corrected, she’s not looking at the wall. Her attention is elsewhere . He was beginning to recognize mannerisms that hinted at mental communication passing between the White. Her gaze shifted to him again.

“You’re right, Danjin Spear. I have just received notice that King Berro has asked to see me. I’m afraid I must leave you. Will you be fine here on your own?”

“Yes, of course,” he said.

Mairae rose. “I’m sure we will meet many times again, Danjin Spear. And I am sure you will make a fine adviser.”

“Thank you, Mairae of the White.”

When she had gone, the silence was unusually intense. That’s because there is no noise from the outside, he thought. He looked toward the window. It was large and circular, and gave a view of the sky. A shiver of cold ran down his spine.

Standing up, he forced himself to move closer. Though he had seen it before, the view from the White Tower still unnerved him. The sea appeared. A few steps more and he could see the city below—a toy city of tiny houses and tinier people. Taking another step, he felt his heart begin to race as the Dome came into view, like a massive egg half-buried in the ground.

The ground. Which was a long, long way below.

The world tilted and began to revolve. He backed away until all he could see was the sea and sky. At once his head stopped spinning. A few deep breaths later his pulse started to slow.

Then he heard the sound of the door opening behind him and his heart lurched. He turned to see Dyara entering the room. A priestess accompanied her. As he realized who this must be his apprehension was replaced by curiosity.

The new White was as tall as her companion but her arms were thinner and her face was all angles. Her hair was a shade lighter than Dyara’s earthy brown. Large eyes were tilted upward at the outer edges, giving her a birdlike appearance. Those eyes regarded him with intelligence and her mouth quirked with amusement. She was probably watching him assessing her, reading his every thought.

Habits were hard to break. He had learned over the years to gauge a person’s character at first glance, and could not stop himself now. As she and Dyara walked toward him he noted that the way the new White held her shoulders betrayed her nervousness. Her unwavering gaze and strong mouth suggested a natural confidence would replace it soon, however. He had been told she was twenty-six, and his eyes confirmed it, but there was a maturity in her expression that hinted at a greater knowledge and experience of the world than the average noblewoman would have at that age.