by M. J. Scott
Pushing the odd sensation of doubt away, she went through the door.
She had a few moments to take in the temple itself, the stained-glass circles in the ceiling, the neat fires with the offering baskets of salt grass stacked before them. But as soon as the scent of the grass filled her nose, she suddenly saw Eloisa again, lying bloodied and decaying beneath that vast tree, threads of something black and rotten twined around her, through her. Spreading down into the roots of the tree itself. Nausea spiked, and she doubled over, fighting to banish the vision.
"Sophie!" Cameron's arm came around her.
[Help?]
[No. Thank you.] She didn't think a sanctii appearing in the temple would aid the situation.
"Lady Scardale, are you unwell?" Another voice came from somewhere to her right.
She couldn't lift her head to see who it was, the nausea still burning her throat.
"Fetch water." A third voice entered the conversation. There was a quick beat of retreating footsteps, then returning ones. As the fear and pain retreated, Sophie began to straighten.
"Are you all right?" Cameron demanded, blue eyes anxious as they searched her face.
"Sip this." A metal beaker of water appeared in front of her face. Sophie took the cup and drank gratefully before looking up to meet the amber eyes of Domina...Gerrard, that was it.
"Are you feeling better, Lady Scardale?" Domina Gerrard asked. "Here, sit." She motioned to the nearest bench of those surrounding the offering fire.
Sophie did as instructed, then sipped more water.
"Has your wife been ill, my lord?" Domina Gerrard asked.
"No," Cameron said. "Though she was tired, earlier."
The domina's dark brows drew together, one hand twining around the long black braid that fell over her shoulder. She opened her mouth, then closed it, then opened it again. "There's no chance she is with child?"
"Sophie?" Cameron's voice cracked on the word, though she wasn't sure if it was in alarm or surprise.
Did he want children? Another thing they hadn't talked about. It was expected that royal witches would continue the bloodlines. She thought back, but no, she'd had her courses as usual over the time since they'd been married. Besides which she knew the herbs that the ladies in court recommended to prevent any surprises. Cameron must understand that they were currently in no position to bring a child into the world. "Um, no. I don't think so," she managed.
Disappointment fleeted across Cameron's face before he schooled it back to something more controlled.
The domina nodded. "All right. I can call for a healer, if you wish."
"No," Sophie said. "I am beginning to feel better. Perhaps it was a delayed reaction to the portal, after all."
"You came via the portal?" the domina asked. "Not in a carriage?"
"It seemed a nice day for some exploring," Cameron said smoothly.
"Of course," the domina said, though she frowned.
It was probably foolish to hope that the news of the emperor's offer hadn't filtered back to the Illvyan temple. Or that they had been given instructions on how to deal with Sophie should she appear again. Last time she'd been here, she'd told Domina Gerrard she was Madame Mackenzie but as Domina Gerrard had called Sophie Lady Scardale, she clearly knew their true identities. "Does portal travel always make you unwell, my lady?"
"Yes," Sophie said. "But I thought I had escaped the worst of it this time."
"Such things can be unpredictable. Especially if there are other factors to consider."
Was that a polite way of letting Sophie know that, yes, the domina did know about Elarus?
"So it seems. I'm sorry to have caused a disturbance," Sophie said. She had recovered enough to scan the temple. It was empty. It seemed the people around Isle de Angelique stayed off the streets and away from religion at this time of day.
"We are always glad to aid those in need," the domina said.
Was Sophie imagining it or was there an extra emphasis on “always.” A message? Perhaps. But deciphering it would have to wait. She'd come here for some peace, not more intrigue. Perhaps that had been a foolish hope.
And it seemed a lost one now with the echoes of the vision still sharp in her mind.
"Perhaps we should return to the Academe," Cameron said. "I'm sure we can hire a carriage."
"I'll be all right. I'm feeling much better." The nausea had faded to almost nothing. She wasn't looking forward to stepping back into a portal, but they had agreed to saving their money. Besides, she didn't think it was the portal that had made her so ill. "I'd like to stay. Make an offering."
Cameron pursed his lips, looking as though he was going to object.
"It would be better for you to sit a while longer anyway, perhaps," Domina Gerrard said softly. "A swaying carriage is not always pleasant if one is feeling unwell. If you like, you could come back to our quarters behind the temple. We have tea and food. Nothing grand, but they might help. Then you can make your offering and return to the Academe once you are feeling fully recovered."
"Thank you," Sophie said. "If it's not too much trouble, some tea would be nice." Even though accepting the offer killed any chance of talking privately here with Cameron. She snuck a glance at him. He still didn't look pleased, but she didn't think he would argue with a domina without more cause than this.
"We are here to give aid and guidance to those who seek it," the domina said. "And, as you can see, you are not taking our services away from anyone else. Besides which, there are four of us here today. Our devout, Sera, can tend to the offering fires and anyone who comes in." She looked down at Sophie. "Do you feel able to stand yet?"
"Yes," Sophie said. She rose carefully. The room didn't spin nor did her stomach rebel. She took a relieved breath. Cameron extended his arm, and she curled her hand around it, squeezing gently to reassure him that she was fine. He smiled at her.
Domina Gerrard walked slowly, pointing out offices, a small room for more private devotions, and a staircase that led upstairs to the living spaces used by the devouts and priors on duty. The rest of the temple complex was as simple as the temple itself. White-washed walls, plain dark wooden furniture. Rows of earth-lights hung on the walls. Bowls of flowers graced some of the tables, placed in front of simple statues of the Great Tree or the goddess herself. Offerings of another kind.
The familiar scents of a kitchen, bread and herbs and wood smoke began to replace the smell of salt grass and incense before they reached it.
The kitchen was also simple. A large wood-burning stove, along with racks above a fireplace to allow for additional cooking, several large sinks, rows of shelving, and another door that Sophie assumed led to a pantry or cold storage. A large, well-worn, and well-scrubbed wooden table stood in the center of the room, flanked with eight chairs.
"We have a dining room," Domina Gerrard said, "if you prefer something more formal. But for tea and such between our usual mealtimes, we usually sit here."
"Do you have a cook?" Sophie asked, curious. This was a small temple, but at the city temples in Kingswell, the dominas had servants, aided by the devouts in training—or those who might have earned themselves some disapproval from the domina in charge.
"We have someone who comes in and makes bread each morning and prepares what we need for our meals. Depending on what those might be, she starts them, or we cook ourselves. With only a few of us here at a time, we don't need much help." As if to demonstrate her point, she busied herself at the stove, moving a kettle onto one of the hotplates and stoking up the fire. That done she unearthed tea and dark green earthenware mugs from various cabinets. While she was occupied, Cameron grimaced at Sophie.
"What?" she mouthed.
"We should go back to the Academe," he mouthed back, but before he could press the point further, the domina returned to the table, a tray of sliced bread in one hand and plates in another.
"Something plain may settle your stomach, Lady Scardale."
"Please, call me Sophie."
The bread did smell good, fresh and light somehow. She took a piece and a plate. Then, because both the domina and Cameron were watching her, she took a careful nibble. "It's delicious. Cameron, you should try it."
"I have jam. Or cheese, if you would prefer, my lord," Domina Gerrard said.
Cameron waved her off. "No. Thank you. Tea will be fine. I had lunch rather late today."
Before the domina could respond to this, the kettle started its whistling song and she turned back to the stove.
"Why do you want to go back?" Sophie mouthed at Cameron, but he just shook his head and pointed at the piece of bread. She rolled her eyes but took another bite.
"Tea," Domina Gerrard said, coming back to the table with three mugs that steamed and gave off a faintly sweet, faintly minty smell. "Mint and dried alen berries and a touch of ginger and honey. Soothing to the stomach."
"Do you have a garden here?" Sophie asked. Most temples in Anglion did. Earth witches were good with plants and coaxing things to grow where they usually wouldn't.
"A small vegetable garden. A few herbs in pots. We haven't much space. The mint is ours, but the alen berries and ginger come from the larger gardens at the temple near the palace. The honey is from bees at our branch house."
"What's a branch house?" Sophie hadn't heard the term before.
Domina Gerrard cocked her head. "You don't have them in Anglion? They are larger properties where the devouts go for a time for instruction before joining a temple. Priors and dominas also rest there if they are unwell or can go for special periods of devotion or training. Older members of the community, who may want to step down from active temple life and prefer not to return to their families or home countries, retire to them. Sometimes they have orphanages or such attached. We farm what land we can there with the help of some of the people who live in wherever is the closest town or village. We have one here, a few miles to the east of the city. There are several herb farms in the area and our honey is considered particularly fine."
Sophie blew on the tea and then sipped it. The taste was an odd mix of cool and warm and sweet, and yes, something green beyond the obvious notes. "In Anglion, such things are generally done in the larger temple complexes," she offered. "Though I believe the temple has properties it farms. Some people leave them land as a bequest."
"Yes," Cameron said. "My squad used to stay at temple estates sometimes. Cleaner beds than inns, though not always particularly fancy ones. But I guess the temple here must have more people to train. And to serve."
"We do our best," the domina said. "The empire is large, and there are many beliefs in many countries, but the message of the goddess is one we try to share. And, of course, there are always earth witches who prefer to serve a higher purpose." She sipped her own tea, amber gaze resting steadily on Sophie.
"We must all find our own path," Sophie replied blandly. Going into the temple as a domina was never an option that had appealed to her. Nor had it been a choice she could have made. She'd been raised to be the wife of a nobleman, her bloodlines supposedly too valuable to lose, regardless of whether she manifested.
"And what do you see your path being, Sophie?" Domina Gerrard asked.
"All I ever wanted was to have a family. A simple life," Sophie said. "I hope that will still be what I can achieve."
"An admirable goal," the domina said. "But sometimes the goddess puts your feet on another road. I imagine you didn't envision yourself spending your life in Illvya even a few months ago."
"No. But now that I'm here, I don't see why my life should be greatly changed. Cameron and I are content to live quietly." She squeezed his hand, the one where her ring circled his finger. Body and blood, they'd sworn. So far there'd been too much blood for her taste.
"I see," Domina Gerrard said.
But she seemed to think better of pressing the point. If she had been charged with encouraging Lady Scardale to serve the emperor's schemes, should Sophie happen to pass through this particular temple's doors again, she apparently wasn't going to rush her fences. "Was there something in particular that brought you here, today?"
"We had a rare block of free time in our schedule," Cameron said before Sophie could answer. "We have missed our devotions and thought it would be good to take the time to renew them. Sophie told me of your welcome when last she was here. I wanted to see the temple for myself." He straightened in his chair, a move that subtly reinforced his height and the breadth of his shoulders. Not a threat, rather a signal of protection. A reminder to the domina that if the temple was involved in any attempts to manipulate Sophie, then there was Cameron to get around first.
Had it been Domina Skey, who headed the temple in Anglion, sitting across the table, she would have been uneasy with him playing things this way but the temple here in Illvya had shown no signs of aggression. Indeed, Domina Gerrard had told her more about the history of the temple in Anglion than Sophie had ever learned while she lived there. She took a few more sips of her tea. Her stomach had eased, and she felt normal again. "Perhaps we should make an offering. We must return to the Academe before long."
"Of course," the domina said. She collected the mugs and plates, tidying everything away. Which made sense if they lived without servants. Deal with the mess now, or deal with it later; it would have to be dealt with eventually.
A thought that cut far too close to home.
They returned the way they had come. Sophie paused before one of the statues of the Great Tree, taken by the play of light on the beautifully carved pale wood. The vast tree grew from a disc that represented the world. The disc itself had been carved to show the roots of the tree twining through it in intricate flowing patterns. She reached toward it, then pulled her hand back, unsure if it would be right to touch it.
"Ah. That one invites touch, doesn't it?" the domina said. "Are you drawn to the tree, my lady? The heart of the world?"
"I've always liked the image," Sophie admitted. "The roots of the goddess, holding the earth true for us, her power above and below." The ley lines were said to be the gift of the goddess, running between the roots of the tree, providing her power to those who could reach it. Maybe that was why the vision of Eloisa lying beneath a tree had been so disturbing. There had been no light. No power. No ley line. Only darkness and corruption.
"I have always found it a comfort," the domina agreed. "There is a magnificent depiction of the tree at the temple near the palace. A beautiful window in stained glass. Glasswork has been an industry here in Lumia for a very long time. Our artisans are thought to be the best in the empire. The tree is one of their masterworks. You should go and see it."
Was that a suggestion based on Sophie's professed interest in the symbol of the tree or a less than subtle hint that Sophie should pay her respects to the palace temple? For now it seemed wisest to pretend she had no idea it could be anything other than the former. "I will try," she said. "I have little free time at the moment."
"I'm sure Maistre Matin and the others with calls upon your time cannot quibble at you spending some of it in devotion."
The domina's tone was steelier. A shade too close to the sorts of tones Sophie had been used to hearing from the Anglion dominas. A hint of command, rather than suggestion. "I will see what can be arranged," she said, intending no such thing. If the temple here was beginning to want to play politics with her, then she was staying as far away as possible.
Chapter 6
Cameron helped Sophie settle into the seat of the hired carriage before taking the seat opposite her. He thumped on the wall behind him to tell the driver to move off but kept his eye on Sophie's face. Despite her insistence that she no longer felt ill, she looked paler than she should, and tired.
"So," he said when the carriage was moving through the traffic and he was satisfied that the driver wouldn't overhear anything they said despite the lack of wards. "Do you want to tell me what really happened back there?"
Sophie's eyes widened. "What do you mean?"
"I mean
that I don't think you had portal sickness. Did you?" Even though he was sure he was right, he'd insisted on taking a carriage for their return journey. Not only to spare Sophie any further discomfort but because this was a conversation he preferred to hold outside the Academe.
"I—" Sophie started, then hesitated. "I'm not sure," she said eventually. "It could have been the portal."
"I don't think it was," Cameron said. "Because when you doubled over, I felt something through our bond. And that's never happened before when I've been with you going through a portal." The sensation hadn't been strong. A brief tug on the link they shared. A flare of connection that had faded as fast as it had bloomed. Or maybe he had been too busy focusing on Sophie to really pay attention. Come to think of it, it had been much like the sensation that had woken him that morning. "What happened in the temple? And does it have anything to do with whatever happened in your lesson this morning?'
Her mouth dropped open. "How did you know about that?"
Damn it. He hadn't wanted to be right. "What happened?"
"At the temple or at the lesson?"
"Start with the lesson. Taking things from the beginning makes things easier, I find."
Sophie twined her hands together, her fingers restlessly playing with the ring she wore. His ring.
"Sophie," he said. "Talk to me. I'm not angry. Just worried."
"I told you, they wanted me to try scrying," Sophie said.
"That sounds like leaping off a cliff before you can even walk," Cameron said. There were many reasons why water magic was reviled in Anglion. The power of the sanctii was one. The power of water mages to glimpse—and try to manipulate—the future was another. The thought of Sophie using such powers was...unsettling.
"They said they were trying to see what I could do already," Sophie said. "They made me call Elarus first."
"Ah. Yes. Elarus." He glanced around. "Is she here?" Sophie claimed to be able to feel water magic—and sanctii—by the chill that accompanied them. But if it were true, then it wasn't something he shared through their bond. He’d felt a chill perhaps when Elarus had touched him but nothing more. It was difficult enough being in Illvya knowing that there were sanctii at the beck and call of the water mages. Knowing that Sophie now had one, a sanctii who might easily choose to be invisible or incorporeal—he didn't know exactly which it was the sanctii did—while accompanying his wife made the back of his neck prickle uneasily.
