by Melissa Mead
Miska followed Juliar through endless hallways, like unnatural wooden tunnels. They were almost empty, save for an occasional flitting gray shape.
"Thank the Ladies; she thinks you're just another lost kid,” said Juliar.
"Kid? She thinks I am a baby goat?"
He laughed. “Not that kind! A child. A little girl. I know darned well you're not—hey, not in there! That's a classroom. Here we are.” Juliar led her into a white room lined with high, square beds. It smelled almost like the Healing Cavern: clean linen, soap, and bitter herbs bottled in alcohol—only underlaid with the scent of candles instead of stone. A plump, ruddy woman pounced on them both with a cry of dismay.
"Just look at this child!” she clucked. “Soaked through, white as clean sheets and narrow as a needle. Where'd you get her, Juliar, lad?"
"Long story. Sister Dannae, meet Miska. Miska, meet Sister Dannae, miracle worker."
Miska dropped onto a cot. She looked for green ribbons in the woman's graying hair, but saw none. Still, her face had the same look of determined compassion as Midyora's. Even the contents of the bottles on the counter looked reassuringly familiar.
"I'm glad to meet you, Sister Dannae."
"My pleasure, child. You look a bit peaked—when did you eat last?"
"Dessert doesn't count,” Juliar added.
"Um ... yesterday?"
Nurse Dannae's eyebrows shot up. Juliar slipped out, and returned in moments with a thick slice of bread and cheese. Miska took this in her free hand while Dannae spread a salve on her sore arm. It smelt familiar. Miska sniffed, thinking back to Midyora's lessons.
"Arnica, comfrey, and witch hazel?” she ventured.
Nurse Dannae's eyes widened. “Very good! You'd make a fine assistant—but for now, you need a good night's sleep.” The nurse opened a wardrobe and handed Miska a folded cotton nightgown. “There you are. Show her to the girl's dormitory, would you, Juliar?"
"Gladly, Nurse Dannae."
"I can't stay,” Miska murmured. Her head spun with exhaustion. “I have to bring Kimo home."
"It's just for the night,” Juliar assured her. “Come on. You can't help anybody when you're asleep on your feet."
Juliar led Miska through a maze of corridors, stopping in front of a pair of high oaken doors.
"Go on in,” he said. “I'm not allowed in the Girl's Dormitory.” When Miska hesitated, he added “Find a spot near Lila. Little kid, reddish-blond hair ... She's been watching us all evening. Tell her a story and she'll be your disciple for life. Don't worry; I'll see you in the morning."
Miska edged into the room. Faces turned to stare at her: from near-toddlers, wide-eyed with curiosity, to young women near Juliar's age. Lila sat cross-legged on a cot while an older girl twined the child's unruly curls into a neat braid. Lila looked up, and her freckled face broke into a smile. She leapt off the bed, and hurried to drag Miska further into the new room.
"You are a new girl! I thought so. I'm Lila. What's your name? Come on—there's a spot by the window, and mine's right next to it. Right here. Isn't it a nice one?"
Miska couldn't see a difference between here and anywhere else in the room. Dozens of cots lined the walls, covered with identical gray blankets. A small dresser stood by each one, and from these the girls were pulling white gowns like the one Nurse Dannae had given her. The whole Temple was warmer, more comfortable, than anywhere in the Caverns, but the whole room felt depressingly monochrome. Lila danced from foot to foot, clearly expecting a response.
"It's a very nice view,” Miska offered.
"That's why this is the best spot.” The child pointed. “See? The Market is that way, and the mills are down that road, and ... Well, I guess you can't see, because it's dark, but I used to live down there, before ... before I came here. I'll show you tomorrow, or maybe the day after. Are you going to be a scribe, like Juliar?"
"She's going to clean privies for the first week, like every other new girl,” an older Acolyte called from across the room. “Go to bed, Lila."
"I'm not going to stay,” Miska said. “I came here looking for someone, and tomorrow I'll leave.” Lila looked crestfallen.
"Right,” mumbled another sleepy voice.
"Lights out, girls!” A yellow-robed woman appeared in the doorway. One by one, the girls blew out their candles, until only faint, watery moonlight reflected from cot railings.
"Goodnight!” Lila whispered. Rustles and rumplings whispered from the beds. Miska burrowed under the sheets and changed into the white gown. When she emerged, the room was quiet, except for breathing and soft murmurs that only magnified the silence. Miska set her clothes, carefully folded, on top of the dresser, and lay still, surrounded by motionless strangers and the lingering scent of snuffed candles. The blankets were warm and soft—and smothering her.
"They all assume I'm staying. Except maybe Juliar. The Elder Vedi—she'll make certain that I stay. Avoca would. Unless I leave now."
Miska gathered up her clothes and tiptoed into the hallway. She found the door to the first room, with the water in it—and it was locked. So was the next door, and the next, and all the windows...
Finally she slumped against the Infirmary door, exhausted, and fell asleep with her head pillowed on her cloak.
* * * *
"Lady's sakes, child! What are you doing out here?"
Miska bolted awake. Nurse Dannae bent over her, her eyes wide in the light of the candle she carried.
"Sleepwalking ... Do you do this often? Never mind-into my office with you. Let me make sure you don't have a fever. Hush now—in with you."
Miska barely had time to drop onto the bed Dannae indicated when someone pounded on the door. Nurse Dannae opened it, and Juliar stumbled in, rumpled and alarmed.
"Nurse Dannae, have you seen...” He caught sight of Miska, and stopped. “Oh. Never mind. Are you all right, Miska? Lila was frantic when she woke up and couldn't find you."
"I'm sorry. I had to ... I couldn't sleep."
Juliar studied her gravely, and nodded.
"I said I'd help you, remember."
"Yes."
"You're not helping her by keeping her awake at this hour, lad,” Dannae interrupted “And what are you doing up, yourself? A fine example you're setting."
Miska watched with sleepy amusement as the nurse hooded the lamp and shooed Juliar away as though he were a chicken.
"Get to bed, lad. We'll be fine here. Goodness knows, if I can manage you, I can manage anyone. Go on. Out!"
"Goodnight, Miska!” he hollered as Dannae shoved him out of the room.
"Out, I said!"
"I promised her cinnamon toast for breakfast!” came the faint call through the closed door
"That boy. Cinnamon toast. Hmph!” was the last thing Miska remembered hearing before she fell asleep.
Cinnamon toast quite lived up to its reputation, Miska decided the next morning. Soon she'd be finding Kimo, but for now it was wonderful to sit on this high, soft bed, in clean, dry (if gray) clothes, and crunch happily on sweet bread that didn't need to have the moldy parts cut off. Dannae offered a second slice, scrutinizing Miska all the while.
"You're older than you look,” the human challenged.
"Mmm,” Miska agreed through a mouthful of toast. She swallowed. “This is wonderful ... Nurse?” It was a strange word, but it fit the motherly Dannae quite well.
"Thank you. And you're as bad as Juliar for evading questions."
"Yes'm.” Miska tilted her head. “Here he is now, too."
"I don't...” Dannae began, only to be interrupted by a rap-tappity-tap on the door.
"Everybody decent in there? Any toast left?” Juliar called. Dannae stared at Miska, who shrugged apologetically, and opened the door.
"Morning, Sister Dannae. Hi, Miska.” He snatched a slice of toast from the plate. “Lovely outfit. So very ... uniform."
"Juliar, what have I told you about banging on the door with that stick?” Dannae scolded.
> "It scratches the finish and I shouldn't do it,” replied Juliar promptly. “Absolutely reprehensible. I'd apologize on my knees, but I'd never get up again.” He leaned against the counter and bit into his slice of toast.
"Reprobate,” Dannae muttered fondly.
"Vedi Sharanis would like to see Miska in the Meditation room,” Juliar continued. “Great toast, Nurse Dannae."
Miska finished the last bite of hers. “Just let me change back into my own clothes, first. Where are they?"
"Keep those, dear,” Sister Dannae urged. “Your own were quite ragged."
"The green cloak, at least. I have to keep that. Doddi gave it to me.” Miska leapt off the bed and ran from cupboard to cupboard, searching.
"Easy now ... Here it is.” Dannae handed her the familiar bundle. “It's stained, you know. I could wash it for you.” But Miska was already adjusting the hood. A young Acolyte came in, snuffling over a scraped knee. Miska took advantage of the distraction and headed for the door.
"I'm ready, Juliar. Let's hurry ... I shouldn't dawdle much longer."
* * * *
They passed from dim hallways to glittering light. Vedi Sharanis watched them enter. Miska looked around, awed.
"We're inside the flame!” she exclaimed. Through the swirl of glass, the sky looked like a sweep of blue silk gemmed with topaz. Motes twinkled in the diffused sunlight. All around the room ran alternating benches and polished wooden shelves laden with candles. Tall white tapers, like the ones in the Prayer Room, stood at the ends of each shelf. Tiny votives, shaped to fit in a clasped hand, sat like chips of rainbows among them. Bright velvet cushions lay in soft heaps on the floor. In the very center of the room, pots of liquid wax steamed gently around a glowing silver candle. “How beautiful!"
"Under the flame, rather,” said Vedi Sharanis. A smile just touched the stern priestess’ face. “Come here, Dear."
Miska inched closer.
"You've never come to the Star Temple before.” Vedi Sharanis studied Miska gravely. “Goodness, is that blood? Won't you let us find you a nice woolen jacket instead?"
Miska covered the stained corner of her cape.
"I can see this is going to be quite a talk,” Vedi Sharanis spoke more lightly than her expression implied. She pushed back Miska's hood and studied her face. Her touch was gentle. Still, Miska had to restrain herself from pulling away.
"And what's your full name?” The woman in orange spoke kindly, but her look was intense, questing. Dannae had raised too many uncomfortable questions already. And here was a dilemma. If she gave a trade name now, Juliar would be confused, maybe angry. He might think she'd lied, and not help her.
"Miska ... Vedi Sharanis."
"Unusual. Just Miska? No mother's name?"
"She has no parents, Vedi Sharanis,” Juliar put in. “She..."
"I see.” The priestess patted Miska's shoulder, softly. “I'll have your cloak washed, and put it in the Girl's Dormitory for you. Lila will be delighted..."
"No!” Miska cried. Vedi Sharanis frowned.
"She has other family, Vedi Sharanis,” Juliar interposed. “She's not here to serve the Temple. She's only looking for her cousin. Have any other children come in today?"
"Other than Miska? No.” She circled Miska, who averted her eyes. “But since she'll be staying here..."
"I will not!"
"I promised Miska that she could leave when she wished,” Juliar added softly. “I gave my word."
"That wasn't for you to decide, Juliar, and you know it. I..."
A bell rang. Lila entered and bowed.
"It's Lady Myringa, Priestess,” she said, staring questioningly at Miska.
"Thank you, Lila. Tell her to have a seat in the anteroom. Offer her some tea. She likes jasmine with a slice of orange. I'll be there shortly."
Lila bowed, and left.
"Now, Miska, Juliar, you realize I'm not about to send a child out alone, in this cold."
"She's hardly a child, Vedi Sharanis. The topaz..."
The bell clanged again, repeatedly, as though someone were hauling on the rope. A moment later Lila re-entered, looking disheveled.
"Lady Myringa says it's an emergency, Priestess. She says..."
"...That I don't have time to waste drinking tea. That's right. Excuse me.” Lady Myringa shouldered—and hipped and bosomed—her way into the room.
The cloud of perfume hit Miska first, like a rose-scented pillow to her face. Lady Myringa herself, a massive woman swathed in a cloud of pink drapery, was merely its nucleus. An incongruous midnight-blue veil covered her face, and an indigo armband circled one plump arm. She lumbered up to Vedi Sharanis and waggled a gloved finger at the priestess, who didn't even blink.
"Your serving boy delivered ivory candles. I can't pay proper homage to poor Thanli without proper white candles!"
"I'll send someone to your home with a new box tomorrow, Lady Myringa."
"And poor Thanli? You'd have his spirit lost in the darkness all night?” She took a step closer, breathing heavily beneath the veil.
"The Ladies shed their light even when it seems dark to us, my lady.” The Priestess didn't flinch. Miska felt like she was being smothered with roses. Juliar was surreptitiously breathing through his sleeve. Vedi Sharanis, perfectly calm, might as well have been standing in a fresh sea breeze.
"But..."
"Lady Myringa, it's been years. Given your ... devotion, I'm sure Master Thanli has safely passed into the care of the Celestial Sisters.” Vedi Sharanis moved through the invisible cloud of scent to take the pink woman by the arm. “Let me show you to your carriage."
"He didn't go without me. Thanli would never go on without me. I know it!” The commanding voice turned to a whimper.
She sounds like Kimo! Miska thought.
"Hush.” Vedi Sharanis soothed. “I will give you one of my own candles, from the scriptorium. Will that do?"
"Oh, thank you.” All Myringa's bluster dissolved like spun sugar in rain. “Thank you ... Yes, if you would.” She extracted a magenta handkerchief from somewhere in her ruffles and trumpeted into it. Miska tried in vain to catch a glimpse of her face beneath the veil.
"Come with me, and you may select one yourself.” Vedi Sharanis gently steered Myringa out of the room.
"That woman is a walking allergy,” Juliar muttered, snuffling. “She'll go on and on ... The Vedi's not one to complain, but she'll have to drink willow tea just to sleep tonight, with the headache she'll have."
"I can't stay here, Juliar,” Miska looked fearfully toward the door where the two women had vanished “Please."
"It's an idea, you know.” Juliar pushed aside a dozen candles and sat heedlessly on one of the lower shelves. “You could work for the Temple while we look for your cousin. You'd have a place to stay, and you'd be right in the middle of all the news."
"I can't sit here and eat cinnamon toast while those hunters kill my family, Juliar."
"You'd be looking for them. Just from a safer place. And I ... Well, I'd like it if you stayed a while."
"You promised! You can't keep me!” Her eyes darted from corner to corner of the stifling candlelit room. “This isn't centuries ago. We don't serve Humans any more!"
Juliar watched her, alarmed.
"It's not so bad being a Temple boy—or girl,” he soothed. “And there's no shame in it. Even some of the young ladies from the Great Families take a turn at it. Makes them look pious.” He snorted. “Most of them leave after their first turn on scullery duty. Lila's alright, though."
Miska backed away from him. “You promised! And I can't stay. It would be ... wrong."
Juliar's expression cooled. “Wrong? Why? Because you're a girl? It's all right for me because I am a b ... man, and lame to boot? Is that it? Being a servant's good enough for me, but not you?"
"No! But they ... I'm not...” A bell pealed over the outer door, and Miska stopped short. The outer door opened and three people entered. A stout, older man, an auburn
-haired woman, both muffled in furs, and...
"Lindi!” Miska cried. “Cousin!"
"You!” The girl was draped neck to ankles in a plain white robe. She shrank back toward her aunt and uncle. They moved to shield her, looking utterly baffled.
"Do you know this girl, Lindi?” asked Doria.
"Yes ... no! She's..."
"She's going to have a lot of explaining to do,” said Juliar pointedly. He stepped in front of Miska, calm demeanor in place. “I am Juliar, Servant of the Star Ladies. How may I help you?"
"I'm Doria Lamarie, of North Reach.” The older woman pumped Juliar's hand vigorously. “My husband is Aldinan, and this is our niece, Lindilora Salera of Kivinan. We were hoping that Str ... Vedi Sharanis might send a Companion to our home, to be with Lindi during her stay with us."
"The Vedi would be the best person to assist you, Majestra.” Juliar agreed.
"Just Doria, please!” The woman smiled. “Lady Doria, if you must."
Juliar returned the smile, and looked questioningly at Lindi. “I had thought, from your dress, that you might have come for healing as well, Miss Salera?"
"Yes,” Lindi replied, still shooting nervous glances at Miska. “I have ... spells. I see..."
"Bright spots before your eyes, and double images ... and now you've begun seeing sounds!” Miska called urgently from behind Juliar.
"Yes!” Lindi breathed. “You're right again! Are you a healer?"
"Again? ‘Right again'?” Juliar looked from one to the other. “I don't know what Miska is, believe me."
"She's the girl I met on the docks! The one who vanished."
"You've seen this ... illness before, then?” Doria asked Miska.
"It's not an illness. All Ka ... all my family go through the same thing, when we become adults. I can help you.” Miska held out her hands to the trembling girl. Doria laid a restraining hand on Lindi's arm, and turned to Juliar.
"Is this girl a healer?” she asked sternly.
"No.” said Juliar.
"Yes!” cried Miska.
"And why did she call Lindi ‘Cousin'? They look nothing alike.” Aldinan looked at the copper-headed Kankenni, then at his auburn-haired wife. “Your side of the family, Doria?"
