I shook my head. “No. I...” How did I explain how I felt, that my heart belonged to another?
Something caught my eye, a flash of white that was different from the fluttering gowns around me. A couple slid out into the darkness, and I saw it again, white hair haloed against the night sky. I had been distracted, and I had not noticed his approach. Now I felt it like a fire waiting to consume me from within. I gasped, and my feet were planted to the ground. It cannot be. How did he find me here? There are thousands of people gathered at this lake. He smiled as he approached. It was a dangerous, predatory grin. He is as drawn to me as I am to him, I realized. We are linked.
His hair was loose and billowing behind him. The light of the bonfire had given it an orange cast, and the darkness of his eyes was even more accentuated by the night. It looks just like him, but he’s not the same anymore. He bowed from the waist in a courtly manner. “Lady Diranel, what a pleasant surprise.”
I was terrified. He was calm and dangerous, regarding me with night-dark eyes, asking as if we had met by chance at court. What game is he playing? He must know why I am here.
My throat was too dry to respond. What happened in Keisan? I wanted to ask. What are you plotting? Did you send that horrible flood to drown the diplomatic delegation?
While I stood staring, Johai spoke to Hett in a low tone. Hett scowled at Johai, turned his back on him, and held out his hand to me. I knew I would be safer to go with him, but I also feared if I did, he would expect me to follow him out into the night like the other dancing couples. Will Johai harm me here, in front of everyone? What is his plan? He could have killed me before I ever spotted him if he wanted. Dare I trust him now? I shook my head at Hett. He frowned and said something to Johai in an agitated tone while gesturing with a pointed finger before he stomped away without looking at me again.
I gazed at Johai, unsure of what to do next. I knew we would meet again; I had just hoped to be better prepared for the meeting. I hoped I would be more powerful when this happened. His face was just as it had been in my dreams. Unchanged but for the black eyes that were nothing like Johai’s. His face, oh Goddess, it was his face and his voice, but I knew it was not my Johai who spoke and moved this way—he was a stranger to me.
He turned to face me once more. I could feel the power radiating off of him. It was warmer than the bonfire nearby, and his very presence was intoxicating. The draw I had felt in Neaux was more powerful here, and I felt like a moth drawn to the flame. It was a dangerous attraction that if I could not control it, it could mean my death.
“Shall we dance, just like that time in Keisan?” he said, holding his hand out to me.
I gasped, remembering King Dallin’s fete. I had danced with Johai, the real one. I had hated him then, suspecting he had taken my memories away for his own gain. How very far we were from that place and the people we were, but the tension remained. This is not Johai but evil wearing his face, remember that. I looked over my shoulder, considering fleeing. My companions had disappeared. I was alone, with the enemy.
“I won’t harm you, Maea. You freed me, gave me this body.” He brushed a hand over his front. He leaned in close so his breath ruffled the braids by my ear. “Besides, you and I were meant for one another.” His words were coaxing, and I felt myself being lulled into submission, though my brain shouted to stop.
He held out his hand once more, and I took it. He pulled me close enough that I felt every inch of his body against mine. I melted into his embrace. My brain knew that this person wasn’t Johai but a façade, but my body responded to him nonetheless. My body ached for him and the things that were not meant to be for us.
We moved together as we danced, and it felt as if the music was running through us. Thrumming through my veins and making me light-headed. His hands slid down the small of my back and cupped my buttocks. I gasped as he did so, and I looked up into the dark eyes. Those are not his eyes. They are the eyes of a monster. The thought sobered me and brought back some of my senses.
I pulled away as much as his grasp would let me. My breathing was painful, and my body was aching for him in a way I had never experienced before. I couldn’t let this go any further.
“You do not deserve his body. I will stop you yet,” I said, trying to sound powerful when I really felt like I would melt in his hands.
He smiled as he twirled me. He brushed his hands over my shoulders. “This symbolizes that you have yet to be deflowered. This dance is the virgin dance. Women who dedicate themselves to the Mother entice the men who they wish to couple with. It is an old tradition among these people and a rite of passage for the dreau.”
I stared at him, wide-eyed. This is why they had dressed me up, to let me partner with some man? Possibly one I had never met before? Thero and his clan may be different, but they would not deceive me.
“You’re lying to unsettle me,” I said, and I tried to look away from him.
He grabbed my chin and forced me to look him in the eye. “You are still so naive. But it’s better this way; that’s how I want you.” He leaned in and planted a kiss on my lips. I thought to fight him, but the feel of him and the taste was just like Johai. He pulled away, and I felt an ache so profound I had to hold my arms around myself to keep from reaching out to him. It’s not him, remember that. “I’m glad you came to me, Maea. It will make the game that much more fun.”
I thought I would fall to my knees from how weak they felt. He smiled again, a ruthless evil smile, and left me standing staring after him full of longing and self-loathing.
Chapter Seven
I SLUNK INTO BED IN the early morning hours. Shewa, thankfully, was not around. Despite how weary I was, I felt as if my body was on fire. Every place Johai had touched me, my lips, my hips and even my fingertips were ablaze. This is dangerous, more dangerous than I could have imagined. I thought he would try to kill me outright, not try to seduce me. When I closed my eyes, his face swam in my thoughts. His dark eyes, so unlike Johai’s, were burning into me, and the way we had moved together, it promised more. I took a shuddered breath and pulled my blanket closer. I have to fight this. He must have put me under some kind of spell. I rolled over and kicked off the blankets. I felt hot. The night air was cold, and it brushed against my flushed skin. I had been feeling the pull to Johai since the transformation, but being so close to him, it was almost intoxicating. What changed? I loved Johai, but since his transformation my feelings had gone from love to something terrifying—something I could not quite control.
I had to go for a walk, burn off some of this energy. I walked out of the tent, and the camp was empty. The fire pit burned low, and only a single curl of smoke wafted up from the glowing coals. The snoring of the clan and surrounding clans joined the sound of distant laughter and music coming from the continued dance. I walked away from the camp, without a purpose or direction. I headed for the water’s edge. I stopped to stare into the reflection of the moon on the water’s surface. The wind continued to blow, and the bells and charms in my hair clinked together softly.
I touched one of the cold bells. They marked me as a virgin giving herself in service of the Mother. I let my hand fall to my side. I had felt for a long time that I was working in the service of the prophecy. Do I need to give my maidenhead to seal my service to the Goddess? I glanced up and across the lake. I saw a large encampment. I felt that urgent pull and saw, on the far side, Johai. He was watching me, his white hair like a beacon in the night. He was too far for me to see his expression, but I could sense him nonetheless. We were linked. An irrational part of me wanted to go to him, to give him what my body was yearning for. That part of me wanted to believe there was still some of Johai locked inside of that monster, but I knew that wasn’t him. My Johai wouldn’t be playing this dangerous traitorous game. He would not try to coerce me. He always gave me the choice. He lifted up a hand, beckoning me to him. I took a step in that direction when something flittered in the corner of my eye.
I looked down to the water
’s surface. My reflection stared back at me. Then it changed subtly. In the place of my reflection came an image of my mother. She smiled up at me.
“Maea, you cannot go to him, not yet,” she said.
My flesh prickled with anticipation. “What should I do?”
He was coming around in my direction. I saw him from the corner of my eye making a leisurely trek around the edge of the lake.
“Run!” my mother said, and so I did.
I ran in the opposite direction, past the camps and over the hills through the sea of grass. I ran until the sounds of camp faded and were replaced by the soft chiming of bells. The wind smelled musky here, like herbs. I slowed my pace and looked around me. I could feel Johai in the distance; he did not pursue me. That was not the game he wanted to play—he would not chase me. I cannot run forever. A time will come when we must meet, when I will have to go to him.
“I’ve been waiting for you.”
I was startled by an old woman in a white robe standing in the middle of the grass plain.
“Who are you?” I asked.
I looked the woman up and down. Her hair was snowy white, long enough to brush against the ground. Her feet were bare, hard and black. She met my eyes, and she stared back at me with large violet eyes.
“You know who I am,” she said and turned to hobble down the hill. She leaned on a twisted cane.
I followed her down a small incline to a valley between hills. Nestled against a hillside was a tent. It had the same embroidery that most Biski tents favored, but it was different; instead of animals it was covered in a myriad of symbols. The poles were hung with bits of fabric, which twitched in the breeze, and bundles of herbs hung from the supporting beam of the tent. I walked down towards it at a more sedate pace. Outside the tent, a white cat sat at the entrance, tail wrapped around its lower half.
It stared up at me with wide green eyes. There was something soulful about those eyes, as if it had knowledge beyond understanding—perhaps it had picked up some of its master’s mysticism.
The old woman went into the tent, and I slipped in after her. Inside, the tent was bare of comforts but for a sleeping roll and a pile of blankets. There were plenty of baskets and jars, and in the center of the tent, a stone basin had been placed on the floor. The woman sat down in front of the basin, her legs folded in front of her, and her bony knees stretched the edges of her gown. She folded her skeletal hands in front of her as she regarded me with clear violet eyes untouched by age and time. I should have known the oracle was a diviner like me.
“You are the oracle?” I said.
She nodded her head and motioned for me to sit with a wave of her hand. I took a seat cross-legged in front of her. I had so many questions. I wasn’t sure where to begin. “I’ve come such a long way in search of your guidance, and now that I am here, I do not know what to say,” I admitted.
“Your questions will be answered in good time. First of all we must cleanse you.” She reached her hands into the basin and gathered up the water there. She splashed the water onto me, and I gasped as the cold water hit me.
I blinked at her, water running down my face. “Why did you do that?”
“He has ensnared you. You should not let the tainted one get so close to you. You are stronger than him, remember that.”
I wasn’t sure if I should be more amazed that she knew or ashamed for letting Johai ensnare me as he had. I touched my skin; it no longer felt feverish. The water had taken away the burning itch of desire I had been feeling.
“How did you do that?” I said instead.
“This is blessed water from the Mother. This place is sacred; the two combined can fight off his power. He cannot reach you while you are here.”
“Then we are safe here?” I was relieved and a bit disappointed as well.
“Not indefinitely, but for now, while the majority of his power is dormant, yes.”
“What do you mean? His power should be realized; he has control of Johai’s body.” I leaned forward; was there really hope yet? It seemed after so many disappointments it was too much to hope for more.
“He has control of the host, but he must wait until the gateway opens to gain full power.”
“The gateway, do you mean the eclipse?”
She nodded as she pursed her wrinkled lips. “Then you know that much at least. Good, it will make our task easier.”
“What else must I do? I want to learn. I have to save Johai from this.” Hope had been rekindled in me. I can save him. I will make good on my promise.
She regarded me for a moment without speaking. “You cannot save the host. The specter will use up his life force to reach the full potential of his power. He is lost.”
“No!” I shouted. My voice echoed back at me, and the bells in my hair tinkled as I shook my head in denial. In a few words she had burst all my rekindled hope. I had been trying to resign myself to that truth, but hearing it opened the wound afresh. You knew when you set out that it was hopeless, as did Johai. He warned you back in Sanore that there was no hope. I let him go knowing that there might not be a way to save him. “I promised him I would save him, and I will,” I told the oracle. If I would not admit the truth out loud, then perhaps it would not come true.
She clucked her tongue. “You love him, do you not?”
“I do.” What does this have to do with anything?
She touched the edge of the basin. Her old crabbed fingers traced the markings along the lip. They were painted in silver upon black stone. I looked past the stone to the water within. It called to me, as the water often did. It had been a long time since I felt the call this strong. I was beginning to worry that I was losing my gift. Now I felt it drumming in my ears, beckoning to look within and part the waters to peer into the future. I would not let the vision take me, but I did absorb the scattered images that floated to the surface. I saw a glimpse of white, a shadow, a room lit by torches, and a newborn baby with black hair.
“Then you are the prophecy’s fulfillment, the unbroken circle,” the oracle said at last.
I looked away from the basin and focused upon the old woman. She had to be well into her seventieth year. Unlike the other Biski, she was pale as new milk, her face lined heavily by time. Her gown was worn, and the hem was tattered.
“I’ve been told that before. What does it mean?” I asked.
“Before you can understand your future, you must understand your past.” She swiped her fingers across the water’s surface, sending ripples across it. The images disappeared, and all that remained was the black water.
“What is that supposed to mean?”
“Do you know who I am?” She pointed a bony finger at her chest.
I shrugged. It was childish, but I needed some way to vent my frustration. Why must all these mystics speak in riddles? “You are the oracle.”
“That is true, but I am also the keeper of the prophecy, as was my daughter.” She pointed her boney finger at me. “As are you, daughter of my blood, as our line has been for hundreds of years.”
I paused, studying the old woman’s face. Before her skin had begun to sag, she’d had a round face, and her eyes were large like mine. “Are you saying you are my grandmother?”
She smiled. She was missing three teeth, and her lips were thin as paper. “Yes, you are my granddaughter by my oldest daughter.”
“There are more of us?” I was stunned to think that all my life I’d thought I was the last, only to find I had more family than I could have imagined.
Her smile faltered. “We are the last diviners, you and I. My other daughter did not have the gift, though she became a powerful du-toath before her passing. So would her daughter be if she’d chosen that path. The gifts of the Mother are strong in our blood.” She finished with a bit of puffed-up pride.
I stared at her, wide-eyed. She was my grandmother, and I had a cousin? This morning I had felt as if I were alone in the world only to find my family was here in the south.
“I
am Biski?” I said. I looked at my skin; it was pale as ever. These are my people, and I never knew.
My grandmother crossed her arms over her chest. Her elbows were bony and jutted out from beneath her sleeves. “Yes, by half at least. Your mother left before she carried you. I suspect she went to birth the prophecy.”
“How could she birth the prophecy?”
“She thought the time had come. She misread the signs in the water, we argued, and she left. I never saw her again.” My grandmother looked past me and into the distance. I could nearly see the argument unfolding here in this small tent: my mother a young woman arguing with her mother of prophecy. I saw her storming out of the tent and the tears my grandmother shed when she had gone.
I lowered my eyes. She met her death in the north. She gave birth to me and then shortly after took her own life. I still remember the vision of her standing upon the shore, her dark hair blowing back like a banner on the breeze. What were you thinking? You had family here. Why did you leave me alone to fend for myself on the street?
“My mother died long before the prophecy began to move,” I said.
“I know. I saw her passing in the waters.” She gestured to the stone basin between us. The images flickered across the surface once more. Sabine’s face flashed across the surface for a moment before disappearing. I pulled my eyes away.
“The call is strong in you; I can see my blood has passed on well.” She smiled, this time without showing her missing teeth.
I wanted to look into the water and see what it would reveal. There would be time enough for that soon. I had questions only this woman could answer.
“Did you know of me as well? Have you watched me grow up? Why did you never come for me and teach me?” The questions tumbled out, each eager to be voiced. I had wondered most of my life about other diviners, and I had long ago resigned myself to being the last. Now that I had found my heritage, all the questions I had silenced demanded answers.
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