Whispers of Heaven

by Krista Rose

  KYLEE

  I took a bath.

  It was uncomfortable, allowing the white-robed girls to attend me, pouring water and scented oils over my skin. I endured it, swallowing my pride. Lanya’s words from the night before still stung me, her mention of my “smell” causing me to grit my teeth and endure the embarrassment of being naked in front of strangers, if only because they refused to let me bathe in privacy.

  One of the girls finally beckoned, letting me know I could climb from the tub, and I stood on the drying mat as they approached me with towels. Determined to preserve some of my dignity, I snatched the towels from them, holding the girls off with a glare, and dried myself.

  Someone knocked on the door, and one of the initiates went to answer it. There was a murmuring of low voices, and she opened the door wider, to allow in-

  “Kryssa!”

  She grinned at me, green eyes sparkling, though she still looked too pale. If I had not been naked still, I might have flung myself at her; as it was, I couldn’t resist beaming at her, my relief to see her awake overwhelming my normal scowl.

  “Kylee.” She looked relieved, and I wondered how, even on the brink of madness, she could still manage to worry over us. “It’s good to see you’re alright.”

  “I’m fine.” I jerked a shoulder, trying to resume my usual indifference, but couldn’t manage to stop smiling. One of the girls handed me clean underclothes, and I donned them. “When did you wake up?”

  “About an hour ago. A priestess told me where we were. I ate and bathed, and came looking for you.”

  A warmth spread in my chest, that she had looked for me first, and I covered my foolish grin by busying myself with my shirt and breeches. The worst of the stains had been cleaned from them, the hole in my right knee patched, and I wondered who had stayed awake all night just to mend my ragged clothing.

  Kryssa sighed, and sat on the couch beside the tub. “I’m sorry, dear heart.”

  How many emotions could I feel in such a short time? I could feel her regret pressing against my shields, threatening to drown us both. My throat tightened, my eyes burning. “It’s alright.”

  “No, it’s not.” She shook her head. “I was too wrapped up in my own head to see you were suffering. If I’d known how much you hated the Camp-”

  I coughed, pointedly, and glanced at the initiates. I don’t think we should mention the Camp here.

  She rubbed her forehead. Yes, of course. I forgot. Her eyes were clear as she looked up at me. “I am sorry. I won’t neglect your feelings again.”

  I gazed down at the bracelet on my wrist, my link to the lightning. I hadn’t even taken it off to bathe. If I hadn’t been neglected, would I still have gone for that ride? I liked my solitude and freedom. While I wanted the attentions of my siblings, it seemed unfair to make Kryssa suffer such guilt over what had been essentially my choice. If I had truly made my feelings known, I had no doubt the others would have been willing to leave the Camp immediately. It was my silence that had allowed us to stay.

  Kryssa thought she had been selfish in the Camp for ignoring me- but how selfish had I been? I had not even tried to understand my sister’s pain. She carried the memories of the Crone in her head, that evil woman who had wanted to consume my soul to gain immortality, and had nearly lost her mind in the process.

  And I had never even thanked her for it. I had taken for granted that she would protect me, because it was what she had always done.

  I stepped back from myself, in that startling moment of clarity, and managed to gaze at the past year unbiased. Kryssa had nearly died, driven more than half-mad by pain and death and horror that I couldn’t even begin to imagine. Brannyn had been thrust into her role, unready for the burden, and his struggle to keep his fire hidden and the distraction of his happiness had blinded him to the dangers around us. Lanya, who I had always envied for her calm- how often had I woken to the sound of her quiet weeping, plagued by nightmares of the life she had taken, and, instead of offering comfort, had simply gone back to sleep? Alyxen had tried so hard to make friends with the Prince, to contribute to our cause, and had instead been betrayed. Even Reyce was grieving in his own way, his eyes too old for someone so young, the blinding light inside him hiding an aching emptiness.

  I had isolated myself so that I wouldn’t feel their pain. How could I blame them for neglecting me when I had chosen to shut them out, if only so I didn’t have to endure their agony?

  “It’s alright, Kryssa,” I said softly, raising my eyes again and making myself smile, though I felt small and shallow as the resentment drained out of me. “I like being alone.”

  I gave her my memories of riding Nightking with the wind in my face, the liberating knowledge that, if I truly wanted, I could go anywhere. Her sigh was filled with longing, and a tinge of envy that left me speechless, one boot clutched uselessly in my hand.

  “I know how you feel,” she whispered. “Some days I want nothing more than to outrun our past.”

  I swallowed back the threatening tears. “I’m sorry, Kryssa.”

  She stood, and hugged me. I was startled to find that I was now taller than her, and I wondered when she had grown so small, that I felt I could pick her up and carry her as she used to do with me.

  “I love you, dear heart,” she whispered, and stood on tiptoe to drop a kiss on my forehead, as the full force of her love surrounded me. Then she stepped back with a sigh. “I should go check on the others.”

  I nodded, desperately trying to swallow the knot in my throat as she walked to the door. Her hand was on the latch when I finally managed to find my voice again. “Kryssa?”

  She turned, her green eyes brilliant.

  I took a deep breath. “I love you, too.”

  She smiled, and quietly left the room.

  LANYA

  Kryssa was waiting in the atrium when I arrived with Melore, and I made a wordless noise of pure delight as I ran to her. She caught me in a tight hug, smiling as I clung to her, heedless of the tears that ran down my cheeks. Nephele looked on, her gaze gentle as she reclined on her couch, and I closed my eyes as profound relief surged through me, leaving my legs weak and trembling.

  “I missed you,” I mumbled into my sister’s hair.

  “I missed you, too.” Her voice, so familiar, so reassuring. The weight of responsibility for the others no longer rested on my shoulders. I braced against the urge to collapse at her feet and wail my heartbreak of all that had happened- but I reminded myself that I had worked too hard to gain my strength to show such weakness now.

  “Mistress Lanya?”

  I let go of my sister and turned, wiping away my tears with my hands. “Yes?”

  The young initiate bowed, eyes lowered. “Your wagon and horses are ready, and have been stocked with supplies for your journey.”

  “Thank you.” I glanced around, and saw that the others had already arrived, looking calm and refreshed after a decent night of sleep. Brannyn made a wry face when he met my gaze, and mouthed an apology. I accepted it with a gracious nod.

  Well, and he should, after acting like an idiot among strangers.

  Nephele rose, ever elegant, and bowed her head to me. “It has been a pleasure to be in your company, Lanya Rose. I pray that the blessings of our Goddess follow your footsteps.”

  “May you forever live in the knowledge of the beauty around you,” I replied formally, grateful to Melore for teaching me the proper words to say. “Vanae bless, Your Grace.”

  She stepped forward, and bestowed a kiss upon my forehead in benediction, though her eyes remained thoughtful on mine as she stepped back. “If ever you have need of me, I- and my Hall- are at your disposal.”

  “Thank you.” I smiled, and turned away.

  “I will see you on your way,” Melore said quietly, appearing at my side, and I nodded, relieved.

  We returned down the great, mosaicked hall. Now that I knew more about the worship of the Goddess Vanae, I could appreciate the art for what it was: de
pictions of the beauty of falling in love, the consummation of the passions which made life worth living. I glanced at Kryssa, grinning when I saw her blush, my newfound enlightenment making me feel a bit smug.

  The air was still and filled with fog, though it was no longer raining, for which I was grateful. The wagons were indeed waiting for us beside the great bowered fire pit, which I now knew was the Syrethra, where the Eternal Flame of Destiny was tended. There was a Syrethra in front of every active Temple of the Faith, each lit from a fire at another temple, supposedly tracing itself back to the sacred isle of Eire itself, where the Gods resided when they visited our world. It was upon Eire that the true Eternal Flame was said to burn, everlasting and brilliant as a star, filled with visions of the Grand Design, Destiny’s complex plan for the past and future of our world.

  I touched two fingers to my lips and then to my forehead in respect before quickly turning away. I did not want to see if this many-times offshoot of that holy Flame held hints of my future. I did not need any more reasons to stay in this secluded haven than I already had.

  Melore was smiling at me, though it looked a little watery. I sensed her genuine sadness to see me leave, the ache of loneliness that tied us together. She hugged me, and I fought back the return of tears.

  “If you ever have need of me, send word and I will come,” she whispered in my ear.

  “Even if it interferes with your duties here?” I teased.

  “Especially then.” She grinned, and kissed my lips before pulling away. “Our Goddess encourages pleasure before duty anyway. I would only be following my Faith.”

  I laughed, and climbed into the wagon. Brannyn and Kryssa were already in the driver’s seat, and Kylee was swinging into Nightking’s saddle, so it was only Alyxen and Reyce and our belongings that I was forced to share the bed with. I made myself comfortable on a pile of clothes as Brannyn shook the reins and started the horses forward.

  I gazed back at Melore as we drove away. She stood, still and silent as we drove out onto the road, the flames of the Syrethra illuminating the copper of her skin, the vivid red of her robe, the black mystery of her mask. I stared until my eyes burned and tears leaked from them, my heart hurting as I left her behind.

  We turned a curve in the road, and she vanished from sight, leaving me with nothing but her promise and the faint taste of strawberries on my lips.

  LANYA

  26 Alune- 7 Driel 578A.F.

  We resumed our long, slow journey to Fallor. Our single night in the Temple had done more than just ease our troubled spirits; it seemed to have at last brought an end to the rain. The skies were clear and blue, the air soft and gentle with the scents of spring, as if apologizing for the previous week’s misery.

  Alyxen, more confident and cheerful since his performance before the priests and priestesses of Vanae, told us stories as we traveled, so that the time passed pleasantly as the dreary, wooded landscape gradually changed to flat plains, and finally into carefully tended farmland. We passed field after dark, plowed field, the air filled with the scent of wet earth awaiting the spring planting.

  We began at last to pass other travelers, farmers dressed in plain, utilitarian garments of undyed wool or cotton, while townsfolk wore tunics and dresses of colored linen. After the first few strange glances we received, I realized that the robes I had stolen for us from the Camp were too conspicuous for the poor wanderers we were supposed to be, and so I bundled them away into the bottom of our bags, and brought out our old, tattered cloaks. It was nearly too warm for them anyway, and we only needed them at night, when spring’s damp chill still nipped at us.

  Seventeen days after we left the Camp of the Prince, we finally arrived in Fallor.

  It was not a large town; perhaps five hundred people lived within it. Even at a leisurely pace, we could walk from the horse-merchants at one end to the domed Temple on the far side in less than half an hour. But we had been raised in Desperation, and even our time in the Camp had left us unprepared for the smells of garbage and food mixing unpleasantly in the cobbled streets. The noise of vendors and animals and shouting rose into a cacophony that echoed from the walls of the whitish-grey buildings, their tiled red roofs fading in the afternoon sunlight. There seemed to be people everywhere, surging together in a press of bodies, faceless blurs of color hurrying back and forth in meaningless patterns.

  It was chaos, and it froze us in our tracks at the outskirts of town.

  Kryssa was the first to recover, and scowled, muttering dark opinions to herself as she urged the horses forward. The crowds parted reluctantly, most seeming to ignore us, but those that glanced at our wagon found my sister glaring at them, and moved more quickly to get out of her way. Kylee followed behind us on Nightking, and her unease made me feel jittery.

  Kryssa managed to get us to the center of town, where the majority of the vendors and shopkeepers seemed to be stationed across from a huge, sprawling building fronted by enormous white pillars. We hadn’t truly discussed how we were supposed to find our mother’s family, nor what we would do once we arrived in Fallor, and so for a moment we simply sat in the wagon, staring around us in shock.

  Kryssa had parked us before a dilapidated apothecary shop, and I made a face at the dirty windows and peeling paint on the door. It looked neglected and nearly abandoned, the sign above so faded it could no longer be read, but there was a gleam of light behind the grime-encrusted windows, and I was certain it would at least be quieter inside. Perhaps the crush of raw emotions from the strangers crowding around us would ease, and not press like heavy stones against my shields.

  I climbed from the wagon, Kryssa following silently behind me as I walked into the shop. The air inside was cool and damp and musty; despite the bright afternoon sunlight outside, it was as dim as twilight within. Behind the low counter and running along one wall were bookshelves, lined with rows of dusty bottles. A third wall was mostly taken up by a table which overflowed with parchments and scraps of paper, pinned down by a morbidly grinning skull. The window displays were so overcome with dust and spider webs that it was impossible to read the signs that sat in them.

  Kryssa and I exchanged wary glances.

  A fat man bellied his way out of the back, huffing and smiling pleasantly, though his eyes were curious as they looked us over. The dark apron he wore over his simple tunic and breeches was tattered and stained, held around his neck by fraying string. “What can I do for you ladies?”

  I took a cautious step forward. “We’re actually looking for information, sir. We’ve just arrived in Fallor, and we’re trying to find our mother’s family. Do you know where we might find the Moon residence?”

  His shoulders only sagged a little when he realized we weren’t a sale. “The Moons are a fairly large clan, spread from here to Ullyn. Who in particular are you looking for?”

  “The parents of Adelie Moonsdaughter.”

  He blinked at me, his mouth working for a few moments with no sounds emerging. Then he laughed, slamming his hand down so hard on the table that the skull jumped. “I should have seen it sooner! You’re Adelie’s daughter, aren’t you? Look just like your mother when she was your age. We grew up together, you know. Always the prettiest girl in Fallor. Tell me, how is she doing?”

  “She- she’s dead. Over ten years ago.”

  “Oh. I’m sorry.” His smile vanished for a moment, genuine sadness filtering through me as he silently mourned the loss of my mother. He pushed the feelings aside with considerable effort. “Well, Yara- that’d be your grandmother, Adelie’s ma- she died a few years back, but old man Moon still lives in their house over on Tarrow Street. He’s your grandfather. Best healer in Fallor. A right mean old codger, but I’m sure he believes in family, so he might see you.” His expression told us it was doubtful. “What are you looking for, anyway?”

  “From him, or in Fallor?”

  “Both.”

  “We would never impose on family. We don’t need their charity. But we would like to s
tay in Fallor, so I suppose we’ll need to rent rooms somewhere, and find jobs for all of us.”

  “All of us?” he repeated, one brow winging up into his hairline. “How many of you are there?”

  “Six, altogether. The others waited in the wagon.”

  He blinked. “Six.” He whistled, then shook his head. “Well, I don’t know about the rest, but I’ve been looking for a new assistant since that idiot Jenek vanished two months ago. He was lazy and uninterested in the trade anyway, but since he’s left I’ve had to manage the books, bottle the medicines and wait on the customers by myself. If any of you are any use with herbs, I need a replacement for him.”

  “I am, actually.” I tried not to show my relief, or my concern over working in such a dirty environment. I reminded myself that I needed the job, before someone grew suspicious of our depthless coin.

  “Good, you’re hired then. Spares me the headache of having to deal with it all.”

  “Yes, sir.” I hoped my astonishment wasn’t showing on my face; I really hadn’t expected a job my first day in Fallor.

  “What’s today? Earthsday? You can start tomorrow. Be here at sun up.” He glanced at Kryssa, then back at me and his eyes softened. “I’ve heard Eloise is renting the apartment above her incense shop. It’ll be small, but she keeps her place clean and the rent is cheaper than the inn. Her place is only a few shops down the street. Can’t miss it.”

  “Thank you,” I said, sincerely grateful.

  He flushed, and busied himself neatening a few scraps of paper. “Anything for Adelie’s daughter,” he mumbled, then coughed, glancing at me. “What’s your name, anyway?”

  “Lanya.” I nudge the stony-faced Kryssa, trying to prompt her to at least be polite. “And this is Kryssa.”

  “Hamar.” He smiled easily, ignoring my sister’s rude silence. His round face was open and friendly, and his emotions beneath it were uncomplicated by deceit or dishonesty. I found myself liking him, and his gentle, talkative nature. “It was a pleasure to meet you, Lanya.”