PROLOGUE (105 page)

His fingers found and caressed a nipple as she slid his skin tunic up his thighs and straddled him. They rocked there, falling into the pulsing rhythm of the floor shuddering under them. Cloth bunched up and spilled free as they moved. She caught her hands in his hair and pulled his head back to kiss him.

Let it last forever.

In her dreams she sees the fire-woman again, pushing, pushing, pushing as she struggles forward, trying to press her way through the glittering, golden crowd that swarms around her like bees buzzing and stinging.

"Let me pass!" the fire-woman cries frantically.” You must not give her the skopos' scepter. You must not trust her! " But she cannot get through. No one even notices that she is there, astounding as that seems, given the way she blazes.

The hall in which they stand looms impossibly high and long. The figures robed in gold cloth who stand somewhat above the others, placed on a platform built at the far end of the hall, look half the height of normal humans. Maybe that is just a trick of the lamplight.

Maybe it is all a trick. Dreams and visions can be false as well as true. But Adica knows in her gut that this is a true vision. The only thing she doesn 't understand is why it matters, or where in the middle world she stands, if she stands in the middle world at all.

She lifts her staff, surprised to find it in her hand.” Come, Sister, do not despair," she cries, because the look of anguish on the fire-woman's face touches her deeply. She has known anguish and isolation, too.” There is usually an answer if you only know where and how to look."

Eyes as blue as pure lapis lazuli widen in alarm. This time, the fire woman turns, and sees her.

IN the sixth sphere there was always enough food, and everything shone with the golden light of plenty, courtesy of the empress of bounty, known in ancient times as the goddess Mok. But Liath despaired from the moment she entered the regnant's feasting hall in the palace at Darre, just in time to hear King Henry rise to toast the woman who would, in a week's time, be invested and robed as the new skopos, Holy Mother to all the Daisanite faithful.

"Let us pray fittingly to God, who have shown us Their mercy by bringing us a new skopos renowned for her wisdom, piety, and noble lineage."

How could they crown Anne as skopos? How could they trust her, who was the greatest danger of all? How could she stop them when not one soul in the hall was aware of her presence?

She pressed through the celebrating throng to the side of Sister Rosvita, who had interceded for her before. But although the good cleric looked thoughtful rather than pleased, concerned rather than joyful, nothing Liath could do caught her attention. The sardonic cleric seated beside Rosvita, who kept making sarcastic asides, brushed at his shoulder when Liath tugged at his robes, as though brushing at a fly. He didn't even look up.

She dared not ascend to the high table, where Hugh sat in the place of honor between Queen Adelheid and the new skopos. Hugh would not heed her; he had ensnared Adelheid and Henry both. Obviously he had become Anne's favored ally, even though Anne had seen him at his worst, abusing her own daughter. Hadn't Anne let him take Da's Book of Secrets? Had she guessed all along what he could become and meant to twist him to her own purposes, or was it Hugh who had twisted Anne?

Did it even matter? Hugh's goals, at least, Liath could comprehend: he wanted knowledge and power. All that mattered to Anne was destroying the Ashioi.

Without allies, Liath wasn't sure how she could stop her.

"Come, Sister, do not despair. There is usually an answer if only you know where and how to look."

She turned.

The woman facing her was obviously human, not tall but not particularly short either, with black hair neatly braided, a broad face and a generous mouth, and a livid burn scar marking one cheek. But she was dressed so primitively in a tightly fitted cowskin bodice with sleeves cut to the elbows and an embroidered neckline, and a string skirt whose corded lengths revealed her thighs as she took a step forward. At each wrist she wore a copper armband incised with the head of a deer. The metal winked, catching lamplight, and Liath blinked hard, recognizing her.

"I saw you kneeling before a cauldron. Where is Alain? Is he living, or dead?"

The woman shuddered as at the passing of a cold breeze, making a complicated sign at her chest, a hex to drive away evil spirits.” He lives. He is my husband."

"Living!" murmured Liath as hope flowered in her heart.” At least he is free, and alive."

"The Holy One brought him to me from the land of the dead. Is this that land?" The woman gestured toward the merry folk feasting in the hall as they celebrated the coming investiture.

"Nay," she said bitterly, "this is the land below the moon, but I cannot reach them. I cannot stop them from doing the very thing they must not do."

"I do not understand," admitted her comrade, coming forward to stand beside her.” I thought this might be the Fat One's realm."

"That land I do not know."

"Of course you know it. The Fat One is the giver of all things, pain and death as well as plenty and pleasure. Can you not see her hand here as well, in this place wreathed half in light and half in shadow?"

"Who are you? Where are you from? Where is Alain now?"

"I am called Adica, Hallowed One of the Deer people. I come from the land of the living but it is true that I walk now in the land of dreams and visions, as you do. Alain sleeps beside me, in the heart of skrolin country, deep within the earth."

"Now I am the one who does not understand," said Liath with a smile.

A horn blew. Like curtains rippling in wind, the hall shuddered as a rich, golden light spilled over the scene, folding like days running together. Had the world come undone? Was the belt twisting?

Liath staggered, dizzy, and found herself grasping her new companion's hand in a sober hall lined with dark wood and filled with a crush of people, as silent as ghosts.

The empty throne of the Holy Mother stood upon a smaller dais wrought entirely of ivory and gems which was itself placed upon a larger dais carpeted in gold and red. A procession worked its way forward through the throng, presbyters cloaked in silken cloaks, clerics swinging thuribles as the smoke of frankincense rose in stinging clouds, giving Liath a headache. Bouquets of roses and lilies wreathed the base of lamp stands and ornamented the closed shutters. Anne walked at the forefront, escorted by Hugh and three other presbyters, all of whom were far older than he was. He outshone them as easily as the sun outshines the moon.

"Ai, God," said Liath desperately, "I cannot let them make such a mistake. But I'm trapped here, because I'm walking the spheres, not standing in Aosta. I can't stop it now."

Adica had a serious face but such a pleasant expression that the words she said next shocked Liath, so agreeably were they spoken.” Yet if she threatens you and your people, then you must do whatever it takes to stop her. Can't you kill her?"

"Even if I had the power, I just can't," she whispered, "It would be unnatural."

As Anne reached the steps leading to the lower dais, her four companions stepped aside. Only the skopos could set foot on the ivory steps leading to the Holy Mother's seat. When she set her foot on the highest step, she turned to look back over the crowd. Liath saw clearly the resemblance in her stern features to that of her grandfather's death mask, rendered in stone in the chapel at Autun. None could mistake her who had seen Taillefer's recumbent statue. Here, in flesh, stood his missing heir, child of the son born and raised in secrecy to spare the infant boy a potentially fatal contest for the imperial throne.

With Anne as skopos, sovereign over the holy church, who would truly be more powerful? Henry, or Anne?

"Is killing unnatural when we hunt deer to feed ourselves? Is killing unnatural when we seek to protect our children from that which would harm them? Is killing unnatural when we fight off our enemies who wish to burn our villages and enslave us?"

"That's not what I meant." The hall had fallen into such a profound silence, waiting for Anne to take her seat, that Liath had a crazy notion that she had gone deaf. But her voice still worked.” She is my mother."

"Your mother? But you have a heart of fire."

Adica touched Liath over her heart and closed her eyes. Lips pursed, expression intent, she swayed her head from side to side as though seeking, listening. Her eyes popped open, but her irises had rolled back in her head, leaving only the whites visible. A thin line of drool dribbled down her chin.

She spoke in a hoarse whisper not at all like the easy tone she had used before, as though her inner sight had made a voice for itself out of smoke and ash.” Child of Flame, look inside yourself. She is not your mother."

The ring on Liath's hand flared with a blinding blue light. Cold stung her finger, shooting up her arm until it stabbed into her heart.

She screamed.

She heard their booming voices, far away, calling her "child."

She knew it for truth, pecause truth hurts far more than a lie.

"Did Alain send youl to protect me?" she cried when she could speak again.” To guide me?" She understood the trap of Mok now, the obstacle laid before her: the trap of false obligation. She had believed blindly, without trusting in her own judgment and wisdom and instinct.” If I am not the heir of Taillefer, then I am free of his shadow and of his burden. I am free to act as I must."

She pulled off the ring and thrust it into Adica's hands.” I pray you, Sister, keep this for him in return for the help he gave me. Let it protect him, when he is in danger, as he has protected me. If he ever needs me, I will come to him."

"Where are you going?"

Liath let her wings of flame flower into life, but she was sorry to see the other woman step back in awe.” To the sphere of Aturna, the Red Mage, who rules with wisdom's scepter. To find my mother."

Without the ring to bind her to Mok's realm, Liath rose easily on a draft of wind cloudy with incense as, below her, Anne took her seat in the throne of the Holy Mother and grasped the jeweled scepter wielded by the skopos of the church of the Unities.

SILENCE and stillness startled Alain awake. He was lying in the dirt with Adica's weight pinning his left arm to the ground and Sorrow licking his ear. Jagged pebbles stung his rump. He groaned, shifting to pull out from under Adica, and sat up, rubbing his hand. It hurt to touch it, still, but once he chafed the prickling needles out of it, he could close it into a firm fist. The snake's poison had neither killed nor crippled him, but he still had that faint ringing in his ears.

Dust motes floated in a shaft of daylight that cut through a cave's mouth. His staff, their empty provision sacks, and Adica's pack with her holy regalia all sat on the earth nearby. Rage whined in the dim recesses of the cave, scratching at the rock face that closed off the back. Laoina, with her spear, was poking at the rock wall as though to flush out snakes. Adica slept, hands clenched. Sorrow sniffed Adica's ear, then flopped down beside the Hallowed One and rested his huge black head on his forelegs. Doleful eyes regarded him. He rubbed Sorrow's head with his knuckles, and he grunted contentedly. Rage yipped, padding over to get a pat as well.

"Where are we?" Alain asked, picking up his staff. He tested the height of the cave's opening and measured the tumbled boulders. They could climb out, but it would be difficult to hoist the hounds out.

Laoina turned.” I am thinking it is a good thing that these Bent People do not want humans as their slaves, because to me it looks like they have powerful magic. They have ships that can sail through rock, maybe. How else could we have come here? By o

some sorcery the vessel carried us under the land to the country of Shu-Sha's tribe. When I was an apprentice to the Walking Ones, I met a man who walked all the way from Shu-Sha's tribe to Horn's tribe. That was when the Cursed Ones destroyed the stone loom and the fine city built by Shu-Sha's people. That man left at the waxing quarter moon, and he saw three full moons before he came to Horn's tribe. That's a long path to walk in one journey. I don't know what magic the Bent People used to make us sleep so soundly, but I'm not thinking we slept as long as three courses of the moon."

"That's a long way," he agreed, thinking that maybe Laoina had lost her mind or gotten confused. Something had changed about the way she spoke, too; the hitches and pauses had vanished, as though the language of the Deer people flowed more easily from her tongue. And anyway, he could not explain any better than she could the things they had seen in the city of the skrolin.” How do you know where we are now?"