Bloodwalk - James P. Davis [15]
"Child, I stand in the Hidden Circle for us all. Neither age nor burgeoning plague will end this." Her voice was softer, placating Dreslya's look of hurt and confusion. "Should Savras wish me to fall and another take my place, so be it, but until then I must do what my mother and her mother did before me. Alone."
Dreslya nodded and her quivering lip steadied. "Yes, forgive my intrusion. I did not mean to offend." She bowed and turned to leave.
Sameska's stern explanation belied the sudden rage that built within her, but she held it in check. As she watched Dreslya walk away, she wondered what new rumor or derisive comment might be made of this behind her back and decided she might have her hand in it as well.
"Wait." Sameska's voice echoed in the long hallway, sounding louder than it was. Dreslya stopped, cast in the darkness between two windows, but did not turn.
"Yes, High Oracle?"
"Instruct the oracles and the hunters to gather in the sanctuary at noon tomorrow."
Dreslya turned then, worry spread across her smooth features as the import of Sameska's words hit her.
"All of them? A gathering?"
"Yes, child, all of them," she replied, enjoying the moment, eager to proclaim her terrible secret and assert her authority once again over the whisperers and doubters of the church. Then she added, "Something is coming, and we must be prepared."
She left Dreslya standing in the dim hallway, mystified and frightened, and closed the heavy doors of the sanctuary, ending their conversation.
Sameska paused behind those doors, pleased with herself and feeling younger than ever as she straightened her robes and studied the circular chamber.
She stepped quickly to the edge of the rune circle. She recited a traditional prayer and cast a minor spell of seeing, a divination to guide her through the visions she hoped to receive, felt confident she would receive. She focused her mind, blocking out all but the circle from her thoughts, studying its edges, arcane symbols intertwined with the divine.
The Hidden Circle was the path of the oracle, the center of Savras's attention in the temple. She sighed and trembled as she placed one sandaled foot within its rings.
She had no chance to pray or meditate, or even to draw breath before she screamed in shock and pain. Sameska was thrown to the center of the circle as power flared around her, pulling her down and squeezing her mind. Torn free of her weak skull, her consciousness was sent beyond the temple, beyond her pain-wracked body. She fought feebly, attempting to wrest control by mere reflex, before giving in to the invisible thread of magic that wrapped itself about her spectral form.
Never had Savras been so forceful. He had been silent so long, had withheld his guidance and voice. Sameska had been as blind as the common people who looked to her for protection and truth.
I'm being tested, she thought. This is a test and I must pass, I must be vigilant.
Again she was thrust into the Qurth, flying through its perversions of nature, cursed so long ago by a Calishite sorcerer. His magic had survived centuries, winding its way into the soil and the roots, corrupting those that fed there. His curse was drawn into the forest's green embrace time and again to leave its lasting taint.
Miles sped by in moments, and as they did, she saw flashes of other places. Visions blurry and clear at once entered her traveling mind. The forest speeding by her was her present, but the fleeting images that appeared were the past. That same awareness one has in dreams told her she was seeing places and events that were already written in recent history. At one time, long ago, she might have been comforted by those things that were done and unchangeable, but the horror and fear she felt as she watched the unfolding scenes