Crown of Shadows - C. S. Friedman [219]
Bright futures exploded before his eyes, blinding in their brilliance. He saw a sky peppered with colorful explosions, winged carriages that flew like birds, a thousand and one precious legends of Earth come alive before him. There were things he didn’t know the name for and things whose purpose he couldn’t begin to guess at, but oh, the overall pattern was clear. Tears came to his eyes as future after future unfolded before him, not all of them perfect, but so full of hope! He saw what must have been a spaceship—how smooth it was, how plain in design, how unlike anything he would have imagined a spaceship to be!—and then the visions began to fade, pictures bleeding into a field of light, sensations into a numbing warmth—
“Thank You, Lord,” he whispered. Voicing the words within his soul, not knowing or caring if they ever reached his lips. “Thank You for giving me this.”
Slowly, peacefully, the Patriarch let loose his hold on life, and slid down into the embrace of his God.
Dawn
Forty-three
The Wedding was held in Merentha, beneath suitably sunny skies. There were storm clouds to the west, but no one saw them. There was a faint whiff of ozone in the air, harbinger of trouble to come, but no one smelled it. There were even a few drops of rain that fell upon the crowd during the ceremony itself, but no one noticed them, and the spots of wetness that lingered for some time afterward went likewise unregarded. All in all, despite the true weather, it seemed a beautiful day.
From his vantage point at the edge of the milling crowd, Karril grinned at the figure by his side. “Nice going, Sis.”
Saris smiled.
There were flowers strewn about the ancient estate in such profusion that the air was a heady perfume, the scents of roses, carnations, lilacs, and a dozen other varieties all mingling in the afternoon breeze. True Earth-flowers, all of them, rushed to Merentha from gardens and hothouses all over the continent. They were gathered in pots by the front of the house, they twined up the trellis supports of the bridal canopy, they festooned the silk canopy itself in carefully orchestrated profusion. On the great wall they had been arranged so as to cover the sections of new mortar and stone which had recently been added, making it seem that the antique barrier was as perfect on this day as it had been when erected, nearly five hundred years ago. And if the scent of the flowers lacked perfect balance in any one place, if the cloying sweetness of one bloom interfered with the delicate fragrance of another ... well, that was one problem easily corrected. It paid to have Iezu among the wedding guests.
“How many of us are here, do you think?” Saris whispered.
Karril looked over the multitude and ventured a quick count. “Ten that I can see. Maybe more. Hard to pick them out in this crowd.”
“All in human form,” she mused. Her tone that made it clear that she found the thought incredible.
“Of course.” He chuckled. “Wouldn’t want to detract from the proceedings, would we?” He patted her gently on the shoulder—nesh-toned, not silver, and as flawless in texture as one would expect from a Iezu of her aspect—and whispered, “It’s more fun this way, isn’t it?”
“Fun is your department, not mine.” But she smiled as she said it, and he sensed her relaxing at last into the unfamiliar masquerade.
A bridal canopy had been raised in the middle of the courtyard, in accordance with some ancient Earth-custom whose purpose had been forgotten even as its aesthetic details were faithfully preserved. Sunlight shone through the fine white silk, rendering it aglow against the azure brilliance of the afternoon sky. White was the color of weddings, according to Earth tradition, and despite the fact that most of Erna preferred more festive colors, the Tarrant clan had always been Earth-reverent in its practices. Today was no exception.
And Andrys Tarrant looked fine in white, there