Kushiel's Scion - Jacqueline Carey [30]
"Cassiel's child," said one, old and venerable, laying his hands on Joscelin's shoulders. "You have ever chosen truly. Be welcome on this Longest Night."
Joscelin smiled. "Thank you, my lord priest."
An acolyte knelt before me, drawing one foot into her blue-robed lap, unlacing my boot. I balanced awkardly on the other foot, meeting the old priest's gaze. It was amused and kind, deep with unspoken wisdom.
"Kushiel's scion," he said to me. "What seek you here on this Longest Night?"
"I don't know," I said honestly. My foot freed, I stood, half unshod. The marble floor felt like ice. "What will I find, my lord priest?"
The wrinkles around his eyes grew deeper as he smiled. "Love, child! What else? You will find it and lose it, again and again. And with each finding and each loss, you will become more than before. What you make of it is yours to choose." He laid a hand on my cheek, and a shadow of sorrow darkened his expression. "Ah, lad. I would that your path was easier. But rejoice that you have loving guides to set you on your way."
I nodded, not knowing what was expected of me. "I do."
"Yes." He patted my cheek. "I pray that you do."
It was not entirely reassuring; but with that, he left us. The kneeling acolyte removed my other boot and rose, pointing the way with a smile. Unshod, Joscelin and I ventured into the Temple proper.
There was no roof over the inner sanctum; Blessed Elua's temples were always open to the heavens. In the Sanctuary of Elua in Landras, where I spent my childhood, his altar was in a field of poppies. Here it was contained within a vast walled garden with pillars marking the four corners and ancient oaks flanking the altar.
In other seasons, it was a lush and verdant place. Now the oak trees lifted crowns of stark bare branches against the night sky. Nothing remained of the weeds and flowers that had once flourished here save bent stalks, brown and brittle. Only cypress and holly lent a semblance of life.
Before us was the effigy of Blessed Elua on his altar, carved from a massive piece of marble. It is one of the oldest ones in existence. The workmanship is crude by today's standards, and yet there is a raw power in it. Elua stands, smiling, gazing downward, both his hands open in offering. The left bears the mark of Cassiel's dagger, the wound with which Blessed Elua answered the summons of the One God.
My grandfather's Heaven is bloodless, and I am not.
We approached, soundless on bare feet. The ground was frozen hard beneath our soles, so cold it burned. There were already two others maintaining vigils, kneeling on the cold earth; Cassiline Brothers, both of them. They wore the ash-grey garb of their order, the vambraces and twin daggers, hair bound into a club at the nape of their necks. No swords, though. Cassiline Brothers are no longer allowed to carry swords in the City. Both of them lifted their heads at our approach and favored Joscelin with long, silent stares.
He ignored them. For a long moment, he stood before the altar, gazing on Blessed Elua's face. I stood behind him, shivering in the still, frosty air, and wondered what he thought. Although Cassiel's order declared him anathema, Joscelin has always honored the one vow that mattered, his loyalty as unswerving as Cassiel's devotion to Elua himself. Drawing a swift breath, he stooped to kiss the effigy's feet, then stepped away. Finding an open space to one side, he knelt and composed himself, arms crossed over his breast.
I followed suit. The marble was icy beneath my lips, worn smooth by thousands upon thousands of supplicants' kisses. I made my way toward Joscelin and knelt beside him. The frozen ground was rock-hard, uneven and lumpy. Already I could feel the cold seeping into my bones, and my bare feet were chilled through. I sat back on my heels to warm them, rubbing my palms on my thighs.
The Longest Night was going to be long indeed.
No one spoke. In the distance, we could hear the City rejoicing, but within the Temple walls, all was quiet and still. I glanced sidelong at Joscelin. He knelt,