Reign of Shadows - Deborah Chester [117]
The room itself was a huge cavern, lit only dimly by fat white candles and the fire blazing in the center of the sand pit.
Elandra glanced over her shoulder but saw no snakes writhing on the sand. Puzzled, she swung her gaze back to her half-sister.
Bixia was as naked as she, revealing a lush, sensuous body adorned with possibly every item of jewelry she had been given by their father. Bracelets were rowed up both arms, and several necklaces hung around her neck. Jewels swung from her ears. Her blonde hair flowed down her back, unkempt and full of tangles. Fury blazed in her green eyes.
“Is this part of your training too?” Elandra asked.
“No! You simpleton, don’t pretend you don’t know what’s happening. You and your innocent airs make me sick!”
“But—”
“It’s all your fault! I’ll never forgive you for this. Never! I swear it from the bottom of my heart!”
“Silence!” commanded the woman behind them.
At once Bixia bit back the rest of what she might have said and bowed her head. She managed to keep glaring at Elandra, however, from beneath her tangle of hair.
Still puzzled, Elandra turned slowly back to face the sand pit. She saw a thin woman standing on a dais beside a stone chair. The unclothed Penestrican’s hair was braided around her skull. Her bare arms and legs revealed a network of mutilation scars. On her right wrist she wore a simple bracelet in the shape of a snake.
When the woman beckoned, Elandra walked slowly around the sand pit to the bottom of the dais. She gazed up at the older woman, recognizing an air of authority that was unquestionable.
“Are you the Magria?” she asked.
The woman’s slim brows rose. In silence she inclined her head. Her eyes were filled with intelligent scrutiny.
“Why is Bixia being treated like this?” Elandra asked. “As bride-elect of the emperor, she deserves respect and courtesy. Surely you do not blame her for what Hecati tried to do.”
The Magria’s eyes grew cold. “She has been raised by a witch. There is much to be held accountable—”
“But not by Bixia!” Elandra said sharply. “She didn’t know—”
“But you did!” the Magria broke in.
Disconcerted, Elandra stared at her.
“Yes,” the Magria insisted. “You knew about the witch. Answer!”
There was no denying it, not now when she finally understood what Hecati really was. “I knew,” Elandra admitted.
“And you did nothing. You told no one. You did not denounce her, as is required by law!”
Elandra bit back the urge to defend herself. There was nothing to say without being clumsy, no way to justify her fear without admitting cowardice, no way to explain the intimidation and coercion Hecati had practiced on her through the years.
Besides, she had a suspicion the Magria might already know the full circumstances. Warily, Elandra kept quiet, saying nothing even when the Magria glared at her.
“Well?” the Magria demanded.
Still Elandra refused to answer. Two could play this game of silence, she thought.
A terrible look entered the Magria’s face. “You are both fools. I waste my time with you.”
“Then give us to the women who are supposed to train us for marriage,” Elandra said with deliberate insolence. “Clothe us properly and treat us according to our different stations. Put an end to these games of yours.”
“Games!” the Magria said sharply. “Games? There are no games here, girl. Everything that happens in the sand pit is truth.”
Elandra faced her without saying anything.
The Magria slowly descended the steps of the dais until they stood face to face. Then the Penestrican circled Elandra, studying her openly.
“You are very like Fauvina,” she whispered. “The auburn hair and white skin, the temper and the courage. Very like her. Yes, the cycle turns. It turns, and destiny is written.”
Elandra frowned, but it was Bixia who stepped forward.
“No!” she cried. “You cannot take my privileges from me. I am to marry the emperor, not