Shadow War - Deborah Chester [73]
“Silence!” commanded a voice above the commotion. “Trust in the mother. Do not feed evil with your fears.”
The Magria appeared in their midst, naked and grim. Her gray tresses hung unbound down her back, and the terrible mutilation scars looked old and white on her skin. She was carrying a basin of dirt, and her face looked as bleak as death.
The fire blazed very high as she approached it, belching the evil, poisonous smoke more than ever.
Coughing and gasping, the sisters backed away. One of them fainted. Elandra herself lay flat on the ground, pressing her face to it in an effort to breathe air as yet untainted.
Undaunted, the Magria dumped the basin of dirt on the fire, shouting an ancient word that jolted through Elandra although she did not understand its meaning.
The fire died, and the green smoke vanished except for a few lingering wisps.
For a moment there was only the sound of coughing and retching. The Magria glared at all of them, especially Anas.
“Bring the serpents,” she commanded. “Let them finish cleaning this chamber. Search for any other traps that may await us. Use earth, not fire in this place. None of you are novices, to fall for such obvious tricks!” Her glare raked all of them. “You and you, bring the girl to me as soon as she is able. Anas, I will speak to you now.”
She turned and strode out. Anas, wearing an unreadable expression, hurried after her. The others exchanged glances of shame and embarrassment. Most faded away until only the two assigned to care for Elandra remained with her.
“Can you breathe better now?” One of them asked. She had a soft, kindly face. “Are you able to stand?”
Still nauseated, Elandra shook her head. Her eyes were streaming, and her throat burned from the smoke she had swallowed. She wanted to crawl into a corner and die.
Probably that was what someone had wanted her to do.
Her near escape had shaken her badly. Here among the Penestricans she had always felt safe.
They brought her water, which she didn’t want, but it made her feel much better and soothed her upset stomach. After a few minutes she could sit up. By the time the snakes were brought in, she was able to stand unsteadily.
Flanking her on either side, the two sisters supported her from the chamber and took her to a room fitted with a chair, a table, and a cot. A scroll-box stood opened on the floor beside a small chest of cedar wood.
The Magria sat there with a fearsome expression. Anas stood near her, looking tense and unhappy.
They brought a stool for Elandra, who sat down feeling as though she was made of glass.
“This will be explained,” the Magria said in a voice like iron. She turned her formidable gaze on Elandra. “You said the paper was yours. You brought it here deliberately concealed in your glove.”
Elandra stared at her in surprise. Was she being accused? Indignation replaced her astonishment. “How can you—”
“Silence!”
Elandra cut off her sentence abruptly.
The Magria leaned forward. “You said it was yours. You told the sister to replace it in your glove.”
There was menace in this room, combined with considerable anger. Elandra fought back her sense of injustice and struggled to present what she knew in a matter-of-fact voice. If she let herself get too emotional, they would truly think her guilty.
“I thought the paper was the oath I must learn for tomorrow,” she said in a quiet, controlled voice. Her hands were shaking in her lap. She curled them into fists. “It was given me as I set out. I was supposed to study it in my litter, but I didn’t bother.”
As she spoke, a horrified corner of her mind was refusing to believe her tutor Miles could have done such a thing. She had always liked him, trusted him. Why should