Storm Warning - Mercedes Lackey [41]
“And you’re sure that there was no trickery involved?” Rubrik persisted.
Karal nodded. “Absolutely. It wasn’t an illusion, or how would Solaris have gotten the Crown? It wasn’t a mechanical device, because no mechanical could have moved as the statue did. And besides that, how would a mechanical creature make the Crown shrink like that? And Ulrich says it definitely wasn’t human magic, or he would have known immediately; even without summoning demons, he’s still one of the most powerful mages in the Priesthood. None of us have ever seen Solaris work any magic, before or since, except for the demon-summoning she was required to perform because she was a Black-robe. Ulrich says he doesn’t see how any mage could have delivered a lightning strike like that, animate the statue, and light the First Fire and still be standing afterward. Even if she or a confederate, or even a number of conspirators, could have done all that with magic, there’s still one question—how would she have gotten the Crown off the statue, and shrunk it down to fit her? The Crown wasn’t just some piece of jewelry that had been made to fit the statue—it was part of the statue, part of the original casting. The Crown is part of the statue’s head. It was deliberately cast that way to discourage thieves.”
“Huh.” Rubrik stared at the rain which was coming down in a solid sheet. Karal watched his expression very carefully, trying to guess his thoughts. “Well,” he said, very slowly, “I would have said that I didn’t believe in miracles, if I hadn’t seen one or two lately with my own eyes. Smallish ones, mind, compared to your moving statues and shrinking Crowns, but they definitely qualified.” He paused, and Karal had the sense that he was choosing his words with the utmost care. “The Lady-Goddess of the Hawkbrothers and Shin’a’in seems to intervene now and then on behalf of her own people, so why not the Sunlord, right?”
Karal nodded cautiously. He wasn’t entirely certain he ought to be agreeing to anything that compared Vkandis with some outlandish heathen Goddess—but Rubrik said he’d seen this Goddess working miracles....
Vkandis was supposed to have a Goddess-Consort in the oldest records, but she seemed to have gotten misplaced somewhere far back in the past. Or had the Priests in that far past been right to eliminate her?
This was getting more confusing by the moment. “Goddess?” he replied weakly. “What Goddess?”
Rubrik shook his head, and chuckled. “Oh, this theology business is too much for a simple soul like me! Let me order us some dinner, and you tell me just what Solaris did once she had that crown on her head, all right?”
Karal agreed to that with relief. Rubrik summoned a serving-girl, who eyed Karal in a way that made him blush and wish secretly that he wasn’t sharing a room with his master. He was only a novice; he hadn’t taken any oaths yet, much less oaths of celibacy and chastity....
Rubrik must have ordered something that the kitchen already had prepared, for the girl returned with laden platters in short order. Karal’s stomach growled as the aroma of hot sausage pie hit his nose. The scent was unfamiliar, as unfamiliar as most of the Valdemaran food, but even if he hadn’t been starving, it would have been enticing. He felt ready to eat the pie and the plate it was baked in.
Rubrik dug into his own portion without hesitation. “So,” he said, gesturing with a fork, “what did your Solaris do next?”
“There was no question of naming anyone else the Son of the Sun, of course,” Karal replied, around a mouthful of sausage and crust. He swallowed; the pie was wonderful, and the spices weren’t too different from the ones used at home. “Everyone who would have protested was there for the Miracles, and they were terrified that any more miracles would target them. Solaris was invested right then and there with the White Robes—she already had