large enough to stay warm, but not everyone’s built to their generous dimensions.
I finally stripped off, bathed and fell into bed, alone, in that state of weariness that feels as though you’re wearing armour after you lie down.
But every time I thought I might be drifting off, Enthemmerlee crept into my head, with her wide, solemn yellow eyes. There was something about those eyes; not just the colour. A look. Something fated.
Fain really hadn’t told me much. Maybe if I could find out more about the people she came from, I could pick up more of a clue. And I knew where to ask.
TIRESANA
A PROVINCIAL TOWN; the ceremony of the Choosing. A temple to Hap-Canae, the sun god. The yellow stone, chosen for its colour, bleached to the shade of dead lemons. The great bronze masks with their flame-carved hair glaring from the walls, the sun clashing off their burnished brows. The hiss of cymbals like water on hot stones. The scent of the ghost-lilies down by the great Rohin river, so heavy-sweet they were nearly rotten, mixed with the insistent reek of sewage and the ancient smell of river mud.
Sweating in our best clothes, hoping the ceremony would be over before the worst of the heat. Watching the priests and priestesses walk among the crowd; distant-gazed and dreamy, waiting for the gods to speak to them – or for the crowd to be impressed enough so that they could pick out the Chosen and get out of the sun. A small child, bored, fussing thinly and being hushed.
Suddenly, as if from nowhere, there was the Avatar of Hap-Canae; magnificent in gold and tawny silks, at least a head taller than anyone around him, and handsome as the dawn.
There were gasps and screams and a tumbling collapse as people fell on their faces.
He always did love to be theatrical.
I’d never seen an Avatar before. He outshone the bronze masks; he was like an alabaster lamp with the sun trapped inside it. His skin glowed, his smile lifted your heart. He was as beautiful as a jaguar.
Once everyone was over the shock, the priests scrambled up, brushing off their robes, and started a praise chant. He gave a little bow, smiling.
He looked around, slowly, but with great focus, like a hunter seeking a target.
His eyes locked on me and I was caught. I couldn’t move as he walked towards me. I couldn’t move as all around me the crowd drew back to let him through. I just stared at him, with my mouth open.
He stopped in front of me and looked down; I was already tall for my age, but he towered over me. He smiled and put one finger under my chin and closed my mouth. He smelled of cardamom and myrrh.
He said, “You will be an acolyte at the great temple. In time, if you prove worthy, you will become a High Priestess of Babaska.”
It was utterly quiet. You could feel the shockwave roll out from us, as though someone had dropped a stone in a pool.
It was just like the stories. An unknown servant-girl had been Chosen.
You could hear the crowd breathing, and a bird down by the river, singing an endless falling trill. Then the priests, who were as flummoxed as anyone, remembered how it was supposed to work, and started the celebration chant and drowned the silence.
He hadn’t even asked my name. He took my hand, and led me away from my life. I looked back, and there were the family and all the other servants, agape. The Mistress looked as though someone had doused her with cold water. But it was the guards I looked to: Radan, looking worried; Kyrl, grinning, giving me the thumbs up before she realised someone might think it disrespectful and dropped her hand; and Sesh, frowning, then giving me a tentative smile. I was so dazed, it was all I could do to raise my hand in a half-wave. Then I followed the Avatar.
I don’t know, even now, how the Avatar Hap-Canae found me. How he knew I was suitable. Had he planned to turn up for a normal Choosing, just to keep everyone sufficiently impressed with the glory of the Avatars? Had he turned up
I finally stripped off, bathed and fell into bed, alone, in that state of weariness that feels as though you’re wearing armour after you lie down.
But every time I thought I might be drifting off, Enthemmerlee crept into my head, with her wide, solemn yellow eyes. There was something about those eyes; not just the colour. A look. Something fated.
Fain really hadn’t told me much. Maybe if I could find out more about the people she came from, I could pick up more of a clue. And I knew where to ask.
TIRESANA
A PROVINCIAL TOWN; the ceremony of the Choosing. A temple to Hap-Canae, the sun god. The yellow stone, chosen for its colour, bleached to the shade of dead lemons. The great bronze masks with their flame-carved hair glaring from the walls, the sun clashing off their burnished brows. The hiss of cymbals like water on hot stones. The scent of the ghost-lilies down by the great Rohin river, so heavy-sweet they were nearly rotten, mixed with the insistent reek of sewage and the ancient smell of river mud.
Sweating in our best clothes, hoping the ceremony would be over before the worst of the heat. Watching the priests and priestesses walk among the crowd; distant-gazed and dreamy, waiting for the gods to speak to them – or for the crowd to be impressed enough so that they could pick out the Chosen and get out of the sun. A small child, bored, fussing thinly and being hushed.
Suddenly, as if from nowhere, there was the Avatar of Hap-Canae; magnificent in gold and tawny silks, at least a head taller than anyone around him, and handsome as the dawn.
There were gasps and screams and a tumbling collapse as people fell on their faces.
He always did love to be theatrical.
I’d never seen an Avatar before. He outshone the bronze masks; he was like an alabaster lamp with the sun trapped inside it. His skin glowed, his smile lifted your heart. He was as beautiful as a jaguar.
Once everyone was over the shock, the priests scrambled up, brushing off their robes, and started a praise chant. He gave a little bow, smiling.
He looked around, slowly, but with great focus, like a hunter seeking a target.
His eyes locked on me and I was caught. I couldn’t move as he walked towards me. I couldn’t move as all around me the crowd drew back to let him through. I just stared at him, with my mouth open.
He stopped in front of me and looked down; I was already tall for my age, but he towered over me. He smiled and put one finger under my chin and closed my mouth. He smelled of cardamom and myrrh.
He said, “You will be an acolyte at the great temple. In time, if you prove worthy, you will become a High Priestess of Babaska.”
It was utterly quiet. You could feel the shockwave roll out from us, as though someone had dropped a stone in a pool.
It was just like the stories. An unknown servant-girl had been Chosen.
You could hear the crowd breathing, and a bird down by the river, singing an endless falling trill. Then the priests, who were as flummoxed as anyone, remembered how it was supposed to work, and started the celebration chant and drowned the silence.
He hadn’t even asked my name. He took my hand, and led me away from my life. I looked back, and there were the family and all the other servants, agape. The Mistress looked as though someone had doused her with cold water. But it was the guards I looked to: Radan, looking worried; Kyrl, grinning, giving me the thumbs up before she realised someone might think it disrespectful and dropped her hand; and Sesh, frowning, then giving me a tentative smile. I was so dazed, it was all I could do to raise my hand in a half-wave. Then I followed the Avatar.
I don’t know, even now, how the Avatar Hap-Canae found me. How he knew I was suitable. Had he planned to turn up for a normal Choosing, just to keep everyone sufficiently impressed with the glory of the Avatars? Had he turned up
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