The Weaver's Lament by Elizabeth Haydon Page A

towering heights, and were beginning to show indications that autumn was approaching, unlike the glorious plants and flowers that were kept in a constant growing season by the heat that circulated from the hearth, making it feel like a conservatory.
    A screen of faceted crystal circled the hearth, casting prismatic patterns all around the rotunda, something that had delighted Rhapsody from the first time she had come to this place, and the dancing colors always gave her pause to stop and appreciate the beauty of the palace where she lived part of the year.
    Sitting on a cushioned, semicircular bench were Cara and Evannii, holding hands in the glow of the fire.
    â€œI’m so sorry to keep you waiting, my dears,” she said, kissing each of them as they stood and embraced her. “It took longer than I expected to see your uncles off.”
    â€œNot to worry,” said Cara. “We really appreciate the time you’ve taken to research the lore for us, but—”
    â€œTarry a moment, Cara. I know it may sound overly formal, but I need to put on a Naming robe, and to maintain silence as we go up to Tomingorllo,” Rhapsody said. “In matters as important as the one we have been discussing, it’s critical that we observe all the rites and rituals of Naming.”
    The women exchanged a glance.
    â€œVery well, Hamimen,” Cara said. “We will follow your lead.”
    *   *   *
    A quarter hour later, the three women were standing at the heavy oak doors of the room atop Tomingorllo, where the court and throne stood.
    â€œThis, unlike the main hall of Newydd Dda, is a more austere, less ornate hall,” Rhapsody said as she swung the pair of doors open. “I didn’t realize it when I first beheld this place, but the austerity is designed to keep what is said and done within this chamber as clear and commonly understood as possible. It is here that the united Lirin kingdom, representatives from the Lirin of the plains, of the sea, of the forest, and from Manosse on the other side of the Prime Meridian gather to work in unison on the business and leadership of the kingdom.”
    â€œShould that not be ‘queendom,’ Hamimen?” Cara asked jokingly. “You have been the monarch for a thousand years.”
    Rhapsody laughed. “Fair enough. I shall bring up that nomenclature at the next conclave, but secretly I am always hoping that another will come and take my place every time we meet. Perhaps next time it will be a king.”
    â€œAnd is that why you leave your crown behind when you go to Highmeadow, Hamimen?” Evannii asked. She was from Manosse, and, having only recently moved with Cara to the continent, had never seen the diadem.
    Rhapsody shook her head, smiling.
    â€œNo, my dear. It is always a great honor to wear the diadem. I try to remember that each time I place it back in its case. The next time the case is opened, it may choose another head to rest upon. The Crown of Stars is not my crown, beloved granddaughter. It is the crown of our people. Come, I’ll show you.”
    They entered the enormous room atop the tallest hill. On the other side of the oaken doors was a marble rotunda with an overarching dome held up by pillars that stood ten feet from the wall. The dome had a large opening in the middle, leaving the center of the room open to the sky.
    Across from the doors stood the throne of the Lirin kingdom, carved of black marble with pillar-like arms and a low, straight back. A great stone fireplace stood, dark and cold, at each of the other two directional points of the circle.
    Much like the iridescent lights that leapt from the fireplace screen in the main hall at Newydd Dda, glittering colors were dancing around this gigantic room as well. But rather than being generated by the flames of the fire shining through leaded glass, they were blazing with brilliant fragments of light from a small crystal crown resting