Skies (23 page)

“Alright, child, out with it. I am not upset with you for earlier. The more you come to represent your ideal the more often we will be in conflict with one another. It is the perpetual bane of being a teacher. At some point the student stops wishing to learn and forms their own unchangeable opinions.”

Lhaurel wasn’t sure if that was a compliment or an insult, but it was enough to give her the motivation to speak.

“House Kelkott,” Lhaurel said slowly. “Earlier you said that it was one of the Great Houses. I don’t understand what you meant. My memories on that are vague at best, even my other, more recently obtained ones.”

Talha smirked and, for a moment, Lhaurel saw the face of the woman she’d first come to know on the journey. “No, you would not know. Elyana would not have known either, I would imagine. The Seven Sisters acted as both a governing body and religious representatives a millennia ago. That was no longer possible as the Empire grew and expanded.”

“I’m not sure what that means.”

“What that means is the Seven Sisters used to have ultimate power of the people. Now, rule is divided into religious and political areas of control. Several hundred years ago, several larger families that controlled key economic areas banded together and forced a market system on the others that made trade the chief driving force of the economy. There are hundreds of “houses” but only a few that are important or wealthy enough to maintain power for long. Those that manage it become the Great Houses.”

“I’m still not sure what that means,” Lhaurel admitted. “Though it sounds complicated and boring.”

Talha chuckled and patted Lhaurel’s hand. “Politics is a strange and often ugly creature, Lhaurel. I’m not sure I understand it the majority of the time, and I’ve spent the better part of a century trying to figure it out.”

“Is it really that complicated?” Lhaurel made a face. Was there anything she had to learn that
wasn’t?

“Oh, it’s much more so than even that seems, child, but I can help you with what I can. I think I even have a book discussing the current political structure in the Empire somewhere among my belongings.”

Lhaurel made a face, one which Talha noticed.

“Books are the closest to immortality we can come, child,” Talha said, getting to her feet. “The written word, the means of passing undiluted information from one generation to another, is what separates the enlightened from the base creatures wallowing in the mud. It is, I think, the main reason why you Rahuli degenerated so far over the last thousand years.”

“Degenerated?”

“I meant no insult. It was a simple statement of fact. You have fallen far from where you once were.”

“I wasn’t insulted, though I’m considering it now,” Lhaurel said, though she knew Talha could tell she didn’t mean it. “I just didn’t understand the word.”

“Ah, well, come along then.” Talha picked up her book and made a gesture with one hand for Lhaurel to follow. “We have much to learn before we reach Estrelar.”

Lhaurel groaned, though she knew she’d been the one to instigate this particular learning session with her questions. “Will there ever
not
be a lot to learn?” she asked.

Ahead of her, Talha shook her head, setting her blood red hair to dance across her neck. “I would certainly hope not.”

***

The journey down the canals took one long, wet week. Lhaurel spent the majority of her time in the doorway of one of the small cabins built onto the barge’s deck, studying books and talking with Talha while it rained. The weather had taken a turn for the worst that first night, a tempest of winds bringing in a storm which dumped an enormous quantity of water down on them. Lhaurel remembered her fascination well, standing out in the rain with her face turned up toward the sky until Talha had dragged her back into the protection of a cabin. The priestesses were left on the rails, keeping them moving down the canal despite the storm. Though Lhaurel had seen rain before in the Sharani Desert, she’d never
experienced
it. It both fascinated and terrified her, especially when the lightning started streaking across the sky.

Now, a week later and with at least one storm a day, that excitement and fascination had slowly bled away, leaving only irritation and resignation behind. Talha had commented on the unusual weather multiple times, but had not yet been able to come up with a viable reason behind it outside of the volcano’s eruption. Not that she’d had much time to truly devote to the topic, what with teaching Lhaurel about politics and helping her to grasp the finer points of the religion. The Progressions were becoming clearer each day and Lhaurel was beginning to understand her role in it. The scope of the tasks before her was daunting, but Lhaurel was surprised to realize she was excited for it. Part of her longed for it, even.

Among the Rahuli, even among the Roterralar, she’d been an outsider because of her powers and abilities. From her earliest moments of clear thought, Lhaurel could remember being shunned, excluded, and mocked. Here she would be worshiped. While some part of her found that thought disturbing, another part of her longed for the attention. She had, after all, saved an entire race not just once, but
twice.
If that didn’t count toward being deserving of some adulation, nothing was. And when she had her powers back . . .

Lhaurel felt the absence of her magic now even more than she had since that first moment of fear upon waking up without them. Those first few days, travelling along in the wagons, she’d been either too scared or too confused to really consider the absence of her magic much outside of the context of it leaving her weaponless. It had grown from that, but had still remained something she could easily ignore, something she thought about only when Talha reminded her of the fact that she would die without it or when she was in a situation—like at the ocean—where she felt its absence prevented her from truly experiencing something.

In truth, a small part of her welcomed the absence, some part of her that perhaps even questioned whether or not it was better without them. Both those voices were now gone. It had started slowly at first, a simple longing, a gnawing at her desires, but within a week of boarding the barge, Lhaurel craved the return of her abilities like a starving man desired food. When Lhaurel had mentioned this to Talha, she’d guessed the desire had spiked when she’d healed Lhaurel from the head wound she’d received when she’d fallen on the initial launch from the locks.

They’d passed through a second set of locks that marked their entering the Central Dominion the night before. Lhaurel had been asleep for the actual transition and hadn’t seen the town through which they’d passed, a place called Effarve, though she had heard from her priestesses that it was at least three times larger than Geithoorn.

Lhaurel now knew the name of each of the priestesses with her. She’d made a point of speaking to each of them in turn, despite Talha’s stern disapproval. The priestesses worked tirelessly at the rails, using their wetta abilities to keep the craft moving safely along at quick, consistent speed. Only once had there been any sort of mishap, and that had been the fault of the foolish bargeman who had tried to pass them late at night wishing, waiting for the right moment to do so. Lhaurel felt she owed them at least the courtesy of knowing their names in honor of them working themselves to the point of exhaustion. They all shared one of the cabins when not working the rails, while Lhaurel and Talha each had their own. Lhaurel wondered how they managed to fit upwards of six women at one time in the tiny, cramped space, but not one of them ever complained.

“Lhaurel,” Talha said, snapping Lhaurel out of her thoughts and back to the moment at hand.

Talha sat on the bed, ink-stained hands folded in her lap. Rain made a steady patter of sound outside the open door where Lhaurel sat, back pressed up against one wall of her small cabin, absently rubbing the small blemish that had appeared on the back of her hand a few days before.

When Lhaurel had shown the mark to Talha, the woman had simply smiled and nodded as if were to be expected. In truth, it had been expected, but all it had done was amplify Lhaurel’s desire to get her powers back.

“Sorry, Talha, what was that?” Lhaurel said. They’d been talking about the Great Houses again, but Lhaurel’s mind had drifted off about the time they got to naming the major members of each family and how they were all related to one another. She had no idea how they’d all managed to live long enough to have to use terms like third or fourth cousins. Among the Rahuli, even one living aunt or uncle was hard to find.

“The Great Houses, Lhaurel, can you name them?”

“Yes. Kelkott, Ahkon, Mydan, Leyhend, Burget, Creager, Tingey, Sonswen, and Chacin.”

“And what do they control?”

“Economic trade, the laws and judicial body of the Empire, and the military not in service to the Sisters.”

Talha nodded. “Well, at least you have the basics down. Your priestesses can assist you with the rest in your first Devotions and during the times when you have to meet with supplicants.”

“Who?”

“Those who come to worship the Progression. Your followers. Believers.”

“You’ve never mentioned that part before,” Lhaurel said, not even trying to hide her frustration.

“There has not been sufficient time. There is no need to worry yourself over much with it. Most will take what they will from your words regardless of what you actually say. It is the burden of those who speak or teach to be misinterpreted.”

“You say things like that all the time,” Lhaurel snapped, her frustration with being stuck inside the cabin and her own restless insecurities finally boiling over. “Maybe
you
don’t worry about it, but I do. I have no idea what I’m doing or why I’m even doing this. Part of me wants to tell you to go jump into the canal and forget me acting like one of your
Sisters
.”

Talha raised an eyebrow and steepled her fingers before her, regarding Lhaurel intently over them.

“You’re doing this because if you do not, the Rahuli people will die. Sellia will take great delight in killing them. She did not want to leave them behind. They’re a threat. A liability. It was only because she did not think they would survive the winter that she even considered it at all.”

Lhaurel felt a chill run through her. She’d already known why she was doing it, saw the faces each time she closed her eyes. Getting to Estrelar meant saving her people, but that was secondary now. Getting to Estrelar was about becoming a Sister and regaining her powers. The Rahuli were safe for now. It wasn’t as if the Sisters would trudge back up to where they’d left the Rahuli just out of spite, not so soon after leaving. Still, hearing the emotionless, factual statements from Talha cut away her frustration faster than a sailfin pack could strip flesh off a body. Maybe they
would
actually do it just to spite her. Sellia might, at least.

“I think you may be surprised,” Lhaurel said, carefully, looking down at her hand. “The Rahuli are stronger than you give them credit for. And Sellia would have been hard pressed to get me to cooperate if she hadn’t agreed.”

Talha laughed. It was a cold, bitter sound. “You have no idea what you’re saying, child. Sellia is the greatest of us all, which is why she has been head of the Seven Sisters for longer than I’ve been alive. If you had not agreed, she would have simply forced you into subservience and compliance. She does not stand for arguments unless faced off against a majority of the Sisters. And in this,” Talha gave Lhaurel a very pointed look, “she would have faced none. No, child, you would not have been difficult to persuade. Any true follower of Honor’s Path is easy to manipulate. You simply have to threaten those they love.”

Lhaurel rankled at the words. Not just a part of her. All of her, even the part instilled in her by Elyana’s memories.

Talha continued.

“But that is beside the point. You are right. These are things you will worry about anyway, regardless of if you should or not. It is the way of things. I forget, after almost three centuries as a Sister, what it is like to be a new one. I will prepare a list for you, of everything you will do once we get to Estrelar. For now, I ask that you trust me and learn what I have to teach in the order I teach it.”

“Trust is more precious than water.” Lhaurel said. The response rolled off her tongue before she’d even really thought about it, but even if she had, the statement was true. She
didn’t
trust Talha. Not in the least.

Talha cocked her head to the side and reached for a book and quill. “What was that?”

“Trust is more precious than water?”

“That’s the one. Beautiful expression. It probably flows a little better in the Rahuli tongue, though,” Talha said, making notes with quick strokes in her book. “I suppose it goes back to the climate there and a reference to the scarcity of water and its high value. The price of water. Hmm . . . that is quite the grand expression indeed. For the desert, I mean. Here, water is easier to come by than just about anything.”

Lhaurel blinked and shook her head. She’d gotten used to Talha’s sudden topic changes and tangents in the middle of conversations, but when the woman stumbled across new bits of information about either the Rahuli as a people or the Sharani Desert, Talha’s eagerness rose to an entirely different level. The serious, matter-of-fact Sister was gone, replaced by the eager, curious scholar.