The Oracle's Queen (41 page)

T
amír was as cold as a corpse when they lifted her from the Oracle's chamber. Ki pulled her away from the others and sat down, cradling her head against his chest.

“Master, did the Oracle hurt her?” Wythnir whispered.

“Hush! It's only a faint.” Iya took charge, pushing Arkoniel and the priests aside as she knelt and rested a hand on the girl's clammy brow.

“It's a good sign,” Ralinus told the others, trying to calm them. “She must have had an important vision, to be so overcome.”

Tamír's eyes fluttered open and she looked up at Iya. A chill went through the wizard; those eyes looked as black as the demon's in the moonlight, and just as accusing. Tamír pushed Iya's hand away and struggled from Ki's arms to sit up.

“What—what happened?” she asked in a quavering whisper. Then she looked back at the well and began to tremble uncontrollably. “Brother! I saw—”

“Companions, carry your queen back to her lodging,” Iya ordered.

“I don't need anyone to carry me!” Tamír gave Iya another dark look as she staggered unsteadily to her feet. “I have to go back down there. Something went wrong. I didn't understand what the Lightbearer showed me.”

“Be patient, Majesty,” the priest replied. “Though the vision may not be clear at first, I assure you, whatever you were shown is true. You must meditate on it, and in time you will see the meaning.”

“In
time
? Damn it, Iya, did you know this would
happen? Why didn't you warn me?” She turned an accusing look on Arkoniel. “Or you?”

“All experience the Oracle in their own fashions. We couldn't risk coloring your expectations.”

“Let your friends help you back,” Iya told her sternly. “We don't need you falling and cracking your skull in the dark.”

Tamír opened her mouth to protest, but Ki stepped in and put an arm firmly around her waist. “Calm down and stop being so damn stubborn!”

Tamír took a deep, shuddering breath, then grudgingly let him help her back to the guesthouse.

He's the only one who can sway her like that
, Iya thought.
The only one she trusts so deeply
. The look she'd given Iya told a different story.

At the guesthouse, however, not even Ki could convince her to go to bed. “Ralinus, I must speak with you now, while the vision is still fresh in my mind.”

“Very well, Majesty. The temple is just next door—”

“Iya, you and Arkoniel wait for me,” she ordered. “I'll speak with you later.”

The sharpness in her voice surprised Iya, just as that dark look had. She pressed her hand to her heart and bowed. “As you wish, Majesty.”

“Ki, come with me.” Tamír strode away, with Ralinus and Ki hurrying along behind her.

Arkoniel watched her go, then turned to Iya with a worried look. “She knows, doesn't she?”

“If it's Illior's will.” Iya walked slowly into the guesthouse, ignoring the confused looks of the young priests and Companions, who'd witnessed the exchange.

I kept my word, Lightbearer. I will keep it still
.

T
he temple of Illior was a tiny, low-ceilinged chamber carved into the cliff face. Inside, it was dank and ill lit by a single brazier burning before a large, painted carving of
the Eye of Illior. The walls, or what Ki could see of them, were stained with smoke.

“Are you certain you want me here for this?” he whispered, watching as Ralinus put on a smooth silver mask.

Tamír nodded slowly, eyes fixed on the priest.

“But wouldn't it be better to have the wizards, too? I mean, they know about this sort of thing.”

Her eyes went hard again at the mention of them. “No. Not now.”

Ralinus knelt before the brazier and gestured for Tamír to join him there. “What did you see, daughter of Thelátimos?”

Ki stood awkwardly by as Tamír haltingly related what the Oracle had shown her.

“She said that I must take the Sword from the usurper's hand,” Tamír said, her eyes filled with sorrow. “That means war with Korin, doesn't it? She was showing me that there's no peaceful way to settle this.”

“I fear that is so,” the priest replied.

“It's what we've been telling her all along,” Ki said. “You've had it from a god now.”

“It seems I have no choice,” Tamír murmured.

“That was not all the Oracle showed you,” said the priest. “Something else upset you.”

She shivered again, as she had at the cavern. Ki moved closer and took her hand. She held his so tightly it hurt. “My brother—I saw him down there, but not—Not the way I usually do. He's always looked like me, or at least how I looked as a boy. He's a young man now, as I should have been.” She let out a humorless little laugh. “He even has the beginnings of a beard. But this time—” She was shaking. Ki wanted to put his arms around her but he didn't dare interrupt.

“It was as if—as if his grown body was a corpse. I could feel him. He was real.”

Ki felt a chill and looked around nervously, wondering if Brother could appear in a temple.

“And I saw him following me up from the hole, too. That's when I fainted,” she whispered, embarrassed. “Please, honored one, I have to understand. Everything she showed me seemed to be mixed up with Brother and how he and I are Skala, whatever that means.”

“I don't know, Majesty, except that the link between you has not been severed yet. Put that aside if you can, and turn your thoughts to the throne. The queen is the land, as the Lightbearer told you. Your life is dedicated to the protection and preservation of your people, and you must be willing to sacrifice anything to do that, even if it means your own life.”

Tamír frowned, tugging at one of her braids. “I'm supposed to fight Korin. But if the banner in my vision represented him, then I didn't know how! It was choking me. I was losing.”

“But you saw no defeat.”

“I didn't see anything. It just ended.” She paused. “Well, it was choking me and I called on Illior to help me. Brother wouldn't; he just kept telling me I must avenge him.”

“The vision ended when you called upon the Lightbearer?”

She nodded.

The priest pondered this. “You must keep this in your heart, Majesty. Illior guides your steps and keeps his hand above you.”

“The Oracle called me a ‘seed watered with blood.' She said she saw blood all around me, like a river. Am I to be like my uncle, for the sake of Skala? How can any good come out of evil?”

“You must find that out for yourself, when the time comes.”

“What do I say to the people, when I go back to Atyion? They're all expecting some great pronouncement from Illior, like the one given to Queen Ghërilain. But I
have nothing I'd want engraved in gold.” She shook her head. “A river of blood.”

Ralinus was quiet for a moment, then he leaned forward and placed a hand on her shoulder. “Blood is not only what's spilled but also what runs in your veins, Majesty. That same blood will live on in your children, as it lives in you, joining past and future. Is that not a river, too?

“Allow me to explain something very important to you. Lord Kirothieus, you are her good friend, so you must learn this as well, since she includes you in her confidence. What I tell you now, every priest of Illior knows. You, as queen, receive the revelations of the gods because you are strong and the chosen one. But what you reveal to your people should be no more, and no less, than what they would profit most by hearing.”

Tamír exchanged a startled look with Ki. “Are you saying I should lie to them?”

“No, Majesty. You will tell them that Illior has confirmed your right to the crown ‘by blood and trial.' You will warn them of the strife ahead, but you will also call upon them to lend you their strength to do the Lightbearer's will.”

“And they don't need to know that I'm haunted by my dead brother?”

“That is no secret, Majesty. It is swiftly becoming a legend among the people, that you have a guardian spirit.”

“A demon,” Ki corrected.

The priest raised an eyebrow at him. “And what would it profit the people, to think their queen accursed? Let them weave your story for you, Tamír.”

Tamír let go of Ki's hand and rose. “Thank you, honored one. You've helped me see more clearly.”

“It is customary for the high priest to commit a vision to a scroll for you to carry back. I will have it ready for you in the morning.”

As Ki walked out into the square with her he could tell that Tamír was still deeply troubled. She stood a long time
by the spring, lost in thought. Ki waited silently, arms folded against the chill. The stars were so bright here that there were shadows on the ground.

“What do you make of it?” she asked at last.

“A worthy warrior knows the difference between good and evil, honor and dishonor.” He stepped closer and carefully laid his hands on her shoulders. She didn't look up, but she didn't pull away, either. “You're the kindest, most honorable person I know. If Korin is too blind to see that, then it's his own weakness showing again. If you are Skala, then that's a good thing for everyone.”

She sighed and covered one of his hands with her own. Her fingers were very cold.

Ki unclasped the brooch at his throat and draped his cloak around her shoulders, over her own.

Tamír gave him a wry smile. “You're as bad as Nari.”

“She's not here, so it's up to me to look after you.” He chafed her arms to warm her. “There, that's better.”

She pulled away and just stood there, eyes downcast. “You—that is—I appreciate—” She faltered to a halt, and he suspected she was blushing.

There'd been too many of these moments of sudden shyness between them these past few months. She needed him. Not caring who might see, Ki pulled her into a rough hug.

Her cheek was cold and smooth against his. He tightened the embrace, wishing he could give her his warmth. It felt good, holding his friend like this again. Her hair was softer than he remembered, under his hand.

Tamír sighed and wrapped her arms around his waist. His heart swelled and tears stung his eyes. Swallowing hard, he whispered, “I'll always be here for you, Tob.”

He'd hardly realized his mistake before she jerked away and strode back toward the guesthouse.

“Tamír, Tamír, I'm sorry. I forgot! It doesn't mean anything. Come back!”

The door slammed firmly behind her, leaving him
there in the cold starlight, confused by feelings he wasn't ready to claim and calling himself nine kinds of fool.

A
n ominous feeling weighed on Arkoniel's heart as he and Iya sat waiting in Tamír's little chamber. Iya would say nothing, and he was left to unhappy imaginings.

When she came in at last, the look on her face made his heart sink even further. Tamír glanced at Iya, then crossed her arms and fixed a hard look on Arkoniel. “I want you to tell me what really happened to my brother. What made him the way he is?”

And there it was, the question he'd dreaded for so long. Even before he opened his mouth, Arkoniel could feel the fragile new trust between them tearing like worn silk. How could he justify to her what had been done in the Lightbearer's name, when in his heart he'd never forgiven himself for his part in her misery?

Before he could find the words, a dank chill like marsh fog closed in around them. Brother appeared at Tamír's side, glaring at Iya. The demon looked very much as he had the few other times Arkoniel had seen him; a thin, evil, wraithlike mockery of Tobin, grown to young manhood. They looked much less alike now, and Arkoniel took strange comfort in that, though the anger in those eyes made them twins again.

“Well?” Tamír demanded. “If I am truly your queen, and not just a puppet you play with, then tell me the truth.”

Iya still said nothing.

Arkoniel felt as if a part of him was dying as he forced the words out. “Your infant brother was sacrificed to protect you.”

“Sacrificed? Murdered, you mean! That's why he became a demon?”

“Yes,” said Iya. “What has he told you?”

“Nothing, except that
you
would tell me, Arkoniel. And the Oracle showed me—” She turned slowly back to Iya.
“You. ‘Two children, one queen,' the Oracle said to you, and I saw the dead baby you held. You killed him!”

“I didn't take his life, but I was most certainly the instrument of his death. What you saw is what I was shown. You and your brother were still safe in your mother's womb then. But you were already the one ordained to save Skala. You had to be protected, especially from Niryn's magic. I could think of only one sure way to do that.”

Brother crept toward Iya, and Arkoniel was horrified by the dark joy on that unnatural face.

Tamír stayed the demon with a look. “What
did
you do, Iya?”

Iya met her gaze levelly. “I found Lhel. I know the kind of magic her kind practices. Only a witch could accomplish what had to be done. So I brought her to Ero and into your mother's house the night you were born. You were the firstborn, Tamír, and you were beautiful. Perfect. You would have grown into a strong, dark-haired girl with too much of your mother's looks ever to be hidden away from prying eyes. While you lay in your nurse's arms, Lhel brought your brother from your mother's womb. She meant to smother him before he drew breath. That's the secret, you see, the thing she knew how to do. If that little body had remained empty of breath, there would have been no killing and this abomination you call Brother would never have been. But there was an interruption, and you know the rest.” She shook her head sadly. “So it was necessary.”

Tamír was trembling. “By the Four! That room, at the top of the stairs. He tried to show me—”

Brother pressed close to Tamír and whispered, “Sister, our father stood by and watched.”