The Abbot’s voice trailed off as a sudden thought occurred to him.
“Paladine…” he murmured.
“You are thinking of Valthonis,” said Rhys, hope rising in him. “Do you believe he might know the way, Holiness?”
“When Paladine sacrificed himself to maintain the balance, he took on the heavy burden of mortality,” the Abbot replied. “He no longer has godly powers. His mind is that of a mortal, yet he is a mortal who was once a god and that makes him wiser than most of us. If there is anyone on Krynn who might be able to guide you and Mina to Gods-home, yes, it would be the Walking God.”
“Valthonis is known as the Walking God because he is never stays in one place for long. Who knows where he is to be found?”
“As a matter of fact,” said the Abbot, “I do. Several of our priests have chosen to travel with Valthonis, as do many others. When our brothers chance to meet any of our Order, they send reports back to me. I heard from one only last week, saying Valthonis and his followers were on their way to Neraka.”
Rhys stood up, energized, renewed. “Thank you, Holiness. I am not sure I should be encouraging Mina to use her miraculous powers, but in this instance I believe I could make an exception. We could be in Neraka by nightfall—”
“You are still a very impetuous man, Brother Rhys,” the Abbot remarked with gentle reproof. “Have you forgotten your history lesson of the War of Souls, Brother?”
This was the second time Rhys had been asked about history lessons. He couldn’t think what the Abbot meant.
“I am afraid I do not understand, Holiness…”
“At the end of the War, when the gods had recovered the world and discovered Takhisis’ great crime, they judged that she should be made mortal. To maintain the balance, in order that the Gods of Light would equal the number of Gods of Darkness, Paladine sacrificed himself, became mortal as well. As he looked on, the elf Silvanoshei killed Takhisis. She died in Mina’s arms, and Mina blamed Paladine for the downfall of her Queen. Holding the body of her queen, Mina vowed to kill Valthonis.”
Rhys sank back down into the chair, his hopes dashed. “You are right, Holiness. I had forgotten.”
“The Walking God has elven warriors to protect him,” the Abbot suggested.
“Mina could kill an army with a stamp of her foot,” said Rhys. “This is bitter irony! The one person who can give Mina what she most wants in this world is the one person in this world she has sworn to kill.”
“You say that in the form of a child she does not seem to remember her past. She did not recognize the Lord of Death. Perhaps she would not recognize Valthonis.”
“Perhaps,” said Rhys. He was thinking of the tower, of the Beloved, and how Mina, forced to confront them, had been forced to confront herself. “The question is: do we risk the life of Valthonis on the chance that she might not remember him?
“From all I have heard, Valthonis is honored and loved wherever he goes. He has done much good in the world. He has negotiated peace between nations who were at war. He has given hope to those in despair. Though his countenance is no longer the radiant brilliance of the god’s, he yet brings light to mankind’s darkness. Do we risk destroying a person of such value?”
“Mina is the child of the Gods of Light,” said the Abbot, “born in joy at the moment of creation. Now she is lost and frightened. Would not any parent be glad to find his lost child and bring her home, even though her recovery came at the cost of his own life? There is a risk, Brother, but I believe it is one that Valthonis would be willing to take.”
Rhys shook his head. He was not certain. There was a chance he could find Godshome on his own. Others had done so. True, Tanis Half-elven had been traveling in the company of a god, but, then, so was Rhys.
He was trying to think how he could explain his doubts when he saw the Abbot’s gaze shift to the door, where one of the priests of Majere stood silently in the entrance, waiting patiently to catch the Abbot’s attention.
“Holiness,” said the priest, bowing, “forgive me for disturbing you, but two guests are here asking for Brother Rhys. One is a kender, and he seems most eager to speak to our brother.”
“Our business is finished, isn’t it, Brother?” said the Abbot, rising. “Or is there anything more I can do for you?”
“You have given me all that I required and far more, Holiness,” said Rhys earnestly. “I ask now only your blessing for the difficult road that lies ahead.”
“With all my heart, Brother,” said the Abbot. “You have Majere’s blessing and my own. Will you seek out Valthonis?” he asked, as Rhys was about to depart.
“I do not know, Holiness,” said Rhys. “I have two lives to consider—that of Valthonis and that of Mina. I fear the consequences of such a meeting would be terrible for both.”
“The choice is yours, Brother,” said the Abbot gravely, “but I remind you of the old saying, ‘If fear is your guide, you will never leave your house.’”
6
Nightshade and Mina and Atta were welcomed into the Temple of Majere by one of the priests, who greeted them with grave courtesy. Every visitor to Majere’s temple was met with courtesy, no one was ever turned away. All the priests asked was that the guests speak in quiet tones, so as not to disturb the meditations of the faithful. The priests themselves spoke in soft, hushed voices. Any visitors who were loud or disruptive were asked politely to leave. There were rarely any problems, for such was the wondrous serenity of the temple that all who entered felt a sense of tranquility.
Even kender were welcome, which pleased Nightshade.
“Kender are welcome in so few places,” he told the priest.
“Do you require anything?” the priest asked.
“Just our friend, Rhys,” Nightshade answered. “We’re supposed to meet him here.” He cast a sidelong glance at Mina and said in meaningful tones, “If you could ask him to hurry, I’d appreciate it.”
“Brother Rhys is meeting with the his Holiness,” said the priest. “I will tell him you are here. In the meantime, can I offer you food or drink?”
“No, thank you, Brother, I just had breakfast. Well, maybe I could eat a little something,” Nightshade replied.
Mina mutely shook her head. She seemed suddenly shy, for she stood with her head ducked, stealing glimpses of her surroundings from beneath lowered eyelids. She was clean, brushed, and neatly dressed in a pretty gown with mother-of-pearl buttons up the back and long, tight-fitting sleeves. She looked the very image of the demure merchant’s daughter, though she did not act the part. Her antics at the Inn and then on the way to the temple had nearly driven poor Nightshade to distraction.
Mina had grown bored making bread and Laura had sent her out to play. Once out of the Inn, she dodged around the guards and dashed up the stairs to the tree level, forcing Nightshade and a couple of guards to chase her down. When they were back on the ground and on their way again, Mina started stepping on the kender’s heels trying to trip him, and stuck out her tongue at him when he scolded her.
Soon growing tried of teasing Nightshade, she had teased Atta, pulling on her tail and tugging at her ears, until the dog had lost her patience and snapped at her. The dog’s teeth did not so much as break the skin, but Mina had shrieked as though she were being mauled by wolves, causing everyone in the street to stop and stare. She swiped an apple from a cart, then blamed it on Nightshade, bringing retribution from an old lady who was surprisingly spry for her age and had amazingly sharp knuckles. Nightshade was still rubbing his aching head from that encounter. By the time they reached the temple, he was worn out and could hardly wait to hand Mina over to Rhys.
The monk took them to a part of the temple known as a loggia—a kind of indoor outdoor garden, as Nightshade termed it. The loggia was long and narrow in shape, lined with stone columns allowing fresh air and sunlight to flow into the room. In the center of the loggia was a fountain made of polished stone, from which trickled clear water that had a most soothing sound. Stone benches were placed around the fountain.