:There are conditions, Chaia added. You must not seek to rule a land or people for yourself. If you set yourself against us or the White, or our work, or if you ally yourself with our enemies, you will be regarded as our enemy.
“That is reasonable. I accept your conditions.”
:Remove the ring.
Auraya’s heart lurched again. She held out her hand, then slowly drew the white ring off her finger. Standing up, she turned to face Chaia.
“Serving you has been the greatest joy and honor, but it is clear you need someone in this position more worthy of it. I do not wish to turn from you. You still have my respect and love, and I will continue to serve you as a priestess if that is acceptable to you.”
Chaia looked at Huan.
:That, as always, will be a decision for the White to make, he said.
Huan’s eyes narrowed slightly. Auraya glanced at Juran, then looked down at the ring. Taking a deep breath, she placed it on the table. She felt nothing - no wrenching loss, no change at all. Taking a step back, she straightened and looked up at Juran again.
He regarded the ring with a grim expression. Well he should, she thought. The White are vulnerable without a fifth member. But I’m sure the gods won’t leave them so for long. I doubt they’ll wait another twenty-five years to replace me.
She looked at Mainte. To her surprise, the young woman smiled and nodded. There was a friendly respect in her eyes. She doubted the other White felt the same. Dyara and Rian were sure to be watching through Juran and Mairae. Dyara will be disappointed, Auraya thought. Rian, however, will be overjoyed.
:Your decision cannot be reversed, Huan said. However, there is no need for you to remain in Jarime. You may return to Si.
Auraya nodded and made the formal sign of the circle. “Thank you.”
The gods vanished.
Auraya paused, uncertain what to do or say next. Juran was still staring at the ring. Slowly he reached out and picked it up. His eyes rose to hers.
“You sacrificed everything for the Siyee,” he stated.
She smiled. “Yes.” She thought of Mirar’s belief that her Gift of flight was her own.
“But maybe not everything,” Mairae said.
Auraya looked at the woman in surprise.
“I can read your mind now,” Mairae explained.
“Of course.” Auraya shook her head. “I didn’t think of that.”
“Well, are you going to try to fly?”
Auraya looked at Mairae, then focused her mind on her sense of her position in the world. She could still feel it. Drawing magic, she lifted herself upward. Mairae gave a laugh of triumph.
“Yes! You can still help the Siyee.”
Relief rushed through Auraya and she found herself grinning. “I can reach them. All I have to find out now is whether I can still heal them.”
“Then I guess you will be leaving as soon as possible,” Juran said. He looked tired. Auraya dropped to the ground again.
“Yes. I only need to pick up Mischief and a few belongings.”
He nodded, then stood up. “Take care of yourself, Auraya. I don’t need to tell you to avoid Pentadrian sorcerers. I... I must consult the others before deciding if you may remain a priestess.”
“I understand.”
“Drop by now and then, so we can catch up,” Mairae added.
Auraya smiled. “You must both come to Si some time. Perhaps you could sail to the coast. I think you’d like it there.”
Mairae looked at Juran. “We should make the effort.”
He nodded, then led the way down the Altar to the Dome’s floor. “We should. And it may be of great advantage to us to have a priestess living in Si who can reach us quickly.”
Auraya looked at him sideways. “I would like to continue working with you, too, Juran of the White.”
He looked at her, then for the first time since she had returned, he smiled.
Her boat was just where she had left it. Emerahl turned to Surim and Tamun.
“Thank you for your hospitality,” she said.
Tamun smiled and opened her arms wide. To Emerahl’s surprise, the normally reserved woman stepped forward and embraced her.
“I should be thanking you for coming here and giving me someone to talk to.”
“Other than me,” Surim added.
“You’re not such bad company yourselves,” Emerahl said.
As Tamun stepped back, Surim gave Emerahl a hug, squeezing the breath out of her.
“Take care of yourself, Old Hag.”
“You take care of each other.”
“Oh, we’re good at that. We’ve always looked after each other.”
“For better or worse,” Tamun added. Then she cleared her throat. “That’s enough, brother.” Surim released Emerahl and stepped back, grinning.
“But it’s been so long since I had another woman in my arms.”
Tamun made a low noise. “A few weeks, from what I recall.”
“A few weeks is a long time.” He looked thoughtful. “Hmmm, and I think it’s probably time I did another trip downstream.”
“That swamp girl takes too much of your attention,” Tamun said disapprovingly.
“She’s a little old to be called a girl, though I’m sure she’d be flattered by it.”
Tamun made a low noise, but said nothing. She handed Emerahl a bag - the one Emerahl had been watching her making.
“This contains food and clean water, and those local cures we talked about.”
“Thank you.”
“We’ll try to contact you every night,” Surim told her. “In dreams.”
“And I will contact you if I learn anything new.”
They both nodded. Surim frowned. “We would go ourselves, but you know the world that exists now much better than we do. Though we skim the minds of mortals every day, we cannot be sure what we have learned will enable us to survive.”
“And if we did go, we ought to separate.” Surim didn’t say how much they didn’t want to. He didn’t have to. His normally bright voice was strained.
“We will be of better use skimming minds and feeding what we learn to another.”
Emerahl smiled and raised her hands. “Stop it. I understand your reluctance. I want to do this. Even if we don’t find a way to kill the gods, knowing more about them - especially their limitations - is always a worthwhile pursuit.”
“It’s your quest,” Surim said, chuckling. “That’s what The Seer would have called it, anyway.”
Emerahl laughed. “She would have called it ‘The Quest for the Scroll of the Gods.’ ”
Tamun nodded. “And she would have written some appalling poetry and called it ‘prophecy.’ A green-eyed sprite will find the scroll; save the world and everyone’s soul.”
“Stop. Please.” Still chuckling, Emerahl turned to the boat. She unwound the mooring line from the pottery urn and stepped aboard. At once the vessel began to drift away from the ledge and The Twins.
“The current will take you out,” Surim called.
“Good luck,” Tamun added.
Emerahl set down the bag and looked over her shoulder. Already the current had taken her halfway across the cavern. The brother and sister waved. She raised a hand in reply.
Then, as her boat reached the cave entrances on the other side, she turned to the front and guided it into the main tunnel.
She chuckled to herself. The Quest for the Scroll of the Gods has begun.
Nothing had been said since they had left the island. Nothing could be said, since they swam the whole way with only a few short rests. When Imi had begun to lag behind, warriors had caught her hands and pulled her along, which would have been fun if everyone hadn’t been so serious.