As ready as I’ll ever be, she told herself. All I can do is try to keep any less pleasant consequences as small as possible.
She straightened as she reached the heavy wooden doors. Grasping the handles, she pulled them inward. They parted and swung open with a satisfyingly impressive creak. Auraya smiled at the woman in Dreamweaver robes standing behind them.
Raeli, Dreamweaver Adviser to the White, gave Auraya a wary look. She had never made any attempt to hide her distrust of the White, but had always been cooperative. Auraya read from the woman’s mind that this strange meeting place had sparked both curiosity and wariness in the woman.
“Come in, Dreamweaver Adviser Raeli,” Auraya said, beckoning.
“Thank you, Auraya of the White,” Raeli replied. As she stepped inside her eyes moved around, taking in the storeroom’s hall and the corridor that led away. “Why have you brought me here?”
Auraya chuckled. “You come straight to the point. I like that about you.”
She indicated that Raeli should follow her, then, without waiting to see if she did, started walking slowly down the corridor. “Jarime is a large city and is growing ever larger. Until now the sick had to visit the Temple or send someone there to collect a healer priest when they needed the help of Circlian healers.” She glanced over her shoulder and was pleased to see that Raeli was following. Slowing so that the Dreamweaver caught up, she gestured at the empty rooms. “It is a long journey for some. To alleviate that problem, we are going to turn this place into a hospice.”
Raeli considered this news. It is a good idea, she thought. It is about time the Circlians took better care of the poor living in this district. The distance to the Temple is a problem that some people overcome by consulting us Dreamweavers instead... Are the Circlians trying to take our custom away? Why has Auraya invited me here to tell me this? Her plans must involve Dreamweavers. At once Raeli felt a rising suspicion.
“What do you want of us?” she blurted.
Auraya stopped at the entrance to the room that smelled of leather and turned to face the Dreamweaver. “To invite your people to join us. Dreamweavers and healer priests working together. I’d say it was for the first time, but it has happened before.”
Raeli frowned. “When?”
“After the battle.”
The Dreamweaver stared at Auraya. So they admit we were useful, she thought. It would be nice if they thanked us. Or we got some kind of acknowledgment for our work... but I suppose this is an acknowledgment. Her skepticism faltered for a moment and she felt a small thrill of hope.
Auraya looked away. “Of course, it might not work. Several healer priests have volunteered to work here with you, but they may find they are less tolerant and open-minded than they believe. The sick who come here might not accept your help. I doubt we will overcome more than a century of prejudice in a few weeks, months or even years. But,” she shrugged, “we can only try.”
The Dreamweaver moved into the opposite room, her nose wrinkling at whatever smell lingered there.
“I can’t answer for my people. It is a decision for the Elder.”
“Of course.”
Raeli glanced back. “This place will need a good clean.”
Auraya smiled ruefully. “Some rooms more than others. Would you like to have a look around?” She saw the answer in Raeli’s mind. “Come then. I’ll show you - and tell you my plans for modifications. I’d like your opinion on how we should change the water supply system.”
This time, as she continued down the corridor, Raeli walked beside her. Auraya described how both cold and heated water could be piped through the building. Each room would be fitted with a drain to allow for easy cleaning. There were operating rooms for surgery, and storerooms for medicines and tools. Raeli made simple suggestions in a quiet voice and thought frequently of older, more experienced Dreamweavers who could give better advice.
When they had explored every room they returned to the main hall. Raeli was quiet and thoughtful, musing that she had always laughed at the title of Dreamweaver Adviser because she didn’t believe the White would ever listen to her advice. Then suddenly she looked up at Auraya.
“Have you heard from Leiard?”
Auraya felt a jolt inside. She stared at Raeli in surprise.
“No,” she forced herself to answer. “You?”
Raeli shook her head. Scanning the woman’s thoughts, Auraya understood that Leiard had not just disappeared from her own life. No Dreamweavers had seen him since the battle. The Dreamweaver Elder, Arleej, was concerned about him and had asked all Dreamweavers to report to her if he was seen.
She felt a stab of worry and guilt. Had he fled everything and everyone out of fear that Juran or the gods would punish him for daring to be her lover? Or was he simply obeying Juran’s orders? But Juran had said he had ordered Leiard to leave, not to disappear completely.
He didn’t order Leiard to sleep with a whore, either, she reminded herself. She started toward the hallway and Raeli followed. He must have known I’d read his mind the next time I saw him - whenever that might be - and see his infidelity.
But he had decided the affair was over, so he wasn’t actually being disloyal, she reminded herself. That might have been forgivable if we’d been parted for a time, but we’d been separated for only a day. She smothered a sigh. Stop thinking about it, she told herself. It will get you nowhere.
Opening the doors, Auraya stepped out into the sunlight. Two platten waited in front: the hired one that had brought Raeli, and the gold and white one that Auraya had travelled in. She turned to Raeli.
“Thank you for coming, Dreamweaver Adviser Raeli.”
Raeli inclined her head slightly. “It was my pleasure, Auraya of the White. I will pass on your proposal to Dreamweaver Arleej.”
Auraya nodded. She watched as Raeli climbed into the platten. As the vehicle trundled away a sound came to mind: the creak of a spring as an animal trap was set. I am like a hunter, she thought. Knowing I need to set my traps for the good of others, but not liking it much.
Holding a bucket out to the waterfall, Emerahl let it fill. Even with the vessel just touching the fall, the flow was strong enough to make her arm ache.
She had spent most of the last few days making the cave a more comfortable home. Felling a small tree, she had cut it up and bound lengths of wood together to make two simple beds and a screen behind which she and Mirar could attend to private matters. For those private matters, as well as for holding drinking water and other tasks, she had carved several wooden buckets out of sections of the trunk.
Since Mirar must remain inside the void, the fetching of water and gathering of food was her responsibility - but not one she minded. The forest was a bountiful place, full of edible plants, animals and fungi. Little had changed since she had last stayed here. Without magic and hundreds of years of accumulated knowledge, surviving would have been more difficult. And dangerous, too.
As many plants in the forest were poisonous as not. She had seen several beautiful venomous insects, but they lurked in nooks and holes that only a fool might stick his or her hands in. The larger predatory animals, like leramers or vorns, might have been a problem if she hadn’t had magic to fend them off. She was alert to the beguiling effects of sleepvine, which used a telepathic call to lull animals into resting on its carpet of soft leaves, while slowly winding its limbs around them in a hold that eventually strangled and dismembered. Long ago she had met a plant breeder who had made himself rich selling a weaker dwarf variety to lords and ladies who had trouble sleeping.