The Ciphers of Muirwood (Covenant of Muirwood #2)(86)

The chaen would protect her from the Myriad Ones. She bowed her head, feeling so relieved to be wearing it at last. She thought suddenly of Collier and dearly hoped he would make good on his pledge and become a maston one day. Their marriage had not started off in the right way, but she desperately hoped they would at some point be bound by irrevocare sigil. He had seemed so affected by the Medium this night.

Maia sighed and stared at the stones set into the wall. The Medium drew her to one of them, so she approached and took it in her hand. It separated from the wall easily. She stared at the glowing white stone in her palm for a moment, absorbing the details of the intricate design carved into it. Letters appeared on the stone, written in a language she did not know.

Paix.

She stared at it and understood it through the whispers of the Medium. It was a simple word, a deep word, a word that described her deepest wish. Peace. It was a word that meant peace of conscience. Tranquility. Resolve. How strange that it was the one the Medium had chosen for her. She smiled and felt the stone burn her palm. The sensation made her flinch, but she managed to set it back down in the inlet rather than drop it. A pink mark showed on her palm, and she found herself smiling again, even though the hot stone had stung. Then she understood—it was a way of detecting other mastons, a way of knowing who was friend or foe.

Maia clasped her hands in front of her. The ritual was shorter than she had expected it to be. How long had she been in there? It did not feel long, but she would also not be surprised if the sun were just starting to rise. There was no sense of time in the chamber. No windows to show the sunlight or the fog.

Between two of the seven columns hung a veil. The columns next to it exuded power, and the eyes of the Leerings carved into them burned vividly. Maia summoned her courage and approached the Apse Veil. This was the moment for her to complete her special task, which she was unsure how to accomplish.

As she approached, she thought she could see the shadow of someone on the other side. Was it a mirror? Her mouth was dry with her nervousness, and the weariness from her long vigil suddenly weighed down on her. Yet the Medium caused a swelling sense of joy through her, which helped her stay alert.

Maia stood in front of the Apse Veil. She waited.

Nothing happened.

She did not panic. Instead she bowed her head, listening for the sound of the Medium’s whisper, waiting to be told what to do. She knew the Apse Veils were portals between worlds and not just between abbeys. Once they were opened, she would be able to pass between Muirwood and Comoros in an instant. It would allow her to visit any of the abbeys already finished in the other kingdoms. What a difference that would make in the political realities of her day, she realized. For that reason alone the Victus would fear the restoration of the Apse Veils.

Instead of hearing a whisper from the Medium, she heard a voice. A woman’s voice.

“Welcome. What do you seek?”

The voice sounded strangely familiar. Was it her grandmother speaking? It sounded like Sabine, but it was not her. There was a little formality to the voice.

“To become a maston,” Maia answered truthfully.

“What do you desire?”

She knew the answer immediately, and it spilled from her mouth. “I desire Idumea.”

“What is your name?” asked the woman. Who was she? Maia had no idea, but the idea gnawed at her. It could not be . . .

“Paix,” Maia replied softly, her stomach fluttering, her heart burning with fire. She felt as if something huge and heavy had been dropped, like an enormous stone slab, and the stones at her feet trembled with the reverberation. There was no sound, but she could feel the ripples of the impact. She stared at the Apse Veil, her eyes widening.

The shape behind the shroud was nearly her own height. Maia tried to make out the person’s features, but she was unable to distinguish anything beyond the approximate size.

An urge compelled her to reach inside the Apse Veil with her hand. Maia swallowed her doubts, thrust away her worries. She obeyed the impulse and plunged her hand through the gap in the curtain.

She felt a warm hand clasp her own. Maia squeezed and felt as if she should pull. That surprised her. She had thought she was supposed to pass through the Apse Veil herself. But again, although she did not understand why, she obeyed the impulse.

The Apse Veil parted, and a woman emerged wearing hunter leathers. Maia saw the blade belted to her waist, the cloak pinned with a brooch at her throat. And the face . . . it was like looking at her grandmother . . . almost a twin. Except her hair still had some gold in it and was not all gray. A thin tiara of gold was nestled in the curly stands.

Maia stared in disbelief, understanding striking her like a flood.

“Thank you,” Lia said, smiling at her warmly. “You are now a maston, Maia.”





CHAPTER THIRTY




Covenant Fulfilled



Maia’s heart leaped with surprise and confusion, and hope flooded her. Lia’s manner of dress was different than any she had seen. The stitching on her leathers and bracers was Pry-rian in style, but it did not resemble any of the styles Maia had seen when she lived on the Pry-rian border as a young girl.

Lia reached forward and took Maia’s hands, squeezing them with enthusiasm. Her smile was like the sunlight, and it warmed Maia’s heart. Then one of her hands grazed up to Maia’s hair and smoothed part of it away from her face.