The Ciphers of Muirwood (Covenant of Muirwood #2)(95)
Lia looked at her with deep sadness, and Maia knew the answer before she spoke it. “I cannot.” She winced as she said the words. “The Scourge was bound by irrevocare sigil. Even if you were to destroy the Leering, the curse would still exist. Maia, Ereshkigal’s thirst for revenge will never be sated. She will always attempt to destroy us. In every world governed by Idumea, there are mastons and there are hetaera. And there are kishion who murder and men like the Victus who plot for power. Even if every last one of these evildoers were destroyed, others would rise up. This is a war that has been fought for millennia throughout the spinning weave of the heavens. And it will continue to be fought for all time.” She rested her hand on Maia’s shoulder. “If I could remove this from you, I would. Sometimes we suffer because of our own choices. And sometimes we suffer because of the choices of others. But suffering brings wisdom. Do not underestimate the Medium’s compassion for what we endure. Believe, Maia. It is your faith and strength that will inspire kingdoms yet born.”
It was not the answer she wished. But she was not surprised by it. Somehow, she had known she would have to endure the mark for the rest of her life. She knew that someday, if her life was lived in adherence to her maston oaths, she would be given a new body in Idumea, one free of the hetaera’s taint.
Glancing over at Colvin and Collier, she marveled at her husband’s willingness to endure the restrictions of her curse.
Lia looked over at her husband expectantly. “There are wonderful memories for us to revisit here. If you will excuse us, Colvin and I would like to walk the grounds a little longer.” As she walked over to Colvin, Collier bid his farewells to them both and joined Maia.
Maia watched thoughtfully as Lia and Colvin walked off together, heads bent low as they spoke and gazed at the sunlit grounds. The depth of their friendship, their love, and their bond was obvious. It had not always been that way, she realized with a spark of hope. Perhaps she and Collier would one day share an equally strong bond.
“You were gone longer than you suggested,” Collier said, folding his arms, also staring after the two as they wandered away.
“I am sorry.”
“I am glad. Colvin and I had a good talk.”
“About swords?” Maia teased, trying to lighten her own mood from the heavy oppression of her conversation with Lia.
“About stones,” Collier replied. “He is a wise man.”
“Tell me,” Maia said briskly, linking arms with him and starting toward the Cider Orchard. She was hungry for another apple.
“I asked him when he knew the Medium was real. Is it something he learned from reading a tome? An experience that he had? His answer surprised me. It surprised me because I could relate to it.”
“Really?”
He nodded. “It was something his father taught him. Imagine a stone in a heath—one side facing the sky and the light, the underside facing the dirt with all its worms and insects. It takes effort to raise the stone enough to topple it over so that the underside faces the sky. It takes effort up to a point, and then the slightest touch will topple it. Does that make sense?”
“Yes, I envision that.”
“When Colvin was a child, he was like the stone facing the sky. He grew up believing in the Medium, and he enjoyed the signs and wonders of it. When his mother died giving birth to his sister, it was as if some great force had upended him, and he found himself facedown in the muck, unable to see or experience what he had before. All was darkness, doubt, and despair. It changed so quickly. He could not access the Medium because of his attitude. If he had retained that attitude, he would have never felt the Medium again. But by applying himself, by reading the tomes and studying, he began to lift himself up until he reached the tipping point again. And then everything from the past returned to him.” He stopped and turned to face her, their arms still linked. “That is how it felt for me, like it all came rushing back to my memory. Things I had forgotten long ago.” He looked dazed. “It is all back again in a rush. There are things I did, Maia . . .” He stopped, swallowing. “When I believed the mastons were lying, I did things I now regret. But I no longer feel enmity for the beliefs. I must repair . . . maybe that is not the right word, but I know of no other. I must repair the harm I did. I plan to ask the Aldermaston and Sabine what I can do to correct things. But for the first time in my life, I feel it is possible to hope.”
He stared at the afternoon sky, his countenance different than she had ever seen it. He looked more serene and infinitely more handsome to her than when she had first met him.
We must never give up what we most want in life for something we think we want now. All things received begin with a thought. Therefore, we must be cautious what we allow ourselves to think.
—Richard Syon, Aldermaston of Muirwood Abbey
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
Whitsunday
Suzenne had let Maia wear one of her fancier dresses for the Whitsunday celebration, and they walked arm in arm to the abbey gates leading to the green. The sun was just setting, though the village of Muirwood was aglow, and not just from the hanging lanterns. The abbey itself radiated peaceful, iridescent light from its many Leerings. In the distance, the tower on the Tor could barely be seen above the trees, and the few fleecy clouds did little to mask the striated orange and pink of the sky.