(eng) Liz Williams by The Ghost Sister (retail)

Author:The Ghost Sister (retail) [Sister, The Ghost]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

6. Eleres

I left the ghost sitting on the step and went inside. I did not know what to make of the meeting, and the thought of Mevennen in the hands of ghosts, or whatever they were, filled me with terror. I think I knew then that the hearing would not go as smoothly as I had hoped, though I did not suspect quite how bad it would be.

The house was filled with a tense anticipation. I received punctilious morning courtesies from those I met on the way to the stoveroom, but nothing more until I encountered Jheru. This morning, he was dressed in overlapping blue robes which lent bulk without disguising his sinuous grace of movement. His aquamarine eyes were deep as well water, and guileless. He appeared genuinely pleased to see me, I saw with a lift of the spirits, which sobered only when I reminded myself why we were here. Sounds came from the open door of the stoveroom.

“There is only tea, and water,” Jheru informed me apologetically. “You understand that a fast is imposed until … ?”

Until the matter was settled.

I gestured assent.

“I'd like some more tea, if I may,” I said, and he took my cup and went with it into the stoveroom to refill it. As I waited, Pera Cathra emerged from some errand in the stoveroom. She peered at me and then, very much to my surprise, gave me a chilly formal bow, which I returned. When I raised my eyes, she moved on into the labyrinth of rooms behind the main hall.Jheru reappeared. “Hessan has asked me to explain the order of the day to you. He himself has gone to speak to sereth.The claim hearing meets shortly, she knows all about this. Then, we'll all go up to the funeral ground. The child's birth took place at a particular configuration of the moons; she must be sent into the fire accordingly. Time is a little short, and the satahrach deemed it inadvisable to wait.”

“We'll do whatever has to be done.”

The claim hearing was held in a small room close to the main gate. Sereth and myself, led by Hessan and Jheru, were met at the door by a man in the mask of Temethai: the sign of the First Gate of the gap between the worlds. The left half of the mask was blue, to denote sorrow, the right half was green, to indicate inevitability. The esedrada, the ritual speech of passage, was begun and we responded appropriately, but it was left unfinished, since this was not the true passage of death but only reparation. The satahrachin say that the recitation of the esedrada brings one's own death closer, turns the implacable attention of the Gate upon oneself and reminds the world of its own powers. I used not to believe that this was so.

Once ritual and response were given, a hand brought the mask down and turned it deftly inside out. Now, it was a smooth face, the color of stone, the Second Gate.

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