The Dark Mirror by Juliet Marillier

Author:Juliet Marillier
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Tom Doherty Associates
Published: 2004-09-21T16:00:00+00:00

WELL,” SAID FOLA, “YOU’RE here at last. You’re such a small thing, it’s hard to believe you’re in your fourteenth year, but Broichan tells me its so. Welcome to Banmerren, child.”

“Thank you, my lady.” Tuala was trying very hard to sound calm. It had been difficult coming into this strange, stone-walled compound, with girls everywhere looking at her in amazement, and even more difficult hearing her presence announced by the intimidating ?reseida, who had entered Fola’s sanctum first “We’ve brought that strange child from Pitnochie.” Now Ferada and her mother were both gone, escorted away to see the section of Banmerren where the daughters of noble blood were lodged, those who did not require the more esoteric parts of the education offered here. Tuala stood before the wise woman with only one other in attendance, a brusque person of middle years who had given her name as Kethra. For all her misery, Tuala was struck by the quiet of the place, the mellow stone of the buildings, the little figures set in niches here and there, each different, each surprising, the hanging garlands of herbs and the curiously wrought lamps.

“You may call me Fola. We don’t stand on ceremony here; all are equal under the gaze of the Shining One. Are you happy to be here, Tuala?”

This difficult question had come out of nowhere. “I’m grateful for the opportunity, my la—Fola.” It felt odd to be addressing the wise woman thus as if she were a familiar friend. Small as she was, Fola looked grander and more imposing than Tuala had remembered her: her hair, unhooded, revealed itself as silver-gray and long, coiled up in a heavy bundle at the back of her head, and around her neck, over the soft gray robe, she wore a moon disc clasped by a clawlike silver setting and suspended on a fine chain. Fola’s eyes were as before, of a darkly assessing intensity. Her smile was warm. Behind her, on a stone shelf, was curled a pitch-black cat of enormous size; its tattered ears and scarred visage seemed the equivalent of a warrior’s tattooed features. It watched Tuala through half-closed yellow eyes.

“But?” Fola queried.

Tuala looked straight at her. “I’ll work very hard,” she said, “and learn all I can. I owe that to you for being prepared to have me here. I owe it to those who have taught me before.”

“You’re not being quite honest with me, child,” Fola said. “I know you’ll work hard. Those who are not prepared to do so find their stay at Banmerren short. Kethra can vouch for that.” She glanced at the other woman, who stood to the side, hands folded before her, and Kethra’s lips twitched in something that did not seem much like a smile. “Tell me, Tuala. If there’s a reservation of some sort in your mind, I need to know it now Here at Banmerren we are all servants of the Shining One. She commands our whole selves: body, heart, mind, and spirit.”

Tuala bowed her head.

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