Shadow War: Ruby Throne - Book Two by Deborah Chester

Shadow War: Ruby Throne - Book Two by Deborah Chester

Author:Deborah Chester
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Diversion Books
Published: 2015-02-06T00:00:00+00:00


Chapter Ten

In the honeycomb of chambers beneath the temple of the Penestricans, the night had passed and dawn lay near. The candles were burning low with tired flickers. The chanting had stopped hours ago. All was silent, and in that silence anxiety stretched so strong it nearly became a sound itself.

The Lady Elandra lay on a slab of stone, straight and stiff, with her hands folded across her stomach. Robed in simple white, her unbound hair spread out beneath her, she remained unconscious and still. Her breathing was so slight she might have been dead. Her pale face was drawn, and a frown knotted her brows.

On one side of her stood two of the sisters, looking frightened and anxious. On the other side stood Anas, almost as pale as Elandra. And at Elandra’s feet stood the Magria, her old face very grim indeed.

With angry eyes, she swept the faces of the others. “This has been badly handled from the start,” she said, her gaze stopping on Anas. “I told you to be kind to her. Have you grown so efficient, so cold, so brutal, Anas, that you have forgotten how to be gentle? Have you forgotten the meaning of kindness?”

Anas looked mulish and upset. “You blame me for this?”

Denial was always a clumsy line of defense. It showed how rattled Anas was.

“You pushed her into the memories,” the Magria said. “You pushed her too far.”

“The memories are an important part of the cleansing process,” Anas said half angrily, defending herself like a child. “I did not know she would go past them. We screened her before, when she was with us. She exhibited no abilities to have visions then.”

“But she has had one now,” the Magria said. She sighed, feeling every year of her age. It had taken all her strength to pull Elandra back. Even now, as she thought of what she had seen through Elandra’s vision, she shuddered. It was fearsome indeed, as clear and vivid as any of Magria’s own visions, and all too likely to come true.

“The child was not prepared for this. She has had no training. She could not protect herself.”

“But you brought her back,” Anas said, insisting as though she wanted comfort.

But there was no comfort to be handed out. The Magria looked at her deputy unsparingly. “Yes,” she said. “But whether she has returned with her reason intact is something we do not yet know. Whether she can survive the shock is another question beyond it.”

“The coronation is in three hours,” Anas said. “The guard of escort is already waiting outside the temple.”

“Do not speak to me of time!” the Magria snapped. “Do you think I can simply put my hand on her forehead and revive her to her senses? Do you think she is likely to recover in time to be crowned?”

“But—”

“I told you not to do this, and you disobeyed me,” the Magria said, too angry now to soften her tone.

“The purification ceremony must be difficult—”

“Why? The girl did not require it.



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