Cara disappears outside, and I sit on my cot to wait for her return.
A scant twenty minutes pass before I get bored. I decide to explore the temple in the meantime. Besides, how much trouble can I get in at a temple? As long as I don’t touch anything sacred, I should be fine.
I clasp my hands behind my back and wander down the hall. Music drifts from a nearby room. When I peek in, I spot a trio of priests playing songs. The lack of silence surprises me. Where I grew up, temples were quiet. Peaceful. This borders on boisterous. Raucous, almost. I hurry past and turn down another hall.
The ceiling angles upward until I pass through a high arch into the main worship hall. Rows of heavy wooden pews line either side of a long aisle, and at the other end stands a raised dais. Large stained-glass windows on the east, west, and south sides of the room cast eerie shadows where the light streams in. My guesstimate puts the time at roughly midday. I hadn’t realized I’d slept so late, but then again the healers’ ward is lit by candles, not windows. It really could have been any time of day, and I’d be none the wiser. In the far corner, an organist plays a solemn melody. Not as upbeat as the music down the hall, but nice. Sweet, almost.
I amble up the carpeted path to the dais and inspect the carvings on the podium. Some depict what appear to be massive battles, while others show people kneeling in prayer. In every single carving, long rays of light beam down from clear skies.
In what appears to be the newest carving—judging from the fresher markings with less wear on them—an infant sits in a clearing, bathed in solar light.
Cara.
Chapter 9
Sable
I shouldn’t be surprised to see her there. I’m familiar with the stories of her discovery, after all. Abandoned as a pup, she was found lighting fires with nothing more than her will and brought to the nearest temple for confirmation of her God-given gifts. Whether her birth parents died or left her to fend for herself is unclear. Having met her, I find it hard to believe that anyone would willingly give her up, and she seems almost universally loved by her people.
My upbringing could not have been more different. From what I was told by the nuns who raised me, I was dumped at the door of the convent during a fierce winter storm when I was not yet weaned. My own gifts didn’t surface for many years, and when they did, the beatings increased. I rarely use my gifts at home, preferring to keep my hide intact.
I lean in closer to get a better look at the detail in the carving. A thin layer of dust partially obscures a bit of writing beneath it, and I reach out to wipe it away.
“Hey! What are you doing in here?”
The sudden shout startles me, and I shriek. I whirl around to see who’s yelling, and Nani the flame-haired priestess scowls at me from across the room.
Busted.
“Oh! Apologies, your excellency. I was just admiring the carvings on this podium. Very intricate.”
She puts her hands on her plump hips. “Admire with your eyes, not your hands.”
My cheeks burn with embarrassment. “Yes, excellency. I’m sorry. I was just going to wipe off this dust here.” I move to point at the spot but think better of it and just nod at it instead. “Here. I wanted to read the writing.”
Nani scoffs and stomps down the aisle to push past me. “I thought you were a religious scholar. Everyone knows what it says. No point in touching it.”
Except Idon’tknow what it says. Not really. “I was just curious if your translations were the same as ours back home. I’ve found that sometimes there are slight variations.” I swallow hard, hoping my story holds up.
“What possible variations could there be? ‘By the Light of the Sun, the babe shall be found, and by His Light shall she reign.’ There’s really very little interpretation to be had.”
At the risk of digging myself into an even deeper hole, I press on. “Ah, but our texts end with ‘and by His Light shalltheyreign.’ It’s curious, but, when you consider that the original Solari texts havemhiand notmhii, makes more sense. An easy enough mistake to make.”
When I glance back at her, I realize I screwed up. Her face now is redder even than her hair, and I can almost imagine I see steam coming out of her ears. I brace myself for the inevitable barrage of fists.
Before she can haul off and smack me for my insolence, we’re thankfully interrupted by Cara’s voice calling my name.
“Here!” I shout back. “I’m in here, by the dais!”
Cara trots down the aisle towards us, and I let out a sigh of relief. Surely Nani won’t hit me now that there’s a witness.
At least, I hope she won’t.
“There you are!” She beams at me and rushes up to take my hand. “Come on. I found a sturdy mare to hurry us to the palace.”
Nani scoffs. “Better hurry her to the High Priest at the palace, so she can take a remedial translation course.” She mutters it under her breath, but Cara’s head whips around so fast her flying hair stings my cheek.
“Did I just hear you insult a guest of the heir?” She grits her teeth, and I see the start of a shift in her elongated canids.
