“Make room,” she said, meriting a look of confusion.
Skyre said, “I've had them fetch the little tree fiend.”
“Really?” Greyv raised his brows. “Whatever for?”
“Why else? To baptize him in fire.”
Greyv flashed him a devious look.
“Here he comes now,” said Medhin.
Skyre glanced up the aisle as the druid was escorted down. His eyes betrayed little emotion and the Vaich wondered if woodwalkers felt anything at all. A twinge of amusement pulled at his lips as the smaller man was brought to stand beside him.
“It gladdens me to see you find culture this morning,” said Skyre. The druid didn’t look at him. “Consider yourself fortunate to be offered a place in my kirk.”
A chorus of chuckles rose from behind him, filling Skyre thick with pride.
“It is strange,” said the druid. “Amongst my folk,offerandcommandmean two different things.”
Skyre’s smirk twitched. “I cannae well abide a heathen under my roof.”
“It wasyouwho brought me here.”
Finally, the Vaich’s smile fell. Of course he couldn’t go against prophecy—to dare show his people they meant nothing. And theydidmean something.
At least… some of them did.
“Outof obligation,” Skyre muttered beneath his breath.
The druid simply sighed. “Hm.”
The Sun Matron shushed them as the high priest took his place at the pulpit. Everyone stood, hands clasped and silent. Othrik’s beady eyes found the druid quickly, but a shake of the Sun Matron’s head urged him not to pursue. Instead, the High Priest cleared his throat and began his sermon.
Skyre’s attention, however, remained otherwise engaged. “Behave yourself and dinnae get any ideas,” he warned quietly.
“I assure you,” said the druid, “I have none.”
“And stand straight!”
“I am plenty straight.”
Still, the druid did not look.
“It’s for your own good, ken,” Skyre said.
“Yes, youwouldenjoy to think so.”
“Smug little—”
“Shh!” Medhin hissed. “Listen!”
At the front of the nave, there was little privacy. Everything Skyre did would be in full view of his court. So, he trained his ears to Othrik’s lecture, as the priest spun a familiar story.
“On the day of the Crús Crúnach,when Æon’Righ crossed the heavens, he brought with him the golden sun. And from the flame that split the sky dripped embers which lit a thousand fires. These became the sacred flames that burn in every village of Cúil Cullach. For the wise men of the An’Atherin came forth and said—take the blood of the Sun into your home and feed your kiln and forge forever. Daub your skin with its ash and be clean in the eyes of God! A great many listened. Indeed, the Eternal Flames still burn today. Our skins still bear the scent. But others did not heed the words of their ushers.”
Othrik’s gaze raked the congregation. Skyre felt the burn even when the words, he knew, were not for him.
“From the embers came fell creatures—wights borne of fire punctured by a hundred gaping eyes. The Spréen, they were, and they came in judgement. They stalked the land and to any unbathed in the ash of the Strider’s fire, would spread themselves upon their flesh till naught was left but blackened bones!”
