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Silvar noticed and came to a halt as well.

When she turned to me, I thought I could feel my heart hammering violently against my chest.

“This is madness,” I managed to say. “Who says I'm the woman from the prophecy?”

The tremor in my voice was pathetic.

Why did the Salma have to subside now of all times?

“Behind the prophecy lies a complicated calculation based on the Lucillian Star Calendar used to calculate the birth to this year, with deviations of a few months. But we are certain that you will give birth to the chosen one. Besides, everything in the ancient scriptures points to this.” She stepped closer and I tried my best not to back away. “Scriptures that only selected individuals are allowed to read.”

Only Domini around the world, the High Council and a few Interpres – third-level scribes of the Consignat – had access to the truly significant sections of the Moenia Archives, and hence to the few Lucillian scriptures and writings.

As far as I knew, Amara was one of those who knew.

Why hadn’t she warned me?

“Why do you have access to them?” I asked, irritated, because she was neither the Domini nor a member of the High Council and definitely not part of the Consignat.

“I am one of those who have been trained to raise the child from the prophecy.”

How could I have forgotten that, in the late seventies, the Councils had even launched a training program just so that there would be people to indoctrinate powerful Quatura descendants from an early age?

Usually, these people raised male Quatura children. They were also convinced that the child from the prophecy had to be a boy.

I suppressed a gulp.

“But if I am the child's mother...”

“You are the host body of the chosen one,” she interrupted me sharply. “Nothing more.”

I stared at her.

My throat continued to tighten.

I already knew that I was worthless to the Councils, but I hadn't expected them to verbalize it, to put it into clear words.

“I am her mother,” I blurted out, and a spark of pride decided it was time to leap through my belly, giving me unexpected willpower to take a step toward her, determined to hold her gaze.

Surprise flashed across her face, but only for a moment.

“Know your place!” She glared at me fiercely. “Now be quiet.” She turned and headed for the massive temple door. “And take off your robe.”

Everything inside me froze.

No. It was too early for that...

“I won't...”

She spun around again, her hands on the white crystal inlay of the double doors – the Air Quatura storage panel decorated with vine tendrils – which allowed Air Quatura to open the gates behind which the entire Circle of Blairville, the Councils, and guests from other Circles were already waiting to witness the ritual.

“Have you forgotten who your body belongs to?”

She came to me, grabbed my wrist, and dragged me to the door.

And I let her, feeling paralyzed, just like back then...

“Or should I go and get the members of the High Council first?”