Diviner's Prophecy (Book One Diviner's Trilogy) Read online

  I swung my head towards him and searched his age-worn face. Hilliard and I often played a game called “do you remember.” He would point out different plants and animals and ask me their names. It was supposed to be a good exercise for my mind. He had not asked me about my past before.

  “I do,” I replied.

  He grinned, revealing a missing tooth, and leaned back in the saddle. “You were always a curious child.”

  I smiled at the memory. Of course I remember that; those memories haven’t been tampered with. I thought bitterly. Damara made appearances in the fragmented recollections. My smile slipped away. What happened that night? What changed?

  “I’m not going to tell ye that things will get better. I don’t know what the future holds, and I’m not a diviner like you. But you can make the best of what you have left.”

  I mumbled an inarticulate reply, and he seemed appeased. Perhaps he was right and there was a way for me to fashion a life out of the broken pieces I had left. We rode in silence while I contemplated my future. We reached a copse of trees and stopped to wait for the others. Hilliard went to scout, his hand hovering over his sword belt.

  He had not gone far when he shouted for me. “Maea! Come here!”

  I cantered over to him with my heart pounding in my chest. When I reached him, he had his arm extended, gesturing across a meadow that lay before us.

  “What’s wrong? Is it bandits?”

  “No, see in the distance.”

  I followed the line of his finger. A scattering of small farms filled the landscape. In the distance, the crescent shape of a city wall emerged from the hilltop. It backed onto a cliff worn smooth, and ships were harbored at its base. Their bare masts appeared skeletal against the blue of the sea. Along the rise of the hill, rows of shops and homes spread towards the center of the city, and smoke wafted from their hundreds of chimneys. Further up the hill, a secondary ring began with a few grander houses. In the center, at the cliff’s edge, turrets erupted along high walls.

  “It’s beautiful. What is it?” I whispered. Emotion welled up in my chest unexpectedly, like a homecoming, as if this was where I belonged, and maybe it was.

  “That is Keisan, the Royal City by the Sea.”

  We arrived at the palace gates a few hours later, and it was even more beautiful up close. The smooth, pale walls gleamed in the sunlight. We entered onto a single lane lined with verdant gardens. Twin fountains burbled on either side of the road, and gardeners hurried about trimming hedges and digging in the multitude of flower beds. The perfume of jasmine and the scent of the ocean filled the air. Beneath gazebos and covered walkways, clusters of courtiers gathered. A few lifted a head and marked our passage and upon seeing our road-weary mien turned away, chatting as if we were not worthy of their notice. I glanced down to my dusty gown. What was I to these glimmering courtiers but a peasant. Though, I supposed I was; I had no land to claim, I had no title either, other than loose ties with House Diranel, which amounted to nothing. What was I but a parasite upon their society.

  Servants materialized and led our steeds to a receiving courtyard. Hilliard jumped down from his steed and hurried over to help Damara from her mount. He leaned in to whisper in her ear. Of my companions, I trusted Hilliard the most, but I reminded myself, He is in her service first.

  A servant helped me from my mount. I went around to face the mare that had borne me to the city. I stroked her nose. The animal huffed in my face, blowing my hair back. I patted its cheek. At least I can trust you. The servant who helped me dismount took the reins of the animal and with a bow to me said, “My lady, I will see to the creature’s comfort.”

  I felt strange to be address thusly. I dropped my hand and watched the servant lead her away. Damara’s attendants slipped away without a word, confident in their place in the world, while I hovered like a ship lost at sea.

  Damara chatted with a well-dressed man with a chain of office around his neck. Johai stood off to the side, arms folded over his chest. No change there.

  “Your grace, I shall lead you and your party to your rooms now, if you please.”

  “Thank you, we are weary from our long travels.”

  “Very well.” He bowed before turning and leading us into the palace proper.

  I trailed behind, bedazzled by the splendid interior. I wanted to resist the opulence. I did not want to be swayed by the finery and niceties. I had made a conscious decision to be melancholy, but without a past, everything was a new experience, and an unconscious part of my mind was thrilled by the whitewashed walls draped in thick tapestries and the ceiling inlaid with gold and mosaics. Every few feet, a niche hosted a decorative vase, statue or bust. I must have appeared a simpleton gaping at the splendor. My head swiveled back and forth; indeed, Johai chastised me.

  “You look like a fool with your mouth agape like that.”

  His reproof reminded me of my anger, and I snapped back. “Pardon me for being impressed by beauty, perhaps you are jaded by such things, but to me it is all new.”

  His expression did not change, but I knew I had insulted him somehow.

  “Keep up,” he said and strode away, leaving me to scowl at his retreating form.

  We traversed several halls and a flight of stairs before reaching Damara’s appointed rooms on the second floor. Upon entering the receiving room, Damara’s house colors, the House Florett, flooded my vision. Someone had arranged yellow and blue flowers and placed them in vases along lacquered tables. Even the tapestry bore her house crest: a yellow flower blooming against a light blue field. Damara stepped into the room and inhaled deeply.

  She turned to face me. “Welcome to Keisan, Maea.”

  I fought the grin that threatened to bloom on my features. I did not want them to know how giddy I felt. This was not the life I had chosen. This splendor, it was magical and yet overwhelming because I would trade it all for a past and freedom. I organized my face to a schooled indifference and said instead, “May I be excused?”

  Damara’s smile faltered for a moment before she replied, “You may, and your room is right over there.” She gestured down a hallway.

  I bobbed a curtsy and headed in that direction. I half-expected one of them to follow me to my room and lock me in, but I opened the door and found my trunk placed at the foot of a four-poster bed draped in red velvet. This is home, I realized. All the fire I had felt was gone. I was defeated and their captive. My exhilaration had been tamped by the sobering thought that I enjoyed this at the cost of my independence and my memories.

  At some point, I dozed off. Road weary and my head pounding with a headache, I thought only to close my eyes for a moment. Next I remembered, I was being woken from tormented dreams of disembodied hands wrapped around my throat, stealing the breath from my body, by a woman’s voice calling to me. I tossed in my sheets and searched for its owner. My room was empty but for a flickering candle on the bedside table that I thought had been put out. I reached across for the candlesnuffer when a flash of white flitted past the corner of my eye.

  “Who’s there?”

  No reply came. I pushed back my sweat-soaked sheets and climbed out of bed.

  “Maea.”

  I twirled around and found only an empty room. Am I dreaming?

  “Come to me, daughter of my blood,” she crooned.

  I followed the sound of her voice as if in a trance. I snuck out of my chamber, surprisingly unlocked, and I left Damara’s apartments and padded down a long hallway. I should not be out here, I thought. Her voice continued to beckon me and called me forward, guiding my steps. I stopped along a stretch of blank wall, light shifted behind nearly invisible cracks in it, and I discovered a hidden handle to a concealed door. It opened up onto a dark hall I assumed was a servant’s passageway.

  I traversed down a series of pathways. The light from the sparse torches along the walls became fainter and fainter the deeper I traveled into the underbelly of the palace. I came to a halt outside a solid stone wall. Her voice conti
nued to call out to me and stirred a longing inside me that was impossible to deny.

  “Just a bit further,” the voice urged.

  I was under the spell of her voice, and my actions were not under my command. My hands slid over the smoothed stone until my fingers caught on a chink. I dug my nails into it and pulled. It shuddered as it swung open, revealing a descending stairwell. I followed the melodious voice. After a time, the stairwell ended at a wooden door. I pressed upon the splintered and decaying wood. Inside, water dripped, and the room smelt of the sea. I searched for the source and found a woman in a black cloak, her hood hiding her face, standing beside a basin into which the water dripped.

  “At last we meet, daughter of my blood.”

  “Who are you?” I asked.

  “I am who I have always been, the first and the last, the beginning and the end.”

  “I don’t understand. Why did you summon me here?”

  She gestured toward the basin and exposed one pale translucent hand. Fear overwhelmed me, and my feet remained planted in place. She moved over to me. I took a few steps back.

  “I am not the first of my kind you have dealt with.” Her hand reached for me and hovered over the pulse in my neck before resting along my cheek. “You do not remember he who has altered you.”

  Her touch was soothing, and I leaned into her hand. She pulled away, and a pair of violet eyes stared back into my own from beneath her hood.

  “You are a diviner, too.”

  “Yes.” She glided back to the basin. “Look.”

  I kneeled over the water. The surface was chaotic. Thousands of images overlapped one another, competing for my attention. I focused on flashes of visions: a crimson gown, eyes the color of sapphire, a knife dripping with blood, my face streaked with tears before being absorbed by the image of Johai, his face contorted and screaming.

  I pulled back as pain shot through my temple and bloomed in my skull like a white-hot fire. I folded over, bringing my head to my knees, and whimpered through the pain.

  “You are incomplete,” the other diviner said.

  I held back the bile threatening the back of my throat. I swallowed hard. “Can’t you help me?”

  “This is your test. You must find the key.”

  “What key?”

  “Use the clues to find the answers.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “You must remember, only then can you prevent His rising. If you fail, it will mean the destruction of all things.”

  Chapter Two

  Jostled awake, my eyes fluttered open, and Johai’s unreadable expression stared back at me. I swung my arms about, trying to land upon flesh, but he hooked them with his forearm and pinned them to my chest. I tried swinging my legs but could not gain momentum as he pressed me to his chest. He was deceptively strong, despite his lean stature.

  “Calm yourself,” he said.

  “I will if you tell me why you’re carrying me.”

  “You went missing.”

  Plain stone walls, dotted by rough-hewn wooden doors, surrounded us. Torches burned down to nothing lined the walls as well. I peered over his shoulder, and a pair of servants, one pulling on his livery, peeked at us through a crack in a door. A man, hair disheveled and still in his nightclothes, gawked at us from the doorway to his room. I could imagine the sight we made: me, dressed in my nightgown, being carried like a child by a man with unnaturally white hair. Why am I here? My mind struggled to make the connection.

  “I’m capable of walking on my own,” I said through gritted teeth.

  The servants leaned in to whisper to one another, and I lifted my gaze to the ceiling. The servants are no better than their employers, I suspect.

  “That’s yet to be seen,” he replied. His eyes remained forward, ignoring the increasingly curious crowd.

  “Why do you lord over me?”

  “Because you need constant supervision.”

  Thinking to catch him off guard, I wriggled an arm free and swung back to strike him across the face. He dodged my attack easily, and I growled in frustration. Before I could mount another assault, he threw me over his shoulder. I stared at the servants who had flooded out into the hall as I kicked and punched his back. He did not so much as flinch. Let them see, I thought. Perhaps if I make a mockery of myself, I will not be of any use to them. Of course, for me to know if I was to be of any use, I would need to know what they needed me for.

  We reentered the palace halls a short way from Damara’s apartments. They were empty. Johai dropped me to my feet, and before I could run away, he grabbed me by the wrist and dragged me into the apartment. Damara stood as we entered the receiving room and relief relaxed her face.

  “Oh, thank the Goddess you’re safe. I feared the worst.”

  “What could possibly happen to me?” I asked.

  Damara patted my shoulder. “Nothing, I just worry.”

  Liar, I thought. Did they truly think I was a fool, that I had not realized they were trying to use me. I stomped off towards my bedchamber, thinking to lock myself in and wishing never to leave again. Damara followed me into my bedroom, and I assumed they were rethinking locking my chamber door, but instead, she stood by the door as I flopped myself face first onto the bed.

  I waited a few minutes for her to lock the door and leave, but she did not.

  “Are you going to lock me into my room so I won’t flee?” I said, my face turned towards my headboard.

  “Is that why you left in the middle of the night?” Her tone was not accusatory, but it still struck me that way. Her feet padded softly across the floor before the bed shifted as she sat at the edge of it. I folded my arms over my chest and did my best to ignore her. “You may not remember, but I do care for you as if you were my daughter.”

  I did remember her, and that’s what made her betrayal hurt that much more. I declined to answer and instead stared at the whirling pattern of the carved wood of my headboard.

  “I understand why you’re hesitant to trust me. But I do have your best interest at heart.”

  I rolled over to give her a disbelieving glare, but her pained expression struck me, and I instead stared at her profile, the sweep of her nose and the branches creasing the corner of her eyes. She stared out the window as if lost in her memories.

  I considered asking her why this had happened to me and who had done it, but I knew it wasn’t that simple. If she was willing, she would have told me, and that, in my eyes, made her just as guilty as the person who had taken them away.

  I thought about the night before and the other diviner’s veiled warnings. Who had done this to me, and why did I maintain my education? Why are my visions and training clear but not the man who taught me? The words dangled from the tip of my tongue. But I swallowed them down as Johai entered my room.

  “Damara, Lord Thelron is here.”

  “I’ll be right there,” she replied to him and then to me, “I’m here if you need me.”

  She rose and left me alone with my jumbled thoughts.

  *~*~*

  Damara called for the Court Magiker to examine me after my nighttime excursion. He shuffled into my chamber and set his bag down on a side table with a thunk. I sat at the edge of my bed, wringing my fingers in my hand. If Damara had requested him, I feared he would be someone in her control. Would he administer some tonic to keep me docile and obedient? Would I further lose myself in their plotting?

  The Magiker stepped in front of me and absorbed my vision. I upturned my head to him and prepared to speak when he grabbed me by the chin and forced my head back. He peered into my eyes, pulling back my lids. The abruptness of it caught me off guard, and words failed me.

  “Open your mouth,” he said.

  I did so, and he looked into it as if I were a horse at the local festival.

  “Do you have any other symptoms aside from the memory loss?” he asked as he pressed his fingers to the inside of my wrist.

  “Only—only the occasional headaches.” I fum
bled. I had not expected him to be quite so brisk.

  “I see…” he mumbled. “Take off the necklace. I need to examine your neck for injury.”

  My hand grasped reflexively around the smooth metal. I refused to let anyone part me from the one thing that gave me comfort. The Magiker pursed his lips. He placed his crabbed hand over mine and pried my hand off the necklace. His eyes narrowed.

  “It’s a calming charm,” Damara said as she entered the room with Johai at her shoulder. He was impassive, as always.

  The Magiker turned to regard her. “I know what it is,” he growled. He rummaged around in his bag before extracting a bundle of herbs. “Steep this in warm water twice a day, and call for me if the pain increases, and no scrying until these headaches subside.”

  I took the herbs and pressed them to my chest. “Thank you,” I said. That will please them, I thought. It will keep me ignorant. Not that my visions have proved useful as of late.

  He huffed, and Damara motioned to show him out. He did not seem to notice her. He stood peering up at Johai from beneath his bushy brows. Johai gazed down at him. He easily had half a foot over the man and leveled him with a bland gaze.

  “You had so much promise, and this is what you waste your talent on?” He swept his arm around the room.

  Johai stared back without answer.

  The Magiker threw up his arms. “I thought you had more sense than to meddle with these things.”

  “You thought wrong,” Johai replied.

  He scoffed and stomped over to his bag. He grabbed it forcefully from the table and left, mumbling under his breath. Damara followed him out, but Johai lingered for a moment, staring after the Magiker.

  The interchange had piqued my curiosity, and I remarked to Johai, “You know one another?”

  He turned and gave me the same blank stare.

  “What does he mean by ‘meddling in these things’?” I asked Johai, half-hoping he would divulge some terrible secret.

  “It does not concern you, Maea.” Johai turned on his heel and walked out as well, without even giving me the courtesy of a rebuttal.