Free The Light of the Oracle by Victoria Hanley Page B

the red cardinal. Such a gifted prophetess that Renchald and the First Priestess were nearly swooning over her. But she let it be known she was keeping some of her visions back. They treat that as a crime here in the Temple. One day she was gone, and no one would speak of her.” He shut his eyes for a moment. “I'm glad you gave her water.” He shook his head. “I hope she survived.”
    Bryn nodded eagerly. “If it's true that those dreamswere prophecies, she
is
alive. I saw her again.” She described the image of Selid writing at a slanted desk.
    “She spoke to you?” He looked at her sharply.
    “ Yes. But before I could ask what she meant, the First Priestess woke me.” Bryn took up a rake. She ran her hands up and down the handle. A splinter caught her palm. She dropped the rake and began probing for the sliver. Jack, who had been nosing about, came to put his head against her side.
    Kiran extended a hand. “Splinter?”
    She offered her palm. He brought it close to his face, blowing on the spot that hurt. Bryn's knees felt weak. She blushed, and hoped he was concentrating too hard to notice. Deftly, he plucked out the splinter, flicking it to the floor. “ You're right to keep that vision from the Master Priest,” he said grimly. “It may be that Selid was writing a prophecy when you saw her. If Renchald knew she was alive and practicing prophecy outside the Temple, he'd hunt her down with all his power.”
    Don't tell him. He'll find me and order me killed
. Bryn shuddered, and Kiran gripped her hand tightly before letting it go.
    “The lighted thistledown—you say it moved in front of you?”
    “ Yes.”
    “If you ever see that light again, you must follow it. No matter where it leads.”
    Goose bumps fanned over Bryn's back and down her arms.
I'm glad I didn't betray Selid to the Master Priest.
    But what if Renchald knew she had concealed a dream from him; what if he brought her before him again and ordered her to reveal it? If she refused, would he send her back to Uste? Or worse, leave her in the desert to die?
    Don't tell him. She'll never read my words.
Again the sorrowful whisper drifted through Bryn's mind.

SUMMER

Eight
    On the morning of the summer solstice, the day of the Ceremony of Birds, Bryn woke as usual to Dawn shaking her shoulder. “Stars and luminaries, Bryn, get up—hurry!”
    They had agreed to rise even earlier than normal, so they could finish scrubbing the latrines in time to take baths. Usually the bathing tubs would be filled only on Kelday afternoons. The Feathers would always take first turn; by the time the likes of Dawn and Bryn could bathe, the water was tepid and filmed with spent soap suds. But today, senior handmaids would draw the baths in the early morning. Several women were already busy filling large copper tubs with steaming water as Bryn and Dawn grabbed their scrub buckets and aprons.
    Bryn began at one end of the line of latrines, Dawn at the other. They competed with each other to see who would reach the middle first. Bryn scrubbed as fast as she could, listening for the sounds of Dawn's brush scouring soapy boards.
    They finished in good time to bathe before thegong. They had the washroom to themselves; the senior handmaids had left full tubs steaming.
    Bryn flung off her scrub-apron gleefully before washing her hands in a basin. She put aside her nightgown and stepped into a bath. A cake of soap lay in the small wire basket hanging from the tub. She rubbed suds through her hair, then dunked under the water's surface to rinse. When she popped her head out again, she and Dawn were no longer alone.
    Clea stood at the side of her tub; Eloise beside Dawn's. Charis, Narda, and a few of the other Feathers gathered around.
    “Eloise,” Clea said, “a rat has nearly drowned in this tub.”
    “Rats should know enough not to spoil the baths for us,” Eloise answered.
    “There are other baths ready, Eloise,” Dawn said, pointing. “And you've polluted more