Blood of the Fold

"Well, I think you had better try to get some influence." He leaned closer, lowering his voice even though there was no one around. "The six Sisters of the Dark who escaped on that ship, remember?"

She looked to his blue eyes and frowned. "What does that have to do with who will become prelate?"

Warren twisted the robes at his stomach into a violet knot. "Who's to say there were only six. What if there's another at the palace? Or another dozen? Or hundred? Sister Verna, you're the only Sister I trust to be a true Sister of the Light. You must do something to insure that a Sister of the Dark doesn't become prelate."

She glanced to the palace in the distance. "I told you, I'm one of the younger Sisters. My word holds no sway, and the others know that the Sisters of the Dark all escaped."

Warren looked away, trying to smooth out the wrinkles in his robes. Suddenly, he turned back, suspicion creasing his brow.

"You think I'm right, don't you. You think there are still Sisters of the Dark at the palace."

She met his intense eyes with a placid expression. "While I don't think it entirely out of the realm of possibility, there is no reason to believe it is so, and beyond that, it is only one of a great many matters that must be taken into consideration when —

"Don't give me that double-talk that comes so easily to Sisters. This is important."

Sister Vema stiffened. "You are a student, Warren, speaking to a Sister of the Light; show the proper respect."

"I'm not being disrespectful, Sister. Richard helped me to see that I must stand up for myself and for what I believe. Besides, you're the one who took my collar off, and as you said, we're the same age; you are not my elder."

"You are still a student who — "

''Who you yourself said probably knows more about the prophecies than anyone else. In that, Sister, you are my student. I admit that you know more than I about a great many things, like the use of Han, but I know more than you about some things. Pan of the reason you took the Rada'Han from around my neck is because you know it's wrong to hold someone captive. I respect you as a Sister, and for the good you do, and for the knowledge you have, but I am no longer a captive of the Sisters. You have earned my respect, Sister, not my submission."

She studied his blue eyes for a long moment. "Who would have known what was under that collar." At last, she nodded. "You're right, Warren; I suspect there are others at the palace who have given a soul oath to the Keeper himself."

"Others." Warren searched her eyes. "You didn't say Sisters, you said others. You mean young wizards, too, don't you?"

"Have you so soon forgotten Jedidiah?"

He paled a little. "No, I haven't forgotten Jedidiah."

"As you said, where there is one, there could be others. Some of the young men at the palace could be sworn to the Keeper, too."

He hunched closer to her as he knotted his robes again. "Sister Vema, what are we going do about it? We can't allow a Sister of the Dark to become prelate; it would be a disaster. We must be sure one of them doesn't become prelate."

"And how would we know if she was sworn to the Keeper? Worse, what could we do about it? They have command of Subtractive Magic; we don't. Even if we could find out who they are, we couldn't do anything about it. It would be like reaching into a sack and grabbing a viper by its tail."

Warren paled. "I never thought of that."

Sister Verna clasped her hands. “We'll think of something. Perhaps the Creator will guide us."

"Maybe we could get Richard to return and help us, like he did with those six Sisters of the Dark. At least we've see the last of those six. They'll never show their faces again. Richard put the fear of the Creator in them, and sent them running.

"And in the process, the Prelate was hurt, and later died, along with Nathan," she reminded him, "Death walks with that man."

"Not because he brings it," Warren protested. "Richard is a war wizard; he fights for what's right, to help people. If he hadn't done as he did, the Prelate and Nathan would have only been the beginning of all the death and destruction."

She squeezed his arm; her tone softened. "Of course you're right; we all owe Richard a great debt. But needing him and finding him are two different things. My wrinkles attest to that." Sister Verna let her hand drop. "I don't think we can count on anyone but each other. We'll think of something."

Warren fixed her with a dark expression. "We had better; the prophecies hold ominous portent about the next prelate's reign."

Back in the city of Tanimura, they were once again surrounded by the incessant sound of drums coming from various directions; a booming, low-pitched, steady cadence that seemed to vibrate deep in her chest. It was unnerving and, she supposed, meant to be.