The billowy Apse Veil beckoned her forward. There were two portals, one on each side of the bearded Leering. She was drawn toward the one on the left.
She approached it, still rubbing her hand and stood before it, waiting. There was a faint shadow behind the cloth – a person.
A man’s voice spoke to her. “Welcome, little sister. What do you seek?”
She knew his tone immediately, the peculiar accent. It was Maderos, the one she and Colvin had met in the gardens with his crooked staff. Had he been there all along? Was there a tunnel beneath the Apse Veil leading to his secret chamber with the tomes? A passageway she had never seen before?
He had asked her a question.
Licking her lips, she answered. “I seek to become a maston.”
She could hear the smile in his voice. “What do you desire?”
She wondered a moment, but the thought was quick to her mind this time. Everything she had learned from the Aldermaston’s instruction made the answer clear. “My home. I seek Idumea.”
His voice was thick with emotion. “What is your name?”
She knew the word in her tongue. Fruitful. But as she spoke, she felt the Gift of xenoglossia work her mouth and she said it in Idumean. “Eprayim.”
For a moment, she waited breathlessly. The smudge of shadow moved and through the gossamer veil, she saw Maderos’ hand reach out to pull her through. With excitement flittering inside her, she grabbed his hand. As soon as their skin touched, the world around her lurched dizzingly. She was falling, falling off a cliff. The air rushed through her eyes, her hair, her mouth, a deafening roar. She could not breathe. She could not think. The rush of light and sound was more furious than any midsummer storm. She gripped Maderos’ hand tightly, squeezing it for fear of losing herself into the void.
Then it was over, she was through. The Apse was huge – it was the highest point with a domed ceiling supported by enormous stone struts. There were windows set into the walls, thick with veils, but it seemed as if sunlight shone through them, which was absurd since it was only just night. The room was magnificently decorated with soft couches, tables, vases, fresh flowers, bowls of apples. Around the couches were large lacquered tables. One, near the far wall, had an open tome on it. Above the tome was a curious instrument – silver bows with transparent stones set into them. She knew instinctively that they were positioned over the tome to help in the reading of it.
Maderos was with her, garbed in white as well, a glimmering chaen shirt – like Colvin’s – beneath his. His crooked staff was no where to be seen. He had not changed a bit since she had last seen him. That was a year before, atop the Tor as he pointed her way to Winterrowd.
“Well done, lass,” he said, smiling at her. “You are a maston.”
“I am?”
“Why must I always repeat myself to you? You need to listen. Eh? You were born to be a maston. Or a hetaera. It is your choices which brought you through the Apse veil. It was your thoughts.”
Lia smiled sheepishly. “This is a beautiful chamber. I have never felt such peace.”
Maderos looked at her oddly. “Nor will you, until you visit Idumea.” He looked up at the great dome above. “This is not the finest nor the largest Abbey in this world. But that is not the point of building them. This is a place of refuge. I thought of taking you to Hautland, but that may have confused you.”
Lia looked at him, shocked.
“Oh yes, little sister. Hautland or Dahomey. Or any of the other Abbeys throughout the kingdoms. The Apse is but a gateway between them. When you are stronger, you will be able to cross on your own. But for now, your first time, you needed help.”
“I have so many questions,” Lia said.
He smiled but shook his head. “I may not answer them.”
Lia bit her lip. “I will ask anyway. Is the Queen Dowager a hetaera?”
Maderos looked at her shrewdly. “What do you think, lass?”
“I think that she is, but I am not sure.”
“How did you come by your suspicion then?” He arched a brow at her.
“The Medium.”
He reached and grabbed her chin and pinched it between his fingers, waggling her head. “You think that I would give you any other answer than what the Medium gave you? Think, child! Do not doubt. Do not hesitate. Do not worry yourself over what may or may not be. The Medium always speaks the truth. And what is truth? Eh? What is truth?”
Lia stared at him, uncomfortable. Her chin hurt a little. “Truth is things as they really are. Not what we wish it to be.”