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The priest, Pallis, scoffed. "The Sight? Unheard of," he said. "A legend!"

The emperor silenced him with a gesture. "Lorekeeper, explain."

Eovin nodded at Korvan with respect, then turned his attention back to Mhera. "There are many examples of such a gift throughout history, my lady. What you have described was well-documented throughout the First and Second Eras. In fact, the harbinger of our Blessed Sovereign Katyander was a woman with the gift of the Sight. Although we may all forget her, and her name is lost to history, a humble servant of the Goddess had a vision that led to the discovery of the Chosen One. Without her—without her gift—our world may very well have fallen to the Dark God so many centuries ago."

Mother Dalla knit her brow. Eovin, casting his glance around those assembled at the table, noticed this. "Holy Mother, perhaps you recognize this tale."

The priestess said, "Well ... yes. Your Grace, it is in the Book of Katyander: 'And thus spake the prophets: the Chosen One shall come from a world apart ... the mark of Zanara is upon Her, and the dark angel seeks Her ruin.' I had never paused to consider ..."

"Not just pretty verse, Mother. There are documents—the originals have long since crumbled, and not all translations are reliable, but the vein of truth runs through them. I can show you some writings from the First Era that you would find unsettlingly familiar when compared against your holy books."

The emperor broke in. "What is this, then? Do you propose that Lady Mhera has some power to see into the future?"

"Indeed, Your Grace, as she no doubt knows far too well, for she glimpsed the fate of the empress before anyone else could know. What a burden to have borne, my lady. The Sight is described as a fickle, uncertain thing. One vision may reveal something yet to come; others reveal things that have happened—and you ..." Eovin trailed off, unable to make reference in words to the vision Mhera had described of seeing Koreti die. "Well. Some are visions of the past. Once, such visions were studied and interpreted with great care, but the gift was thought to be lost. It may well be, Lady Mhera, that you have this gift for a reason. It may well be that Our Lady granted you the Sight. Perhaps there is another dark time at hand, as in the days of the Great War."

Before anyone could react to what Eovin had said—dark words indeed, although only speculation—Mhera broke in. "But I don't want it." Tears strained her voice. She forced herself to sit up straighter, to hold in the urge to cry. "I do not want to See these things. I did not ask for this."

Lorekeeper Eovin smiled sadly at her, his sympathy clear in his eyes. "No one asks for their gifts, dear lady. More often than not, a gift is a burden one must bear."

The emperor stood abruptly. Yorek was on his feet in the same instant, and the others made to rise, but Korvan jerked his hand in a quelling gesture, bidding them to remain seated. He began to pace at the head of the table, lifting one hand to pinch the bridge of his nose and closing his eyes. "What does this mean, then, for Mhera?"

"It makes her a target, Your Grace," Yorek said.

Mhera looked, horrified, at the emperor's councilor. Yorek lowered himself back into his seat, looking not at her, but at her uncle.

"Consider, for a moment, that yon lorekeeper is right and that this gift has been granted for a purpose. Whatever that purpose may be, we are mortal, and Zanara's divine ways are beyond us. We cannot know the truth of it. But, Your Grace, the evil power of the rebellion threatens. What we once fought with skirmishes here and there is steadily mounting into a war. The rebels' numbers are small, and their success impossible. But if Lady Mhera has the ability to See things yet to come ..."

"She would be in danger, Your Grace." Eovin spoke without looking away from Mhera, who met his gaze desperately, willing him to say something else, to take this all back. "It grieves me to say it, but Lady Mhera has demonstrated the truth of her power. If it comes to war, she may See something advantageous to one side or another, just as the nameless prophetess who brought us Katyander saw what would be the Dark God's undoing."

"They'll kill her," Korvan whispered. Now, he stood still, his hands loose at his sides, staring at Mhera, through Mhera, as if she were already gone. "Or they'll take her. They'll take her, and they'll use her against us."

"They won't," Mhera said. She pushed back from the table and stood. Her legs felt weak. Coupled with her own fear of being the object of the Arcborn rebellion's violence was the horror of seeing her uncle's fear of the same. Emperor Korvan feared nothing. The Arcborn had broken him. They had made him fear, and Mhera couldn't bear it. "They can't. I'm here with you, Uncle, and I'll be safe. In the palace, I'll be safe."

"You won't be safe."

"Koreti was safe! He ran away! That's why they took him!" Mhera cried. At her side, she heard the soft sound of her governess crying. "He was young and bold and foolish and grieving and he ran away, and he died because of it. I won't—I'll stay here, within the palace walls. I'll never leave again!"

"They'll find a way. They'll take you."

Mhera crossed the room, formalities forgotten, and fell against Korvan, wrapping her arms around his waist and pressing her cheek to the smooth fabric of his coat. She felt his arms settle around her shoulders, but his body was stiff and unyielding; his mind was a world away.

"Your Grace, there is a place where my lady can be protected from all harm," said Yorek.

Mhera opened her eyes and saw the councilor's round face through a haze of tears.

"I beg you, Your Grace; send Lady Mhera to the Haven. There, she will be safe. The ocean surrounds it; no one can go there but that they are seen by our sentries on the shore. It is remote, perhaps beyond the reach of any nefarious magic."

No, Mhera thought. He will never do that to me. He will never consign me to that prison, that empty rock in the sea.

"I have no choice," Korvan said, and his voice came from very far away. 


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