She was about to answer more elaborately, but the Medium whispered for her to simply say, “Yes.” So she did.
“Before you pass the maston test, you will be given a Gift of Knowledge. It will help you to understand the test, for you must pass it alone. No one else will be with you. This is the lower dungeon of the Abbey. It represents the world where we live, not the world we came from. Deeper in the Abbey, behind a latticework called the Rood Screen, you will find the Apse Veil. The room beyond is a representation of the world of Idumea. To pass the maston test, you must do everything required to enter the Apse. Before you pass the Rood Screen, you will be given the chance to turn back. If you quit, you will lose your chance to become a maston. If you fail the test, you may try again in one year’s time. If you succeed, you will receive a shirt of chaen and another Gift.”
Lia waited patiently.
“Let me begin with the Gift of Knowledge. I will only speak it this once. You will not be allowed to ask questions, but you will be given the chance to ponder what you have heard after passing the Rood Screen. Listen carefully and let the Medium impress upon your thoughts the words that I will say. It is truth not to be engraved into tomes. You must engrave it in your feelings and in your thoughts.”
Lia listened with anticipation to every word. She was not expecting the truths the Aldermaston taught her. Some she already knew. Most of it was new and filled her with amazement. As the Aldermaston spoke, the power of the Medium surged, filling her mind with thoughts and images. She knew he was standing in front of her, but there was opened to her thoughts a new world that went beyond anything she imagined. As he spoke, she could see in her mind the events he described. Not just words, but she could see their representation.
The vision dazzled her.
All her life she had heard Idumea described as a world, as a person, as a benevolence in the aether that blessed everything with life and health and joy through the intervening power of the Medium. Now she learned that Idumea was a place, not a person. It was a world filled with a race called the Essaios. They were beautiful and graceful beings, perfect in delicacy and strength. They looked like men and women that surrounded her, only taller, more graceful and beautiful than anyone she had ever seen. Even more, their skin glowed with the power of the Medium, for
it
obeyed
them
. She saw their beautiful cities, their enormous gardened cities and wept with joy and wonder. To her, the Abbey grounds were the most beautiful place in the world, but the city-gardens of Idumea were a thousand times more beautiful, a hundred thousand times more grand. The enormity of them defied comparison. She realized that the finely sculpted grounds of Muirwood were merely a pathetic attempt to mimic the wonders of Idumea. The Essaios were wise and powerful and they could never die. From the world of Idumea, they reined as king-mastons and queen-mastons over millions of millions of worlds spread throughout a skein of interlocking worlds that was beyond Lia’s comprehension, vast beyond anything she could imagine. Millions of little worlds, like hers, spread throughout the infinite expanse. The Essaios used the Medium to craft worlds, to command the forces of fire and ice and sea and storm to create and to tame the wild elements into obedience. As she watched, she hungered to be like them, to wield the Medium in such a powerful way. Then she realized that she could, someday – that she was already a part of them, and that they had created
her
as well as their worlds.
Lia was amazed to learn she herself had come from Idumea. It was her home, the place of her first life. So many times she had heard of her existence as a “second life” – that she was born as wretched, but it was not her beginning. There was a place before that, a place where she lived among the Essaios. How could she describe herself? A spark? A floating ember? A spider’s web of immateriality that lived among the Essaios, so fragile, so delicate. An intelligence. An awareness clothed in a substance as faint as a shadow. To become an Essaios, she would have to leave Idumea. Her shadow-self would have to come to a fallen world with no memory of her former life. All were equally ignorant. None were given the advantage of remembering their life in Idumea. She was promised – they were all promised – that if they would be calm and listen carefully, they would hear the murmurs of the Medium guiding them back. The Medium would aid them and assist them if they allowed themselves to be tamed by it. In order to tame it, they must first be tamed by it. If they followed the whispers of the Medium, it would teach them how to craft buildings of sculpted stone that would become a link back to the world of Idumea and allow their return.
That thought was profound and amazed her. Muirwood, as with the other Abbeys, was a gateway back to Idumea. And not just to Idumea but to any of the other millions of worlds where there were enough mastons to build them. Each generation of maston families grew stronger and stronger with the Medium until at last a new generation was strong enough in the Medium to banish death. There would come a time when the chain was strong enough that two mastons, joined by an irrevocare sigil, could use the Medium to bring all of their ancestors back from the dead, in bodies remade into the race of the Essaios and together cross the threshold back to Idumea and join the ranks of others who had so done. It had happened in Muirwood already, she suddenly realized. The stone ossuaries that had washed away, revealing nothing but grave clothes and wedding bands. The Essaios cared not for trinkets of gold or cemetery linen. Nor did they want to linger behind on a fallen world. Unseen, they had entered the Abbey and crossed the Apse Veil back to their true home.
That was the destiny of her race, she realized. It was the duty that compelled Colvin – to be part of that grand chain, that link that would make it possible for himself and his family to conquer death. She knew that it was part of her blood as well. Was it possible then that her parents had been joined together by an irrevocare sigil? Or at least someone from their ancestry?
The knowledge she was given went beyond anything she could fully understand. It smothered her with possibilities. Yet she was so happy, so full of the intent of what it meant. But the Aldermaston was not finished. There was more to the history than she had been told so far. With the burning desire still inside, she listened as the information began to shift in darker tones. Yes, Idumea was a place of beauty and power. But occasionally, rarely, there were those shadow-selves, like she had been, that wanted to become Essaios without delay, without earning it. Beings that learned how to force the Medium to do their will instead of submitting their wills to it. Just as there were millions and millions of stars and worlds shimmering and sparkling, there was a balance, an equal portion of dead things that would not progress, would not grow, would not enter the cocoons of birth and transform. There were those that turned so much inside themselves that every speck of light was smothered even though they could not die of it. Rather than coming to the world cocooned in a babe’s body, they had been flung out of Idumea – cursed for their wickedness and cruelty. They were banished to the very worlds where the scions of Idumea were coming alive.
Lia understood Colvin’s comments now. The Myriad Ones were not the dead. They were the Unborn. They were the sparks, the gossamer threads, the shadow-intelligences that were too wicked to be born, too selfish to create, to wild to tame. And they had a Queen.
Lia watched in horror. Yes, the Myriad Ones would never be born, but they were cunning and devious and twisted truths to suit their purposes. They were led by a Queen named Ereshkigal who hated the Essaios for banishing her and her followers and swore she would destroy the Abbeys, to prevent anyone from returning to Idumea. Anyone. To further her cause, she created an order, just as the Essaios had created the order of mastons to build Abbeys and bring people back to Idumea. They were called the
hetaera
and they only accepted women into the order. They were taught to hate the mastons, to murder them, and destroy the Abbeys. The hetaera were the hidden power behind kings and emperors who they manipulated all to their ends. In every land, in every realm, they existed – some in secret and some openly. The hetaera forged the kystrels and used them to entice, through the Medium, others to do Ereshkigal’s bidding.
Without being told, Lia realized that Pareigis, the Queen Dowager, was a hetaera. And just as assuredly as she realized that, she knew that it was she who had driven the old king to murder the mastons. A hetaera was the equal of a maston in using the Medium. It was a frightening thought. Only one of the race of Essaios was more powerful.
Lia realized the risk then. If she chose to become a maston, she could qualify ultimately to become an Essaios. She could also be murdered for becoming one.
The Aldermaston did not make that final conclusion, but she realized it nonetheless. She understood now the risk that she faced. If she proceeded to the Rood Screen, she would get the chance to pass the maston test. Or she could walk away, keeping silent the knowledge she had received and wonder for the rest of her life if she had made the wrong decision.
“Do you seek the rights of the mastons?” the Aldermaston asked her softly.
She remembered when she had first met Colvin, wounded on the tiles of the kitchen. How she had noticed his chaen shirt and recognized his fear of being killed. Somehow he had managed to live with the fear. Could she do any less?
“Yes,” she answered firmly.
* * *
The Rood Screen was beautifully carved of oak, stained dark like blood. Tall wooden slats ran straight up and down but the tips were connected into intricate arches. The wood was twisted and sculpted with decorations marked with maston symbols – the offset squares forming eight-point stars. Each ridge of wood, the junctions and the trim were all beautifully carved out and polished. Between the slats of wood hung misty white shrouds, preventing any glimpse of what lay beyond though she discerned there was a light Leering beyond and which made the soft sheets glow brilliantly. Hesitantly, she looked at the Aldermaston.
“You must proceed on your own,” he said in a whisper-like voice. “I will wait for you until you return.”
She bowed her head and nodded weakly, wondering what would await her. What challenge would test her? What would it mean? Her mind was so full already that she did not know how much more she could endure.
At the center of the Rood Screen was a wide section, a doorway. The Aldermaston motioned her towards it, and she stepped softly towards the gossamer fabric. Her hand trembled a little as she reached towards and parted the curtain. As she stepped through, she was jolted with the full force of the Medium. It made her knees wobble and tears stab her eyes. The room was beautiful and carved from stone. It was circular in design with seven stone pillars, each carved into the shape of a Leering. The one directly opposite was of a bearded man and it gripped her attention. It was more than a man’s face, it was a robed body with one arm lifted towards the sky. The image transfixed her, drawing in her eyes, wondering at its meaning – and then she remembered seeing the Aldermaston perform the maston sign while saving Astrid from death. There were other Leerings as well, one of a lion, another of a sheep. Another of a snake. She looked at the others as well. A blazing sun. One of the Leerings was a twisting vine, with flowers and leaves. The last, a bull with horns. Each was sculpted to the smallest detail, with craftstmanship beyond anything she had seen. Between each of the pillars were walls of marble with carved insets with white stones on them. The stones shined brilliantly, illuminating everything in the room. Not every gap between the pillars were stone however. The one behind her was made of the white linen shrouds. Two other shrouds were on the far wall, between the pillar with the bearded man with the lion on one side and the sheep on the other.
The floor was a mosaic that dazzled her, but in the center of the room, inset into the floor, the lip and ridges of a stone ossuary that went below the ground. The lid of the ossuary was open and shoved partway aside. In front of the shallow pit was a wide stone bowl and before that, a bundle of white linen.
Lia wondered what to do, but the ossuary drew her eyes and she cautiously approached it. It was long but not very deep and inside was a stone slab – a bier. The bundle of linen was the first thing in front of her, followed by the bowl, and then the ossuary. The Leerings stared at her and she could feel their eyes on her, boring into her. Watching her stand there, gaping.
She advanced slowly. The thought of rushing about was abhorrent to her. There was power in this place beyond anything she had felt before. The ossuary was not deep, but it looked disturbing. What was an ossuary doing in the middle of the Abbey? She looked at the white bundle. Were they graveclothes? What was she supposed to do?
The thought came quickly to her mind, as it always did. Everything was arranged in a certain order. She knew the billowy curtain on the far wall was the Apse Veil. It was her objective to cross it. Before she could, however, there were things she needed to accomplish. The linens were first, so she guessed that it was required for her to put them on. She knelt by the bundle of fabric and unfolded it. There were two pieces, she discovered. A beautiful white chemise with designs along the shoulder as well as the hem. The designs were threaded in silver, more beautiful than anything she had beheld. The other garment was a lacy shroud that was longer than the chemise, like an outer garment. She had to wear them, she realized.
Looking around with only the Leerings to look at her, she slowly removed the learner robes. She trusted her instincts, but she was still nervous. She fingered the edge of the chemise and realized that it bore the same markings she had seen before – and had seen on Colvin’s chaen shirt. Was the maston custom different for women than it was for men? She did not know. Anxiously, she pulled on the soft chemise. She still worse the necklace with the ring threaded through it. Images from that night flooded her memory. Graveclothes found near empty stone ossuaries. She stood and straightened the fabric. The chemise was shorter, but the laced garment was full and deep and it extended down to her wrists and coiled to her ankles on the floor. It fit her like a gown, surprisingly. She folded the learner robes left them in a bundle by the basin.