The Paladin's Odyssey (The Windows of Heaven) (8 page)

A striped sphinx cub ambled onto the lawn from behind the sundial. The creature winked one of her huge golden eyes and made an expectant trilling noise from her throat.

“Yes,” Pyra answered the feline. “I’ll be your sister in the hunt.”

The sphinx trotted to her and rubbed against her legs with an affectionate purr.

“I see you can talk to her as easily as to me,” Pyra’s mother
said
from the archway. “Perhaps more so,” she added with a sigh.

Pyra squatted and embraced the young panther-like cat, which quickly touched noses with her in response.
“I told you I talk
ed
to animals.”

“I’ll never doubt it again.”

“Thank you, Mauma. She’s absolutely beautiful!”

“Her name is Taanyx. I wanted you to have her—to have someone.”

Pyra’s breath almost stopped at the change in her mother’s voice.

A chill northern sea breeze blasted the top of U’Lympe’s mound.

Pyra stood up from the sphinx and turned. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong, darling. I’ve been chosen.”

An icy sword jabbed down Pyra’s spine. “So soon?”

Her mother placed a warm hand on her shoulder. “My creation codes are compatible. There is great need.
W
ar
is coming and we want to use what the gods gave us wisely.
”

“But
…
”

Mauma cut her off. “Don’t listen to silly tales, darling. I’ll be fine.”

“When will it begin?”

“Within the week.”

F

rom inside the oracle orb’s cold fire, the woman’s image taught Pyra’s coven of initiates from almost a quarter of a world away. Klyeto of Psydonis no doubt had to squeeze
in
such lectures on the fly
in
to her tight schedule.
What a shame we can’t ask her questions back through the spirit realm,
Pyra thought.
I’m sure we could
—
Pandura does
—
just not with the type of oracle orb in the academy kiosks.

Pyra sat in the lowest tier of the sunken
indoor
amphitheater
surrounding
the
enormous
glass-pearl spheroid.
Quickfire conduits connected the oracle orb to hidden engines far beneath
U’Lympe’s garden-festooned mound
, and to golden emitters atop the central stepped pyramid
.

The
full
color motion-image of Klyeto’s earthen-tone face spoke the holy
power into each of them. “
…
The F
our Elementals are arranged on the Stairway of Heaven in sequences contain
ing
information.” The orb picture shifted to a model that looked like a metallic spiral staircase with different combinations of two out of four possible elemental symbols on each step.

Klyeto’s
Southlands-accented
voice continued, “Until now, you have thought
only
in terms of controlling the Elementals mystically
with
words. That is little more than a meditation exercise.
R
eal power comes by manipulating the coded information that the Elementals are
mere
quadratic symbols for.
We do that
materially
by alchemy, using powerful quickfire lenses.
This is the secret to how we make new forms of life in the sacred laboratories. Now that you are initiates, you
may
know some of the deeper mysteries. As you grow past novice-hood through the levels of wisdom, you shall
eventually
, like me, control the divine powers of creation.”

A sea breeze must have blown in Psydonis, for Klyeto’s dark gold-streaked hair ruffled slightly. Pyra could see the profusion of trees and flowers in the distant courtyard behind Lord Psydonu’s mother/wife. A small winged dragon flitted from branch to branch, distracting Pyra so that she didn’t hear Klyeto’s summary before the orb went dark.

The changing light broke Pyra’s trance.

“Sacred indoctrination is over,” said Harachne’s gruff voice. “You are all dismissed until your next dialogue session.”

Pyra rose to go find Taanyx, but felt a gentle tug on her pre-novice wrap. She turned when Harachne squeezed her shoulder and ran her hand down Pyra’s bare upper arm.

“I need you to stay after a little,” said the older woman.

Pyra slipped free of Harachne’s grip and sat down again. “Is there a problem?”

“No darling. It’s just that your mother is having her first treatment today and she will be a little late. You might want to go to the library after your last dialogue. I wanted to spend a moment with you now
to talk perhaps. I need you to know you can come to me if you need anything.”

Pyra put on her best sweet-tempered face.
Great! The Spider-woman wants to talk.
“That’s very kind of you. What’s on your mind?”

Harachne plopped her bulk down next to Pyra—closer than
was
prefer
able
. People said around the Temple courts that, in her day, Harachne had been quite attractive, but Pyra had trouble believing it. The woman was much older than Pandura and built like a titan. Her short bristly hair squared the top of her head like a bronze wedge helmet and she could probably out-wrestle most soldiers that wore such headgear.
For some reason Mauma needs someone strong in her life, like Harachne.

“Your mother and I have been consorts off and on since you were ten,” the Spider-woman said. “I know yo
u and I haven’t always seen eye-to—
eye, Pyra. But your mother will be going through some difficult changes
…
”

Pyra’s skin crawled as Harachne dropped a beefy arm over her shoulder.
“I know.”

“It would make things easier for her if we could get along better.”

“I understand. I’ll try.”

“I knew you would, dear. You’re a sensitive and intelligent girl. I’m weaving your novice outfit of the finest blue silk, you know. Your mother and I can’t wait to see you in it. It will be ready before the ceremony.”

“That’s very thoughtful, thank you. Everybody knows you are the finest on the loom. Will there be anything else?”

Harachne sounded disappointed. “No, I guess not. Run along. I’ll join you and your mother at the dorm later.”

Pyra broke free of the older woman’s grip and darted out of the academy wing into the sunlight. She preferred the outdoor amphitheater dialogue classes to sitting before the orb. Taanyx joined her from behind some bush; a small red winged serpent in her mouth that looked well played with and relieved to be out of its misery.

“I see you’ve found yourself a little friend,” Pyra said to the sphinx.

Taanyx scooted ahead into the girl’s path, turned, and reverently dropped the dead thing at her mistress’ feet.

Pyra paused and stooped down to face the slender young feline. “You offer me prey—the brightest and best
—h
ow sweet.” She scooped the tattered carcass up in the lower half of her wrap,
careful not to touch it directly, and equally careful to treat it with reverence for the token of friendship and trust that it was.

They walked together back to the dorm, where Pyra left Taanyx outside to chase butterflies in the sundial court. Once indoors
,
she quickly disposed of the carcass down the nearest waste shoot, carefully watching to see that Taanyx didn’t follow her in and see her. Then she washed her hands and touched up her cosmetics for the next session.

The striped sphinx joined her in front of the glass just as she finished applying new lip pigment.

“That was a yummy little dragon, Taanyx. I think from now on though, you can have them all to yourself, to enjoy as you like.”

The sphinx winked and made a short chirrup in her larynx.

Pyra stowed her cosmetics and left at a brisk pace toward the outdoor academy forum for the dialogue gathering. Most of the other initiates were just finding seats around the small amphitheater when she arrived. Taanyx disappeared into the green belt around the academy wing just as the instructor descended to the central podium.

Mnemosynae
,
Mistress of the Soul
and
the sacred mysteries of dreams and memories
, w
as Pyra’s favorite teacher. Statuesque and treacherously
stunning
as
any
goddess, her
large violet eyes
had a way of seeing through people as though they were glass statues. R
umors
told how
Priestess Mnemosynae
once
consorted directly with Tsey’Us
,
who supposedly relished the company of dark-haired women with rare eye-colors.
Nine daughters were born of this
“
Temple Law
union
,
”
if not in
trans-biological
fact,
each of whom had grown to be great musicians, poets, and storytellers. One, Khallio’Phe, had taught Pyra to play the lyre.

Pyra hoped to model her own career as a priestess
on
the mentorship of Mnemosynae
. While many of the sacred sages, like Pandura, saw the root drives of human nature as determined by bodily humors, animal impulses, and the creation codes, Mnemosynae felt there was something deeper and closer to the gods. Her uncanny ability to draw hidden memories from people’s dreams and to create new healing memories in her subjects through enchantments of controlled suggestion had won her an important place on the High Council. Not even Pandura interfered with her lightly.

Pyra took a seat as close to the front as possible
,
and
with a short incantation of openness under her breath
,
prepared her
mind to receive divine wisdom
.
Taanyx’s little love offering had helped relax her after her encounter with Harachne. Otherwise
,
she would have had to repeat the meditative words much longer to achieve inner
harmony
.

Mnemosynae mounted the central platform, allowing her odd purple eyes to rest on the learners. “Today’s discussion will explore our own existence and the value we place on ourselves. Fertility worship is not simply a way to renew Mother Earth and Father Sky’s primordial union—that is only the surface understanding for those outside the Temple complex.

“By interpreting the dreams and desires of your patrons, you will guide them to know
the self
and
to
appreciate
it
better. A society of people who feel good about who they are
,
is a society able to realize its own growing divinity.
Growth has obstacles to overcome, however. P
atrons often
cannot
articulate their needs clearly.
To help them do this, w
e must submit to them
sometimes
without understanding.

“Never forget
that in the union of worship, the submissive one has real power over the dominant. The relationship is a paradox. So the first question I bring to this dialogue is; what is the root cause of anxiety in most worshipers? The next is; how does our work help them find their own true worth for themselves?”

A female initiate
named Bida batted
heavy eyelids and
spoke
through
red
pout
y
lips
;
“Inside they
’
re
all
still little children
.
Married women feel the rejection of
both
fathers
,
who either left them or abused them as little girls
,
and of husbands
who
remind them of their fathers
. Men are
just
small boys trying to please their mothers.
Either way, the problem is marriage itself.
It’s an intolerable imposition.
I’ve never seen a truly happy one.”