Page 196 of The Priory of the Orange Tree

“What if I did?”

Chassar scrutinized her face. His mouth was a fess in the depths of his beard.

“You heard the blasphemy of the Inysh,” he said. “You know what they have done to the memory of the Mother.”

“You told me to get close to her. Is it any wonder if I did?” Ead shot back. “You left me to fend for myself in that court for almost a decade. I was an outsider. A convert. If I had not found people to hold on to, to make the wait endurable—”

“I know. And I will be sorry for it for the rest of my days.” He laid a tender hand on her shoulder. “You are tired. And angry. We can speak again in the morning.”

She wanted to retort, but this was Chassar, who had helped the Sons of Siyati raise her, who had made her gurgle with laughter when she was small, who had watched over her when Zala had died.

“Nairuj told me that the Prioress will give me another task soon,” Ead said. “I want to know what it is.”

Chassar pressed a finger between his eyes and rubbed. She stood akimbo, waiting.

“You shielded Sabran from Fýredel almost nine years after leaving Lasia. That deep bond with the tree—one that can reach across time and distance—is a rare thing. Very rare.” He sank back on to the bed. “The Prioress means to take advantage of it. She intends to send you to the lands beyond the Gate of Ungulus.”

Her heart thumped. “For what purpose?”

“A sister brought us rumors from Drayasta. A group of pirates are claiming Valeysa laid an egg somewhere in the Eria during the Grief of Ages,” Chassar said. “The Prioress wants you to find and destroy it. Before it can hatch.”

“Ungulus.” Ead could no longer feel most of her body. “I might be away for years.”

“Yes.”

The Gate of Ungulus was the edge of the known world. Beyond it, the southern continent was uncharted. The few explorers who had ventured there had spoken of a waste without end, which was named the Eria—glittering salt flats, brutal sun, and not a drop of water. If any of them had made it to the other side, they had never returned to tell the tale.

“There have always been stories circulating Drayasta.” Ead walked slowly toward the balcony. “By the Mother, what have I done to deservemoreexile?”

“This is a mission of true urgency,” Chassar said, “but I sense she chose you for it not only because of your endurance, but because this task would return your attention to the South.”

“You mean my loyalty is in question.”

“No,” Chassar said, gentler. “She simply believes you might benefit from this journey. It will give you a chance to remember your purpose and cleanse yourself of impurities.”

The Prioress wanted her as far away from Virtudom as possible so she would not be able to see the turmoil that would soon break out there. She hoped that by the time Ead returned, she would no longer believe that anywhere but the South mattered.

“There is one other choice.”

Ead looked over her shoulder. “Out with it.”

“You could offer her a child.” Chassar held her gaze. “We must have more warriors for the Priory. The Prioress believes any child of yours will inherit your bond with the tree. Do this, and she may send Nairuj south instead, once she has given birth.”

Her jaw hurt from the effort it took to rein in a joyless laugh.

“For me,” she said, “that is no choice.”

She strode from the room. “Eadaz,” Chassar called after her, but she did not look back. “Where are you going?”

“To see her.”

“No.” He was down the corridor and in front of her in moments. “Eadaz, look at me. The decision is made. Fight her, and she will only extend your time away.”

“I am not a child that I need to be sent away to think about what I have done wrong. I am—”

“What is happening?”

Ead turned. The Prioress, resplendent in plum-colored silk, stood at the entrance to the corridor.

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