Page 14 of Ties of Shadow

We gathered the supplies and headed down the stairs and up the center hill. The temple stood at the top, the home and ceremonialcenter of the region’s seers. Besides meting out daily prophecies, they sometimes acted as judges, mediating disputes, resolving conflicts, and assisting with peacemaking. Of course, they were present at the bonding ceremonies too. Besides those who attended the balls, tended to the queen, or left their daily reports throughout the castle, I hadn’t interacted much with them. I’d never had a need, especially since I would never be bonding.

A few soldiers were posted outside the temple entrance. Within the threshold, Prince Leon and King Harold stood alongside three seers. Twenty guards gathered around them, lining the walls inside the main room. The clouds over the sun darkened the world with a sickly light. Most faces were dulled by the flickering light of the large pyre in the center of the room. As we entered, Lord Brynett passed me the lead rope of a black and white goat. I frowned but didn’t question it as we made our way to the center cauldron that was held above the flames. Already boiling and billowing, the bitter smoke seared my nostrils and eyes.

The king stood to the side, and I smiled at him as I always did, curtsying with grace before him and his son. The king turned to sit in a tall-backed chair. Behind the seers, a carved stand held a massive leather-bound book. The king’s gaze pierced me, freezing me in place before he shifted his attention to my father.

“All the supplies are here?”

“They are,” my father answered. “Fresh as requested, as well as the potion. I wasn’t sure about certain specifics since I wasn’t given the final instructions, but we gathered everything on the list.”

The seers surged forward and grabbed the bowls from us. The eldest seer, the leader, her head topped with an ornate, decorative hat, reached for the potion we had just finished. The seven seers circled the cauldron and set down the bowls. At some unseen signal, they graspedhands and began to dance slowly around the cauldron chanting in an ancient tongue. One by one—in various pauses of the chanting—a seer would take a bowl, lift it toward the dim light of the setting sun, then pour it into the liquid.

The bluebuds made the smoke glitter with a crackling cascade of sparks. The willow exuded a smell that reminded me of the riverside eddies. One seer tossed in bark from the razewa tree, and the cauldron ceased boiling for ten long seconds before erupting in bubbles and grumbling like thunder. Each substance produced a unique result.

Finally, they poured in the potion. After the plume of purple smoke had cleared, the head seer dipped a ladle into the brew, poured a small portion of the liquid into a bowl, and approached me.

The seers chanted together:

“The ruin of kingdoms from weak ones come,

but bind, entwine, and tie them some.

As day from night, the brightness fights,

A sacrifice will make things right.

Lest the deep reject the vile ones

that slink beneath and this way run.

The stars and sun turn black as pitch,

and light must fight to cure that which

has doomed us all to dark decay,

Still, love must reign and find a way.”

I frowned. A handful of guards had clustered closer at my back. A rumble from the boiling pot vibrated through the room. One seer painted a symbol on the goat’s forehead. Then she turned to me with the brush in her hand.

I stepped back, my voice wavering as tension gripped my stomach. “F-Father? My prince? Your Highness?”

“It’s only a bit of paint, my dear,” the king grumbled. “Let them paint you.”

“Yes, Your Highness.” My mouth turned dry as ash. But I held still as the cool paint splashed upon my forehead.

“Prosperity requires sacrifice,” the head seer announced to the quiet room. “The weak must be removed, like chaff from the wheat. The weakest among us has weakened us as well.” I blinked and stared at my prince. His fist pulsed, and he nearly vibrated where he stood. His father clamped down his wrist as if to still him. “The ruin of kingdoms comes, but light must find a way to save us from the dark decay. To stop the evil, to stop the death.” She smiled at me benevolently. “Your sacrifice will save us all.”

Father shifted back and forth on his feet, rubbing at the scar on his wrist. What sacrifice was she talking about?

The seer crooned. “The prince and king lead the nation with light and hope. A sacrifice is needed to make things right. I shall take a hair now.”

I looked at the prince, who nodded slowly. He bit his lip, his eyes a bit wild as they flashed between me, the seer and the king. He shifted his weight.

“Y-Yes.”

The old woman approached again and chanted as she plucked one hair from me and another from the goat and tossed them both into the vat of boiling liquid. The potion hissed; a cloud of smoke flashed brightly before it dissipated, leaving green blind spots in my vision.

The seer canted her head toward the prince. “It is time to ask.”

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