Page 20 of Sightwitch
Did I mention their resilience too? I believe I spent my first week at the Convent crying. Yet the girls offered only a few mournful looks after that first bout of tears at the Sorrow. Since then, they have both been chin up and gaze forward.
But Icannottake them on. The doors to each kingdom must be finished. Lady Baile and the others are depending on me—wholenationsare depending on me.
And each day that passes without a solution is one more chance for the Exalted Ones to discover us. To discover me.
Two little girls are a distraction I simply cannot afford.
Yet I also cannot seem to drop the notion.
“What are those?” Lisbet asked when I pulled out my taro cards at the end of midday meal. Around us buzzed the voices of my Sisters, broken up by the clack of wooden spoons against clay bowls.
It is such a habit. Whenever I need to make a decision, my fingers move for my pocket. I withdraw the cards, a question spinning so I can ask Sirmaya directly.
“These are taro cards,” I told her. “You know the game?” At her nod, I explained, “I tied Sirmaya’s magic to these cards so that I may read the future.”
“Is that the Sight?” Cora asked.
For half a tight breath, the old shame swelled. But then it was gone. I had been a Sightless Sightwitch Sister for so long now, the claws of that truth had worn down to nubs. “No,” I said. “I don’t have visions like they have. I cannot look at something and recall it in perfect detail, and I cannot access the memories of the dead.”
“But that is what the Sight is,” Lisbet insisted, and I found myself floundering.
How could I explain this to a child? How could I succinctly describe the magic, the spells, and the all-knowing power of the Sleeper? This was not a Sight that I had been given but one that I had chosen to have.
Nadya came to my rescue. “There are signs in the world all around us, girls. Clues to what Sirmaya, our sleeping Goddess, needs us to do. If you know how to look, you can find these hints without the Sight.”
“There are no coincidences,” Cora asserted, her expression grave. A student reciting her latest lesson.
I couldn’t help it. I smiled.
“Precisely,” Nadya continued, offering me a smug side eye. “And the cards allow Sister Eridysi to see those portents more easily. Each card has a meaning, and the magic that binds the cards to Sirmaya dictates which card she will draw.” Nadya waved to me. “Show them.”
So I did.
Three cards I plucked, as is my usual method when a question plagues. One card for my question; one card for the action I must take; and one card for the future.
The Twins. Lady Fate. The Empress.
“Ah,” I breathed as the meaning became instantly clear—and as Nadya clapped her hands, entirely too overjoyed.
“Praise be to Sirmaya,” she declared, looking first to Cora, then to Lisbet, and finally to me. “It seems you three have been matched by the Sleeper herself—and as we know, Dysi dearest, there is no changing what is meant to be.”
LATER
After I resurfaced from the Crypts, the Rook pecked and pulled at my tunic. A sign he wanted me to follow him.
I feared one of the Nubrevnans had somehow wandered through the glamour … Yet at the same time, I alsohopedone of the Nubrevnans had somehow wandered through the glamour.
Rule 37, the Rule of the Accidental Guest, is very clear, but I would have savored every moment of conversation before I carried it out.
It wasn’t until the Rook led me directly to the ladder at the lookout’s nest that I realized who had come.
A supplicant. Someone was at the Supplicant’s Sorrow.
Never have I climbed that ladder so fast. I was panting by the time I reached the top, and not from exertion. From excitement. From hunger.
A supplicant had come! Perhaps … perhaps it was someone I could speak to. Perhaps, even, it was someone who could stay!
Several minutes I waited, staring at the tree line beyond the Sorrow’s pond, until at last, a Nomatsi woman and child appeared. They were both pale as the moon, their hair coal black. Huge, teardrop eyes on the girl. Deeper-set eyes on the woman, who walked with resolve, the yellow grass snapping beneath her feet. The girl had to half run, half walk to keep up.
