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was proving to be an adept and charming student.
Whether Auraya was the reason for Leiard s disappearance or not, it appeared
she still wanted to encourage peace and tolerance between Circlians and
Dreamweavers. This latest offer to start a hospice in Jarime in which
Dreamweavers and healer priests and priestesses worked together was both
startling and well-timed. Circlians had seen the good Dreamweavers had done
for the wounded on the battlefield. The heathens had proven their worth to the
healer priests and priestesses. It made sense that the best push toward peace and
tolerance would be in the direction of healing.
But what s the catch? Arleej said aloud.
Neeran looked at her and smiled crookedly. The catch?
Yes. Will Dreamweavers decide the Circlian way of life is better and leave us
to join them?
The old man chuckled. Or will Circlians decide they prefer our way of life, and
we ll have too many new students to teach?
She picked up her glass, took a sip, then set it down again. Just how closely will
our people and theirs work? If they have suddenly decided that our medicines
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and healing methods are worthwhile, will they want to adopt them?
Probably. But we have never kept them a secret before.
No. And I doubt their interest or tolerance extends to our mind-linking skills.
Neeran s nose wrinkled. There is still a law against dream-linking in most of
Northern Ithania. Dreamweavers should avoid linking in any way with their
patients if Circlians are observing. I doubt the White s intention is to trick us into
criminal acts so they can lock us away, but we should still exercise caution in
these matters.
Yes, she agreed. She turned to regard him. It sounds as if you are advising me
to agree to the offer.
He met her eyes, then looked away. Slowly he began to nod. Yes. But& seek
the agreement of the others.
Very well. We will vote on it. I will dream link with leaders in other lands
tonight. She picked up her glass and handed it to Neeran. I will need a clear
mind.
He took the glass from her, but didn t drink. Instead he looked at her, an odd
expression on his face.
I have a terrible feeling that we face a moment of great change. Either we will
miss a wonderful opportunity to prove our worth to the people of Northern
Ithania or we will make ourselves redundant.
Arleej shook her head. Even if the Circlians surpass us in healing, even if they
learn to heal through dreams and mind links, they can never be all that we are.
Those that seek the truth will always come to us.
Yes. He smiled and raised the glass. Here s to link memories.
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6
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A week had not improved the mood of the Servants. Reivan found herself
wondering several times a day if their coldness was directed only at her.
Conversations ended when she drew near. When she approached a Servant with
a question or request she was dealt with quickly and dismissively. Sometimes
when she passed two Servants in a corridor, one would lean across to the other
and murmur something.
She told herself she was simply not used to the Servants ways. The Servants of
the monastery she had grown up in had been quiet and reserved, but she had
become accustomed to more stimulating company in recent years. The Thinkers
might not have respected her, but she could always engage some of them in
conversation or at least a debate. She was used to being among livelier,
friendlier people, that was all.
Dedicated Servant Drevva and the other Servants who were testing her
knowledge and abilities were treating her fairly, acknowledging her strengths
and not making too much of her weaknesses, even her obvious lack of Skills.
The other hopeful entrants to the Sanctuary were politely friendly in that way
young people were to those not of the same age.
The Sanctuary baths more than made up for her cramped little room. Cleanliness
was considered essential for a Servant of the Gods, and an hour s soaking,
scouring and rinsing each morning was deemed necessary for every man and
woman. Feeling refreshed, Reivan dressed in the plain clothes the Sanctuary had
provided her with, then stepped out of the room. As she passed a doorway she
overheard a snatch of conversation from the steam-wreathed soaking room
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within.
& ordain Imenja s pet.
She passed the tests? I thought she was unskilled.
The order came from the Second Voice. I m to allow her through so long as she
passed the other tests.
Reivan froze. Imenja s pet? They had to be talking about her. None of the other
entrants had any relationship with Imenja, as far as she knew.
I can t understand it, the first voice added. With a shock, Reivan recognized
Dedicated Servant Drevva. What s the point of making her a Servant when she
has no magical ability? Why not just make her a counsellor?
Reivan s stomach sank.
I heard it s what she asked for as reward.
What! Being a Servant isn t something to be handed out like sweets to a good
child!
Hmm, a third voice said. This makes me like her even less. If she was meant
to be a Servant, she d have been born with more ability.
The sound of approaching footsteps drew Reivan s attention back to her
immediate surroundings. Aware that anyone seeing her lingering by the door
would suspect her of spying and she obviously did not need to give the
Servants any more reasons to hate her she continued on.
Back in her room, she sat down on the edge of the bed and sighed.
So I wasn t being overly suspicious after all. They are treating me differently.
And it s because I m unskilled.
Which wasn t a surprise, really. Being Skilled was what set them apart. Just as
being clever gave the Thinkers their standing in society. It was ironic to discover
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that the Servants were as insecure about their superiority over others as the
Thinkers were.
It s their weakness, she thought. Not a weakness I can easily take advantage of,
however. I m not here to best the Servants at some challenge. I m here to join
them.
The footsteps of someone in the passage outside her door suddenly stopped, and
she saw something slide under her door. Rising, she stooped to pick it up.
It was a small scroll, slightly squashed where it had been forced under the door.
She chuckled as she saw it was addressed to Servant Reivan Reedcutter. I m
not a Servant yet, she thought, amused.
Turning the scroll over, she felt her amusement evaporate as she saw the seal of
the Thinkers. Breaking it, she spread open the scroll and began to read.
Servant Reivan Reedcutter
It has been reported to us that you have entered the Sanctuary
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