Shortly after the shrine the branch we were on split into two. The right path looked to continue forward without descending further while the left kept descending, quite steeply, and lost any pretense it had grown naturally. In fact, it transformed into a covered, living stairway. Small branches had sprouted tightly together from either side of the path and curved upwards so that their needles wove together and formed a blue-black and purple screen. The stairs didn’t look carved or lashed to the branch, but rather like a river could mold stone, some great force or will had worn the steps into being. A shiver ran up my spine as I caught sight of the statue at the entrance to the covered staircase.
It was the same tall and elegant woman the statues in Flickermark had depicted just before Fellen and I took the path to the chamber with the goddess’s puzzle. She sat with her feet casually dangling over the edge of the branch while her right hand held a long drape of needles from obscuring the staircase. However, the statue’s face was turned toward the split in the path, a conspirator’s grin turning up the corners of her mouth. It felt like she was staring right at me. The simple dress she had worn in Flickermark had also been replaced with flowing robes. If it wasn’t for the fact that entire statue was made out gray stone, I could have sworn she was about to shake the long hair pooling around her waist out of the way before rising and slipping down the odd passage.
The others noticed the passageway and statue about the same I did and I heard Loclen’s quiet intake breath before she murmured, “The Beloved.”
Prevna and I both turned to stare at her, but I wasn’t sure if Wren heard. She was busy hurrying toward the staircase and reasoning with Chirp as the little bird had flitted ahead and was now determinedly rooting around in the needles the statue was holding back.
Prevna gave Loclen a searching look and demanded, “Have you seen her?”
Loclen shook her head though her eyes were caught on the statue. “Not in person. But there is another statue in the Arches. It’s tall, much taller than this one, tall enough to see over the gorge, and made of ice that never melts. It looks like she’s resting. Every year during the Dark Night celebrations my tribe’s Grandmother would gather us together in front of it and tell of the First and Last Wave. In the tale, it is only through Beloved’s reasoning with the goddess that many tribes were saved from a mountain sized wall of ocean water. Now, her back saves us from the Lady Blue’s temper.”
I made a mental note to get the full tale from Loclen in the near future and decided against mentioning the statues I had seen in Flickermark. It made sense that they had been of Her Beloved rather than a random woman, though it was also disturbing to picture Her Beloved coming upon amused and weeping versions of herself within the bowels of that maze.
Prevna was about ask another question when Loclen spoke again, more to herself rather than either of us, “I hadn’t thought to find another sacred statue here.”
Prevna’s eyebrows rose at the other girl and she seemed to change direction from what she was going to say before Loclen murmured to herself. “You thought there wouldn’t be images of the Beloved in the center of Her territory when you have one on the edge of it?”
Loclen rolled her eyes, slightly exasperated, “Not on some random path in the seedling area!”
A sputter of outrage came from the staircase and we looked over to find Chirp now pecking and scratching at the statue’s hand holding the pine needles while Wren tried to snatch him up without hurting a wing. He avoided her attempts and chirped something at her. From the shocked and annoyed expression on her face, whatever he had said wasn’t very kind.
My suspicion was confirmed when she shot back, “I could find a worm after a rainstorm if I wanted to! You’re the one with only songs in his head! Stop pecking at that statue—it’s disrespectful!”
Chirp didn’t stop. In fact, he redoubled his efforts and, just as I was debating the merits of going over and trying to help Wren, something fell from the statue’s hand before hitting the branch and rebounding into the open air. Chirp swooped after the small object and caught it in his beak before returning to Wren and landing on her shoulder, chest puffed up with pride.
Prevna, Loclen, and I hurried over to them and had to crowd together for there to be enough room for everyone to see, though I did my best to keep as much space around me as I could. Chirp dropped the object into Wren’s waiting palm and I leaned forward. She held a deep blue stone, polished to a nearly impossible sheen and spherical shape, with a bit of hardened sap clinging to its back, chipped where Chirp had broken it loose.
Chirped hopped on Wren’s shoulder and warbled another note, clearly expecting praise for his unexpected find. She huffed out a breath, and gave him an indulgent smile and quick head rub. He puffed up even more and seemed to strike a pose.
Loclen also offered Chirp a smile. “Smart bird.” She focused back on the marble. “Why do you think it was hidden?”
Prevna fell into what I was starting to recognize as one of her thinking faces—held tilted to the side, jaw set, and eyes focused on some middle distance. “It could have to do with those paths blocked by guards or some training we haven’t got to yet.” She blinked away her concentration and shrugged. “You could ask Jin.”
Wren smiled again and I couldn’t decide if it was genuine. She closed her hand over the marble and slipped it into a pouch. “That’s a good idea. I’ll check with her and see if this guy”—Chirp was tapped affectionately on the head—”simply found something pretty or not.”
I doubted someone would take the time to hide a stone simply because it was pretty, but I didn’t press her. We only had so much time to explore and wasting time speculating about a stone that all of us likely had the same level of information on didn’t seem like the best way to spend it.
I would have pushed ahead down the tunnel but the other girls were in the way, so I gestured instead. “Let’s keep going.”
Prevna nudged me in the side. “Nothing to say about Wren and Chirp’s special find?”
I grimaced at her. “You already said everything. We shouldn’t waste time standing and talking when there’s clearly more to explore.”
Wren straightened her back. “Yeah, let’s keep going.”
Loclen made a noise of assent and turned to head down the tunnel. Wren and Prevna followed her while I took up the rear. Wren struck up a conversation with Loclen about stealth and their weapons training. Prevna joined in with a few comments and tips of her own, but it only took a handful of minutes for the conversation to peter out.
The branches and needles closed over our heads. The light from the entrance and a few holes in the foliage helped us see for the first few minutes, but then the stairs started to curve away from the entrance and the branches making the tunnel grew thicker. Despite the growing light outside, the tunnel dimmed to gray semi-darkness before fading all the way into pitch black. And none of us could make sparks of fire. The others’ conversation faded as they were forced to focus on their footing and feeling their way.
I focused on keeping my feet moving and breathing steady.
The shape of the tunneled staircase was painfully similar to a tent—and we were leaving the only entrance I knew of behind. But they didn’t need to know about this particular weakness of mine and it was something I had experience pushing through on my own. I didn’t need comfort. Besides, logically, the tunnel would have an exit leading to open air to match the entrance. There was just no telling how far away that exit was.
I clenched my jaw, arms wrapped around my middle, as darkness closed around us and fought to keep the fluttery panic in my stomach contained. Even without seeing the walls around me, I could feel them like a pressure weighing down my back and shoulders. Couldn’t slip, couldn’t stop, couldn’t let myself think or I would be flooded with memories I associated the claustrophobic sensation with. One shuffling step and then another. Down and down and down.
My left foot caught the next stair wrong as the staircase abruptly changed direction and I stepped too close to the stair’s edge. I slipped. Flung one arm wide to catch myself with a gasp and landed hard on my butt. Sounds of shock echoed my own and just like that I was back in another tunnel with uneven footing.
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Curled up, legs folded to my chest, eyes squeezed shut tight. The shocked and then irritated voices of tribe members after Mother refused to let me wear a blindfold into Flickermark’s exit tunnel. I had tried to be brave, be the big girl she snapped I needed to be, but there were too many eyes pressing in around and flickering with odd shadows in the tribe members’ torch light. And I had just tripped on the open, screaming mouth of a man being set on by a bane pack. I didn’t want to see anymore. Wanted Mother to pick me up in her strong arms and carry me the rest of the way even if I was going to be punished after that for making her carry me and the twins. No supper and a spanking were better than seeing whatever other horrific scenes the tunnel held.
But the herders behind us were getting impatient and Mother was hissing at me to stop causing trouble and embarrassing her and Father had to be standing somewhere behind her with lots of heavy bags weighing him down. I needed to be a big girl. A daughter they could be proud of and that the tribe members couldn’t point to as evidence of how troublesome and ungrateful healers were. A daughter that never caused her mother to look at her in disappointment.
So, I unclenched my arms from around my legs and jerkily tried to dash the tears leaking out as I worked myself to open my eyes. I wouldn’t scream, even though one itched dryly at my throat. I would get up and just focus on the twins on Mother’s back and walk until I wasn’t in the tunnel. I could do it. I was a big girl.
I opened my eyes.
Darkness, different from the darkness behind my eyelids in the tunnel, filled my vision.
That wasn’t right.
My breath came fast and short. That was right, but I remembered seeing dozens of eyes staring back at me when I opened my eyes. Flickering lights and stone horrors. Mother’s furious face as she dragged me to my feet.
Not…not simple darkness. Not shuffling footsteps and voices I couldn’t focus on enough to make out what they were saying. I didn’t remember those things.
I drew in a shuddering breath as realization slowly dawned. Right. The stone passageway was just a memory. I wasn’t there. I was seven years older—no longer that terrified child. I was exploring the Seedling Palace with a group of…acquaintances and there were no horrors to see here. Only a covered staircase that lacked lighting.
Slowly, I started putting my awareness back together, separating memory from fact and firmly pressing what was memory down into the forgotten depths of my mind. It was no help to me now.
Someone tripped over me and fell hard with a curse. That snapped me fully back to the present and I recognized Prevna’s voice as she pushed herself back up. “Gimley?” And then another curse as she scrambled back. “Storms, I’m not supposed to touch you.”
That statement struck me as odd, but the fear of slipping back into another memory with the tunnel still pressing all around was more than enough to distract me from it. So, instead, I stupidly asked, “Prevna?”
I sensed her shift closer to me. “Do you know where you are? Can you stand? I didn’t hurt you, did I?”
Another odd question as was the stressed fear in her voice—just enough to root a suspicion in my gut despite the claustrophobia muffling my thinking. Still, there would be time enough to press her once we were out of this cursed tunnel.
“I can stand.” I levered myself up to prove it.
“Good. Can you hang onto my tunic?”
Feeling a fool, and not willing to feel even more pathetic, I snapped, “I’m not a child. Just walk, Prevna.”
She mulled between her options for several moments before responding. “Fine. Let’s go.”
We shuffled down the steps, carefully navigating the stair’s quick corner. After seven steps Prevna called out to Loclen and Wren. “I found her. You can keep going.”
Loclen called back, “What happened?”
I cut into Prevna’s hesitant pause. “Slipped.”
Wren’s voice slipped through the dark, alarmed, “Are you alright?”
“I’m fine.”
My tone didn’t leave much opening for more questions, so when Prevna prompted them again they started back down the stairs. I’m not sure how long it took us to reach the exit or how many steps there were. I lost track as my attention narrowed back down to not slipping as each new step presented itself. Easier not to get swept back into the memories and fear that way.
I did notice when the tunnel began to lighten with light from the exit, however, as did the others. All of our steps sped up until we burst free from covered staircase. We found ourselves on a platform that was like a much wider version of the outlook—and rather than seeing beyond the Seedling Palace we got to see what was in the inner circle the copse of trees made.
A round nest made up amber sap and impossibly long branches dominated the space between the tree tips though there was no way reach it except for the ice vines that curled out from the trees to support it. They looked too thin support a body’s weight, much less the sphere of strategically placed wood and sap. Here and there balconies opened up the sides of the nest, but otherwise it was an artful fortress of wood, accessible only by sky or shadow.
The goddess’s residence.
A few of tales with the Seedling Palace mentioned it, but I never thought there would be a viewing platform in the seedlings’ area to look upon it. The goddess—or the Beloved—could be within it even now. The sheer proximity of it was enough to exchange the last trembling fear in my limbs from my trial in the staircase for shaky awe. It was one thing to be within the jumble of branches of the Seedling Palace and recognize that the nest—the goddess—had to be nearby and quite another to actually look upon it.
We lost more time staring up at the wonder of it, bunched up against the platform’s railing, until Loclen made an uncharacteristic garbled noise and pointed. We followed her finger to a platform almost out of sight from the nest’s curve. But the rightmost side of that balcony was still visible and, leaning against the railing there, was the woman whose statue we had just seen at the beginning of the staircase.
Her dress, high necked and sleek, was such a vibrant, rich red that it could only be goddess made. The unusual color and the casual, confident way she broke convention drew the eye and held it. Red was an accent color that normally only Grandmothers wore; red was for spilled blood and offerings. I didn’t doubt the Beloved knew exactly what statement she making by wearing such a bright shade of it from neck to foot. Black hair contrasted sharply with the dress as it spilled down to her hips, only contained in three tight braids over her left ear. Red and white decorated her ear, most likely an ear cuff but she was too far away for me to make out details. Pale skin and strong features. Lips as dark as her hair. A mark coiled from the corner of her right eye before disappearing down into her dress collar. She looked like she could be a handful of years older than Rawley, at most, but history and something about the way she held herself belied that impression.
I stared, barely daring to breath. Barely staying on my feet.
This was the Beloved. The woman who first earned the goddess’s trust, the one who opened the way for humans to live in Her territory. A legend and myth made flesh. I wasn’t sure I would ever earn the honor to lay eyes on her even once I became a full fledged whisper woman. And yet there she was, unmistakable, on a random morning leaning on a balcony and seeming to listen to the wind as it whispered by.
The High Priestess, Lithunia, stepped out from the nest and onto the balcony. She was still as pale as I remembered her being from the goddess’s procession. If the Beloved was darkness and blood, then the High Priestess was snow and shadow. Her dark gray dress also broke convention as it wasn’t the typical whisper women robes, but it gave her the advantage of showing off the large swirling mark covering her ribs on her left side. She touched the Beloved’s hand, drawing her attention in a familiar way, and they spoke for a few moments before sweeping back inside.
We waited, eerily still, afraid to break the moment and hoping against hope that they would reappear. After several interminable minutes I saw Wren lick her lips out of the corner of my eye before she asked, breathless, “Did that really just happen?”
Loclen swallowed. “We saw the Beloved. It—it wasn’t a dream.”
“And the High Priestess,” Prevna put in. There was a short pause before she added, “I—they—I can’t believe that we actually saw them.”
They fell silent again as we all tried to process what had just happened. One part of me ruthlessly acknowledged that it had probably been an insignificant moment for the pair, that we hadn’t even registered on their periphery, but the rest of me was still bound up in unaccustomed awe. I tried to rid myself of it as quickly as possible, disliking how sluggish and vulnerable the wonder made me. The association with the goddess’s procession after seeing the High Priestess also pushed me to recover myself faster. Between that memory and what had happened on the stairs memories of her tongue lashings and lessons were entirely to close to the surface.
As it was, I was the first to tear my eyes away from the balcony and focus on the other sights the platform offered. I watched as whisper women made their way across crisscrossing branches below, all the trees intertwined in their lower branches to create a web of intersections. A hub of easy travel for those who wanted to take a short cut across the grove, but who also didn’t want to, or couldn’t, travel with travel. Many fire starters also hurried across the paths as they worked to complete a variety of mundane tasks. I could also see a few other viewing platforms peaking out at different heights in the open air around the goddess’s nest and it was clear that their purpose, as well as the one we were on, was to see the goddess’s home in all its glory.
At long last the others also pulled themselves from their shock and reveries, and we made our way back up the covered stairs as there was no other way to leave the platform. They made sure I wasn’t last this time—Prevna took up the rear—but I held myself together through the dark climb. I refused to lose control of myself a third time in less than an hour.
We didn’t explore down remaining area where the path forked before the tunnel. Didn’t explore more at all, even though we had the time. Seeing the Beloved had made such things feel trivial and I think we all wanted time to be alone and pull ourselves fully back together before training. So, instead we made our way back to the thin paths and safely—if a bit dazedly—crossed them. Prevna mentioned getting back together to finish exploring in the future and the others agreed and I held my silence, which they all noted but didn’t press. Then I made my way to the nook before methodically working to shut away the lingering awe and terror from the events of the morning, so I would be able to focus during the day’s training.