Nadiah looked up slowly from the scroll she’d been studying—an ancient thing, written on parchment which was cracked and fragile with age. It was one of the oldest documents in the temple library…and yet, it was still less than a thousand years old. She’d been hoping to find something older, something from the time when Rast’s father had been the ruler of First World, but so far her search had turned up nothing.
“My Lady?” Lissa asked again and Nadiah realized she’d been lost in thought.
“Yes, of course,” she said, smiling and pushing the scroll carefully to one side. She wore white gloves made of grantham silk to handle it, as the curator of the library had instructed her. They felt like spider webs against her fingers and she drew them off with some difficulty, afraid she would rip their fragile fabric.
“Forgive me,” Lissa said, coming to stand at her side. “I know it is impertinent of me to address the Lysell in such an informal way but, well…” She twisted her fingers together, seeming unable to go on.
“Don’t be silly,” Nadiah said gently. To tell the truth, she’d been hoping Lissa would approach her. Rast was a wonderful mate but he was still a male and what Nadiah most wanted on First World was a good girl friend, someone she could gossip and have girl talk with. Though Lissa had somewhat stiff and formal manners, Nadiah thought she was mostly just shy and unsure of herself. She was sure if she could just get through the barrier the young high priestess had put around herself, she would find a wonderful and loyal friend. “I don’t mind—in fact, I’d love to talk,” she told Lissa, hoping to draw her out more.
“You are very kind.” The priestess bit her lip, her jade green eyes troubled. “But I fear you may not feel so kindly toward me when you hear what I have to say. I…I cannot say it to Challa Rast—I fear to. But I hoped that maybe you could talk to him on my behalf.”
“I’ll certainly do my best.” Reaching up, Nadiah took one of the girl’s hands in hers and drew her down to sit in the chair beside her. Luckily the library was completely deserted except for the two of them and the small, triangular table she’d been studying at had more than enough room for another person. “Now, what is it you have to say?”
“I…I…” Lissa took a deep breath. “I am not fit to be high priestess.”
“What?” Nadiah frowned. “What are you talking about?” Rast had made Lissa the high priestess after the old one had been demoted by none other than the Goddess herself. It had been a spur of the moment decision but Nadiah felt in her gut that it was right. So why was Lissa saying otherwise? “Why would you say that—think that?” she urged softly when the young priestess was still silent.
“I…I have had impure thoughts,” Lissa said in a rush. “Thoughts which I cannot deny or purge though I have tried over and over.” She looked down at her hands, her dark blonde hair, streaked with jade green that matched her eyes, falling around her flushed cheeks. “Forgive me, my Lady.”
“There’s nothing to forgive.” Gently, Nadiah raised her chin and saw that Lissa’s eyes were bright with unshed tears. “We all have those kinds of thoughts from time to time,” she said. “You don’t have to feel bad about it.”
“You don’t know the whole of it.” Lissa’s face was anguished as she spoke. “It is not only the thoughts themselves but the person I have been thinking of. He…he is my brother.” She buried her face in her hands, her shoulders shaking. “Oh, the shame! I have tried so hard to bury my feelings for him, to cast them into the sands of the Rainbow Desert and be rid of them forever but I cannot…I cannot.”
“Wait a minute,” Nadiah said reasonably. “Now, if I remember correctly, when you say ‘brother’ you just mean someone who was born into your own clan, is that right? There isn’t really any blood relation between you, you just happen to come from the same ‘home town’ as my friend, Sophie, would say.”
Lissa nodded but her eyes were still troubled. “If that was all there was to my story, it would be bad enough. The kinship ties of the clan, the fact that we bear the same mark…” She turned to Nadiah and lifted the hem of her simple white robe to show what she meant. There, high on her left inner thigh, Nadiah saw what looked like a ritual tattoo—a circle about as big as a coin surrounded by wavy lines. “I am a member of the Sun Clan of the Touch Kindred,” Lissa said softly. “As such, I could have been mated to a male of the Moon Clan or the Star Clan with honor. I could even have chosen a male from the Wind or Water or Fire Clan, though they are considered beneath us as they have almost no Touch ability.”