The oddly dressed queen chuckled. “Go with Priestess Ora, there; she’ll take you back to the amphitheater. As for Dominor, he’s busy unlocking the great doors between the amphitheater and the Fountain Hall. They’re only to be used by the Gods, of course; the rest of us mere mortals have been instructed to take the long way around—it seems he’s picked up at least a couple bad habits from Rydan since taking over the Guardianship of this place. Don’t worry, priestess; he’ll be along shortly to start getting ready for everything. If nothing else, you’ll see him when the Convocation begins.”
“I really should see him beforehand. I promised I would ask if he could figure out a way to pass along a scrying of the Convocation to Guardian Kerric, of the Tower,” Saleria said. “I figured everyone around the world will want to see a recording of what happens here, and as it’s Guardian Dominor’s Fountain . . .”
Queen Kelly blinked her blue eyes twice, then shrugged. “I suppose it makes sense you’d have some magical way of doing that.” Before Saleria could ask why she phrased it so oddly, the other woman lifted her wrist and tapped a strange bracelet on it. “I’ll call him and have him meet you in the amphitheater. If you’ll go with Orana?”
Turning, Saleria found herself face to face with a woman in a voluminous black Witchcloak, with green eyes and a braided coronet of hair just a little more golden than her own. The Witch smiled at her, eyes dipping down briefly over Saleria’s cloaked body and back in an assessing look. “So you’re the priestess our Brother Witch has fallen in love with?”
“If you mean Aradin Teral, then yes. Guardian Saleria, Keeper of the Sacred Grove of Katan,” Saleria introduced herself.
“Sir Orana Niel, Darkhanan Witch, High Priestess, and twofold Knight of Arbra . . . it’s a long story,” the other woman stated. She gestured behind her. “If we walk this way, it won’t take long to get back to the amphitheater. You may call me Ora if you like. While my strongest instinct is to help Queen Kelly organize everything her people will need for this Convocation, I have just been reminded a second time that I will be pretty much useless for anything but bringing two hundred forty-six more clergy through my Doorway.”
Saleria gestured as well. “Lead on. So long as I get to attend the Convocation of Gods and Man, you can put me wherever you wish.”
Orana chuckled. “Tempting. Actually, given how both you and Priest Etrechim—the representative from Fortuna—came through first . . . if you could stay by me and comfort the rest of the priests coming out of the Dark, that would be very useful. At least, until we get more helpers down here.”
“Alright,” Saleria agreed. Ducking into an alcove, the pair stepped into a vast, vaulted chamber lined with hundreds of benches arrayed in curved rows on one side of the hall and hundreds of thronelike stone chairs on the other half. There were two others here: a middle-aged man with gray-salted black hair, and a youngish woman with plain ash-brown hair. “If anyone actually retches on me, I’ll deal with it, but I reserve the right to go change clothes before you’re allowed to start the Convocation. Just for dignity’s sake. I know the Gods have seen every moment of my life, even at my worst, but this is a formal occasion.”
The other woman chuckled again, heading for the center of the amphitheater. “I think you’ll be a good match for Aradin Teral.” At Saleria’s questioning look, the Witch-priestess smiled at her. “I’ve become rather good at judging a person’s character over the years.”
“So you think I’ll be good for him?” Saleria asked. She guessed that, being a fellow Witch, this woman and her Guide must have been talking with Aradin and Teral all along. The name sounded familiar.
“I think he’ll be good for you. Ah, here we are. Lady Rora, Priest Etrechim of Fortuna, this is Priestess Saleria of Katan.”
The somewhat elderly man smiled and bowed. “Vershu’da, Clergy Saleria. Natuska gar shuden ona faishoudo sbesidin.”
“Uhh . . . beg your pardon?” Saleria asked, confused by his words.
“Oh, right. I speak via Ultra Tongue, which translates everything I say so that both of you can understand, and allows me to understand each of you,” Ora explained. “But that does not guarantee that either of you can understand each other. Etrechim simply greeted you, and said he is honored to share this momentous occasion with such a lovely representative as you.”
The other woman, Lady Rora, nodded. “Several of us on the Isle of Nightfall have drunk the Ultra Tongue potion, and we’d all be happy to translate in between carrying out our duties.”