Serina smiled. It was a tight expression, evoking yet another wave of sympathy from the Katani priestess at her side, for Saleria did not like Ilaiea. The priestess had to respect the older woman as a fellow Guardian, and even trust her to do her job well, but Saleria did not like her.
From the way her hands clasped and clenched behind the small of her back, tugging on the end of her long, pale braid, it was clear Serina didn’t particularly like her mother, either. “Unlike you, I am not confined to any one land . . . or any one role, Mother. A few days ago, I became a mother myself. A few years ago, I became a Guardian. And in just a few hours, maybe even a few bare minutes . . . I will become a personal witness to the restoration of the Convocation of Gods and Man.”
Ilaiea looked like she had swallowed a small, live fish, one that was was wriggling on its way down. Saleria carefully bit her tongue behind closed lips, not wanting to laugh at this inopportune moment. Serina wasn’t through, after all.
“During said Convocation, I will politely and respectfully ask Brother and Sister Moons, holy siblings and Patron Deities of the Moonlands, as to whether or not Reina’s Mark of the Singer is a true Mark. I will do so on your behalf, with the priest or priestess being collected from the Moonlands as we speak being a second witness to this momentous event . . . and then I or he or she will get back to you eventually . . . because I don’t think we’ll be able to use the Fountainway to communicate with anyone for who knows how many days the Convocation will last. According to the old scrolls I read, this could take up to a month. In the meantime, it would be best if you treated Reina as if this were the will of the Moons . . . for They will be watching her, if she is indeed a new Singer.”
She smiled at her mother, and snapped her fingers. The mirror link stayed active. Belatedly, Saleria muttered her power-word for ending such things, and the image of Ilaiea on a plain blue background vanished, replaced with a reflection of the three of them and the shimmering, pastel energies of the Fountain in the background.
“Well,” Dominor muttered, “that was a bit different. Is she always that unpleasant? Because every time I’ve chatted with her . . .”
“The Inoma of the Moonlands? Arch mage and sovereign queen and who knows what else rolled into one?” Serina replied tersely. “I’d be more likely to die of shock if she were ever not arrogant. The desire to actually learn and use my magic instead of having it bound into our nation’s many protections wasn’t the only thing that drove me out of the safety and secrecy of the Moonlands.”
A deep breath, and she let it go. Literally and visibly, for she had started tugging on her long plait. Releasing it, she took another breath and let that go, too.
“But I am in a wonderful nation with a magnificent husband, two adorable little melons who are no longer making me feel bloated and cranky . . . just sleepless and cranky . . . and I don’t have to deal with her if I don’t want to.”
Saleria started to say something, then reviewed what it was and changed it around. “I was about to say I wish you could’ve had a more caring mother like mine . . . but if yours hadn’t driven you out of your homeland, then you wouldn’t have gained a wonderful husband and your lovely twins. So I hope you take it in the spirit it was meant, and not a wish to ruin what you now have.”
Serina smiled wryly. “I do understand, thank you.”
“I guess in the end it turned out for the best. Didn’t it, my love?” Dominor asked his wife.
“Yes, my swaybacked donkey.” Serina said it fondly, as if the words were a form of endearment. Guardian Dominor grinned and kissed her briefly. The box in his hands and the infants slung in front of both their chests got in the way for anything more than that.
Saleria held up her hands. “I’ll take that, if you like.”
“Yes, please. And thank you, Saleria,” Dominor added, handing her the heavy chest. “It’s good to know we have friends in Katan—we may seem lighthearted at the moment, but the reason why we’re reconvening the Convocation so quickly is because Duke Finneg, the Councillor for Conflict Resolution, has kidnapped Kelly’s blood-bound sister, Hope, and done something to hide her from all scrying eyes. He’s joined forces with a group of Mendhites who want to steal away the ability to create the Convocation from us, including a fight up in Nightfall Castle shortly before you and the others started to arrive. But with the aid of the Gods on our side, we should be able to find and rescue Morganen’s lady . . . but I fear with the political might of Katan arrayed against us, it may indeed take an act of the Gods.”