The Grove(85)
“Aradin Teral believes fervently that Your Sacred Grove should be restored to the peaceful, pastoral beauty it was renowned for before the Shattering of Aiar, and though he is oathbound into the service of Holy Darkhan and Holy Dark Ana, believes fervently that Their Siblings’ Sacred Grove should be restored for the glory of Blessed Kata and Great Jinga,” she continued, sneaking another look at him. “Aradin and his Guide Teral are willing to dedicate time, effort, and many years to this task under Your Holy Keeper Saleria’s guidance. If this is Your will . . . please make Your mark or marks upon this prayer request sheet so that all who view it may know that this is truly Your divine will.
“If this is not favorable in Your Eyes, then let this page turn to ash, and Witch Aradin Teral will merely continue with his current assignments.” Lowering the page, she looked at him.
Aradin pressed his palms together in the near-universal gesture of prayer, and asked, “Holy Sister, will you pray for the granting of my request?”
Wryly amused, a soft huff of a laugh escaped her. She stared past his shoulder for a few moments, considering the merits of his prayer petition, then shrugged. “As it is a prayer that would only bring glory and benefit to Kata, Jinga, and the people of the Empire . . . I will pray for your request. I cannot guarantee that it will be accepted, but I will pray.”
“That is all one can ask,” Aradin reassured her. Rising, he bowed. “I should get back to work—”
The mirror chimed again. Sighing, she pushed to her feet and moved over to it. “Baol.”
Guardian Kerric Vo Mos reappeared inside the silvery rectangle. “Ah, Guardian Saleria. I spoke with a gentleman a few minutes ago . . .”
“Witch Aradin Teral. He has my permission to answer the scrying mirror in my absence, accept messages, and make minor promises,” Saleria stated. The mirror showed Kerric relaxing and nodding. Guardians tended to be protective over who had access not only to their own Fountains and so forth, but to their fellow Guardians’ resources as well. “What can the Guardian of the Grove do for the Guardian of the Tower today?”
“We were wondering if you had on hand, or could get ahold of, any copies of Katani prophecies that might be pertinent to the Netherhell problem,” Kerric said.
“Ah, sorry—I meant to go through mine and make copies for you,” Aradin told Saleria, joining her by the mirror. He nodded at the other Guardian as well. “But it’s about as easy to enchant two copies as it is to make just one. You should have them within a couple days, if that’s alright.”
“That will be fine. I’ve asked the other Guardians to look for pertinent local Seer prophecies . . . and had a request from the Guardian in Mendham to send her copies of everything for the Great Library,” Kerric added dryly. “I may be in love with a Mendhite of my own, but their national obsession with the written word can be a bit much at times.”
“You’re in love with a Mendhite?” Saleria asked, curious.
The smile that spread across Kerric’s face looked a bit dopey, even mushy, for a moment before he returned to his normal businesslike demeanor. “Myal the Mendhite . . . whom you’d know about if you ever accepted my offer of a scrycasting contract. She’s magnificent in action when she’s running a gauntlet, intelligent when she’s working behind the scenes . . . and for whatever Gods-blessed reason, she loves me just as much as I love her.” He flashed Saleria a grin and a flick of his gaze toward the man at her side. “I hope the two of you get to know such a wonderful feeling. With whomever, of course.”
Saleria blushed. Aradin coughed into his fist. Clearing his throat, he answered for both of them. “We’ll, ah, keep that in mind. Actually, I was just thinking a little while ago that all our prophecies should be copied and distributed among all the Guardians. Particularly the ones that deal with multiple locations. A demonic invasion will cause ripples of change across many lands, not just one or two.”
“Very true. The Tower will loan its magics toward the recopying and distribution of all collated prophecies and other such information of interest,” the curly-haired Guardian pledged, glancing off to the side and making a half-seen gesture. “I know Tipa’thia would rather it was her doing all of this centralized paperwork, but the Tower has the centralized connections.”
Saleria looked down at the prayer petition in her hands, looked up at the man at her side, then around at the Grove for a moment. She smiled softly. “On another note, Guardian . . . considering that I might finally have a solution to some local problems on my end . . . I might one day be able to take up that scrycasting offer of yours. If I actually do come to a point where I’ll have the time and energy to spare to watch your Tower adventurers.”