Page 79 of Wind Rider

“I’m not speaking of the kind of storm that brings rain,” said Dove solemnly.

“Well, then, let’s get these offerings dropped off and gather the Pack,” Mari said as Jenna and Isabel went pale. “I don’t like the sound of a metaphoric storm.”

The young women hurried to the chancel, but once there they couldn’t help but pause to admire the beauty of the altar. It had been built of layered flat rock to create a halo-like effect surrounding a larger-than-life statue of a serene-faced woman. She’d been carved from a stone that was brilliantly white. Her face was tilted down and her arms were spread wide, as if to embrace the river that raged far below. Mari could hardly glance down and down to the white water and jutting hunks of debris that was the ruin of Bonn Dam. The roar of the white water lifted from below, creating a disconcerting hum in her ears, so she turned her attention back to the statue.

Like the Saleesh women, their Goddess was wearing a long, light-colored tunic that pooled around her feet. Over it was a blue shawl that had been painted. It covered the idol’s golden hair and draped to her bare feet. Around her neck hung strand after strand of glistening round beads. Mari peered closely at them, marveling at the exquisite workmanship. All about the Goddess offerings had been left; they were around her feet as well as placed in niches in the stone wall behind her, everything from bright pieces of blue cloth to glistening crystals and small candles—many, many small candles.

“She’s incredible,” Jenna said.

“I wonder what she was carved out of. I’ve never seen stone so white,” said Isabel.

“It is called marble. Our people mine it. It is only used to create idols of the Mother.” Father John seemed to materialize from behind the altar.

“She is exquisite,” Mari said. “We, too, worship a Goddess—the Great Earth Mother. Though we form her idols from the earth itself.”

Father John tilted his head, considering. “I would very much like to see one of your Great Earth Mother idols.”

“Well, after we settle on the Wind Rider plains, maybe you will come visit us,” Mari said.

Father John’s smile flattened. “Oh, no, Mari Moon Woman. Thank you for your kind offer, but the Saleesh never travel far from their river. We cannot. We must not. The Mother wishes us to remain and keep the spirits at peace.”

“But they aren’t at peace,” Dove said. “They are restless and sad—as if they’re waiting. Always waiting, and never arriving.”

Father John’s eyes narrowed. “Who is this eyeless young one?”

Mari spoke the words that lifted from her heart. “She is our Seer. Her name is Dove.”

“Ah, so, Sister Dove—you have no eyes, but you see.”

“I try to,” Dove said.

Father John turned and reached into a long, wooden chest that sat behind the Mother idol. It was intricately carved with the same symbols that were tattooed on the men’s bodies, and Mari suddenly noticed that the symbols were all the same—large letter Ms, surrounded by ornate decorations. The old man pulled out a brazier that was a miniature of the larger ones that hung before the Saleesh houses, giving off sweet smoke. He took a long, thin twig and held it to one of the candles, then used it to light the clump of dried herbs within the brazier.

Then he went to stand in front of Dove as he wafted the brazier back and forth, back and forth—causing the smoke from the herbs to drift around Lily and her. Mari recognized the earthy scent of burning sage.

“Sister Dove, breathe deeply. Open your mind to the sacred smoke. Then tell the Mother what it is you see with no eyes.”

Mari watched Dove startle as the smoke engulfed her. She coughed delicately, and then breathed deeply. Lily was watching Dove as if she was going to pull away from Father John at any moment—and then Dove’s posture changed. Her back straightened. Her chin lifted. Her head turned so that if she’d had eyes, she would have been staring outat the river. When she spoke, Mari recognized the singsong tone her words had taken on the night before.

“I do not need to tell the Mother, for she already knows. Great darkness is coming—like a tide of shadows. I see it drowning the Saleesh. And when the tide ebbs, I see no Saleesh and there is a silent keening in the land as those who are enslaved mourn for what could have been.”

Dove coughed and then sneezed, wiped her nose with the back of her hand—and just like that she was herself again, a slight, pretty girl who had no eyes. Her face turned from looking out at the river to Father John.

“I’m sorry. I know that sounds awful, and I’m not even sure where those words came from, but I believe them. Something bad is coming—something that has waited a long time to be awakened. It will destroy the Saleesh if you do not leave here. You may return safely—I feel that strongly. But first you must leave for an entire cycle of the seasons.”

“Leave? We are the Saleesh. We do not leave our river.”

“But you can, right?” Mari said. “It’s spring. You have time to move inland. And as Dove foretells, it isn’t permanent, but only for one cycle of the seasons.”

“The Mother will protect us. We will remain, as we have always remained. We survived the destruction of an entire world. The Mother made certain we thrived when others perished. We remain under her powerful protection.”

“But the Mother knows what is coming. I believe this warning comes from her,” Dove said.

“That is absurd. Why would the Mother not warn me, her chosen Priest, directly? Or any of our people? Why would she choose the voice of a stranger?”

When Dove only bit her lip and remained silent, Jenna spoke up. “Maybe shehasbeen trying to warn you, and you wouldn’t listen? I don’t mean that with any disrespect. It’s just that I know what it’s like to have overlooked the truth because I didn’t want to see it.” Jenna met Mari’s eyes and mouthed,I’m sorry.

“Father John,” Dove said. “Think back on your dreams and on signsand portents you might have either overlooked or misinterpreted during the past several months. Perhaps then my words will hold more meaning.”