Page 98 of The Faerie Handmaid

Morgana knew the elder priestess liked order and predictability, and this deviation from custom disturbed her. She said, “I will manage, Priestess Niamh. We will have what we need by tomorrow morning.”

She rose then, forestalling the questions her sister priestesses wanted to ask. “Thank you for your thoughtfulness in regard to the Blackbird’s wishes. He was faithful to you all, and you have proved yourselves worthy. He would be proud.” And then, as an afterthought, she murmured, “I am, too.”

Feeling their eyes on her, their questions and objections left unspoken, she inclined her head, then left them. She needed solitude to do what she intended, and time, which was necessarily short. The endeavor would be far more difficult without Braithe’s assistance.

Morgana prepared as swiftly as she could, making sure she had eaten enough to give her strength, taking a basket of provisions with her so she could eat again when she returned. It wasn’t a great distance, and with luck, her errand would not take long, but there were the usual complications of fatigue, exposure, and worst of all, nakedness.

Carrying her basket, she strode out through the Temple and into the woods, bypassing the gardens and making certain no one had followed her, neither priestess nor acolyte. There was a little dell she knew of, where the roots of three holm oaks intertwined aboveground to create a cradle. It was full of moss and studded with mushrooms, but her basket and her clothes would be safe there. She stripped off her robe and folded it, then added her chemise and her sandals. Her sigil she laid carefully inside one of her sandals, its cord wrapped around the whole.

She was glad now of the heat of the afternoon. She stood, naked, in the shade of the holm oaks, and began the process without delay. Her toes became talons. Her feet and legs turned yellow and hard. Her outstretched arms grew feathers, becoming broad wings in a dark brown color. She felt the transformation of her body, the long, rounded tail, the hooked beak and the eyes, which she knew would be red. When she rose from the dell, wings propelling her up into the clear blue sky, no one in the world would have known that this elegant, powerful goshawk was actually Priestess Morgana, one of the Nine of the Lady’s Temple. She circled the dell once, getting her bearings, then tilted her wings and set off for the White City.

For the moment, her mind was a bird’s mind, her eyes farseeing and sharp. Her sorrow over the Blackbird was eased by the wind beneath her powerful wings and the late-summer sunshine on her gleaming back. If she had so wished, she could have flown straight beyond the mountains to the sea, leaving all responsibilities and duties behind. The bird’s mind was tempted.

Morgana’s was not. The discipline she had practiced all her life, guided and instructed by the Blackbird, prevailed. In a short time, the gleaming buildings of the White City rose before her. She circled once, twice, three times, until she was certain she had identified the Royal Council Hall. Swiftly, she descended into the inner courtyard, where the private door led into Emerlyn’s chamber. She landed lightly and began to shift back into her own body. She could only hope no one would spy her nakedness before she found something she could use to cover herself.

The council was in session. The noise of their arguments reached Emerlyn’s chamber, making Morgana shake her head as she searched for something to put on.

She went straight to Emerlyn’s private wardrobe, where she knew an assortment of gray robes hung. She was taller than the councillor, but she found one that almost reached her ankles. She didn’t bother with a chemise, and she remained barefoot. She had no intention of being in the White City long.

After a time the noise from the council chamber subsided, and the voices of the delegates faded away as they left the hall. Moments later Emerlyn appeared in the doorway to her chamber, a tired, slender figure with her gray hair hanging loose. She gazed at Morgana without emotion. “You’re wearing my robe.”

“I was naked.”

“I had an idea you were coming,” Emerlyn said. “It’s good to know I was correct. What form did you take?”

“Goshawk. There was no time for a boat.”

“Your handmaid will not be pleased.” Emerlyn came inside and closed the door behind her. “Are you very tired?”

“Yes, but I can rest later.” Morgana had been sitting at a small table, but she rose and faced the woman who was, in fact, her grandmother. “Emerlyn, I am sorry to tell you that the Black Mage has died. I need a bogwood coffin delivered to the Isle of Apples, and unfortunately, I need it immediately.”

Emerlyn put a hand to her breast. “Oh. Morgana, I am sorry to hear that. He is—he was—invaluable to you, I know. And to your mother.”

“He had grown so weary, it is a wonder he stayed with us as long as he did.”

“Will you bury him on the Isle, then? Is that what the Temple wants?”

“The priestesses thought of that, but no. We are going to lay him to rest beneath the lake, where he can rejoin my mother.”

Emerlyn’s lips parted, but for a long moment she didn’t speak. Finally, releasing a held breath with a sigh, she said, “You surprise me, but—but I think he would like that.”

“Will you help me?”

“Of course. Shall I order a boat to take you home with the coffin?”

“No, thank you. There would be questions.”

“Your sister priestesses don’t know that you shapeshift.”

“They do not, nor do they know I am fae. It seems best that way.”

Emerlyn made a small, sad sound in her throat. “Do they hate us so much?”

“They fear you,” Morgana said. “Which is almost the same thing.”

“So I would not be welcome at your farewell to my old friend.”

It was Morgana’s turn to be surprised. She had to think for a moment, to contemplate what the reaction in the Temple might be to the Royal Councillor of the White City appearing on the Isle. She gazed at her grandmother, wondering if there was guile in those dark eyes, where the gold flecks came and went as her magic surged and receded. “Would you like to be there?” she asked. “Among humans?”