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On this night high in the mountains whose breeze was that of spring, certain constellations shone high in the sky, betraying the proper season: winter.
“Name them for me, Sister Venia,” said Brother Severus, coming suddenly out of the gloom to stand beside her.
“Very well,” she said. She would not be intimidated by his solemn tone and dour expression. “At this season, the Penitent, twelfth House in the zodiac, rides high in the sky—” She pointed overhead. “—while the tenth House, the Unicorn, sets with the sun and the Sisters, the third House, rise at nightfall. The Guivre stalks the heavens and the Eagle swoops down upon its back. The Hunter begins his climb from the east as the Queen sets in the west and her Sword, her Crown, and her Staff ride low on the horizon, symbol of her waning power.”
“That is good,” said Severus, “but you have listened in your youth to too many astrologi. The Hunter, the Queen, the Eagle: These are only names we give to the stars, drawing familiar pictures on the face of the heavens. In heaven itself, they have their own designations whose names are a mystery to those of us who live here beneath the sphere of the ever-dying moon. But by naming them, even in such a primitive way, seeing our own wishes and fears among them as the young hunters saw Princess Theophanu as a running deer, we gain knowledge enough to see the lines of power that bind them together. With knowledge, we can harness the power that courses between them through that geometry which exists between all the stars. Each alignment offers new opportunities or new obstacles, each unique.”
He raised a hand, pointing. “See there, Sister. How many of the planets do you see, and where are they?”
Her eyesight was not what it had been in her youth, but she squinted up. “I see Somorhas, of course, the Evening Star, lying in the Penitent. Jedu, Angel of War, entered the Falcon ten days ago. And Mok, mistress of wisdom and plenty, must still be in the Lion, although we can’t see her now.”
Whatever pride she felt in this observation he punctured with his next words. “There also find Aturna, who moves in retrograde through the Child, his lines of influence opposite the others. There—see you?—almost invisible unless you know where to look, lies fleet Erekes, just entering the Penitent. The Moon is not yet risen this night. The Sun, of course, has set. Yet within twenty days Mok and Jedu will also move into retrograde, so that only Somorhas and Erekes move forward. Thus the planets on this night as on every night form a new alignment in relationship to the great stars of the heavens. There you see the Guivre’s Eye, and there Vulneris and Rijil, the Hunter’s shoulder and foot. There are the three jewels, sapphire, diamond, and citrine, which are the chief stars in the Cup, the Sword, and the Staff. The Child’s Torque rises toward the zenith, as does the Crown of Stars. Tomorrow we will send our companion on her way, aiding her swift travel through the halls of iron by such power as we can draw down to us through these alignments. Only with knowledge can we use the power of the heavens. Do not think it is fit knowledge for any common mortal soul who walks the earth. Only a few can truly comprehend it and act rightly.”
“That is why God through the hand of Their skopos ordained biscops and presbyters, Brother, is it not? To guide and to shepherd?”
He considered this comment in silence while he studied the stars above, looking for something, some sign, some portent, perhaps. As she waited, she became lost in contemplation of the River of Heaven, the track of sparkling dust like a great serpent circling the sky, each faint light a soul streaming toward the Chamber of Light.
At last Severus spoke, slowly now and as if to himself as much as to her. “You are accustomed to power, Sister Venia. But you must forget all you have learned in the world. You must leave it behind, cut yourself off from it, as we did. That is the only way to learn what we have to teach you.”
“How can we let go of the world when God have given us as our task the means to guide the mistaken back to the righteous way, to chastise the weak, and to punish the wicked?”
“Is that what God have asked us to do?”
“Is it not?”
“We are all tainted with the darkness which is the touch of the Enemy, Sister Venia. It is arrogance to believe we can see through the darkness that veils us and understand God’s will better than any other mortal soul. Only there—” He gestured toward the River of Heaven, streaming above them. “—will we be cleansed of that darkness and shine only as light.” He lowered his hand. “Shall we go in to dinner?”
2
“THE River of Heaven,” Da always said, “was called the Great Serpent by the heathen tribes who lived here before the Holy Word came to these lands.”
“Why is the zodiac called the world dragon, Da?” she would ask, “when it’s actually twelve constellations and not one creature at all? And if that’s a dragon, then why is the River of Heaven called a serpent?”
“We have many names for things,” he would answer. “It is the habit of humankind to name things so that we may then have power over them. The Jinna call the River of Heaven by another name: the Fire God’s Breath. In the annals of the Babaharshan magicians it was called the Ever-Bright Bridge Which Spans the Chasm. The ancient Dariyan sages called it the Road of Lady Fortune, for where She sets her foot, gems bloom.”
“What do you think it is, Da?”
“It is the souls of the dead, Liath, you know that. That is the path by which they stream onward into the Chamber of Light.”
“But then why don’t we see it moving—I mean really moving, flowing, not just moving as the stars all do, rising in the east and setting in the west? Rivers flow. Water is always moving.”
“That is not water, daughter, but the light of divine souls. And in any case, the aether does not follow the same laws as the elements bound to this earth, nor should it.”
“Then is there fire in our souls, that they should light up like that once they reach the heavens?”
But at the mention of fire, he would get upset and change the subject.
Now she wondered. “Hindsight is a marvelous thing,” Da would always say. “Every person sees perfectly with hindsight.” She had done brushing down her horse and lingered outside the door, staring up at a winter sky unblemished with clouds. It was bitter cold, this night; snow had fallen yesterday, delicate flakes like the shedding of down from angel’s wings, but there had not been enough to make more than a thin crust on the road today.
“Then is there fire in our souls?”
She built the City of Memory in her mind as she stood, arms crossed and gloved hands tucked under armpits for warmth, staring up at the sky. The city lies on an island, and the island is itself a small mountain. Seven walls ring the mountain, each one higher up on the slope, each one named by a different gate: Rose, Sword, Cup, Ring, Throne, Scepter, and Crown. Beyond the Crown gate, at the flat crown of the hill, stands a plaza, and on this plaza stand five buildings. Of the five buildings, one stands at each of the cardinal directions: north, south, east, and west. The fifth building, a tower, stands in the very center, the navel of the universe, as Da sometimes said jokingly.
But perhaps he had not meant it as a joke. Inside the topmost chamber of the tower stand four doors, one opening to each of the cardinal directions. But in the center of that chamber stands a fifth door, which neither opens nor closes because it is locked; because, standing impossibly in the center of the room, it leads to nothing.
Except there was something beyond it. If she, in her mind’s eye, knelt and peered through the keyhole, she saw fire.
Da had locked the door and not given her the key. He had meant to teach her—she was sure of that—but poor Da, always running, always suspicious, always afraid of what might be walking up from behind, could never decide quite when the time was right. So the time had never come.
