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Galahad looked so horrorstruck I felt sorry for him.
“Aha,” Lancelet exclaimed triumphantly, rubbing her hands together in glee. “I told you so!”
“Whether she was dead already or still alive,” Merlin continued. “Well, that is another matter.”
We all stared at her.
Merlin let out a chuckle. “Well, just look at your faces. Dead would be preferable, would it not? Perhaps someone who had recently passed on? I’m sure it would have been quite the honor.”
“Yes, I see what you mean,” Galahad said, sounding relieved. “Someone’s grandmother perhaps. With her consent freely given, of course.”
“Of course,” Merlin agreed. She met my gaze. “There is something to be said for those who sacrifice willingly for the goddess’s sake. Come, Morgan. Walk with me back to the castle. Your brother the king has invited me to greet the visitors from Lyonesse before I return to the temple for the Proving.”
“Gladly,” I replied. I exchanged glances with Lancelet and Galahad. “I’ll see you tonight?”
“Wouldn’t miss it,” Galahad said, waving a hand.
“Your last night.” Lancelet’s voice was hollow. She frowned up at the castle in the distance and I knew who she was blaming in her mind. “I’ll be there.”
I nodded and joined Merlin who had walked a few steps away.
“Will you be joining us for the Proving today, Morgan?” Merlin asked quietly as we began to walk up the cobblestone street to the castle. “Your brother has sent his excuses and will not be overseeing the ritual this year. He is too busy with his guests from Lyonesse.”
“I would have thought they would find the ritual interesting,” I replied. “I wasn’t planning on attending. I’m preparing...”
“Yes, to leave tomorrow. I know.” Merlin gave me an appraising look. “Would you care to tell me more about your trip than your brother has?”
I shrugged uncomfortably. “I’m not sure Arthur would like that.”
Arthur had not told me explicitly not to mention the purpose of my trip to anyone. But considering the threats he had made, I had decided it would be safest not to. When I told Galahad and Lancelet I was leaving, I spoke in the vaguest terms possible. Even so, I knew they suspected there was much more to the journey than I was saying.
“No, I suppose he would not.” Merlin fell quiet.
I thought about the temple rites. The Proving was to test each new acolyte for magical potential. One at a time, they would stand in the center of the temple courtyard as the High Priestess circled them, murmuring ancient incantations and waving a brass censer of burning rose petals and smoky incense. An acolyte might be asked to peer into a bowl of water and describe what they see. Another might have a pinch of herbs sprinkled onto their palm.
I had once seen an acolyte close their eyes and begin to chant as Merlin moved about them, soft smoke billowing from the brass censer. As the acolyte finished their chant, they stretched out their hand and revealed a small flower blooming from the sprinkle of herbs, its pink petals unfolding in a delicate spiral.
But that was the exception.
Most of the time, the results were far less impressive.
With every passing year, fewer and fewer acolytes were found to have any trace of magic at all.
In the past, acolytes were selected specifically for their abilities.
One might possess a power over the air, the ability to send a gust of wind whipping through the temple–and with proper training, through the sails of a ship at sea. Another might look into the scrying bowl and actually see something worth describing. An image that revealed important information. A message from another kingdom. Or even just the future birth of a child to a family who believed they would never be blessed with one.
I knew that Merlin's predecessor had been able to read the thoughts and emotions of those around her. A very powerful gift indeed. But in some of the books I had read, priestesses in the past had been able to sense and even communicate with those not just in the same room or even the same city but in a kingdom far away. I could not even imagine being able to do such a thing.
And I never would. For I had not a speck of magic. Merlin had tested me before.
I would never have been chosen for the temple based on power alone. I was an empty vessel.
Ironic then that my father had disinherited me because of my fae blood. Those with much less of it had still more power than I did.
Even Galahad had shown a small aptitude for magic. He could charm animals–calling birds right out of the sky and calming wild deer and other creatures when we would walk in the woodland around the city.
Admittedly, it was not a particularly useful sort of magic, but it was still something.
