Brena
"Each of you will be Tested for magic on the Tor of the Stone Hedge," Zavaedi Brena told her group.
By tradition, she could not test the same children she had traveled with. She wasn't allowed to show favoritism to her own kin.
All across the clearing, in front of the longhouses, other Tavaedies gave the same instructions to other groups of young people.
"Those of you who have magic will learn the secrets of the Tavaedies," Brena said. "The rest of you will learn the duties of manhood or womanhood. Some lessons will include everyone. Others will be separate—Tavaedies, warriors, and maidens will train apart."
She added, "Wear your totem doll on a cord around your neck. After the Testing, you'll give it to the teacher who chooses you. In return, you'll receive your totem of adulthood."
She clapped her hands to get them moving. The Initiates formed two long lines—one of boys, one of girls—and began the walk from the Tor of the Initiates to the Tor of the Stone Hedge.
They wore the colors of their tribes. They also had to wear blindfolds again and let the Tavaedies tie their hands behind their backs.
Brena kept a sharp eye on her assigned group. But she also glanced now and then toward the group where her daughters walked. Her stomach felt tight, like the cramps of giving birth.
She was more nervous than they were.
The night of her Initiation had been the worst—and the best—of her life.
She forced herself to breathe deeply.
The Tor of the Stone Hedge was made of three great rings of standing stones. The stones were huge slabs of granite, arranged in circles on the flat top of the hill.
If you looked closely, you could see strange marks carved into the stone. No one knew what the marks meant or who had carved them.
Some said the Aelfae had built the stone circle. Others said it was the Brundorfae. Others believed the Deathsworn had raised the stones. Some believed each group had made one ring.
The Zavaedies and Tavaedies in charge rolled away a large flat stone that covered a hole in the ground.
One by one, they pushed the blindfolded children into the hole and down into the darkness.
Brena remembered her own Initiation. The cold, the fear. The nearness of death. And then… the warm, guiding hands.
Her stomach turned.
My daughters. I'm sorry. But you must face the darkness alone.
Once the last child had gone down, the adults rolled the heavy stone back in place, sealing the children inside the earth.
Then the adults took their places, standing just inside the innermost ring of stones.
Their long vigil had begun.
Rthan
Rthan and his men slid the canoe into the river.
He jumped in first. The warriors climbed in after him and crouched behind him.
All of them wore full war gear.
Meira, the daughter who was not really his daughter, sat at the front of the canoe. Her body glowed with soft blue light. She leaned on the carved head of the war canoe. She looked small there—like a child playing in a place she didn't belong.
She turned to him with the serious face of his daughter. It was as if she felt his doubt.
"Never forget what they did to me and Mama," she said.
He saw the burned bodies again—twisted, charred, ruined.
He didn't need her reminders. He didn't need her faery tricks.
"It wasn't really you they murdered," he said. He wasn't speaking to her so much as to himself. He needed to remember, not to be disloyal, but to stay sane.
"You're immortal."
"I speak for her because she can never speak again," the blue fae child said without fear. "Will you avenge me, Daddy?"
He gripped the oars tighter. He steered the boat into the strongest part of the river current.
He could hear the sound of other boats pushing out from shore. A full war party was launching.
The blue light from her skin lit up the moonless night. It shone over the black water and showed the ripples around them.
"I will avenge you, Meira. I swear it," he said.