The Spirit Gate Read Online Free

the
lane that led from the market into the village proper, they caught her up,
splitting one to each side.
    “You’re one of the White
Mothers, aren’t
you?” said the one with the red cap.
    “We’ve heard stories about
you,” said the other. His cap and leggings were blue.
    She didn’t
answer them, but kept walking, eyes straight ahead.
    “I
heard you tell that merchant you needed a place to live. We could give you
money if you would . . . well . . .” Licking his lips, he glanced across Kassia at his companion and she
thought she would like to brain them both. “We’d
like you to divine for us.”
    She stopped dead in her tracks, looking from one to the
other. “You want
me to tell your fortunes?”
    Red Cap nodded vigorously. “We’re
up for our Aspirant’s
exams at Lorant, you see. And we’d
like to know . . . if we’ll
become Mateu or . . .”
    “Or
only priests,” finished Blue.
    “We’ve heard White Mothers
can see the future. You are a White Mother, aren’t you?” His eyes were on her crown of silvery hair.
    Kassia smiled. It was an insincere smile, but it would have
to do. “Yes. I
am. And I would be happy to divine your fortunes . . . for a
small fee, of course. Let’s
say . . . one alka each.”
    “Only
one?” Blue Cap seemed relieved.
    Mentally kicking herself for not asking a higher price,
Kassia nodded. “One
alka, since you’re
such fine young gentlemen. But when you tell your friends about me—and you will tell your
friends about me . . .” She gave them each a certain look to emphasize the point, hoping they
would think she spelled them. “Don’t mention the price. I
give it to you so cheaply as a favor.”
    “Where
do we go?” asked Blue Cap. “Do
you have a hut or a cave?”
    Kassia snorted delicately. “We go to the bakery.”
    Bemused, they followed her there, and she told their
fortunes (or as much as she could see of them) and let them buy her turkaffee
and a meat pocket pie. When they had gone, happily considering to what province
and town they would go when they had become full-fledged priests, Mistress
Devora, the baker, joined Kassia at one end of the trestle table.
    “Fortune-telling,
eh?” the baker mused, looking at Kassia’s handful of coins. “Do you think you saw the truth? Maybe they’ll be Mateu, after
all.”
    Kassia laughed, wiping pie crumbs from the corners of her
mouth. “If they
had a speck of the Mateu’s
gift, they wouldn’t
have needed me to divine their fortunes. They’d have seen themselves in their vestments, clear as
stars in Mat’s
sky. They’ll be
priests. Though one of them won’t
be one for long. There’s
a scandal in that one’s
future.”
    “You
didn’t tell him
that.”
    “He
asked only if he’d
become a priest or a Mateu. I told him. Besides, who pays to hear ill-fortune?” She rattled the coins in her hand. “I wonder, Devora—if I go up-town, do you think many of those folk
would pay to have their fortunes told?”
    The older woman gave a chuff of disdain. “No doubt they would.
But you waste your talent, Kassia. It wasn’t that long ago the voice of prophecy was silent
among the shai. I remember how it was with your mama. She was a dammed-up river
for years—unable
to do much more than prepare herbals and foretell the weather.”
    While I do not even that much . Kassia sobered. “I remember. I also
remember that the people of Dalibor blamed her for that, thinking she cheated
them.”
    “Not
all.”
    “Not
all. But most. Even when Itugen smiled again, and her gift for divination
returned, they refused to trust her, saying she dealt with malevolent spirits.”
    Devora shrugged broad, rounded shoulders. “That was their loss.
They’d have known
of the flood if they’d
listened to Jasia; she spoke to them of water and darkness.”
    “Ah,
but the Mateu didn’t.
The Mateu spoke only of blessed rain falling from the sky.”
    “The
Mateu see only with their eyes—and
with half-closed