Page 103 of The Castle & the Cloister

—A LYRIEN SORIAS’ HYMN

In the heart of the Invers’ stolen mountain, Fia watched as a girl got to her feet. Black hair falling to her waist. A delicate, birdlike stature. The midnight-blue and silver-bordered kirtle of a Lyrien soria.

She was perfect. She was everything Fia had been looking for. And Fia lost her certainty that what was happening was taking place in the waking world, rather than in a dream.

“My name is Lynette,” the girl said with a radiant smile. The light of faith shone from her, illuminating the stone chamber as surely as the lamp on its stand. “I’ve been waiting for you.”

Fia cast about herself in bewilderment. “Waiting for how long?”

Lynette’s smile grew brighter. “Quite a while now.”

Drawing in a trembling breath, Fia shook her head. “Why?”

But she already knew why. There could only be one reason, one need this child had come to fill.

Lynette stepped forward and took both of Fia’s hands in her own. “Because in the spring, Lyria sent me a bloodborne dream. I prepared to do what was required for weeks, and traveled here with two companions.They never knew my calling, and lost patience with it a few days ago. They said I’d waited too long, or that I’d failed to understand the dream. But I knew you’d come. There are people faithful to the Beloved Three who’ve brought me food and water, by paths only a few still know.”

“That doesn’t answer my question,” Fia said, pulling her hands away. “Why are you waiting for me?”

Lynette’s face grew solemn. “I think you know.”

Fia set to pacing, anxiety and slow dread churning in her stomach. “You look like a child. How old are you, girl?”

“Fifteen. Does it matter?”

“Fifteen. Raea’s light.” Fia pressed a palm to her forehead. “Did Serafine have a part in you coming here? She had some role in Ariana doing so, and it’s been the ruin of my queen. I don’t think much of a Matria who cares so little for the lives and happiness of her daughters.”

Lynette stood quietly, and when Fia glanced at her, met her gaze with absolute calm. “My Matria didn’t know I was leaving until I’d already gone. It was part of the dream, you see—that I could share my true intention in coming with no one but you. I know what you need, Fia, and I’m here to be what you require.”

The half sob that escaped Fia was agony and helplessness bound up together.

“I can’t ask that,” she said. “You’re only here because I am selfish. Because I can’t bear the thought of giving Ariana Inver up.”

“Why can’t you let her go?” Lynette asked, and speaking to her felt like confessing to Lyria herself—the gentlest and strictest of goddesses.

“Oh, I don’tknow,” Fia said in despair. “Because she has always seemed perfect in her faith to me. Because she’s given more for peace already than anyone should ever have been asked to. Because… because I loved her before I knew yet that love was something I could feel. When I left my old life behind, it wasn’t only because I wanted better, but because I wanted tobebetter. And I never knew that was possible until I met Ari. She was—she is—Lyria to me. She is peace itself embodied, pure and lovely and under siege. I could no more stop striving for her than I could turn aside from Raea’s service.”

“Then I will be a true martyr,” Lynette said, her heartbreakingly sweet smile returning. This time, when she took Fia’s hands, Fia did notpull way. Instead, she pressed Lynette’s delicate fingers to her lips. “If our faith requires a martyr to die for peace, and Ariana is peace to you, that is enough for me. I know, as I know the sun will rise and the moon will pull the tides and the stars will guide us all, that when I die for this cause, I’ll be taken into Lyria’s brilliant heart and become a star myself.”

Fia’s breath caught.

“How can you be sure?” she asked, desperate longing making her voice unsteady.

“I saw it,” Lynette said triumphantly. “I saw it in my dream. And I want that ending more than anything. If Lyria is willing to give it to me, how can you take it away? It can’t be wrong to do this for me—not if Lyria has called for it.”

Fia wavered. The girl was so certain, so luminous in her belief. “I don’t… I don’t know.”

“I want this,” Lynette insisted. “And Ariana does not deserve to die.”

Laying hold of that, Fia shook her head. “No. But neither do you.”

For the first time, Lynette’s light dimmed. “Of course not. But in this world, not all can survive. You and Ari can—you’ve proven it already. You’re strong enough and courageous enough to live through the very worst. But I am… I’m wounded on the inside, in a way neither of you have ever been. When the war in Corrin happened, I was only a child.”

“You’re still a child,” Fia cut in.

“No,” Lynette said tonelessly. “I’m not. I ceased to be a child that summer. It wasn’t only soldiers from Honoria and Caervallion who suffered—I watched my family put to the sword by men who were no better than wild beasts. I was subjected to things at their hands that I will not ever speak of. And I cannot. Find peace. Any longer. I’ve tried—Matria Serafine allowed me to make a fidelity oath despite my age, and for five years I have been a perfect soria. It should have been a refuge. Instead, I have spent every day in agony. This is my last chance for the peace I want so badly, Fia. I know the Beloved Three hold only love for those who die by their own hands, but I don’t think I will rest easy if it comes to that. I want to die in service, since I cannot live in it. I want a martyr’s death. I’m asking you to give it to me.”

“I don’t know what to do,” Fia said, and the words came out small and broken, clouded with tears. It felt as if the entire mountain waspressing down upon her—she could not withstand the weight any longer, and dropped to her knees.