cross inside the circle of blood. As he did so, he breathed a single word, “Imantua.”
The netsvis approached and, with a bow of deference to the king, offered up a golden dish bearing several of the animal’s internal organs. The two exchanged a few private words, whereupon the king announced: “As you have seen, the animal died at peace and without distress. This is a good omen. The liver and entrails were pristine and perfectly formed—this, too, bodes well for our inquiry. We will now conduct the augury.”
He passed the dish to the seer, who carried it back to the altar where he began to examine the contents, standing with one foot on a block of uncut stone that had been placed beneath the altar. Other attendants gathered around, and all leaned near to study the organs and determine from the signs what could be told of the unborn child’s future.
Twilight overtook the ceremony, so torches were lit. Arthur and Xian-Li stood waiting while the priests continued their deliberations amid much mumbled discussion. This continued far longer than Xian-Li might have expected. She watched with dread fascination as one of the priests took up the obsidian knife and began to divide the liver into sections, subjecting each section to minute examination.
The first stars were shining in the east when the netsvis finally turned and offered his judgement. Turms listened, his head bowed, nodding now and then as the blue-robed seer spoke. The king thanked him for his counsel, then summoned an attendant, who brought forth a censer on a chain. The attendant blew on the coals in the bowl, then dropped a pinch of something onto the glowing charcoal. Fragrant smoke billowed from the bowl. Turms bowed at the waist as the censer was swung before his face. He closed his eyes and breathed in the smoke . . . once . . . twice . . . three times; he made a gesture as if he were washing his hands in it, then placed his hands over his face. Palms pressed to his eyes, he grew very still.
Xian-Li began to think he had fallen asleep on his feet when Turms opened his eyes and gazed at her. With the glint of a rising moon shining in his dark eyes, he said, “I have seen the life light of the child stretching far into the future like a radiant silver cord. The end of this cord cannot be seen. It is lost to view in the unformed darkness of the distant future.” He smiled. “I believe this signifies a long and meaningful life for the child soon to make his appearance in the land of the living.”
Arthur squeezed his wife’s hand. “The child will be born alive,” he said, more a question seeking confirmation than a statement.
“The birth will be blessed with success, and the resulting infant will thrive,” the king assured them in a tone that allowed no room for doubt. “I, Turms the Immortal, have seen this.”
“Thank you, O King,” breathed Xian-Li. Then the tears began to flow as the fear that had held her these last weeks released its unforgiving grip. “Thank you.”
“I have seen something else,” Turms continued. “After this child, your womb will be closed. There will be no more children for you.”
Arthur darted a glance at his wife to see how she would receive this blow, but her smile did not alter. “I understand,” she murmured, resting her hand on her belly. “I will cherish this one the more.”
The ceremony moved to its conclusion, but Xian-Li remembered little of what happened after the pronouncement. That night she slept better than she could remember and rose the next morning at perfect peace. The house was still asleep when she slipped out. Unseen, she walked down the path to the temple and there, as the first rays of the sun touched the temple steps, she knelt and gave thanks for the life of her unborn child.
Now, as the first pangs of birth came upon her, Xian-Li recalled the serenity of that sacred moment. Her heart rose, and she pressed a hand to her swollen belly. Soon—before another day had dawned—she would hold her babe in her arms. When the next quiver of pain came upon her, she reached over to her sleeping husband and let her hand fall upon his shoulder. She did not shake him, but let the warmth of her body gently awaken him.
“It is time,” she said when he raised his head from