as last night's, with no defined term, had. Yesterday evening's sky had told her that the morning would be sunny, so there would be no excuse of not noticing when Dawnspan ended.
She picked up the cup of tranquillity - she'd been using that one a lot lately - and mixed the Ladywell water, young spring wine, grey clay, willow and cherry ash, six herbs, and two kinds of honey to go in it. It was almost the standard recipe for Connection, and one of the first an apprentice Chalice would have been taught, except for the honey, which was Mirasol's idea. She propped the book of common incantations up where she could glance at it while she dressed. She already knew the invocation for Connection by heart, but she felt painfully stuffed full, however erratically and inadequately, of new things, and preferred not to rely on her memory if she didn't have to. Although the open book was more a gesture than an opportunity for study, since it was still too dark to read. But it was comforting to have the book out too, like having a friend in the room with her. She didn't have many friends any more; her old ones were afraid of her, and the people around her as Chalice didn't want her among them.
Her way to the House from her cottage lay across the expanse of parkland where the great party for the investiture of the new Master had been held. The traditional place for the Master's investiture was a much larger piece of open parkland at the front of the House, instead of in the smaller stretch between the House and the beginning of the eastern woodland. Clearseer - who was the only member of the Circle willing to gossip with the Chalice - said that the rumour was that their new Master had said that his banquet could be held anywhere but where his brother's had been.
"The reasons given vary from his hatred for his brother to wanting to signify a new beginning to a realisation that since his people are afraid of him they probably won't turn out for his party and a smaller space will make this less embarrassing." Clearseer frowned, then shrugged.
"Which reason do you favour?" asked Mirasol. She wished she felt more comfortable with the Clearseer. She had no reason to mistrust his motives but, as the newest member of the minor Circle in a time of great strain and disorder, he was second only to herself in unpopularity with the rest of the Circle. And as a minor member, he could do worse than to curry favour with the second most powerful member - however unpopular. On the other hand, as Clearseer he should be trying to keep - or restore - honesty and openness in the Circle. Good luck to him. Even a stronger Circle than the one in place could be expected to be wary and suspicious after the seven years they had had under the previous Master.
"The new clean beginning, of course," said Clearseer promptly. "But I'm afraid there may be something to the reason for choosing a smaller space."
Mirasol remembered the investiture feast for the previous Master. It had been wilder, the games and contests more reckless, and the wine unwatered and over-liberal, than felt either appropriate or safe. She had come with her parents, but they had not been happy or comfortable, and neither had she been; she remembered that many of the people she spoke to were wondering uneasily if this was a foreshadowing of what was to come. She remembered - she had thought of this often in the last months - how she had thought the Chalice looked regal but fragile, and several of the other Circle members as if they weren't sure what their duties or responses should be. The Prelate had been fawning and the Grand Seneschal had been grim - and she had been very glad that she need have nothing to do with any of them.
She remembered the Master's younger brother too. He seemed to stay as far away from his brother as he could, to take part in none of the games, and to drink no wine.
The new Master's party had gone off without incident but it had not been an enormous success either - or perhaps she was only too tired to notice after the investiture, which had required three different cups of her, a complex invocation, and far too much contact with both