The Immortal Heights - Sherry Thomas Page 0,88

have learned something from all our oracles, because he took over the Ponives just in time for Akhilesh Parimu to come into his powers.”

The story of Kashkari’s uncle never failed to give Iolanthe chills: killed by his own family, so that he did not fall into the Bane’s hands.

“After the establishment of the Inquisitory, did Atlantis become the only entity that could ask questions of the oracles?”

“No, ordinary mages were still allowed to consult them, but far less often. And of course all questions had to be approved by the acolytes, who were now either Atlanteans or those allied with Atlantis—to prevent just what Mrs. Hancock was able to do: using the power of an oracle to ask how the Bane could be brought down.”

In the Beyond, was Mrs. Hancock already reunited with her sister and Icarus Khalkedon? And Master Haywood—who welcomed him on the other side? His parents? His sister who had died early? When Iolanthe arrived, would he be happy to see her—or sad that she had outlived him by mere days?

She brought her mind back to the present—the ways and means of the Beyond she would know soon enough.

“The only oracle I’ve ever consulted is in the Crucible—there is no queue of supplicants waiting for answers. But a real oracular site must be swamped with mages desperate for answers. How do the acolytes choose which supplicants they will favor?”

“It runs the gamut. Some decide on the relative merit of the supplicants’ questions; some, obviously, on who can pay the most; and some charge a nominal fee and let the oracle itself decide.”

“So the supplicants just toss their questions to the oracle and see if they get an answer?”

“That’s how the Prayer Tree worked. One gave a few coins in alms for the needy, then wrote a question on a leaf that had fallen from the tree and dropped it anywhere among the roots—and those roots cover a large, large area. If the tree decided to answer a question, a white leaf would grow on the branches, and an acolyte would climb up to record the answer and copy it to their register.

“By the time my parents asked their question about me, they could probably have paid with the leftovers of their lunch. Oracles don’t last forever. The Prayer Tree had largely withered, and hadn’t answered any questions in years. But my parents thought they might as well try it, since they didn’t have the means to afford a more robust oracle.”

“You were ill?”

“Very. The physicians weren’t sure whether I would live past my first birthday, and my parents were frantic. But the Prayer Tree roused itself to give one last assurance.”

“So what did the Prayer Tree tell you?”

Amara took a sip of water from her canteen. “I will need a vow of silence from you.”

Without quite noticing it, Iolanthe had created a complicated waterscape in the air, slender streams threading in and out of a shallow pool of water, the entire thing bright and sparkling under the early afternoon sun. And now, in her surprise at Amara’s request, the waterscape dropped ten feet straight down. “Why?”

“You’ll see.”

“All right,” said Iolanthe. She didn’t see how that would matter one way or the other, for a question answered at least two decades ago about a baby girl’s life expectancy. “I solemnly promise to never mention it to anyone.”

“The Prayer Tree said, ‘Amara, daughter of Baruti and Pramada, will live long enough to be embraced by the Master of the Domain.’”

“What?” The waterscape disintegrated altogether and fell with a loud splash to the boulders far below.

“Quite an answer, eh?”

Iolanthe sucked in a breath. “So that’s why you crashed the party at the Citadel.”

“Wouldn’t you, if you were told that you would be embraced by a prince? I’d outgrown the curiosity I had about him when I was younger. And of course Vasudev and I were already engaged, and I couldn’t imagine ever letting another man embrace me, unless it was a quick hug from someone like Mohandas. But still, I was curious.”

“And then you met him and realized he was a man who embraced no one.”

That was an exaggeration, but not by much. Iolanthe was certain that after his mother, and maybe Lady Callista when he was a tot who didn’t know any better, she was the only person he had ever touched at length.

“Which bodes well for my life expectancy, does it not?” Amara laughed, a high, abrupt sound.

Iolanthe gazed at her for some time, perhaps at last seeing

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