The Blight of Muirwood

That thought was profound and amazed her. Muirwood, as with the other Abbeys, was a gateway back to Idumea. And not just to Idumea but to any of the other millions of worlds where there were enough mastons to build them. Each generation of maston families grew stronger and stronger with the Medium until at last a new generation was strong enough in the Medium to banish death. There would come a time when the chain was strong enough that two mastons, joined by an irrevocare sigil, could use the Medium to bring all of their ancestors back from the dead, in bodies remade into the race of the Essaios and together cross the threshold back to Idumea and join the ranks of others who had so done. It had happened in Muirwood already, she suddenly realized. The stone ossuaries that had washed away, revealing nothing but grave clothes and wedding bands. The Essaios cared not for trinkets of gold or cemetery linen. Nor did they want to linger behind on a fallen world. Unseen, they had entered the Abbey and crossed the Apse Veil back to their true home.

That was the destiny of her race, she realized. It was the duty that compelled Colvin – to be part of that grand chain, that link that would make it possible for himself and his family to conquer death. She knew that it was part of her blood as well. Was it possible then that her parents had been joined together by an irrevocare sigil? Or at least someone from their ancestry?

The knowledge she was given went beyond anything she could fully understand. It smothered her with possibilities. Yet she was so happy, so full of the intent of what it meant. But the Aldermaston was not finished. There was more to the history than she had been told so far. With the burning desire still inside, she listened as the information began to shift in darker tones. Yes, Idumea was a place of beauty and power. But occasionally, rarely, there were those shadow-selves, like she had been, that wanted to become Essaios without delay, without earning it. Beings that learned how to force the Medium to do their will instead of submitting their wills to it. Just as there were millions and millions of stars and worlds shimmering and sparkling, there was a balance, an equal portion of dead things that would not progress, would not grow, would not enter the cocoons of birth and transform. There were those that turned so much inside themselves that every speck of light was smothered even though they could not die of it. Rather than coming to the world cocooned in a babe’s body, they had been flung out of Idumea – cursed for their wickedness and cruelty. They were banished to the very worlds where the scions of Idumea were coming alive.

Lia understood Colvin’s comments now. The Myriad Ones were not the dead. They were the Unborn. They were the sparks, the gossamer threads, the shadow-intelligences that were too wicked to be born, too selfish to create, to wild to tame. And they had a Queen.

Lia watched in horror. Yes, the Myriad Ones would never be born, but they were cunning and devious and twisted truths to suit their purposes. They were led by a Queen named Ereshkigal who hated the Essaios for banishing her and her followers and swore she would destroy the Abbeys, to prevent anyone from returning to Idumea. Anyone. To further her cause, she created an order, just as the Essaios had created the order of mastons to build Abbeys and bring people back to Idumea. They were called the hetaera and they only accepted women into the order. They were taught to hate the mastons, to murder them, and destroy the Abbeys. The hetaera were the hidden power behind kings and emperors who they manipulated all to their ends. In every land, in every realm, they existed – some in secret and some openly. The hetaera forged the kystrels and used them to entice, through the Medium, others to do Ereshkigal’s bidding.

Without being told, Lia realized that Pareigis, the Queen Dowager, was a hetaera. And just as assuredly as she realized that, she knew that it was she who had driven the old king to murder the mastons. A hetaera was the equal of a maston in using the Medium. It was a frightening thought. Only one of the race of Essaios was more powerful.

Lia realized the risk then. If she chose to become a maston, she could qualify ultimately to become an Essaios. She could also be murdered for becoming one.

The Aldermaston did not make that final conclusion, but she realized it nonetheless. She understood now the risk that she faced. If she proceeded to the Rood Screen, she would get the chance to pass the maston test. Or she could walk away, keeping silent the knowledge she had received and wonder for the rest of her life if she had made the wrong decision.

“Do you seek the rights of the mastons?” the Aldermaston asked her softly.

She remembered when she had first met Colvin, wounded on the tiles of the kitchen. How she had noticed his chaen shirt and recognized his fear of being killed. Somehow he had managed to live with the fear. Could she do any less?