The Wretched of Muirwood (Legends of Muirwood 1)

She stopped again, wondering what to do. In her mind, she thought the words, Find the Pilgrim Inn. The spindles did not move. The pointers did not waver. She thought again. Take me to Colvin. More engraving appeared, its beautiful curving text shimmering against the surface of the orb. The pointers did not change. Though confused, she decided to trust it. Was Colvin at the Abbey? Had he managed to escape the sheriff somehow?

As she looked up at the abbey, fear began to churn inside her. It was not built like a fortress, with battlement walls and looming parapets with drapes dangling from poles. Its looming presence was a sight she had witnessed all of her life, yet she looked at it afresh with new eyes. The stone structure was enormous, rising well above the heights of the towering oaks. The windows were all veiled with mottled glass, so thick that it was impossible to see inside, and even if that were not so, there were heavy curtains within.

Wretcheds never went inside. Only learners who had completed their studies and the rites would emerge wearing a shirt of chaen beneath their clothes. She had no idea what happened, how it happened, or what mysterious things the learners were taught inside. It was whispered that those who entered had to demonstrate their mastery of the Medium in order to receive their chaen shirt. Since it took four years of intense learning to acquire the skills necessary even to enter, the trials experienced within must be beyond comprehension.

Lia had walked the grounds since she was old enough to get into mischief. She had run her hand across each surface and crevice around the entire structure. Sometimes she and Sowe had lain in the grass and imagined what it looked like inside. What gruesome Leerings were there? Scrollwork and carvings decorated the entire façade, with repeating themes like arches that overlapped. The front end of the Abbey was shorter than the rear side, two levels high compared to three and four further back as it rose like a mountain. Lia had already passed the main doors, which were always locked. No one ever entered through the main doors. But along the lower levels, there were several other entry points that had been carved into the design.

The pointers of the orb shifted as she approached, directing her along the north face of the Abbey. In fact, the orb directed her to a beautifully crafted doorway. It was made of three connected archways, each one fit within the one before it, shrinking slowly to the door itself which was made of solid wood and gleaming with pewter. The sinking feeling in her stomach grew more intense. Foreboding seethed inside her soul. Wretcheds were not allowed in the sanctuary. It was totally, absolutely, strictly forbidden. Why was the orb showing her the door?

She stopped at the threshold, shivering. Sweat popped up on her forehead. The pointers on the orb did not change – it pointed directly to the doors. What if she were caught? What if the Aldermaston found out? Did that really matter any more? Had she sinned enough by stealing the orb that he would cast her out of the abbey forever anyway? If that was so, then this would be her last chance to see the inside. Maybe her only chance.

She took a step forward and the foreboding darkened her thoughts even more, nearly making her cry. It was so big, so vast, so hugely important – and she, a wretched, was nothing. Then she noticed them. Her eyes were drawn to them, their subtly glowing eyes staring at her. There were small Leerings carved into base of the arches. One a man. One a woman. One a lion. One a sun. She realized that they were all exuding their power, warning her to back away. If they were Leerings, she might be able to control them. With a thought, she silenced them, and the sense of foreboding vanished. The oppression and heavy feeling fled, leaving her gasping with relief. Somewhere in the mist, a bird whistled its song, startling her.

It was only the Medium. The feelings were not real.

Lia mounted the steps and approached the pewter doors. Reaching out, she gripped the huge door-pull and tugged. It opened smoothly with the sound of a breathless sigh as the outside air was sucked in.

Holding her breath, she entered.

When the door shut behind her, all was dark until the Cruciger orb flared alive, shining like a lamp as it had for the Aldermaston in the night. The scene took her breath away. A sharp ceiling rose up, supporting by giant stone buttresses. The walls were adorned with colorful tapestries. Small tables stood here and there, the bases of solid onyx or marble carved into Leerings, and on the tabletops were pots of flowers in bloom, rich and vibrant, as if fresh sunlight fed them daily. Blooming flowers – in the dark!

Taking a step in wonderment, she stopped as soon as her toe left the woven mat and touched the polished, perfect, square tiles. Her shoes were dirty and wet, and not only would they leave marks on the polished floors, it did not feel right to be wearing them. Kneeling, she removed her shoes and wiped her feet on the hem of her cloak. Clutching the shoes, she stepped onto the cool tiles and followed the direction the pointers led her.