The Stone by the Stream (Part 2)

“So what you’re saying is there’s no way I can see one of the priestesses today?” Cynthia asked.

“Not through official channels, no.”

“Through unofficial channels…?” Cynthia whispered, raising her eyebrows.

The woman glanced to left and right. Cynthia did the same, realizing as she did so that it might look suspicious if anyone was watching and saw them both searching the chamber. Fortunately, it turned out no one was there to be found.

Or at least they didn’t see anyone…

“There’s nothing I can do for you today,” the woman said. “I have to guard this door today, and if they find I’ve left my post they’ll… well, it won’t be pleasant.”

Cynthia stepped back, examining the doorway. About twelve feet high, the double doors would have opened outward, although Cynthia had a hard time imagining the slabs of stone ever moving. The doorway, also marble, was filigreed with curlicues along its length, which on a closer look revealed themselves to be in the shapes of alternating bows and crescent moons.

“What’s behind this door, anyway?” Cynthia asked. “There’s always someone guarding it when I come here, even on festival days with my family.”

“Behind this door there is the Chamber of Initiation, which also houses the Initiates’ quarters.”

“But not the priestesses’ quarters?”

The woman smiled. “Still trying, eh? But no, the priestesses have their quarters still further back, adjoining the Chamber where the Mysteries take place.”

“The Mysteries?”

“I don’t know any more about them than you do, child. For now, at least.”

“And is that the last of the chambers?” Cynthia asked.

The woman shrugged. “That I do not know. Only a priestess could tell you that.”

“You said there’s nothing you can do to help me… today?”

“That’s right. But meet me at the clearing by the stream tomorrow evening, at sunset. There may be some help I can offer you then. Oh, and what is your name, child?”

“I’m Cynthia.”

“And I am Agatha,” the woman said. Then she frowned. “Cynthia. Cynthia? And your parents are Ariston and Lydia?”

“That’s right…”

“Interesting. Very interesting. Yes, I’ll certainly meet you tomorrow evening and help you out in any way I can.”

“Why does it matter who my — ”

“Unfortunately, I can’t explain anything here, Cynthia… but there will be time. You mark my words, there will be time, you can trust Agatha on this. There will be time, as sure as the Arrow of the Huntress.”

Curious, encouraged, and disappointed all at once, Cynthia left the main chamber, passing the bloodstained altar on her way out. She briefly considered hanging around the temple for the rest of the day on the off chance she could catch one of the priestesses unawares, but thought better of it. Too great a chance of alienating a potential friend in Agatha that way.

Still wondering what it could possibly matter who her parents were, Cynthia walked out of the main chamber and into the entranceway, so absorbed in her thoughts that she nearly walked straight into the acolyte who was sweeping the floors.

“Watch where you’re going, idiot!” the acolyte shouted.

“I’m sorry,” Cynthia said distractedly.

“So did you find the answers you were looking for?” she asked.

Cynthia shook her head.

“I didn’t think you would. Nobody finds answers in the Temple of the Huntress.”

“Then why did you become an acolyte here?”

The woman snorted, a vulgar and cynical sound that rang even more vulgar and cynical coming from a woman who couldn’t be twenty years old yet. “Let’s just say my family couldn’t help but volunteer their daughter to become one of the goddess’s virgin devotees. And as for me… well, I love sweeping floors.”

Cynthia was torn between a desire to leave immediately because she sensed something she couldn’t quite understand lay behind the acolyte’s words, and the desire to remain — because she sensed something she couldn’t quite understand lay behind the acolyte’s words. She hesitated for only a few moments, because soon enough the acolyte tapped her shoulder, saying, “Excuse me, but I have to sweep here too, you know.”

Which was enough to free Cynthia from her reverie. She continued on her way out of the temple, her mind whirling with thoughts of the stone, the naiads, her parents, and the acolyte’s insinuating words.

Nothing for it but wait until she could meet with Agatha tomorrow though.

Just as she was passing out of earshot of the temple, however, the acolyte shouted to her, “And fair warning: maybe you should be a little less curious about stones when you come across them. It’s a lesson we should all learn. Especially since you’re too young to be an Initiate.”

Cynthia nodded and continued on her way, muttering some words of confused thanks.