The Stone by the Stream (Part 7)
Cynthia’s mind raced. She might be an oracle someday! The thought awed her. Becoming an oracle went far beyond simply knowing about the Goddess, or even worshipping and devoting herself to her — it meant learning the techniques to invite the Huntress to possess her inmost being. To surrender her will to the Goddess so utterly that for a time the oracle could quite literally become one with Her.
Who could imagine the ecstasy it must be to merge with the divinity, if only fleetingly?
Cynthia had always felt an affinity for the Huntress, and she’d daydreamed now and then about being an oracle. Of course it had never been an idea she took seriously.
But now the sapphire-eyed priestess of the Temple said Cynthia might have the potential to become an oracle. And who in the world could know better than her?
Yet she couldn’t possibly trust the priestess.
Not after Agatha’s armed escort in the night. Not after the Temple acolyte had blindfolded her and taken her back to this dingy little room. And especially not after what the priestess had said about the drowned Silas.
Drowned deep in the stream with a half-dozen bottles of mead in the area? Did she honestly believe Cynthia to believe that story after all she’d seen — and heard — that night? The four men gathered with their spears in the clearing. The panicked look on Agatha’s face when she’d heard the men had seen what looked like a woman on the other side of the stream — especially after she’d heard that Silas had gone to look for her. And that sound, that terrifying ethereal sound in the night, that sound that could only be the voice of a naiad.
Could the priestess honestly expect her to believe Silas got drunk and drowned in the night?
No, it was impossible. The priestess was asking Cynthia to accept the Temple’s version of events. But why would it matter so much to the Temple that no one know the true manner of Silas’s death?
And for that matter: why would it matter to the temple that Cynthia was trying to learn about the stone and the naiads?
No, she couldn’t possibly become an Initiate. Not knowing what she knew.
“Are you ready to be Initiated, Cynthia?” the priestess repeated sweetly, with no trace of impatience.
In spite of herself, Cynthia felt the urge to cry out that nothing on Earth would give her more joy than to be Initiated immediately. Such was the magnetic power of the priestess’s personality.
“Do I… do I have to decide now?” Cynthia croaked at last.
“It would make us all very happy if you decided to respond to the Goddess’s call immediately,” the priestess said. “But we understand if you want to take your time to think things over. Remember: the Goddess always knows the ones who are called to her service. But we are all of us perfectly free to ignore that call. So that’s where we stand for now: you’re going to think things over?”
Cynthia nodded. “I have one last question, though.”
“Anything, Cynthia.”
“As an Initiate, would I be able to learn more about the stone and the clearing? And about the… creatures who show up there sometimes?”
For the first time in their interview the priestess assumed a hard expression. “The life of a devotee is not one where one is able to indulge one’s curiosity at whim. It is a matter of submitting oneself to the process of becoming a pure instrument of the Goddess’s will. But that being said… it’s not out of the question that you would someday be able to study the clearing at your leisure.”
“And until that day…”
“Until that day you are forbidden to return to the clearing, whether you have been Initiated or not.”
“I am very curious about the clearing.”
The priestess softened again. “And it’s no wonder you should be curious. That curiosity is one of the reasons we dare to hope you have the potential to be a great oracle someday. But the path of an oracle is fraught with pitfalls — particularly for a raw talent like yours.”
“You said the candidate who came before me failed to become an oracle.”
“She was not patient enough to accept the years of discipline it takes to gain proper access to the deeper mysteries. We’re only trying to help you avoid her mistakes. You may doubt my words — the Goddess knows you have reason to doubt them! — but the Temple is not your enemy. Once you accept your calling, you will see the Temple is the greatest friend you have ever had.”
“I’d still like some time to think it over,” Cynthia said.
“Of course, child. Of course. You have all the time in the world,” the priestess said.
The priestess took her leave, quickly followed by the return of the acolyte from the entrance to the Chamber of Initiation. Blindfolded, Cynthia was led to the main chamber, where she removed the blindfold and found herself momentarily dazzled by the light.
“So sorry to hear you won’t be joining us today,” the woman said in a businesslike tone, remaining squarely in front of the stone double doors.
Cynthia offered a polite goodbye and headed out of the temple, where the sweeping acolyte stood calmly going about her work, just as before.
“So, how did your little meeting go?”
Cynthia shrugged. “She wanted me to be Initiated immediately. Said I might be able to become an oracle someday. I told them I’d think about it. And… I’m sorry, but I think I might have gotten you into a little trouble over what you told me about Silas.”
The acolyte laughed. “Don’t you worry about me for one moment. Wouldn’t be the first time I’ve had to evade the wrath of a priestess. Anyway, I’m not the one we need to worry about.”
“What do you mean?”
“Cynthia…” the acolyte said, a look of genuine concern in her dark and usually so ironic eyes, “If there’s one thing all the temples in all the world have in common, it’s this: they all believe an oracle who is not a part of a temple is too dangerous to live.”