Treacherous Witch

21. Twice Blessed

"The thrice-blessed are the most powerful priestesses in Maskamere. They have absolute authority over the land where their silvertrees grow. That's why I order them out of their abbeys and into Jairah every year. They need to remember that they answer to me."
Interview with Queen Shikra III, as told to Master Anwen

Lord Avon was true to his word. Not half an hour after they'd arrived in the palace harbour, he escorted her back to the basement of the temple with a contingent of his men including Captain Doryn and Master Anwen, the only person who showed any delight at seeing her.

"How was your trip, my dear?" he asked. "Did you see the Glasshouse? The Serpent's Crest bridge?"

For her part, Valerie was distracted by the intensity of the magic in the chamber which had taken on a different quality. Her memory of it seemed blurry, unfocused. This time the colours were more intense, and she had a sense of the magic in the seal, the way it flowed over the door in three distinct layers...

"A moment," said Avon. "Let the girl do her work."

She stepped forward and pressed her hand against the stone.

The seal can only be broken by a woman.

A feminine silhouette treading delicately through shifting yellow sands, azure blue waves rolling into the shore behind her...

The seal can only be broken by a sorcerer thrice-blessed.

The figure stepped onto firm ground, green palm trees rising before her. Three trees. They turned silver as she passed her hand over each trunk in turn, glowing under the blazing sun...

The seal can only be broken by...

A falcon plummeted out of the sky and transformed into a golden crown which the woman placed on her head... The smell of roses... The figure reached out, blurring in the summer haze...

Valerie opened her eyes, frustrated. She'd lost it. She couldn't quite grasp the end of the vision. Thrice-blessed, she thought. I was so worried about finding an excuse not to open the seal, and it turns out I can't do it anyway. She was still only partway there.

An impulse to dash herself against the rock darted into her mind. She pushed it away in annoyance, stepping away from the stone door.

"What did you find?" Avon asked at once.

They were all looking at her, Valerie realised wearily, eight Drakonian men, guards and lords, and all of them helpless and ignorant in the face of Queen Shikra's magic.

She cleared her throat. "I could see more clearly, my lord. The seal has three locks. I have to fulfil all three before I can open it. The seal can only be broken by a woman. It can only be broken by a sorcerer thrice-blessed. And..." She shook her head. "I couldn't tell what the last one was. It was buried too deep."

A murmur had broken out as soon as she mentioned the term thrice-blessed. She could feel Avon's eyes boring into her. Anwen was already muttering excitedly and scribbling notes.

"Thrice-blessed," said Avon. "You mean you still cannot open it."

She looked back at him steadily. "I'm afraid not, my lord."

Avon turned away. "Master Anwen, I would speak with you." Then to her: "Go back to your quarters."

*

The next morning, Lord Avon took her out into a secluded spot by the river where dragonflies danced over the water's haze. Servants provided them with a picnic: a chequered blanket and a wicker basket full of sweet-smelling bread and fruit, ice-cold water, and mint tea. Valerie tucked her skirt beneath her and waited for Avon to say something. He was staring across the river, knees drawn up, arms crossed—a brooding look if she ever saw one.