Treacherous Witch

38. The Abbess Sopphora

"The Maskamery army is well-prepared and highly trained but thinly distributed and lacking in number. The key weakness is not the army, however. Nine individuals hold almost all the magical power in the realm. If they were to fall, the country's defences would all but disappear."
Titus Steward, Letter to the Emperor, #05

She awoke in an armchair. Her head was splitting. Valerie grimaced, lifting a hand to her temple, and realised all at once that she was much closer to the silvertree. She could feel it like a pulse just out of her reach.

"You have a concussion. Heal yourself."

The voice was female, assured and smooth. On the circular table in front of her was a tray of tea and biscuits. A pale hand, adorned with rings, reached out to pick up a cup. Her head throbbed again. Valerie forced herself to concentrate, healing the pain away.

The room came into sharp focus. They were in a sitting room like one at the palace, fancy and full of light. The billowing curtains were embroidered with trees, and every piece of furniture was a masterpiece of craftswomanship. The woman sitting before her was fancy too, her velvet gown cut in the Maskamery style but with a northern twist: a silk scarf artfully wrapped around her shoulders and neck. Her black hair was drawn into a bun, her wide mouth set in a secretive smile, and her eyes were green.

Like Bakra's. Like the queen.

"You're Abbess Sopphora."

The woman arched an eyebrow. "I am. To whom am I speaking?"

This was it. Her chance. She sat up straight. "Valerie Crescent. What happened to Lavinia?"

"Who is Lavinia?"

"My cousin. I asked her to take me to you, and your men attacked us."

"My men won't harm an innocent woman. Would you like some tea?"

She accepted in bemusement as Sopphora poured her tea. Apparently, they were in no hurry.

"They used force," Sopphora went on, "because you're a sorcerer, and I don't allow rogue sorcerers in my city."

"I told them I'm not a sorcerer. I'm a priestess."

The Abbess raised her eyebrows. "A priestess where?"

"I fled from the north to Jairah during the war. Ask Prince Bakra. I was part of the plot to assassinate the Chancellor. They captured me at the palace, and the prince told me to stay there and spy for the resistance, to pass back all the information I could."

"Then why are you not at your post?"

She paused, taken aback by the cool tone of the Abbess. Valerie forced herself to try the tea, which was too sweet for her liking. She put it down on the table and went on:

"Because I have important news to tell him."

"Could you not have passed on your message to one of our operatives?"

"No. My contact was caught by the Drakonians. I didn't have anyone else to go to, so I decided it was time to escape."

"What is your message?"

Valerie hesitated, looking around. Sopphora was Bakra's aunt; they were on the same side. She ought to trust her, yet...

"The man who found me," she said. "How did he know what I was?"