A black, stagnant pool of water ahead of her bubbled and rose, coalescing into the shape of a woman cloaked and
hooded, pale of face and dark of eye. ‘So, you are the Healer,’ said the woman, her voice deep and husky. ‘You are a pretty one. Come to me, pretty one!’
Derae laughed then, her fear evaporating. ‘What do you want of me?’
‘I want to know who you serve. You trouble me.’
‘Why should you be troubled?’ countered Derae. ‘I am, as you say, a Healer. For more than twenty years I have dwelt in the temple. I do not even know you, lady.’
‘Can you walk the many futures?’ the woman asked.
‘Can you?’ responded Derae.
‘What I can do is none of your concern!’ snapped the hooded newcomer.
‘I see that you cannot,’ said Derae softly. ‘Why is it of interest to you?’
The woman smiled, but her features did not soften. ‘Can we not be friends? I too am a Healer, and a seer. I merely felt your power and wished to know more of you.’
Derae shook her head. ‘We cannot be friends, you and I? we serve opposing powers. But then you do not desire friendship, do you? Speak the truth – or do you fear it will burn your tongue?’
‘Burn! You wish to see burning?’ hissed the woman. Flames leapt from the walls and Derae’s robes caught fire, her skin blistering. She did not move, or scream. A soft golden light enveloped her, healing her skin, wrapping itself around her in a protective cloak. Angry now, Derae raised her hand. Twin spears of barbed light flashed through the woman’s chest, hurling her back and pinning her to the wall; she screamed in pain, then touched the spears which disappeared in an instant.
The Dark Woman smiled. ‘Very fine,’ she said, ‘and I was wrong about you. I have nothing to fear.’
The castle shimmered and vanished, and Derae awoke back in the temple.
The battle in the ghostly castle disturbed her and she sought out Tamis. The old woman was still asleep, spittle drooling to her chin. Derae touched her lightly, but she did not wake. The last two decades had not been kind to the old
priestess: her powers were fading, along with her sight and hearing. Derae gripped her shoulder, shaking her more roughly.
‘Eh? What?’ muttered Tamis, rubbing at her eyes.
Derae brought her water and waited while the old woman adjusted from sleep to waking. ‘Why did you disturb me? I was dreaming of my first husband. What a man! Ha! Like a ram, he was.’
Derae told her about the castle and the dark-cloaked woman. Tamis listened in silence, then shook her head. ‘I don’t know who she was. We are not alone in this struggle, Derae. There are others like us, with Talent and Sight. Some serve the Light, others the Darkness. Why did it trouble you?’
‘She was frightened of me, but when I defeated her all her fear vanished. That makes no sense . . . does it?’
Tamis sighed and rose from the bed. Dawn light was seeping through the shuttered window. She dressed in a simple robe of white wool and walked out into the garden, Derae following her.
‘You say you defeated her. How?’ asked Tamis. Derae explained and the old woman sighed. ‘You tried to kill her, and in doing so she defeated you, for that is not the Way of the Source. And those who do not serve the Source serve only Chaos.’
‘But that is not true,’ protested Derae. ‘I am a Healer. I am not evil.’
‘No, you are not evil,’ agreed Tamis, her voice weary. ‘I have trained you badly. I have done so many things badly. My arrogance has been colossal. Cassandra tried to warn me but I would not listen. Yet I was wise once,’ she said suddenly, stooping to smell a budding rose. ‘I knew many secrets. But all wisdom is folly. We think we manipulate, but we are being manipulated. We think we have power, but we are as leaves in a storm. We do good works, that lead to evil. All is confusion. All is vanity.’