He raised a finger toward the skylight. “He sends the signs and the portents.
You make no move He does not know about.”
She laughed. “Rashan, you are too devout. The Bright Father has more to do than
watch constantly over me.”
But Rashan shook his head. “You must accept his plan for you, child,” he urged.
“You are the Daughter of the Sun, the salvation and guardian of the Rankan
faith.”
She laughed again. “Are you still insisting on that? Look at me, Priest. I’m
flesh and blood. I’m no priestess, and certainly no goddess. No matter how many
dreams come to you, that will not change. I’m the daughter of Lowan Vigeles,
nothing more.”
Rashan bowed politely. “In time you will learn otherwise. It isn’t for me to
argue with Savankala’s daughter. You will accept your heritage or reject it as
fate decrees.” He went to stand before the altar of Vashanka, and his shoulders
slumped. “But there is a void in the pantheon. Vashanka has fallen silent and
will not answer prayer.” He turned and leveled a finger at her. “I tell you,
Chenaya, if something has happened to the Son of Savankala, then the time will
come for the Daughter to accept Her responsibilities.”
“No more of this talk!” Chenaya snapped. “I tell you, Rashan, it borders on
blasphemy. No more, I say!” She paused to collect herself. The first time Rashan
had suggested such a thing it had frightened her beyond words. She herself had
received dreams from the Bright Father, and she knew their power. In such a
dream Savankala had granted her beauty, promised she would never lose at