The Unmaking by Catherine Egan Page A

phrase.
    Rhianu laughed and embraced her, replying, “We are honoured and humbled that the Shang Sorceress should again grace our inadequate hallways with the soles of her blessed feet.”
    Like all the Faithful, Rhianu wore a long black robe. Her head and face were covered with a beaded hood and scarf so that only her pale, lidless eyes were visible. The red beads on her hood indicated rank. She was a priestess of the Ancients and loyal servant of the Oracle. The Faithful believed that the Ancients had written the story of the worlds in signs, that the future was laid out already and would come to pass as They had ordained. They believed also that the Oracle was the messenger of the Ancients, through whom the Ancients communicated with the beings they had left behind. Whether indeed the Ancients spoke to or through her, nobody in Tian Xia questioned that the Oracle knew and could see things that no other being in the worlds could. Eliza had met the current Oracle before, but she had been in danger of being killed at the time and would not have known what to ask at any rate. It was time they met again.
    The main temple was a giant dome of red earth, honeycombed with vividly painted chambers and corridors. Wooden walkways and stairways snaked all around the outside of it. As they made their way up one of these stairways, Eliza could look out over the tops of all the smaller red earth temples branching off from this one to the black cliffs that encircled the lake of the Crossing. The Crossing was both the centre of Tian Xia and its edge.
    “I pray to the Ancients that you prosper in the light of day and by the shadow of night,” said Eliza, which was the closest thing she knew to saying, How are you?
    “Your kindness is to me like a boundless sea of persimmon petals,” said Rhianu pointedly, for that was the phrase Eliza had been looking for to match with hospitality.
    “Lah, yes! Persimmon petals!” exclaimed Eliza. They ducked into a narrow entryway and Rhianu led Eliza down the hallway to the central spiral staircase, which formed the spine of the structure. Rhianu had not asked and likely would not ask Eliza why she had come but Eliza thought she should explain. It was not easy and she was not helped either by the dizzying descent down the spiraling staircase, where she could only ever see the dark tip of Rhianu’s hood ahead of her as she vanished around the curve.
    “In ancient days I came here to meditate upon the Great Truth,” began Eliza. Of course, it wasn’t correct to say ancient days but she didn’t know how else to express before now . “The Faithful welcomed me with persimmon petals.” She heard Rhianu snort ahead of her. She was making a horrible muddle of it. “Now I come to this sacred place to...respect...honour, and I am inadequate, a wish deep as the ocean and wide as the sky to consult the Great Oracle of the Ancients with my...question.”
    Rhianu was silent in response to this. Eliza followed her the rest of the way down the stairs. They stopped in a small chamber for Eliza to leave her weapon and put on the robes of the Faithful. Then they continued along a sloping, unlit passageway so narrow that the walls on either side brushed against her shoulders. Eliza could not see Rhianu ahead of her in the darkness but followed the gentle slap of her footsteps and the steady intake and release of her breath.
    The footsteps stopped and there was a slight rustle of clothing. Eliza stood still in the dark. Rhianu began to croon something in the Language of First Days. It sounded like The greatest secrets of your servants are ever protected but the words for protect and remember were rather similar, as were the words for secret and truth, so it was hard for Eliza to be sure. Then Rhianu stood and took Eliza by the hand, pulling her down towards the floor. Eliza felt along the flagstones with her hands for the one that had fallen away. She reached through the gap until her fingers touched the rope