At the entrance to the grotto I hesitated for what seemed like a century. I had not expected to be overwhelmed with memories of Ryaa and his short time there. I may have continued to stare off into the waters if Neoma hadn’t placed a hand on my shoulder.

I flinched then gave her a weak smile. “Sorry,” I said and then swam inside. I pulled myself up onto the rocky lip of the pool then walked to a relief that was carved into the wall. Briefly I looked at the spot where Ryaa used to sleep then pressed on the arm of a stone maiden.

The wall rumbled and as gears began to turn within it. Dust plumed from the edges of the wall as it slowly rose into the ceiling. A breeze caught our clothing as the pressure changed in the grotto and the air was sucked into a long corridor.

The slap of our soles echoed around us as we made our way through the corridor that had survived the flooding 400 years ago. The green marbled hall opened up suddenly into a small lush valley. Cypress lined the gravel road that led up to a hill atop which sat an orchard, and in its center Sanctuary, our church.

Before the flood Geyser was grassy farmland tended by farmers and cattle. The lord’s hold sat upon a hill that overlooked it, but the highest hill was reserved for the Gentle God. Now centuries later the Gentle God shared the hill with cattle tended by their priests.

I left the gravel road traveled down a little used path that led to a small pond hidden from the road by hedges. A small wooden bench was the solitary decoration.

“I’ve never seen this part of Sanctuary before,” Neoma said as we sat down.

“Most prefer visiting the larger goldfish pond closest to the temple. I like this one because of the privacy.”

“Milady, may I ask you something?”

I shrugged. “I don’t mind.”

“Are you okay?”

I laughed. “Of course I’m okay. Why wouldn’t I be? I’m getting married.”

“You were among the enemy for over a month and one of your servants tried to kill you. Instead you killed her. No one would simply be okay.”

I continued to laugh as tears ran down my cheeks. How was I going to explain to her how I felt at that moment? I felt trapped in a position that I had not been trained for. I no longer was a commoner, but at the same time I was not nobility.

While Ryaa and Brother Roberts had been kind, my guards had not. I still bore scars where Rose bit me and scars from killing Cia.

The truth was I was okay, but I would never be great again.

I covered my face with my hands and focused on breathing between my sobs. My lungs burned, my throat was raw, and I couldn’t stop trembling even though it was a warm summer day. I felt Neoma rub small circles on my back while I wrestled with my emotions.

Was I allowed to feel so remorse? Should I allow myself to feel so remorse? I was a murderer. Only the villagers seemed to realize this or else Cadfael was in denial of what I had done. What was I going to do? How could I be a wife and mother if I was so horrible? Why did I need to be alive when Cia and Ryaa were dead?

Suddenly I felt warmer to the point of being uncomfortable. At just the edge of my hearing were the sounds of trumpets. I stood unsteadily trying to locate the sound.

Confused Neoma stood with me, her hand still on my back. “Sol, are you alright? You look spooked,” she said gently. I grabbed her wrist

“Do you hear trumpets?”

“No, do you?”

I nodded and swallowed dryly. Was I going insane?

“Lady Sol, you feel warm. I think you should sit down.”

“No, not until I find out what’s going on.” I slowly turned in a circle. The sound was coming from the pond.

I stepped into the water and it began to bubble around my feet.

“Sol, let go, you’re too hot!”

I released Neoma’s wrist and stepped further into the pond. The surface became frothy, but the water did not feel hot as I dived beneath the surface. Underneath the surface the water was moving violently as bubbles rose rapidly from the silty bed. All I could see was the refracted light as it bounced from bubble in a giant cloud of gases.

Sol.

I looked around for the voice’s originator.

Sol.

Unexpectedly I felt arms wrap around me and the brief sensation of lips on my own.

Sol.

“Who are you?” I sang.

The bubbles receded and I felt my temperature drop at the same moment. I climbed out of the pond and found Neoma waiting for me patiently. Her eyes we a little wide, but her stance was confident. “Lady Sol, are you alright?” she asked in a pitched voice.

I nodded. “I am. Are you sure you didn’t hear trumpets or see anyone else?”

“No there’s only us.” She took a step toward me. “I think we should go back.” She put down her spear and approached me cautiously with her palms up.

My heart rose to my throat and I took a step back.

“Milady, it’s okay if you don’t want to go back now, but I think you should at least sit down,” she said taking another step forward.

“Neoma, you’re scaring me,” I said and took another step back. She dropped her arms.

“Your hair is white.”

“What?” I turned back to the pond and looked at my reflection. Though murky, I could clearly see that my hair was now as white as the lilies Cadfael grew in his garden. I undid the complicated bun that my hair was in and looked at the long curly strands. My once ebony locks were now nearly translucent. No wonder Neoma wanted to go back.

How was I going to explain this to Cadfael? I knew I would come up with something on the way back, but how was I going to hide my hair? “Do you think the priests will have some spare cloth that I can borrow?” I said as I let my hair fall.

“Maybe.” Neoma picked up her spear, tested the weight then shifted her grip. “I’m ready when you are.”

“I’m sure.”

We made our way up the road to the garden. I could see Neoma looking at me from the side of her eye, but she remained silent. I played with my hair, twining the strands around my fingers then releasing them.

As we climbed a set of steps the sound of chimes filled the air. A squawk marred the sound and a chicken came hurtling toward us followed closely by a priest. “Excuse me! Excuse me!” he shouted as the chicken sprinted away. He stopped three steps below us and hunched over wheezing.

“Sir, are you okay?” Neoma and I said in unison.

“Hello… girls. Are you… enjoying… your visit?” the priest said between gasps. “You’re a little… young… to have white hair? Is it a… new fashion… choice… for nobles?”

“N-no,” I said quickly. “That’s why we’re here. Something strange happened in the small pond down the hill.” I pointed to where we were minutes before.

“What sort of strange thing?” the priest asked as he straightened up.

“The water bubbled like boiling water. There were trumpets and a voice.”

“She was hot to the touch,” Neoma cut in.

“May I see your hands miss?” the priest said to me. I walked down a step and held them out and he turned them over. “You were in the presence of the Gentle God. I still feel their power in you.”

I laughed. “Isn’t the Gentle God supposed to be, I don’t know, manifesting for you or devout followers?”

The priest tsked. “They manifest not only to the devout, but also to those they have chosen for a singular purpose.”

“Purpose? Well I wasn’t given a purpose. I think it was a mistake. A fluke.”

As soon as the words left my mouth a gust of wind blew down the hill and stirred up a vortex around me. I tried to take a step forward but was buffeted backwards as if the wind was herding me up the hill. I slipped on a step and the wind caught me and carried me up the hill.

“Sol!” Neoma shouted. Her mouth hung open in horror as I was swiftly carried away. She began to sprint up the steps followed by the priest. The chimes in the garden were now clanging loudly and drawing the attention of more priests.

Soon a crowd was following me as the wind brought me deeper into the garden. Frightened I covered my face. What was happening? Had I invoked the wrath of the Gentle God?

Unexpectedly the wind dropped me. I stumbled forward and caught my balance on the arm of a stone statue. The white quartz illuminated under my touch and moved.

Startled I fell back on my ass with the statue following me down and grabbing my arms. The face of the statue became a bronze flame that moved like molten metal. The heat of the flames seared my face. I flinched and tried to hide my face, but the statue’s held my eyes in thrall.

SOL!

My name echoed loudly in the garden. Underneath was the rustle of cloth as the people behind me moved back.

SO LIKE YOUR MOTHER…

The statue released me and returned to its position with arms raised toward the sky.

My heart beat rapidly in my chest while my blood roared in my ears nearly drowning out the sound of the priests around me. My mouth dried making my tongue feel thick and heavy.

“Lady Sol?” Neoma said as she knelt beside me. Her spear was held out in a threatening manner causing the priests to shift back in fear. I grabbed her wrist and lowered her hand.

“Neoma, don’t. They won’t hurt me,” I said hoarsely. In truth I was more afraid of the statue than of them.

I gained my feet with Neoma’s aid then turned to face my silent audience. I saw with surprise that there were villagers among the priests. Self-consciously I thought of my hair and how different it was. Even if I dyed it after I returned home rumors would still be spread.

Home? I thought again. Did I really refer to Cadfael’s house as home? A new thought made me ball my hands into fists.

Was it possible that I felt like I didn’t belong because I was in denial that I wanted to belong?

I looked deep in my heart and realized that I wanted my place to be at Cadfael’s, no, Vael’s side. Even if the Gentle God had a purpose for me or Ai wanted to see my neck severed, I would fight to remain with Vael.

He was my home.