"It's a chapel," she said, running her fingers over the intricate marble patterns.
"Yes, it is. How did you know that?"
"These scenes are straight out of the Do-Korath," she said, looking up with chiding eyes. "Someone didn't pay much attention in chapel school."
Spirit coughed to himself. "Well "Don't even try and convince me you didn't go," Sarene said, turning back to the carvings. "You're obviously a nobleman. You would have gone to church to keep up appearances, even if you weren't devout."
"My lady is very astute. I am, of course. Domi's humble servant—but I'll admit that my mind sometimes wandered during the sermons."
"So, who were you?" Sarene asked conversationally, finally asking the question that had bothered her ever since she first met Spirit weeks before.
He paused. "The second son of the Lord of Ien Plantation. A very minor holding in the south of Arelon."
It could be the truth. She hadn't bothered memorizing the names of minor lords; it had been difficult enough to keep track of the dukes, counts, and barons. It could also be a lie. Spirit appeared to be at least a passable statesman. and he would know how to tell a convincing falsehood. Whatever he was. he had certainly learned some excellent leadership skills-attributes she had found, for the most part, lacking in the Arelish aristocracy.
"How long—" she began. turning away from the wall. Then she froze, her breath catching in her throat.
Spirit was glowing.
A spectral light grew from somewhere within; she could see the lines of his bones silhouetted before some awesome power that burned within his chest. His mouth opened in a voiceless scream; then he collapsed, quivering as the light flared.
Sarene rushed to his side. then paused. unsure what to do. Gritting her teeth, she grabbed him, lifting his head up to keep the spasms from pounding it repeatedly against the cold marble floor. And she felt something.
It brought bumps to her arms and sent a frigid shiver through her body. Something large. something impossibly immense, pressed against her. The air itself seemed to warp away from Spirit's body. She could no longer see his bones; there was too much light. It was as if he were dissolving into pure whiteness: she would have thought him gone if she hadn't felt his weight in her arms. His struggles jerked to a stop, and he fell limp.
Then he screamed.
A single note, cold and uniform, flew from his mouth in a defiant yell. The light vanished almost immediately, and Sarene was left with her heart pounding a rhythm in her breast. her arms bathed in anxious sweat, her breathing coming deeply and rapidly.
Spirit's eyes fluttered open a few moments later. As comprehension slowly returned, he smiled wanly and rested his head back against her arm. "When I opened my eyes, I though that time I had died for certain."
"What happened?" she asked anxiously. "Should I go for help?"
"No, this is becoming a common occurrence."
"Common?" Sarene asked slowly. "For . . . all of us?"
Spirit laughed weakly. "No, just me. I'm the one the Dor is intent on destroying.
"The Dor?" she asked. "What does Jesker have to do with this?"
He smiled. "So, the fair princess is a religious scholar as well?"
"The fair princess knows a lot of things," Sarene said dismissively. "I want to know why a 'humble servant of Domi' thinks the Jesker overspirit is trying to destroy him."
Spirit moved to sit, and she helped. "It has to do with AonDor," he explained with a tired voice.
"AonDor? That's a heathen legend." There wasn't much conviction to her words-not after what she had just seen.
Spirit raised an eyebrow. "So, it's all right for us to be cursed with bodies that won't die. but it's not possible for our ancient magic to work? Didn't I see you with a Seon?"
"That's different...." Sarene trailed off weakly, her mind turning back to Ashe.
Spirit, however, immediately drew her attention again. He raised his hand and began drawing. Lines appeared in the air. following his finger's movement.
Korathi teaching of the last ten years had done its best to downplay Elantris's magic, despite the Seons. Seons were familiar, almost like benevolent spirits sent by Domi for protection and comfort. Sarene had been taught, and had believed, that Elantris's magics had mostly been a sham.
Now, however, she was faced with a possibility. Perhaps the stories were true. "Teach me," she whispered. "I want to know."
¤ ¤ ¤
IT wasn't until later, after night had fallen, that Sarene finally allowed herself to cry. Spirit had spent the better part of the day explaining all he knew of AonDor. Apparently, he had done some extensive research on the subject. Sarene had listened with enjoyment, because of both the company and the distraction he provided. Before they had known it, dusk was falling outside the chapel windows, and Spirit had found her lodgings.
Now she lay curled up, shivering in the cold. The room's two other women slept soundly, neither one bothering with a blanket despite the frigid air. The other Elantrians didn't seem to notice temperature variation as much as Sarene did. Spirit claimed that their bodies were in a kind of stasis. that they had stopped working as they waited for the Dor to finish transforming them. Still, it seemed unpleasantly cold to Sarene.
The dismal atmosphere didn't do much for her mood. As she bunched up against the hard stone wall. she remembered the looks. Those awful looks. Most other Elantrians had been taken at night. and they would have been discovered quietly. Sarene, however, had been exhibited before the entire aristocracy. And at her own wedding, no less.
It was a mortifying embarrassment. Her only consolation was that she would probably never see any of them again. It was a small comfort, for by the same reasoning she would probably never see her father, mother, or brother again. Kiin and his family were lost to her. So, where homesickness had never hit her before, now it attacked with a lifetime's worth of repression.
Coupled with it was the knowledge of her failure. Spirit had asked her for news from the outside, but the topic had proven too painful for her. She knew that Telrii was probably already king, and that meant Hrathen would easily convert the rest of Arelon.
Her tears came silently. She cried for the wedding, for Arelon, for Ashe's madness, and for the shame dear Roial must have felt. Thoughts of her father were worst of all. The idea of never again feeling the love of his gentle banter—never again sensing his overwhelming, unconditional approval—brought to her heart an overpowering sense of dread.
"My lady?" whispered a deep. hesitant voice. "Is that you?"
Shocked, she looked up through her tears. Was she hearing things? She had to be. She couldn't have heard ...
"Lady Sarene?"
It was Ashe's voice.
Then she saw him, hovering just inside the window, his Aon so dim it was nearly invisible. "Ashe?" she asked with hesitant wonder.
"Oh, blessed Domi!" the Aon exclaimed, approaching quickly.
"Ashe!" she said, wiping her eyes with a quivering hand, numbed by shock. "You never use the Lord's name!"
"If He has brought me to you, then He has His first Seon convert," Ashe said, pulsing excitedly.
She could barely keep herself from reaching out and trying to hug the ball of light. "Ashe, you're talking! You shouldn't be able to speak, you should be . . ."
"Mad," Ashe said. "Yes, my lady, I know. Yet, I feel no differently from before.
"A miracle." Sarene said.
"A wonder, if nothing else," the Seon said. "Perhaps I should look into converting to Shu-Korath."
Sarene laughed. "Seinalan would never hear of it. Of course, his disapproval has never stopped us before, has it?"
"Not once, my lady."
Sarene rested back against the wall, content to simply enjoy the familiarity of his voice.
"You have no idea how relieved I am to find you, my lady. I have been searching for two days. I had begun to fear that something awful had happened to you."
"It did, Ashe," Sarene said, though she smiled when she said the words.
"I mean something more horrible, my lady," the Seon said. "I have seen the kind of atrocities this place can breed."
"It has changed, Ashe," Sarene said. I don't quite understand how he did it, but Spirit brought order to Elantris."
"Whatever he did, if it kept you safe. I bless him for it."
Suddenly, something occurred to her. If Ashe lived ... Sarene had a link to the outside world. She wasn't completely separated from Kiin and the others.
"Do you know how everyone is doing?" she asked.
"No, my lady. After the wedding dismissed, I spent an hour demanding that the patriarch let you free. I don't think he was disappointed by your fall. After that. I realized that I had lost you. I went to Elantris's gates, but I was apparently too late to see you get thrown into the city. However, when I asked the guards where you had gone, they refused to tell me anything. They said it was taboo to speak of those who had become Elantrians, and when I told them that I was your Seon, they grew very uncomfortable and stopped speaking to me. I had to venture into the city without information. and I've been searching for you ever since."
Sarene smiled, picturing the solemn Seon—essentially, a pagan creation—arguing with the head of the Korathi religion. "You didn't arrive too late to see me get thrown into the city, Ashe. You arrived too early. Apparently, they only throw people in before a certain time of day, and the marriage happened quite late. I spent the night in the chapel, and they brought me to Elantris this afternoon."
"Ah," the Seon said, bobbing with comprehension.
"In the future you can probably find me here, in the clean section of the city."
"This is an interesting place," Ashe said. "I had never been here before—it is well masked from the outside. Why is this area different from the others?"
"You'll see," she said. "Come back tomorrow."
"Come back, my lady?" Ashe asked indignantly. "I don't intend to leave you."
"Just briefly, my friend," Sarene said. "I need news from Kae, and you need to let the others know I am all right."
"Yes, my lady."
Sarene paused for a moment. Spirit had gone through great efforts to make sure no one on the outside knew of New Elantris; she couldn't betray his secret so offhandedly, even if she did trust the people Ashe would tell. "Tell them you found me, but don't tell them any of what you see in here."
"Yes, my lady," Ashe said, his voice confused. "Just a moment, my lady. Your father wishes to speak with you." The Seon began to pulse, then his light melted, dripping and reforming into Eventeo's large oval head.
" 'Ene?" Eventeo asked with frantic concern.
"I'm here, Father."
"Oh, thank Domi!" he said. "Sarene, are you unharmed?"
"I'm fine, Father," she assured him, strength returning. She suddenly knew that she could do anything and go anywhere as long as she had the promise of Eventeo's voice.
"Curse that Seinalan! He didn't even try to let you free. If I weren't so devout, I'd behead him without a second thought."