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“Not yet, mother. Please listen.”

The bells of Halkamas rang.

Gishna’s eyes widened.

“It’s winter!” she said. “Who rang the bells? Who gave the command?”

Julissa pursed her lips. The girl was certainly patient. At least I’ve taught her that much with my wretched state, Gishna thought.

“Mother, I ordered them to be rung. We had to before the others could sound theirs. For solidarity.”

“What?” Gishna said and coughed. Her body rattled.

More bells rang. Roturra’s bells. And not long after Daushalan’s. Shortly after, Zauhune’s tinkled pathetically. Joumina and her expensive silver-plated bells. What a sham and show! Just like the woman. She let out a breath, crackling and damp. The bells could only mean one thing.

“Water,” she said to a servant. “Help me up!”

“It is Zaidra,” Julissa said. “She passed during winter. They’ve just now sent word.”

“With time enough to prepare for a grand funeral.”

Julissa nodded, and said, “They mean to present three acolytes of fine lineage to all Vaidolin.”

Gishna smiled. She had been paying attention all this time.

“They will put them on the high council,” Julissa continued, “and propose them as voices.”

Gishna flapped her hands to hush her as the servants pattered out of the chamber.

“Don’t worry about them,” Julissa said. “If they say a word, I will throw their families out on the border like refuse. But you can never be certain these days.”

Gishna chuckled softly. “You will be a formidable matron.”

Julissa didn’t smile.

“Don’t worry, my girl! I’m still here. I’ll hold on to ensure the arrangements are honored by Ilor’Vakayne's new matron.”

Zaidra had ruled as matron for seven hundred years, longer than any of the previous Vakayne high matrons since the Fall. Before then, the Vakayne matrons were legendary. Gishna remembered when Zaidra first entered the high council. Even then, she’d not impressed anyone except she was the matron of a legendary line and house. She’d proved strong, a kith spine, pure Vakayne steel. Gishna would miss her, a sister to her all these centuries, a shared voice. A shared conspiracy. Even if she was prickly and taciturn.

“It was good you rang the bells,” Gishna said as her mind finally cleared from the dream’s haze. “Of course you did. The act of a future matron. Well done.”

Julissa relaxed. “I hear the daughter is worse than the mother, even more headstrong, a fearsome thing.”

“She is young and therefore pliable,” Gishna said. “And we have something she wants. Now your brother must play his part. I didn’t pick him randomly. His qualities must come to the fore now. That languid stance. Those proud eyes. And your other brothers, all handsome and capable. Then, there is your sister. Now is the time for deeper alliances, while our champion tender revives the east valley’s sorcery.”

“And once the valmasin arrive,” Julissa said, “they could prove the quality to Vakayne’s satisfaction, and we could make those deep bonds once more.”

Vakayne, with its three dwindling blood houses, needed new blood. They all did. Even though the valmasin were once again delayed, Gishna felt excitement, younger than her body allowed. All her plans were finally coming together.

“Yes, another year,” she said. “I think I can last five more, even. By then, I will leave you, my daughter, with a stronger house, a house to be the light of Vaidolin. The orchards healthy under Master Taul’s guidance, the taint eradicated.”

“It will be a legendary funeral,” Julissa said.

“One to mark a new age, my daughter.”

The future was too bright to imagine. Gishna sighed, her breath crackling in her chest.

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