Chapter 7
That night, Eppie dreamed of Ara, the first priestess, golden and twice as large as life, wrapped in the gauzy red of the peresi. The dream Ara touched Eppie with her silken hand, stroked her until she trembled with desire. “Come to me,” Ara said. Eppie looked down at herself and saw that she was robed in Anara’s colors, flowing like the dragon. “Come back to me,” Ara said. Eppie felt the temple walls wrap around her like an embrace, enshrining her body with chains of a new hunger. She looked to the distance, to the hills. Was that Enat there, sword in hand, or was it Thorat?
Eppie woke in a sweat as the sky was just beginning to brighten. She took a practice sword down from the wall and swung it in a flurry of cuts, striving to drive away the ache of longing from the dream. Sh
