The Shadowed Throne by K. J. Taylor Read Free Book Online

Arenadd’s idea, and, at first, Saeddryn had disagreed. The Night God was meant to be worshipped in the open air, where the moon that was her eye could shine down on her people and witness their prayers. But Arenadd had been insistent. It was time to move on, he had said, time to shed the old ways and go on into the modern age.
    â€œThe Southerners think we’re savages,” he had said when Saeddryn argued. “Too uncivilised to rule ourselves. But we’re not, and if we want to survive, then we have to accept that the past is dead.”
    Persuasive words, but, then, he was a persuasive man. Even Saeddryn had given in to his wishes, and once the new Temple was ready—built according to a design Arenadd himself helped to draw up—she had quickly come to agree with him. It had been the proudest moment of her life when he had named her the new—the first—High Priestess of Malvern.
    â€œYou like this new Temple of ours,” he had said. “Well, now it’s yours.”
    Saeddryn felt the memory of those days move through her as she walked slowly down the main street outside the Eyrie, with Aenae following closely beside her. Ever since Laela’s ascension, the big griffin had kept a close eye on her. He’d been just a youngster back then, when Malvern was freed from Southern rule, and she was young, too, so young, and happier. Everything had been so clear back then, and now it wasn’t.
    â€œWhy are we going to the Temple?” Aenae’s voice interrupted her thoughts.
    Saeddryn took a moment to answer. “Because I need to pray.” She spoke griffish as a mark of respect though, like all civilised griffins, Aenae understood human speech.
    â€œPrayer,” Aenae huffed. “Even after so many years together, I still do not understand it. You speak to another human who is not there—who was never there and does not exist.”
    â€œIt’s good for me,” said Saeddryn, who had heard this sort of thing from him before. “It helps me think. Sometimes, a woman needs t’be calm an’ still for her thoughts to be clear.” She said nothing about finding guidance from the Night God—she knew Aenae would only sneer. No griffin believed in any kind of god; to them it was all human nonsense.
    His kind did, however, respect the human ability to think and plan, so Aenae accepted her answer and said nothing else.
    The Temple doors were open when Saeddryn reached them, though worshippers rarely went inside except at night. There were important rites to be conducted then, at moonrise, and people liked to come and witness them. Saeddryn would conduct the rituals herself, except when she had some other important business and would leave it to one of the thirteen lesser priestesses.
    Despite the fact that it was daytime, the Temple was still dark inside. Its windows, which had once been intended to let in sunlight, had now been blacked out, and the only light came from the lamps.
    Saeddryn paused briefly in the doorway to admire her Temple. Even now, its beauty never failed to touch her.
    Once, before the war, the people of the North had worshipped in stone circles, on hilltops and forest clearings. But here, in the Temple, it was just the same. The floor was covered in elaborate tile work, showing a textured pattern of grass, earth, and fallen leaves. Pillars stood here and there—not in lines, but spaced irregularly, like trees in a wood. To add to the effect, they, too, were tiled, in shades of brown and silver, like bark but with a touch of the ethereal to it. Silver lantern holders jutted from their sides, shaped like curling branches, and the blue-glass lanterns that hung from them gave off a dim, tinted light.
    Above, the ceiling was painted to look like the night sky, with careful reproductions of the constellations. And, at the far end, under the dome itself, there was the circle.
    Thirteen standing stones, each one the height of a