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Back Priestess of the White
Chapters (62)
  1. Cover
  2. TRUDI CANAVAN
  3. Dedication
  4. Map
  5. PROLOGUE
  6. PART ONE
  7. 1
  8. 2
  9. 3
  10. 4
  11. 5
  12. 6
  13. 7
  14. 8
  15. 9
  16. 10
  17. 11
  18. 12
  19. 13
  20. 14
  21. 15
  22. 16
  23. 17
  24. PART TWO
  25. 18
  26. 19
  27. 20
  28. 21
  29. 22
  30. 23
  31. 24
  32. 25
  33. 26
  34. 27
  35. 28
  36. 29
  37. 30
  38. 31
  39. 32
  40. PART THREE
  41. 33
  42. 34
  43. 35
  44. 36
  45. 37
  46. 38
  47. 39
  48. 40
  49. 41
  50. 42
  51. 43
  52. 44
  53. 45
  54. 46
  55. 47
  56. 48
  57. EPILOGUE
  58. GLOSSARY
  59. ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
  60. About the Author
  61. Other Books by Trudi Canavan
  62. About the Publisher

“What did…?”

“You go,” the man said, with a note of warning in his voice.

Roffin took a few steps backward. The stranger was a sorcerer. No threats were going to budge him. Cemmo looked at Roffin questioningly. As Roffin glanced around the room, he realized that all the occupants were watching him. Had they seen what the man had done? Probably not. They just saw Roffin backing down to a highborn foreigner. Scowling, he turned on his heel and strode to the door.

“Take my money elsewhere,” he muttered as he left, slamming the door behind him. Once outside, however, he stopped, unsure what to do now. Cemmo hadn’t followed. Long habit made him note the sound of the surf pounding at the base of the cliff below and the whistle of the wind between the buildings. It would be a rough night on the water.

His hand throbbed. He looked down and decided he ought to get someone to see to it.

The priest. Yes, he’ll have a cure for it. Roffin glanced back at the drink shop and smiled. And I’m sure Priest Waiken will want to know there’s a foreign spy in town.

12

Rippling, surging water stretched in all directions. The reflected light of the rising sun formed ribbons of orange on its surface. Occasionally a seabird would soar past, seemingly oblivious to the ship or its occupants.

Looking to the west, Danjin could see a blue smudge of mountains above a thin, dark strip of land. The Sunset Range ran up the west coast of Hania to Mirror Strait, where it plunged into the water and formed a line of small islets leading to the larger Somreyan Islands. According to ancient histories some of those mountains had once spouted fire and ash, but now they were cold and silent.

“Danjin.”

He turned in surprise. Auraya rarely rose before dawn. Her long hair was plaited into a simple tail rather than the usual elaborate style. She was frowning.

“Good morning, Auraya of the White,” he said, making the gesture of the circle. “It is a beautiful morning, isn’t it?”

She glanced at the sunrise but her frown did not fade.

“Yes. It is.” She looked at him. “I will be leaving the ship in the next hour. Would you look after Mischief and ensure Leiard reaches his accommodation safely?”

Looking along the deck, Danjin noted that four crewmen were untying a small boat from where it had been securely tied up on deck for most of the trip.

“Of course,” he replied. She was biting her lip. He reached out but did not quite touch her arm. “Can you tell me what calls you away?”