To the seers, everyone in the Village of Night were equals because all, no matter talent or age or influence, were seekers of truth. She bowed her head for the customary show of respect, then forced herself to look directly into his dark eyes as she would have never dared do with her High Lord uncle. One of them left her too cold for any fire to warm. Considering what tomorrow was, she could only think of two possible reasons for her to be standing here. A fire crackled despite the early summer warmth. A scroll of a star chart was unfurled on the wooden table nearest the hearth. She took a halting step from the dwindling light of the day into the sparse space. They knew their fortunes were already written.Īnd here no one forced her against the wall of her room with a hand over her mouth, daring her to scream. Here no one schemed over money and power. In this part of Eden, they were focused on the stars. Everyone in her uncle’s part of the kingdom in the district to the north focused on gold and influence. In the small, square cabin no bigger than any others scattered around the base of the hill.Įverything about this place had turned out to be different from Betrice’s home in Grace City where the buildings were made of stone and her uncle’s windmills made water run and lights glow for all who resided in town.

Yet, the Seer charged with supervising the training of every potential oracle who stepped through the boundaries of the village lived exactly here. It was not the kind of place anyone of importance lived in-or so she was taught. She hadn’t been referred to as Lady Betrice since her first steps into the Village of Night.Īlmost two years ago she was escorted through the winding paths that snaked throughout the village and the enormous hillside to this very building, which had looked to her like little more than a wooden shack. Come in, please.īetrice hesitated outside the door to the head seer’s dwelling.

Dividing eden book