The Sword of the Lady (79 page)

The light soared and spun, broadening into a wall that stretched into the clouds and moved eastward, fading as it went. Instant by instant it swelled, and then was gone—gone from the body′s eyes, at least.

Juniper′s head was tipped back, her mouth fallen open, her eyes black with the dilated pupils. Before BD could react pain hit, a pain she had only felt once before, on the day of the Change. And a voice echoed, like the wind in crags, like the growth of flowers, roaring like a lion and as silent as the fall of windless snow:

Fast and sharp, the pain was gone. Juniper brought trembling hands down to her chest level and looked at them, swaying and beginning to buckle at the knees. BD and Judy and the other High Priestesses moved forward. Nigel was faster; his fox mask pushed up on his head, he snatched her into his arms, looking at the tears flowing down her cheeks. The staff cracked across his cheekbone, unnoticed.

″Did . . . you see that?″ she whispered. ″Did anyone else see
that
, or am I mad?″

″I saw. And I′m a confirmed skeptic, remember? Or I was. You′re not in the least mad. It′s far stranger than that.″

She raised her hands to him, quivering as they touched his face. ″They′re just my own worn hands. That′s all they are!″

″That′s what they were, my dear,″ he said with tender denial. ″But that′s not
all
they are. Not anymore.″