"Then it's settled," Staden said from the chair where he had watched the debate for more than a candlemark, his burly arms crossed across his chest. "Until then, you and your companions are welcome in my home."
Tris inclined his head in acknowledgment. "We are in your debt."
Staden waved his hands in dissent. "Now none of that, or you'll be thanking me and I'll have to turn around and thank you again, and we'll be here all night. Now that the decision's made, who'll have a glass of port with me?"
TRIS PULLED HIS cloak tighter around himself as the king's carriage carried him to the citadel of the Sisterhood. Beside him, Carina looked equally cold. "I'm still wondering-what kind of training requires a healer?" Carina asked, pulling her lap robe closer and rubbing her hands together.
Tris managed a wan smile. "I've been asking myself the same thing. And I can't come up with any good answers."
Carina frowned. "Tris-how sure are you that the Sisterhood is on our side?"
Tris shrugged. "Grandmother always said the Sisterhood was on its own side," he replied. "I got as much out of Royster last night as I could-he's been the Keeper of their Library at Westmarch for almost fifty years. What he said-and he was damn cagey until I pushed him-was that since grandmother's death, there's been a split in the Sisterhood that goes back to the war with the Obsidian King.
"According to Royster, there were so many of the great mages killed in that war that the ones who lived through it were either badly wounded or very frightened. The Sisterhood took very heavy losses. Grandmother was nearly killed." He sighed. "Even after grandmother recovered and became the head of the Sisterhood, Royster says that the Sisterhood split into two groups: one that thought the Mage War proved that the Sisterhood shouldn't intervene, and one that thought careful intervention was the only way to keep the peace." "What about your grandmother?" Tris looked out the carriage window at the cold winter dawn. "Grandmother always said that power of any kind-physical, magical, or political-was a gift from the Goddess to be used for the good of all."
"That's a hard balance to strike," Carina said, burrowed so far into her cloak and lap robe that only her face showed.
"What I could pry out of Royster makes me think that there have been some heated arguments about what to do with me," Tris said. "For now, apparently, the mages who sided with grandmother are winning, and so the Sisterhood has agreed to train me. But I'm not sure that's the same as giving us their full support. I don't think we can count on them to come to the rescue if anything goes wrong."
