Once Was: Book One of the Asylum Trilogy Read Online Free Page A

Cade, and I had watched one of the boats come from Sheelin bearing boxes of tiles. The priest who had born the burden of carrying them had smiled fondly at Cade before walking down the path.
    “Lie down, Child.” Kira’s wrinkled face was tanned from a life spent toiling in her garden and traversing the waters between Madani and Sheelin. Despite calluses and scars, the touch of her hands was soothing as she pressed upon my shoulders. It was a grandmother’s touch, one full of fond affection and the promise of sweet fruit breads after.
    The reed mat beneath me scratched through my clothing, and the scarlet pillow supporting my head and neck was too soft and smelled of sour herbs used to put a fussy child to sleep. How she expected me to be comfortable enough to let those visions come, I was unsure.
    Then, I saw Her. In the center of the ceiling were eyes like those of a cat, though these held a celestial glow visible even in the bright light surrounding me. I felt Her staring at me while I reclined upon the floor in the temple. The magic held in that glazed ceramic went beyond my comprehension.
    “Open.” A cloying sweetness filled my nose as Kira held a wine-steeped cloth above my mouth and squeezed. Raining drops of burgundy coated my tongue and ran down to my throat, requiring no action. They knew where they were going, just as the incense she had started burning choked my throat as it swam into my nose and open mouth. “Don’t fight it, daughter of Bas. Let the smoke in; breathe deeply and open your mind.”
    If I had thought of fighting, the possibility vanished. The green eyes above bore the priestess’ words into me, and I let the smoke wash through my body, giving myself over to that needy, loving stare.
    “What do you see, Roseen, if anything?”
    I stared through the smoke, pushing past the images my childish mind latched onto. She had to test whether my visions were powerful truths or fanciful dreams. So, for her and our Goddess, I relived the dreams and blood-filled terrors I wished to forget. Visions of bloodshed had no place in an eight year old’s mind, yet they were there without regard to what should have been.
    Before my eyes, the smoke and mosaic faded, leaving me in a haze upon the ocean’s waves. Beneath me, a small raft woven of green reeds buoyed me atop the water. We dipped down, then crested, becoming part of the ocean’s waves. I turned as if treading water, though I floated above it, and saw a brilliant star — one not larger than a cabbage rose — drifting near the shore.
    “I see a star upon the waves. There is ice around it,” I said, though I felt no cold. I simply knew there was ice.
    Kira tried to coax more from me, but I ignored her questions, wanting to get closer and trying to see what it meant. “No, Child. Do not fight it. See what She wills. Let the visions come and go as guests She has sent. You cannot force them or they will fade.” The scratch of her quill upon the parchment told me she was recording what I saw. “Tell me more, Bas willing.”
    Drifting back into the coalescing fog, I spun around, feeling thousands of faces longing to tell me their hidden stories. In one corner I saw my father carving a memorial stone and turned away, not wanting to see the name he etched. In another, I saw Carek taking off his shoe, and with it his foot. “The butcher is taking off his shoes repeatedly. One foot is coming with it, Kira,” I said, incredulous to the sight before me. It just was not possible. I turned around in the mists, waving it away with my arms, trying to see more. “He’s sitting along the shore in his winter garb; the snow dunes are as high as his shoulders.” I stood up on my rolling raft, trying to find Carek as he danced away.
    “That’s enough, Child.” A breeze tickled my senses, clearing the fog as Kira fanned it away with giant feathers from some far away land.
    I mourned the loss of palpable magic. My chest ached with grief, tears burned my