Chapter 11: The Midsummer Rite

On Midsummer night, the High Hall held every god in the Three Realms.

The wardens of the Deep had come up through the sea gate in robes of green water.

The lords of the Mortal World's high places had come up the cloud stair.

Every pillar had a lamp lit at its foot.

Wynne stood next to me at the back of the dais with her braid tied tight.

She held a small gold cradle of wire in both arms.

"Are you sure?" she whispered.

"Stay where you are."

My father sat on the high seat, in his dark circlet, with his hands folded over his stomach.

He had not looked at me once since the gate.

At the end of the feast, he stood.

"This Midsummer, the House of the Sun has a gift for the realms," he said. "Our guest has asked to sing."

Perrin walked out into the middle of the floor in a new coat of white and gold.

Those were my mother's colours.

He bowed to the king, and to the wardens, and last of all, to me.

"Thank you for letting me," he said softly.

I said nothing.

He began.

It was the same lullaby, but he sang it differently now, wider and more slowly, filling the roof of the hall.

My sisters sobbed in their row.

The wardens of the Deep wept green tears, and an old lord of the mountains put his face in his hands.

Even Maelis sat very straight at the foot of the dais, with the covered Mirror beside her.

I saw her lip tremble.

Then she shook her head, once, and looked at her hands.

I stood.

"Stop," I said.

The hall turned to me.

Perrin went on singing for a line, because he could not tell if I was serious.

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