Read Online The Paladin's Odyssey (The Windows of Heaven) by K.G. Powderly Jr. - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: K.G. Powderly Jr.
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pupil and walked to her with a strange spiraling quickfire light in her hand.
The Mistress of Memory’s violet eyes pierced Pyra’s soul. “It is only a dream, child. Go back to bed and sleep peacefully.”
When Pyra woke just before dawn, she only recalled bits and pieces of disturbing sounds and images mixed with pleasant memories of her mother . She didn’t know why, but her eyes and pillow were wet from crying .
THE PALADIN’S ODYSSEY | 367
One assumption that drives the frenzy to map the human genome is that all human behavior is of genetic origin. Behaviors that in previous times were attributed to environment or moral choice are now being attributed to genetics. High profile scientists claim to have discovered the genetic basis for a host of behaviors and characteristics, including alcoholism, homosexuality, promiscuity, I.Q., and violence. Serious scientific doubts about these claims are commonly given little attention, leaving the public with the impression that science is on the verge of solving some of society’s greatest concerns. The wide acceptance of genetic explanations for these probing social problems, whether grounded in solid science or not, has created an ideological climate that has grave implications for human dignity.
—Jim Leffel
Engineering Life: Human Rights in a Postmodern Age
THE PALADIN’S ODYSSEY | 367
4
Chosen
P
yra’s head still spun, and her body ached all the way through, when she awoke the morning after her graduating coven’s initiation festival. All she recalled of the previous day was a disjointed tumble of swaying faces and rhythmic bodies intertwined , laughing madness intoxicated by the divine ambrosia. She had not expected to hurt this much afterward , or the gnawing void in the pit of her stomach.
She tumbled out of her new couch in the novice dormitory. Though just across the sundial courtyard from where she had lived all her life with her mother until yesterday, it seemed a world away. It surprised her when she rolled onto the floor instead of rising to her feet. Her head throbbed.
“A bit like being joyfully trampled to death by an invading army, isn’t it?” said the laughing voice of Khallio’Phe much too loudly.
Pyra felt like slapping her. “Shut up, ‘Phe. I hope the Old-world Titans feel just half of this under the feet of At’Lahazh!”
“Now, now, darling, don’t be blasphemous on the commencement of your sacred calling. You should have seen me the day after my initiation. Talk about war’s wreckage!”
Pyra pulled herself back up onto the edge of her couch and finally got her feet under her. A stumble toward the mirror confirmed her worst fears. “I look like a unicorn pie!”
“After somebody stepped in it —t hat’s why they give you three days off the Court rotation before start ing your regular hours.”
“Tactless bynt! Why’d I ever want you as dorm under-mistress?”
Khallio’Phe laughed. “Who else would put up with you ? Besides, anything must be an improvement after living under Harachne’s thumb.”
Pyra covered her ears and held her head. “Even your shrill voice!”
“I could sing for you.”
Pyra winced. “ N ot this morning . ”
“What morning? It’s an hour past noon, you slug.”
Pyra splashed her face from a bowl of water on the mirror stand and attacked her rumpled hair with a brush.
“So what do you plan to do with your free time once you recover from last night?”
Pyra swiveled on the mirror stool to face ‘Phe. “I need to spend some of it with my mother.”
“How is she?”
“‘Bout as well as can be expected. She’s showing now—after just two months. Is that normal?”
‘Phe softened her voice at this to near tolerable levels. “The process accelerates growth.”
“Has your mother ever told you how it works?”
Khallio’Phe shook her luxuriant black curls. “Never. Mnemosynae can be as tight-lipped as your Pandura when she wants to be.”
“Or when
The Mistress of Memory’s violet eyes pierced Pyra’s soul. “It is only a dream, child. Go back to bed and sleep peacefully.”
When Pyra woke just before dawn, she only recalled bits and pieces of disturbing sounds and images mixed with pleasant memories of her mother . She didn’t know why, but her eyes and pillow were wet from crying .
THE PALADIN’S ODYSSEY | 367
One assumption that drives the frenzy to map the human genome is that all human behavior is of genetic origin. Behaviors that in previous times were attributed to environment or moral choice are now being attributed to genetics. High profile scientists claim to have discovered the genetic basis for a host of behaviors and characteristics, including alcoholism, homosexuality, promiscuity, I.Q., and violence. Serious scientific doubts about these claims are commonly given little attention, leaving the public with the impression that science is on the verge of solving some of society’s greatest concerns. The wide acceptance of genetic explanations for these probing social problems, whether grounded in solid science or not, has created an ideological climate that has grave implications for human dignity.
—Jim Leffel
Engineering Life: Human Rights in a Postmodern Age
THE PALADIN’S ODYSSEY | 367
4
Chosen
P
yra’s head still spun, and her body ached all the way through, when she awoke the morning after her graduating coven’s initiation festival. All she recalled of the previous day was a disjointed tumble of swaying faces and rhythmic bodies intertwined , laughing madness intoxicated by the divine ambrosia. She had not expected to hurt this much afterward , or the gnawing void in the pit of her stomach.
She tumbled out of her new couch in the novice dormitory. Though just across the sundial courtyard from where she had lived all her life with her mother until yesterday, it seemed a world away. It surprised her when she rolled onto the floor instead of rising to her feet. Her head throbbed.
“A bit like being joyfully trampled to death by an invading army, isn’t it?” said the laughing voice of Khallio’Phe much too loudly.
Pyra felt like slapping her. “Shut up, ‘Phe. I hope the Old-world Titans feel just half of this under the feet of At’Lahazh!”
“Now, now, darling, don’t be blasphemous on the commencement of your sacred calling. You should have seen me the day after my initiation. Talk about war’s wreckage!”
Pyra pulled herself back up onto the edge of her couch and finally got her feet under her. A stumble toward the mirror confirmed her worst fears. “I look like a unicorn pie!”
“After somebody stepped in it —t hat’s why they give you three days off the Court rotation before start ing your regular hours.”
“Tactless bynt! Why’d I ever want you as dorm under-mistress?”
Khallio’Phe laughed. “Who else would put up with you ? Besides, anything must be an improvement after living under Harachne’s thumb.”
Pyra covered her ears and held her head. “Even your shrill voice!”
“I could sing for you.”
Pyra winced. “ N ot this morning . ”
“What morning? It’s an hour past noon, you slug.”
Pyra splashed her face from a bowl of water on the mirror stand and attacked her rumpled hair with a brush.
“So what do you plan to do with your free time once you recover from last night?”
Pyra swiveled on the mirror stool to face ‘Phe. “I need to spend some of it with my mother.”
“How is she?”
“‘Bout as well as can be expected. She’s showing now—after just two months. Is that normal?”
‘Phe softened her voice at this to near tolerable levels. “The process accelerates growth.”
“Has your mother ever told you how it works?”
Khallio’Phe shook her luxuriant black curls. “Never. Mnemosynae can be as tight-lipped as your Pandura when she wants to be.”
“Or when
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