Elantris

CHAPTER 33

Something changed. Hrathen blinked, washing away the last remnants of his waking dream. He wasn't sure how much time had passed-it was dark now, hauntingly black save for a few lonely torches burning high above on Elantris's wall. There wasn't even any moonlight.

He fell into the stupor more and more often lately, his mind fuzzing as he knelt in the same penitent stance. Three days was a long time to spend in prayer.

He was thirsty. Hungry as well. He had expected that: he had fasted before. However, this time seemed different. His hunger seemed more urgent, as if his body were trying to warn him of something. Elantris had much do with his discomfort, he knew. There was a desperation about the town, a sense of anxiety in every vile, cracking stone.

Suddenly, light appeared in the sky. Hrathen looked up with awe. blinking tired eyes. The moon slowIy appeared from darkness. First a scythe-shaped sliver. it grew even as Hrathen watched. He hadn't realized that there would be a lunar eclipse this night-he had stopped paying attention to such things since he left Duladel. That nation's now extinct pagan religion had ascribed special importance to the heaven's movements, and the Mysteries often practiced their rituals on such nights.

Squatting in the courtyard of Elantris, Hrathen finally understood what had prodded the Jeskers to regard nature with religious wonder. There was something beautiful about the pale-faced goddess of the heavens. a mysticism to her eclipse. It was as if she really were disappearing for a time-traveling to another place, as opposed to just falling into the planet's shadow. as Svordish scientists now claimed. Hrathen could almost feel her magic.

Almost. He could understand how, perhaps, a primitive culture could worship the moon-but he could not take part in that worship. Yet he wondered-was this the awe he should feel for his God? Was his own belief flawed because he did not regard Jaddeth with the same mixture of curious fear and wonder with which the people of Jesker had regarded the moon?

He would never have such emotions: he was not capable of irrational veneration. He understood. Even if he envied men who could gush praises to a god without understanding his teachings, Hrathen eould not separate fact and religion.

Jaddeth bestowed attributes on men as He saw fit, and Hrathen had been given a logical intellect. He would never be content with simpleminded devotion.

It was not what Hrathen had been hoping for, but it was an answer, and he found comfort and strength within it. He was not a zealot: he would never be a man of extreme passion. In the end, he followed Derethi because it made sense. That would have to be enough.

Hrathen licked his drying lips. He didn't know how long it would be until he left Elantris: his exile could last days yet. He hadn't wanted to show signs of physical dependence, but he knew that he would need some nourishment. Reaching over, he retrieved his sacrificial basket. Caked with slime, the offerings were growing stale and moldy. Hrathen ate them anyway. resolve breaking as he finally made the decision to eat. He devoured it all-flaccid vegetables, moldy bread, meat, even some of the corn, the hard grains softened slightly by their extended bath in Elantris slime. At the end he downed the entire flask of wine with one prolonged gulp.

He tossed the basket aside. At least now he wouldn't have to worry about scavengers coming to steal his offerings, though he hadn't seen any more of them since the earlier attack. He was thankful to Jaddeth for the respite. He was becoming so weak and dehydrated that he might not have been able to fend off another assault.

The moon was almost completely visible now. Hrathen stared up with renewed resolve. He might lack passion, but he had an ample serving of determination. Licking his now wetted lips. Hrathen restarted his prayer. He would continue as he always had, doing his best to serve in Lord Jaddeth's empire.

There was nothing else God could expect of him.