The formal ceremony took place three days later in the town center, beneath the monument to a child whose memory had persisted far more intact than her gravestone. The ceremony itself was silent and strained, for every Stranger in Lo had turned out to witness the union of their two worlds.
Isolde dared a glance into the crowd. There were Relia and Laramie standing together, grim and envious, molded smiles curling their mouths. Cullen Marst looked on in tight-lipped disapprobation, his fingers twitching like nervous spiders ready to jump at someone's throat. Citizen and Stranger alike lined every street, hung from every window and door, and craned their necks to have a look at the bride and her groom.
To look at the Chancellor, you'd believe that all was good and proper, and every star had its place in the heavens. She presided over the proceedings with a look of perfect contentment. But Isolde knew the little nuances of her mother's demeanor; she had never seen her so pale and preoccupied.
Chancellor Tamlyn knew well the necessity of a convincing lie. After all, diplomacy was her art and trade.
"We have all witnessed today the exchange of vows between this man and this woman. We stand as testament to the strength of their love and the intentions of their hearts. If you would agree to the strength and validity of this union, be silent in your consent. If you would contest the actions of these lovers, come forth now and testify so that all may know the reasons."
"STOP THIS!"
All heads turned at the grating, hysterical sound piping through the crowd like a squeaky wheel. Isolde's heart fell down into her feet and Garreth reached out to steady her. The crowds rippled and parted as an old woman pushed and shoved her way to the front. She was filthy and ragged, her hands cracked and leathery from years of laundering other people's garments. Her white hair swam around her face in a hysterical halo as she screeched.
"This cannot be! He's one o' them! He's an owl!"
A harsh murmur swept through the crowds as the old woman moved forward and stopped before Garreth.
"He's the leader!" she shrieked, poking her scrawny finger at his chest.
"He brought them all down here to destroy us!" She turned to the crowd, sermonizing to faces twisted with disbelief. "Saw them, I did! They flew down from Ornithon on wings jus' like in the picture books in the temple!
They had great big round eyes and claws," she hooked her crony fingers into talons, "that could tear out your hearts!"
The crowd looked on in silent anguish. From further away, someone laughed uncomfortably. A child began to cry, and then another. Chancellor Tamlyn's mouth was a bright red slash on her expressionless white face. Even she did not seem to know what to say.
Finally, she set her gaze upon the old woman, who shrank a little beneath its weight. "As everyone here, you have the Right of Objection," she intoned. "Where is your proof?"
"Proof?!" The old woman moaned. "My eyes are my proof! They saw the coming of the Strangers! My tongue is my proof, for it bears witness to the foul creatures among us! What better proof than the word of a loyal and faithful subject?"
Chancellor Tamlyn gave a curt nod to a stout young woman nearby, who promptly stepped forward and caught the crone by the arm.
"Let go of me!" she howled, jerking her arm away. Another officer joined the first, and together they removed the old woman from the plaza, dragging her along yowling and screeching like a dying catamount.
"You'll see!" she screeched, stretching back so that she could see the bride and groom, who stared at her with horrible pity.
"Death will come to you all! It won't be just the children this time! They'll come after us all! They'll rip our eyes out as we sleep and peck the flesh from our dying bodies! YOU WILL ALL SUFFER FOR THEIR LOVE!"
Garreth looked out across the townspeople and caught the faces of his own kind. They too dared to exhale now that she was gone.
Chancellor Tamlyn took a deep breath and went on. "If there are no more objections, we may continue."
There were no more objections as Garreth tied the sash around their waists. The only other outcry came as the couple had their consummating kiss, and this from the celebrating masses. The lovers slipped their arms around one another as they had in their previous nights together, and whispered sweet I Love You's in earnest.
A grand bonfire was again built in the town center, this time for Garreth's and Isolde's post nuptial celebrations. As the lovers danced around the fire, their eyes only on each other, the stout young officer with flaming auburn hair approached Chanceller Tamlyn with a red handkerchief.
"The old woman's 'proof,' Chancellor," she announced lowly, and retreated. Chancellor Tamlyn spread the handkerchief out over her lap and nodded her approval. No one saw her refold the corners to the center, careful not to touch the gory contents. If anyone saw her throw it into the fire, they said nothing.
