The Obsidian Temple (7 page)

“What did she mean, the Weaver has been found?” Sulis asked, still staying away from the statues.

Ava raised her head. “I don't know. The words just came to me. She is out there, somewhere.”

“She?” Sulis asked.

Ava scrunched her nose up. “Yeah. The Weaver is a she. And she's up north, but protected.”

Grandmother reached into her white cloak, drawing out a message. “Word was sent to me,” she admitted. “Kadar is protecting a girl whom the One is interested in. Raella said her mind is damaged in some way, so I did not think she fit.”

“You should send for him to bring her here,” Anchee said.

Sari cocked her head to one side, listening. “It is not time yet,” she said. “There will be a gathering of the Guardians. She will come then. There is more that needs to happen.”

“Like teaching our fellow Shuttle how to dance?” Anchee said with a laugh, gesturing to Sulis. “And giving our Loom the training she needs to provide the foundation for the weaving?”

“Wait,” Sulis said, glancing around. “Fellow Shuttle? We're both Shuttles?”

“And your grandmother,” Anchee said mildly. “We three will dance the most glorious dance.”

“Dance? We dance?” Sulis asked, confused.

“It is more like a sword dance, precise patterns that call up specific energy, than artistic dancing. You have already begun to learn the poses. But you can't dance the energy if you're standing way back there,” her grandmother said mildly. “You need to release your fear, or it will paralyze you.”

Sulis shook her head and took another step forward, but then stopped, unnerved by that sense of presence in the statues.

“Why do they feel like that?” she asked. “Why can I feel Voras there, inside that statue? Does it really contain their souls?”

Sari shook her head. “Not souls—­not exactly, as they don't have souls. You might call it the essence of their magical being. After the deities took mortal form to fight one another, they turned against the One when she intervened. With the aid of hundreds of our kin, most of whom perished in the effort, she was able to trap them and turn them to stone. Their immortal beings escaped in a blast of magic that created this melted stone and scorched the land, creating the desert. But we were able to help the One hold on to their essence, weakening their magic so that they are forced to channel through the
feli
and can no longer take human form.”

“Why isn't this in the scriptures I learned?” Sulis asked. “I learned the deities were thrown down and their autonomy torn from them by the One. Not that it was chained in the desert.”

“That is why this temple is hidden and well guarded,” Grandmother said. “Only initiates and those sworn as Guardians of the One are permitted access to the Obsidian Temple. If an initiate is deemed unworthy by the One, they will have no memory of this place.”

“Why don't the deities send their Voices to steal the essence back?” Sulis asked.

“They will.” Anchee said. “They were weakened, chastened for centuries, during which we were able to bring protections to the desert and hide this area from them. Our warriors make it impossible for their followers to survive in the desert to find this place.”

“The deities have become unstable,” Grandmother added. “The One was not expecting that. Without this essence, they have become more human but less steady of mind as the decades pass. They are shells that long to be reunited with the core of their beings.”

“I've never even heard of this prophecy,” Ava complained. “How can I ground anything if I don't know what you're talking about?”

Sari smiled at the blond girl. “I think first what you need is breakfast. Then we can begin your training. I believe there is still plenty of time to ready ourselves. The One has waited centuries for all these souls to come together at the same time, in the right conditions. She can wait until after breakfast to give you your duties.”

Anchee pushed himself to his feet. “I think we all need breakfast. Most of the acolytes should be in the dining hall, so we can quell the rumors that must be flying through the community right now.” He put a hand out to lift Ava up, then towed her down the hall, Sari following.

With relief, Sulis started to follow, but her grandmother's heavy hand on her shoulder stopped her.

“You must get rid of this fear,” she said quietly. “If you dance in fear, if you let your footsteps falter when Voras approaches, all will be lost.”

“I won't falter,” Sulis reassured her.

Her grandmother frowned. “Look at you. You will not even step close to a statue. But I am supposed to believe you are not afraid?”

Sulis glared at her grandmother. She took a deep breath and stared at the Voras statue. His arms were flung over his head, his handsome face twisted in anger. She took a step closer, felt his presence beating on hers again. Djinn thrust his head under her hand, giving her strength. She stepped up to the statue and put a hand on it, braced for an assault. Nothing happened, and she let out a shaky laugh and relaxed.

She turned to her grandmother and raised an eyebrow.

The old lady nodded once. “It is a start, but only a start. This is just a statue that feels like Voras. When you meet his Templar again, when you come face-­to-­face, it will not be so easy.”

Grandmother turned and walked after Anchee, leaving Sulis staring, irritated, after her. She glanced down at Djinn. He looked up at her, and his sides heaved out in a deep sigh.

“Exactly,” Sulis said, caressing him behind the ears. “She's exasperating. Let's get breakfast.”

 

Chapter 7

“YOU P
ROMISED THEM
WHAT?”

Kadar winced as Uncle Tarik's voice rose to a shout. They were standing in the back of the courtyard, by the stables. This was the most private spot in the family hall, where they were the least likely to be overheard. He'd waited a week until Uncle Aaron had come back from a short trading trip to the North, then asked his uncles if he could speak to them privately.

Uncle Aaron leaned against an empty stall, his expression bleak. “Quietly, Tarik,” he advised, “This isn't something we want the neighbors to hear.”

Uncle Tarik paced and ran his hands through his hair in total exasperation.

“Do you think this is all a game, Kadar?” he asked roughly. “Do you think that our ­people won't be hurt when you play savior? What you have set up is a reason for the Temple to go to war with the South. You have given them exactly what they wanted.”

“I thought you knew at least something,” Kadar said, stung. “You sent me to Ashraf and told me to ally with him. He was the one with the plans; he was the one who told me this had all been set up.”

“What exactly was Ashraf doing on his last trip to the demesne?” Uncle Aaron asked.

“He was going to see what condition Kabandha is in,” Kadar admitted. “It was a scouting mission to see how much work needed to be done before we could start sending Forsaken to their new home.”

Uncle Aaron exchanged a look with Uncle Tarik, who shook his head.

“Well, that explains what happened to Ashraf,” Uncle Aaron said. “And it explains the rumors.”

“What rumors?” Kadar asked.

“Ashraf's family was frantic, looking for him. We expected to begin exporting their silks when I went south this past year, but they requested a delay. We'd heard it was because their heir was missing, and they were worried they'd need to ransom him. Then they announced his sister would be our representative because Ashraf was in training.”

“I don't understand,” Kadar said. “Training for what? Kabandha's just an abandoned city, isn't it? I'd heard it was haunted, and maybe disease-­ridden.”

“It's a training ground for warriors of the One,” Uncle Tarik said. “Though few know it. The rumors are there to keep ­people from investigating.”

“Ashraf said his men had visited and found it empty but inhabitable,” Kadar said.

Uncle Aaron shook his head. “Doubtful. They were probably placed under a
geas
to believe they'd visited. Kabandha is far from empty. There are powerful protections around it to keep intruders away.”

“If you know this, why weren't Sulis and I told? We're the heirs of the family business,” Kadar asked.

“Not to these secrets, you aren't,” Uncle Aaron said. “And not with your sister going to pledge to the deities. Kabandha is a citadel, protecting the desert and its secrets from the deities and the power they crave. It holds a well-­trained, ruthless army devoted to the One.”

“Anyone seeking it would find it very much not abandoned,” Uncle Tarik said grimly. “Do you thing they recruited Ashraf?”

“It would explain the family's reaction,” Uncle Aaron said. “The Nasirofs have always been faithful. They would not object to instating a new heir if Ashraf were recruited by the warriors of Kabandha. But that means he won't be back to lead this so-­called rebellion. Maybe that'll put an end to the Forsaken resistance.”

“It won't,” Kadar admitted. “Severin, the viceroy's son, has gotten involved. And I think Farrah has taken over the planning. They're working together now.”

Uncle Tarik swore and kicked the stone wall.

“Calm down,” Uncle Aaron ordered.

“This is my family we're talking about,” Uncle Tarik snapped.

Kadar winced at the pain in his voice.

“Brother, it has begun,” Uncle Aaron said softly, glancing at Kadar, then focusing on Uncle Tarik. Uncle Tarik straightened and stood still, looking at the ground. “I've had word from Mother. She says this is the time of the prophecy.”

“Not in our lifetimes,” Uncle Tarik protested. “How many hundreds of lifetimes have passed? Not now, not in mine.”

“Sanuri plays a part though Mother was cryptic about what. None of us truly knows what part we play, but, being Hasifels, you know we will be involved.”

“Then maybe it's best if Raella takes the boys and leaves,” Uncle Tarik said hollowly. “I won't be able to protect myself, let alone them. Not that anywhere will be safe if war comes to Illian, but they have a better chance of surviving in the desert.”

He spun on his heel, and Kadar watched in bewilderment as he strode back to the house. Kadar looked over at Uncle Aaron, who was staring down at the ground.

“What's begun?” he asked. “I don't understand.”

“An old prophecy,” Uncle Aaron told him. “Bringing war, but possibly peace and resolution depending on how the pawns are played.”

“How do you know this?” Kadar asked. “How did Grandmother get a message to you?”

“I've been preparing for this my entire life,” Uncle Aaron admitted. “I trained at Kabandha in my youth. I was assigned to your father Gadiel to learn the trade and be the eyes and ears in the North for Kabandha. I never expected to become head of the caravan, any more than Tarik expected to put roots in Illian.”

He smiled gently at Kadar's puzzlement. “As for how I get messages, I can hear others over a distance. There is a network of us, placed around the territory, within communicating range. I often travel out of that range, but when I travel back in, I can speak with them to get messages from the elders and to pass on information. You have that ability as well.”

Kadar shook his head. “Just with Sulis, and the twin bond,” he protested. “And that went away after she healed up from being injured.”

“No,” Uncle Aaron said. “Children who have the farspeaking ability are blocked, so they don't hear what they should not. When they become teens, they are usually sent to Kabandha to be trained.” He raised an eyebrow. “Mother decided you should stay blocked because Sulis was pledging the Temple. A deity might have used your twin bond to eavesdrop on us if we were farspeaking.”

Kadar frowned at the thought that Sulis's destiny somehow made his less. “Couldn't you have blocked the twin bond? It seems wrong that I didn't get trained. Especially with a war coming.”

Uncle Aaron spread his hands. “We didn't know a war was coming when you were little,” he said. ­“People have spent their entire lives training for the prophecy and died with it unfulfilled.”

“Then why wasn't I unblocked when I was back in the desert?” Kadar demanded. “We knew a war was coming then.”

“You weren't going to stay in the desert. You'd need to, for training.”

“So why tell me now?” Kadar said.

“I don't agree with your Grandmother that it should be hidden,” Uncle Aaron said. “I've seen enough in my travels to believe war is closer than she thinks. We need you unblocked and trained. The easiest way would be to return to your Grandmother since she placed the block.”

“I'm not abandoning Farrah again,” Kadar said, shaking his head. “Couldn't you do it?”

Uncle Aaron shook his head. “Farspeaking has to be granted by the One, and I am not powerful enough to communicate with him. It won't hurt you to stay blocked. But you do need to tell Farrah that the desert, and especially the abandoned city, are off-­limits to her ­people. We will help them fight here, on their ground. But they are not to enter the desert lands. Tell her you've heard from Ashraf that the rumors of poison and disease in Kabandha were true, and there are no other places for them.”

Kadar swallowed hard. He would help in other ways, he decided. He'd learned much about traveling and surviving harsh conditions during his apprenticeship with the caravan. Perhaps the Forsaken could find refuge in the mountains up north.

Uncle Aaron slapped him on the shoulder. “I must go south tomorrow. We will talk more when I return.” He left Kadar in the courtyard and walked back to the house.

Kadar bent down to refasten his sandal, thinking furiously. He realized that Uncle Aaron had neatly avoided telling him exactly what the prophecy said. A weight leapt onto his back, and he glanced resignedly over his shoulder to find Amber's blue gaze and twitching tail.

“I need to stand up,” he said mildly. As he slowly straightened, she moved to his shoulder, a furry weight against his ear.

“What a mess,” he muttered, and the cat yowled, almost like she was agreeing. “I wish I was able to use this
farspeak
. Then maybe I could reach Sulis and find out if she knows what's going on.”

The Flamepoint started purring. “You like that, huh,” he said, reaching up to stroke her head. “Maybe I should just go back to the desert, get the block taken off. Then I could learn how to use it.” The purr stopped. “No? Who else could do it?”

Amber jumped from his shoulder to the high wall of the courtyard, and Kadar saw the Temple rising on the hill past her slim form.

“Alannah,” he breathed. “The Counselors of the One. They'd have the power. I wonder if they'd be willing?”

He stared at the cat, and the cat stared back unblinking, purring loudly now. She stood, dipped both front legs forward in a long, stretching bow, and disappeared over the wall.

“I think it's time to go thank the Counselor of the One for saving Sulis's life,” Kadar muttered as he walked back to the house.

I
T WAS MIDWEEK,
so the crowds weren't quite as thick as usual as Kadar walked through the merchant district, past the Hasifel sales hall to the big Temple complex at the center of the city.

The last time he'd been to the Temple of the One, it had been well lighted by the pledges for their makeshift ceremony. Kadar was surprised by its dimness today. It took a moment for his eyes to adjust so that he could see more than the central pillar of candles, but when they did, he could see long tails snaking down from the ledges above him. He avoided those, not wanting to attract attention from the large
feli
, who usually took a dislike to him. There were two women in golden robes talking by the altar, and Kadar approached them cautiously, hoping that Alannah was one of them. He wasn't certain he'd recognize the newest Counselor of the One. His only impression of her had come from the chaotic scene at the initiation ritual, and he'd been practically blinded by Sulis's agony through their twin bond at the time.

One of the Counselors turned and noticed him, and he recognized her as Elida, who had urged them to flee to the desert after Sulis had been stabbed.

She said something to the tall woman beside her, who turned as well. He remembered her blue eyes and blond hair. She was tall, taller than Farrah, with a thin, pale face and high cheekbones. She smiled as Kadar approached.

“It's Kadar, isn't it?” she asked. “I've only seen you a ­couple of times; once at the barn fire, though you were unconscious at the time, and once when Sulis was hurt. But I recognize your sister in you. How is Sulis?”

Kadar glanced around, worried about listeners.

“No one can eavesdrop on us here,” Alannah assured him.

“When I left the desert, she was irritated she couldn't gallop back here and cause more trouble,” Kadar said.

Alannah grinned. “I can imagine,” she said dryly. “She wasn't one to hold still. How is the rest of your family? Is your little daughter doing well?”

Kadar was startled. “How do you know I have a daughter?” he blurted.

Elida answered. “We've been watching to make certain that your family came to no harm after the incident last spring. We heard about the happy event.”

“Why don't we talk about this somewhere more comfortable,” Alannah said. “We could take tea at our private house, if Elida wouldn't mind tending the altar.”

Elida smiled fondly at the girl. “I had to tend this shrine many years alone, my dear. It is nice to have someone to share the duties with.” She lowered her voice. “You understand what to do?”

Alannah nodded as Kadar looked at her, mystified. She took his arm. “This way, Kadar. Our house is in the first circle, beside Ivanha's Children's Home.”

He followed her through the doors and out of the Temple, back to the main street. Two guards in gold-­tooled leather followed behind. Alannah did not seem to notice, so Kadar assumed they were expected and were guarding her. Their party turned down the first-­circle road, and Alannah nodded to the guard at the crossroads. A short walk down, and they turned toward a great stone house with beautiful gardens. Running beside the house was an iron fence, and Kadar could see children playing in the next yard.

“The Children's Home,” Alannah commented as they went up the walk. “Maidens of Ivanha and soldiers of Voras give birth there, and the home tends their children, as well as any orphans the Temple takes in.”

As they turned down the walk of the large stone house, a sinuous white shadow rose from under a tree and paced toward them. This
feli
was built more heavily than the desert
feli
and Djinn, more like the Northern cougars they'd fended off from the caravan as they traveled the mountains. But this
feli
was pure white, not the tan of wild cats.

“Yaslin,” Alannah said, as the feline butted its head against her hip.

Kadar was about to comment on the unusual coloring when a small shape launched itself from a nearby tree onto his shoulder, yowling. He flinched as claws dug into his robe.

Alannah gazed at the Frubian Flamepoint in surprise.

“This is Amber,” Kadar told her as the cat purred and rubbed against his ear. “She seems to have attached herself to me. I don't know how she found me here.”