The Obsidian Temple (8 page)

Alannah looked on in amusement as he tried to detach the cat's claws from his shoulder. A servant opened the front door for them, and Alannah ushered him into the parlor.

“Tea ser­vice for two, with some cakes,” she told the servant, who bowed and disappeared. By that point Kadar had wrestled Amber off his shoulder and onto his lap. Alannah reached out and stroked the cat, who arched her back and purred loudly. Yaslin settled in a corner and sighed, as though disgusted with her smaller cousin's antics.

“She seems attached to you,” Alannah commented as the servant returned with the tea. She handed Kadar a cup and a small pitcher of milk for the tea. “That will be all. Please leave us undisturbed for the next candlemark,” she told the servant.

“I wouldn't say she likes me,” he growled, trying to lift both the milk and the tea high enough that Amber couldn't stick her head in. Amber stretched up his chest and attempted to hook her claws around the milk pitcher. “I'd say she loves to torment me.”

Alannah chortled and rescued Kadar by unhooking Amber's claws from his robes and pulling the Flamepoint onto her lap. “Enough, little one. I'll give you a saucer when we are done.”

Amber settled on her lap, purring and kneading her golden robes.

Kadar cleared his throat, uncomfortable with being alone with the acolyte of the One. He wasn't certain how to ask what he needed done.

“I wanted to thank you for saving my twin,” he said. “I know she would have died without you, and still almost did die even after. She spoke about you and the rest of her class often. She appreciated the note you sent with the last caravan.”

“I think about her often,” Alannah said. “I would never have had the courage to offer myself to the One without her. I would have been stuck next door at the Children's Home, tending babies and not realizing what corruption existed in the deities. She has started something that will cascade into changes we have not seen since the Great War.”

Kadar narrowed his eyes. He lowered his voice. “Have you heard of a prophecy? One that comes from the desert?” he asked.

Alannah nodded. “It was a Vrishni who originally made the prophecy after having a vision in the desert. ‘The Loom will create the foundation upon which the Weaver will stand to braid the future, and what is separate will be whole. The shuttles will dance the Weaver's will, balancing the tapestry of life. The Guardians are their sentinels.' This was made centuries ago. I only recently heard about it, and some variations of it, from Elida. It's kept quiet from the deities and their Voices.”

Kadar took a sip of the tea, turning the prophecy over in his mind. “My uncles wouldn't tell me what the prophecy said.” He told Alannah. “I wonder if it's because they think I play a part.”

Alannah nodded. “We all do, I believe,” she said matter-­of-­factly. “I believe those of us who were changed by your sister will play a role. I just don't know what.”

“Is she the Weaver?” Kadar asked, mulling over what role would fit him best.

Alannah smiled. “I can't imagine her weaving things together. She seems much better at unraveling than weaving.”

“Can't you ask the One which part we play?”

She shook her head, pursing her lips. “I thought when I was taken, it would be that easy. Just talk with the One, ask questions. Mostly what we get are feelings; really, hints of a greater mind pushing us toward feeling one way or another. I've only heard the One's voice once, through Yaslin, when I was taken. And it made me realize just how not-­us the One is. We try to pretend the One is female or male—­but we weren't created in the image of the One. She is truly Other.”

Kadar thought of the voice that had echoed in his brain through Amber, that feeling of something so vast and old and huge. That was what had terrified Aunt Raella so much, that feeling of otherness. He nodded.

“I think that's why she communicates through the
feli
. Their minds are other as well, but much simpler and so more accepting of something so strange. She can, in some sense, translate through their minds to make her communication bearable, understandable. But that communication is so difficult to distill that it is only in the direst need that it is worth the effort.”

“I've heard that voice,” Kadar confirmed. “Through that little beast.”

He pointed at Amber, who stared back at him with her almond-­shaped blue eyes.

Alannah smiled ruefully. “I thought I'd seen a hint that you were One-­touched,” she admitted. “It leaves a mark on the mind.”

“That's part of why I wanted to come to you. I guess I have some sort of communication talent, but it was blocked when I was young and can only be removed by someone with the proper training. I could return to the desert to have it removed, but . . .” Kadar said.

“You don't want to leave your beloved and baby again,” Alannah sympathized. “Well, sit in front of me so I can see what we've got. We block little ones with the gift as well, so it doesn't drive them crazy, but they're always picked by a
feli
, and it gets removed by the deities when they are taken. You'd better have this little one in contact,” she said, gathering Amber up. “Yaslin, here please.”

The white
feli
paced over and rested her head on Alannah's knee as Kadar sat cross-­legged in front of Alannah's chair. She plunked Amber on his lap and put her cool hands on either side of his head, by the temples. As he watched, her eyes closed and her face grew serene.

“Yes, quite a bit of talent here,” she said in a flat voice.

His vision wavered suddenly, and he closed his eyes. He could feel her rummaging around in his head and resisted the urge to shove her away. His eyes twitched as the pressure built behind them.

Then the pressure dissolved, and his mind felt light. Too light, wide open. He heard voices and automatically tuned into one. He felt a startled awareness turn toward him.

Alannah?
the female voice asked.
Is there an emergency? Do I need to come?

Alannah spoke through him somehow.
No Tori,
she reassured the woman.
I've awakened a strong sleeper. Hold fast. The time is not now.

Kadar jerked away from Alannah's hands, dumping Amber off his lap. “Who was that?” he demanded. “How did you talk to her through me?”

Alannah lowered her hands. “You are very strong, Kadar. Tori is way up north. Counselors communicate with other Counselors far away through men and women like you. Usually, we have to relay from one talent who is nearby, who sends to one farther away to send across that distance.”

Something clicked in Kadar's brain. “The Vrishni,” he exclaimed. “They aren't just wanderers are they? They work for you. You can communicate through them.”

“They work for the One,” Alannah corrected. “Tell that only to Southerners you trust to keep it to themselves. Let me touch you again, so I can show you how to block all those voices. It'll take practice to be able to pinpoint one person to communicate with. I'll show you how to choose a single person rather than feeling like you are shouting in a crowd.”

By the time Kadar left, his head was throbbing, but he'd still remembered to leave the tithe. Amber had disappeared into the gardens, so he assumed she would make her way home without him.

On a whim, he decided to take a wider circle around and stop by to see Farrah first. He had to tell her the Southerners would help her ­people fight here but wouldn't offer them shelter in the desert. It wouldn't become any easier to tell her if he delayed it.

She was finishing up folding laundry, and he waited as she gave her brothers the orders to deliver. Once her brothers had left the yard, she came to him.

“What is it?” she asked softly. “It's something bad, isn't it?”

“I've spoken to my uncles. They agree with Ashraf that Kabandha will not work for the Forsaken. Uncle Aaron believes the same as you—­that Forsaken need to retake their own homes. I've recruited other Southerners to help you here. We'll use them to scout out locations up north.”

“You told your uncles?” Farrah said, frowning. “How do we know they can be trusted?”

Kadar was startled. “They support you in this, Farrah,” he said. “Uncle Aaron has experience with Northern routes and knows where to start searching. They would never betray us to the viceroy or the Temple.”

Farrah grimaced and looked away, shaking her head. “I told Severin this would probably happen, that being accepted in the South was Ashraf's delusion,” she said. “Why let the viceroy and towns­people herd us to the desert to die? We will make our stand here, where we belong.”

“Southerners will stand alongside you,” Kadar said. “We will help lift you to your rightful place in free society.”

She smiled wanly at him. The first of her brothers came back from deliveries, and he changed the subject, telling her he'd visited the house where the Counselors of the One lived to give tithes. She was curious about that, and about Ivanha's Children's Home next door—­she wanted to know every detail of how he'd visited the road and where the kids were located.

“I guess I'd never get through the guards to visit,” Farrah said.

“There was just one at the crossroads,” Kadar said. “I didn't see much more than that down the street though Counselor Alannah was heavily guarded.”

“Was she pretty?” Farrah teased.

“A bit scary, really,” Kadar said, “At least she scared me out of more tithe than I'd planned. And not nearly as beautiful as you.” He kissed her.

She laughed and pushed him away. “Give Datura a kiss for me,” she told him. “I'll stop by to see her this evening.”

He walked back home humming, glad that he'd been able to cheer her up in spite of the bad news he brought.

 

Chapter 8

S
ULIS'S GRANDMOTHER WAS
no less aggravating in the days that followed. They didn't leave the following morning like they had planned. They'd gained many additions to their small caravan thanks to Ava's inspiring words. Suddenly, the devotees at the black temple felt the call to retrain, and everyone wanted to accompany the Loom and the three Shuttles.

Sulis was stuck meditating while other ­people were preparing to travel. Her grandmother made her meditate first at the base of the statue for the One, then at the feet of each of the stone deities, learning the feel of each deity's essence. She saved Voras for last, forcing Sulis to sit at his feet, then to lean against his figure to get used to feeling his power while in a safe place.

When they finally set out two days later, Sulis was sagging and puffy-­eyed, waking every few hours from nightmares. Ava gave her a sympathetic smile and tried to ride beside her but was quickly separated by devotees who were attempting to cram every minutia of desert lore into the poor girl's head.

Sulis would have spared her some sympathy, but Grandmother's and Master Anchee's lessons continued on humpback, and her own head was starting to feel full. Every moment off the humpback, at the oasis in evening and morning, was spent learning the poses and movement that could create the dances of power. Before she could raise energy outside of herself, she first had to learn to activate the spiraling energy within her own body.

Sulis was beginning to wonder if they had the right woman, as she certainly didn't see energy snaking up her spine through her energy points when she did poses. She didn't feel energetic at all, just overwhelmed and tired.

“Ow,” she complained, as her grandmother toppled her ungrounded Warrior pose into the dirt, and Sulis flopped onto her hip.

“Pay more attention!” Grandmother ordered. “You won't see the energy until you focus.”

“I just need more time,” Sulis growled. “You don't give me time to feel the poses on my own, to get my own grounding. Maybe if you'd back off, I could actually feel something. I thought we were going to Kabandha to train. Let me practice on my own until then.”

Her grandmother glared at her. “There will be more distractions for you in Kabandha,” she said. “If you can't learn to focus now, how will you dedicate yourself when you are tempted by other callings?”

“Has there ever been another calling for me?” Sulis asked, exasperated. “When have you known me to quit the path I'm following?”

Her grandmother threw up her hands. “Have it your way. But be ready to work under the Prophet's discipline when we reach Kabandha. He will have no patience for your whining and complaining.”

Sulis glared after her grandmother, wondering why she constantly harried her so. “I've always stuck to my path,” she muttered to Djinn, who yowled and stretched out at her feet for a belly rub.

The Sands ended a day's ride south of the Obsidian Temple, and semiarid savannah took over. Mindful of her grandmother's looks, Sulis spent every spare moment mastering the poses and keeping her balance. Sometimes she felt like her own energy was finally rising, but the moment she grasped at it, it died.

But it was still a positive development, and she was feeling confident and a little cocky as their mages broke the great illusion around Kabandha. It was not a large city—­more of a large barracks and training grounds. It was home only to the Chosen and the warriors and scholars dedicated to the One. They rode down the small dirt road past some long dormitories and into the courtyard of a large main stone hall with tall, regal columns.

A crowd gathered in the courtyard. To the left was a formation of soldiers, mixed male and female, all dressed in tan cloaks over trousers. Long, curved swords hung from the sashes of most of the warriors, and they gazed straight ahead, expressions neutral. The group that stepped forward to greet them had two main figures, a man and a woman, colorful in silk robes and flanked by a dozen or so ­people in the white cloaks that had marked acolytes at the Obsidian Temple.

As Sulis and her party dismounted, the woman stepped forward to greet Master Anchee and Grandmother.

“I am Yanil,” the woman said with a smile. “Tanon and I will show you to your rooms.” She gestured to the man beside her. “We have opened a guesthouse for the Chosen ones. The Prophet will meet with you tomorrow, and you will decide a course of training together. You must want to freshen up after your journey. Chosen, follow me. Warriors of the One, follow Tanon, and he will assign you a dormitory and work group.”

Sulis and Ava followed Grandmother and Master Anchee, glancing around as they entered the citadel and walked through the main hall. The vaulted ceiling was painted with a mural of the One smiting the deities. There was a balcony around the room that led to the second floor, and Sulis could see the doorways to more rooms. A spiral staircase to the right led up to a walkway.

“The main temple is to your right,” Yanil told them, as they walked through the building. “It is used for meditation and ceremonies. There are two smaller meditation centers beside it. On the second floor, there is a library and archival offices, along with reading rooms for study. We use this main hall for larger meetings.” There were no chairs, but sitting cushions were stacked along a main wall.

They walked out a back door and into a massive, sandy courtyard. Sulis admired some shirtless men fighting hand-­to-­hand in the front of the open space as trainers circled them, barking commands. Men and women with curved swords battled each other in the back of the space.

“This is used for training and exercise. The long hall to the right is the eating hall, and to the left is the armory and indoor training space. Dormitories are behind. The smaller houses back by the forest are private dwellings. We have reserved the farthest one for you. It is the quietest, and you will be least likely to be disturbed there.”

“Ashraf!” Ava yelled suddenly, and ran toward the combatants. Sulis realized Djinn was twining around the legs of a tall figure, who turned at Ava's cry. Ashraf scooped Ava up and twirled her around once.

“What is he doing here?” Sulis murmured to Grandmother as she tried to silently order Djinn back to her side. Djinn ignored her summons, his eyes half-­closed as Ashraf scratched his head.

“He was caught snooping, and they recruited him,” Grandmother said. “It seems he has the power to see through the illusions around this place.”

The training master yelled commands, and Ashraf bowed once in their direction, then turned back to his training. Sulis let her eyes linger on his chiseled muscles as Ava rejoined them, before catching Grandmother's sharp glance on her.

“You're not going to be like your mother, distracted by every pretty male here, are you?” Grandmother asked.

“I am not my mother,” Sulis said, turning her back and walking after the others. “I have focus.”

As they walked to the houses at the end of Kabandha, Sulis saw Ava's eyes widen. They'd been traveling for days and watching as the Sands became short grass, then taller grasslands. Now, behind the buildings stood a tall, lush forest.

“You have trees here! I thought this was all grasslands and desert,” Ava blurted out.

Yanil smiled. “Not all. The southern coastline is all forest, with great rains that come through, and we are just two days' ride from there. After the battle of the One, the desert took over the center of our lands. There was still forest at the edges, but we did not realize how fragile the soil was. Our ancestors tried to treat the land as it always had been used, chopping down trees at will, tilling the soil. But that created more desert. We had to learn to protect the trees, to value what the deep forest can give us.”

“Much of the meditation we do is in the forest,” Master Anchee said. “There is such a variety of life in those trees that it can help us begin to distinguish one life force from another in a peaceful environment.”

They came upon a small gray stone house at the edge of the forest. There was a large meditation garden in the front, with a small stream running through it. The inside smelled musty, as though it hadn't been used in years.

“There are five bedrooms above,” Yanil said. “You may take your meals at the eating hall, but you can store some food supplies for the times the Prophet has you in seclusion. I will return at sundown to escort you to the courtyard for evening ceremony.”

Yanil left, and Ava slipped her hand in Sulis's.

“Will you room with me?” she whispered. “I've never had to sleep in a room by myself. I don't want to be alone.”

Sulis looked over at the younger girl. Ava had been brave all week, meeting every query, every bit of information with attention. But she was so young. Sulis remembered what her grandmother said, that her role was to support now instead of to lead. The Weaver would need the Loom to ground her, but who would support the Loom, who was just thirteen and had already experienced too much of the darker side of life?

Sulis grinned at Ava. “Let's run up first to get the best room. Otherwise, Grandmother will steal the largest one.”

Ava laughed as they pushed past Anchee and Grandmother to run up the stairs. Sulis looked back to see Grandmother frowning, but Master Anchee grinned broadly in approval and winked at her. They tripped over the bedrolls stacked in the hallway at the top of the stairs and just managed to catch each other, still giggling.

They glanced into the north-­facing rooms and quickly rejected them. Ava cooed as she entered a corner, southeastern-­facing room. The windows on both the back and side walls showed a solid green canopy. There was a bench, and a small wooden clothespress.

“It reminds me of home,” Ava breathed. “Before Father died, and we moved to Illian. We had our own house, with trees on each side. I was just a little girl, but I still remember feeling like I was in a tree house.”

“Then this is the right room,” Sulis said. “We'll see how the bedrolls fit in.”

“I wish we had a real bed,” Ava said wistfully. “With a feather mattress and wooden frame.”

Sulis patted her on the shoulder. “For the Loom, anything is possible,” she said lightly. ­“People have been trampling each other to talk to you. They can get you a real bed if that makes you happy. One knows they're putting enough demands on you. You need to start demanding things back.”

“Do you think we'll be here long?” Ava asked, staring out the window.

Sulis shook her head. “I don't know. It seems like everyone but us has been training their entire lives for a prophecy I'd never heard of. I don't know if this prophecy is coming true in a few months, a year, or a decade. I don't know if anyone knows. But I'd think we'll need at least several months to a year here, learning everything they want us to know.”

“And then what?” Ava asked. “Do you think a war will start?”

“Maybe,” Sulis said. “Or maybe we'll do what Grandmother did—­go back to our normal lives, start families, and wait until something happens if it ever does.”

Ava flopped onto the bench. “I don't know if I'm the right person,” she whispered to Sulis. “I thought so, at that temple. I thought I heard the One. But what if it was just my imagination? What if it isn't me?”

Sulis settled beside Ava. “And I thought I was the only one with doubts,” she said dryly. “I'm afraid this great Prophet is going to take one look at me and throw me out.”

“I almost wish he would,” Ava said. “I don't want everyone to be looking at me again, whispering about me.”

Sulis snorted. “I'm the opposite. I like being the center of attention.” She grinned and nudged Ava with her shoulder until the girl looked up. “Tell you what, when you feel like you need everyone to leave you alone, send me a signal, and I'll do something outrageous. That way you get left alone, and I get to be stared at. A win for both of us.”

A smile played around Ava's mouth. “What would you do?” she asked.

Sulis laughed. “I don't know. That's half the fun. I'm sure Djinn and I will think of something.” She looked around, realizing the great cat hadn't followed them to the house. He'd find her later, after he'd explored every crevice and every corner of the city. She could sense his curiosity and satisfaction even when he wasn't with her.

“Here are your bedrolls, girls,” Grandmother interrupted, shoving the rolled mats into the room. “Get set up and come down for the meal. Your packs are down in the gathering area.”

That night, Sulis heard Ava toss and turn awhile before she went silent. Luckily, the girl didn't snore. Sulis had difficulty sleeping as well, unaccustomed to the moist humidity in the air after the dryness of the deep desert. Having Djinn's furry form pressed down the length of her body didn't help with her stickiness, and he grumbled when she pushed his head off her stomach and rolled away from him. Unlike Ava, Sulis preferred the sparseness of the road, the stars overhead, the feeling that they were going somewhere. Traveling to change. Sulis sighed, realizing she really only liked change that
she
controlled. Change that was safe and exactly how she planned it. So much was changing that was out of her control now.

Sulis glanced over at Ava. Ava's entire world had been one of unhappy change for a long time. One awful event after another, and now suddenly everyone was looking to her as a savior, the legendary Loom of the prophecy come to life. But in reality, she was a confused child, who'd been forced to become stronger than most.

Sulis wondered if that was true of all the heroes of legends. Were they heroes not because they were wise or superior, but because they didn't break, because they became stronger when asked to go through terrible changes beyond their control?

Sulis must have fallen asleep because sun filtering through the eastern window woke her. Djinn was gone, and Ava still slept, so Sulis rose quietly and dressed, thinking she could get in a little more practice with her forms before meeting this new Prophet.