The Obsidian Temple (21 page)

Anchee and Grandmother rushed with Clay to find the masters and ready for travel, as Sulis, Ava, and Ashraf went back to the house to pack.

“I wonder if that's why Farrah is so upset,” Ava said, as they pulled their leather travel sacks out of storage. “Because the Tribune is dying. That would be scary if you're in Illian.”

“What do you mean?” Sulis asked.

“I can feel her,” Ava said shyly. “I told Clay, and he said it's because I'm a Loom. I can feel all the threads connected to me, especially the ones I'm closest to like family and good friends. Farrah's been sad for a little while now, and anxious.”

“Maybe it is the Tribune's illness,” Sulis mumbled, not looking at Ashraf. She'd let Kadar explain what had happened if it ever came to that.

“Traveling again, so soon,” Ava said. “It was such a long journey before.”

Sulis smiled at her. “I used to make it twice a year,” she told the younger girl. “Though I'd never been to the Obsidian Temple or Kabandha. We'd go to Frubia and all the coastal cities. Then we'd return and make a big circle through the various trade posts. Uncle Aaron would break off a larger caravan to Illian, and we'd go up to the mountain cities and around and back to Shpeth. Last year was the longest I'd been in one place since I started apprenticing at fourteen.”

Ava shook her head. “In the North, they don't even let you pledge to the Temple until you're sixteen,” she said. “And you're supposed to go to school until at least then because you aren't mature enough to work.”

“Unless you're Forsaken,” Sulis reminded her. “I've seen tiny Forsaken children sweeping chimneys and acting as servants.”

Ava's lips turned down. “Unless you're Forsaken,” she agreed. Her face brightened as the mama
feli
entered their bedroom, followed by her three kittens, who tumbled and wrestled as they pounced on the bed.

“Will they come with us?” Ava asked, as the unspotted
feli
tumbled off the bed and began wrestling her pack straps.

“They're too young to make the journey,” Sulis said regretfully.

“We could rig something up, like you did with Djinn,” Ava said hopefully, giggling as she loosened the kitten's hold on the nightgown she was trying to pack. The kitten, now as big as a small dog, attempted to climb in the pack, fitting its head and shoulders in, with hindquarters and tail hanging out. Sulis could hear its purr from the other side of the room.

“We'll ask Palou,” Sulis promised, but she didn't think it was likely. The mama
feli
wasn't tame, and she doubted she could be trained to ride on a pavilion like Djinn, even if she'd allow them to take her kittens. And the kittens were too young to walk that far.

Palou confirmed her suspicions later as they were organizing the bundles to go on the humpbacks.

“Sorry, little one,” he told Ava, as her brow furrowed. “The mama stays with me but doesn't trust me that much. She and the kittens will be waiting here for us when we return. It's safest for them here.”

The next day was a whirlwind, but early dawn found them once again standing in front of packed humpbacks, blinking in the torchlighted courtyard.

“We'll come as soon as things are put right here,” Master Ursa assured them. “A quarter of our men are going with you.”

Sulis was dismayed to see the stranger who felt like Voras among the warriors. She scowled and pointed it out to Ashraf, who nodded.

“I found out his name is Raen; he's a new pledge. They pair new warriors up with seasoned ones,” he said. “They must have picked his partner to come. We'll keep an eye on him, don't worry.”

The farewell speeches had been made, and they'd started sorting out the humpbacks when Djinn appeared, carrying the unspotted kitten by its ruff. Everyone stopped and watched as he carefully carried it over to Ava and dropped it at her feet. She stared down, then knelt beside it and looked pleadingly at the group.

Sulis looked around, waiting for the mama
feli
to burst in and drag it back to her bed, but she didn't appear.

Palou stepped forward and picked up the kitten. He felt it over for injuries or marks, then turned it over and examined it, ignoring its angry mews at the indignity.

“This is the first I've been allowed to handle one. They've been weaned for a ­couple of weeks now, but Ava's been the only one allowed with them,” he said to the amused crowd. He carefully handed the kitten to Ava. “You've got a little boy there. You'll want to think hard about a good name for him, one he can grow into.”

Ava squeaked with excitement, her face glowing as Djinn looked on, the tip of his tail twitching in amusement.

“How will I carry him?” Ava asked, looking at the high-­sided saddle on the humpback.

Clay glared at his own humpback, which he'd gotten to kneel. “Best to let Sulis keep him and Djinn on her special saddle, with the basket already on. We can rig a basket to yours as we travel.” He threw a leg over the humpback and ordered it to rise. He clutched the saddle and turned slightly green. “I'm going to be very angry if this beast causes me to lose my breakfast.”

Sulis had her hands full, once she was on a standing humpback, trying to keep the little
feli
on the basket ledge in front of her. She finally rigged a harness for the kitten, tying to the pommel so it couldn't escape. It stopped wriggling away from her and tried to chew its way out of the harness instead. She looked around to find everyone waiting for her.

“Time to go?” she asked.

Anchee nodded, and they filed out. Sulis turned and looked over her shoulder at Kabandha in the dawn's light one last time, before they went through the shields, and it disappeared behind illusions.

 

Chapter 19

KADAR AND NABI
L
scouted around the warehouses, looking for where Farrah had taken the children. They were aware of the soldiers who watched everything the Southerners did and were careful to present their trip as business, closing the old warehouse Kadar had rented last year. The warehouse was empty, every tool and weapon gone, so Severin must have found a way to get the supplies to the Forsaken. Nothing else was amiss in the district.

“Wouldn't be surprised if Severin had them in one of his father's holdings,” Nabil murmured.

Kadar grimaced. “We can't get in the upper-­class district to find out.”

“Give it up, Kadar,” Nabil said, shaking his head. “They'll either pull it off and show up at the Forsaken town, or they'll be found out and killed. Nothing you can do either way.”

“There has to be a way to find them,” Kadar said, frustrated.

Nabil shot him a baffled look. “Why do you still care about them? I have half a mind to pull our guards from their city, but too many innocents would be harmed.”

Kadar shrugged. “I'm not worried about the Forsaken; I'm worried about the kidnapped children. I'm frightened what Farrah could do to them if she gets desperate. I can't believe I told her about the Children's Home.”

“You couldn't know what she'd do. This is useless. Let's go back to the house.”

A great crowd surrounded Kadar's house when they got back to their street, and Kadar muscled his way through, frightened that the guards had come for his family because of his work with the Forsaken. He sighed in relief as he realized families of other desert merchants were crowding around Uncle Aaron. He'd pulled one of the wagons into the courtyard, and the cousins were unloading staples for the household.

“What you doing back so soon?” Kadar yelled over the noise of the crowd, hugging his uncle.

Uncle Aaron slapped him on the back. “Was told by a
farspeaker
I needed to turn about before I reached Frubia and come back here,” Uncle Aaron said. “He had the message from Clay, who is an old family friend, so I knew things must be serious. I picked up some staples and drove us right here. Barely stopped to switch from humpbacks to mules, and pushed them hard to get here fast.” Uncle Aaron turned to the crowd of Southerners. “Let me settle in, get some food and drink. Send one person, late afternoon, to tell me how many want to leave. I won't be leaving for another day after, until the mules have rested. Go home.”

They ducked into the salesroom as Uncle Aaron murmured, “Everyone wants me to get their families out. I won't be able to take them all, but we should be able to transport some.”

The cook was directing the Forsaken in setting midmeal on the table, and as they sat around it, Kadar looked around at his family, feeling the tension in the air. Uncle Aaron was trying to lighten the mood by telling stories of the road, but Aunt Raella wasn't laughing, and the lines around her mouth were tight. Uncle Tarik picked at his food.

Simon joined them after unhitching and stabling the mule. Even his cousins seemed unsettled as the three oldest glared at their mother for suggesting they would leave with her, while the youngest kept his head down and stared at the food. Uncle Aaron gave up his attempt at levity and soon the only noise in the room was the clanking of utensils and chewing of food.

When they were mostly finished, Aunt Raella looked across at Kadar.

“I want to take Datura with us,” she told him.

Kadar's breath caught in his throat. “What?”

“It isn't safe here for her. Farrah is involved in the kidnappings. That's why she left her sister here. ­People know Datura is her daughter. If Farrah harmed Northern children, they'll want to go after her baby. Datura will be safe with me and her cousins. Dana and I can take care of her until you choose to join us.”

“She'll be safe with
you
,” Simon corrected. “We've talked about it, and we're staying with Father. This is our home. We've never lived in the desert, and we don't want to leave Illian when we might be useful.”

Everyone stared at the cousins, surprised. Uncle Aaron ducked his head, hiding a smile, but Kadar was impressed. He'd been so worried about his own affairs that he hadn't noticed how much the boys had grown the past ­couple of years.

Aunt Raella was speechless for a moment as she stared at her sons. “You are my children,” she said, her voice rising. “You will go back to my clan with me, take positions in the family business. You don't have a choice.”

“Abram, Kile, and I are over apprentice age,” Simon told her. “We can choose to go where we like.”

“Yanis is not,” Aunt Raella said. “He will be coming with me. And so will you. Your father won't let you stay, and no one else will apprentice you if he tells them not to.” She looked over at Uncle Tarik for confirmation.

He had a trapped look on his face. Aunt Raella would be furious with him if the boys stayed, but they'd be furious if he sent them away. He looked between his wife's panicked face and his sons' determined ones. He frowned and seemed to reach a decision.

“Yanis will go with his mother,” he said, and the boy stomped out the room, grumbling. “Abram and Kile, you will go as well.” He said, naming the two middle-­teen boys. He held up a hand as they protested. “It is time for Abram to travel with Aaron and learn that end of the business anyway, so he will stay with the caravan. Aaron will need both of you to help with the wagons of the families leaving, with so many travelers going with him. Once there, Kile, you can decide whether to stay, or come back with the next wagon as Abram apprentices with Uncle Aaron. Simon, the choice is yours whether to help with the caravan or stay here. You are almost a man, and we need to respect your decisions.”

“I've been working with healers the past few weeks, helping the Forsaken,” Simon said. “They're shorthanded. I'll stay and continue my work.”

Uncle Tarik nodded and turned to Kadar, and Kadar saw sympathy in his eyes. “However, I agree with Raella about Datura. I know you can't leave, but she will be safer away from retribution if things go badly. Raella loves her like the daughter I never gave her, and she will be safest in the crowd of families and guards we'll have for the caravan.”

Kadar nodded slowly, his heart sinking as he thought about separating from his girl. He knew it was best for her but hated it anyway. He also knew it was what Farrah wanted, what she'd told him to do for her sister and daughter.

“I know you're right though I don't like it,” he said. “We also need to get Farrah's sister, Thea, out of town. I promised Farrah I'd keep her safe. It might be a good opportunity to smuggle Sanuri to the desert.”

Aunt Raella frowned. “Unless we've heard from your grandmother, I'm not taking Sanuri. She doesn't know how to keep quiet, and her odd behavior would just draw attention to us.”

“I'll see what Aaron says,” Uncle Tarik said. “He might have a message from Mother.”

Letting Datura go wasn't simple either. Dana did not want to leave the city, which left them without a wet nurse, and Datura wasn't weaned yet.

“We're not going,” Dana said shortly when Aunt Raella pressed her. “My mother's in the north part of town, and we can't leave her. That's all I'm going to say.”

Aunt Raella felt that they should take their chances and use goat milk, weaning Datura quickly. She also refused to hear of Thea's going with them, claiming that they couldn't hide her and that the Forsaken girl would get them all arrested if they tried to smuggle her out. Aunt Raella and Kadar were loudly arguing about Datura and Thea in the living area when a soft voice interrupted them.

“Excuse me?”

Kadar turned and saw Alannah in the doorway, a blond woman peering curiously over her shoulder. “No one answered when I knocked, so we let ourselves in. I may have the answer for you.”

Aunt Raella pursed her lips and turned to go, unhappy with having a Temple acolyte in their living room. She stopped at Alannah's next words.

“I may have a wet nurse for Datura, as well as a caretaker for the little girl,” she said, gesturing the blonde forward.

The woman was wearing a robe of pink, the color of the maidens of Ivanha, and had a small baby in a sling across her breast.

“This is Joaquil. She has told me she's willing to nurse Datura as well as her son. She will not be questioned if she also claims the little girl as a foster child.”

“In exchange for what?” Kadar asked suspiciously. He thought he recognized the face as one of the pledges who had caused Sulis trouble last year. She and her friends had flirted with him when he took lessons at the Temple.

“A chance to start over,” Joaquil said. “My mother's family refused to take us in, said I should return to the Temple and give up my little one.” She cast an adoring eye down at her baby and caressed his head. “I was raised in that children's home. It's the only thing I've known, and it's no substitute for a real family. In Illian, I'll always be known as a failed acolyte of Ivanha. I'm a good seamstress, and I work hard. Alannah said the One guided her to bring me here.” That last was almost pleading.

“Joaquil's
feli
was killed protecting the infants from the kidnappers,” Alannah told them. “She chose to leave ser­vice, to stay with her child.”

“The Counselors gave me leave to wear my robe until we are in the desert,” Joaquil added. “You won't be stopped if I'm with you because they'll think you have Ivanha's blessing.” She paused, then blurted out, “I know Sulis and I didn't get along, but the Templar used me, and ­people died because of it. I can't ever make up for it, but I love my son, and I want to find a place where no one knows me, so I can just be his mother, and he can be a normal boy. I'm done with the Temple and all the scheming.”

“You will have the One's blessing,” Alannah said. “That is, if you are willing to take her in and help her find a place among you.”

Kadar looked at Aunt Raella, who seemed to be measuring up the former acolyte. Kadar sensed that she didn't particularly like the woman's coming with them, but understood the protection she'd give the whole caravan. It would be impossible for an entire caravan to be detained by soldiers if a maiden of Ivanha were among them.

“My family runs a large business and can always use another hand,” Aunt Raella told her. Kadar let a breath out he hadn't realized he was holding. “It doesn't pay much, but you'll have a room in the hall and three meals a day.”

Joaquil nodded. “We should see if the baby is willing to nurse from me. Do you have any idea when we might leave?”

“Uncle Aaron says the mules will be rested the day after tomorrow,” Kadar said. The woman bit her lip and looked down, and he added, “I think we could set up a cot for you in the children's room, if you wanted to stay near Datura, get her used to you. It would be a bit crowded, with the three kids, but you'll have to get used to that on the road anyway.”

Joaquil nodded. “That would work best for me. I don't have anywhere else to go.”

Alannah's head snapped up, and her eyes stopped focusing. In the distance, bells started ringing, close to the Temple. Kadar exchanged frightened looks with his aunt, and Uncle Tarik and Uncle Aaron pushed through the doorway, faces worried.

Alannah refocused on them. “The Tribune has passed on.” She looked directly at Uncle Aaron. “It would be best if you left the city in the morning. The soldiers will be going on high alert with the kidnappers still at large and the upper class arriving for the funeral and instatement of the new Voice.”

Uncle Aaron nodded. “We'll go slow, do half days to get us away from town,” he told her. “Thank you for the warning.”

She nodded and took her leave, and the rest of the family sprang into action. Kadar spent the rest of the day sending messages to the families they were taking to be ready in the morning. In the evening, he cradled his little girl while she squirmed and wanted to be put down, preparing himself to let her go in the care of his aunt. The thought that he would follow as soon as he could was no consolation.

T
HE
C
RONE KNELT
on the prayer bench at her personal altar beside her office, her
feli
lying in front of her. Her hands were buried in his fur as she closed her eyes to reach out to Ivanha. She felt a rush of relief as that link was taken up, and her goddess was with her, fully, for the first time in over a year.

Our exile is over,
Ivanha told her.
The One has relented in the face of this strife. Where do we stand? What has been happening in the city?

The Crone felt Ivanha rifling through her thoughts and memories of the past year, then probing deeper, rummaging through the Crone's regrets, her fears, her doubts. She felt her face flush in shame at the amount of doubt, overwhelmed with her unworthiness in the scrutiny of her deity.

Yes, this happens after a long absence,
Ivanha hissed.
It is probably what the One wanted when he took us away from our Voices. The Voices lose their understanding of divinity and become only human once again. When left to their own recourse, humans doubt, humans lose faith.

The Crone sent a wave of love and apology to Ivanha, ashamed of her humanness, ashamed she'd wavered in her devotion.

You are very old.
Ivanha's mindvoice seemed surprised, as though she had not realized how many years had slipped by.
The elderly become sentimental. When this crisis is over, you will gather the Mother Superiors, and I will search for your replacement among them. You have served me well over so many years. You deserve a rest.

Tears coursed down the Crone's face at the approval in Ivanha's voice. Her goddess was kind not to blame her for her human weakness. All she had wanted her entire life was to serve Ivanha the best she could. It was overwhelming to hear that her goddess had been pleased with her ser­vice.