The Obsidian Temple (6 page)

“They just stood and watched while the soldiers killed my mother. They didn't even stop to help while she bled out on the cobblestones. They don't deserve your pity.”

“You don't mean that,” Kadar said.

Farrah stared at him a moment, her face marble, that of a stranger. Then her expression melted, became rueful.

“I didn't want to talk about this today. It's our first day together since you got back! Let's just enjoy the day, Kadar,” she said, smiling.

Kadar smiled back, and they wandered through the city, hand in hand until dusk fell and he returned her back to her siblings and kissed her good night.

But that night it came back to him as he tossed and turned, trying to sleep. His uncle was right. Farrah was deeply angry over her mother's death. And she felt betrayed by Ashraf's absence. Kadar needed to defuse that anger and find a way for her ­people to get to safety in the desert. It was time to tell his uncles about the plan he and Ashraf had concocted to move the Forsaken to the abandoned desert city. With Ashraf detained, he needed allies.

Something covered his nose and mouth, and he choked and flailed, shoving something fuzzy off his face.

“Mrrrr,” sounded beside his head, part growl, part inquiry. Then he felt claws on his nightrobe and a weight as Amber curled up like a rock on his chest. The rumble of the little cat's purr lulled him to sleep.

 

Chapter 6

SULIS PACED THE
small temple. Djinn watched her with his head on Ava's lap, draped over a padded stone bench, his twitching tail the only hint that he was feeling Sulis's irritation. She'd been pacing most of the night already even though the white-­robed woman had told her she was supposed to be meditating.

She stopped. “How can I pledge to something I don't understand?” she asked the white-­robed woman again. “At least in Illian they took the time to explain things to us.”

The woman spread her hands in a giving gesture. She was sitting cross-­legged on a soft meditation mat in front of a crystal globe atop a pedestal. It reflected the black walls, Sulis, and everything surrounding it. It was an altar to the One, and was the only decoration in the small room besides the bench and some meditation zafus and zabutons.

“If it is right for you to be here, all will be revealed to you. If you are not to be involved, it is best for you to know nothing,” the woman said placidly. “You will not be harmed. This is why we don't give our names or our purpose to initiates.”

“
Won't be harmed
,” Sulis said bitterly. “I've certainly heard that before.” She curbed her rising panic, fighting it down with all her strength as she tried not to remember the night of her last initiation, when everything went wrong.

Surprisingly, Ava seemed at ease in the small temple. She sat still on the bench, stroking Djinn's head. Her eyes were unfocused. She'd settled into meditation after they'd eaten the stew the unnamed woman brought for them. The woman hadn't even had to tell her to meditate; she just fell right into it. Sulis tried to settle down but was immediately sucked back into the past, into pain and terrible memories. So she was pacing instead, badgering the woman and waiting for sunrise and another terrible ceremony.

“Where do you ­people live?” Sulis asked. “There isn't much here but stone. How do you grow anything?”

“There are dorms and stables in back of the temple,” the woman responded mildly. “There is a water source, provided by the One. The oasis is a day's ride away, and we grow many things there. We also have a regular caravan tithing food and necessities we cannot grow.”

Sulis turned as someone coughed politely at the doorway. A man also cloaked in white stood holding two bundles of cloth. He shook them out. More white cloaks.

“No,” Sulis shook her head, backing away. “I've done this before. It didn't turn out well.”

Ava shook herself, seeming to wake, and pushed Djinn's head off her lap before standing.

“It'll be okay,” she told Sulis. “
She
told me it would. She made me feel better.”

Sulis stared at her in surprise. Communing with the One had never made Sulis feel better about anything. Ava slipped her hand in Sulis's. Sulis looked into her earnest blue eyes, then at the man still holding out the cloaks.

“Fine. But don't expect me to be happy about any of this,” she snapped.

“No, we wouldn't want you to be happy,” the woman responded, her voice exasperated.

Sulis bit back her own sarcastic reply at Ava's imploring look. The man disappeared after handing them the cloaks. They changed in silence.

“He also brought a tisane to help you relax,” the woman said. “But I'm guessing you won't want to relax?”

Ava smiled. “It won't be necessary,” she said confidently. “I've been assured that everything will go smoothly. They are waiting for us.”

As Ava walked confidently out the door, Sulis glanced over at the temple woman, catching a surprised expression on the woman's face, which turned thoughtful as she watched Ava's back. She gestured Sulis toward the door.

Djinn followed at her heels. They paused at a door, which opened into a large space, the main temple area, and was lighted by tall oil lamps. A crowd of white cloaks on either side of the door made a pathway for them to go through to an altar. The altar contained a giant crystal sphere representing the One, as large as a boulder, which seemed to glow as it reflected its surroundings, as well as four strangely shaped pillars on each side of the globe.

Sulis felt a pressure build in her mind as she walked after Ava, who confidently strode toward the pillars. It felt as though she were back in the Temple at Illian again, feeling the deities' presence as a constant pressure, one she hadn't noticed until it was gone. The temple master, a tall, spare woman wearing a white cloak sewn with spiraling designs and colors, waited for them in the center of the pillars beside the crystal sphere. She held a staff in one hand and raised her other hand in blessing as the girls approached.

Sulis shook her head, trying to clear it, as the pressure grew. As she approached, the shape of the pillars became clear. With horror, she realized that they were actually human in shape, but taller than normal humans. They were so detailed, they looked like ­people turned to obsidian. Their stone faces were twisted in expressions of horror, and Sulis gasped as she realized the pressure was coming from those obsidian statues. As she drew close, she recognized the faces though she'd never seen them represented in terror and pain before. To the east was the deity Aryn, one hand flung up as though warding off a blow. Parasu, to the north, was a thin, long figure with a painfully resigned expression. Ivanha, still beautiful with flowing black locks and her mouth open in a silent scream, took the western post.

Sulis collapsed to her knees as she gazed to the south on the last figure, all strength gone out of her legs. It was Voras. Sulis could feel his presence beating on her, just as she had felt it that terrible night of the initiation when he used his Templar to force a bonding on Luella and Dani.

Sulis curled in a ball on the floor of the Temple, oblivious to the crowds around her as her mind relived that terrible day when she and her friends had tried to pledge. She saw Luella's blank, dead eyes staring back at her, Dani collapsed on the floor. She sobbed as she saw Djinn leap to protect her, only to be skewered on the sword of the Templar of Voras. Then the Templar came at her with the sword, Voras's vicious, indomitable will pushing hers aside, making her feel defenseless. The sword flashed down again, and phantom pain descended.

Sulis was vaguely aware of the present, of Ava's trying to get to her and being restrained. But she was so locked into the painful flashback that Ava seemed like the dream, her memories the reality.

Then a large furry head pushed through her clenched arms and bumped her under her chin. A purr vibrated her entire jaw as she threw her arms around Djinn's body. The pressure receded as Djinn licked her chin with a sandpaper tongue. Sulis gave a great sobbing sigh and buried her head in the great cat's ruff.

A gentle presence touched her mind.

You serve me well though you have been greatly harmed for it
, the One whispered in her mind.

“I thought you had abandoned me,” Sulis said, keeping her eyes closed, trying to feel the One's calling once again.

I am always here. There is no other way for me to be.

“Then why did you let her die?” Sulis demanded. “Why didn't you protect Djinn?” Why did you make me suffer so much, she thought, but didn't ask out loud. She didn't need to. The One heard.

I cannot always communicate in words mortals understand. I cannot prevent the suffering brought on by other mortals. I gave that power to the deities and have lost it for myself. That is why I need you.

Sulis found herself on her hands and knees and looked up at the great sphere that represented the One. “You need me? Why should I let you use me again?” she shouted, furious. “Why should I let you kill the ­people I love and abandon me? Why should I trust you again?”

Because I am not what I once was.
The voice in her head was tinged with worry and sadness.
I gave up too much to the deities. And there is a part of me trapped here at this temple just as there remains a part of the deities. If I am not brought to wholeness, those you love, and the ones they love and all mortals, will suffer as you have. The time approaches, and you are needed to bring about balance.

Sulis thought about her beloved twin, imagining him slashed through the middle with a sword. She saw her grandmother and aunts slaughtered by the ravenous will of Voras. She shuddered and looked over at Ava, who stared at her in complete understanding. At Ava who endured and still had faith.

“Fine,” Sulis whispered. She straightened and said loudly now, “Fine. Use me. What I have to give is yours. Just protect the ­people I love, and you can have everything that I am.”

Light flared, and her cloak turned golden for a moment.

“Not exactly the traditional words,” a woman's voice said dryly. Sulis's eyes cleared, and she looked up at the temple master, who smiled down at her. The woman held out her hand, and Sulis allowed herself to be drawn to her feet. “But I suppose I should have expected nothing else from a Hasifel. Welcome to the Keepers of the One, Sulis Hasifel Shalindar. Stand with your grandmother as we perform the more traditional method of initiation for your companion.”

Sulis took a step back as her grandmother's strong arm came around her shoulders. She gazed into a lined face that was fierce with pride. Sulis wiped away the tears on her cheeks as she turned again to face the pillars. The presence of Voras wasn't as strong now, softened by the presence of the One.

Ava stood straight, with her chin raised before the pillars. The temple master raised her staff.

“We meet here at the fallen gods,” the woman said in a clear, ringing voice. “At the changing of the times. Before us we see the four deities, arrogant and powerful as they were. We see them struck down by the One who guides and loves us all, reshaped into molten stone, their divine essence trapped so they could be controlled. We await the Loom.”

Sulis repeated, a step behind the crowd, when she realized it was expected, “We await the Loom.”

“We await the Loom, who will create the foundation upon which the Weaver will stand to braid the future. We await the Weaver,” the temple master called.

Sulis repeated with the crowd, “We await the Weaver.”

“We await the Weaver who will take these separate strands and make them whole. We await the Shuttles.”

“We await the Shuttles,” Sulis and the crowd responded.

“We await the Shuttles, who will create the patterns that will balance the tapestry of life. And lastly, we await the Guardians, who will shelter and protect those who weave, those who ground, and those who dance.”

Sulis felt overwhelmed, realizing that all these ­people were awaiting a prophecy that she'd never heard of.

“The prophecy is hundreds of years old, foretold by a northern Vrishni shortly after the sundering.”

Sulis nodded, wondering what part the One wanted her to play.

“You are not the Weaver,” her grandmother whispered. “Nor are you the Loom.”

Sulis glanced at her grandmother quickly, then back to the front, frowning, wishing she could block her grandmother from reading her thoughts.

“You will support, as others have supported you through the years,” Grandmother said in her ear. “It will be a bitter pill for you. But it will be the making of you.”

Sulis turned her attention forward again as the temple master approached Ava. “Who sponsors this child?” she asked, and Master Anchee stepped forward.

“I do. She has proven worthy,” he said.

“If called by the One, are you willing to serve with whole heart, keeping your ser­vice silent and holding her secrets close?” the temple master asked Ava.

“Yes,” Ava said. “I want to serve.”

“Then come, child, place your hands on the sphere and know if you have the calling,” the master gestured.

Ava confidently stepped and placed her hands on the softly glowing sphere. It flared, bathing all in golden light. From the center of the light, Ava's voice shouted triumphantly.

“I am the Loom!” her voice called, an otherworldly undertone making her voice carry through the hall.

The crowd around Sulis gasped, then erupted in whispers. They stilled as Ava continued.

“The Weaver has been found. The three Shuttles are here with you. It has begun. It has begun!”

The temple master caught Ava as her knees gave out, and set her gently down, placing her head between her knees as the golden light dimmed.

Many ­people in the crowd prostrated themselves on the floor, as others hugged each other, and still others put their heads in their hands and wept. Sulis gazed around with bemusement, noticing that Grandmother and Master Anchee did not seem surprised.

The temple master raised her hands, stilling the crowd. “Obviously, there is much still to be done. This is a blessed but unexpected event, and we will need to discuss what is to come. These travelers must continue on tomorrow to begin the training that will allow them to fulfill their roles. Tonight will be a celebration. Retire to the dining hall while I speak to our newest initiates.”

The hall emptied quickly and loudly as ­people fled, eager to begin gossiping about the events. Grandmother and Master Anchee converged on the temple master and Ava, and Sulis reluctantly followed, not wanting to be any closer to the gruesome statues than necessary.

Master Anchee flopped down unceremoniously beside Ava and put an arm around her shoulders, a look of satisfaction on his face. “Good handling of the crowd, Sari,” he told the temple master.

“You might have warned me,” Sari said dryly. “We're lucky our initiates have discipline. We might have had a riot.”

“I wasn't certain myself,” Anchee said. “I expected the Loom to be from the desert. Joisha told me she'd suspected it was Ava, but I had a hard time believing it until she took to the sacred language like it was her own tongue.”