The World Weavers

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The World Weavers Page 10

by Kelley Grant


  “Because we are chained to the feli,” Aryn said for Parasu, “we cannot simply order our humans into battle and control them as we like. Our Voices are not strong enough to geas an entire army. We must lay our plans carefully, feed our ­people information that will inflame their desire for war.” She nodded to Voras, who had narrowed his eyes suspiciously at her. “You have laid a foundation, blaming the Southerners for the actions of the Forsaken. ­People trust my healers. I will have them spread more rumors about the Southerners. By the time we are finished, ­people will be begging us to destroy the South.”

  “I want to reclaim the Forsaken who left Illian and went north,” Voras said. “They are murderers and kidnappers and should not be allowed their freedom.”

  ­“People will demand that you capture them by the time we’re through,” Aryn said.

  Voras stared between the two of them and then abruptly sat. “I did not expect you to be reasonable about this.”

  “We want the same thing you do,” Parasu said. “Our freedom. What we do after that freedom is gained is up to each deity. Until then, we will each contribute in our own way. I suggest meetings every five days, among only ourselves.”

  “Agreed,” Voras said.

  “I am willing,” Ivanha said. “As long as you keep to the bargain.”

  “We are not the ones sneaking about.” Aryn’s temper flashed. “We will keep our end.”

  “Then it is settled. We gather our ­people and regain our freedom,” Parasu said. “We meet again in a five-­day.”

  As Jonas watched, the other three Voices slumped to the table, devoid of their deity. Jonas expected Parasu to recede, but his deity paused and examined Jonas from the inside.

  You see now, my young Voice, why questioning the Southerners was necessary? Parasu said directly into his mind. You serve me well, even with your doubts.

  Jonas was confused as his deity examined him, probing in his mind and examining his concerns. Jonas held himself still as his deity inserted his will into those doubts, smoothed over his concerns. Then a sense of purpose and satisfaction arose, as Parasu placed those feelings into his mind. Parasu allowed Jonas to see his pride in his Voice, and Jonas flushed with happiness.

  Of course, Jonas said. I am sorry. I was wrong to ever doubt you. You are always looking for the greater good. I am young and need guidance.

  Parasu enveloped his mind, sending him feelings of warmth. You will serve me well. You will step into your place as Tribune, and the Magistrate will only guide you when asked. See how much stronger you are than these other human Voices?

  Jonas looked out over the collapsed Voices of the other deities and felt a wave of contempt. They were barely stirring and would need assistance to even stand. Jonas could walk out of the room and serve Parasu’s will. These humans would need to rest and recover.

  Exactly, Parasu said, his mindvoice filled with satisfaction. With you as my Voice, I will be dominant. Together we will rule. Find the Magistrate, and we will tell him our desires.

  Jonas stood, in control of his body once again. He walked out the door and summoned a ­couple of acolytes. “Please return the Voices to their altars,” he told them. His voice sounded flat, even to himself. “It is Parasu’s will.”

  CHAPTER 8

  Sulis shivered in the night air as her humpback followed closely behind Ashraf’s. A line was strung between the humpbacks in their party, a precaution in the dim light of the half moon they were traveling by. If one of them fell asleep or their humpback fell behind due to injury or weakness, they would know right away. They would not become the bleached bones they’d run across in their trek.

  The Chosen were approaching the Obsidian Temple, and exhaustion was setting in. Their taciturn Tigu guide Ramia thrived in this climate. But for the Chosen and Amon, sleep was hard to come by during the day, as temperatures climbed with the sun and made it hard to breathe, even in the scant shade they sheltered under. And dropping temperatures at night made for miserable travel, as wind whipped sand into their eyes and mouths. The scarcity of water hollowed out their faces and their skin split in the dryness.

  Three of the supply humpbacks had succumbed to the harsh environment. Ramia had savored the fresh meat of the poor beasts, but Sulis could barely force herself to eat the tough, gamey, mostly raw steaks, and Ava had gagged and eaten her dried meat sticks instead.

  Surprisingly, Northerners Dani and Lasha were the happiest among their group of travelers. Lasha spent most of her time questioning Master Anchee and gazing around as though the Sands were a beautiful discovery. Dani didn’t mind the heat as much as the rest and developed a system of signals and small words to communicate with their guide. He and Ramia sparred before the heat of morning and in the evening when they woke. He’d decided his role with Ava was one of a big brother, and he tended her and Sanuri as they tumbled off their humpbacks in the morning, badgered them to eat and set up a sunshade so they could rest during the day. The two younger Chosen suffered the worst, their pale skin reddening even under their scarves and light robes. Clay helped them rub healing plant paste on their burns and around their chapped lips and hands every morning. Even Ava’s feli kitten, Nuisance, was listless and ate little.

  Dani and Lasha questioned Master Anchee about the system of elements they based their dances on and Sulis listened in.

  “So why the five elements—­metal, wood, fire, earth, and water—­instead of earth, wind, water, and fire, the way we were taught?” Dani asked.

  “The Southerners just like to be different,” Lasha said with a grin. “And really, it’s five elements for us as well, if you include the ether.”

  “No,” Master Anchee reproved. “The deities in the North focus on what is material—­air, water, earth, and fire. Tangible things. Southerners focus on energy—­how those elements are in constant interaction with each other.”

  Dani frowned, concentrating. “So you mix earth and water elements and that creates wood energy?”

  “It’s more complex than that,” Anchee said. “There are cycles of balance—­creation and destruction. In creation, wood feeds fire, fire creates earth, earth bears metal, metal collects water, and water nourishes wood. In destruction, wood parts earth, earth absorbs water, water quenches fire, fire melts metal, and metal chops wood. There are many other cycles, but those are the most important because they cause the swirling energy around us.”

  Dani shook his head, baffled, but Lasha exchanged a grin with Alannah, enjoying this new view of life.

  The dawn was breaking as they set up sun shelters and widened the small spring bubbling between the rocks so they could carry buckets to the humpbacks. It had been two days since their last water source, and the beasts drank greedily as the humans refilled their own flasks and waterskins. They were skirting the edges of the black mountains, approaching the Obsidian Temple by a route only the Tigus knew. The adult feli traveled with them by night, but they’d been disappearing by day, probably finding a cool cave closer to the mountains to rest in.

  “Ramia says we should be at the waymarker the day after next,” Grandmother told Sulis. “Has Kadar contacted you?”

  Sulis thought a moment, trying to remember. The days blurred together with her exhaustion. “Not since we left the warehouses,” she said. “The Tigus he’s assigned to are harassing Voras’s army and trying to winnow them down before the army goes to war with the South.”

  “Has he heard from Aaron?” Grandmother asked. Her expression was bleak, and Sulis knew she was thinking of her lost son, Tarik.

  “Not that I know,” Sulis said. “Should I ask him to search for Uncle Aaron when he contacts me again?”

  Grandmother shook her head. “No, he shouldn’t waste energy on the fears of an old, tired woman,” she said, bitterly.

  Sulis was alarmed by Grandmother’s tone. Any other time Grandmother would swat Sulis for calling her old.

>   “Why don’t you sit in the shade?” she said, pulling her grandmother to the canvas they’d set up. “I’ll get you some water and dates. Let us youngsters tend the humpbacks.”

  Grandmother protested angrily, and Clay grabbed her arm.

  “The girl is right, Joisha,” he said, settling with a sigh. “We need our energy for the last push to the waymarker. One knows what challenges we will face at the temple itself. Let these youths treat us like revered ancestors. I could use a little pampering.”

  Sulis bit her lip at this sign of weakness from their elder guides. She filled another bucket, coming alongside Ashraf as he watered his humpback.

  “What was that?” he asked.

  “I think Grandmother needs to rest more. She was asking about Kadar, and worrying about Uncle Aaron. I don’t think she’s recovered from Uncle Tarik’s death. I’m worried about her, Ashraf.” Her parched eyes burned, too dry for tears. “If she is this frail—­how will she survive the trials to come?” I don’t want to lose my grandmother, she thought.

  Ashraf put an arm around her, pulling her close. “She is grieving for her son,” he said. “She will have time to recover at the temple, before the final battle begins. You will see—­she will be strong again.”

  “We won’t all make it out alive, will we, Ashraf?” Sulis said into his chest.

  “Probably not,” he said seriously. “We must treasure the now.”

  The heat was making them sticky, so Sulis pulled away, splashed her face with a little of the water she was carrying. She looked around at the already blinding morning, the heat waves shimmering off the rocks.

  “And what a moment to treasure,” she said dryly. “Uncle Aaron is probably cooler and happier wherever he is.”

  Tori stood in her stirrups, looking both ways at the intersection where they’d paused, and then at the mass of ­people who were following her. Her group was supposed to take the left-­hand juncture and head straight to Illian. But something in her heart told her she should turn right to go west. Tori had to decide if the pull was something the One wanted or if it was her natural contrariness shoving her the wrong way.

  “Where to, oh mighty leader?” Sandy asked, pulling his horse up beside her.

  Once Tori and the twins had reached the altar in Caracas, the twins’ conversion to Counselors had been very similar to her own experience at her temple—­a glorious flash of white, cloaks turning gold. The twins and ten other acolytes had been converted to Counselors of the One, the most of any temple so far. Only the twins were called to go with Tori when she left, called to Illian. They’d been a welcome relief from Evan’s frowns.

  Shane was fine with leaving his seaside home, but Sandy was all fire and resisted. He was constantly asking questions. Tori wished she had some answers.

  “We should head toward Illian,” Tori said. “But it doesn’t feel right.”

  Evan rode up beside them. “We go southeast, toward Illian,” he said.

  Shane cocked his head, listening to something. “Do we?” he asked.

  “You feel it, too?” Tori asked, and he nodded. She breathed a sigh of relief, feeling less alone and responsible for all the decisions.

  Evan frowned. “The plan was to go to Illian, take our places at the Temple of the One, and prepare for the great change. Amon has already traveled through the desert with your friend Alannah. We don’t have time to run off on a side trip because you feel like it.”

  “That clearing back about a half mile looked like a good campsite for this many ­people. Let’s stop for the night,” Tori said. “I need to figure out what our next move is.”

  Evan glared at Tori. Tori gazed evenly back. Zara came and sat at Tori’s side, her head touching Tori’s foot in the stirrup. She yawned, showing her large white teeth.

  Evan jerked his horse’s head around and called out orders to the others milling about. They headed up the road, Tori and the twins trailing.

  Sandy nodded toward Evan. “Thinks he’s in charge, doesn’t he?”

  Tori nodded. “Until I went to the Temple and came back with Zara, he was in charge. He’d read all the ancient scrolls and was the authority on what the One wanted us to do.”

  “And you upstaged him with a feli,” Shane said. “So he is resentful. Was that deliberate? Or did you feel a calling to pledge?”

  “The Descendants of the Prophet serve the One directly and never pledge to the Temple,” Tori said. “Mostly because a deity could seize our minds and find out what the second part of the prophecy says. I was confident that I could shield myself. I’d read the same texts Evan had. I’d translated the same ancient scrolls . . .” She paused, weighing her words. “I . . . was not convinced his interpretation was accurate. I wanted confirmation.”

  “And have you gotten it?” Sandy asked, glaring down at his feli. “Because I don’t feel like having a feli has answered any questions for me.”

  Tori nodded. “I sometimes feel the One’s will, if I quiet my mind enough and focus. That’s why I want to stop for the night. I think the three of us should join together, try to understand what the One wants from us.”

  They set up camp far back in the clearing. Evan set a guard and looked on disapprovingly as Tori, Shane, and Sandy sat in a circle, their feli pressed against them. Tori held out her hands, and Shane readily took hers and held out his hand to his brother. Sandy grimaced at both their hands and gingerly took them.

  “Let your breathing slow, deepen,” Tori said softly. “Calm your mind. Allow the thoughts to start to spiral in and lessen, becoming one-­pointed. Feeling the physical connection between us, reach out with your single-­pointed energy and connect each to each.”

  Tori’s palms became warm as she sent energy through that link. The heat became a tingling sensation as they connected as a group, the feli naturally joining them as energy enhancers and shields to distracting outside energy. Boosted by the twins, Tori let her senses range and felt her mind be gently guided. The One was pushing her toward another person. She could feel the energy of Vrishni traveling through the area, and in the seaport they’d recently left. There was no alarm in those minds, so she ranged farther, searching to understand the urgency she felt.

  Far southeast of where they were camped, she sensed a disturbance: many bodies and energy in a place with no towns or cities. A mind that felt strongly like Voras came within her reach and the One guided her away from that connection.

  Instead she was guided to another searching mind, a worried mind. Tori connected.

  Who are you? the male mindvoice asked. The One connected us, but you don’t feel like a Vrishni, or even one of my Southern farspeakers.

  I’m a Counselor for the One, Tori told him. Newly chosen and heading to Illian. I felt something was wrong and reached out. Who are you? What is happening that the One wants me to see?

  I am Aaron Hasifel, a merchant, the man said.

  That was Sulis’s clan, Tori realized.

  Do you know Sulis? Tori asked. I was a pledgemate of hers. A friend.

  Sulis is my niece, he answered, his mindvoice surprised.

  Why are you here? Your home is in Shpeth, is it not?

  I fled to the Forsaken city of Stonycreek when my clansman was taken by Voras and then killed. Now I’m trapped here.

  By whom? Tori asked. She felt his hesitation. The One guided me to help with your plight. You felt her connect us. You can trust me.

  I doubt anyone from the Temple is to be trusted, the Southerner said grimly. Not after Voras went back on his word not to pursue the Forsaken of this town.

  Voras wants the Forsaken back, doesn’t he? Tori asked, realizing why she might feel a Knight of Voras on the road. He’s trying to press them into his army.

  Yes. Voras has broken his promise to let the Forsaken go. He has sent troops to capture and claim the Forsaken for his army, Aaron said. They will
arrive in a matter of days.

  Tori nodded. The sense that the One wanted her to travel to Stonycreek, not Illian, heightened with his words. How large a troop? she asked. How many men do you have?

  We have about fifty men and women who can fight. Several hundred Forsaken need protection. Voras has sent more than two hundred men to take us. I believe he will kill or capture us Southerners and conscript the Northerners.

  We are coming, Tori said. We can match their numbers. We are all fighters and energy users as well as three Counselors of the One. I believe we will arrive in three days. Can you hold them off?

  Yes, Aaron returned, relief brightening his mindvoice. I believe we can. We have already set traps and collapsed bridges to slow them. I don’t know who you are or why you are interceding, but One bless you.

  Bless the One instead, Tori sent. She sends us to battle for you.

  Tori broke the sending and unclasped hands. Sandy shook his hands out to rid them of the tingling that still twitched her palms, too.

  “How are we going to fight against two hundred of Voras’s troops?” Sandy asked. “Is your group really that well trained?”

  Tori nodded and rose to her feet. “It won’t be much of a fight,” she said. “You will see. Once we kill the leaders and the commander, who is probably Voras driven, the Forsaken troops will rally for the One. I doubt they’re eager to attack their own ­people.”

  Sandy shook his head disbelievingly as Evan walked over.

  “Well?” he asked.

  “Our first battle for the One is ahead!” Tori said in a clear, ringing voice. The Descendants cheered in response and Zara roared. “We battle a cohort of fighters from Voras’s army to save the Forsaken in three days!”

  In a lower voice she addressed Evan, who was looking around with a sour expression. “We go east. The town of Stonycreek, a haven for the Forsaken, is under attack by Voras’s troops. The One wants us to claim them. It will be a good place for us to wait and plan until the time is right to continue to Illian.”

 

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