The World Weavers

by Kelley Grant

  There was more activity in the camp beside the endless drills they’d observed. When not drilling, fighters were taking down clotheslines, grooming horses, and sharpening weapons.

  “Yes,” Onyeka said. “It begins.”

  She squinted, and then put the glass to her eye, scanning the far side of the ridge they were on as she saw movement. “Time to go. I see a feli patrol scouting the ridge.”

  She and Kadar slipped down the steep trail on the ridge to where another warrior guarded their horses. They silently mounted. The veil of desert magic slipped over them, hiding them as they rode into the dunes.

  Gone were the days when they could spy on the army at will. Soldiers now regularly patrolled the cliffs with their feli. The Tigus still snuck up to the ridge to assess the camp, but they were far more wary and could not stay long. It was now a longer ride to their main camp to report to the elders and warriors of the One.

  Abram felt self-­conscious as he farspoke with his cousin. Kadar had interrupted Master Tull’s meeting with her commanders and all eyes were upon Abram as he relayed the information from the Tigu elders.

  We have located the geased fighters in the camp. We wish to know when we should attack their controllers to release the spell, Kadar sent to Abram.

  Abram waited for Master Tull’s response to the elder’s request, and then relayed it to Kadar.

  Our commanders believe the army will move to the waystation south of Illian to await the Voices of the deities, Abram sent. We wish you to attack the army and free the Forsaken once the troops reach the waystation.

  Master Tull paced while they waited for the elder’s reaction. Master Gursh drummed his fingernails on the table. They knew this would put the Tigus in greater danger. The Tigus’ desert magic would not conceal them as readily outside of the Sands. If the Tigus refused, the masters would have to send most of the warriors of the One north, at a time when they needed to be southbound, preparing for the weather working and battle.

  Why not free the slaves earlier, before they leave here? Kadar sent after a moment.

  If the Forsaken are released too far into the desert, they will not revolt because they’ll fear dying in the desert. If they are closer to home, we expect them to run away from the camp and toward their former homes. Abram relayed Master Tull’s answer.

  A tense moment, then Abram was able to announce, “The Tigus agree. They will travel ahead to the waystation and free the Forsaken there!”

  The commanders sighed with relief, and Master Tull produced one of her rare smiles and sat down.

  Have you heard anything from Tsangia? Kadar sent, hesitantly. I was wondering how Datura was doing.

  Sorry, Kadar, Abram said, sympathetically. All the farspeakers are here, and no caravans are running so we haven’t gotten mail.

  I’m not surprised. Blessings, Abram, I must go see what the elders want.

  Keep safe, Kadar, Abram sent before he cut their connection.

  The other commanders began to file out of the office, but Master Tull held up a hand to stop them.

  “The army is on the move. It is time for Ursa, Bento, and I to leave for the northern desert oases in their path. We will take a cohort, who will then meet the Tigus at the waystation to render any aid necessary. Gursh and Sandiv will take charge here. Tell your warriors that we go to protect the cities in the path of Voras’s army. We will stop by and personally speak to each of you before we leave.”

  This sobered the group, and they filed out silently, leaving just Masters Tull and Ursa.

  “Why don’t you and Casia take a break?” Master Tull said to Abram.

  Casia brightened, but Abram knew why they were dismissed. Casia still did not know how the masters would reset the waymarkers. The masters wanted to talk without her learning the plan.

  As they walked toward the meal hall, Casia bumped his shoulder. “You look like you bit a lemon,” she said. “Did breakfast disagree with you?”

  “Actually, yes,” Abram said, stopping and looking back. “I’m not feeling well. You go ahead. I’m going to duck back into the office to let the masters know, then sleep it off.”

  Abram rushed back to the office, and both masters looked at him. For a moment he couldn’t say anything and his eyes filled with tears.

  “Abram . . .” Master Tull began, her tone exasperated.

  Abram interrupted her. “I wanted to let you know it’s been an honor to serve under you,” he told her. “Both of you. My children and their children will sing songs of your bravery and generosity. You will not be forgotten.”

  He touched the back of his hand to his forehead, then bowed himself out of the room, unwilling to see their faces. He dashed tears out of his eyes and went to find a quiet corner in which to grieve.

  The Sepacu tribe was not among the tribes the elders sent ahead to scout out the lands around the waystation. The Sepacus would scout and report what the army’s movements were, shadowing the troops as they organized their march. Even the elders packed their camp to move.

  “You are to go with the elders while we track the troops,” Onyeka said, sitting down at late meal beside him. “We will send a rider if they do anything unusual, but your place is with the tribes as they prepare to liberate the Forsaken.”

  Kadar glanced over at her. “And I suppose you’ll be here, having all the fun playing with the army while the rest of us work,” he joked, trying to hide his regret at being parted from her.

  “It’s too bad you’ll have to sleep on a rock-­hard mat, with just a cat for company,” Onyeka teased.

  “Ha, that’s what you think,” Kadar said. “I grabbed one of the softer mats before Desial could send it to the city on the pack horses. And I’ll be able to keep it all to myself rather than being pushed off in the middle of the night when some warrior has bad dreams.”

  She opened her mouth, but looked around as her name was called. “One more night before the elders move, and they are being needy.” She sighed, getting up.

  “That means I have a night to make certain you don’t forget me when I ride off,” Kadar said.

  Onyeka shot him a smoldering look. “I look forward to your efforts.”

  In the morning, Onyeka helped him pack his humpback as he tied Asfar in line behind the beast. They were silent as the rest of the camp shouted and cursed, packing the last of the tents onto some of the supply humpbacks. Most of the horses were staying on the front, closest to the army for faster battles and nearer the sources of water the Tigus could sense. Humpbacks were better pack animals for the region they would be traveling, which had fewer water sources. Asfar was useless for other riders, permitting only Kadar on her back, so he would lead her. She would be useful if he needed to make quick scouting trips closer to the waystation.

  Kadar’s humpback knelt and he turned to Onyeka, wanting to say many things, but resisting an emotional farewell that would make her uncomfortable.

  Her face was solemn. “Go, warrior, protected by the One. If we do not meet again in this life, we will meet in the embrace of the One.” She intoned the formal blessing spoken by parting Tigus.

  Kadar grabbed her shoulders and pulled her in. She melted into his passionate kiss, giving as much as he gave. They pulled away to the appreciative hoots of the other warriors. She gave him a quick hug.

  “I will miss you sorely,” she whispered into his ear and then pushed him away and walked off.

  “And I, you,” Kadar whispered to her back, as she dodged a humpback and disappeared into the chaos of a camp being packed. He mounted the humpback and prepared to ride.

  “I told you my daughter would break your heart,” Turo said, riding up beside him.

  “You told me we should get together, make babies,” Kadar said, mock-­frowning at him. “There was no mention of broken hearts.”

  Turo shrugged. “Perhaps I forgot to mention her indepe
ndent nature?” he mused. “You will never tame that wild heart of hers. Ah well, she likes you very much—­that is something.”

  “Why are you traveling with us and not staying with the Sepacu tribe?” Kadar asked.

  “Too slow, too old.” His voice sounded mournful, but Kadar thought he looked pleased. “They are assigning me to the elders. I will be their messenger.”

  No wonder he looked pleased. Being assigned to the elders meant he was a revered warrior, apprenticed to them. He would join their counsels soon, once they were certain he’d learned their laws.

  They rode for three days, traveling far south of the road that marked the line between the Northern and Southern Territories. They stopped only once, at a watering hole so the humpbacks could drink and rest. Kadar filled the large skins of water tied to each side of his humpback for Asfar to drink on the days they did not find water.

  They reached an encampment of the Duradin tribe on the fourth day and the elders took it over, setting up their large command tent and widening the basin their spring fed into. The summer was cooler now, not the intense blasting heat of midsummer.

  “We are about a day’s ride south of the final waystation of the Northern Territory,” Turo said. “It is where our spies say the deities will ride to join the greater army.”

  The elders summoned Kadar that evening. Amber demanded that she be picked up, so he arrived with his suncat perched on his shoulder.

  “The troops should be here in less than a ten-­day,” Elder Turin told Kadar. “We will slip some warriors in to kill the Knights holding the Forsaken captive after the army arrives, but before the Voices of the deities come. We would like you to contact the warriors of the One so we can discuss strategy with them.”

  Kadar made contact with Abram, who spoke with his leaders. It was strange being the go-­between as the two groups discussed numbers and tactics. But in the end, they’d decided upon a plan.

  “Almost half of Voras’s army is geased,” Turin concluded. “If our assassins can free even a quarter of those Forsaken troops, the Tigus and warriors of the One will be better matched to the army in numbers. We will have a better chance of winnowing down the army as they march across the desert.”

  Jesah nodded. “We will ask the tribes to send their most skilled fighters to assassinate the Knights.”

  “But how do we know the deities won’t simply turn and return to Illian if their army’s numbers are decimated?” one of the elders asked.

  “The warriors of the One believe they are too invested at this point,” Kadar said, relaying the message. “To turn back would be to lose the war and the deities’ chance at regaining what they lost. The warriors of the One believe the deities will push on to get to the temple and regain their power. If that happens, they will be able to take energy from any human, not just their acolytes.”

  “What happens if the deities do push through and the Chosen cannot contain them?” someone asked. “What if they regain their full powers?”

  “It is not for us to question,” Turin said. “We are warriors and we will fight!”

  The other elders nodded and rose, the meeting breaking up.

  CHAPTER 14

  The Chosen met at the temple again a few days later to empty another deity statue. Sanuri chose Aryn’s statue as the next focus. Ava communed with Clay, in the statue of Parasu, before starting her mandala, and what he told her made her eyes shine with pleasure.

  “You were right,” Amon whispered to Sulis and Ashraf. “Having Clay still here stabilizes her, gives her confidence.”

  Master Anchee and Lasha clasped hands while they watched Ava chalk this mandala. Sulis could feel the energy exchange between them. It had taken a ­couple of practice sessions after Sulis’s rebuke for Master Anchee to start treating Lasha like an equal, but she could feel the energy link between the two. Lasha and Anchee working together was much better energy for the entire group.

  Aryn’s mandala had different energy than Parasu’s. Sulis closed her eyes, feeling Aryn’s higher chakra energy. Ava once again slashed her hand and created a blood line on the outside, linking Aryn, the One, and Sanuri.

  Ava wasn’t as exhausted this time, and Sulis hoped that would be true of all of them.

  The dance was less physically taxing than Parasu’s had been, focusing on intuition and creativity. The amount of energy raised was the same—­the air inside the mandala was thick and hard to breathe—­but Sulis was less exhausted at the end. As she watched Sanuri weave Aryn’s energy and the One’s energy together, she hoped Master Anchee felt the same.

  Alannah spoke the words of power, and Sulis drew back from feeling the energy, not wanting to be drawn into the One along with Aryn, as she’d almost been last time.

  A clap of energy, and everything was still. This time, as Sulis climbed to her feet, she saw the chalk lines were gone. Lasha was by Master Anchee’s side in an instant, but he did not need her assistance to rise. They stayed far away from the now-­empty statue.

  They stood around Aryn’s statue, staring at it.

  “I can feel it,” Grandmother said. “I can feel the trap inside, calling to me.”

  “A seductive prison,” Amon said. “Hopefully it will call the deity it was built for even more strongly, so the call cannot be resisted. I will have Sari cordon the statue off, so we cannot accidentally be trapped. You must go rest. I would like to do both Ivanha’s and Voras’s ceremony together, if Sanuri is willing.”

  She giggled, which Sulis took for a yes.

  “We need to practice containing more than one energy source, and Sanuri needs to practice weaving three energies together,” Amon said. “We will need to weave all four at once to the One when we have the full essence of the deities trapped here. Shuttles—­practice drawing energy every day with your Guardian.”

  He glanced around Sulis, grimaced, and turned away. Sulis looked back to see Ava standing with her hands against Parasu’s statue, speaking with Clay.

  “Convincing Ava to let Clay go may be our hardest task,” Alannah said.

  “We can release Voras and Ivanha before it becomes urgent to send Clay on,” Sulis said grimly. “We should go eat.”

  They practiced several days at the Obsidian Temple. Ava ate her meals with the Chosen, though she still insisted on staying with Clay overnight and most of her waking hours.

  “He’s closing off,” she told Sulis unhappily at midmeal.

  “What do you mean?” Sulis asked.

  “He says it’s too hard stay in the present without a body. So his mind drifts away and he can’t draw it back to talk with me.”

  Alannah shook her head. “This is a half state for him, neither in a living body nor returned to the One. It is painful for him.”

  Ava ducked her head and focused on her food, her face set. They finished eating and cleaned their plates. Alannah, Lasha, and Sulis turned to walk to the dorms, and Ava paused.

  “He shouldn’t have to die,” she said. “It isn’t fair. We have lots of magic. We need to find a way to get him a new body.”

  “Ava, it isn’t possible,” Sulis said. “We can’t bring the dead back.”

  “You just won’t try,” Ava cried, and she ran to the Obsidian Temple.

  That evening Sulis left Ashraf and her friends talking in the dormitories and crept into the Obsidian Temple. The orb in the Altar of the One softly illuminated the darkness. It had been glowing since they’d begun filtering energy through it. It illuminated Ava, hunched against Parasu’s statue, head on her knees with her arms wrapped over her head. Sulis sighed, looking at the sad figure. She walked over and sat beside Ava, leaning against the statue. She put her arm around Ava, who didn’t move.

  “It isn’t fair, is it?” Sulis said. “I lost my parents when I was a little younger than you and I remember how it felt.”

  Ava raised her head. “Don’t tell me
everything will be fine and that I’ll get over him. I won’t. I’ve never forgotten my mother and father, my sister. I’ll never forget them.”

  “I’ve never forgotten my mother and father either,” Sulis said. “It simply hurts less with time. You think about it less.”

  “I don’t want to think about it less,” Ava sobbed. “I don’t want to forget anything. That’s like betraying them, to forget anything about them. Not feeling the pain of their death is like erasing them.”

  “I’ve thought that, too,” Sulis said. “But we can’t live with such grief every day. It destroys us. And I know the ones who left me loved me and wanted happiness for me, more than anything else. Do you think your parents, Farrah, and Clay want you to be happy? That they loved you?”

  Ava nodded.

  “And are you happy holding on like this, causing yourself pain by feeling them die over and over? Is that what they would want for you?”

  Ava shook her head, gulping air. “Farrah would swat me upside the head and say, ‘Momma didn’t raise an idiot—­stop moping about. Go live your life.’ ”

  Sulis smiled. “I can hear her saying that. She wanted to create a better life for all the ­people of the North. She would hate for you to have a worse life, because of her death.”

  Ava nodded, her tears drying on her cheeks. She looked over and rested her shoulder against Sulis’s.

  “Do you think it hurts, dying?” she asked. “It scares me, thinking that it’ll hurt and then nothingness will take over. That I’ll be in darkness, forever.”

  No, Clay said in their minds. Sulis had felt him listening, but this was the first he’d spoken. It isn’t like that. It is a union.

  Ava shook her head. “I don’t understand what that means,” she said.

  The warmth of Clay’s love washed over them. My dear girl, it is like the biggest, best family gathering ever, he said. Like rejoining someone you adore after a long absence. But even greater. We humans are always looking for something to complete us. We study, work, play—­always knowing that something is missing in our lives. It’s only when we return to the One that we find true completion, true love.