The World Weavers

by Kelley Grant

  As the words of power spilled over Sulis, she became aware of Amon motioning to her.

  “Get up,” he insisted. Dully, Sulis obeyed, carefully stepping outside the mandala at his urging. Ashraf staggered up to her and put his arms around her. Nothing had ever felt as good as his body against hers.

  “Get out,” Amon snapped, pushing both of them toward the door. “Take your beloved and go. Leave the temple before everything collapses. Get everyone out.”

  Sulis realized that the crowd was fleeing the temple. The wild feli were already gone. Djinn nudged Nuisance and they wormed their way through the crowds, following. Sulis looked around for Kadar and stumbled on leaden legs to him. He and a tall Tigu woman had Grandmother’s arm, urging her away from Palou’s body. Ashraf took Grandmother’s other arm and he and Kadar pulled her to the entrance. Sulis helped Lasha and Dani support Anchee, who looked fifty years older.

  Alannah spoke the final words of the ritual. The One’s orb shone so brightly the entire temple was illuminated. Sulis squinted as she looked back and watched Amon shove Alannah away from the orb and raise his hands, stepping into the mandala, into the maelstrom of woven energy. Alannah sprinted toward them as Amon uttered three words that Sulis had never before heard.

  The universe shook. They staggered and fell. Then Alannah was with them. She was urging Jonas forward in front of her, urging all of them forward as the earth shook and groaned. Wind howled through the temple as the walls cracked around them. They dove through the doorway and pushed farther on into the courtyard, into the mass of screaming ­people. The ground shook so hard they could no longer walk forward. The sides of the chasm collapsed and they could hear ­people who had gotten too close screaming as the rocks smashed into the dormitories and food hall.

  Sulis looked back to the Obsidian Temple. The temple walls had cracked, the roof was collapsing in. A geyser of water shot out of the top of the building before being cut off by the collapse of the side walls. A crack in the earth opened under the temple and half of it collapsed into the hole.

  “Sanuri!” Ava screamed. Sulis realized the girl had not come out of the building with them.

  “Amon is in the destruction, too. We must go back,” Sulis gasped, but Alannah shook her head.

  “Sanuri is woven back with the One,” she said. “And Amon knew he would be destroyed with the temple. It was his role, his sacrifice as a Descendant. They are gone.”

  “So this is it?” Sulis said. “I don’t feel any different. Did it happen? Did we succeed or was this all for nothing? I thought I’d know.”

  The earth stilled. Sulis ducked her head down into her hands as heavy dust fell on them from the air above the chasm. She tried not to choke on it as more and more came, burying them. Finally it stopped raining dirt and she pulled herself up. What remained of the chasm was piled with fine silt and the survivors were shrugging it off, standing, and looking around. The last rays of sunlight filtered through the silt in the air, able to enter the chasm because of the collapsed sides. Sulis looked around for Djinn and found him shaking himself off a few feet away beside Yaslin, who was now more brown than white. Sulis helped Jonas and Alannah stand, brushing them off. Kadar was dusting Grandmother off and Sulis stepped forward to help.

  Sulis was distracted from her grief by Alannah’s hand on her elbow.

  “Do you feel it?” Alannah asked. She was caked with dirt from head to toe, but a smile wreathed her face. “Look at the energy. Do you feel it?”

  Sulis closed her eyes and extended her senses. The air around her seemed to radiate. A beautiful light glowed where many different strands of energy had been before. It pulsed with a welcoming light.

  “We did it, Sulis,” Alannah said, her face ecstatic. “The deities are no longer separate. The One is whole once again!”

  Beside Alannah, Jonas dropped to his knees and wept. His feli bumped his head on Jonas’s shoulder, and Jonas turned and cried into the feline’s fur.

  “We need to find some torches and get them lighted,” Sari called to the survivors. “Night is coming quickly and we need to tend to the wounded.”

  Abram sighed as he set his pack down by the oasis. It had been a long, hard trek to get here and he wanted to cry with relief. Dusk was falling, but tonight they would have water and a safe place to rest.

  “Do not get comfortable,” Turo warned. “Something is happening down in the valley of the One.”

  “At the Obsidian Temple?” Master Yaoni asked. “The weaving has begun, then. Are we too late to help our companions?”

  Master Yaoni, master of the archives at Kabandha, had been the only master still alive when the sandstorm had worn itself out—­he did not work with energy. He’d had to make the difficult decision to leave the warriors where they’d died and press on to the greater oasis by the Obsidian Temple. They did not know the fate of the healers and the advanced cohort.

  The Tigu’s water sense had saved them. The desert was unrecognizable—­pathways and markers had been obliterated by the storm. But the Tigus knew where to find the water and led them here.

  A Tigu woman looked up at the mountains and pointed. They were trembling, as though a giant hand were shaking them. Turo backed away, still looking at the water of the oasis. It had begun to rise.

  “The water is coming,” Turo said. “We need to run.”

  They ran back the way they had just traveled. The ground began to shake under them, and Abram stumbled and fell several times. A glance behind showed the water flooding toward him, so he staggered on. They neared the waymarker to the Obsidian Temple and halted. The sides of the gorge were collapsing in—­the path down had been sheared away.

  “Get down,” Master Yaoni said. They huddled together beside large boulders as dirt rained down and the world seemed to shake and collapse around them. Night fell and they still huddled, listening in darkness to water that should not exist, and wondering what would be left when the sun rose again.

  The Temple at Illian was in chaos. The acolytes had felt the weaving, had felt their deities dissolve. Tori wasn’t certain if they thought their deities had died or if they knew they’d been woven back into the One. Tori could hear running footsteps as acolytes fled their altars, and feli now guarded the doorways to the Temple of the One as the Counselors tended their wounded.

  Tori flinched as Elida put a hand on the knife wound in her side, making the pain flare before it subsided. Elida sighed tiredly and released the energy, healing the wound.

  “That will stop it from bleeding more and start the healing,” she told Tori. “But I am too weary to heal it the rest of the way.”

  “You’d think the One would reward us with energy for making her whole again,” Tori said, looking over at the altar, which pulsed with light. “Instead of making us struggle.”

  “The One is probably as shocked by this as we are,” Elida said. “She will have to adjust to this newness of being before she can reach out to help us mortals once again. I don’t know how long we will be without her guidance, but we must make do with what we have.”

  “You are wounded!” Aaron said from the doorway to the Temple.

  Tori blinked and realized half the faces in the Temple were now Southerners. More hours had passed than Tori had realized. She’d heard scuffles in the street of guards against Forsaken, but she’d been focused on defending Counselors against fleeing acolytes from altars of the deities. The Forsaken army must have pushed through Voras’s soldiers and made it to the Temple. Aaron was standing beside her and she hadn’t seen him walk in. She was more tired than she realized.

  Tori made a face at Aaron. “The Mother Superior slipped past the guarding feli and got me,” she told him. “It became messy when the soldiers of Voras realized we were blocking them from saving their deities and came rushing to the Temple.”

  “They were overpowering us until that point. We were fast on their heel
s,” Aaron said, “But obviously not fast enough.”

  Tori shrugged. “The war was already over at that point,” she said. “We’d blocked the deities. We lost only a few Counselors in the attacks that followed.”

  Aaron frowned. “We encountered acolytes fleeing the Temple and we let them go,” he said. “If I had known they’d fought you, we would have detained them. All the altars of the deities are stripped of anything of value and have been abandoned.”

  Elida stood. “We know. We watched them leave. I hope they’ll simply disperse into the city and try to live normal lives,” she said.

  “I hope,” Tori said with a sigh, but she realized it probably wouldn’t be that easy. Tori had felt the weaving and knew the deities were gone—­but doubted anyone in the Northern Territory would be willing to accept it. The lives of the common ­people in the North were based on worshipping the four deities. They would look to anyone who could tell them how to live their lives now. Tori could only hope that good, moral leaders would arise out of that confusion.

  “What happened in the streets of Illian?” she asked.

  “The viceroy and his heir are dead,” Aaron said. “They rode against us and fell when the soldiers abandoned them and the city guard to race back to the Temple. Have you heard anything from Kadar or Sulis in the desert? I still feel the link with my mother, but I don’t know if the rest of my family survived.”

  Tori shook her head. “I can’t even communicate with other farspeakers in Illian. The intense energy pull of the weaving and the collapse of the energy of the deities has created such interference we may not be able to communicate that far for weeks.”

  “Who is left to lead the city?” Elida asked sharply.

  Aaron bowed to her slightly.

  “You are,” he said simply. “They will need strong guidance. That is why we came here. The sun is beginning to rise. There are ­people panicking in the street, waking up and realizing something is wrong. I’ve got my men keeping them away, but they think the Southern Territory has invaded. The towns­people are beginning to mob the Temple. We need someone to speak to them, calm them. ­People trust you. Be their voice, now.”

  Tori grinned as denial turned to resignation on Elida’s face.

  “What are you grinning at?” she snapped. “I’m designating you my second in command until Alannah comes back. Come on, we need to address our ­people.”

  Now it was Tori’s turn to feel chagrin as she tiredly followed in Elida’s wake. A hand supported her elbow and she realized that Aaron was parting the crowd around her. She mouthed her thanks.

  “It is time for the Northern and Southern Territories to become reunited,” he said.

  Tori fervently hoped that such peace was ahead for their world but feared it would be a long, difficult recovery. She held her head high as she and Elida stepped out to face their ­people.

  CHAPTER 23

  Sulis lifted a sack of flour from the pantry they’d dug out of the rubble and handed it to Ashraf, who handed it to the next person down the line. They’d been able to dig out the collapsed structure of the kitchen and meal hall and were lifting out the supplies to see what was still usable.

  “Sari sent us as relief. She says to take a break,” a man said, and Sulis saluted him and winced as she stood, her back hurting from bending and lifting so long.

  Ashraf put an arm around her waist as they walked to the cleared area where food was set up. It was the second morning after the weaving and the sun shone brightly down on them. Sulis looked around at the rockslides that now made up the sides of the chasm. The chasm was more open and the sides were no longer sheer cliffs. Instead it was rock, sharp fields of rock that jutted and sloped upward over many lengths. Sulis sighed.

  “Are you well?” Ashraf asked.

  “Yes, but I don’t know how we will ever escape this pit,” she said.

  “Sari is sending out ­people to explore possible routes,” Ashraf reminded her. “We’ll be on that duty this afternoon. We have food enough to last us for at least a ten-­day and a raging river is coming out of the chasm. I am certain ­people at the oasis will come look for us.”

  “Did anyone survive?” Sulis asked, despairing. “Only a handful survived down here. And if they did survive—­can they come for us? We should be able to see mountains above us, Ashraf. But I see only sky. Our farspeakers can’t find anyone. What has happened to our world?”

  Ashraf stopped and took her into his arms. “Our ­people are still alive, Sulis. The farspeakers can’t talk to each other because of the energy disturbance. You know what the healer said—­this despair is from being drained so deeply of your energy. I have to believe my family is still alive, as we are.”

  Sulis wiped her eyes. “I hate this,” she said. “I’m not used to feeling so old and sad.”

  “It has aged us, yes,” Ashraf said as he pulled her forward. “But you are not old yet, love.”

  Sulis had to agree as they came upon Master Anchee, who was being aided by Lasha. He and Grandmother had both been aged terribly by the energy drain. Master Anchee had gone from being a vibrant, active older man to a palsied ancient in the space of an evening. The healer said he’d recover somewhat, but would never be the same healthy man he had been before. Grandmother had recovered better, but grief and exhaustion had made her frail. She did not protest when the healer told her and Master Anchee to rest rather than help with the cleanup.

  Kadar was still tending the smoker he and Onyeka had created. The stables had been too close to the side walls of the chasm. All their beasts had been killed and Kadar had been determined to recover as much meat as he could and preserve it. He’d been thrilled that one of the first things they’d discovered in the kitchen was a barrel of salt he could use to preserve the meat they needed to survive. Sulis couldn’t help checking inside her mind for him—­but their twin bond was gone, probably forever.

  Sulis glanced around the chasm. The healer had set up a space for the wounded in the shade of a fallen boulder. A dozen new wounded had been injured by falling rocks or had sprained backs and ankles over the past day. There were some ­people resting in makeshift tents and others busily tallying supplies. In all, about forty-­three ­people had survived the weaving and the collapse after. They had numbered over a hundred before. Sulis had lighted a candle for Palou, Sanuri, and Amon at their mourning ceremony last night.

  “Sulis!” Ava called and ran to hug her. “Midmeal is served by the rockslide, where it isn’t so hot,” she said, and she led the way.

  Ava and Dani were the only ones among the Chosen who weren’t depleted and depressed. Dani was directing the group’s scouting efforts, and Ava had taken over meal planning. Grandmother was sitting on a rock beside the cook fire, absently petting Djinn’s head. Djinn’s eyes were half-­lidded with pleasure.

  “I’m going to apprentice with Grandmother once we get out of here,” Ava said as she spooned stew into dented metal bowls. “She says I don’t have to return to the North if I don’t want to.”

  “I think she has earned a spot as my apprentice,” Grandmother said, giving Sulis a weary smile. “I could use a helper when we return to Shpeth.”

  Sulis smiled to hear her grandmother make plans for the future. When they’d dug her out, she had whispered that they should have let her die with Palou. Yesterday Sulis had worried she would will herself to sleep and never wake up. Today her energy was returning, and she had more sparkle in her eyes.

  “I’ll help you and Sulis,” Ava said, making motions for them to eat. They sat on the ground beside Grandmother. “You are coming to Shpeth with us, aren’t you, Sulis?”

  Grandmother looked at Sulis, who couldn’t tell if her grandmother’s expression was hopeful or dismissive. Sulis and Ashraf had already spoken about this, talked about what their future would hold.

  “I will,” Sulis told Ava. “But first, we have to look for A
shraf’s family in Frubia. Once he is certain they are safe and we have a bonding ceremony with them, we will return to Shpeth for good and think about a family.”

  “And an empire,” Ashraf murmured in her ear.

  Ava cheered, and a smile pulled around Grandmother’s lips.

  Sulis addressed Grandmother directly. “I’m not certain I can ever follow in your footsteps and be the leader you have been, but I’m willing to try. I’d like to apprentice to you as well, Grandmother.”

  Grandmother ducked her head as her eyes filled with tears, and Sulis hugged her.

  “I’m only a silly old woman,” Grandmother said, waving her off. “But my grandchildren have made me prouder than any woman has the right to be.”

  “Kadar isn’t coming back to Shpeth,” Sulis told her. “He plans on settling Datura and himself in Antajale, if it still remains.”

  “I know,” Grandmother said. “I knew when he went to the Tigus, his heart would stay with them.”

  “He is torn right now between making certain Datura is okay and going with Onyeka to see what happened to the Tigu city of Antajale and her tribe,” Ashraf said.

  Grandmother nodded. “Kadar worries about his daughter. I believe Tsangia is far enough away from this center of destruction that Datura is safe. Hopefully the energy will settle and we will be able to find ­people in the surrounding areas to tell us what happened outside this chasm.”

  “Sulis, Ashraf—­just the ­people I was looking for,” Dani called, and Sulis looked over to find him striding toward them, Lasha in tow.

  “I think we’ve found a path up,” he said. “It’s not an easy route. We won’t know if the way is passible unless we take a party out that can hike a ­couple days. The wild feli keep darting up that way, so I think it leads somewhere. I’m getting the more able-­bodied to go. Alannah is staying here with Jonas, who isn’t up to travel, but Kadar and Onyeka are coming, and I’d like you and Ashraf to come as well, if you’re game.”