Desert Rising (20 page)

Sulis squeezed her arm in silent comradeship but then ducked back as an acolyte dashed past them into the room. Breathing hard, he ran toward the group of elders.

“The stables are on fire,” he gasped, barely able to get the words out. “We need help!”

Everyone seemed to freeze as conversations stopped, and all eyes turned to the elders.

The Herald snapped into action. “Cantor, alert the Counselor. Ranger, come along.” She lifted her voice. “We need as many able-­bodied ­people as possible for the fire brigade.”

The Herald and Ranger rushed out the door. Sulis, Lasha, and many other acolytes followed as the crowd of pilgrims parted for them in the hallway. Once they reached the main road, the elders dropped their dignity and ran, their
feli
leading the way, at a ground-­eating pace that Sulis kept up with but that left Lasha and most of the other acolytes behind.

The scene at the stables was chaotic. Smoke poured out of the building, and horses were screaming, their hooves pounding against their wooden stalls. ­People milled in confusion, unwilling to risk themselves or unable to figure out what to do. Severin, dressed in a leather training tunic, was forming his weapons group into a brigade leading to the well, but he needed more ­people and was unable to stir the bystanders into action. Aggie appeared out of the smoke rolling from the stables leading a blindfolded mare. She stripped the mare of her blindfold and dropped the lead line into a watcher's hands before disappearing back into the smoke.

The Herald barked orders at the bystanders, getting them into the line Severin had formed. Sulis grabbed a scarf off a watching woman, dipped it in water and tied it around her nose and mouth. She snatched a long tack cloth and plunged in after Aggie.

Her eyes began watering immediately as the acrid smoke wafted around her head. She followed the screams of the horse and ducked as someone led one past her at a run. She reached a padlock and threw the bolt back.

She ran inside and ducked as the frightened horse reared and struck at her head. She grabbed at its halter and put her full weight on it, bringing the horse down. Its eyes rolled in panic, the whites showing. Securing the tack cloth around the horse's head, she tried to lead it out.

It planted its hooves, and she murmured comfortingly. The dumb beast saw its stall as a safe haven against the fire, not realizing it would be burned to death if it stayed, and Sulis could not get it to budge, even with the blindfold on. Sulis wished for once she had Kadar's talent with these creatures as she pulled at the halter of the panicked horse. He could get even the most stubborn animal through high water, and now she envied that ability.

Then he was behind her, as though wishing had magically brought him. “Let me,” he said, and she moved aside as he murmured to the horse a moment. It gentled, letting Sulis lead it into the open, as Kadar ducked into the next stall.

Sulis let the horse drag her to the open door and fresh air, then released it, letting it run into the crowd. She turned and ran back after her brother.

She could barely see him talking to another horse that Aggie was pulling. She grabbed his arm.

“I'm opening the doors to the stalls. Get them in the hall, and we can herd them out,” she screamed to be heard above the horses, her throat raw from the smoke.

She ran down the hall, throwing back the stall doors until the heat seared her skin. Some of the horses ran out on their own, wild with fear of the flames. Most stayed in what they considered safety, striking out with their hooves as she attempted to move them.

The smoke filled the space around them, and Sulis was breathing in gasps as she came on her brother in the main part of the barn. The horses were mingling, uncertain which way to go, with the smoke surrounding them.

Djinn appeared at Sulis's side, grasping her wrist in his mouth, trying to get her to go to safety. She grabbed her brother's shoulder, and he turned to her blindly, coughing.

“I'll have Djinn scare them,” she yelled. “You lead them, show them the way out.”

She cleared her mind, reaching out for Djinn. Djinn ran behind the horses and growled.

The horses flung their heads up, staring wide-­eyed at the cat. Kadar grabbed the lead line of one of the horses and tugged it forward, toward the entrance. Caught between smoke and a wild cat, they weren't certain whether to balk or follow Kadar until Djinn arched his back and charged at them, hissing and squalling. Kadar's horse yanked the lead line out of his hands and ran through the smoke to safety, and the others followed, herd instinct taking over.

Sulis tugged at her brother's arm, and they stumbled toward the opening. A horse screamed behind him as flames reached his stall—­one of the horses Sulis had been unable to reach because of the heat. Kadar stopped and began blundering back, feeling the animal's pain and unable to leave it.

“No!” Sulis whispered, losing sight of her brother in the smoke. A hand pulled at her arm, and Aggie was there, yelling in her ear.

“Leave them! It's too dangerous.”

“Kadar!” Sulis yelled, and wrenched her arm out of Aggie's grip, going after her brother.

There was a loud cracking noise, and the air was filled with cinders and dust and smoke. A beam had fallen down, and the ceiling partially collapsed, giving a breath of fresher air and light for Sulis to see by.

Her brother was lying under the beam and the roofing material. She ran over and knelt beside him, seeing that the beam was lying diagonally across his leg and chest.

“No,” Sulis muttered as she tried to lift the beam. “No, no!”

Aggie knelt beside her. As Sulis watched, Aggie's face became serene. She reached out and put her hands under the heavy beam. Her hands glowed in the smoky dust, and the beam lifted easily.

“Pull him out,” she told Sulis calmly, as though she were making no effort. Sulis pulled her brother from beneath the rubble.

When he was clear, the beam crashed back down. Sulis grabbed Kadar under his arms and Aggie under his legs, and together they carried him out of the flaming barn.

They set him down in the clear air and bright sunlight.

“Healer!” Aggie screamed. Then she took one step away from Kadar's body and collapsed, an onlooker catching her before she could hit her head on the ground.

Sulis coughed and pulled the scarf from her face to breathe in the cooler air. She knelt beside her brother. His leg was at a strange angle, and there was blood trickling out the side of his mouth.

“Kadar,” she whispered, her voice hoarse. “Don't you dare.”

Kadar opened his eyes. He coughed, and blood splattered her gray robe.

“Hurts,” he whispered. He breathed out. His chest went still.

She felt his soul starting to move away from his body, the soul that was twin to her own. She didn't need a trance to feel the separation. “No,” she said firmly, and captured him, pushing him back to his damaged body.

His soul struggled, and she held firmly, like she would a restless stallion. She felt others come up beside her and ignored them, keeping a firm hold on her brother, forcing him not to leave her and his broken body behind. But she was tiring and could feel her strength, already taxed by rescuing the horses, pouring out of her.

“That's it, hold him,” someone said, and hands appeared on Kadar's body—­hands shining so brightly that they seemed made of white light rather than skin and bones.

And, still, Kadar's being struggled against hers, wanting to leave. All she could see was the blinding light of those hands and Kadar trapped in her net, trying to leave her.

“No!” she said again. “Help me.”

“Sulis.” Lasha's voice was beside her, and her hands went on Sulis's shoulders. Something opened, a source of energy, and she let it fuel the net on Kadar. A warm flow of energy smoothly joined the first, and she recognized it as Alannah, who smoothed the edges of their bond. Djinn leaned against her, and she drew energy from him as well.

Kadar's body seemed to glow now, like the hands that hovered over it. He stopped struggling against her, settling back into his body, but she still held the net above him, making sure he couldn't go on without her.

The glow on Kadar's body died, but, still, Sulis held the net, daring Kadar to try to get past her.

“Sulis, stop now.” The voice was insistent. “Sulis, release the others. He's not going to die.”

She didn't want to let go, afraid if she did he would escape. She felt a sharp shock to her physical body that jolted her. Another shock broke her trance, and she came abruptly to herself.

She was kneeling beside a breathing Kadar, surrounded by a circle of onlookers. Acolytes in green and blue held the onlookers at a distance. The Herald was sitting wearily on the ground on the other side of Kadar, and Sulis realized her hands must have been the glowing ones. She saw Alannah and Lasha lying on the ground behind her, tended by two green cloaks. Counselor Elida knelt beside her, her hand raised as though for another blow. Sulis looked at her blankly.

“You didn't have to hit me,” she rasped accusingly, and tried to stand. The world spun, and she struggled to catch her breath. Hands closed around her gently as her world turned black.

 

Chapter 12

K
ADAR C
OULD HEAR
voices around him, snippets permeating the warm cocoon he lay in.

“Healed as much as the Herald could,” he heard.

“Past death, but his twin held him back.”

“Leg broken but set . . . ribs cracked but somewhat healed . . . Aryn healed his punctured lungs.”

He felt a sharp pain in his leg as he was moved, and he could feel hands on him, but he couldn't seem to tell them to stop.

His aunt's voice; his uncle, Tarik. He could hear them. But they were far away from where he was.

“We aren't sure. He should be awake; his brain is fine. This has never happened before. Perhaps his soul needs to heal from being separated from his body.”

He heard an argument. Someone wanted him to stay. Kadar didn't want to stay; he wanted to go home to the desert. He wanted to tell them but didn't know how. He was lost in the warm darkness. Something was missing, and he didn't know where to find it.

His aunt sounded insistent. He felt pain as his body was jolted, traveling somewhere. He was set on a bed, covers tucked in. It smelled like his room at the house.

He heard Farrah's voice. “Ava made it. She's safe with your grandma,” she told him, her voice muffled. “I miss her so much. Won't you wake up? Kadar, wake up. I need you.”

Kadar needed to come back to Farrah, to comfort her. But he was lost and didn't know where she could find him.

S
ULIS WOKE AND
looked around her. Her vision was cloudy, and she blinked a ­couple of times to clear it. Though her bed was curtained off, the sounds told her she was in the healing hall.

She tried to sit up and was astonished when she couldn't. Djinn heard her and poked his nose out from under the bed. He bumped his head on her hand and purred loudly. A dark-­haired woman peered around the curtains, alerted by Djinn's movement.

“Awake then, are you?” she said conversationally. “How are you feeling?”

Sulis tried to speak, and nothing came out. The woman picked up a glass sitting beside the bed and raised Sulis's head so she could drink.

“Better?” she asked.

Sulis's voice was raspy, but it came out. “My brother?” she asked.

The woman frowned. “The Temple is your family now,” she told Sulis. “But we were lucky. The only casualties were horses.”

Sulis nodded. The motion seemed to use most of her strength. “Why can't I move?” she asked.

“You recklessly used up all your energy, then began siphoning off your classmates',” the healer replied. “Even a little energy takes time to replace, and you nearly ran yourself dry. What you need now is rest while your body replaces what it lost.” She saw the confused look on Sulis's face and smiled. “Energy is like the lifeblood of the soul,” she explained. “Just as with blood, when you lose it, it takes time for your body to make more. And losing too much can kill a person.”

Sulis barely heard the last of the explanation before she fell back into a deep, dreamless sleep.

When she awoke the second time, Lasha was sitting in the chair beside her bed reading a book. As though feeling eyes on her, she looked up.

“Ha! They told me you'd come to soon,” she told Sulis. “Here, sit up—­they left a bowl of porridge for you.”

Her gentle-­but-­insistent hands pulled Sulis up. To her surprise, she could almost sit on her own. Lasha piled two pillows behind Sulis, supporting her, and put the bowl in her lap.

“Can you handle the spoon, or do you need help?” she asked.

Sulis tried and found that she could feed herself. And that she was starved. “How long was I out?” she asked.

“Two days the first time, one the next,” Lasha said. “Alannah and I were out only a day, but they won't let us do anything or go back to the dorms yet. I kept pestering them to let me help with things, and they finally told me to sit here and watch over you. Which, by the way, has been as interesting as watching rocks.”

Sulis found her strength rapidly dwindling as she finished the bowl. Lasha held a glass of water to her lips, and Sulis drank gratefully.

“Whiskers, I'm tired,” she complained, lying back down.

Lasha nodded sympathetically. “I know. When I came to, I could barely stand, and I wasn't even half-­drained. The good news is, it's been only two days, and I feel like running races just to
do
something.”

Sulis nodded, wanting to ask more about what happened after they'd passed out and whether Lasha had seen Kadar, but her eyes slipped closed, and she fell asleep.

When she woke again, Jonas was sitting beside her bed, his nose buried in a heavy tome. When she shifted, he looked up and snapped the book shut.

“Want some water?” he asked, and she nodded and sat up. She didn't feel as groggy as she had the past two times waking. Jonas handed her a cup of water.

“What's been going on since I've been out?” she asked him.

He let out his breath in an explosive sigh. “What hasn't been going on?” he said. “You sure blew away any fog hiding what we pledges were doing.”

“I didn't mean to,” she protested, and he patted her knee.

“I know; we all know it. You did what you could to save your brother.” He grinned. “I wish I would've been there. Lasha said you lighted up like a bonfire once she was in a trance. She was afraid you and the Herald would burn each other up, with all the energy flowing out of you. But now everyone's wondering where you got so much.”

Sulis shrugged and looked hopefully for some food. She was ravenous all of a sudden. “Is that porridge?” she asked, pointing to a bowl beside Jonas on a side table.

“Oh yeah—­they said you'd be hungry when you woke,” he said, handing the food to her.

She shoveled the food into her mouth, thinking furiously. “This can't be the first time a pledge has been able to channel,” she said through a mouthful.

“No, but there's been nothing of this magnitude. They've seen little things, like being able to run a little faster, a little farther because their
feli
focused their energy. But being able to save a man from death and suck the energy from other untried pledges, all without any ties to a deity or the One: it scared the crap out of most of the acolytes,” Jonas said. ­“People want to know how an untaken pledge could heal a man without help from Aryn.”

Sulis paused, her spoon halfway to her mouth, remembering Kadar's soul struggling against her own. “I didn't heal him, the Herald did,” she said slowly. “I just wouldn't let him go.”

Jonas nodded. “That's what the Herald said after she came to. She said it was the bond between twins that did it, but the other deities want the Counselor to investigate.”

Sulis finished her food in silence and put the bowl down. She looked Jonas in the eye and asked the question she'd been dreading the answer to.

“Jonas, how is Kadar? Have you seen him?”

Jonas looked gravely back at her. “No, I haven't seen him. Your aunt and uncle took him home yesterday. He has a broken leg and ribs, but from what I've heard, he hasn't woken up yet. They don't know if it's from some sort of head injury or what you did.”

Sulis swallowed hard. “What I did,” she repeated softly, wondering if she'd destroyed her brother.

“Sulis,” Jonas said insistently. “Don't. He would be dead if you hadn't held him. At least now he has a chance. The healers think something needs to heal before he wakes up, and that could take some time.”

Sulis nodded, staring down at her lap. All she could do was wait, and she wasn't good at waiting.

“In the meantime,” Jonas continued, “the pledges can't seem to meet anywhere without being noticed, but we are taking turns guarding you.”

Sulis looked over at him, her brows drawn together. “Is that necessary?” she asked.

Jonas nodded. “We think so. We aren't letting Alannah or Lasha go around alone either. I've been talking to some of the healers. There's a history of really strong paired meeting with nasty accidents just before their pledge ceremony. But two paired disappearing would be too much to ignore. We've been giving Djinn a fingerful of your food before you eat it, too, just in case.
Feli
won't eat something that's been poisoned.”

Djinn wriggled out from under her bed and sat up, disturbed by his name. He sneezed once, getting the cobwebs off his whiskers, and bumped his head on Sulis's thigh. She scratched him behind the ears, and his purr rumbled out.

“He hasn't left your side,” Jonas remarked. “They're even commenting on that.” He met her eyes, and she read worry in his. “Aryn's acolytes are impressed, but the others are saying nasty things.”

“Even Parasu's?” Sulis asked quietly.

“No, but they've had a lot on their hands, so I haven't seen much of them.”

Sulis raised her eyebrows questioningly. “The deliberation continues?” she asked.

“It's taken a strange turn,” Jonas said. “The judicature is still sealed in its chambers, but the accused have started dying in their cells: drowned, but with no water around them.”

Sulis let out her breath in a whistle.

“I've heard Voras is furious,” Jonas said. “Usually, the soldiers mete out justice when guilt is declared—­but Parasu is making it clear he doesn't trust Voras.”

“So he's killing all of the accused, just to make a point?” Sulis asked, disgusted.

“We can only guess at this point, but we think he's disposing of them as soon as their guilt is decided. Some were accused of minor crimes like extortion and small thieveries, and shared the same fate as the murderers. Parasu is not being kind.”

Sulis thought about it. “The common folk aren't going to be happy about it,” she said. “Parasu is taking out his anger at the other deities on them. Doesn't seem fair, really.”

“Or maybe he's making the point that any offense against the deities deserves the highest punishment. In times of war between the deities, the deities need to keep the ­people in line so they aren't fighting a war on two fronts.” He thumped the book on his lap. “I've been reading the histories.”

“But Jonas, we aren't in wartime,” Sulis protested.

“Maybe we don't think we are,” Jonas said grimly. “But I have a feeling the battle is just between the deities right now. Parasu is making sure everything is ready when their war comes to us, to the humans beneath them.”

“I'm beginning to be sorry I woke up,” Sulis said.

“You'll be even sorrier when I give you this,” Jonas told her, dragging a bag of white fabric from underneath his chair. He plopped it on her bed with a smaller leather bag.

Sulis wrinkled her nose, recognizing the sewing kit. “What's this?”

“Your pledging shift,” Jonas said. “We all have to make them. Most of the girls are cutting their own fabric and doing some white-­on-­white embroidery, but for you and us men, the housemothers cut the fabric, and all we have to do is stitch it together with the pattern.”

“Can we bribe the Forsaken to sew it for us?” Sulis suggested.

Jonas looked shocked. “Of course not. These are holy garments. They can't be sullied with contact with the Forsaken. Even if the Forsaken have been wrongly cast down,” he added hastily, seeing the expression on Sulis's face,

“They'll be a holy mess when I'm done with them,” Sulis said with a sigh, pawing through the material. “White. The color of purity, huh? I'll try not to bleed on them when I stick my finger with the needle.”

“Well, they start out white, but when you're taken by a deity, they turn the color of that deity's acolytes. Then you send the changed shift home to your family so they know who you've become. They usually hang it on the wall as a sign of good fortune and prosperity to the house.”

Sulis grinned, imagining what her grandmother's response would be to receiving a shift in the colors of a deity. Something pithy and obscene, no doubt. “When do they have to be done?” she asked.

“We've got less than two months until our pledging ceremony. That should give even you enough time.” At her doubtful look, he said, “They really are a simple design. Even Dani thinks it won't be too hard. Besides, they won't let you out of here for another few days. What else do you have to do?”

His prediction was correct. The healer put her on bed rest for another two days, and the time dragged on endlessly as she stitched the white tunic and wished for word of her brother.

“You're doing that wrong,” Alannah said, interrupting her work. “The stitches there need to be smaller, inside out. Here,” she said, grabbing the cloth from Sulis and pulling the stitches out.

“Hey,” Sulis protested. “That took me all morning.”

Alannah deftly stitched around the arm openings. “Lasha and I are here to take you back to the dormitories,” she told Sulis as she stitched. “But a healer grabbed Lasha to help with a little girl who just came in. Besides, we didn't want to leave until Luella and Dani stop by after sword practice. That way we'll be well protected on the streets between here and the Temple.

“I thought I was supposed to do every stitch myself,” Sulis said mildly, as Alannah flipped the tunic and began on the other side.

She snorted. “Like the deities will notice who stitched your clothing when they're trying to grab your mind. They're more likely to want someone who got others to do it for her than someone completely honest in what she does.”

Sulis was startled by the bitterness in Alannah's voice. “Okay, who are you and what have you done with my friend?” she asked jokingly.

Alannah glanced at her sharply. “Have you heard about the prisoners?” she demanded. “Have you heard what type of mercy Parasu has?”