“THINGS ARE GETTING desperate,” Kadar updated Nabil. They were sitting on the flagstones in the courtyard after sparring, cooling down. Nabil had been out of town a couple of weeks, checking on the Forsaken refugees in the mountains and had returned that morning. “No sign of concessions by the Voices. People are becoming even angrier about the walkouts, and the Forsaken families are starting to suffer, being penned in the district without freedom or fresh food.”
Kadar wiped sweat off his forehead with a sleeve. “There’ve been rumors that Aryn is forming a council to review the Forsaken families, which was one of the demands. And Farrah has been told the Tribune was looking into wage increases before his health turned. Now that he’s bedridden, nothing has come out of the Temple for the Forsaken,” he added.
“But there’s no escape for the Forsaken while the Temple dithers,” Nabil said. “Since the riots and massacre, they’re afraid that people will come after them again, but they can’t go someplace safe. We’re darned lucky there hasn’t been any more violence.”
“Families escaped when the Forsaken killed the feli,” Kadar reminded him. “That gave them some hope that there is a way out.”
“The people we thought escaped when they killed the feli never showed at Stonycreek. I couldn’t find any sign of them on the road, and I sent people searching in the backwoods for them, in case they were lost. Severin never contacted any of the Southerner caravaners to help transport them. As far as we know, they were captured by Voras’s men. Hopefully, they were killed when they were captured.”
“You hope they died?” Kadar asked sharply.
Nabil shook his head. “It’s either that or they were captured and questioned. We’ve never let the Forsaken know the exact location of the town before. Severin and Farrah broke that rule, and now the whole town is in danger. We can hold off bandits, but not an entire army of Voras.”
“I don’t get it,” Kadar said, frustrated. “Severin has to know the danger. He’s better with strategy than either of us. Why would he take such a chance? Why not use us when we can get the Forsaken to the town with less danger?”
Nabil looked at him steadily. “To make certain you are out of the loop,” he said.
Kadar’s heart started beating faster. “You think this is directed at me?”
“I know it is,” Nabil said, and looked away. “He wants to make you look weak. He wants you to seem unreliable in front of Farrah, so he can take first take your place with her, then take over the movement.”
“Which explains why they didn’t tell us about the escape plans,” Kadar said.
“You told me to tell you if I saw something between Severin and Farrah,” Nabil said, still not looking at Kadar. “Even if it’s something that might anger you.”
Kadar tried to breathe evenly, tried to breathe at all. “And?”
“The night before I left. I was supposed to pick up the laundry, and I found them together.”
“You mean . . . You’re sure?” Kadar asked. He grimaced and looked away as his heart plummeted to his shoes. This was what he’d suspected the night he’d confronted Farrah about the feli. “They were having sex? No mistake?”
“No mistake.”
Kadar tamped down the anger he felt, swallowed the betrayal. “I’ve been over to see her a couple of times since you left, but she’s been cold, distant, and too busy to speak more than a couple of words. I thought it was because of the warning I gave her, and I’ve kept my distance. Do they know you saw them?”
Nabil nodded. “Yeah, Farrah saw me. I’m sorry, Kadar. If you don’t want to be a part of this anymore, I’ll keep it to myself, work on my own. You can be out of the whole mess.”
Kadar shook his head, getting to his own feet. “No, the only thing this changes is what’s between Farrah and me. I’d like you to report to Farrah and Severin about the Forsaken we lost. Make sure they know what kind of danger they put everyone in.”
Nabil put a hand on his shoulder and squeezed, then walked to the house. Kadar stood a moment, lost in anger and pain. He wanted to kill Severin. Go to his big fancy house and beat the bastard to a bloody pulp. Kadar slammed his fist into the wall, relishing a pain that was physical, not mental. He hit the wall again, then leaned his head against it, breathing heavily.
“You all right, Kadar?” Simon’s voice brought him back to himself, cradling his bleeding knuckles while he tried to find some sense of calm.
Kadar took a deep breath and turned to his cousin. “Fine, thanks Simon. Just had some bad news is all.”
He strode to the house, avoiding the stares of the Forsaken help and his family, and went to his room, closing the door.
Amber was on his bed. He sat beside her, and she stood, stretched, and started purring. She climbed onto his lap and curled up, settling in a golden ball. Kadar reached out with his mind.
Kadar? Sulis’s mindvoice was surprised. It was a little weaker than usual. What’s wrong?
She betrayed me, Kadar told his sister, his best friend through the years, anguish showing in his sending. Farrah is sleeping with Severin.
Oh no, Sulis sent. Hold on, let me get out of this lesson and find a quiet corner with Djinn.
Kadar could almost feel her walking, then the link strengthened when Djinn entered the meld.
What happened? How did you find out? Sulis asked.
Kadar filled her in on the details.
Stupid cow, Sulis said, contempt plain in her sending. You are twice the man Severin is. If she can’t get her people free in a moral way, without that criminal, she isn’t good enough to be a leader. She certainly isn’t good enough for you and Datura.
Kadar shook his head even though she couldn’t see him. I loved her, or at least I thought I did, until everything started happening with the feli.
And you learned who she really was inside, Sulis finished for him. You loved who you wanted her to be. And she probably tried to be better than who she was for you. That’s no shame on you, and more shame on her that she couldn’t keep to a good path.
Kadar shook his head again, this time because he was feeling the intense headache that told him he was losing the link.
I want more for Datura, he told Sulis. I want her to have a mother, like we didn’t.
He felt Sulis scoff. We had half a dozen mothers, if I recall, she corrected. That’s the desert way. Everyone meddling in everyone else’s business. Bring Datura here, Kadar. Come where you are loved, and she will be spoiled.
Kadar thought about it, through the pounding of his head. It would be the easiest solution if he just left with Datura, never having to see Farrah again. But it was not the right decision while he could still guide the movement away from the violence and hatred that threatened to overwhelm and derail it.
Not yet, he said. It isn’t the right time.
He felt Sulis’s sigh. You sound like Master Clay, she said. He’s into timing. Kadar, I can feel your headache from here. Go do what you need to. You know your family is here waiting for you and Datura, whatever your choices. Love and misses.
Love and misses, Kadar sent back, then rubbed his temples as the connection was lost. He wasn’t certain he felt less angry after talking to Sulis, but he felt more connected with himself, with what he needed to do. Farrah had chosen her path even if Severin had guided her to it. He’d confront her about it, let her know she couldn’t have it both ways. But he wasn’t going to abandon the rest of the Forsaken to the violence that threatened to engulf the movement, and he wasn’t going to step down as one of the leaders.
Kadar was able to do his work and have last meal with his family, ignoring their questioning gazes at his bruised knuckles. He sang his beautiful daughter a song before bedtime and knew he’d always be grateful to Farrah for giving him this bright, precocious child.
Kadar woke near dawn to an eerie howling and crashing downstairs. He stumbled into the hallway, almost running into Uncle Tarik, who ran out as well, a lighted oil lamp in one hand, a knife in the other. They rushed down to the living room, and a strange sight met them in the dim light of the lamp.
Amber was howling from the shoulder of a man dressed in black, latched onto him with her claws as he flailed and tried to escape her slashing claws.
The man saw them and hunched over, hands covering his face. “Get it off me,” he begged. “Don’t let your devil attack no more; I’m just a messenger, not stealin’ nothin’.”
Uncle Tarik grabbed the man’s arm, and Amber jumped off and trotted over to rub herself on Kadar’s legs, purring madly, pleased with herself.
“What kind of messenger comes in the dead of night, dressed in black with dark face paint on?” Uncle Tarik asked roughly, shaking him.
“Farrah sent me, with her sister,” the man said, waving toward a small form huddled on the ground.
Kadar ran over to Thea, who seemed heavily asleep. She didn’t wake when he shook her. “What did you do to her?” he asked.
“Farrah made her sleep, so she wouldn’t cry out none,” he said. “She said you promised to take care of Thea, no matter what. That none of it is her fault, and you need to get her out of the city.”
Kadar grabbed the man’s collar and raised his fist. “What has Farrah done?” he demanded. “What are she and Severin up to?”
Uncle Tarik restrained Kadar. “None of that here,” he said, jerking his head toward the door, where the rest of the family stood staring. “Let’s take him out to the courtyard and ask some questions.”
The man shoved Kadar suddenly, and dodged Uncle Tarik’s grasp. He dodged Nabil, who’d just appeared at the door from the courtyard. They chased him out of the hall, but he disappeared into the night before they’d gone a few steps. Nabil, faster than the other two, continued the chase as Kadar and Uncle Tarik turned back to the hall.
Aunt Raella and Dana were crouched over Thea when they returned.
“What is going on, Kadar?” Aunt Raella asked, clearly furious.
“I don’t know,” Kadar admitted, helplessly. “Farrah hasn’t spoken to me in days. I should go to the district, see what’s going on.”
“Not before dawn,” Uncle Tarik said. “If something has happened, this town could explode, and I don’t want you out in it.
Nabil came in the room. “He’s right. Something bad’s happened. The Temple bells are ringing, and I can hear gongs south of here, near the heart of the city. Nothing you could do at this point but get yourself arrested. We’ll wait for news, then act.”
Kadar could hear the bells, dim but obvious now that he was paying attention. At Aunt Raella’s direction, he carried Farrah’s sister up the stairs and laid her on a bedroll Dana spread in the nursery. Sanuri sat in a corner and rocked back and forth, upset by the commotion.
He came downstairs to find Uncle Tarik and Nabil looking out the front doorway, listening to the bells.
“Did you see Severin yesterday?” Kadar asked Nabil.
He shook his head. “I had too much to do here at the hall after getting back from the journey. I was going to talk to him today.”
They stood and listened as the night lightened into dawn. Their neighbors came out of their houses and started mingling in the streets, calling questions. The bells eventually stopped, but everyone stayed on alert. Most of the neighborhood was out in the street when a soldier rode into the neighborhood.
“Get in your houses and stay there,” he ordered. “No one leaves this neighborhood. The city is locked down.”
“What’s happening?” a neighbor shouted.
“The Temple Children’s Home has been attacked,” the soldier told him. “The guards are dead and the children are missing. We don’t want riots, so stay in your homes, in your neighborhood, and report anyone who comes here to make trouble.”
As the man rode off, Kadar wondered how they’d report anyone if they weren’t allowed to leave their homes. The street emptied out, and Uncle Tarik pulled on Kadar’s shoulder to get him inside. They found the others sitting tensely in the social room. Uncle Tarik called in the servants and guards and gave them the news.
“I’m going back to my family,” Aunt Raella said. “I’m taking the boys and going home before summer sets in, and we can’t travel the desert. Having children kidnapped will drive Northerners mad, and I don’t want to be trapped here.”
“Aaron is still weeks away with the wagons and mules, and won’t be back until just before the heat sets in,” Uncle Tarik said wearily, rubbing a hand over his face. “And we’re not allowed to leave. We don’t have a way out for you.”
“I’ll buy a wagon,” Aunt Raella said stubbornly. “Gather other Southerners who want to leave and travel as a group. I’m not staying here while these people kill each other.”
“I need to get to the Forsaken district,” Kadar told Nabil.
“The Forsaken district’s the last place we want to be seen,” Nabil said softly. “Besides, she won’t be there. That’s why she delivered her sister. She was probably one of the kidnappers and is hiding with the children.
“Southern spies,” a childish voice muttered beside Kadar, and he looked down. Sanuri sat by his feet, mindlessly knotting a length of cloth. “No other way they could get the weapons to do this. Come down hard on the spies. Can’t keep the city locked down, bad choice, Templar. Let the Southerners out, see who goes to the Forsaken. Let Southern wagons leave, but search their wagons and arrest the spies.”
Nabil looked at Kadar, then down at the girl.
“What is she saying?” he asked.
“She hears the Voices at the Temple,” Kadar said, then shook his head as the realization came to him. “No, she’s actually hearing the deities as they speak to their Voices!” He looked seriously at Nabil. “Tell no one.”
Nabil nodded, his brow furrowed. “They wouldn’t believe it anyhow,” he said. “I’m going to visit some friends who are guards at other houses. See if they have more news.”
Kadar nodded, frustrated. “We need to be really careful if Voras is blaming this on Southerners.”
THE CRONE RUBBED her forehead as she walked through the devastation of the Children’s Home, her anguish a physical ache. The chair she sat in to read stories to the children was smashed, and there were blood smears across the floor. Most of the furniture was overturned, and the rugs had dark stains. There were blankets pulled over seven still forms that had been carried to the main room after the attacks. Two guards and three feli had lost their lives, along with two of the invaders. Mercifully, there were no small forms, no children. None of the maidens had died though the healers were tending several women, some for cuts and bruises, and some for shock.
The Templar was there, striding around ordering his soldiers in the investigation. Both Counselors of the One were there, speaking quietly to the grieving women. When the Templar saw the Crone, he strode over.
“You didn’t have any fatalities though I lost two soldiers here and the two watchmen that guard on the street below,” he said.
The Crone looked around. “Did they get all the children?” she asked. Her voice broke. “Who was it? What do they want with them?”
“The infants and toddlers are safe,” the Templar said. “Your women are tending them. We’ve confirmed it was Forsaken who took the rest though they wore black clothes. Your maidens said that about two dozen children were taken in all. I assume they want to use them to bargain with, to get concessions. We’re doing a search of all the houses in the Forsaken district, turning everything upside down. I don’t expect they’ll hide the children there, but someone might get scared enough to tell us where they went to ground.“
“Monsters,” the Crone said, clasping her shaking hands. “I’m surprised they didn’t take the babies, too.”
“They tried,” the Templar said. “They were fought off by one of your own maidens, believe it or not. She rallied her feli, got a sword off a dead soldier, and blocked the hallway. Her feli was killed defending her, but the other maidens saw what she was doing and started lobbing things at the invaders. It was a quick grab and run, so they left with the rest of the kids when it started taking too long.”
The Crone looked around at the weeping women, trying to picture any of them swinging a sword and beating off Forsaken. Her eye snagged on a tall, straight blonde, cradling a baby to her breast. The maiden seemed to sense her gaze, turned, and gaze back at her, lifting her chin proudly. It was Joaquil, the newest acolyte.
“Yes, that blonde, that’s her,” the Templar said.
“I’d ordered the Mother Superior to send her south, after she’d weaned the baby,” the Crone said, not taking her eyes off the girl.
“Good thing she was still here,” the Templar said impatiently, “or we’d have infants to worry about as well as the older kids. I’ll send a report to your office as soon as we learn something. I’ll convene a Curia if we get demands from the kidnappers.”
The Crone nodded and skirted a broken table as she walked over to Joaquil.
“It seems we owe you a great deal,” she murmured to the girl. “I am grateful you knew how to defend your charges and did so faithfully.”
“Dani, one of Voras’s soldiers, showed me how when I was pledging,” Joaquil said. “I didn’t realize I even remembered. I was afraid they’d take my little boy, so I grabbed the sword and did what I had to.”
The Crone reached and pulled the blanket from around the baby’s face, and he blinked pale blue eyes at her and smacked his tiny lips. The Crone placed a finger in the center of the baby’s forehead and gave a blessing. The fingerprint glowed once, then was absorbed, showing that Ivanha was taking heed of the events. Joaquil kissed her son, seeming to take courage from the blessing.
“I have a request,” Joaquil said.
The Crone nodded. “Anything that is in my power,” she said.
“I want to leave, with my son,” the maiden said. She jerked her chin up defiantly. “My feli is dead. I don’t wish to serve the Temple any longer. I know you were going to take me away from him. Now that I don’t have a feli and can’t serve Ivanha, I just want to be a mother, his mother.”
The Crone stepped back, surprised. “But where would you go?” she asked. “If I recall, both of your parents are in service of the deities. What would you do? Your training has all been in service to the Temple.”
“My mother’s family is in town,” she said. “If I have to, I’ll go there. I just want out of all the scheming and hatred. Service isn’t what I thought it would be. I want my own life, and I want my baby to be a part of it.”
The Crone hesitated, looking around at the destruction. It had happened before, feli dying from an accident. Usually, the maiden was sent back to the Temple of the One to see if she could be paired again. If that did not happen, she took a position with Ivanha that didn’t involve channeling energy. This was the first the Crone had encountered someone wanting to completely leave Ivanha’s service. Her eye snagged on the Counselors of the One, speaking quietly in the corner, and she waved them over.
“How may we serve, Crone?” Counselor Elida asked.
“Maiden Joaquil has lost her feli,” the Crone said. “She has requested not to be re-paired and wishes to leave Ivanha’s service. Is there a precedent for this? She fought off the invaders to save the baby and toddler wing from kidnapping, which is how her feli was killed.”
Counselor Elida turned her gaze to Joaquil. “Yes, there is. You may leave service, but your child was born in service, and fathered by a soldier, and must remain unless special dispensation is given by both the Crone and the father.”
“The father was the Templar, and he’s dead,” Joaquil said. “I’m his mother, his only parent. You can’t take him from me!”
Counselor Elida raised her eyebrows at the Crone, who didn’t bother to think. Too many children had been stolen from their mothers today. Perhaps it was a sign of her weakness, but she would not let another be stolen, even for Ivanha.
“I will allow you custody of your child on two conditions,” the Crone said, turning a stern eye on the girl. “The first is, if you find your relatives will not take you in and you cannot take care of your son, you will bring him back here and willingly give him to us for his own protection. You would be allowed a position in service as a paid ladies’ maid or cook if you desired to stay close, but you would not be of the Temple, and you would no longer be his mother.”
Joaquil thought a moment. It was a serious class demotion. At last, she nodded.
“The second, you will bring him to the Temple the year after his sixteenth birthday to be presented at the Temple of the One. This child has a strong Temple heritage on both sides of his family and must be permitted to pledge if the feli find him suitable. We will put him on our rolls, and will send someone out to collect him if he does not show up.”
Joaquil nodded. “Yes, I can do that. The Temple is the best path for most people. Especially ones with talent. His father was Templar, and he could rise in the Temple.”
Counselor Elida nodded, seeming pleased by the exchange. “An excellent compromise. If you’d like, Crone, we can record this and give her a small retainer for her service to Ivanha, so you can finish ministering your maidens and organizing the household.”
“Double what you would normally give,” the Crone said. “I want the child taken care of.”
The Counselor’s eyebrow’s rose again, but she merely gestured Joaquil in front of her. The Crone could hear them talking softly as they walked away.
“Have you thought about where you will go if your relatives do not take you in . . . ?” was the last she heard as they walked to the baby-care wing, presumably to get the boy’s supplies.
The Mother Superior approached. “What will we do?” she asked, wringing her hands. “They’re saying it isn’t safe to keep the babies here.”
The Crone nodded. “I want you to go to Ivanha’s temple and gather some of the maidens to help make arrangements. With a bit of moving around, we can have enough first-floor rooms to house the remaining children. Make certain the elderly and those who cannot walk the stairs still have rooms on the bottom floor. I will ask the Templar to put a heavy guard around us as we transfer the infants to within Temple walls.”
The Mother Superior bowed and headed off as the Crone looked around, searching where the Templar was now. Dawn was just breaking, and the Crone could tell this would be one of the longest days of her life.
THE CURFEW ON the Southerners was lifted quickly. Aunt Raella gathered with other women in the street to talk about leaving Illian as a group and where to hire guides and guards. Kadar ranged farther out, into neighborhoods closer to the Temple, listening to the crowds of people who gathered.
There were guards and soldiers everywhere, and Kadar searched for a familiar tall, dark-haired noble among the crowds. The Forsaken district was off-limits, the houses being torn apart by soldiers hunting for clues about the kidnappings.
“I blame the Southerners,” Kadar overheard a townsman say. “They’re the ones who encouraged the Forsaken, paying them too well, giving them notions above their station. Southerners don’t belong in our city. I hope Voras drives them out.”
“Voras better do something, soon,” a woman added. “None of our children are safe if they can’t guard the Temple’s children. We’ll all need to hire guards.”
Kadar heard the sentiment echoed many times. The Illians wanted someone to blame. The Forsaken were already penned up and guarded. So any crime by them pointed to outside help, and the only people they could think would help Forsaken were Southerners. They didn’t want to believe that the soldiers had gotten careless, or that the Forsaken themselves were smart enough to escape on their own.
As Kadar headed back home, he finally caught sight of Severin on horseback. The man turned into an alley, alone for once, and Kadar ran after him. He dodged into the alley, turning the corner as Severin was reaching the end.
“Severin!” Kadar yelled. “I need to talk to you!”
Severin jerked his horse’s head around, startled. He frowned and looked around as Kadar walked up the alley, then dismounted.
“Where is she?” Kadar hissed, when he came close enough to keep his voice low.
“You’re out of it, Kadar,” Severin said. “She doesn’t want to see you.”
“You are mad if you think this will work,” Kadar said, furious. “I can’t believe Farrah would go along with such stupidity.”
“This was her idea,” Severin said. “And her choice.”
“Don’t try to tell me you didn’t encourage her,” Kadar said. “She would have told me about it otherwise.”
“And you would have tried to talk her out of it,” Severin said. “Face it, Kadar. You don’t understand what it’s like to lose everything and have to fight to get it back. Farrah needs someone who does.”
“This is suicide!” Kadar said, incredulously. “Stealing children is abhorrent. She’s turning into a monster, and you’re encouraging it.”
“If that’s how you judge her, you don’t deserve her,” Severn said coldly. “She found someone she can depend on. She doesn’t need you anymore.”
“She abandoned her own sister, gave her to me to protect.” Kadar gave a short laugh. “You think she depends on you? She didn’t trust you to protect her sister. Clearly, she doesn’t think she’ll make it out of this alive. You need to tell her to give up. Return the children, escape with her sister to the desert.”
Severin shook his head. “You really don’t understand her, do you? She and I want the same things—respect and our rightful place in society. She wants that here, not the desert. She doesn’t run from her duties.”
“I’m talking about saving her life,” Kadar said, just as contemptuously. “She can have freedom with both her sisters in the desert. She doesn’t need to throw everything away.”
Severin turned his back on Kadar, who resisted an urge to grab him and start punching. The man remounted.
“It’s too late, even if that were what she wanted,” Severin said, gathering the reins. “I will keep her safe, and I’ll get her the freedom she needs at the same time. Stay away from the Forsaken, Kadar. You’ll just bring suspicion down on your family.” He smirked. “I’ve heard your aunt is desperate to flee to the desert. Maybe you should run away with her, wrap yourself in a cocoon, and stay safe.”
Severin spurred his horse out of the alley, as Kadar attempted to unclench his fists. He spun and surprised a scrubby itinerant who was creeping up the alley. The man flinched, as though he expected Kadar to strike him.
“Sorry,” Kadar said. He tossed the man a coin and walked back home.