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The last time Tiyana had stepped onto the surface of the sea, she had worn the Mask of Nama-kwah, and had striven futilely to establish contact with the goddess for whom she had been a Vessel. She had been painfully conscious then of the weakness of her ashuma. And even before the day the Fidi arrived, First Calling had been little more than an empty ritual, although she would never have admitted, or even acknowledged, that truth back then.
And now ...
Now she stood, rather than danced, on the waves. She wore no Mask; there was no need for her to impersonate a goddess who was no longer worshipped by her or her people. Instead of the elaborate webwork of diamonds and silver that accompanied First Calling, she wore only a plain blue chamma that whipped in the breeze. Her braids, decorated with sky-blue beads, descended below her shoulders and flew in the wind. She stood slightly above the waves, and could feel their delicate touch against the soles of her feet.
Tiyana’s face was as serene as the Mask of Nama-kwah had been. She was secure in the power Almovaar had bestowed upon her. And she felt certain in the justness of its use, and in the responsibility her father and Kyroun had given to her and the other Adepts.
She focused on the island before her. It was still a fair distance away, but with the far-vision Almovaad sorcery bestowed, she could see the beleaguered Uloans still fighting hopelessly to survive, even as the relentless mwiti forced the people off the beach.
Byallis stood at Tiyana’s right side, standing on the waves with practiced ease. At her left was a Matile man named Geremu, who was once an Amiya, and now an Adept second only to Tiyana in accomplishment. Tiyana nodded to them. They nodded back. They, too, had seen what was occurring on the island, and along with the other Adepts, they had, in the Oneness, agreed on what they had to do.
Arms spread wide, Tiyana began the task of gathering the magic she and the others needed to accomplish their goal. The others duplicated her stance. No longer was it they necessary for them to clasp hands to wield their collective energy; the link their minds shared in the Oneness was more than sufficient to draw upon Almovaar’s resources, which they now did.
Without warning, blue lightning blazed from Tiyana’s hands. Its crackling could be heard over the waves. The coruscation of eldritch force leaped from Tiyana to Geremu and Byallis, who added their own power, as did all the other Adepts, each in his or her turn, until jagged lines of energy surrounded them like a palisade fashioned from glowing serpents.
Then Tiyana thrust her hands forward, as though she were pushing against a wall. So did the others. And a myriad of lightning-like lines of force arrowed toward the island.