The Obsidian Temple by Kelley Grant Page B

ride beside her but was quickly separated by devotees who were attempting to cram every minutia of desert lore into the poor girl’s head.
    Sulis would have spared her some sympathy, but Grandmother’s and Master Anchee’s lessons continued on humpback, and her own head was starting to feel full. Every moment off the humpback, at the oasis in evening and morning, was spent learning the poses and movement that could create the dances of power. Before she could raise energy outside of herself, she first had to learn to activate the spiraling energy within her own body.
    Sulis was beginning to wonder if they had the right woman, as she certainly didn’t see energy snaking up her spine through her energy points when she did poses. She didn’t feel energetic at all, just overwhelmed and tired.
    â€œOw,” she complained, as her grandmother toppled her ungrounded Warrior pose into the dirt, and Sulis flopped onto her hip.
    â€œPay more attention!” Grandmother ordered. “You won’t see the energy until you focus.”
    â€œI just need more time,” Sulis growled. “You don’t give me time to feel the poses on my own, to get my own grounding. Maybe if you’d back off, I could actually feel something. I thought we were going to Kabandha to train. Let me practice on my own until then.”
    Her grandmother glared at her. “There will be more distractions for you in Kabandha,” she said. “If you can’t learn to focus now, how will you dedicate yourself when you are tempted by other callings?”
    â€œHas there ever been another calling for me?” Sulis asked, exasperated. “When have you known me to quit the path I’m following?”
    Her grandmother threw up her hands. “Have it your way. But be ready to work under the Prophet’s discipline when we reach Kabandha. He will have no patience for your whining and complaining.”
    Sulis glared after her grandmother, wondering why she constantly harried her so. “I’ve always stuck to my path,” she muttered to Djinn, who yowled and stretched out at her feet for a belly rub.
    The Sands ended a day’s ride south of the Obsidian Temple, and semiarid savannah took over. Mindful of her grandmother’s looks, Sulis spent every spare moment mastering the poses and keeping her balance. Sometimes she felt like her own energy was finally rising, but the moment she grasped at it, it died.
    But it was still a positive development, and she was feeling confident and a little cocky as their mages broke the great illusion around Kabandha. It was not a large city—­more of a large barracks and training grounds. It was home only to the Chosen and the warriors and scholars dedicated to the One. They rode down the small dirt road past some long dormitories and into the courtyard of a large main stone hall with tall, regal columns.
    A crowd gathered in the courtyard. To the left was a formation of soldiers, mixed male and female, all dressed in tan cloaks over trousers. Long, curved swords hung from the sashes of most of the warriors, and they gazed straight ahead, expressions neutral. The group that stepped forward to greet them had two main figures, a man and a woman, colorful in silk robes and flanked by a dozen or so ­people in the white cloaks that had marked acolytes at the Obsidian Temple.
    As Sulis and her party dismounted, the woman stepped forward to greet Master Anchee and Grandmother.
    â€œI am Yanil,” the woman said with a smile. “Tanon and I will show you to your rooms.” She gestured to the man beside her. “We have opened a guesthouse for the Chosen ones. The Prophet will meet with you tomorrow, and you will decide a course of training together. You must want to freshen up after your journey. Chosen, follow me. Warriors of the One, follow Tanon, and he will assign you a dormitory and work group.”
    Sulis and Ava followed Grandmother and Master