Safe. If only she could believe that herself.
Kyra coaxed her mare along the corridor until they came to the fourth door on the right, where she once again inserted the tip of her katari into a slot. This time a numbered screen slid out and she tapped in the Transport code Felda Seshur, the Order’s mathematician, had given her: 116010611.
The door slid open and the tight knot in her stomach dissolved. The code still worked; this should still be the right door.
She led Rinna across the threshold and pale blue lights came on, revealing a circular room with seats melded to the floor. Kyra sat down on one to wait, and it moved fractionally beneath her, adjusting to her shape. This part always made her skin crawl. Chairs weren’t supposed to move, not the ones made of wood or stone or metal, at any rate. Who knew what material had been used to forge these? Kyra sat erect on her seat, trying not to think about what she was doing. She had Transported a few times before, but always in the company of the elders of Kali. Her journey here had been the first time she’d done it alone.
The room began to spin. Rinna whinnied again and backed to the wall, where the spin was greater. She almost lost her balance, crashing against the curved surface of the chamber. Kyra frowned. She should have tethered her mare. Something to remember for the next time.
“We’ll soon be home, Rinna,” she said in a soothing voice.
But the room kept on spinning. What if it never stopped? If they were stuck there forever, a rotating nightmare between one world and the next?
No, that was irrational. She was giving in to fear, a monster without a face that was born from her own dreams. Kyra closed her eyes and practiced Sheetali, the Cooling Breath, until she sensed the spinning slow down and stop.
Chapter 2
The Chosen Ones
They emerged from the Hub on a hill overlooking the windswept plain that was the realm of the Order of Kali. Kyra inhaled the cool, mulberry-scented night air: the smell of home. They had reached Ferghana safely. Surrounded by mountains and watered by the great Siran-dyr River, the fertile valley was a mix of cropland, pastures, orchards, and forests—a living, breathing land, unlike the desert she had just left behind.
The door swung closed behind her and the Hub slept, quiescent—a metallic hump that shone with an eerie light. Kyra shivered and moved away from it. By the Goddess, she was glad to be out of there.
Rinna pranced, also relieved to be outside again. Kyra patted her flank, feeling empty somehow. All those months of anxiety and anticipation, going over various scenarios with Shirin Mam, and it was over now.
A familiar figure scrambled up the hill toward her. Nineth? Trust her to know the minute Kyra was back. But of everyone in the Order, it was her face that was most welcome now. Elena would have wanted to come too, but would have allowed Nineth to overrule her, as she usually did.
“Come on, Rinna.” Kyra caught hold of the reins and made her way through the tamarisk bushes that lined the path downhill.
“Kyra!” Nineth met them halfway and flung herself into Kyra’s arms, almost knocking her over. Behind them, Rinna whinnied a greeting. “You’ve been gone so long. I was imagining all sorts of horrible things. What happened? No, don’t tell me. It is Shirin Mam you must talk to first. She said to tell you that she’s waiting.”
“I would’ve been back sooner, but it took a while to find that nest of vipers,” said Kyra. “And on my way back I was stuck in the Transport Chamber. I have no idea how long I was in that spinning room, but it felt like hours.”
Nineth hesitated. “Did you . . . is he . . . ?”
“Yes. Maidul is dead,” said Kyra flatly. She should have had a sense of accomplishment as she said it, but she felt nothing—just a deep, aching tiredness.
Nineth’s eyes widened with awe. With a pang, Kyra realized that a gulf now separated her from her friends. She had killed with the katari and was no longer an apprentice. Would Elena and Nineth distance themselves from her? She hoped not; she had been lonely in the Order until they arrived. At five, she had been the youngest novice the Order had ever seen. And also, despite Shirin Mam’s efforts, the most damaged. It had taken years to come out of the darkness that had threatened to consume her. Even now, the ghosts were never too far away.
“Where is Shirin Mam?” asked Kyra.
“In the cavern,” replied Nineth, “pretending to read some old book, and waiting for you with all the patience of a fox outside a rabbit hole.”
Kyra grinned at the image. “I’d better hurry.”
“She had me scrubbing the cavern until I thought my skin would come off,” said Nineth, taking the reins from her. “The initiation will be tonight. There hasn’t been one for three years, not since Tonar Kalam. All the elders are excited. Aren’t you?”
Nervous, more like. “You’ll be next,” said Kyra with a smile she didn’t quite feel as they walked downhill. “You’ll find out how exciting it is.”
Nineth gave an exaggerated shudder. “Oh no, not yet. Shirin Mam says I am not even ready to kill a wyr-wolf, let alone a man. I’m quite happy being an apprentice.”
Kyra looked at her with affection. Plump, cheerful Nineth with the brown hair hanging over her eyes and the perpetually crumpled robe—there were many in the Order who wondered why Shirin Mam had chosen her as a novice, from all the girls of the Dan tribe that dwelled in the eastern end of the valley. Kyra could have told them the reason, but what would be the use? Most Markswomen measured prowess by one’s ability with the Mental Arts or in Hatha-kala. Something as nebulous as “spirit” wouldn’t make sense to them—but Nineth had it in spades.
“You can’t be an apprentice forever,” said Kyra. “You’ll be seventeen next month.”
Nineth snorted. “So what? You’re two years older than me. And don’t forget dear Akassa. She’s champing at the bit. Probably claw me apart if I get my first mark before her.”
Kyra laughed. Akassa Chan was another apprentice, and a favorite of Tamsyn’s, the Mistress of Mental Arts. Come to think of it, now that she herself was going to be initiated as a Markswoman, Nineth, Elena, and Akassa were the only apprentices left. True, there were four novices who had yet to pass the coming-of-age trial and earn their kataris, but it troubled Shirin Mam that she hadn’t found more girls with the ability to bond with a kalishium blade in recent years.
They parted at the foot of the hill, Nineth leading Rinna to the horse enclosure and Kyra heading for the cave system where the Order of Kali dwelled. The entrance to the caves was a crawlway on the base of a hill opposite the Hub. After the first few meters, the narrow passage of the crawlway widened into a broad corridor. Keep walking, and you arrived at the immense cavern where all the sacred rites were held.
“You are back.”