He huffs down beside me and knocks his knee against mine. “Well, that was … enlightening.”
“If by enlightening you mean horrifying, then yes.” My voice sounds as hollow as wind crying through swamp reeds.
“It was definitely more impressive than horrifying.”
“There’s nothing impressive about losing control and killing people.”
Temujin knocks my leg more insistently. When I finally groan and look over at him, he offers a gentle smile. “You needn’t worry about that because youwillhave perfect control. Come here morning and night over the next seven days, practice honing your power, then help me save our people.” He presses his palms together and looks at me with as much longing as Orbai begging for barley cakes.
Serik groans so loudly in my head, I almost check over my shoulder to make sure he isn’t here.
I’m glad he isn’t.
His face would be redder than his holy robes, and his eyes would be glinting with fury and disappointment. Not in my lack of control, but because I gave in to Temujin’s demands.
“Stop that.” I wave my hand at Temujin’s pouty face. “You know I have to help you, so why bother begging?” I scoot away and climb to my feet, but Temujin just follows me.
“Because I want you tobelievein what we’re doing. To truly become part of the Shoniin. It’s time we officially welcomed you into the group. New recruits are always initiated with prayers and oblations to the Lady of the Sky. Come on.” He hooks his arm around me and steers me toward the stairs.
I duck free and stand my ground. “I’m too tired.” And I’m definitely not ready to become part of his group.
“This will enliven you. The ceremony is directly from my Book of Whisperings—handed down through my family over seven generations. You’ll feel as though you’re standing in the middle of Nashab Marketplace.”
My toes instinctively wiggle inside my boots, picturing the grainy sand and delicious heat. I know he’s baiting me, looking for a weak spot in my fortress walls, but it’s not like I have other options at the moment. Temujin isn’t foolish enough to leave me unsupervised, which means I can’t sneak over to see Serik or hunt for a gateway back to the Ram’s Head. And Iaminterested in seeing how others worship the Lady and Father. Simply being allowed to worship openly, without fear of reprisal, is something I’ve always dreamed of. And maybe I’ll learn something useful about the Shoniin. Something that will prove whether they’re really as noble as they claim.
“Fine. I’ll come to your little ceremony.”
Temujin flashes a dazzling smile and leads me back down the hill to the cobalt fire. As we walk, he calls out to every group of Shoniin we pass, requesting that they join us for the service. Most are staggering back from the training fields for lunch, and despite myself, a wistful smile lifts my lips as the Shoniin sink onto the logs around the fire, trading stories and encouragement and laughter. It’s been ages since I’ve sat around a fire with my comrades. A lifetime since I’ve toasted and drunk and just let myself be. For two years it’s been just me and Serik and Orbai, holding vigil through the night, and as much as my head aches with frustration and confusion over who to trust and what to believe, my heart aches more. For friendship and acceptance and healing.
Careful,my subconscious whispers.This is how they sink their hooks into you.
But it’s just one ceremony. A few little prayers.
“It’s time we welcomed our newest recruit!” Temujin calls the group to attention. “Let us lift up our voices in praise.”
Inkar squeezes in beside me, pulling a far less eager Chanar behind her. Though he doesn’t outright scowl at me, so I suppose that’s progress.
“This is so exciting,” she gushes as the group breaks into song. We sing praise after praise to the Lady of the Sky and each one tickles my tongue like sweet honey wine. Familiar and comforting, like the song Temujin sang at Orbai’s healing.
After singing, we pass around prayer dolls and offer up collective supplications and oblations. There are lengthy prayers and vorkhi offerings and we circle the fire too many times to count. It’s both calming and invigorating. Solemn and exultant. So much better than the stale prayers and cold idols at Ikh Zuree.
I keep catching Temujin’s eyes on me, sparkling in the strange cerulean light. Itold you you’d like this,he mouths across the fire.
I roll my eyes and try to flatten the smile on my lips.
At the conclusion of the final prayer, Temujin hops up on a boulder and shouts, “Bring the urns!”
A few Shoniin dash off and return from the Temple of Serenity bearing two of the massive urns, one made of coral, the other obsidian. They set them near the bonfire, so the flickering light snakes through the intricately carved images of horses and warriors.
“We cannot welcome new comrades without first acknowledging those who came before us,” Temujin says. “Those who fell so we might be.” A hush settles over the group, and Temujin begins reciting one of the oldest legends of the First Gods. A tale I haven’t heard in so long, I’d almost forgotten it entirely. “In the beginning, there was only the Lady of the Sky—blue and vast and boundless. She ruled over all the earth, for there was no mountain She did not crest, no valley She did not sweep. Yet the Lady had no arms to reach down from the clouds, no hands to till the barren wastes below. And so She waited, watching, for someone worthy to bear Her mantle of starlight.
“Eventually there came a handsome youth, named Guzan, with hair that flowed like a river and skin as gold as sand. He was clad in vines of the brightest leaves, and globeflowers sprang up beneath His feet. The Lady of the Sky fell in love with Him on sight, and through their union, She bore flowers and trees, gurgling streams and crystal lakes. And, eventually, people.
“But the Lady of the Sky was never meant to love a being of the land,” Temujin continues, “and as a result, the children She bore had the weight of boulders and were fixed to the earth with deep roots that snaked beneath the soil. Even man, when he perished, was trapped beneath the loamy dirt. Bound forever to their father.
“Father Guzan saw how lonely the Lady of the Sky was, how She tried to reach out to Her children with light and warmth and rain, helping them thrive and grow, so He took pity on Her. He began burning the bodies of the dead, allowing their ashes to float up to the heavens and reunite with their mother. And, in turn, She made them into stars, so they could shine down on their father. The perfect balance.”
Temujin reaches into the black urn, extracts a pinch of ash, and throws it over his shoulder. “Be humble, for you are made of earth. Be noble, for you are made of stars,” he intones reverently.
