possibility of anything like it. And as a mature naitan with well-established magic, Kallista should not have been able to do it. No naitan had more than one gift. Sometimes the gift manifested itself in different ways, like Iranda being able to both light and burn, but it was always the same gift.
“No?” Uskenda raised a gray-streaked eyebrow. “Are you saying you didn’t just single-handedly wipe out an army?”
“That’s not—” Kallista came to hard attention. “No, General. The enemy was destroyed by magic, and I did cast the magic. But—” She tried to keep her voice from sounding as distraught as she felt, but feared she failed. “I don’t know what it was that I did—other than casting the magic—and I don’t know how I did it.”
The general hmmphed again, staring at her as if she could tell that Kallista kept secrets. “Very well. Maybe the naitani at the temple will know. Report for investigation.”
“Now?”
“Of course now.” Uskenda’s scowl actually made Kallista shiver. “Do you think I mean next week? You decimated the Tibran army, you didn’t annihilate it. With their ships foundered, they’re trapped here. We’ve still got a city to defend. Our numbers might just be close to even now. If we can pin them here, keep them from shifting their cannon up the coast to Kishkim, where they’ve got another damn army but not so many cannon, maybe we can keep them from taking Kishkim and Ukiny. We need to know what you did and whether you can do it again.”
“Yes, General.” Kallista saluted and departed for the Mother Temple, Torchay shadowing her. She was so tired she could barely stand, much less walk straight, but General Uskenda was right. They weren’t out of danger.
Torchay took her arm, supporting her, though she knew he had to be at the end of his strength as well. “You need to rest,” he said. “Not answer a load of unanswerable questions.”
“I’m fine.” Kallista would have blamed Torchay’s insubordination on their “friend” conversation yesterday, save that he’d always been on the insubordinate side. Especially when it came to generals. She saved her breath for walking and keeping her eyes open.
Ukiny was large enough to have three temples. Two devoted themselves primarily to education and healing, though they also served their areas as worship centers. The other was the first temple in the city, the Mother Temple. It provided education and healing like the others, as well as local administrative needs. It sat in the center of a vast four-petaled square in the oldest section of Ukiny.
The worship hall, the central portion of the building, soared high above the more utilitarian sections. Tall arched windows of colored glass were set into white stone walls that hardly seemed the same material of which the city fortifications were built. Though Kallista hadn’t been inside the Mother Temple yet, she knew that corridors would lead from each of the four entrances to the sanctuary in the center. Every temple in Adara was built to the same plan, whether in the smallest village or the capital city.
Rooms to either side of the corridors conducted temple business; healing to the east, schools on the north, administration and records, including the city’s birth, death and marriage records in the south. To the west, the direction from which they approached, the rooms served as the temple’s library and archives. Centuries of records were stored in the rooms to either side of the black marble corridor they traversed.
The priests of each temple formed their own ilian—bound as mates by holy oath—and lived in a big house across the southern plaza from the temple. She’d been raised in such a house with a dozen parents and half a dozen sedili, her sisters and brothers in the ilian who were close in age. Memories swarmed Kallista’s mind as they entered the sanctuary. She was too tired to keep them at bay. She’d run tame with her sedili in the temple
“No?” Uskenda raised a gray-streaked eyebrow. “Are you saying you didn’t just single-handedly wipe out an army?”
“That’s not—” Kallista came to hard attention. “No, General. The enemy was destroyed by magic, and I did cast the magic. But—” She tried to keep her voice from sounding as distraught as she felt, but feared she failed. “I don’t know what it was that I did—other than casting the magic—and I don’t know how I did it.”
The general hmmphed again, staring at her as if she could tell that Kallista kept secrets. “Very well. Maybe the naitani at the temple will know. Report for investigation.”
“Now?”
“Of course now.” Uskenda’s scowl actually made Kallista shiver. “Do you think I mean next week? You decimated the Tibran army, you didn’t annihilate it. With their ships foundered, they’re trapped here. We’ve still got a city to defend. Our numbers might just be close to even now. If we can pin them here, keep them from shifting their cannon up the coast to Kishkim, where they’ve got another damn army but not so many cannon, maybe we can keep them from taking Kishkim and Ukiny. We need to know what you did and whether you can do it again.”
“Yes, General.” Kallista saluted and departed for the Mother Temple, Torchay shadowing her. She was so tired she could barely stand, much less walk straight, but General Uskenda was right. They weren’t out of danger.
Torchay took her arm, supporting her, though she knew he had to be at the end of his strength as well. “You need to rest,” he said. “Not answer a load of unanswerable questions.”
“I’m fine.” Kallista would have blamed Torchay’s insubordination on their “friend” conversation yesterday, save that he’d always been on the insubordinate side. Especially when it came to generals. She saved her breath for walking and keeping her eyes open.
Ukiny was large enough to have three temples. Two devoted themselves primarily to education and healing, though they also served their areas as worship centers. The other was the first temple in the city, the Mother Temple. It provided education and healing like the others, as well as local administrative needs. It sat in the center of a vast four-petaled square in the oldest section of Ukiny.
The worship hall, the central portion of the building, soared high above the more utilitarian sections. Tall arched windows of colored glass were set into white stone walls that hardly seemed the same material of which the city fortifications were built. Though Kallista hadn’t been inside the Mother Temple yet, she knew that corridors would lead from each of the four entrances to the sanctuary in the center. Every temple in Adara was built to the same plan, whether in the smallest village or the capital city.
Rooms to either side of the corridors conducted temple business; healing to the east, schools on the north, administration and records, including the city’s birth, death and marriage records in the south. To the west, the direction from which they approached, the rooms served as the temple’s library and archives. Centuries of records were stored in the rooms to either side of the black marble corridor they traversed.
The priests of each temple formed their own ilian—bound as mates by holy oath—and lived in a big house across the southern plaza from the temple. She’d been raised in such a house with a dozen parents and half a dozen sedili, her sisters and brothers in the ilian who were close in age. Memories swarmed Kallista’s mind as they entered the sanctuary. She was too tired to keep them at bay. She’d run tame with her sedili in the temple
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