Free The Obsidian Temple by Kelley Grant Page B

And lastly, we await the Guardians, who will shelter and protect those who weave, those who ground, and those who dance.”
    Sulis felt overwhelmed, realizing that all these ­people were awaiting a prophecy that she’d never heard of.
    â€œThe prophecy is hundreds of years old, foretold by a northern Vrishni shortly after the sundering.”
    Sulis nodded, wondering what part the One wanted her to play.
    â€œYou are not the Weaver,” her grandmother whispered. “Nor are you the Loom.”
    Sulis glanced at her grandmother quickly, then back to the front, frowning, wishing she could block her grandmother from reading her thoughts.
    â€œYou will support, as others have supported you through the years,” Grandmother said in her ear. “It will be a bitter pill for you. But it will be the making of you.”
    Sulis turned her attention forward again as the temple master approached Ava. “Who sponsors this child?” she asked, and Master Anchee stepped forward.
    â€œI do. She has proven worthy,” he said.
    â€œIf called by the One, are you willing to serve with whole heart, keeping your ser­vice silent and holding her secrets close?” the temple master asked Ava.
    â€œYes,” Ava said. “I want to serve.”
    â€œThen come, child, place your hands on the sphere and know if you have the calling,” the master gestured.
    Ava confidently stepped and placed her hands on the softly glowing sphere. It flared, bathing all in golden light. From the center of the light, Ava’s voice shouted triumphantly.
    â€œI am the Loom!” her voice called, an otherworldly undertone making her voice carry through the hall.
    The crowd around Sulis gasped, then erupted in whispers. They stilled as Ava continued.
    â€œThe Weaver has been found. The three Shuttles are here with you. It has begun. It has begun!”
    The temple master caught Ava as her knees gave out, and set her gently down, placing her head between her knees as the golden light dimmed.
    Many ­people in the crowd prostrated themselves on the floor, as others hugged each other, and still others put their heads in their hands and wept. Sulis gazed around with bemusement, noticing that Grandmother and Master Anchee did not seem surprised.
    The temple master raised her hands, stilling the crowd. “Obviously, there is much still to be done. This is a blessed but unexpected event, and we will need to discuss what is to come. These travelers must continue on tomorrow to begin the training that will allow them to fulfill their roles. Tonight will be a celebration. Retire to the dining hall while I speak to our newest initiates.”
    The hall emptied quickly and loudly as ­people fled, eager to begin gossiping about the events. Grandmother and Master Anchee converged on the temple master and Ava, and Sulis reluctantly followed, not wanting to be any closer to the gruesome statues than necessary.
    Master Anchee flopped down unceremoniously beside Ava and put an arm around her shoulders, a look of satisfaction on his face. “Good handling of the crowd, Sari,” he told the temple master.
    â€œYou might have warned me,” Sari said dryly. “We’re lucky our initiates have discipline. We might have had a riot.”
    â€œI wasn’t certain myself,” Anchee said. “I expected the Loom to be from the desert. Joisha told me she’d suspected it was Ava, but I had a hard time believing it until she took to the sacred language like it was her own tongue.”
    â€œWhat did she mean, the Weaver has been found?” Sulis asked, still staying away from the statues.
    Ava raised her head. “I don’t know. The words just came to me. She is out there, somewhere.”
    â€œShe?” Sulis asked.
    Ava scrunched her nose up. “Yeah. The Weaver is a she. And she’s up north, but protected.”
    Grandmother reached into her white cloak, drawing out a message.