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Seem frowned. The skriba argued in and out of languages she didn't know. "What're they saying?" she whispered.

Divaka's head spun. "It's crazy. All this stuff about you being a girl and how that's dangerous to all the kuan. Meenoch is really mad. But you don't need to know Kug'dar to tell that." He pointed. The skriba was threatening to tear Forbroir's ornamental collar off with his clawing gestures.

"Are holy men allowed to be that mad?"

"I guess." Divaka looked around the circle. "I'm waiting for the spells to fly."

"What's Kug'dar?"

"A really weird offshoot of early Precursor. Some say it's the language of the Metal Heads. Very guttural. It's Meenoch's favorite, I think."

Seem squeaked. "When do I get to learn Kug'dar?"

"I don't know. I wasn't supposed to learn it this early, but since languages are my talent, they let me. I'd sneak into the library and get the books anyway if they didn't." Divaka shut his eyes and tried to concentrate on the words flowing around the room. He didn't often get an opportunity to hear the ancient languages spoken out loud. It was so different from just reading off a dusty scroll.

"How many languages are th-"

The thunderous sounds of Valyder's returning footsteps echoed in the distance. The door burst open. "The kuan sumna," he announced, pushing the aged monk forward in a wheeled chair.

Divaka immediately bowed his head. Seem copied his motion, one eye peeking up at the old man.

The kuan skriba fell silent. Each man bowed. Meenoch jutted his head, glaring.

The High Priest spoke, his voice thin and quavering. Seem noticed that his hands shook more than they had a week ago. She waited for Divaka to translate, but he didn't.

"But what of her womanly powers? When she comes of age, won't she tempt our young kuan?" said Meenoch. "We can't have such enticement running rampant in our temple!"

The kuan sumna replied, pointing to the circle. A few of the skriba nodded.

"What did he say?" whispered Seem.

Divaka thought for a moment. "'She will bind her hair, as we do. She will cover all but her face and hands. There will be no risk of temptation.'"

"I get to wear a cap, too?"

Meenoch stood. "What of the sacred rites? If she is to be a kuan, she must complete each and every one! Can she survive the Jedicht Hora Quan? Can a woman endure the three day Nisstina Kurlu? I think not!"

The High Priest frowned.

Baromah cleared his throat. "An excellent point. Women are much weaker than men. We cannot put her life in danger."

Seem frowned. "Hey-"

Divaka clapped his hand over her mouth. He shook his head at her.

"The times have changed, Baromah," said Valyder. "Women are allowed to plow the fields-"

"Women have no place with the crops," hissed Meenoch. "They have no place in battle- and women definitely have no place in the temple!"

"We can give her a place! And we should wait, Meenoch," said Forbroir. "Those tasks are not for quite a few years. She will prove what she is capable of."

"And waste the temple's resources raising her?"

"We must at least give her a fair chance!" Kastahn turned to Divaka. "Leave us now. You are to tell no one what has happened here." He spoke very quickly in Jai'nai. Divaka nodded, bowed, snatched Seem's hand, and fled the circle.

"Whoa, whoa!" Seem stumbled down the hallway. "Slow down! What's wrong? What's going to happen to me?"

Divaka stopped at the small room filled with sandgear. He pulled on his coat. "C'mon, get dressed. We're going back outside."

"What did Kastahn say?"

Divaka leaned close. "Kastahn has given me a lot of responsibility. I'm to start training you with small things." He pulled her goggles down.

"Ow." Seem rubbed her cheeks where the plastic had scraped them. "What's the hurry?"

"They were about to really start arguing," said Divaka. He looped his coat into his boots. "You don't understand. No one dares to change the way the temple works. Recently a few of the skriba wanted to bring the people back. Hold ceremonies for everyone. But nothing really changes. Plus, everyone's on edge- the wedding is coming up and I've heard the signs are bad. The workload is going to triple in the next few days so we can get everything ready. The temple needs to be cleansed, Meenoch won't let anyone near his sacred texts, and then all the sudden the Precursors drop a sumna a-lal on us. Which-" he waited impatiently as Seem stooped to tuck in the bottom of her robe, "-you cannot tell anyone about. Are you listening to me? It's very important that you don't say anything about what happened."

"I can't get my glove on right."

Divaka sighed. "Just wrap it up in your coat. You won't need gloves." He steered Seem to the door. "Follow me past the wall on the far side of the garden," he said, pulling his scarves around his face.

Seem nodded and pulled a scarf over her mouth. The door flew open and a gust of wind burst into the room. Divaka took her elbow and led her through the garden. They walked sideways so the stinging sand hit their backs. Divaka pushed open a door painted to blend in with the rest of the stone wall. Seem pulled her scarves back as he slammed it shut.

"It's quieter here." Seem looked around. It was a large square plot of sand, surrounded by high walls. A gray shed stood opposite the door.

"This is the practice field." Divaka peeled off his sandgear. "You don't need your coats. The wind never comes in."

Seem wriggled out of her coat. "What're we doing?"

Divaka rubbed his hands together. "One of the very first lessons- Turning the Sand. Or, as we like to say." He grinned and stretched his arms out. "Binnastina!"

Seem giggled at his dramatic pose, then gasped. Sand flew up behind him, flashing in the sun. It hovered, an indistinct shape, threatening to engulf his body. Divaka shut his eyes and strained. The sand reared back and looped around itself, spreading into two great wings.

"Wow!" said Seem. The thick loops knotted and flowed through each other. She shielded her eyes and tilted her head back.

Divaka panted. The wings blurred, then fell. He dropped his arms. "Impressive, huh?"

"Yeah!" Seem raised her arms. "Binna… something!"

Divaka laughed. "You're not ready for anything like that. He walked over to her, brushing off his robe. "Plus, you're not really supposed to use the spell for that kind of thing."

"Aww. But you did!"

Divaka smirked and sat. He patted the sand. "C'mon." She plopped down next to him. "First you have to learn the word. Bin-na-stee-na. If you don't say it right, it won't work."

"Binnastina."

"Right. Stina is the word for sand. Binna is the command. It's a spell, which is different from a prayer. Do you remember why?"

Seem nodded. "Spells are action prayers. Prayers bless. Spells cause things to happen."

"That's right. Binna means something like 'manipulate.' It's a common word, used a lot in the simple spells." He took her hand. "Tilt it like this, so your palm faces the sand. The power you need is in the word itself, but the ability to form the sand comes from you. Say it and concentrate."

Seem nodded. "Binnastina." She held her hand for a moment, then turned it over to examine the sand underneath. "It didn't work."

"Of course it didn't. You have to concentrate on what you want to happen. And don't move your hand halfway through! If you were to do that during a more powerful spell, it could backfire and kill you."

"Eep!" Seem snatched her hand away.

"Don't worry. The worst thing you can do with Binnastina is get sand in your eyes. Give me your hand. Palm down. Now, say it again, and concentrate on forming a little mound. You just want to raise a little."

"Okay." Seem took a deep breath. Just a little mound. She smoothed out the sand and held her palm above it. "Binnastina!"

Nothing happened.

"Binnastina! Binnastina. Binnastina? Divaka, why isn't it working?" Seem glared at the sand.

"Try two hands."

"Binnastina!" Seem squinched her eyes shut and grit her teeth. Work, darn you! Work!

"Hey, hey. You can't cast a spell if you're constipated."

Seem's eyes snapped open. Divaka was biting back a smile.

"Relax. You don't want to burst a blood vessel. Especially in your face." Divaka scooped up some sand. "See this? It's just little tiny pieces of rock and stone. It took thousands and thousands of years to wear down to sand. Threatening it and being mad at it won't do a thing. You have to imagine putting the sand back together. Making it into a whole again. That's what it wants."

"Really?"

"No. It's just sand. But if you want to manipulate it, you have to understand what it is."

"It's sand," said Seem.

"That's right."

"And sand can't move by itself."

"Yep."

"But…" Seem looked at the high walls around her. "The wind can move it."

"Yep."

"Because it's just little tiny pieces…" Seem wiped her hands on her robe and held them out. "Binnastina!"

Divaka lay on his stomach and watched the sand beneath her palms.

"Binnastina!"

The shadow of her hand flickered. Divaka squinted.

"Binnastina!"

A few grains twitched. Seem shut her eyes and tried not to clench her jaw.

"Binnastina!"

The grains lined up and linked together. A thread of sand inched its way toward her palms.

"Binnastina!"

The thread was joined by another and another. The tiny plot of sand writhed like the frayed ends of a cloth. Divaka tilted his head.

"Binnastina!"

The sand twisted and rose. Divaka sat up.

"Binna-oh!" Seem opened her eyes. Her hands rested on top of a tiny mound. "I did it! I did it!"

"Thanks to me you did," said Divaka. He poked the mound. It collapsed.

"But I really did it!" Seem brushed her hands off and wiped her forehead. "That was so much work!"

"It's hard when you first start. Then it gets easy. Then they make you try something new and it gets hard again. How did you do it?"

"I imagined each grain flying up in the air."

Divaka nodded. "That's pretty good. You won't want to do that for higher levels of Binnastina though. After you practice, you'll be able to move bigger chunks of sand."

"When can I make wings?"

"Prolly in a few years."

"Aww… really?"

"Yeah. But only if you practice hard enough. Try again over here."

Seem rolled up the sleeves of her robe and set to work.

Thanks for reading!