Navigators of Dune

As Valya felt a knot of tension tightening inside her, she needed physical exertion to burn off her restlessness. She hiked away from the main school complex and climbed the rugged escarpment of Laojin Cliff, from which old Raquella had threatened to leap if the feuding Sisters did not resolve their differences. Valya had an entirely different kind of resolution in mind now.

Her mind swirling, she made her way up the steep path to the rough training ground at the rocky summit. She could sense danger in the air as the dedicated women took risks.

On the summit a group of advanced Sisters in white robes—all elite daughters of Rossak who carried ancient Sorceress blood—sparred and tested themselves. Most of the Sorceresses had been killed in the long Jihad against the thinking machines, and more had died afterward when Emperor Salvador attacked the old Rossak School. The few remaining Sorceresses in front of her were special assets with strong mental powers, and they trained in ways more rigorous than other Sisters would dare attempt.

They practiced edgy, over-the-top fighting techniques developed long ago in the Rossak jungles, and Mother Superior Valya encouraged them to continue their training so they could instruct other women. In her vision for the Sisterhood, Valya wanted to synthesize many different combat methods into a new way of fighting that no one else could practice. Someday, Valya might find herself pitted against Vorian Atreides. Her lips curved into a grim, hard smile. She intended to be ready.

On the rugged ridge, she also saw three white-robed trainees stationed on ledges below the lip of the cliff. Sister Deborah, a lean and angular Sorceress, stood watching them. “Mother Superior, welcome. Have you come to participate in the exercises?”

“Not today. I just want to observe.” She was still preoccupied with Danvis’s report and hoped the sparring would settle her. Valya stepped close to the precipice to see the Sorceress trainees conducting their hazardous routines near the sheer drop-off. The three Sisters seemed to be showing off for her, engaging in dramatic leaps and practice attacks, landing on narrow ledges. They used nudges of telekinesis to balance themselves on the tiniest spaces.

“Impressive,” Valya said to Deborah, “but these feats are impractical for Acolytes who do not have the Sorceress bloodline or abilities.”

The white-robed woman smiled. “We have a less demanding practice ground on the other side of the slope. Follow me.”

Deborah led her along the crest trail to where a line of Acolytes waited at the verge, ready to tumble down a steep slope. Though it was not a sheer cliff, the practice slope still looked treacherous; this was not just a test of physical ability but agility, balance, and swift reflexes. Valya had undergone this herself, and expected nothing less from her initiates. If a young woman used her training, conditioning, and intelligence during the fall, she would reach the bottom with little or no injury. If not, she would be broken.…

The first two Acolytes had already plunged over the edge, rolling and springing back to balance on the ledges, dodging boulders, and continuing to the bottom as swiftly as they could. Somehow, both trainees managed to survive and even show grace, ultimately landing on their feet at the base of the sheer rock wall.

The third Acolyte, however, experienced trouble shortly after she tumbled over the verge. She made it neatly to the first ledge on the course, then lost her footing when a loose rock broke away. As the trainee tumbled out of control, a Sorceress observer sprang into the air and used telekinesis to cushion and guide her plunge. With her white robe and long, flowing hair, the Sorceress plucked the Acolyte off the slope just as she was about to smash into a jagged rock outcropping. Together, they reached the bottom, where the shaken and bruised Acolyte stood on unsteady feet.

Valya turned to observe the rest of the young women who were lined up for their tests. When she saw the next Acolyte hesitate before throwing herself over the edge, she snapped, “What are you worried about? Your enemy is fear, not the fall. I have ensured that someone will rescue you if you lose control.”

A flush suffused the young woman’s cheeks, and a quick flash of anger lit her dark eyes. “With due respect, Mother Superior, it is the opposite. I cannot experience—and conquer—my fear if I know a Sorceress will swoop in and save me should I fail. I want to face the full risk, so that I can develop as quickly as possible.” She lifted her chin. “Tell them not to help me.”

Valya smiled with surprise. “Mother Superior Raquella said something similar to me once. What is your name?”

“Sister Gabi, Mother Superior.”

Gabi reminded Valya of herself not so long ago—young, brash, and anxious to advance. She raised her voice for all to hear. “This Acolyte is completely on her own for the exercise. No Sorceress is to assist her in the fall—no matter what happens.”