Rift in the Sky

VYNA WAS AN ISLAND of black rock within an encircling mountain, like a rough-edged seed inside a pod. Sturdy bridges connected the two, but the water between—

Aryl drew back from the edge, pulled Naryn with her.

—the water was vile. A musk of rot, like that of the Lay Swamp, but what she’d glimpsed through the billowing mist suggested nothing as natural. Its smooth surface glistened like metal, flaring purple and red when disturbed.

And it was being disturbed.

SPLASH!

A surge of motion, hints of stars against darkness, and the curved back—or whatever—of the rumn disappeared below again. They, at least, were enjoying the rain of rock hunters.

And other things. As their feet hit the platform beyond the Cloisters bridge—a crossing the normally height-wary Tuana had managed at a run, cries echoed behind them in the mist, desperate and horrified.

Enris sighed.

Aryl tried not to feel as the Vyna caught in their floats died.

The next SPLASH was followed by a hideous, drawn-out scream from overhead. “Esan!” Enris shouted to be heard over it. “It’s the Tikitik!”

Which makes no sense at all, Aryl sent, not straining her voice. Why would Tikitik attack the Vyna?

Though their method was effective, if wasteful. Vyna rose in a great vertical spiral, low-walled ramps wrapped around its core of buildings like a wing around dresel pods. Most rocks bounced off walls or rooftops into the water. Those that arrived on ramps or skidded against an edge began a slow grind and roll away from water to the safety of shadows. Since Vyna had almost no doors, most of those shadows were inside their buildings. She’d already watched several rock hunters roll through a nearby arch. It would take time for the Vyna to find and remove every one, time when they’d be wise not to fall asleep or leave babies untended.

Unfortunately, the rumn remained at the surface, attracted by the splashes. Impossible to tell if they ate the rocks or merely milled around in hope of more tender flesh. The effect was the same. The M’hir remained impassable.

As long as the rocks kept falling, the bridges—though wide and perfectly safe, in her opinion—were, too.

Mist billowed downward again, propelled by something above. Another, more distant scream.

Aryl looked up. They’d taken what shelter they could beside a wall. “I can’t see it,” she complained. Enris had shared his memories of immense size, claws, and unusual wings, but with woefully inadequate detail—being more interested in the ground below at the time.

“Good,” he asserted, back against the wall. “Trust me, if you could, you’d be too close.”

Aryl made a noncommittal noise. She wanted to see one. Especially in flight.

“No more running,” Naryn said weakly, and eased herself to the ground. She let out a small moan. Immediately, a trio of rocks that had been aiming at a shadow changed to tilt in her direction. Aryl kept her eye on them. They’d be easy to push into the water—it was how close she dared get to the water to do the pushing that was the problem.

She could see one feeding pile of rocks; the unfortunate Vyna beneath hadn’t made a sound. Doubtless the mist hid more. Those out in their floats had fared the worst. The rest of Vyna—she reached—most sheltered deep in their island or stayed within the Cloisters. Had the Councillors and Adepts noticed their Clan was under assault, or were they still huddled over their prize?

Would their metal doors hold?

More screams from an unseen creature. Another series of rocks clattered to the pavement, to stop and begin to roll toward them.

“Is it me,” Enris asked mildly, “or are they starting to aim them at us?”

Whether they were or not, Aryl thought grimly, there were too many rock hunters nearby for comfort. “Maybe they’ll run out.”

“We could go back to the . . .” Naryn’s voice faded in and out. “Aryl . . . I . . .”

You wore the pendant here, didn’t you? Fool.

“Naryn?” Aryl knelt by her, put an anxious hand on her sweat-chilled brow. Naryn? What did you say? Why the pendant? She hadn’t told anyone, not even Enris, what the Oud had said. It had made no sense, anyway, babbling about Tikitik counting all life, waving a pendant and token at her.

I said you were a fool. Are you mind deaf, too?

Not Naryn. Aryl glared at the rock hunters, who, being noticed, pretended to be a natural heap of rocks in the middle of perfectly smooth pavement. She reached.

Naryn’s mind was closed behind her strong shields, other than a whisper-thin presence. She saved her strength, was close to unconscious.

And was not alone.

Of course she’s not alone! Now get me out of here.

Aryl rocked back on her heels. “Enris?”

“I heard.” He came to Naryn’s other side. All around, the splash and clatter of rocks being dropped.

The sendings were powerful.

More than that, Aryl realized with dismay.