Rift in the Sky

“We deemed you unfit because of your birth-sib.” The Tikitik held out a hand and turned it palm down. “We observed him fail to adapt.”

Falling felt like this, Enris decided numbly. As if the ground beneath his feet had been ’ported away, leaving him over nothing at all. Words forced themselves through his lips. “You’re telling me you watched my brother die.”

“Yes.”

Enris?? Aryl, alarmed.

Blood pounded in his ears. He couldn’t answer her, dared not.

“Another Mendolar for your entertainment?” Hands balled into fists, Enris advanced on the Tikitik. “Did you laugh at him? Did you?”

Enris!

Instead of retreating, Thought Traveler squatted, knees higher than its head, and spread its arms. “A blow to my neck would cause the most pain,” it advised calmly. “Though if you prefer permanent damage, strike any eye.”

Enris froze.

“We did not laugh when Kiric Mendolar stepped off the bridge,” the Tikitik continued. “That which would survive must be strong. Your brother was. He completed an arduous Passage. He endured the canopy until we believed he would adapt and find a mate, but we were wrong. There are peculiarities in how Om’ray interact with one another that we do not and probably cannot comprehend. We concluded Kiric’s inability to find a Yena mate made it unlikely you could succeed.”

“Wrong again.”

Thought Traveler’s head lifted slightly. “Which does amuse me.”

All four eyes, Enris told himself. Blind it. Then kill it.

I have my knife. Aryl’s pragmatic offer startled him to sanity.

What was he thinking? Kill Thought Traveler for the truth?

Kiric wouldn’t live again.

Om’ray violence here would end any hope of negotiating with the Tikitik.

No.

As much to himself as his fearsome Chosen. More calmly, though I do appreciate your willingness to slit throats for me.

“We’re falling behind,” he told the waiting Tikitik, and turned back to follow Naryn.

Watch your step.

The sending from Aryl came before they caught up to her.

“What—?” Naryn’s foot skidded sideways. Enris lunged for her, only to have his boot sink deep, black mud bubbling over it. Bubbles that released fresh rot.

I told you to be careful.

You call that a warning?

Naryn sent indignantly, pulling free to take a second lurching, sliding step. Her boots sank in as well. After a few steps, the white hem of her Adept’s robe was thoroughly stained. You get to explain this to Oran.

Mild dismay fading as Aryl’s concentration shifted.

No Aryl-sized footprints marred the path ahead. Enris glanced up at the branches and shook his head. “She cheated.”

Thought Traveler passed them, barking good humor, its long-toed feet spread wide and not, Enris noticed, sinking at all.

Leaving him alone with Naryn. “Wait.”

She looked at him, raised one dark-red eyebrow.

Enris dug into his inner pocket and drew out the sleepteach device. “Take this, Naryn. Put it somewhere safe.”

He might have asked her to touch an Oud. “What is it?”

“We don’t have time.” He thrust out the hand with the device. “Keep it safe. And don’t let them see it. Or Aryl,” he added.

If anything, the eyebrow went higher, but Naryn took it in her long-fingered hand. He wondered belatedly where she could put it, but she simply slipped it within what had looked a seam. Why was he surprised? Adepts needed pockets, too.

They were still alone—but not for long, he was sure. Aryl would take what risks she must; he was only as safe as his Chosen. Someone else had to know, be able to use it. He offered his right hand. “Naryn, please,” as she hesitated, her expression strange. “I have to show you how it works.”

She crossed her arms, rejecting any touch. Of course, he realized, chagrined. He’d offered the hand of Choice. Cold, distant. It’s from the Human, isn’t it? Just to him.

Yes. It can teach us their words. If his feet hadn’t been stuck in mud, he’d have bounced from one to the other with impatience. Not a good idea, with Naryn.

Show me, she sent at last.

Enris shared the memory of how the device was used. Not enough, he realized. He lowered his shields to let her feel his conviction , his urgency. Naryn, if anything happens to us, ’port to Sona. Warn them. If the Tikitik come after you, use this. Go to Marcus for help—

Her revulsion hit like a blow. Never!