Rift in the Sky

Marcus headed away from Grona and Yena, choosing a path that, to Om’ray sense, led to where the sun dropped out of sight, leaving darkness behind. Mountains passed beneath them, a monotonous landscape of ridges and deep valleys, browns and grays. Rarely, a glistening thread marked what must be a river. Proof, Aryl thought, that the world continued beyond Sona’s waterfall.

Didn’t it?

Uneasy, she turned the bracelet around and around on her wrist.

The proof passed beneath. She could see for herself. The world continued . . .

Didn’t it?

Aryl . . . something’s wrong.

I feel it.

Like a branch with hidden rot, the floor of the aircar suddenly grew soft, untrustworthy. She lifted her feet with a cry.

The air she breathed turned too warm, then too cold.

The Human takes us past the end of the world! Naryn, fear leaking past her control. “Turn around!” she shouted. “Take us home!”

Marcus didn’t look around. “Almost there.”

Aryl had walked away from her kind before this—so had Enris. They’d been able to leave other Om’ray behind, prided themselves on their strength.

They hadn’t gone far enough. Hadn’t gone this far . . .

Too far . . .

“Marcus,” she gasped. “Naryn’s right. You have to take us back.”

“Site Three here.”

Mountains rose beneath them, the sky squeezed downward, there was no room to breathe, no room for them.

Somehow, she managed not to grab for the controls or the Human’s neck. “We—can’t—be here!” Hard to form words. To think. “Turn around!”

He turned then, something rousing in his eyes, a spark. “Aryl? What’s wrong?” Even as the Human spoke, she knew it was already too late . . . another instant . . . any further . . . they would become . . . nothing.

NOOOO!!!!!!!!! the inner scream came from them all. No. It came from outside. It came from everywhere.

She knew that sound.

The M’hir Wind was coming. It blew through the great pipes of the Watchers, set into the mountain. Time for the Harvest. Time for change. She could hear their moaning, feel it through her flesh . . .

Calling her HOME.

Aryl threw herself into the M’hir . . .

Interlude

A LIVE. THAT WAS GOOD. Surrounded by the warm glow of Om’ray. That was better. A head thudded against his chest, small arms wrapped around him, strong enough to threaten his ribs. Aryl. All was right with the world, then. But . . . how?

The Watchers. He’d heard the drums, felt them. Hadn’t he? Had to answer. Hadn’t he?

Enris took a shuddering breath. He didn’t know about the others, but he most definitely hadn’t formed a locate before that desperate ’port HOME.

Which was . . . where?

He cracked open his eyes, careful not to move. There could be branches involved. And heights, knowing his Chosen.

He sighed with relief. A floor. They were on a floor. In a room.

More than a room.

Enris blinked, and the size and platforms formed into sense. Aryl had shown him images of Sona’s Dream Chamber. She must have directed them here, to the safety of the Cloisters.

Where—another blink—they were surrounded by Om’ray.

Too many Om’ray.

Drowning in the glow of his own kind, dizzy with belonging, he closed his eyes and fought for calm.

The world had changed shape.

Someone stirred against him. He stretched back a hand, found a knee that pulled itself away. We’re all right. Naryn, shaken, but aware. And amazed. Do you feel it? The Power here?

Anaj: Speak for yourself, child. I’m not the least all right. What’s going on?

WE LEFT HIM!

Aryl. Hush!

Enris winced. We have company—

WE ABANDONED MARCUS!

He took Aryl’s shoulders; moved her so he could see her face. Oh, he knew that fierce look. It usually preceded an act of spectacularly careless bravery. He tightened his grip. “We can’t help him. Not now. He’s—” Where did someone go, when they left the world behind? He hadn’t understood. None of them had. Human and Om’ray were not the same. The Human’s world wasn’t theirs.

Couldn’t be.

Enris took a deep breath, steadied himself, offered strength to his Chosen. “He’s gone. And we have company.” Then, as if she was as deaf to other Om’ray as Yao. “Look for yourself,” drawing her to her feet with him.

The chamber was meant to hold an entire Clan.

It now did.

Hundreds stood and stared at one another. No one spoke. Shields were slammed tight.

Not any Om’ray, Enris realized with a jolt. Naryn was right. Power. The white robes of Adepts were everywhere. Even those who weren’t shielded their inner selves with confidence.

The fierce look turned to a safer wonder. What’s happened? “I’m the Speaker,” Aryl muttered aloud. “I suppose I have to say something.”

Enris couldn’t help but chuckle. “Good. What, exactly?”

She dug an elbow into his ribs, but the feel of her eased slightly. “I’ll make it up.” With that, Aryl jumped on the nearest platform.