Rift in the Sky

Everywhere, Om’ray. Leaning on the platform wall to admire the view, conversing in quiet voices or none at all, hurrying or taking their time along the stone roadway that followed the lake’s far edge and led to the villages beyond. Peace. Prosperity. Happiness.

Long ago and gone.

Aryl pulled free of Anaj’s memories to see her Sona.

The lake was an expanse of small pebbles, here and there drifted in dust, streaked by late-day shadow. The roadway was cracked and heaved. Nekis grew, stunted and alone. The Cloisters squatted in the dirt.

And Om’ray huddled in fear.

What went wrong? The Old Adept asked, drawn by her thoughts, sharing what she saw. What did we do?

We changed, Aryl told her.

The Oud, as she expected, had humped itself away from the opening door. Syb had slipped through first, Yena-fashion, but their care wasn’t necessary. It had moved off the platform completely, to wait below.

Be wary near the Oud. She’d felt Enris remind the others, warn them back. He, of course, stayed with her. They were one, always.

No vehicle this time. The Oud Speaker had surged up through the ground, leaving an open wound coated with whirr/ clicks. Urgency or carelessness? Neither boded well.

Aryl walked down the ramp to meet it. The instant her feet touched the dirt, it reared to speak. “Why Sona less!? Where is!? WHERE IS!? Why? Where? Why?”

The empty village. So it did watch them, somehow. Stupid creature. The other truenight, they’d gathered to give their names to Sona and remember Tuana’s dead. It hadn’t been upset then—or had it tried to find her, to express that opinion? She thought it approved of their ’porting. “We’re here,” she assured it, puzzled. “In the Cloisters.”

“NONONO!” It swayed from the top, side to side. “LESS-LESSLESS! Where? Why?”

“Here. Inside,” Aryl insisted. “There’s nothing to worry about. Sona—”

“Aryl!” Haxel jumped down from the platform wall to land bent-knee beside her. “We’ve company,” as she straightened, pointing toward the cliff. The Oud reacted by dropping to the ground. It ran backward a short distance on its little legs before it stopped.

Aryl looked up. From this distance, the shapes clinging to the massive rock face behind the Cloisters appeared small and insignificant. Fronds, opening to the sunlight. Wastryls, waiting for heat. As if they’d waited to be noticed, they began to fall toward them.

Enris gave a grim laugh. “Getting crowded, isn’t it?”

Esans. They circled overhead, descending slowly, growing larger. She counted five . . . more. They carried baskets, not that she’d thought they’d come alone.

One let out its shuddering scream, answered by another. Steady! she sent quickly to the others, driving her own fear down until she felt only calm certainty. The confrontation would be now, before they’d been able to return everyone to their Clan. There was no choice.

“They’ve come to talk to me,” she told Haxel, who gave her a stare of disbelief.

Not to drop more rock hunters? Enris asked. I’d like to be sure about that, since we’re standing out in the open.

No.

Not that they were in any sense safe.

Some of the esans tried to land in the surrounding nekis grove, but the too-slender branches and stalks cracked under their weight. They rose again, screaming, to join their more experienced fellows who hovered above the dirt to let their passengers climb out. Aryl and Enris shielded their eyes against the dust generated by the huge paired wings. Haxel squinted, as if determined to see all she could. The Oud Speaker scurried back and forth, back and forth, kicking up its own cloud, half sinking into the ground.

Clean clothes and a drink of water. Time. That above all she needed and couldn’t have. Aryl spat to clear her mouth and waited.

The esans lifted away and headed back to the cliff. Thought Travelers appeared out of the settling dust, their blue-black skins losing color with each step until they stood before her like clouds themselves.

Silence, except for the rapid clatter of the Oud’s limbs, the slither of stones across its body and cloak. The thing appeared frantic.

Sona’s neighbor.

Useless creature, Aryl thought in disgust. “Stop that!” she told it, to no effect.

A rock thudded off its back. The Oud slid to a stop and reared, facing the wrong way. After an instant’s hesitation, it bounced in place, flesh shaking, limbs loose and clicking together, each bounce turning it slightly. Until it faced her. “WHATDO-WHATDOWHATDO?”

Aryl glanced at Enris, who gave a charming shrug and dusted his hands.