Alta

“But only the Magi know what is truly happening, and I think that none but us suspect, because as you say, people do not want to know,” Kiron reminded her. “And there is only one way to stop them. Someone who is revered by all Altans must speak out. Someone who is trusted by all Altans must tell the truth. And someone whom all Altans know is able to part the curtains of Time must say what lies on the other side of them. In short, the plan is still good, for we need the Winged Ones to be freed, willing to tell what was done to them, and perhaps, willing to say what will happen in the days to come if the Magi are not stopped. Now that they know what the Magi will do to them, once they are in their powers again, I think they will fight to keep from being further abused, and I believe that they will speak out.”

He looked over to Aket-ten, who nodded, slowly. “They were foolish in allowing the Magi access to them before, but I think that they will rebel once they are no longer controlled and drained,” she said. “At least, I hope they will.” Her voice faltered. “But they are only human, and they can still be compelled by fear. I do not know what would be the greater for them, the fear of the Magi or the fear that they will be accused of aiding the enemy by refusing to be used by the Magi. I—”

“They will,” Kaleth said, in an odd, flat tone of voice—a voice which nevertheless had a strange sort of echo to it, as if he spoke from within a cave. It was so odd, in fact, that all of them looked at him in sudden concern.

He was sitting straight up, forearms lying flat along his thighs, eyes staring into nothing. His back was completely ridged, his head up, his feet and legs exactly parallel. It was an oddly familiar pose; Kiron knew he had seen it a hundred times, but where?

The look in Kaleth’s eyes, though—it sent a shiver up his spine. His eyes might be staring into nothing, or apparently into nothing, but they weren’t blank or glazed. Oh, no—Kaleth saw something, something none of the rest of them could see.

“He’s—” Gan began, looking awe-struck.

“Shh!” Aket-ten reached over and clapped her hand over his mouth. “Don’t disturb him!” she whispered urgently. “We must hear all of it!”

“End the need for storms, and the Magi will drain the Winged Ones no longer. In their arrogance, they believe that the Winged Ones are cowed, and will continue to bend their necks to the yoke, but they are wrong. The Winged Ones already are in rebellion; they merely lack the strength to take their rebellion further. When they recover their strength, they will fight. They will bar the door of the temple to the Magi, they will muster their protections, and they will resist all attempts to take them again. And then—and—then—” his voice began to fade, “—then—the paths divide—”

Suddenly, Kaleth blinked, and his entire posture changed; he shook his head slightly, raised one hand to his forehead, and blinked again. “Why are you all staring at me?” he asked, looking puzzled.

Aket-ten let out her breath in a sigh. “Well,” she said, with a nod. “Let me put it this way. You were sitting in the Python’s Pose.”

At first Kaleth looked at her with a smile, as if he thought she was joking. But a moment later, the smile disappeared. “I was?” he asked, incredulously.

She nodded—and so did the rest of them, even Kiron. Now that she had named that posture for what it was, he knew where he had seen that rigid, statuelike pose that Kaleth had taken. In statues, of course, statues of the Winged Ones about to prophesy. So Heklatis had been right! Kaleth had, either through shock or some other means, become a channel for the power to see into the future!

Aket-ten elaborated, while all this went through Kiron’s mind. “Your eyes looked into the depths of time, and your voice told what you saw. We all saw it, we all heard it. You told us that if we can stop the Magi from draining the Winged Ones, then the Winged Ones will fight to keep from being so misused ever again.”

“The—” Kaleth looked at her as if she was mad. And there was, perhaps, a tinge of fear in his voice. He knew exactly what Aket-ten was saying, and it frightened him. “No. But—I never—but I—”

“Yes, you are, and I should know,” Aket-ten said firmly. “I have spent years in the Temple of the Twins, and for many of those years, it was thought that I would have the power that you just displayed.”

Kaleth shook his head dumbly, as Marit took his hand, but Aket-ten was pitiless. “You might as well accept it, for the gods will have their way, whether you are willing or not. You are a Winged One now, Kaleth, and you have the Seer’s Eye. It is a pity you have never been trained, and even more that I do not know how to train you.”

“Why?” Kiron asked, “What difference would training make?”