Rift in the Sky

Aryl slowed her pace. They hadn’t brought packs, only longknives and flasks of water at their belts, a small bag with a gift for Marcus. She eyed the rough rock and dusty paving stones dubiously. “Can’t you wait?”

Enris roared with laughter and swept her up despite her protest. Holding her over his head, big hands easily spanning her waist, he brought her down for a quick kiss, then put her lightly—and now breathless—back on her feet. “Conversation, my wild little Yena. Though” a flash of heat “I’d be a most happy mattress.”

“ ‘Conversation.’ ” Not about Marcus and his healing machine. She hated to disappoint Enris, but this she couldn’t—“You already know what I think—”

“About visiting other Clans?” He took a longer stride, then turned to walk backward, facing her. Fine on a flat stretch. “No, I don’t.”

“Visiting . . . why?” Enris had visited more Clans than any other Om’ray, having been to Yena, Grona, and distant Vyna. Two of the three had almost cost him his life. “We aren’t ready to find others who could learn to ’port.” Mealtimes, around the communal fire, the notion regularly spun itself around, only to waft away like smoke. How could they contain the secret if it spread? What if such Om’ray came to Sona, who couldn’t feed more, not yet? Worst of all, what if they offended the Oud or Tikitik before they could negotiate a change—that word—to the Agreement? “It’s too dangerous.”

“Of course it is.” He almost tripped on a tilted stone and hopped instead. She restrained herself. Far be it from her to dissuade him from being lighter-of-foot. “But we could trade.”

Aryl stopped. Trade was a Tuana concept; she forced aside her Yena aversion for his sake. “Trade what?”

“We’d have to open the rest of the mounds, assess what we could spare. Coats. Baskets. We could hunt for more metalwork.”

They did, she admitted reluctantly, have an overabundance of coats. “And what would we trade for?”

“Food. Tai said Amna catches more swimmers than they can eat—other Clans may have extra. New boots from Grona before next winter. Tools. My father—I’ve heard Rayna does fine metalwork. If we had such tools—and the Oud would build a furnace—I could work metal again. Yuhas is willing to learn the skill. Improve our blades. Replacements! Think of it, Aryl.”

He’d omitted Vyna because its Om’ray rejected contact with any others. He’d omitted Yena because . . .

Because, Aryl thought sadly, her former Clan had nothing left.

She started walking again. He fell in beside her. “Well?”

They crossed one of the arched bridges. Echoes fooled the senses; the insignificant trickle of water allowed them by the Oud sounded like distant rain. She licked dry lips. “It’s too great a risk. Tikitik trade. Oud do. Clans never have. We’d be ignoring the Agreement. It wouldn’t be safe.”

Oh, he’d been thinking, behind those perfect shields. His face lit up as if she’d already agreed to . . . what? “We start too small for the Oud or Tikitik to notice. I’d go to Amna with Tai. He remembers where. A coat for a basket of fish, from someone he trusts. That’s all. Gradually work up to more.”

The Tikitik, splashing through the darkness on their beasts, ready to trade, insistent on amounts and compensation. The Oud, with their compulsive lists of everything, not only what they themselves needed. “There may be nothing too small to notice.”

“You may be right. But—Aryl, it’s best we do something and soon.”

“Why?”

“Because—” his voice roughened, “—not all of us are Yena. It wasn’t unheard of for a Tuana to try and take what wasn’t hers. Nor a Grona. With this Talent you’ve given us, nothing is beyond reach.”

Enris was serious. The hairs rose at the back of her neck. He thought Om’ray capable of this.

“Ask Naryn, if you don’t believe me. You saw the children. Today it’s a game. Tomorrow? We need an outlet for the adults who won’t be playing. They’ll take risks. They’ll push the limits of their Power. Without Passage as a challenge?” Enris lifted both hands. “Trade with a hint of danger. It might be enough for some.”

Cetto d’sud Teerac had feared it, so long ago. His words welled up in memory and Aryl shared them. “To be able to have a thing in your hands, without climbing for it? How long before it becomes the ability to take a thing, without right to it?”

“A wise Om’ray.”

Aryl shook her head. “I see a better future.”

I know. Enris touched her cheek, sent a rush of affection. “Just keep in mind some of us who don’t always look where we’re going.”

He spoke to her Yena-self, well aware what she’d take from it.

That some would fall.