Rift in the Sky

He understood the astonishment in her voice. Deserved it. “I never thought you were stupid,” he said finally. “I’m—”

Don’t you dare pity me! With sufficient fury to sting.

Clear enough. “What do you mean by ‘something else’?”

Naryn went to one knee in the pebbles, brushing them aside to expose the hard-packed dirt beneath. “This is what I mean.”

The rest stood around, at a distance. Naryn appeared not to notice. She did a great deal of that, Enris realized. Being neither Chooser nor Chosen made others uneasy from the start; being quick to take offense and powerful did the rest. Only Aryl was completely comfortable near Naryn.

Then again, she was powerful, too.

“You saw how the Oud used dirt as well as rocks,” she said, looking up with a frown. She pressed with her fingers. The fine-textured stuff was almost like rock itself, but cracked under pressure. “The river didn’t sink into the ground because of this. It’s what we need in the dam.” She stood.

“How can we move it?” Worin asked.

Good question, Enris fretted, scuffing the toe of his boot against the ground. When he pushed something, he could see its size and shape. Touch it. This? How did you push grains too small to see?

“We should have brought shovels.” This, from Cader, brought nervous laughter from the unChosen.

They could dig the dirt, Enris thought bitterly. If they had a thousand times their number, or were willing to become like Vyna, where unChosen toiled deep underground for a lifetime, using blocks of black stone to hold back the molten rock in Vyna’s Heart . . .

We have until firstlight, he sent to Naryn. The Human protects us from their eyes until then.

“I see.” Beneath, disapproval. Aryl had said Naryn no longer tried to convince her to avoid Marcus; it didn’t mean a change of opinion. “Then it should be done now.” And she walked away.

No, not away. Naryn followed the course of New River, away from the wall but staying in the middle of the original riverbed. Into the dark. Alone.

He sensed when she stopped.

Get out of my way.

Power built. Raised the hairs on his arms. “Go!” he shouted, waving his arms at the unChosen. He grabbed Worin by the shoulder and shoved. “Up the bank. Hurry!”

When Fon hesitated, staring back at Naryn, Josel and Netta took his arms and carried him.

Power. No one could be deaf to it. He could barely breathe through it. Enris threw himself to the top of the bank and whirled around. “Naryn!”

For Aryl’s future.

The ground roared.

Chapter 5

DUST AND SOOT SHIVERED from the rafters above. As the floor trembled and Om’ray cried out in surprise, Aryl pulled out the device Marcus had given her. Nothing. Not Oud, she sent, making sure it reached everyone, knowing that was their first fear.

The trembling stopped, ending her next one. The Grona had shared memories of shaking mountains and, while Aryl didn’t mind a branch moving under her, she was not happy about the ground doing the same.

“Check the hearth and lamps,” Haxel ordered, mindful of fire when they had no means to fight it.

Aryl!

You’re all right?

Come to the river—quickly.

Aryl ran, hearing the pound of feet behind her. They all came. To her inner sense, Sona moved as one.

None were faster.

Some had grabbed lights. She needed none, ran without regard to the tilted stones or chance of injury. Enris called, and nothing else mattered.

From no lights, to a confusion of them. A wavering line of illumination stretched across the empty river. There were gaps. As Aryl came closer, a light winked out, then another. Then more.

Enris!

“Down there!” A shout. It wasn’t her Chosen, whose mind was preoccupied. Worin. He met her at the river’s bank. “They’re on the other side.”

Other side of what? Then Aryl’s eyes adjusted. As more Om’ray came up beside her and raised their lights, it became clear.

Enris’ idea.

If she wasn’t so alarmed by his call, she’d have been impressed by the wide wall of rubble. As it was, the wall—and the dust cloud above it—were in her way. Enris!

Here. Look out for the hole.

What hole? Aryl ran down the bank, one arm back for balance. Ran farther down than she remembered, the footing softer. Wrong. Her feet began to slide more than step. Suddenly, she found herself lower than Enris.

The “hole,” she told herself in disgust, unable to slow until she came to its bottom. Dust filled her mouth and nose. She sneezed and spat. Why was there a hole?

A light from above—from the river’s bed. Yuhas held a lamp out to show her that side of the hole, then shrugged helplessly. “No rope.”

And a rope it would take. For the hole was a pit, three Om’ray deep, running as far as the light showed, possibly all the way across the riverbed. The material of its sides was a fine dirt, laced with pebbles still dropping and rolling around her.