Rift in the Sky

It wouldn’t, Aryl judged, hold a biter’s weight, let alone hers. There was only one thing to do, despite who might be watching. She concentrated . . .

... with admirable presence of mind, Yuhas grabbed her as she staggered at the brink. She wrenched free, already running to Enris.

There. On his knees, supporting a crumpled figure. Yuhas, having followed, lifted the light.

Naryn?

Her friend lay as pale and still as Myris, as death. Aryl reached, unsurprised to find Enris already there, pouring his own strength into Naryn. She dropped down beside them, took hold of Naryn’s hand and did the same. What happened?—unsure if she asked about Naryn, the dam across the river, or the hole.

The memory Enris immediately shared answered it all.

The ground roaring and lifting! Naryn, throwing Power into one incredible effort. A rain of dust and dirt and pebbles on the wall, coating it in a thick layer. More Power, to push and push at dirt until it packed every crevice and space. Everything she had.

Until she had nothing left for herself.

FOOL! Aryl sent, furious. Her hands were shaking as she stroked Naryn’s arm, tried to replace the lock of red hair that had escaped from its net to lie with horrifying limpness along the other’s cheek. Don’t leave me.

“She won’t. We were in time.” Enris eased his position, so Naryn’s head rested against his chest. “She’s recovering.”

He was in little better shape, drenched with sweat, panting with effort. Aryl sent strength to her Chosen, too, along with a snap of annoyance. “This would be your fault.”

“Oh, yes.”

“And when the Strangers look at their vids? See Om’ray moving rocks the size of buildings through the air?” When they see her ’porting out of a hole, Aryl added to herself with an inward wince. “What then?”

Under worry for Naryn, a definite flavor of smug. “They won’t see a thing till firstlight. And then? It’s the work of our helpful Oud neighbors, of course. What else could it be?”

Meaning Marcus was involved. She would never, Aryl vowed, leave Enris alone with the Human again. Ever. Then the enormity of what he’d done—what they’d done—sank in. “You’ve stopped the river.”

“With Naryn’s help.”

“She almost killed herself.”

Just to her, as grimly as she’d ever felt him.

I’m sure that was the idea.

If staring could move water, Aryl thought, amused, then the ditch would already be full. They’d all taken turns here, beside where the wide pebble-filled ditch scooped out the riverbank. It had been a curiosity before: easy to see from the exposed side, if less to imagine how it might work.

Firstlight and, at last, water lipped the bottom line of white pebbles, turned them dark, covered them. Rose to the next. Gurgled along. All down the bank, Om’ray—who’d laid on their bellies to lean over and watch, cheered and patted one another. Warmth and affection surged from mind to mind. A tinge of awe.

As if Enris needed any encouragement. Aryl leaned against him. “It worked,” she commented, gazing out at the rippled surface of what was, undeniably, becoming a lake. Only firstlight, but water filled the former riverbed from bank to bank, lapping gently against the wall of stone and dirt. “If it overflows into the courseways, the Oud will complain.” She wouldn’t. The courseways flowed first through the dead grove of nekis. Watered, perhaps they’d grow again.

“It won’t. The ditches from Sona drain back into the river below the dam and before the courseways.” Brimming with content, Enris wrapped his arms around her middle and pulled her into his lap. The sun was warm on her skin. The lake made the air softer, somehow.

The lake was deep. A new worry. She’d been in water over her head before. “We’ll have to warn the young ones.”

His deep laugh vibrated through her spine and he nuzzled her hair. “Tai can teach everyone to swim.”

“Not me,” Aryl countered, then had to smile. His joy was impossible not to share. “If he can convince Husni—I suppose I’ll have to.”

Husni. The other elders. She needed to talk to them all today, find some answers about the Cloisters, resolve what to do with Oran. She shifted, loath to move, no longer at peace.

Or was it something—someone? With very poor—make that no shields. Aryl frowned. WORRY . . . WORRY!

“Hello, Aryl. Enris.” With a bright smile that fooled no one, Seru dropped down beside her. Ezgi didn’t even try to smile. He sat, crossed his legs, and began digging morose little holes in the dirt.

“Cousin,” Enris greeted him with that “why are you bothering me?” tone he usually saved for his little brother.

There’s a problem, Aryl sent privately.

We were enjoying a moment alone. Of course there’s a problem.

She elbowed his ribs, gently. “Seru, what is it?”

She didn’t expect Seru’s green eyes to fill with tears, or for her cousin to wail, loudly: “Naryn’s b-baby—!!” WOEFEARGRIEF!