Rift in the Sky

But even as he formed the locate . . . No. Stay. Protect the others. With reassuring calm. Naryn and I will handle this. That, not calm at all.

His hands were fists. Enris made himself relax. Protect the others. She was right.

“You paying attention?” Haxel asked. “Council’s agreed.”

“Move everyone back,” he warned. Everyone but those he’d picked for this task: Worin and Fon, Kran and Netta. UnChosen and young. They were nervous, not afraid. We can do this, he told them, believing it.

Though he couldn’t have explained why.

Once the M’hiray had climbed to the uppermost ledges, Enris and the others positioned themselves on the lowest. “Those first,” he said, pointing to the crates of rattlers. An easy start that rid them of a potential threat.

Power surged from all four. Stacks of crates rose in the air. Disturbed, the creatures made their rattling sound. “Don’t drop them,” Enris advised mildly.

Worin made a face, but concentrated.

Stack by stack, the crates were carefully placed across the opening.

“Now.”

He’d shown each what to move. Worin and Netta displaced the supports within the opening. Kran and Fon raised a mass of rubble into the air and flung it at the crates. While Enris concentrated, focused . . .

. . . . and dropped the wall above.

As the roar subsided, they grinned at one another, faces covered in dust. Cheers broke out from the others. A swell of pride and relief moved from mind-to-mind. They were safe, Enris thought.

For now.

Haxel jumped down beside him. “Good. The lights still work.”

He squinted at her in disbelief. “You let us do this without being sure?”

“Weth was ready,” with absolute calm. “We’ve oillights.”

Pebbles tumbled; stone continued to groan into place. He cast an eye over the rest of the wall. Some carvings had lost their faces—if those had been faces. A crack snaked upward from where he’d tugged rock out of position. But nothing else appeared ready to fall. Enris ruffled Worin’s dusty hair. “Well done. All of you.”

Coughing, Fon frowned. “What’s to stop the Humans using Power to remove it?”

“They can’t.” Gur had joined them. “Feel the M’hir, unChosen. Do you sense anyone there but us? Of course not. It is ours alone. As for the Humans? Our most Powerful Adepts have reached to their limit. Some open minds, none capable of answering. Humans are lesser beings. The feeble Power of a few is no threat.”

Enris? Quiet. Too quiet.

Beloved. Enris didn’t hide joy or relief. The something loathsome was gone from their link. It had been like a whiff of rotting food . . .

I felt your Power. Familiar curiosity.

We locked the door. Gur claimed Humans were no threat, but he’d felt what one had tried to do. Tell me he’s dead. The Human. To dare touch his Chosen—not only her skin, but her mind. He fought to keep his shields tight.

Peace, Enris. So much for that effort. Naryn’s dealt with the Human. She’s learned what we need to do. Even better, an underlying unease contradicted her words, we know how to influence his mind.

His blood pounded in his ears. You mean control. That’s what he wanted to do. Make you obey him. What were Humans, to conceive of such a thing? The enormity of that trespass—

“What’s wrong?”

He didn’t acknowledge Worin’s question. Couldn’t.

Why isn’t he dead? Enris asked with what remained of his control.

He’ll save the M’hiray. He has no choice. With a bleakness he’d never sensed from her before. We’ve left him none.

Enris shut his mind. Closed his eyes. Wished he didn’t understand.

But he did.

This was the price of their future.

Chapter 5

NARYN’S EYES WERE HALF-SHUT, her face beaded with sweat. Her hair, freed of its net—the M’hiray no longer confined their hair—lashed against the mattress. She was conscious. And impatient. “How long will this take?”

Seru didn’t laugh, but dimples appeared in her cheeks. “As long as it does.” She busied herself rearranging towels.

Aryl perched on the windowsill and poked the senglass with a finger. Still hard. “Nippy outside,” she commented. The transparent stuff responded to its environment as well as the wishes of those inside. As the day warmed, it would open to let through the breezes and whatever smells or sounds Naryn had decided to enjoy. She wasn’t fond of florals.