Metal, he understood. How could anyone control molten rock? The Vyna he’d met hadn’t understood their own technology. There must have been a time when they had, or this wouldn’t exist.
If so, how had they forgotten such ability…?
At the top of the dam, the Tikitik—who climbed better than a Yena, and certainly better than he—squatted comfortably. Enris thought of climbing the dam elsewhere, but it was too much work. And would amuse the creature anyway.
As he neared the top, the head swung on its curved neck to regard him past a bent leg, all eyes fixed. “Where will you go now, Tuana?” One clawed hand stretched out and slowly closed, as if to grasp the world. “Show me your path.”
Enris stepped up and past it, every breath leaving plumes in the cold clear air, tiny clouds above an abyss.
For that’s what he faced.
A landscape that couldn’t exist. No matter how he strained, there were no Om’ray before him, yet his eyes showed him an expanse that began far below, a rolling mauve plain scratched by frozen ponds, immense beyond belief. It ended at the sky, or was the sky’s end.
Impossibly empty.
He found himself sitting beside the Tikitik, hands braced against the rock, as if another step forward would be his last.
“Will you venture forth, Om’ray?” Thought Traveler asked. “Or will you stay where your perceptions guide you? Do you have a choice? I have always wondered what would happen if one of you went beyond your limit. Would you fall to the ground and whimper, disoriented and lost? Or would you adapt? Could you? I do enjoy a puzzle.”
Enris didn’t attempt to answer. “Is there more?” His voice sounded strange. “More to the world than this?”
“An excellent question. Are you sure you can bear the answer? You seem upset.”
As if it hadn’t intended that very result. As if it didn’t watch him for every reaction, every flinch, and savor them all.
He’d learned of other worlds, other suns, other races. He’d learned there was a before, that life had been different from now.
Enris managed to laugh. “Been a while since supper,” he told the creature. “So tell me, Thought Traveler. I’m curious. What is it you don’t think I can bear to know?”
“That the entire universe of the Om’ray is nothing more than a speck upon Cersi. If you flew over it in the grasp of an esan until it fell dead from the sky, you would not reach its end. That if you stood upon one of the Makers and looked down on this world, you would see the mighty works of Tikitik and of Oud, and be sure only two races lived here.”
Wrapping his hands around a knee, Enris leaned back and gazed at the Tikitik, who stared back with all four eyes. “If we are so insignificant,” he said at last, “why does the Agreement include us?”
It surged to its feet with such abrupt violence Enris reached for his knife. But Thought Traveler only stood still, looking down at him. Its head bobbed twice. “The best question of all,” it acknowledged—he thought grudgingly—then barked its laugh. “Stay alive if you can, Enris Mendolar. I enjoy our conversations.”
A familiar scream filled the air and Enris ducked as an esan swooped low. Rather than snatch the Tikitik, the huge beast hovered, wing beats pummeling the Tuana with blasts of cold, dust-filled air, while Thought Traveler stepped into a basket suspended between the claws of the midlegs.
The esan dropped below the dam, all four wings rigid. Had it crashed? Enris jumped to his feet, only to stagger back as the creature reappeared, wings now vibrating. As the basket with the Tikitik rose in front of him, the creature leaned out and shouted, the words barely audible over wind and wing.
“Don’t go home!”
If the world of the Om’ray was a mere speck, why did it take so long to get anywhere?
Enris laughed at his own joke, then stopped. Not that his prey appeared to be disturbed by the sound, but it wasn’t healthy to laugh too much alone. Not when he’d gone the best part of a day without food or drink. Not when he’d been walking in circles trying to find a path to—
Anywhere. Rayna was closest. Rayna would do. There was the small problem of an unclimbable ridge tall enough to pierce the clouds and the other small problem of the storm those clouds were carrying in his direction. And the other small problem of no shelter or vegetation to burn for heat, but…
He did have rocks.
And once he found one that was edible…he turned over the next in the pile. No opening. He tossed it aside and picked up another.
Ah. The work of an instant to shove his knife tip into the slender crack and twist it to break the Hard One apart. It wasn’t neat or efficient. Enris had to pinch his nose as the creature wheezed and died in a mass of goo.
If Thought Traveler hadn’t lied to him, the blue bit was what he should—or was it could?—eat. Enris poked with the knife till he found it. With a resigned shrug, he popped the lump of flesh into his mouth and chewed. Moist. That was good. As for taste? He swallowed quickly, then spat.
If it didn’t kill him, he didn’t care.
The corpse enticed others from their protective stillness. He waited to gather the smallest, then retreated as a boulder half his size rolled ominously close.
No need to be greedy.
He felt remarkably at peace—after all, what faced him was simply walking, albeit a great deal of it. Walking was easy, mindless. No problems to consider, no great decisions to make. Having found food, he should—
DANGER!!!
Enris dropped the rocks and pressed his hands to his head, half stunned by the power of that sending. “What—?”
DANGER!
PAINPAINPAIN
Tuana.
His family.
Without hesitation, without fear, Enris Mendolar threw himself into the M’hir, knowing only where he had to be…
It was like falling, inevitable, powerful, swift—like being caught by a flood and washed down a mountain—it was…
…home.
Enris choked on fumes, strained to see through heavy smoke, moved only to bump into something hard. His hands groped, knew what they found.
Home. His workbench. But why the smoke? Was it the melting vat? “Father?” he shouted, reached at the same time. I’m here!
“Enris?! Look out!”
The floor split underneath and the bench hurtled away. Enris staggered but stayed on his feet.
UP!!! THIS WAY!
DANGER!
PAIN!
FEARFEAR!!!
The floor continued to move!
Enris…this way…
Coughing, he fought to hear that one sending among many. Everyone in Tuana was terrified, fear and pain flooding over any words. This wasn’t just happening under the shop. Not daring to believe what was happening, Enris fumbled his way forward, what he touched made strange, until he found a wall and its shelves. He climbed—anything to get away from the floor.
The ceiling was no longer there. The smoke was less. He made out forms, four, clinging together on what remained of the swaying roof. Knew them. Jumped and grabbed and forced his way across the slanted, broken beams and wood to them.
Worin. Sobbing, mind numb. Enris swept his little brother into his arms, felt his body for injury even as he sent encouragement.
His father. Jorg gripped his arm, pulled them both close. Bad time to come home. But beneath the words, an outpouring of love and relief.
Yuhas and Caynen. No doubt who’d thought of the roof as an escape route. Enris freed one arm to press his hand to the Yena’s wide shoulder. Thank you.