Reap the Wild Wind by Julie E Czerneda Page A

wood in one place would be proof.

There was nothing else to do. He lowered his barriers to let his inner sense explore the village, finding the warm lights of his Clan. Without making contact, he couldn’t tell who was family, friend, or acquaintance, but he cared more for privacy. No one was near or approaching.

Good enough. He pulled back into himself, raised his shields, then concentrated.

The tools on the bench began to vibrate.

Blinking away sweat, Enris pushed harder. The bench shuddered, then moved . The legs left gouges in the floor, but when he was done, the bench, with its incriminating wood, was safely out of the way against the far wall.

He retrieved a jar of polish that had rolled off and replaced it, then scattered sand over the gouges, grinding it in with his boot until the marks were no longer obvious. Satisfied, Enris picked up his longcoat and turned off the lights.

    Chapter 5

     
    “T AISAL?” THE DOOR PANEL SHIFTED, as if whoever had come three times already in search of the Adept had lost patience. Shifted, but didn’t turn open. There were firm understandings among Om’ray. Without permission, you didn’t touch a person. You didn’t open a door.

You didn’t enter a mind , Aryl thought numbly.

Unless you must. The words slipped among hers, layered with emotion. Remorse was there, and pity, but over and through all pulsed determination. Do not regret this sharing, Daughter. You’ll need every protection I can give you.

Was the fear drying her mouth hers, her mother’s, or something they now shared? Aryl didn’t look to where Taisal continued to pace, back and forth. She laid her hands on the cool table and moved them in small, light circles. She could feel the wood grain through generations of polish. Tikitik didn’t work thus in wood; they wouldn’t take carvings in trade. No one knew why. “Syb’s at the door,” she said out loud.

Power surged and Aryl pulled her head between her shoulders in reflex. Not directed at her, she realized. “He’ll wait,” her mother stated with confidence. “But we don’t have much time.” You’ve touched the Dark that waits inside us all, Daughter. Seen it. Used your Power within it. Few can.

So it was real. Aryl pressed her palms flat, the old table’s tangible strength a comfort. Where is it? That other place.

Puzzlement. Place? Why do you think it’s a place?

Because she’d sent Bern through somewhere , Aryl almost replied, but quickly buried the thought. Her mother was the Adept. I don’t know what it is , she sent instead.

Taisal’s hands swept up as if gathering air. To touch that which binds us all mind-to-mind is like walking through the rooms of our home. Safe. Understood. To touch the Dark . . . that is to step outside in truenight, without glow or guide. Yes, it holds Power, or is Power manifest. But it holds danger above all. Know this, Daughter. I was caught there once. Part of me remains— lost there with him— The memory of her father was a maelstrom of grief, longing, and emptiness. Aryl gasped, trying to keep them away. Instantly, the emotions vanished behind Taisal’s restored shields.

If that was how it felt to outlive your Chosen, Aryl told herself, it was another reason to die first.

She hadn’t hidden the thought. So your Chosen suffers instead? her mother’s tone was scathing.

He’ll want to die, too! Aryl sent wildly. What’s the point of surviving alone?

Answer me when you have children, came the searing reply. Quickly now. What matters is you are in danger, Aryl. Avoid the Dark. It will call you, tempt you to explore it. The Adepts know the risks, you do not. The Dark is an abyss that will consume your mind if you allow it. Promise me!

Aryl shuddered. Never. I’ll never touch it again.

Be sure, Daughter. I’m not the only Adept Council has watching. The others will know if you do. For now, they’ll believe it was Bern Teerac— the Dark left its touch on him. I felt it.

It