Rift in the Sky by Julie E. Czerneda

allowed them by the Oud sounded like distant rain. She licked dry lips. “It’s too great a risk. Tikitik trade. Oud do. Clans never have. We’d be ignoring the Agreement. It wouldn’t be safe.”
    Oh, he’d been thinking, behind those perfect shields. His face lit up as if she’d already agreed to . . . what? “We start too small for the Oud or Tikitik to notice. I’d go to Amna with Tai. He remembers where. A coat for a basket of fish, from someone he trusts. That’s all. Gradually work up to more.”
    The Tikitik, splashing through the darkness on their beasts, ready to trade, insistent on amounts and compensation. The Oud, with their compulsive lists of everything, not only what they themselves needed. “There may be nothing too small to notice.”
    â€œYou may be right. But—Aryl, it’s best we do something and soon.”
    â€œWhy?”
    â€œBecause—” his voice roughened, “—not all of us are Yena. It wasn’t unheard of for a Tuana to try and take what wasn’t hers. Nor a Grona. With this Talent you’ve given us, nothing is beyond reach.”
    Enris was serious. The hairs rose at the back of her neck. He thought Om’ray capable of this.
    â€œAsk Naryn, if you don’t believe me. You saw the children. Today it’s a game. Tomorrow? We need an outlet for the adults who won’t be playing. They’ll take risks. They’ll push the limits of their Power. Without Passage as a challenge?” Enris lifted both hands. “Trade with a hint of danger. It might be enough for some.”
    Cetto d’sud Teerac had feared it, so long ago. His words welled up in memory and Aryl shared them. “To be able to have a thing in your hands, without climbing for it? How long before it becomes the ability to take a thing, without right to it?”
    â€œA wise Om’ray.”
    Aryl shook her head. “I see a better future.”
    I know. Enris touched her cheek, sent a rush of affection . “Just keep in mind some of us who don’t always look where we’re going.”
    He spoke to her Yena-self, well aware what she’d take from it.
    That some would fall.

    The stone of pavement and bridge, the jagged arch and plunge of bare rock, gave way at the head of Sona’s valley to ruin and riotous growth. The Oud had done this, Aryl thought. They’d heaved corpses and buildings and gardens into a mound to dam the mighty river; dug a pit into the depths to divert its source, the sky-touching waterfall beyond; and refused to share more than a trifle. Even now, she didn’t know why.
    A curiosity she’d leave to others.
    â€œOur waterfall.” Enris nodded to where a single metal pipe cracked the paving of the roadway at the base of the mound, aimed down the valley. By chance or Oud design, the gush of water coming from it splashed on a tilt of rock that directed it to the side, where it disappeared into the chasm of the river’s original course.
    Though the water came out with force, Enris could touch the top of the pipe with an upraised hand. Their share. Compared to the abundance that roared down the cliff and sent spray into the clouds? As well call a sigh the M’hir. “They can’t mean this to be all we get,” Aryl said, as much to herself as her Chosen. “Their Speaker agreed we’d have more than the Oud.”
    â€œMore than. Less than. Past that, who knows what they mean?” But he didn’t move immediately, instead shading his eyes and staring at the mound. She felt the distance between them she’d learned was her Chosen lost in thought.
    â€œWhat is it?”
    â€œNothing.” Enris looked self-conscious. “A notion.” With that highly unsatisfactory response, he began to climb the slope, boots crunching bone. Impossible not to step on remains, though Aryl tried to move lightly over the loose material. The rock hunters, able