the Yara, and the capacity to Read, isn’t a completely separate thing,” she continues. “I mean, the children in our clan can Read, and they haven’t taken the elixir. Maybe it’s because we were raised to believe in Gaian principles—to be close to the Yara until the day we choose to be one with it—the day of our Rite.”
“Or, it could be because you’ve already got Amrit flowing through your veins. You’re born with the starbursts in your eyes, and didn’t you say the children are better than the elders at Reading? Couldn’t it be from the Amrit your parents took, and not based on beliefs?”
Juneau considers what I said, then shakes her head. “You saw what happened when I started doubting the Yara. I began to lose my gifts.”
“So maybe it’s a mix of drugs and belief,” I say.
Juneau crosses her arms. “I just don’t know.” She doesn’t look convinced. “What seems most likely to me is that you, having taken the Amrit, will now age at an imperceptible rate. You won’t ever get sick again. No illness . . . no disease. But that’s it. If you want to be one with the Yara—if you want to Read—then it will take a change of heart. A change of perception. A sensitivity toward the earth and the superorganism that we’re a part of.”
As Juneau talks, my thoughts are spinning. I’m trying to remember everything she’s told me in the past, which isn’t easy since I thought she was talking utter crap up to a few days ago. I nod, and feel vaguely uncomfortable. It’s not nice to be the guinea pig. The one case that tests the variables in this life-and-death experiment. I’ve passed the lethal part of the test . . . now I have to find out what it means in real terms.
It’s time to change the subject. “So how are you going to use the Yara to find your clan?” I ask.
From the half smile on Juneau’s lips, I can tell she’s happy to leave the existential crisis behind. Picking the last piece of meat off her spike, she reaches over for a bottle of water, takes a sip, and hands it to me.
“I can fire-Read to see where people are right now. Sometimes I see through the person’s eyes, and others it’s just an image taken from something outside them. I can Read the ground to know what people are feeling. Reading trees and rocks can help me know what the weather’s going to be like in the future or any important events that happened near them in the past. Water’sour best bet—it’s what Whit used to see if brigands were coming . . . I mean, people from the outside world. It isn’t focused on one person and their immediate surroundings.”
“So we need water. Didn’t you say we’re near the Rio Grande?” I ask.
“It’s just a couple minutes that way,” Juneau says, pointing into the trees. “But it’s dark now. I wouldn’t be able to see much. We’ll try that tomorrow morning.”
“Is that the only option?” I ask.
Juneau shifts uncomfortably. “I’m sure there are a lot of things I don’t know. Either intentionally or out of his own lack of knowledge, Whit’s kept me . . . kept all of us . . . in the dark about the limits of the Yara. Now that I’m sure he was mistaken about the totems, I wonder what else he was wrong about. What else he didn’t know. I’m just learning what I’m capable of. The possibilities could be endless . . .”
I nod and take a swig from the bottle.
“There is, of course, one option for Reading that I haven’t mentioned,” she says slowly. “An oracle.”
I choke on my mouthful of water.
“But I won’t ask you to do that again,” she adds quickly, raising her hands in a gesture of surrender.
I feel the blood drain from my face. “Please don’t,” I squeak, and then hit myself on the chest to get the water out of my windpipe. When I can once again breathe, I reach over and put my hand on Juneau’s. “I’m sorry. I want to help. But I really, reallydon’t want to do that again. Spouting out prophecy while you’ve got
“Or, it could be because you’ve already got Amrit flowing through your veins. You’re born with the starbursts in your eyes, and didn’t you say the children are better than the elders at Reading? Couldn’t it be from the Amrit your parents took, and not based on beliefs?”
Juneau considers what I said, then shakes her head. “You saw what happened when I started doubting the Yara. I began to lose my gifts.”
“So maybe it’s a mix of drugs and belief,” I say.
Juneau crosses her arms. “I just don’t know.” She doesn’t look convinced. “What seems most likely to me is that you, having taken the Amrit, will now age at an imperceptible rate. You won’t ever get sick again. No illness . . . no disease. But that’s it. If you want to be one with the Yara—if you want to Read—then it will take a change of heart. A change of perception. A sensitivity toward the earth and the superorganism that we’re a part of.”
As Juneau talks, my thoughts are spinning. I’m trying to remember everything she’s told me in the past, which isn’t easy since I thought she was talking utter crap up to a few days ago. I nod, and feel vaguely uncomfortable. It’s not nice to be the guinea pig. The one case that tests the variables in this life-and-death experiment. I’ve passed the lethal part of the test . . . now I have to find out what it means in real terms.
It’s time to change the subject. “So how are you going to use the Yara to find your clan?” I ask.
From the half smile on Juneau’s lips, I can tell she’s happy to leave the existential crisis behind. Picking the last piece of meat off her spike, she reaches over for a bottle of water, takes a sip, and hands it to me.
“I can fire-Read to see where people are right now. Sometimes I see through the person’s eyes, and others it’s just an image taken from something outside them. I can Read the ground to know what people are feeling. Reading trees and rocks can help me know what the weather’s going to be like in the future or any important events that happened near them in the past. Water’sour best bet—it’s what Whit used to see if brigands were coming . . . I mean, people from the outside world. It isn’t focused on one person and their immediate surroundings.”
“So we need water. Didn’t you say we’re near the Rio Grande?” I ask.
“It’s just a couple minutes that way,” Juneau says, pointing into the trees. “But it’s dark now. I wouldn’t be able to see much. We’ll try that tomorrow morning.”
“Is that the only option?” I ask.
Juneau shifts uncomfortably. “I’m sure there are a lot of things I don’t know. Either intentionally or out of his own lack of knowledge, Whit’s kept me . . . kept all of us . . . in the dark about the limits of the Yara. Now that I’m sure he was mistaken about the totems, I wonder what else he was wrong about. What else he didn’t know. I’m just learning what I’m capable of. The possibilities could be endless . . .”
I nod and take a swig from the bottle.
“There is, of course, one option for Reading that I haven’t mentioned,” she says slowly. “An oracle.”
I choke on my mouthful of water.
“But I won’t ask you to do that again,” she adds quickly, raising her hands in a gesture of surrender.
I feel the blood drain from my face. “Please don’t,” I squeak, and then hit myself on the chest to get the water out of my windpipe. When I can once again breathe, I reach over and put my hand on Juneau’s. “I’m sorry. I want to help. But I really, reallydon’t want to do that again. Spouting out prophecy while you’ve got
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