by Jon Chaisson
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Shenaihu - Mendaihu
Janoss Miradesi.
Natianos Lehanna’s low voice thundered within his head and caught him off guard. He tripped and fell sideways into the wall of his office, catching himself just before he hit the floor, and stifled a curse. He’d expected to hear from Natianos at some point today, but he’d expected it to be by common means like a vid call or in person, not with a pain-inducing inner voice. It meant that his message was not just important but imperative, and he’d damn well better answer in the next few seconds or he’d call again, louder and more penetrating. He limped towards his desk and eased himself into the chair, forcing himself to smile. Any feelings of disorientation would fade away quickly. He’d forgive him that.
Yes, Dahné, he called. I am here.
snap
“Awaken, eichi,” the voice said. “Come with me.”
Janoss twitched, startled by the sudden and unexpected appearance of his superior and the form he had taken. Dahné Natianos Lehanna had stepped out of Light in his true Shenaihuza spirit in the shape of a muscular bipedal winged dragonlike creature, an aspect of kiralla. He towered over his desk, his body filling nearly every available inch of the floor in front of him. His body was covered with dusky brown scales that shimmered under the office lights. His long snout hung low, dark and piercing eyes fixed on him, studying him intently but not revealing why. The Dahné held his paws crossed in front of his body, the fingers flexing anxiously every few seconds, revealing long pearly claws that clicked softly against each other. His tail reached over to the corner of the room and curled slightly, but never touched wall or floor. His presence inspired fear deep into Janoss’ soul.
“Come with me, my sehnadha,” he said in a low, rumbling voice, and lifted a hand. “I wish to show you something.”
“Yes, Dahné,” Janoss said. He let out a slow breath and closed his eyes, preparing for his own metamorphosis. He’d done this before, long before his near-change down in that abandoned hallway, and it took him less than a few seconds to complete. He felt himself changing form, from human to Shenaihuza, the realities blurring for a moment in his mind as his True form emerged from its sheltered soul. In his own kiralla aspect, much more compact than Natianos’ yet similar in every other fashion, he arched and stretched every muscle and nerve, the body happy to be free of its spiritual cage.
“Where are we going, Dahné?”
“To the hundred forty-second floor,” Natianos said with no emotion.
Janoss growled softly. “Shirai’s memstation?”
Instead of getting an answer, Natianos moved towards the windows of the office, and snapped back into Light. Shuddering, Janoss followed moments later.
They now stood on the escape walkway of the hundred forty-second floor, the first few drops of an impending rainfall splashing against their skins. Janoss blinked a raindrop out of his right eye and looked around, searching for Natianos. He had expected him to be out here, the same spot where Nehalé Usarai had stood days before. Nehalé’s spirit signature still permeated this spot, a tightening of the air much like that which preceded a lightning strike. Janoss flexed his paws, uncomfortable with standing out in the open.
Dahné? He looked around again, but could not see him.
You are here, but not here, was the answer Natianos gave him, his voice eerily not where it should be. Come further into Light, Janoss.
Janoss frowned, shifting his kiralla form. “I already am, Dahné.”
Natianos let out a quick laugh. Not fully, my friend.
He felt a shove from behind, and before he could whirl around and grab at something to keep from falling, he pitched back and felt his left foot sliding off of the escape walkway…the last solid thing he felt before his descent into Light.