Flight To Exile

by Chris Reher

  “The new ones are almost ready to sail. But I meant your studies with Dwen Neben.”

  “Wonderful! I’m learning so much! He’s very patient with me and we can use as much chi’ro as we want.” She ran her hand through his hair and he smiled when he felt her mental touch. “You should join us.”

  “We’re a little busy down here,” he said. “Too much trouble with the priestesses and… and the enclave… and… how about we go upstairs and you do that? I haven’t seen you in, uh, days.” He grunted and shuddered. “He taught you that?”

  She laughed. “No, you silly man. His companion did. She’s the one with all the truly useful tricks. Oh, speaking of tricks…” She jumped down the steps and turned to face him. “Watch this.”

  Galen saw the air around her begin to shimmer while she turned, her bottom lip gripped between her teeth in concentration. Gradually, the space around her began to blur and colors merged until she was entirely hidden from view inside a shifting envelope of refracted light. It was not chi’ro that she had drawn to herself, nor had she tapped into the small riser venting by the orchard wall.

  “The Chenowans are better at making these things round, or whatever shape or size they want,” he heard her voice, as clearly as if she were not utterly invisible. “This is how they go to sleep at night. They just built a house like this when they don’t want to be seen.”

  “Can you see me?”

  “Yeah. Sort of.”

  “Room for two in there?”

  Her arm emerged from the shimmering veil surrounding her. He took her hand and stepped through it. “You can make this any size,” she said. “This is just ambient chi’ro. I just had to nudge it around a bit. It takes a bit more to make this thing totally dark or quiet or warm, or keep people out, even.”

  Galen ran his hand along the wall of nothing. “This is why they don’t build towns. I saw a few of these bubbles last time I was up there. Meant to ask about them.”

  “You can even move them along. It’s like wearing your house!”

  “You could wear it like clothes to keep warm.”

  “Or float it over your head like an umbrella when it rains,” she laughed and let the mirage fade away. “Oh, good, Delann’s back.”

  They strolled around the house to the courtyard where Delann and Yala were busy with their animals. A broad smile transformed Delann’s pale face when Aletha called out to him and, for a fleeting moment, he looked nearly as he had when La’il had been little more to him than a crude image scratched into a cave wall. He had made his peace with Yala and been pardoned by the emissaries for Tsingao’s death, but some bits of him had not resurfaced after La’il had left him. Gone were the expensive and flamboyant clothes, replaced by practical gear worn threadbare during his ceaseless travels around Thali. Gone also were the parties and late-night gossiping, the multitudes of guests in his house and his love for wine and exotic foods. He now moved with deliberate care, spoke little and laughed even less. “I hoped I’d see you before we leave,” he said when Aletha hugged him.

  “You ought to see the harbor, Aletha!” Yala exclaimed, staggering under the weight of a saddle. “Two freighters ready for the trip north and fully loaded with Inlanders! Some brought their animals, too! Not like Inlanders to leave their livestock behind. More waiting on the docks for their turn. Hundreds of them!”

  “And you pick pocketing the lot of them,” Delann said. After piling a saddlebag on top of Yala’s already heavy load and pretending not to hear the girl’s complaints, he followed Galen and Aletha into the main building.

  “You’re going north with this lot?” Galen asked.

  “No, I’m taking the brig around the horn. Gynn and some of his emissaries are coming with me. I’m expecting trouble along the way. Moving a village of herdsmen to Chenoweth is nothing compared to sorting out clans who’ve been at war for years. We’ve found places for them, well separated, but I don’t think they’ll be easily convinced to leave.”

  “Could take years to sort out,” Aletha said. “Take a few adepts with you. Perhaps the gods can do a little convincing.”

  She was not surprised when both Galen and Delann scowled at her suggestion. Both of them were bitterly opposed to the peculiar conspiracy that had developed between the adepts of Chenoweth and Thali’s emissaries. After La’il’s demise, Dwen Neben and his people had traveled to the emissaries’ main enclave in the delta and simply presented themselves as the ancient gods of Chenoweth, finally returned to continue their work on Thali. Once the clergy had recovered from their dumfounded surprise, they had all sequestered themselves for days, debating and arguing, until their plan had come together.

  To Galen’s dismay, the adepts had emerged in firm partnership with the emissaries, their strongest allies now in convincing the population of Thali to move to Chenoweth. While he had to admit that perpetuating the ancient legends was a far simpler solution than to rob the people of their beliefs entirely, continuing to masquerade as deities troubled him. When, against his wishes, his own connection to Dazai was exposed, he and Dwen Neben had nearly come to blows. Strangely, Delann was as adamantly opposed to the conspiracy as he was and a bond had developed between the two men of which they themselves seemed scarcely aware. It was as if having been utterly possessed by the La’il, knowing her mind in ways no one else ever had, had forever soured them on the very concept of godhood.

  “Well, you can’t take soldiers in there with you. They’re at war down there and you’ll only add water to the rain. Adepts are your only chance to get close to their leaders, and you know it.”

  “Yeah, I do,” Delann sighed. They had walked through the house and now lounged comfortably in the breezeway leading to the garden. A servant began to bring food and, with a disapproving frown, rearranged everyone on woven mats so that, even if they shunned chairs and couches, her employer and his divine guests would not sit on the bare flagstones. “Can I leave Yala with you while I’m gone? Her father has gone up but we can’t get the girl to stay with him. I guess it’s just too exciting down here these days.”

  “I’ll be in Phrar for the next few weeks,” Galen said. “She can stay here.”

  “I was hoping you’d come out to the highlands with us. Might get interesting.”

  Galen shook his head. “There was trouble between some emissaries and a bunch of Descendants who aren’t ready to forgive. Not sure how I got into this, since I can’t exactly blame them, but they want me to mediate. I think my place is in Phrar for now.”

  “Not a bad idea. I think we’ll have more trouble with Masin and her sect. Much more trouble.” Seeing Aletha’s puzzled frown, Delann explained, “She’s gathering followers. Mostly other priestesses, but now she’s taken to preaching her message to larger audiences. I heard there are even emissaries among her people. They’re saying the people of Thali are being deceived. The prophecies are true and we are being led to our deaths on Chenoweth. They believe her. They refuse to leave, even when they meet migrants who have been up there and returned to tell others about it.”

  “I can see why the priestesses would oppose us,” Galen said. “The emissaries depend on Chenoweth’s goodwill. After centuries of making Thali miserable, the gods are the only thing keeping them in power. Imagine what would happen to them if the truth were known!” He chuckled humorlessly. “But the priestesses are useless now. Pointless rites and prayers, empty temples, no one looking for divine intervention. Why visit a priestess if you can just stop at a god’s house for tea?”

  Aletha frowned at him. A few weeks earlier, when they had visited the emissaries’ enclave to meet with Gynn, word had spread that Dazai himself was among them and a crowd had mobbed the gate, seeking favors and blessings from the deity. The adepts had finally resorted to using a conduit to escape. Even with the benefit of Delann’s tightlipped staff, it was only a matter of time before their presence at Delann’s home was known. “You are what you are,” she said.

  “I am what they think I am.”

>   “We all are!” she retorted. Although she had no interest in the leadership of either Thali or Chenoweth, taking a part in shaping the new world for her people was a consuming passion and much of her time was spent in helping them in making the transition. But she also studied tirelessly with the adepts of Chenoweth to hone her skills and abilities, ravenous in her desire to learn more. She passed much of this new knowledge on to Galen, but he watched her progress with unease. He was glad that Chenoweth had remained adamant about the use of chi’ro on Thali and no adept tapped into the moon’s scant resources. Instead, chi’ro was funneled from Chenoweth through the conduit in the mountains to be used when necessary to help with the migration. Little was left for the sort of play that amused adepts and so the people of Thali were spared needless displays of magic.

  But it was not possible to obscure the palpable essence exuding from the newcomers. Chenoweth’s adepts had not learned or needed to hide their gift from those who might prosecute them for it. Even the least able among Thali’s Descendants could feel the power of the gods who walked among them. Rarely a day went by when someone was not overcome by fear, or awe or joy upon meeting one of the strangers. Regrettably, as on the Homeworld, jealousy and suspicion was also a common reaction and so only those Chenowans who helped with the migration came to visit here and none used chi’ro without due consideration.

  Galen knew that Aletha and some of the other adepts were frustrated, unable to give their talents free rein. They had argued that it would be far simpler to transport everyone to the mountain launch at once, using conduits shaped with Thali’s own risers. Fortunately, Dwen Neben had supported Galen’s objection to this scheme. Not only would it harm the balance of chi’ro on Thali, but it would be months, perhaps years, before Chenoweth was ready to receive them all. To Galen, delaying the migration meant that the people of Thali would have time to adjust, form new alliances even as they formed new towns, and perhaps recognize that their gods were as mortal and fallible as they were. Even as his own skills grew through his association with Aletha, he hoped that adepts would not assume privilege and leadership over the lesser talents.

  Delann smiled uncertainly. “Uh, are we having an argument?”

  “An old one,” she sighed. “Dazai over here is afraid we’ll recreate La’il and her people.”

  “That isn’t funny,” Galen snapped and Aletha cringed when Delann also glared at her.

  “Yes, it is,” she said. She got up and went to the door when a servant entered. She took his tray and slammed it onto a nearby table before closing the door to the hall. That done, she turned back to Galen and Delann. “What is the matter with you two?” she demanded. “We knew this wasn’t going to be easy. Even Dwen knew this from the moment he set foot on Thali. Maybe bringing the gods back isn’t the best idea, but it’s the way things worked out. You don’t like the emissaries and I don’t, either. But they could have opposed us and then what? Would we remove them by force? Kill them, maybe? Nonsense! Fortunately, they’re making this work. People listen to them, just out of habit. Maybe we’ll end up with the adepts ruling these moons, and maybe it’ll be the emissaries. So what? Someone will always try to lead and no one,” she paused to give emphasis to the words that followed, “including me, compares to the La’il in ambition or power. Right now Dwen Neben is doing a damn fine job of managing the migration, considering that none of the Chenowans care one bit about leading anything or anyone. You’re a god right now, Galen Chor, so deal with that. And you, Delann, you haven’t had this much fun since you launched your first pirate ship. I don’t know what La’il did to you, but it’s done now. She’s gone. And I’d like to have the two of you back now. We have work to do and maybe it’ll take the rest of our lives to finish. I guarantee you it’s going to be whole lot better if you found something funny once in a while!”

  Her outburst was followed by a long silence while the others stared at her with a mix of surprise and puzzlement. “She’s fierce,” Delann said to Galen.

  “Agreed.”

  “I’m right!” she said.

  “Agreed.” Delann stood up. “I have to get my maps together.”

  Aletha followed him to the door. “I’m sorry I said that… about the La’il. I know she hurt you. I shouldn’t have brought that up.”

  He looped his arms loosely around her waist. “Yeah, you should have. You’re right. About everything. We can only do our share and leave it at that. And, yes, I love my part in this. Walking into a hive of warmongering hillmen is going to be exhilarating. I’ll take Jeon and Samnang with me, even if our favorite ex-demon over there disapproves.” He kissed her and then waved a farewell to Galen. “Look after my house.”

  Aletha stared silently at the door he had closed behind him before turning back to Galen. He was looking out into the garden, watching a flock of colorful lizards glide from tree to tree, their webbing holding them aloft for their acrobatics. She sat beside him, leaning into him until he wrapped an arm around her shoulders.

  “Mad at me?”

  “Of course not,” he said, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips when he yielded to her playful mental nudges. She slipped into his mind, easily, pleasurably, and they fell into an odd sort of communication they used whenever alone and at ease. It was a rhythmic combination of whispered words, thoughts and mental images becoming more fluent with each passing day. With practice, their conversation would soon be entirely mental, as it was between Aletha and the adepts of Chenoweth, and then even the distance between moons would no longer separate them as they went about their lives and work.

  “You’re not happy,” she said.

  “I’m happy when you’re here.”

  “That’s not what I meant. You’re thinking about something. This isn’t about La’il or gods and emissaries or shipping people to Chenoweth. You said yourself, with so much chi’ro on that moon, within a few generations we’ll all wonder what a non-adept is. We won’t need gods and emissaries.”

  He nodded.

  “Out with it, then!”

  He ruminated for a long while before pointing skyward. “Ever wonder what’s happened to the planet?”

  She looked up to see the Homeworld hanging in the sky, its features rendered in remarkable detail today. “Yes, I wonder. I can’t begin to imagine.”

  “They’ll adapt,” he said. “Like Thali adapted and Chenoweth will adapt. Things change. But we made that change. I made that. I killed her.”

  She turned sharply to look at him. “You regret that?”

  “Killing her? I’ve spent years wanting to kill her. I wanted her dead because of what she was doing to me. Then I wanted her gone because of what she wanted to do to this place. I never wondered how things would be once she was gone. She’s always been there. She made the Homeworld work, just like the emissaries made this place work. Who’s making it work now? What’s happening there now? I have family there, friends. What’ll happen to them?”

  “Like you said: they’ll adapt.”

  “If they can’t control the chi’ro distribution, people will suffer. There will be wars fought over each riser. People rely on their supply. They’ve not had to live without it. I’m not just talking about keeping the lights on. You know now what it feels like to take a full charge of chi’ro. We need this to be who we are. Without chi’ro, the adepts will diminish. Like the people on this moon did.”

  “They’ll find a way to work things out. Surely, the La’il is not the only one there capable of leading your people.”

  “I want to talk to them,” he said.

  “Huh? How? Why?”

  “We’ll tell them about Chenoweth. What they’ve done up there. It will help them.”

  “You can’t be thinking of going back there!”

  “No. I’m going to find a prime to talk to. With your help.” He came to his feet. “Come on, let’s go to the mountain. I don’t want to create a big chi commotion here in town.”

  Within moments Aletha had requested and received a
quantity of chi’ro from the adepts guarding the way to Chenoweth. They were greeted by a blast of cool air when they stepped out of their conduit onto the rocky surface near the launch. The hillside had been leveled off to accommodate the hundreds of people traveling through here each day so that now the launch to Chenoweth stood slightly elevated with rough steps hewn into the rock to lead to the crystal. A few tents had been set up to shelter those who watched over the launch, alert to any attempts from the Homeworld to send a conduit to Thali. The narrow path leading up to this place, as well as the coast road that brought the migrants here, had been widened by the tramping of many feet and now there were resting places and way stations along it to comfort weary travelers.

  There were few people here now. To ease the burden for Chenoweth’s welcoming committee, people were sent up in groups, arriving a boatload at a time at the foot of the mountain or guided along the road in unhurried caravans. The next wave of migrants was not due until the ship arrived from Phrar. Galen and Aletha were met by two adepts who were nearly beside themselves to find Dazai’s heir among them, accompanied by the legendary adept whose talent surpassed any found on Chenoweth. Galen scowled at them for their subservience and Aletha hustled him into one of the tents before he found cause to snap at them.

  “Should we get Dwen Neben to help?” she said when they were alone.

  “No,” he said quickly. “You can do this.”

  “Hmm, if you think this is going to work. Are you sure you’ll be able to reach someone down there?”

  “I think so. There are others of my generation who were bred with these genes. None of us were very good at this but we’ve made some sort of mental contact now and again. Let’s see if we can wake someone up.” He grinned and pulled her into a tight embrace. “Spike me, Goddess.”

  With some misgiving, she reached for a tendril of chi’ro coming from Chenoweth, undiminished by distance. She let it surround them, move through them and, finally, used it to infuse him with the power of her own abilities. He gasped and tensed and then slowly let out a deep breath. “Damn that feels good,” he sighed.