by Ryan Hughes
"Accidentally. Hah. Never mind that you came into the library looking for some mental action, and when I was busy you accused me of slumming, or that-"
"You're the one who called me a warren rat."
"I did not."
"You did, too. You said 'your kind of people' like we were some kind of filth on the bottom of your sandals."
Kayan stared at him, her nostrils flaring with each breath. Without a word, she stood up and went into the bedroom, emerged with her knapsack, and went into the kitchen.
"What are you doing?" Jedra asked, following her to the kitchen door.
She had gone into the pantry and was stuffing vegetables and dried meat into her pack.
"What does it look like I'm doing?" she asked. "I'm leaving."
"What makes you think Kitarak will take you with him?"
She looked up at Jedra as if he'd just spoken a foreign language. "Who said anything about Kitarak? I'm leaving by myself. The two of you can do whatever you want when I'm gone. Rearrange the furniture with your stupid telekinesis-I don't care."
Even without the mindlink, Jedra could tell she meant it. She really intended to strike out on her own.
"Uh, Kayan," he said. "I don't think that's such a good idea. We had a hard enough time crossing the desert together?
She came back out of the pantry, her pack bulging with food. "Oh, so now I'm helpless, too? What do you think I did all this time we were here, ignore everything Kitarak said? I may not be able to move things around the way you can, but I did learn a thing or two. I can take care of myself." She filled her waterskin from the jug they kept on the counter, then pushed past Jedra into the great room and crossed into the bedroom, where she packed her clothes. She didn't have much; besides the tunic she was wearing she had just the elven robe and the shirt and short pants she'd made.
Jedra followed her and stood in the doorway while she tucked them into her knapsack around the food. "You can't make it alone through the desert and you know it," he said. "Who's going to stand watch when you get exhausted? And what will you do if another tokamak finds you?"
"I'll hit it with the same thing I did to you," Kayan said. "The same thing I did to Sahalik. Very useful for driving off unwanted advances."
"What are you afraid of?" he asked her suddenly.
"Huh?" She tied her pack closed.
"Why are you so eager to run off into the desert? Just because we had an argument? Because Kitarak left? Or are you afraid of me?"
She pushed past him into the great room again. "I'm not afraid of you or anybody else," she said. She pulled on her pack and pushed open the door. Wind swirled inside, carrying a cloud of fine sand with it. The evening light outside was dirty red, filtered through all the airborne sand.
"It's going to be dark soon, and there's a storm blowing up," Jedra told her. "You ought to at least be afraid of that."
She looked out into the blowing sand, but if it scared her, she didn't show it. When she looked back at Jedra, her expression was hard as stone. "Good-bye," she said, then she stepped through the door and closed it behind her.
Jedra wanted to go after her, to bring her back and make her listen to him, but he knew she wouldn't let him. He thought about mindspeaking an apology to her, but she probably wouldn't listen to that, either. The only thing he could do for her was watch over her psionically, and get ready to go to her rescue if she needed it.
The storm saved him the trouble. His disembodied mind hovering over her every step of the way, he watched her climb out of the canyon, but she had hardly made it up the switchbacks before the wind hit with gale force. Billowing clouds of sand made it nearly impossible to breathe, much less find the trail. Kayan tried it anyway, probably using her psionic vision to see through the blinding sand, but even so she only made it a quarter mile or so beyond the rim of the canyon before she turned around and headed back.
Jedra let her fight her way to the switchbacks again, then when he was sure she was committed to returning he used his newly learned skill to calm the wind immediately around her while she trudged dispiritedly back to Kitarak's stronghold.
He met her at the door.
"Aren't you going to say 'I told you so'?" she asked when he opened it for her.
"How about 'I'm sorry' instead?" He took her pack from her and brushed off the sand that had blown into the seams.
She looked at him incredulously. "You're sorry? For what?"
"For making you mad. And for making you think I was mad at you."
"Oh, now you weren't even mad at me. Tell me another one." She grabbed her pack from him and took it into the library. There wasn't a door to slam, but the rejection was just as intense as if there had been.
Oh, but she was hard to convince. As Jedra stared after her, his apology ignored, he wondered why he even bothered to try. He went back to their bedroom-now his own, he supposed-and lay back on the cushion. The wind howled overhead, whistling through the rocks that camouflaged the house, and Jedra wondered where Kitarak might be. Had he found shelter somewhere, or was he wandering blindly through the storm?
He closed his eyes and let his mind drift outward again. The blowing sand was only a shadow of motion in the psionic vision, easily ignored, so he concentrated on finding the dark whirlwind that signaled an intelligent mind. He searched all around the canyon, spiraling outward until he'd gone a dozen miles, but Kitarak was nowhere to be seen. Jedra tried straight mindsending, but he got no response that way, either.
Finally he got up and walked across the house to the library. Kayan was curled up on the cushion, not reading or sleeping, but just staring at the murky red light beyond the room's single irregular window. Night was not far away.
"What do you want?" she demanded when she heard him behind her.
"I want your help finding Kitarak. He's out in this storm because of us, and I want to make sure he's all right."
She sat up to look at him. "Oh, you do. And how do you propose doing that? By mind-merging?"
He nodded. "Unless you can find him on your own. I tried it and couldn't."
She blinked a couple of times, then said, "So did I."
He stepped into the library and said, "Then let's put aside our troubles for a few minutes and try it together. He may need help." "Not likely," Kayan said. After a moment she added, "But it's possible." She nodded. "All right, sit down and let's try it. But if you-"
Jedra sat down beside her, his legs folded beneath him and his arms at his sides, and closed his eyes. He heard Kayan shift slightly beside him, then suddenly she was there with him. They still weren't a single mind, but it was better than the last time. Kayan's hostility had lost some of its edge, and his own sense of inadequacy had faded somewhat.
Let's go, she said, and they moved out into the storm. Kitarak had taught them how to control their movement better than before; when they imagined themselves as a bird they didn't have to imagine the limitations as well. They could have more eyes than usual, larger wingspan, longer talons-whatever they needed to see or reach what they wanted. As long as they could imagine something, they could have it, so long as one or the other of them had the power to make it happen.
This time, however, they became a two-headed dragon. Their long, snakelike necks coiled back in surprise, and the scaly wings beat frantically just to keep them airborne. Problem was, they didn't beat in time. The dragon careened left and right through the sky while Jedra and Kayan fought for control.
Let me do it! Jedra said frantically as he tried to keep them from crashing into the rock house. He had no idea whether or not they could accidentally crush themselves, but he didn't want to find out the hard way.
How come you have to control everything? Kayan demanded. Why can't I do something for a change? The dragon's wings flapped a couple of times under her control, propelling them up over the canyon rim.
All right, then, you do it, Jedra said, surrendering the wings to her. He concentrated on scanning the ground for signs of Kitarak, but there was n
o evidence of his psionic presence.
He must be blocking us, Jedra said. Let's see if we can spot him visually. They flew the same search pattern Jedra had done alone, but finding a sandy yellow tohr-kreen in the rocky desert was nearly impossible even for two mind-merged psionicists. If they could truly merge, maybe, but not the way they were.
This is pointless, he said after they had covered the entire area for miles around. He obviously doesn't want to be found, so we might as well leave him alone. He'll contact us if he needs help.
You're right, Kayan said.
With her words, the dragon's long necks merged together for the lower half of their length. Their heads were still separate, but not as separate as they had been.
Did you do that? Kayan asked.
I think we did that, Jedra replied, and the neck fused another foot or so.
Kayan's scaly, bone-ridged dragon head turned to examine Jedra's. Jedra looked into her slitted yellow eyes, trying to guess what she was thinking, but he saw only his own reflection in their shiny depths.
The neck fused another few inches, drawing their heads even closer together.
What's happening? Kayan asked. She forgot to flap their wings, and the dragon began to fall. Jedra reached out to flap them just as she did, and this time they kept their body airborne together.
Now their heads were only a foot or so apart. And now that they were this close, Jedra felt the lure of true convergence like a physical force drawing him even closer.
I think we're going to merge whether we want to or not, Jedra said. Do you want to break the link first?
Kayan evidently felt the allure, too. Do you? she asked.
Not really, Jedra said, and then it was too late.
They became one. They felt power flowing through them again, felt their squabbles fade into obscurity. Neither of them cared about their previous argument; there was no "neither" to care. They were one being again, one mind.
The dragon swooped, banked, and rose on suddenly coordinated wings. They bellowed their mastery into the sky and heard it echo off the canyon walls, and spit a twenty-foot tongue of flame that lit up the twilight like day.
How could we ever give this up? they thought as they arrowed through the sky with smooth strokes of their wings. The dragon was the most feared beast in all of Athas, yet here they were wearing the body and feeling the ripple of powerful muscles all along its length. They didn't care that it was an illusion; it felt real, and it felt wonderful.
They flew until well after dark, when maintaining their flight and their enhanced vision began to tire them. They spiraled down out of the sky toward Kitarak's stone house, but even when they drew near, they hesitated to break die link.
Then let's not do it, they thought. We can stay linked indefinitely if toe don't exert any major psionic powers.
That meant losing the dragon body. They let it dissipate and drifted back into the house. The link became more tenuous and threatened to dissolve into two points of view again, but Jedra regained enough control over his body to reach out and take Kayan's hand, and the link intensified again.
It was dark within the library. Together they lit a candle by agitating the wick into flame, and this time instead of resenting it, the Kayan part of their combined intellect exulted in the ability. By the candle's light they picked up a book and read, giving Jedra the same thrill.
The book was the same medical volume that Kayan had been reading earlier, but now the squiggles made sense- sort of. They read: It is believed that ancient physicians knew the sites in the brain responsible for speech, hearing, voluntary motion, involuntary motion, and other everyday activities. Even sites for abilities such as calculation and puzzle-solving were rumored to be known, and one researcher claims to have discovered the seat of personality. Whether this is true has never been determined, as all records were lost in the cataclysm.
It is boring! Jedra said, momentarily weakening the link.
No, it's not! Kayan replied, then she laughed. Well, all right, so maybe it is.
Hey, Jedra thought, let's try those cry stab now. With both of us trying, we could probably figure out how to tap into their energy. Maybe it will let us stay linked longer.
Well... all right.
The link intensified again, and together they floated one of the crystals out of the bedroom into the library, where they placed it on the floor in front of them. It reflected candlelight from its faceted sides, but their psionic vision saw a brighter glow from within.
They focused their attention on it, trying to make contact with whatever energy it contained. They could sense something there, but it didn't feel like anything they had encountered before. This was a little like a mind, but not enough like one to reach with a mindlink. It felt something like Kitarak when he put up a mental barrier- alien and hard to touch-so they tried one of the techniques he had taught them for penetrating such defenses. It was the same power Kayan had thought Jedra was using on her the first time he'd tried it, the deliberate thrusting of one's mind upon another.
The crystal barrier couldn't hold against Jedra and Kayan's synergistic power. There was a moment of resistance, then a sensation of vertigo as they burst through...
... into a bright, sunlit, grassy meadow surrounded by trees. They blinked their eyes against the glare, and Jedra sneezed. When he opened his eyes again, squinting, he saw Kayan standing beside him, one hand held like a visor over her eyes to protect them from the sun. The other still held on to Jedra's hand. They had fallen out of mindlink.
But he felt none of the letdown they normally felt. In fact, he felt the same consuming energy coursing through him, as if they were still linked even though they now stood side by side, separate viewpoints in separate bodies.
What in the world? How did we get here? he asked her. Where's here? she replied.
He looked for anything familiar. The sun was the wrong color: bright yellow, almost white, and though it was far brighter than Athas's coppery red cinder, it provided more light than heat. The air actually felt cool against his skin. The grass at their feet-ankle-high and soft as feathers-almost glowed with an intense green color that Jedra had never seen before. The leaves on the trees were equally green, and their bark was eye-jarringly white with black streaks in it. And overhead, the sky had creases in it, as if it were made of angled panes of smooth glass.
We're inside the crystal, Jedra said wonderingly. It's not just a power source, it's a place.
A beautiful one, too, said Kayan. Bright, though. She turned half around, looking at the trees surrounding them. Let's go stand in the shade.
Good idea. They walked side by side, their feet swishing through the grass with each step. Jedra had never seen so much greenery in all his life. He had heard that the king's gardens were something like this, but here there was no wall to keep the rabble out. There was no rabble, either. Only green growing things as far as he could see.
What's a place like this doing inside a crystal? he asked when they reached the cool shade beneath the trees.
I don't know. It's your crystal. Kayan laughed, a bright, clear sound in the clean, fresh air. "I didn't make it," Jedra said aloud. "I just found it in the ancient city."
"That would be strange."
She laughed again. "This is already strange." Jedra looked deeper into the forest. It wasn't dense; the trees stood just close enough to provide not-quite-continuous shade for someone walking beneath them. A few hundred yards beyond, he saw a glimmer of motion between the trunks, something even whiter than their bark.
"What's that?" he asked, pointing.
It wavered, like a piece of cloth flapping in the wind. Kayan said, "I don't know. Want to go see?"
"Of course."
They walked through the trees, stopping again and again to marvel at new wonders: birds chirping merrily in the branches, fat, furry animals waddling through the grass, even dewdrops caught at the base of wide leaves where they curled around their stems. Something seemed odd about them all.
It took Jedra a moment to come up with what it was, but he finally figured it out.
"They have no defenses," he said. "None of the plants have thorns, and as slow as they move you could just reach out and grab one of those furry things for dinner."
"That's true." Kayan shrugged. "We may have to try it in a little while. I didn't eat after I got back from my little outing in the sandstorm."
Jedra laughed. "If I'd known what we would find in here, I would have packed a lunch."
They walked on, but the next tree they came to was different. Its leaves were smaller than the others, almost an afterthought, and round, light-tan balls hung from the branches. The aroma of baking bread permeated the air.
"Look at this!" Kayan said incredulously, reaching up and pulling loose one of the balls.
"What is it?"
"It's a roll." Kayan handed it to Jedra. It was an oval oblong, lightly browned on top, with a faint indentation in the center where the stem had been. It was warm, as if it had just come out of an oven. And the aroma... Jedra's mouth watered, and his stomach growled.
"This is impossible," he said.
"Yes, it is," said Kayan. "But then so is this whole place." She reached up and plucked another roll from the tree. When she tore it open and exposed the fluffy white interior, the baked-bread smell grew even stronger. She narrowed her brows for a moment, concentrating on it, then she took a cautious nibble, smiled, and took a bigger bite. "Mmm. Great."
"Are you sure it's safe?" Jedra asked.
"I couldn't detect any poisons," she said.
That wasn't one of his skills, but Jedra tried anyway. If they were still linked somehow, then he would be able to. Come to think of it, this would be a good test. He concentrated, trying to see any poisons as black stains in the bread, but the roll remained its natural brown and white. That didn't necessarily mean anything, though. As Kitarak had said when he showed them this skill, "Absence of evidence isn't evidence of absence."
So Jedra looked again for something he knew was there, like yeast, and this time the roll turned gray.