The Quest for the Lost Shards of Power

by F M Andrews

  The trip from the flagship, which the girls now called the falcon because of the bird on the sail, to Ralta’s family boat was short but exhilarating. The small yacht flew at speed, and in the darkness shapes materialised and vanished rapidly, taking their breath away. Oh how they would love to get their hands on one of these speedsters. They had never thought anything could be more exciting than racing horses but this had the potential.

  Ralta handled the craft with skill and dexterity, born of a lifetime of practice. It took a shift in the twins’ reality view for them to get used to this society where women were the leaders and men their support. They had learned that this was due to the fact that the woman seemed, in general, to have more talent than men.

  Ralta’s family ship was comfortable and spacious and after a quick tour the girls were shown to a room with two wonderfully comfortable beds. It had been a truly exhausting day that had begun on a different world, a lifetime ago, and the sight of those invitingly soft beds made them both realise how utterly bone weary they were. It was all they could do to drag themselves over to those oases of peace before they collapsed into them and both were asleep in moments. Neither heard Ralta whisper, “Sleep well my children,” as she softly closed their bedroom door and left them to their slumber.

  Bhan’s loud voice broke into their oblivion, and rudely thrust them back into the waking world. When he received no answer he called again, this time knocking, insistently on the door as well. Sensing that this would go on until they answered, Ela slid off her bed and stumbled to the door. Opening it just a crack she peered blearily out at the noisy offender. “Time to rise. The birds wait for no one,” he repeated. Now that she could focus in on his mind, Ela could understand his words. She nodded at him, opened the door wide and went to prod Ema into waking. How could she sleep through all that noise? It shouldn’t surprise her really; Ema had always been able to sleep through anything. In fact, it was one of the few things that made them different from each other.

  It was still dark outside as they ate breakfast in the cabin on the upper deck. It was delicious and satisfying and as they ate Ralta quickly outlined the protocols of the impending bird hunt. Apparently women with the strongest talent create a wall of thick air across the flock’s flight path. These women were called ‘The netters.’ As the birds fly through this area of dense air the weak and the young will slow down, finding it harder and harder to fly. This is when the archers on the small yachts can pick them off. “We want the flock to stay strong for the future so we only take the slower, older birds,” Bhan explained. “Each person has their own coloured fletching for their arrows, and if a young bird is shot, that person and their family will not receive any birds in that cull. The clan youngsters have the job of gathering up the fallen birds. They run on the ground below the yachts.”

  Ralta glanced at Bhan, a secret smile passing between them before she turned to address the girls once more. “We have talked to Rhelin and she has given permission for you to take part in the shoot rather than be runners on the ground,” she beamed at them as if she had just given them the best gift ever. The twins realised that their archery skill was going to be put to the test. There was no way they could let Ralta and Bhan down. It was a huge responsibility but also very exciting. The girls looked at each other grinning madly. Maybe living here was not going to be so bad after all.

  Ema was just finishing her last mouthful when Bhan, who had popped out a moment ago, reappeared at the door holding two beautiful bows complete with quivers full of colourfully fletched arrows. Ralta and Bhan gave each other another look, although this time it seemed as if they shared a more painful memory. Bhan raised an enquiring eyebrow at Ralta. She gave a single nod, a sad but resigned expression on her face. Bhan reverently held the bows out to the girls. “These were our children’s bows,” he said. “They have been handed down through four hundred and six generations. If you accept them, you will be the four hundred and seventh. Treat them with respect and love and they will provide.”

  Both girls gulped. This was a ceremonial event. The words were ritual, yet the pain behind them was raw. What had happened to Ralta and Bhan’s children?

  This was too much responsibility for the twins to take on. They were definitely not the responsible type. Both girls just stared at the wonderful bows, wanting so much to touch them but fearing their own inadequacies to be able to take care of them. Bhan crossed the distance between them and gently place a bow in Ema’s hands. She could not take her eyes off his sad face; however, the smooth feel of the beautifully balanced bow in her hands called to her. Her fingers automatically curled around its seductive curves and a zing of something, talent? Magic? Raced through her being. It was as if the bow had bonded with her, seeping into her soul. She gasped, looking anxiously at Ralta who once again nodded slightly, although this time there was a gleam of resigned satisfaction in her eyes as if something inevitable had just happened.

  Ela’s gasp broke Ema’s reverie and she turned to see the expression of wonder mirrored on her twin's face. This was awesome and scary at the same time.

  “It is done!” Ralta proclaimed. Not sure exactly what was done, Ema and Ela looked confused. To their surprise Ralta opened her arms and came to give each, in turn, a warm comforting hug. “Welcome to our family,” she murmured. Were there tears in her eyes, Ela wondered? Bhan hugged them next repeating the welcome over and over again. Something significant had just occurred but the girls were unsure of exactly what it was. Their look of bewilderment finally registered with Ralta. “Oh, you poor things, of course you don’t understand! Sit, and we will explain.”

  The girls sat, clasping their bows, and Ralta and Bhan came to sit opposite them, Bhan gently placing a supportive hand over his wife’s, presenting a united front.

  “Bhan and I had two boys, twins, late in life and as there are very limited resources left in the world today, and we can no longer make new vessels, each family can only have two children. Our boys were the joy of our hearts, but they were never strong and both died in their tenth circle. We were too old to have more children so we had no one to pass our life onto. When you two were found, Rhelin wondered if we would take you into our family. We jumped at the chance but only the bows can decide such a thing. If they had rejected you we would have had no choice but to refuse you as well. Maybe then, some other childless couple at the gathering could see if you were compatible with their family. But as you will have felt, the bows have accepted you both and, to our joy, we can offer you a place on our ship.” This last sentence had a questioning quality to it, and the pleading look in Ralta’s eyes made it clear that it was up to the girls to accept or reject this offer.

  Ela held her breath. This appeared to be such an important decision; however, in reality, they simply did not have the luxury of choice. These people seemed kind and they both knew that they would not last long in this world alone. Ema come to the same conclusion and a simple, “Okay, why not?” passed silently between them. Ela knew a more formal acceptance was needed so she bowed slightly at her new parents and thought, “We would be honoured to become part of your family but you will have to be patient with us as we do not know your ways and we have a lot to learn.” This time the hugs were uninhibited and joyful. A new chapter in all their lives was just beginning.

  The sun had just popped over the horizon, sending long slivers of light across the landscape, and the morning air was brisk and cool as they manoeuvred their small craft into its allotted landing space in the shadow of a small hill. The entire fleet of small racing yachts was gathered here, their sails furled to stop them flapping in the breeze. The four women who were to enable the air net were positioned in a box-like formation on opposite hill tops, facing each other across a shallow valley. The flotilla had been following this flock of birds for several days now and it was known that they had roosted at a nearby lake for the night. Scout yachts had been sent before the sun has risen to guide the birds towards the trap using loud horns and drums.

/>   Expectant excitement bubbled in the hunters waiting for their prey to arrive. Complete silence cloaked them all, their steamy breath blown by the constant wind the only sign of life. The girls knew that waiting was the hardest part of any hunt and had long ago learnt to quietly flex and relax each muscle in turn in order to be limber and ready to go no matter how long they had to sit motionless. The distant sound of the horns was the first sign of impending action. They sounded random and uncoordinated. Ela and Ema took their cues from the others and remained still as the beaters came closer and the horns sounded louder and louder. Finally three short blasts signalled action. A buzzing, sizzling sound heralded the activation of the air net. The wild call of the birds also grew louder as the flock flew ever nearer. No one moved a muscle. Ema found herself holding her breath in anticipation. Glancing at Ela she saw that she was nervously nibbling her lower lip. Another three blasts on the horn and the hunters exploded into action. Ropes were slipped and sails snapped into life. As one the yachts levitated, turned to catch the wind and raced forward out of the shadow of the hill and swarmed up to the base of the wall of thickened air.

  The girls had never seen such large birds before and the sky was now full of them. Their calls were deafening and their bodies nearly blocked out the sky. They were white with golden heads and underwings; their wing span was huge and they were incredibly graceful, gliding effortlessly onwards with each long beat of their wings. The twins stared in wonder. The juveniles were easy to spot as they were pure white: their golden plumage did not come in until they were several circles old. Bows at the ready the hunters waited, watching as the flock hit the heavy air wall. Immediately they slowed, each stroke of the wing requiring much more effort than before. The whole flock lost altitude and began to be spaced further apart as the strong battled on and the weaker found the going harder and harder. Still the hunters waited. Finally with a loud call the leaders of the flock burst free of the heavy air and surged upwards and onwards. It was a majestic sight to see these beautiful birds pass overhead. The girls stared, distracted by the vision. Ela knew they had to wait while the fit adults had flown past but she was still not sure when the shooting would start. Time stood still. It was a weird tableau consisting of a never ending parade of swift, elegant birds flying over a static scene of poised hunters. Finally three quick blasts of the horn sounded and immediately arrows filled the air and exhausted birds fell, plummeting to the ground.

  The girls carefully chose their targets, moving with them across the sky, then, in unison, they let their arrows fly. To their dismay, both their arrows missed, sailing harmlessly past their intended targets. The girls felt a crushing disappointment. They had let their new family down. Ema gulped. “What just happened?” she thought at Ela, shocked.

  “Not sure,” Ela replied. “I think we should try using our talent or we will not be able to hit anything.” Quickly they knocked the next arrow and took aim again but this time they sent the arrows on their way with a touch of talent.

  Both arrows found their targets. The girls quickly reloaded and fired again and again and again until, with a final call the flock receded into the distance and the skies became clear. The wall abruptly vanished and a loud cheering erupted from the boats. Young children who had been left on the ground had rounded up all the birds, dispatching any who still lived, and placing them in family piles according to the arrow fletching. As the yachts came into land, the twins noticed that their family pile was almost the biggest. Grinning widely they leapt from the yacht before Ralta had even touched the ground. The birds were even larger on the ground, it took two children to carry a single bird, and each would feed a family for a week at least. This had been such fun.

  As the yachts came into land, one by one the clan members all came over to congratulate the twins, calling them naturals and slapping them on the back. Ralta and Bhan, their eyes dancing, had smiles that lit up their faces. “Well, you girls are something special all right!” Bhan laughed. “A bit of competition for you, old girl,” he chuckled, rubbing Ralta’s shoulder.

  Ralta grinned back at him. “About bloody time, too. I was getting sick of always winning,” she quipped back, all the while smiling proudly at the girls.

  Everyone was happy. It had been a good hunt and they would celebrate tonight. Nets were strung between the yachts and the birds were rolled into them to be carried back to the flotilla where they would be plucked, preserved and stored. The twins were tired but happy. Any thought of their mission was far from their minds. They had a new life now. Time to leave the old one behind.

  Days passed in a haze of new experiences, yet learning to sail the small family yacht was, by far, their favourite pastime. There was so much to it. They found the levitation aspect was easy but catching the wind, turning and stopping were all skills they had to master and no amount of talent could help them with this. It was a challenge, and there was nothing the twins liked more than a challenge. They were quick to learn and Ralta only needed to explain things once for them to grasp it but there were some things that can only be learnt through experience. The first time they had tried to land they had released their talent all at once and the yacht had plummeted dangerously toward the ground. Only Ralta’s quick action had saved them.

  Ralta could read the wind, understand how the lay of land affected the thermals and downdraughts. She was one with the craft, it was second nature to her and it frustrated the hell out of the twins that they just couldn’t seem to master it. For once in their lives they really had to work at achieving a goal and for once they had to exercise caution. The yacht was priceless, irreplaceable, and it was an essential piece of equipment for the family and the clan. The fact that Ralta and Bhan had let the girls fly it by themselves was an act of faith and the last thing the twins wanted to do was abuse this trust. At first they couldn’t believe it when Ralta had suggested they take it for a short spin themselves but, as she explained, it would be useful if they could run errands for her. Everyone had had to learn once and the more practice they could get the better they would become. There was nothing like going solo to make you focus.

  From then on every spare moment found the girls skimming over the landscape, executing manoeuvres over and over again until it became a reflex. Ela found her talent lay in directing the yacht whilst Ela had a feel for the sails and the centre boards. Because they were so in tune with each other, they didn’t even have to communicate, it was as if they were one entity. As the days passed they ventured further afield, exploring their new world. Time lost meaning. On one hand, it felt as if they had been here forever and on the other they felt as if they had just arrived.

  Late one morning they found themselves resting on the grassy top of a gently rolling hill. Ela sighed and lay back, hands behind her head and stared up at the clouds racing by high overhead. “I love this big sky,” she murmured. It was nice to use her voice every now and then when they were out of hearing of the clan.

  “Ha! I never thought I would say this but I love this wind,” Ema replied, sounding bemused. “This place gets under your skin fast.” For a long moment they shared a contented silence. “I hope Errin can find a way to make three shards work.” Ela said wistfully to the sky, not looking at Ema.

  “Yea, me too. You know I can still feel that bloody shard thing getting closer and closer all the time. Wouldn’t it be weird if it found us?” Ema rolled over, plucked a stem of grass and nibbled on the end thoughtfully. “Sods law, really, but I bet if we were looking for it, it would be impossible to find,” she mused.

  Ela raised herself up onto her elbows and scanned the view. The windblown grass coated hills stretched in every direction and the sky was a dark blue dome with flags of white clouds scurrying across it. “Well, right or wrong, it’s not our problem anymore.” She sighed. “Let's get back for lunch.”

  They had deliberately tacked against the wind this morning so that they could run before it on the return trip. Of course the flotilla was always moving but it was slow and l
umbering, and no match for a small yacht’s speed. The wind had increased in strength during the morning and in no time they were racing across the landscape. It was exhilarating and intoxicating. The closer to the ground they flew the more exciting it felt. Just up ahead the land crumpled into a series of steeper hills lined with narrow valleys. Without even sharing a thought the twins descended down below the ridge line, sweeping along the twisting valley. They had flown over this area on their outward journey and knew that it was safe, no dead ends or unexpected cliffs.

  This was living. Their world turned into a blur of motion and they whooped for joy. It felt as if time had slowed down and that they were floating in space with the world moving around them. It was mesmerising. The shock of rounding a bend and seeing a parked yacht directly in their path sent waves of panic through them, paralyzing them. Each and every detail of the scene before them came into sharp focus. Ferna, a young woman with long red hair, was standing, staring directly at them, a surprised, shocked expression on her face. She was holding a sickle and a bag of gathered herbs. Her nerveless fingers released both but before they could reach the ground, the twins’ yacht slammed into her and her parked craft with a horrendous sound of wood splintering. The last thing Ela heard was Ferna’s scream before all went dark.

  Ema opened her eyes and blinked. What had happened? Why was she on the ground? She tried to move but searing agony in her leg almost caused her to black out again. She panted, trying to gain control over her pain. All at once, the memory of the crash hit her like a hammer. She groaned. What had they done! She closed her eyes again, not wanting to see the reality. Except for the wind, all was silent. Eventually she could no longer bare it. Carefully she lifted her head. It was worse than she could have imagined. Ferna[CL26] lay close, arms and legs splayed out at odd angles, her head snapped back and her dull, blank eyes stared accusingly in Ema’s direction. The two beautiful yachts were reduced to kindling, only a small section of the aft of one was recognisable as a manmade object. There was no sign of Ela, physically or mentally. Ema panicked, struggling to sit up, the need to find Ela overcoming any pain she felt. Sitting as tall as she could she spied Ela’s leg beneath the tumble of wood and sail cloth. Gritting her teeth she pulled herself along the ground, dragging her useless leg behind her, leaving a bloody trail on the grass.