Sun's Heart

Chapter 17 - Kitten

Gale sat in patient stillness and tried not to think. Tears burned heavy in her throat, but she'd cleared them away with an exasperated roll of her eyes.

Breathe in. Breathe out. Don't think.

Space yawned on either side of her, down a corridor of emptiness and stone.

Her eyes fixed on the narrow darkness of the wall at her back. Sheer and smooth, its slim shadow was a comfort. She had to find south, had to process what had happened, had to get out of the canyon. Beneath a brow dripping with sweat, she followed the progress shadows made as the minutes passed. Whether ten minutes or sixty, she hadn't a clue. But she couldn't risk leaving the canyon's relative coolness until the sun began setting.

No water. No food. No shelter. One knife she'd all but forgotten about until it jabbed her when she sat against the wall. A hunk of charred something, the remains of a shadowbeast, hidden in a pocket.

Her conscious efforts not to let herself think failed miserably, as they always did when she needed them to succeed. Eyes fixed on a point somewhere far below the strange bridge, her thoughts passed so quickly she swore they whistled.

The voice, saying it was "imprisoned" in the Rift, perhaps in the same way Adjinn was, but it couldn't possibly be Adjinn. She didn't want it to be possible. Because it wasn't. How did it manage to control her so easily? Every mention of her name had her scrambling to obey like an adoring lapdog, lolling tongue and all. And the betrayal of the Arsipe, condemning the Minyai to burn forever for...some reason the voice hadn't been clear on.

What kind of insanity could cause a calamity like the Rending? Well, perhaps the raving insanity of one powerful sorcerer could wipe a city from existence. If enough of them went mad, the Rending could easily be a reality worldwide. Another scary thought she wanted to avoid.

As was her missing runelock. Her magic lay dormant for the time being, and she wanted to avoid touching it as much as possible. She'd spent two days, perhaps longer, being as powerless as a kitten—

"No," she snapped. She curled her knees up to her chin and hugged her legs closer. No.

After long enough feeling weak and imprisoned by the shackles of her runelock, the sleeping monster she cupped in her palms was a dragon the size of a house. Unknowable and ancient and terrifying to behold. Leashed and loyal to her alone, perhaps. Yet terrifying still.

She had to be careful if she came across shadowbeasts, in case her own power was too much for her limited practice with it. They couldn't be too hard to defeat if she had enough power...

On and on, in circles, her thoughts wheeled and whirled and showed her glimpses of past and possibility.

The minutes passed with only the ever-creeping edge of shadows to remind her why she waited. Sun-Moon had to know where Elah was. She was the key to fixing the barrier. The priestess' insistence that she wasn't was confirmation enough.

Sun-Moon was south. It stuck out from her memories as clearly as her shadow on the sand. Haburnah's melodious voice recounting the origins of the tribes and how they came to be "Elahn." Something was to the south, and Elahn would be there.

A faint spot of awareness neared and grew clearer, headed in a line toward and past her. She glanced aside and saw a small, dark form with a shiny armor-like carapace. Vaguely triangular body, and a wickedly sharp tail curved backwards over its segmented back, while it led with two large pincers.

It scuttled on six legs, minute form leaving the slightest impressions in the sand on her thin ledge.

How did I know... Of course. The runelock's absence allowed her complete access to her power. She must have unintentionally been using it. Or it was using itself. But she frowned upon sensing it curled up like a dormant animal, waiting for the moment it needed to awaken, as usual.