Haven: Book Seven of "The Liminality"

Chapter 25 - The Far Side of the Caldera

The latest turn of events left Grehl feeling ever more diminished and discombobulated. She had gotten used to being coddled and revered across the realm as the one and only true Summoner of their generation. She had discouraged this celebrity treatment from the start, but now this distinction was moot. What good was a Summoner who could no longer summon seams? Even her newfound skill of soul surfing, as James called it, had been superceded by visitations from higher beings, such that the news her soul returned was already old by the time she had gathered her wits enough to share it.

Thus, she joined the others at the table of the clans equipped with a new and far humbler perspective. Her impostor syndrome had never felt more justified. She supposed they should all be thankful for this turn of events. It was only good to have help from the high and mighty. No longer was burden of reaching a better realm solely hers to bear.

Gijantus had assembled the council, now some newly arrived leaders a seat at the table with the other cabals, clans and cooperativos. She recalled this table being more crowded before the closing of the rift. Several groups had now left the camp, some entirely giving up the quest for a new realm, others attempting to be the first to reach the site of the next summoning attempt on the far side of the caldera. Word travels fast on Sheol.

One lanky clan leader strolled back to the table from viewing the gift of the rebel Argents. The puffball, while visibly larger than it had been only an hour before, but was still only the size of a low budget bouncy house. It had been relocated outside the tent as it had been threatening to consume the conference table.

"An ark?" he said. "They are calling this an ark?"

"Trust me, it will be huge when it's fully grown," said James.

"How large?"

"Big enough to hold a couple thousand souls."

Laughter erupted around the table.

"I'm serious!"

"Perhaps, we need to feed it more rocks," said Gijantus.

"Don't you worry," said James. "That thing is fully capable of feeding itself. Might be a good idea to bring it some water, though. It's looking thirsty."

Long tendrils were starting to grow and stretch down the slope towards the shore of the Sagmire Sea, parting the encampment that lay in its path.

"The question before us now is expedition security," said Gijantus, returning to the topic at hand. "How many warriors can we spare to protect our Summoner?"

"Wouldn't that be limited by the capacity of this gentleman's vehicle?" asked another cabal leader.

"I don't need that much," said Grehl. "I'll be with James."

Gijantus looked at James' relatively scrawny figure and rolled his eyes.

"I'll be along as well," said Urszula. "Me and my gun."

The attendees sent the tent abuzz with murmurs.

"A gun, did you say?"

James shrugged. "I can take six in the cab and whoever we can fit in back."

"So three more," said Grehl. "The fewer the better, I say."

"I disagree," said a woman down the end of the table. "It would behoove us all to have a representative. As witnesses, if nothing else."

"Fine," said Grehl. "Send whoever. But I would suggest that no one else breaks camp to join us, until we know whether this will work."

"Those who were itching to go are already gone," said Gijantus. "The rest of us are in this for the long haul, I would imagine."