by Jon Chaisson
*
“We’re almost out of time,” Denni said to no one in particular.
“We have more than we need,” Poe said and craned his neck back from the driver’s seat. “According to Kindeiya, we have another four hours.”
Denni snorted. “A lot can happen.” They had been driving around aimlessly for two hours already, not really searching for anything, not even trying to find a place to await the inevitable…and she knew that she would eventually make her way to the Moulding Warehouse, even if everyone else tried to prevent it. She dared not show her thoughts to the others, let alone tell them, but she’d immediately understood why she had to be there at that time. It was all part of the delicate balance she had to protect.
Should she tell them that keeping her from her duties was pointless, that she knew she’d eventually fulfill Kindeiya’s prophecy, by whatever means? She could go there now, at least through this newly acquired ability of Lightwalking. This way she would be present, at least spiritually. Just the idea of it exhausted her, however. Her head was still spinning from the all the travel. Even though she had regained her energy, her instincts told her not to waste any more.
Denysia.
She heard Caren’s soft voice calling within her. She glanced around at the others in the car, wondering if anyone else heard her. She was in the back seat, sandwiched between Caren and Ashan. She half-smiled…it occurred to her that this car was probably the safest place in the entire Sprawl right now.
Again, she wasn’t quite sure how she knew this…just that it made sense. It was that unspoken soulsensing that all Mendaihu had, of understanding the spirit and its intent. She understood that most of all. After a moment, she decided that it didn’t matter if the others heard them as they spoke within. They knew well enough to honor their privacy.
Karinna, she answered back.
She felt Caren’s hand reach over and take hers, squeezing it once. She smiled softly, like she always had done when she watched over her since she was small. Always protective, always loving. You may be the One of All Sacred, but you’re still my little sister, she said. I can still kick your butt if you get out of line.
A snort of laughter burst out of her before she could stop it. She felt her face redden, and again wondered if anyone else had heard that. I’ll keep it in mind, she said, only half in jest. She knew that, underneath this grand spectacle of religious fervor that would soon come to her unbidding, Caren would always see her as her little sister and she would never stop watching over her.
