The Dawning of Power

by Brian Rathbone

  As they came closer to the river, they were surprised by what they saw: the water level was extremely low, the flow muddy and sluggish. The water was well below the normal watermarks, and they estimated it was less than half what it should be.

  By the time they reached the base of the falls, the sun was high in the sky, and Benjin said he planned to use the sun for cover. They would climb the jagged cliff wall while the sun was high, which would make it harder for soldiers to spot them with the sunlight in their eyes. He found a place far enough away from the falls for them to remain dry, and there were many irregularities in the rock face, which would make for an easier climb.

  Their ascent was slow and tenuous, irregular rocks providing some handholds and footholds, but in many places they were widely spaced. In some instances they had to scale the nearly sheer face with little, if anything, to grab onto. When they finally reached the plateau, they did not find the river they had been expecting and instead saw a muddy lake that covered almost the entire plateau. Chase spotted the cause of the flooding near the top of the falls. The recent storms had downed a large number of trees. At least a dozen had been swept away by the river and were creating a dam just before the falls, where the river narrowed. Only a fraction of the water flowed past the debris; the rest continued to flood the plateau.

  A narrow ribbon of land separated the newly formed lake from the cliff, but it was clearly saturated. The valley beyond the plateau was completely swamped by the backed-up river, effectively cutting off their escape.

  "Cripes," Benjin said, "we're going to need to find a way around this. Stay alert." An enormous rock finger jutted into the air above the valley. Skirting the lake, they plodded through the mud, which threatened to remove their boots with every step. At times they walked through ankle-deep water. Around the rock finger, the soil border was less than a pace wide. The promontory was slender and appeared fragile, warped and twisted by eons of windborne sand.

  "Stay back. I'm going out for a look," Benjin said.

  "You aren't really thinking of walking out on that rock, are you?" Strom asked, incredulous. "That thing looks like it could fall at any moment, even without your weight on it."

  "It's been here for thousands of years, and I'm betting it'll be here for thousands more; its frailty is only an illusion."

  Benjin crept onto the rock; the winds whipped around him, and he was nearly blown off. He caught himself, but the movement sent rocks bouncing into the valley below.

  "I think we've been spotted," he said. "There are soldiers below, and they are climbing toward us. We need to retreat as fast as we can; we must go back the way we came. I don't think we'll be able to get through the flooded valley without ruining our food supply or drowning."

  Catrin sat to one side, absorbed in her thoughts, and with every moment her anger grew. The Zjhon threatened everything she held dear. Struggling to think of a way to stop the approaching army, or at least hamper its progress, she stewed, biting her lip. Benjin interrupted her thoughts.

  "C'mon, li'l miss, we need to get out of here."

  Catrin wondered if she was making a mistake; then she recalled the words Nat had written: "Embrace your role as the Herald. I implore you to use the divine gift you have been given." She considered those words, and they urged her to act.

  "No," she said in a firm voice. "I will not run from this challenge, and I will no longer tolerate these invaders of my homeland."

  "What would you have us do, Catrin? I am yours to command," Benjin said, shocking everyone. He knelt in the sodden soil and bowed to her. Chase, Strom, and Osbourne stood silently.

  Catrin considered her next words carefully, not knowing what she was going to say or do. She looked around her, and the muddy water brought back a part of Nat's message, one line in particular, and she said, "The water shapes the land."

  "I want you to dig. From here," she said, pointing to the soil around the base of the finger of rock, "to here. We need a trough from the dry to the wet, and it should be as deep as possible."

  "What are you talking about, Cat? We don't have time for this; we need to get out of here," Chase said.

  "We cannot run anymore, Chase; there is nowhere safe to hide. I choose to fight," she said, and she began to dig with her bare hands as Benjin loosened the soil with his sword. All but Chase began to dig, but he soon crouched down along with the rest. The trench grew quickly, the sodden soil making their work easier.

  "Stay on the north side of the trench," Catrin warned.

  "But we need to go south to escape," Chase argued, looking at a massive fist of rock that blocked their path and would not budge.

  "Just dig around it," Catrin said, following Chase's gaze. "The trench need not be straight." As they dug their way closer to the water, the ditch began to flood, and they continued to dig from higher ground. As water began pouring over the cliff's edge, Catrin and Benjin looked over to see what was happening below.

  A few soldiers watched from the valley floor, but most were scaling the cliff face in an effort to reach them. Catrin and the others watched the water move through the ditch, eroding the soil around it. Deeper and wider the trough grew, gradually sending larger amounts of water into the valley, but it was not enough; it was happening far too slowly to make any difference. It mocked their meager effort, and helplessness washed over Catrin.

  She watched the flow intently, seeing tremendous potential energy latent in the calm water, and she knew there must be a way to unleash it. Without realizing it, she opened her mind to Istra's energy and attempted to ply it with her will. She started by trying to push the water over the edge, hoping to make it go faster, but the water repelled her.

  Any force she exerted on the water became fragmented, scattered in a hundred directions, and her efforts had no visible effect. Her frustration flared into anger, and she turned to the rest of the group. "Go north. I'll catch up with you soon."

  "But, Cat--" Chase began, but she cut him short.

  "If you value your lives, go north. Now!" she said in a commanding voice, despite her fear. Her legs trembled; her face flushed and nostrils flared; her heart pounded in her ears. Chase and the others headed north, frequently looking over their shoulders. A strange feeling came over her as she watched Chase walk away. So many times she had followed him on his adventures, but now she knew she must stand alone. As she embraced the energy around her, she prayed she would not unwittingly create another disaster. The lives of her friends now rested in her hands, and she was determined to save them.

  With confidence born of every lesson her father and Benjin and Chase had ever taught her, Catrin moved to the finger of rock. Its base had been exposed by the modest flow of water that rushed by, but she strode to the end of the finger, seemingly oblivious to the winds tearing at her. Doing her best to keep from trembling, she spoke in a voice that carried across the Pinook Valley.

  "Armies of the Zjhon! You are not welcome here," she began. In the next moment, though, she panicked. No more words would come; her throat was closing. She was no hero; she felt like just a little girl. Old fears constricted her heart, and she nearly fled, but then, in her mind, she saw the faces of Benjin and Chase and her friends. With a fire burning in her belly, she renewed her commitment and tried to find words befitting a great hero. "I am the keeper of this land, and I forbid you passage. Retreat now, or feel the weight of my wrath!" she said, and her statement carried on the air to the soldiers below.

  They laughed at such threats coming from a girl, and Catrin turned without another word. She strode back to the edge of the widening trough, gazing at it a moment more before moving north. Some fifty paces away, she stopped, hoping Chase wasn't right. Maybe she had lost her senses, but it was far too late to turn back. She would have to endure the consequences of her decisions and actions.

  Facing the cliff, she felt the heat of her anger toward the invaders, and it purged her fears. Her body quivered with energy as she gathered it and pulled it to her, reveling in its glory. She
could smell its fragrance and taste its sweetness, but a searing pain in her left thigh distracted her for a moment, feeling as if her limb were on fire. She ignored it and drew in a deep breath, letting the soldiers' laughter feed her rage.

  "You bear witness to the Call of the Herald," she announced. "I have warned you, and you have mocked me, and you will suffer for that." She clasped her hands high above her head, energy swirling through her fingers and dancing over her palms. It pulsed around her. She brought her hands down in a powerful arc as she shouted, "You will not pass!"

  When her fists struck the soil, a huge shockwave sent ripples of power through the plateau with a massive, echoing boom, and the land pulsed as if it were liquid. Waves of energy rolled away from her. The floodwaters transferred the energy as waves crashed against the irregularity of the far cliffs and returned to punish the saturated shoreline. Unable to withstand the power of the water, large sections of rock and soil were dislodged and pushed into the Pinook Valley.

  As tremors shook the ground beneath her feet, Catrin ran toward her companions. The massive chain reaction gained momentum, and the thunderous roar became nearly unbearable, but even in her retreat, Catrin was compelled to witness what she had wrought. Water crashed around the finger of rock, carrying gobbets of dirt and rock away with it, and with an ear-shattering crack, the rock slumped forward and leaned into the valley. Water rushed in eagerly to fill the gap, and a tremendous roar reverberated through the valley; Catrin watched in disbelief as the finger of rock tumbled away in the deluge.

  In a massive release of potential energy, water assailed rock and soil, and the cliffs parted. Gravity pulled the water into the valley, and the din of a massive rockslide accompanied the rush of the fall.

  Rock and debris clogged the valley, and a towering wall of water rushed to greet the main body of the advancing army. Cries of man and horse rose above the din, but Catrin had no time to consider what her senses told her as more of the plateau began to collapse. She fled the devastation and tried to catch up to the rest of the group, already moving swiftly north. The Upper Chinawpa Valley, which lay ahead, drained quickly, and muddy shores rose from the depths; there Catrin's friends stopped to wait for her.

  Unsure of what to say, she approached them tentatively, half expecting them to tell her she was crazy or leave her behind, but they welcomed her silently.

  Chase grabbed her in a bear hug. "I'm sorry I doubted you," he whispered.

  Benjin held up his hand to speak. "You have followed me, but I can no longer lead you," he said. "I've heard the Call of the Herald, and I will go wherever she leads me, I will do what she asks of me, and I will lay down my life to save hers," he finished, bowing to Catrin.

  The others made similar vows, and Catrin was left to stand in wonder. She'd had no preparation for this, and she did not know what was expected of her. She knew that she was leaving one reality and stepping into a new existence, and she was unsure of the consequences of this new power.

  Finally, Strom broke the uncomfortable silence. "I'm just glad Catrin's on our side."

  * * *

  Sweat dripped into Nat's eyes as he scrambled down a craggy face. He climbed with a mixture of haste and care. His experience urged him to exercise caution, but his instincts told him he must flee. The Zjhon were close--closer than ever before. Already he had been near enough to see their eyes. Using his staff to steady himself, he climbed past an awkward outcropping.

  When he reached the narrow band of greenery that stood between the base of the mountain and the sand, Nat cursed. He was starving and exhausted. After giving up on finding Catrin, all he had wanted was to get back to town, to find some way to get to Miss Mariss and food. The need for food and water was sapping his strength and his sanity. Several times he had found himself wandering without any idea of where he was going or where he had been; all he could remember was that he needed to keep moving.

  Suddenly stopping, he realized he'd done it again. Ankle deep in sand, he turned and only the mountains behind him gave him a sense of where he was. What he saw when he lowered his gaze made his location seem irrelevant: half a dozen mounted men were heading straight for him, and there was little Nat could do but wait for them to arrive. Maybe they would give him food, he thought, but what was left of his reason suggested it was unlikely. Turning away from the Zjhon, back the way his subconscious had been leading him, he walked. When he raised his eyes again, certain the Zjhon would overtake him at any moment, he was confused to find that he must have gotten turned around again, for before him came riders in a cloud of dust.

  Chapter 12

  If you wish to find yourself, you must first admit you are lost.

  --anonymous philosopher

  * * *

  Catrin left the crumbling plateau behind, her body throbbing with energy, her senses heightened. As the breeze caressed her skin, the hairs on her arms and neck stood up. The roar of the mudslide pounded against her overly sensitive hearing, and she retreated from the din. Followed by Benjin and the others, she headed toward the northern end of the valley. There the mountains turned east and the valley grew wider. With little dry ground, they had to slog through a foul morass. Clinging mud made loud sucking noises as it hung on to their boots, weighing them down.

  As the valley widened farther on, small sections of dry land appeared more often, like giant turtles in a sea of murky water. The valley floor was made up of rolling hills, and when they found dry spots at the tops of hills, it was only before they descended into valleys of muck. Puddles harbored fish stranded by the rapidly receding water.

  Catrin wanted to take the fish back to the river, but she knew it would require too much time to do it right. She and Benjin had spent hours once catching fish in buckets after they were stranded by the Pinook River, which had overflowed its banks. Because the fish would die if they were quickly moved from warm water and put into frigid river water, they put the buckets into the river at the shallows until the water temperature gradually dropped. Then they tipped the buckets over so the fish could swim out. She had enjoyed seeing the fish disappear into the river, safe, and wished she could save these fish too, but there was no time.

  The mountains threw long shadows as the waning sun set fire to the skies; bold strokes of crimson and ocher made for a breathtaking display. Patches of dry land gradually became larger, and some were almost suitable campsites. "I think that hill up ahead looks like a good place to camp," Catrin announced.

  "There's not much cover there. I think we should try to find a better hiding place," Benjin advised.

  "No," she said quietly, determined to embrace her new role, despite her insecurities. "I'm not going to hide anymore. I have to show the Zjhon I don't fear them. Instead, I will strike fear into them. Let them find us in the open, sitting by our fire, and let them see we are not hiding. Let us invite them to take us if they will. They will feel my wrath if they do."

  No one but Benjin seemed to know what to make of the change in Catrin. He had accepted her as the Herald and let her be in complete control of their destinies. The others had known Catrin most of her life--and theirs--and seemed to have a difficult time accepting her now as the figure of legend from the prophecies. But they had seen too much of her power to deny it, and slowly they came to believe.

  "As you wish," Benjin said with a short bow. He walked ahead to look for dry wood; Chase matched his stride. Strom and Osbourne remained alongside Catrin as she headed toward the campsite.

  "Is there anything you need us to do, Miss Catrin?" Osbourne asked, looking uncertain.

  Catrin sighed. "Please don't call me 'Miss Catrin' . . . not you or Strom or Chase. You're my friends, and I need you. I'm sorry I bossed everyone around and was so mean," she said, sounding much more like herself.

  "Oh, that's all right, Miss Catrin," Strom said with an impish grin. "We know you have the whole 'Herald of Istra' thing to contend with. We could probably forgive you for being weird."

  "I want you to dig," Osbourne sai
d in a high-pitched voice, "from here"--he posed and pointed--"to here," he finished with a flourish.

  "You best be careful, Osbo. You don't want risk the wrath of Miss Catrin. Fear the wrath, boy. Fear the wrath," Strom said as he ducked away from Catrin's playful jab.

  While she was relieved to know she had not lost her friends, Benjin's behavior concerned her. His sudden change in personality was as bizarre as her own, and she needed to talk to him soon, but she feared she would insult him. She had looked up to him for so many years, and he had always been the first one to help her with her unusual ideas. She would never hurt him on purpose, but she did need to understand some things about him.

  When they reached the top of the hill, Chase and Benjin were setting up a fire circle beside a small supply of firewood already stacked to one side.

  "You're absolutely certain about the campsite and the fire, Catrin?" Benjin asked.

  His use of her name annoyed her for reasons unknown, and she suppressed her irritation. "Yes, this will be fine. Strom, Osbourne, you asked if there was anything you could do, and now there is. Would you gather fish from the puddles please?"

  Strom and Osbourne both nodded, and they left seeking fish.

  Catrin turned to Chase. "Can we talk for a moment, please? I really need to know your opinion on something."

  Chase raised an eyebrow and nodded before following her. A nearby tree grew around a large bolder, cradling it in its massive trunk, like a great claw clutching a mystical orb. Catrin climbed atop the bolder and sat cross-legged.

  "Do you believe I'm truly the Herald of Istra?" she asked. Chase had always been her closest confidant, and they trusted one another. Before their tragic deaths, their mothers had been quite close, and Chase and Catrin had spent most of their childhoods together. Chase had the same pain she had, and she knew he would be honest with her.