by Zen DiPietro
Arc handed the device to Kassimeigh. “That area isn’t one we’ve sampled, so it must not have shown up on satellite.”
“Are you free to go, or do you have responsibilities?” she asked Élan. Kassimeigh studied the tiny viewscreen, then handed it back to Arc.
“I’d planned to stay the whole weekend, but I’m not committed to anything specific.” Élan considered. “I suppose I could leave whenever you need. There will always be another gathering somewhere.”
“Good.” The song circle had been more enjoyable than Kassimeigh had anticipated, but she had work to do. “We’d like to get going as soon as possible.”
“I did say could,” Élan pointed out. “Theoretically. Why should I come with you?”
“Because our planet has been damaged. Something’s destroying part of the hinterlands. If we don’t figure it out, our planet could suffer serious harm. We don’t exactly have spare planets lying around, just in case this one gets ruined.” She paused, letting Élan feel the weight of her scrutiny.
Surprisingly, Élan simply returned her stare. She felt a grudging respect, and tried another tack. “If the fact that you could be of help to your planet and your government is not enough, then you might consider that the unique experience of helping us could be a source for your creative imaginings. New experiences are the lifeblood of an artist, right?”
She let that suggestion linger for a moment before adding, “And if that still isn’t enough to motivate you, I can offer you a paycheck from the Council to compensate you for your time.”
“Actually, you had me at ‘new experiences.’ Sign me up.”
“Then you don’t want the paycheck?”
“Oh, I definitely do. Sign me up for that, too.”
“Can you be ready to go in an hour?”
Élan raised an eyebrow at Kassimeigh. “You don’t waste any time, do you?”
Kassimeigh duplicated the eyebrow raise. “I endeavor not to. I prefer to be productive.”
“Ahh, but in my line of work, sometimes the best way to be productive is by doing nothing at all.”
Élan wore a teasing expression, but instead of being annoyed, Kassimeigh felt a twinge of amusement.
“Taking time to consider and reflect is a highly valued practice among shivs, as well. You and I might not be as different as you think.”
Élan blinked in surprise. Clearly, she’d expected a far different type of answer. Hah.
Without waiting for a reply, Kassimeigh stood. “I’ll start breaking down our tent and meet you back here when you’re ready.”
Kassimeigh strode away and Arc caught Élan studying him with a puzzled frown.
“What?”
“I’m just wondering what I’ve gotten myself into.”
He grinned. “No idea. But I’m glad you’re along for the ride.”
She didn’t seem mollified, but he had no idea what they were in for, either. He couldn’t exactly offer assurances.
He glanced over his shoulder, but Kassimeigh had already disappeared from view.
“Wouldn’t be sporting of me to sit here while she does all the work. I’ll see you in a bit.” He followed in Kassimeigh’s wake.
When he arrived at their campsite, he found the tent half-assembled and getting no closer to dismantlement. Kassimeigh had apparently abandoned the effort and now stood frowning at two of the tent poles as if they’d done something offensive.
“Did they misbehave? Say the word and I’ll thrash them.”
“What? Oh.” Kassimeigh broke out of her reverie and smiled at Arc’s joke. “Actually, I had an idea.”
“An idea involving tent poles? Hmm.” Arc peered at the tent poles, but whatever possibility they had suggested to Kassimeigh, they were not revealing it to him. “I give up. What’s the plan?”
“Fifteen miles of uneven terrain is going to take several hours to hike.”
“Of course.” He was perfectly accustomed to that.
“It doesn’t have to take so long.”
“No?”
The sly gleam in her eyes riveted his attention. “I can do better for us. Here.” She moved the poles so that they were parallel to one another. Then she fetched several branches and laid them between the poles. She studied them for a moment, then muttered something under her breath that he couldn’t hear.
Her shoulders straightened, as if she’d come to a decision. She sat down next to her collection and Arc recognized her intense concentration and deep breathing. She closed her eyes and he sensed her focus shifting inward. He could only imagine the power that surged into her as she pulled it from the atmosphere around them and harnessed it within herself. He wondered how it felt to her.
Through their soulbond, he sometimes had the vaguest impressions of her experiences, but they were so elusive that they might be mere imaginings. As someone who couldn’t hold mana, he’d never know what a mana signature looked or felt like, or how it felt to harness. His lack of mana talent had never concerned him, but now that he had a manahi bondmate, he did notice it at regular intervals.
Kassimeigh rested her hands on the branches, wearing a look of intense focus. The branches lost their roundness and flowed into one another as though melting. They bonded together as one, then flattened out and expanded into a single sturdy sheet of wood. The edges adhered themselves to the tent poles and melded. When Kassimeigh opened her eyes, a rectangular board similar to a tabletop lay on the ground before her. She stood, dusted off her hands, then picked up one end and tested its sturdiness.
“There we are.” Her voice rang with satisfaction.
“Oh, I can’t wait to see where this goes.”
“Where what goes?” Élan approached them, looking curious. Apparently, she’d decided not to wait for them in the clearing. She wore a rucksack and several containers on her back. The gear dwarfed her small frame, but Arc was impressed by how quickly she’d gotten ready.
“You won’t need all that.” Kassimeigh gestured to Élan’s encumbrances. “This should just be a day trip. Can you leave your things behind with someone?”
“Sure, I could leave stuff with Sim, but how can we get there and back in one day? It should take us five or six hours just to get there.”
“Not today, it won’t. Please, rearrange your items and bring only what you need for a day trip.”
“Oookay.” The word dragged out of Élan like a piece of caramel, stretching out and drooping in the middle. “I’ll be back in a few minutes.”
As promised, she returned with only a small pack on her back. Kassimeigh nodded approval, then gestured at the structure she’d fashioned. “Good. Let’s give this a try.”
Élan eyed the thing. “What is it, a magic picnic-table portal?”
Arc burst into laughter. He liked Élan and her dauntlessness. She never shied away from speaking her mind.
Kassimeigh ignored the outburst, shrugging her own pack onto her back and stepping onto the wooden rectangle. She sat and waited patiently. Arc’s and Élan’s eyes met, and then they obediently took a seat on either side of Kassimeigh.
“Okay. So, this should work. Just don’t make any sudden movements.”
Before Arc or Élan could utter a protest, Kassimeigh’s shoulders tightened and their new conveyance floated up into the air with only the slightest wobble. After a moment of adjustment, it rested evenly in midair.
“There we go.” Though still intent while she focused on her mana use, Kassimeigh’s faint smile suggested she was pleased with her improvisation. Slowly, they rotated in a circle in one direction, then stopped and rotated the other direction. They drifted lower to the ground then boosted up higher again. Arc reconsidered his decision to sit on this thing.
“Just learning the controls,” Kassimeigh reassured them. “Right then. We’re off.”
Their flying litter glided through the air soundlessly. It was a bit odd, Arc reflected, to travel thus. He heard no mechanical sound and felt no vibration or push of propulsion. They simply s
ailed through the air with the wind streaming through their hair.
“This is awesome!” Arc laughed, and Élan joined him with giddy giggles. “Why haven’t we done this before?” Arc asked Kassimeigh.
She kept her eyes ahead, watching for tree branches or hanging vines that could catch them up. “I never thought of it.”
Arc liked the tiny twist of a smile that Kassimeigh wore as he and Élan laughed again.
About an hour later, Kassimeigh brought the litter in for a smooth landing at the coordinates Élan had indicated. The fun of their impromptu flight ended abruptly when they saw the physical damage. Sudden sadness pressed on Élan’s chest. From the look of it, this spot would soon be as dead as the others.
She turned in a slow circle, scanning their surroundings. “It’s begun here, too. If it’s like the other spot, all the plants will be gone within a couple months.”
The trees and grasses looked as though someone had chewed on them. Partially denuded trees stood with leaves hanging in tatters. Small patches of dirt here and there marred the blanket of undergrowth.
Kassimeigh reached above her head to pluck a leaf from the tree, then examined the rough-hewn edges. “This doesn’t look like decay or sickness. It looks like a buffet in progress.”
“This is what you saw before?” Arc asked Élan.
“Yes.” She ran her fingers through her windblown hair in an attempt to smooth her long, silver tangles. She had begun to despair of making any progress when her hair lifted up from her head like a nimbus, did a funky little dance, and laid back down in a smooth, silky arrangement.
Élan’s lips parted in surprise, then she laughed. “Did you just think of mana hairdos, too?”
“I did.” Kassimeigh’s matter-of-fact tone lilted with a note of satisfaction.
Élan crossed her arms over her chest, studying Kassimeigh. The former shiv bore the scrutiny with unperturbed equanimity. “Mana use is clearly new to you, the way you discover things as you go along. You said as much, too, a while back. What’s the story?”
Kassimeigh sat on a patch of grass and indicated that Élan should do the same. Unobtrusively, Arc joined them.
“My mana was blanketed when I was a child. I don’t know if you’re aware, but cabalites are genetically wonky when it comes to mana, so our children were routinely blanketed before any latent abilities could develop. Several months ago, I was involved in an event that resulted in my blanket being burned off. I began to use mana, and received extensive training.”
That made no sense, as far as Élan understood such things. “How could your blanket be burned off, and what happened after?”
Kassimeigh blew out a slow breath. “It’s a long story. The shortest version is that Arc and I have a soulbond, and he inadvertently unblanketed me. We were among a large group, forced into a situation that we couldn’t survive, so I accessed my mana for the first time. With no training. It wasn’t nice.”
“What happened?”
Kassimeigh hesitated. Her gaze shifted to something in the distance.
Arc broke in. “She turned into a phoenix and kicked all kinds of ass.” He grinned at Élan’s shocked expression and elaborated, “She flew. Breathed fire. It was awesome.”
Élan sat back on her heels and stared at Kassimeigh with equal parts fear and awe. She knew it couldn’t be a lie, but it didn’t seem possible, either. Élan’s reaction seemed to annoy Kassimeigh.
“It was uncontrolled and I almost died.” She waved her arm dismissively. “The important thing is that I got extensive training, and now I’m in complete control of my mana. Proper training makes all the difference.”
“I’d never know you’d only had your mana for a few months. Still,” Élan contradicted herself, “I can tell that using mana isn’t ingrained in you the way it is for people who grew up with it.” A kaleidoscope of thoughts rolled through her mind.
“Yes. I’m still working it all out, to be honest.”
Élan decided to live dangerously. “Is that why you seem so annoyed most of the time?”
Kassimeigh grinned, which Élan hadn’t expected. “No. The first time we met, you tried to influence me with your mana. The second time, we were at the song circle, and I’m uncomfortable in large groups. In other circumstances you might find me quite the cutup.”
Élan’s laughter cut through the relative quiet of the area. She didn’t know Kassimeigh well, but she doubted the generally grave-looking woman was ever a cutup. Still, she was joking now, and it was as unexpected as it was disarming. “But why do big social groups make you uncomfortable, when you grew up in a cabal? I’d think it would be like coming home to you.”
“I thought the same, until it happened. It was nostalgic to see the gathering, and your friends were lovely, but I prefer small groups.”
“You do seem more content now.”
“I am. I wonder about you, though. You enjoy the gatherings, but you’re also a fan of hanging out in the middle of nowhere all by yourself.” Kassimeigh gestured toward the trees. “Particularly in these high-mana areas.”
“I’m always happiest with other bards, but alone time gives me focus to create. Very few bards have any mana sense and being out here helps me address the mana component of my music.” She knew her talent made her music special, but saying so would sound too boastful.
Kassimeigh considered her next words carefully. “I haven’t seen anyone else who uses mana the way you do. Rather than harnessing it, you seem to siphon it. You’re less of a vessel and more of a conduit.”
The mechanics of it had never really concerned Élan. She cared little about how it worked. She only cared that it did. “I do what I can with what I have. I know it’s relatively little.”
“It’s unique, and as someone who is also unique, I can tell you that novelty isn’t a bad thing. I’m intrigued by what you do, and I’d really like to study it closer.”
“Why?”
“I see flickers of something in your mana use that intrigues me. It begs questions that I can’t fully form, and I want to complete those questions so we can move on to finding the answers.” She fixed her eyes on Élan’s wary gray ones. “Sometimes we change the world just by being in it. Who are we to deny the world its due?”
Élan sensed that Kassimeigh’s personal story with mana contained a whole bunch of more intriguing details than what the woman had shared. The only way she’d ever get to know Kassimeigh well enough would be to allow a connection between them. As wary as she was, caught in the deep, still eyes of this woman, Élan decided that if she didn’t take this opportunity in her life she would always regret it.
“What would I have to do?”
“I want to link to you while you use your mana, so I can feel the way you experience it. I’ll just be a passenger watching you drive. I promise, that’s all I’d do.”
The promise was somehow a harbinger of possibilities more than it was a reassurance. “What would be the alternative to that? What else could you do, if you wanted?”
Kassimeigh’s eyes conveyed a deep sense of something, but Élan couldn’t be certain of what. Sadness? Fatigue? “Don’t worry. You’ll be safe. You have my word.”
Well, that wasn’t a very comforting response, either. “I’ll think about it.”
“Fine. While you do, I’m going to do some work with the mana here.” Kassimeigh strode away, toward a copse of trees.
Arc stepped closer to a large mosswood that was just beginning to look tattered and ran his hand over its trunk. “I’m going to go have a good look around. See if there’s anything begging to be noticed.”
Élan wondered what she could do while she waited. She wasn’t qualified to do any sort of mana testing and Arc was better equipped to do a survey of the land. She was a bard. She decided she’d do what came naturally to her, which was exactly what she did when she visited these areas on her own.
She shrugged off her backpack and extracted a small case. She flicked open the latch and grasped three
parts of a slender flute. Deftly, she assembled the pieces, checked the valves and keys, and settled herself against the trunk of a friendly looking young tree. Above her, its branches hung in a tangle of overlapping reaches.
A prickle of sadness tugged at her, knowing that soon this tree might be eaten away by some unseen force. After the leaves disappeared, the bark would start to go, and the trunk would gradually wear down to a nub. Seeing such a grand tree on its way to destruction put a weight on her heart.
Lifting her flute to her lips, she began to play an elegy. At first, the notes were small, and they melted into the vastness of the forest. Gradually, the strength of the song grew with a sense of melancholy that rose into the air like a fog. As she played, she watched Kassimeigh.
She could see mana flaring out around the manahi in a corona of brilliant light. She’d seen manahi use mana, of course, but she’d seen nothing like this. The unique beauty of it tore away Élan’s defenses and left her awed by what seemed to her a visual representation of music. Surely if music were something visible, it would be this beautiful, breathtaking, and inspiring.
The light of the mana glow ran through the entire color spectrum in a systematic cacophony. The wildness of it was tempered by the control of the statuesque woman in the center, who mastered the whirling eddies of mana in a way that again reminded Élan of the relationship between musician and music.
Élan’s song soared and her eyes caught again on the tree above her. The leaves on one side hung in tatters. The other half of the tree looked perfectly hale, as if it hadn’t yet realized something was happening on the other side. I could save this one, she thought to herself. At least for a while.
She let her guard fall. Unlike real manahi, she did not reach out for mana. It reached in to her. All she had to do was let it. Élan opened the conduit between her and Terath. In this spot, the power felt so strong. A river of mana swelled through her and she concentrated on guiding it out through the music. This was why she liked these dead zones. Here she felt a beautiful flow of energy, unlike the small trickle she usually experienced.
