The Darkness Before the Dawn - By Ryan Hughes Page 0,33

case they proved hostile.

The oasis, however, wasn’t obvious. After a few minutes of flying—many miles under the roc’s immense wings—they realized it simply wasn’t there.

They hadn’t drifted that far off course during their hikes the previous day. There could be only one explanation, and they voiced it instantly: The elf chief lied. He had waited until Galar was out of earshot to give them directions to the oasis, and then he had sent them off to their deaths.

The roc screeched in anger. We should go back and teach him a lesson, they decided, and the great bird whirled around to fly east, but they immediately thought, No, we can’t waste our strength on simple revenge. We need to find a safe haven, and soon.

They swept over the desert in great circles, searching for an oasis, an outpost, a caravan—any sign of water or intelligent life that might be carrying water—but the elf chief had sent them directly into the most barren wastes in the region. They knew what lay to the east; they had just walked it, but the terrain to the north and south looked just the same. Only to the west did it change, but that change was hardly for the better. There they found only stony barrens and rocky badlands.

Beyond that, however…

The city of Tyr rested in a circular basin at the base of the Ringing Mountains. As dangerous as it was there, with King Kalak enslaving everyone who even looked at him wrong and forcing them to build an enormous pyramid in the center of the city, it was still better than dying in the desert. Trouble was, traveling on foot it was over a week’s walk away. They could never reach it on the provisions they carried with them.

Jedra and Kayan circled the enormous walled city, crying out in frustration with their psionic roc’s powerful call. They could be there now if they knew how to transport their bodies along with their minds. But they didn’t know. They hardly knew what they were doing as it was.

For the want of a mentor, we shall perish within sight of salvation, they thought.

The city glowed with the light of thousands of minds at work, one of which could undoubtedly teach them what they needed to know. But how could they find that one mind among so many? Some were brighter than others, but Jedra had learned the hard way that the signature of a powerful mind didn’t necessarily mean a friendly psionicist waited behind it. In Tyr, with its immense slave pens and massive military buildup to keep the peace, most of the psionicists would be slavemasters or warriors.

Arrgh! they cried in frustration. So close! All we need is a little help.

Their agitation weakened the contact. The roc began to diminish, and though their controlling minds remained linked, they separated into two distinct points of view.

The Kayan part of their mind said, It’s not going to happen. We’re wasting our strength; we’ve been linked too bug as it is. At this rate we’ll exhaust ourselves before we can even take our first steps toward anywhere.

What difference mill that make if we have nowhere to go? Jedra asked.

We can’t give up. Kayan said. We still have a day’s supplies. Two if we’re careful. Tyr is the closest sign of life; we’ll head there and hope to find some form of help along the way. There isn’t any—

Save it. Before Jedra could protest further, Kayan broke the link.

If coming down from their convergence was hard before, being dropped out of it unexpectedly was like feeling his own death. Jedra lurched drunkenly and had to put out his arms to keep from falling over.

“Yuh…” he tried to speak, but words wouldn’t form. You might have warned me! he mindsent instead.

It was the wrong thing to say, and saying it mentally was the wrong medium. They were both suffering from the post-link depression, and filtered through his frustration and hers, his mental words carried far more freight than spoken words ever could.

If you weren’t so indecisive, I wouldn’t have had to break away so abruptly, she snapped back at him.

Her meaning came across instantly, along with her contempt. He looked up to see her glaring at him. Indecisive? he sent back. I don’t call walking seven days to Tyr on two days’ rations a decision. I call that stupidity.

Oh, so what would you rather do? Wait here? Go back to the elves and say we’re sorry, will they take us back