The Darkness Before the Dawn - By Ryan Hughes Page 0,49

the way to the end of the block, through the intersection, and paused in the rubble beyond where the building on the right side of the street had already collapsed. Kayan stopped next to him, and so did Jedra a moment later. They turned around to watch the last of the buildings—including the one they had been resting in only a few minutes earlier—thunder to the ground.

Jedra was horrified at the destruction they had unleashed. True, the city was abandoned and nearly ruined anyway, but to see building after building destroyed because of something he did made him want to scream in frustration. He hadn’t planned it this way. He couldn’t let Kitarak know that, however. When the rumbling finally stopped, they stood together in stunned silence for a moment before Jedra said, “Was that enough of a demonstration for you?”

The tohr-kreen clicked his mandibles again and again, as if having trouble speaking. Finally, his voice still full of clicks and buzzes, he said, “You didn’t have to do that! Throwing a single boulder across the street would have been enough!”

Kayan, picking up Jedra’s cue, said, “We wanted to make sure there was no doubt.”

Kitarak looked from them to the dust cloud—now drifting eastward on the breeze—and said, “‘Be careful what you ask for; you might get it.’ I did ask, didn’t I?”

“You did,” Jedra still felt guilty, but if Kitarak wanted to take responsibility for their mistake, let him. Maybe it would keep him from demanding any more demonstrations. “So are you ready to leave for Tyr now?”

Kitarak turned his compound eyes toward Jedra. This time there was no doubt what emotion his expressionless face was hiding. “Whether or not I am ready,” he said, “we must leave in any case.”

“Why?” asked Jedra.

“Because you have destroyed the well.”

Chapter Five

They had arrived from the south, climbing over piles of rubble for hours to reach the heart of the city. Now Kitarak led them westward along pathways he and others had cleared, and they reached the rocky plain beyond its edge in half that time. Turning to survey the ruins behind them, Jedra felt an immense sadness sweep through him. At one time, millennia ago, this had been a thriving center of life for thousands of people. What catastrophe had put an end to it? He would probably never know. But he would always know what had finished it off. The memory of all those high towers crashing to the ground would haunt him forever.

Nothing of value had survived. They had checked to be sure, but Kitarak had been right; the wellhead had been buried under tons of stone blocks. It would take hundreds of people with levers and ropes to dig down to it, and the likelihood that any of the pumping machinery had survived was practically nil. And without a water source, not even scavengers would come anymore. The city now belonged totally to the desert.

Kitarak turned away without a word and led the way into the vast rocky plain. He took long, slow strides, covering eight or ten feet at a time. Jedra and Kayan took three or four steps for every one of his, and soon they were puffing and panting to keep up.

Jedra had refused Kayan’s offer to heal his leg where it had been cut by the flying debris. It was only a surface wound over the calf muscle; he could let it heal naturally rather than tire her out. He almost wished he had let her do it, because the salt in his sweat was making it sting like crazy. His other muscles were complaining just as badly, though. “You’ve got to slow down,” he finally gasped. “We’re not going to make it another mile at this pace.”

Kitarak stopped and swiveled his head around. “Tyr is a long way away,” he said.

“I don’t care,” said Jedra. “We can’t walk this fast.”

The tohr-kreen rasped his arms against his thorax again. Jedra was growing certain that was his way of showing agitation. “Can’t your psionic power give you more endurance?” Kitarak asked.

“No,” Jedra said. “At least I don’t think so. Kayan?”

She was bent over, hands on her knees. She shook her head without looking up. “No, it can’t. Maybe for a little while, but we’d just tire out even faster in the long run.”

“How about levitation? Can’t you lift and move yourselves with the same force you used to level the city?”

“I don’t think that would get us much farther either,” she said, straightening up. “We