across the ground.” Jedra held out his arms to encompass the whole forest, and he laughed. “This is evidently some ancient paradise. People must have come here to play in a perfect world.”
Kayan bent down to take a drink from the pool. “Perfect is right,” she said. “This place is incredible.”
“And now we have it all to ourselves.” Jedra held out his hand. “Come on, let’s see what else the ancients did for fun.”
* * *
The stream led down out of the forested mountains, new tributaries adding to its volume until it became a rushing torrent. Jedra and Kayan followed along its grassy banks, scaring up butterflies and birds as they swished through the tall stalks. The noise of rushing water made talk difficult, and the crystal clarity of mind-speaking was too jarring a contrast against the rich depth of sound around them, so they merely walked hand in hand and enjoyed the play of light and shadow amid more greenery than they had ever seen before in their lives.
Then, as they rounded a sharp bend in the river, they heard an even louder roar ahead of them. The water seemed to disappear into the ground just a little way in front of them, but when they drew closer they realized that it fell over a cliff. Cautiously, they stepped up to the edge and looked over. The river fell free for over a hundred feet, spray blowing away from it as it fell, then it thundered into a wide circular pool surrounded by rocks and trees.
Jedra looked out over the treetops and nearly fell off the cliff, for about halfway to the horizon stood a city, its buildings shining bright white in the sunlight, and beyond the city was more water than he had ever believed existed. It stretched from the sandy slopes beyond the city all the way to the horizon, and from left to right as far as they could see before cliffs and forest blocked their view.
What is that? Jedra asked.
I think it’s the ocean. Kayan teetered forward, and Jedra pulled her back a few steps from the cliff edge. The view out there was too hypnotic.
What’s the ocean?
It’s where all the water goes when there’s more than people can use it. The Sea of Silt used to be an ocean before the cataclysm, or so I’ve been told.
The Sea of Silt was a deep basin full of dust many miles to the east of most of the inhabited land of Athas. Jedra tried to imagine it full of water instead, and decided that it might indeed have looked something like this.
They watched waves slide toward the beach, grow taller as they approached, then curl over and splash into white foam and coast to a stop on the flat sand.
The roar of the waterfall at their feet kept them from hearing the waves. Jedra heard something, though. Puzzled, he turned his head, just in time to see a huge furry black beast advancing on them. It stood on four legs and had thick, shaggy hair that seemed to ripple as it moved. Its head was long and wide on a short neck, and multiforked horns stuck up from either side. It shook its head and bellowed again.
“Look out!” Jedra shouted.
“What?” Kayan couldn’t hear him.
A monster! Jedra mindsent.
Kayan whirled around, just as the beast lowered its head and ran straight for them.
Jedra tried to halt its charge through sheer force of will, shoving it back psionically the way he might move any other object, but whatever effect he had on it was nothing compared to what it did to him. Before the creature’s pointed antlers even came close, he felt his feet slip backward on the slick grass. His heart slammed in his chest, pumping pure terror when the grass ended and he skidded out over the sheer drop. Time seemed to stop. He hung poised in the air for an instant, long enough to look straight into Kayan’s eyes and see the horror there before he plummeted toward the ground.
He was going to miss the pool. He looked down, saw the sharp rocks at the water’s edge rushing up at him, and knew he was dead. He couldn’t watch, but he couldn’t close his eyes either, so he looked back up at Kayan just in time to see her leap outward in a graceful dive, arms outstretched, her body silhouetted against the sky.
“No!” he screamed. Not her, too. If he could survive his own fall he