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  Eideron’s anxiety was not unique. Several other Synod members had shared similar misgivings from their dreams or intuitions. Curious events brewed inside their protected haven, and his dreams left him wondering if similar things were happening outside Abalon too. The nature of those phenomena was unclear. The council still faced months of debate and strife before they reached a conclusion and fashioned a response to the events.

  Speaker Amoreya will not approve any action unless she sees the world ending in front of her. Amoreya is a righteous woman who tries to preserve righteousness and integrity. All the councilors pursue clarity of thought and purity of heart and seek to avoid the violent tendencies of the Eniila and Abrhaani. They work hard to maintain order and discipline, but they also remain rooted in place, too bound by fear and tradition to move forward. Eideron revised his thoughts. History is not the problem; it is the answer. Amoreya and the Synod are shortsighted.

  A long-forgotten passion stirred within Eideron, and he spoke aloud, practicing his oration. “We are shortsighted. Our history begins long before we arrived in Abalon, but none of us look beyond the time when our ancestors arrived in this valley. They built sheltered lives for us within Abalon’s protective walls. Protection became a dependency, and now we are addicted to safety and security.

  “We must gaze farther back in history for inspiration. Our forebears risked everything to cross the wasteland and build homes for us here, but now we, their offspring, dither over the slightest hazard. We must focus beyond the centuries of warfare our ancestors fled, beyond the Sundering, back to the time when the three species of mankind worked together in harmony. We Sokai must understand the Creator’s purpose for us. Instead of the blind, selfish, and complacent lives we now lead, we must grasp our destiny with both hands and become the people the Creator intended.

  “The Creator fashioned us to be the Seers and Speakers for humankind’s three species, and yet for eight hundred years, we have talked only to ourselves. We Sokai have become dotty old fools who mutter into our beards in our rooms while nobody listens.

  “Nobody hears us because we no longer have anything meaningful to say. We never leave our sanctuary and never invite anyone into our refuge. We must send someone to investigate the situation outside Abalon. We must follow the example of our ancestors, face danger, take risks, and return to our place among the other species.”

  Eideron hoped the speech would convince the Synod to move ahead. Even if I persuade them of the truth, they still must act. Who will the Synod send, how many will go, and where will they send them? The decades of debate engendered by such a mission make my head ache.

  A crash in the kitchen interrupted his ruminations. Sounds like Simea’s broken another plate. My crockery won’t survive that boy’s clumsiness. Eideron ignored the racket and called out, “Simea, is breakfast ready?”

  “Yes, Master Eideron. I tried to be quiet, but I dropped a plate. I am sorry if I disturbed you.”

  “Do not fret, youngster. I was awake and shall come out once I am dressed.”

  The lad grows half a span every tenday and thumbs have replaced all his fingers. Simea trips and stumbles around my quarters, and the youngster’s presence puts any breakable objects at risk. I’m in no mood for company this morning. Eideron listened for more sounds of catastrophe in the kitchen. When there weren’t any, he hoped his young apprentice had left.

  Eideron sighed and looked heavenward, and muttered, “I know, I’m being ungracious and grumpy.” Simea is a talented lad with an eager mind and a good heart, and he often perceives what I and others miss. The youngster shows incredible potential. Even at the cost of shattered china, my latest disciple is worth the effort. Eideron dressed and entered the kitchen, where breakfast and a silent apprentice both waited at the low wooden table. Simea hasn’t left after all.

  “Can I do something else for you, Master?”

  “No, lad, you have done enough damage for one morning.” Eideron smiled at Simea to soften the sting of his caustic humor. Eideron expected the lad to bow and leave. Instead, the youngster continued to stand at the table like a trapped animal, uncertain of his fate but powerless to prevent it. “Don’t worry about the plate, Simea. I can replace it.”

  After Eideron had absolved Simea of the broken dish, Eideron expected the boy to let him enjoy his breakfast alone. He settled onto his cushion.

  Simea, instead of leaving, hovered over his master, and looked more uncomfortable by the second. Eideron reclined on the pillow at the low table, ignored the boy’s distress, ate his breakfast, and waited to see if the lad had the nerve to speak. My friend Himish says I derive a guilty pleasure from my apprentice’s discomfort and rejects my claim that it builds character in the lad. Instead, he accuses me of a devilish streak of perversity.

  Simea was the fifth apprentice the Synod assigned to him, the fifth to undergo Eideron’s efforts at character building. The others were undoubtedly characters once I finished with them. Anyone headed for service in the Holy Orders needs a stiff backbone. Eideron suppressed a smile at the memories of other young men who served him in previous years and sighed. Sadly, I have outlived two of my former charges.

  “Master,” Simea began, tentative as usual.

  Eideron pretended not to hear. He continued to scoop up his breakfast and feigned a distracted thoughtfulness. Simea opened and closed his mouth while he fidgeted and blushed, reminding Eideron of a fish. I’ll bet he will turn and run. Instead of leaving, the boy swallowed hard, squared his shoulders, and began again.

  “Excuse me, Master.”

  Well, at least this time he was polite. He looked up at the boy with a stare calculated to instill panic. “If you must interrupt my breakfast, it had better be important.” He brandished his spoon at Simea like a sword and scowled at the youth. “Well, out with it! I don’t have all day!” He feigned impatience and enjoyed the way his contrived annoyance made it even more difficult for the lad to continue. “Well, spit out whatever has gotten stuck in your craw.”

  “Master, I have a question for you, I understand you are busy, but this girl—”

  “If you have questions about girls, ask one of the other masters—a younger one, or at least one whose wife has not been dead for many summers. Better still ask your parents—it’s their job to teach their children about romantic and biological functions.”

  CHAPTER THREE

  Kyonna

  Kyonna stood on the edge of the precipice, ready to plunge into the empty air beneath the ledge. She perched like a sparrow on the lip of the chasm, her tiny body dwarfed by the wingspan of the glider she piloted. Her body, clothed in the tight-fitting windproof flight suit, and her black ringlets, mostly secured under her padded cloth helmet, made her look even more birdlike. The ocher skin of her face, high cheekbones, and chiseled facial features accentuated the look.

  Kyonna grinned her crooked-toothed smile as she prepared to step into the void. The glimmer in her violet eyes betrayed her eagerness to get airborne. She pushed off into empty air and felt the familiar rush of excitement. The thermal embraced the wings of her glider like a lover. Today’s busy freight schedule meant she could spend the entire day airborne and soar above Abalon looking down on everyone instead of everyone looking down on her and her family. “Ah, the rush of the wind, the freedom from prejudice, the bugs in my teeth.” Her smile broadened. The air rushed past and whipped her black ringlets against her padded cloth helmet.

  As a Windrider, she carried freight across Abalon, and she had risen to prominence because of her talent. Her instincts and skill at detecting and riding the shifting air currents and dodging the steel cables of the overhead trams gave her elite status among her fellow Windriders. Ky’s loads, the heaviest of any Windrider, always arrived ahead of time and undamaged. When airborne, she ruled the sky, but in the valley, on the ground, she and her family faced constant prejudice and hostility.

  Her beauty and vivacious personality offset her social stigma as the daughter of a corrupted
woman, especially with young men who vied for her attention. She harbored no illusions that their interest went beyond sexual conquest.

  Knowing their intentions, she teased and tormented her suitors and never gratified their desires. The only boys she trusted were Eideron’s apprentice, Simea, and her close friend and mentor, Rais. Simea was like a brother to her and her older sister, Aibhera. Ky suspected Sim held romantic feelings for Aibhera, but he was too shy to speak of his love, and Aibhera was clueless that his interest in her was more than brotherly.

  Rais was several years older than Kyonna, and he had been her instructor when she became an apprentice Windrider. Their relationship had grown into a deep friendship. They often bantered and teased each other like lovers, but nothing serious ever grew from their mutual attraction other than deep respect and mutual trust. Neither of them seemed willing to change the status of their relationship and risk their friendship. Other Windriders believed Ky and Rais were lovers, and neither of them denied or confirmed their coworkers’ suspicions.

  The sun completed its arc above the crater’s rim while she glided back and forth above Abalon’s patchwork of fields and gardens. Most of the caldera had held lush forests when the Sokai first arrived. In the last thousand years, out of necessity, the Sokai converted the forest into farmland and orchards. The only remaining native trees existed on the island in the center of Lake Selatan. Nowadays, wooden objects were rare treasures among the Sokai. The Sokai had selected the island as a park and preserved the original vegetation there.

  Since the Sokai needed agricultural land to support the valley’s population, they had replaced the trees with farmland and roadways. Several decades ago, their engineers replaced their original roads with trams. The wind-powered trams carried agricultural produce, work crews, and passengers. Leoned, Kyonna’s stepfather, and his team of engineers built and maintained the thick cables anchored to the crater’s rim. It took a full day to cross the caldera in the tram’s light baskets, but it was faster and easier than walking.

  Wind turbines powered the irrigation pumps, elevators, and all the other technology except for the systems that required thermal energy. Pipes and ducts collected heat from the pool of lava that still boiled below the surface of the caldera. Kyonna knew little about the systems that provided the Sokai with levels of comfort unavailable to their refugee ancestors. She didn’t bother herself with such things. She soared above all that, and it was enough for her…almost.

  It took over three days to cross the crater on foot. Thermals around the crater’s edges lifted the gliders skyward. It was dangerous work dodging the tram cables, but gliders crossed the valley with speed impossible on foot or by tram. Fame and freedom appealed to Kyonna. Sudden gusts of wind sometimes blew the gliders into the wires and sent glider pilots plummeting to their deaths. Windrider lives were often short, which made anniversaries important celebrations.

  Sunlight sparkled like polished jewels off the surface of Lake Seletan, the caldera’s central lake. The sun glittered on the black basalt columns and warmed the moisture-laden air, which gave her more lift than usual. By dusk, she had crossed and re-crossed the caldera three times. Exhausted, she parked her glider and folded the frame and wing membranes. Once she had safely stowed it in its niche carved into the crater wall, she picked up her pack and marched to the dispatcher’s booth. “I’m off,” she said as she breezed past his workplace on the way to the lift, which would carry her to the crater’s floor.

  Windriders had little use for the class divisions common among the Sokai. They soared the thermals far above the currents and eddies of intrigue that blew the rest of their people back and forth. Family origin did not matter, and wealth was irrelevant. Skill alone determined status among the Windriders, and through her talent as a pilot, Kyonna had gained prominence among them.

  Tonight promised to be exceptional. Kyonna’s fellow Windriders were gathering at The Greenhouse to celebrate her second anniversary and her promotion to elite pilot status. She was the youngest ever to achieve such recognition. There would be drinking and dancing until the early morning. After a long day, I deserve some me time. I’ve let Ma and Aibhera know I won’t be home until late, so it’s all good.

  Since she was the last to leave the landing pad, she had the elevator to herself. Once inside the wire cage, she engaged the lift mechanism. It creaked and groaned its way down to the caldera floor. It’s celebration time, and I’ve earned my party, so nothing is going to stop me from enjoying myself to the max.

  Alone in the wire cage, Kyonna took the opportunity to change from her flight gear into her party clothes. She stripped off her flight suit and stowed it in her pack, slid the dress over her head, smoothed the fabric down her body and thighs. Kyonna’s scarlet party dress ended mid-thigh and hugged her curves as snugly as her flight suit. Aibhera would never expose this much leg or wear clothing this tight. My sister always wears those baggy formless gray things she calls dresses. My friend Aiyo could turn flour sacks into high fashion, so I’m glad I convinced her to whip up this little number for the party tonight. It cost me a week’s worth of extra flights, but the cotton feels like silk against my skin, and it hugs every curve.

  The lift ground to a halt on the caldera floor. Kyonna stepped off and strolled along the familiar streets that bordered the planted fields. She knew every pebble, dust mote, and doorway of these streets since her family home lay among the squalor of the field hands’ lodgings. Several people greeted her when she passed by their doors. The older women shook their heads and commented about Ky’s scandalous garment choice. Old Lady Boon, the spinster who lived a few blocks from Kyonna, yelled, “Go home and put some clothes on, young lady, before trouble catches up to you.”

  Young men gawked at her, and older men did too—until their wives noticed.

  Kyonna swayed her hips as she flounced past the married men and muttered, “And that’s how the fight started.” She grinned and tossed her ringlets provocatively at old man Conger, who smiled and waved, appreciating the display she put on. He’s such a brazen old fart. She blew a kiss in his direction and waved back at him. It’s a good thing his wife is inside preparing supper, or she’d box his ears and he’d be sleeping on the floor for weeks.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Revelation

  Eideron tilted his head forward and pressed his lips together, hiding his smile, lest it ruin the austere image he projected. So, a girl has Simea tied in knots. His hormones have finally made an appearance. Memories of his feelings during the courtship of his wife, Fierra, flooded his mind, but the boy interrupted Eideron’s reverie.

  Simea wrung his hands and stammered, “No, sir… It’s…it’s not what you think.” Simea’s speech picked up speed. The words gushed out of him. “It’s my friend Aibhera, who lives below us on our street. Aibhera and I have been playmates since birth, and we talk a great deal about things like your work in the Holy Order and the future of our people. Our nightmares trouble us.” He paused and waited for encouragement from the older man. When Eideron remained silent, Simea took a deep breath and continued, “In recent nights Aibhera and I have dreamed identical dreams each night for the last several tendays.”

  Having been troubled by his own dreams of late, the word dreams caught Eideron’s ear. He listened, suddenly attentive. “Continue.” It came out as a command, although Eideron no longer intended to appear harsh.

  Simea took a deep breath and began, “At first, we dreamed of an ominous cloud of death and disaster obscuring the sun. The cloud darkened the western sky, but now the cloud moves toward our valley. Its expansion threatens Abalon like a tsunami of darkness headed in our direction.” Simea paused.

  “Nightmares are common, but I’ve never heard of people experiencing them in tandem. Do your dreams happen on the same night?”

  “I understand that sir, and yes, we dream them on the same night. Last night, for the first time, we dreamed of three strangers amid the darkness. These people are a mystery to us since they stan
d directly in the path of destruction and yet remain whole and alive. One is young like me but tall as a tree and fair as ripened grain, disconnected from his heritage, and driven from his home.

  “The second man is older than the first, with olive-green skin and ebony hair. He is shorter and weaker, but he is mighty in lore and knowledge. Filled with doubt, he dithers and blunders along, skirting destruction with every careless choice he makes. He seeks something lost long ago, hoping it will answer all his questions and put an end to doubt.

  “The last, a woman, seems older, jade-skinned, and black-haired like the second man. She has seen much and endured much but has forgotten the hard lessons her past has taught.

  Because the Nethera want to work in secret, they have tried to silence them without success, but these people are about to expose the Nethera’s actions and schemes. When they bring the Dark Ones’ plans into the light, they will move openly, and we will be unable to withstand them. These three beings are a beacon of truth, but without aid, the Nethera will snuff out their lives.

  Simea paused, emboldened by Eideron’s silence. “Are these things symbolic, or do we dream of actual events?” He waited for a response from his mentor.

  Eideron pondered the information. The nervous boy stood by, shifting from foot to foot until the older man spoke.

  “How long have you had these dreams?”

  “We dreamed of the darkness for several months but didn’t realize the nightmares were significant. When we dreamed of the three who stand against the Nethera last night, Aibhera and I panicked and thought it best to tell you immediately.”

  “I must meet your friend…Aibhera, was it?”

  “Yes, Master, I will fetch her straightaway.” He dashed toward the door.