The Book of Athyra Read Free Page B

doubting it, and by the time he reached the twinkling light visible through the oiled window of home, he had convinced himself that the Easterner had been making it up.
    At dinner that night Savn was silent and distracted, although neither Paener nor Maener noticed, being too tired to make small talk. His sister kept up a stream of chatter, and if she was aware of Savn’s failure to contribute, she didn’t say anything about it. The only time he was spoken to, when Mae asked him what he had learned that day from Master Wag, he just shrugged and muttered that he had been setting bones, after which his sister went off on another commentary about how stupid all the girls she knew were, and how annoying it was that she had to associate with them.
    After dinner he helped with some of the work—the little that could be done by Paener’s feeble light-spell. There was wood to be broken up into kindling (Paener and Maener chopped the big stuff—they said Savn wasn’t old enough yet), there was clearing leftover feed from the kethna pens so scavengers wouldn’t be attracted, and there was cleaning the tools for the next day’s harvest.
    When he was finished, he went out behind the small barn, sat down on one of the cutting stumps, and listened to the copperdove sing her night song from somewhere behind him. The copperdove would be leaving soon, going south until spring, taking with her the sparrow and the white-back, the redbird and the daythief. But for the first time, Savn wondered where they went, and what it was like there. It must be too hot for them in the summer, or they’d remain there, but other than that, what was it like? Did any people live there? If so, what were
they
like? Was there a Savn who watched the birds and wondered what happened when they flew back north?
    He had a sudden image of another Savn, a Savn naked to the waist and damp with sweat, staring back.
    I could just go
, he thought.
Not go back inside, not stop to get anything, just walk away. Find out where the copperdove goes, and who lives there, and what they’re like. I could do it now.
But he knew he wouldn’t. He’d stay here, and—
    And what?
    He suddenly thought of the jhereg he’d seen on Tem’s roof. The flying reptiles were scavengers, just as, in another sense, were those of the House of the Jhereg. Savn had seen many of the animals, but none of the nobles of that House. What would it be like to encounter one?
    Why am I suddenly thinking about these things?
    And,
What is happening to me?
There was a sudden vertigo, so that he almost sat down, but he was afraid to move, for the instant was as wonderful as it was terrifying. He didn’t want to breathe, yet he was keenly aware of doing so, of the air moving in and out of his lungs, and even filling his whole body, which was impossible. And in front of him was a great road with brick walls and a sky that was horribly black. The road went on forever, and he knew that up ahead somewhere were branches that could lead anywhere. And looming over them was the face of the Easterner he had just met, and somehow the Easterner was opening up some paths and closing others. His heart was filled with the joy of loss and the pain of opportunity.
    With some part of his consciousness, he knew what was happening; some had called it Touching the Gods, and there were supposed to be Athyra mystics who spent their lives in this state. He had heard of such experiences from friends, but had never more than half-believed them. “It’s like you’re touching the whole world at once,” said Coral. “It’s like you can see all around yourself, and inside everything,” said someone he couldn’t remember. And it was all of these things, but that was only a small part of it.
    What did it mean? Would it leave him changed? In what way? Who would he be when it was over?
    And then it
was
over; gone as quickly as it had come. Around him the copperdove still sang, and the cricket harmonized. He took deep breaths and