Friday, March 13, 2015

Thunderlord snippet - Making Contact

Please remember that this is a work in progress and drafts have a habit of changing drastically from inception to finished book.

From Thunderlord Chapter 8

Once more, Edric focused on his starstone. This time, instead of imagining the wide area of the valley and the trail rising beyond it, he shaped his mental probe like a spear aimed at the top of the promontory. For a long moment, he felt nothing. He might as well be trying to contact a star on the other side of the galaxy. Then he felt – heard – something, low and monotone, rough-textured but straight – stone! Shaped stones!

From time to time, Edric had taken his place in matrix circles tasked with mining metals and other minerals from deep within the earth. He knew how to penetrate layers of rock for what lay beneath, although he had always been part of a team, minds joined through the skill of their Keeper, bodies safeguarded by their monitor. Still, he remembered how it had felt in his mind to pass through rock as if it were water, moving between the tiny particles.

Gently, gently now, he cautioned himself. These walls were much thinner than the sheets of rock he had worked through in the Tower.

The next instant, he was through. Instead of the density and mineral taste of stone, he touched the diffuse lightness of air, punctuated by the tangled nets of brightness that marked living people. Were it not for the distance and his own imperfect skill, he might have been able to determine their numbers and locations within the fortress.

Elation blurred his senses for a moment before he wrestled his emotions back under control. Pride, stupid pride had all but destroyed not only his own Aldaran but Scathfell as well, only a generation ago. He must never forget that.

Once more calm, he shifted ever so slightly, shaping a mental call: Kyria!

At first, there was no answer, only the near-emptiness of air, the anonymous knots of brightness…and then he felt glimmer of something more, an imprint of her distinct personality, like a spill of candlelight in a moonless night. He’d sensed her laran before, uncertain and untrained. Now doubt evaporated as he let go the last of his barriers. In some ways, the contact resembled gazing into a distant, oblique mirror of his own mind, yet she was distinctly feminine…strong-willed and clinging to both strength and will to fend off the terror that coiled tighter and tighter around her…

I’m here! You’re not alone!

No comments:

Post a Comment