Eye of the Ocean Book 3 Ji'jin Station

Eye of the Ocean – Book 3: Ji’Jin Station
Torchlight was still in his eyes, but it didn’t flicker on the stone and the air was
dead with a flat taste to it. He thought the drum had paused and the dancers only
waiting for the next step, but they weren't just stopped but suspended.
Everything was still. Only his mind required the time to see the change, Rit
thought. He was like the air again, everywhere.
He took a breath and felt time start with a cruel snap, the air still being drawn
in, it wouldn't stop, he was caught in a hurricane vortex.
A single sensation and he pushed his mind towards that. Moisture running in
the hollows of the feathers, a feeling like standing face up to the rain, he shed
rain with each stroke of his wings. The bird shook as though to dislodge his mind.
“Rit?” Alicia's voice, her hand again, she sounded worried.
He felt distant, or the conference room was. Did Rilla see it like that, he
wondered, with her eye scales extended? “High Commander,” he said, pushing
the translation into native E'kalt, hearing his words go past his ability to hear.
Another strange focus. “You might ask Oimit to take you hunting. For luck, I
think.”
Oimit? He hadn’t been given the names of the two Zimmer. Dizzy, he closed
his eyes. The mirsasitin screamed. “My apologies,” he said, his voice shaking.
Bleeding into their active Net again. Could he blame this on Ulanda? Would the
ti'Linn Priest accept the explanation? The Ekalt Salin?
Alicia's grip on him had tightened, but her mind was in the Net link's security
levels, Kori with her. Kori stayed in, a refuge, he thought, but Alicia came out
with a wince and an embarrassed smile that promised he wouldn't be allowed to
forget this easily. Ulanda appeared unaffected, looking at him calmly down her
thin nose, her eyes like stones. Niv stood in back of her, his teeth bared.
“A novel addition to the Change phoenix myth.” The words were spoken in
plain tongue. The freeborn Zimmer next to Rilla. Thin white fingers were picking
the rings off the table one at a time. The silk bag was open in his lap.
Narrow gray-blue eyes looked up from the task, looking to Cion first and Rit
followed. Four House marks had been drawn along the left side of the paper in
various colored inks, and in the center but in black, another drawing to form a
curving line. The Scribe First regarded it calmly, his brush poised over where the
tip had lifted to create the last of the spread fingers of the wing. Then he passed
the used brush to Cici, accepting a clean one in return and assumed a waiting
position with his hands.
The Zimmer's nostrils flared then pressed shut as though to a bad smell. “The
High Commander limited my role here to that of an observer, although I'm hardly
a disinterested spectator of these proceedings. I only speak now because I have
some experience with Strom abilities and the creative manner in which they can
be put to use. The Commander likely has none. A Priest of Bluestone Clan blood,
Laurel Hickey www.2morrow.bc.ca