Eye of the Ocean Book 3 Ji'jin Station

Eye of the Ocean – Book 3: Ji’Jin Station
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“No!” Ulanda screamed, already running. Just two lovers kissing, her mind
gibbered, trying to rationalize what she was seeing. She was the first there, and
threw herself full weight against the Zimmer-priest. He didn't resist, but toppled
like a statue. Under her hands as she pushed herself up, his flesh hardened,
cracks growing as she watched. Brittle stone, gray stained with blood. I did that,
she thought. How... can I put him back together? She found herself scooping up
fragments that had broken off and mixed with the sand, trying to press them
back in place. Vaguely she knew Rit was beside her, doing something to the other
Zimmer. Sounds roared, waves of shock in her mind, becoming words that slowly
sorted themselves out into Zimmer-common.
“Mirwin, get her away from him,” Bolda shouted but didn't wait. He threw her
into Mirwin's arms. They both fell, but he landed with his arms tightly around her.
“Let go of me,” she spat and he did, but helped her up, the other hand already
starting to brush her off. His fingers reached for her wrists, then stopped as
though he had just realized there weren't any braid ends to smooth. Rit was still
with the Zimmer woman, others crowding where she had been seconds before.
Silassic, the Zimmer medic was there, Kori forcing others clear, a white knife in
her hand.
Mirwin was still herding her back, never quite touching anything but cloth. The
other people might not have existed. Ulanda squeezed her eyes shut a moment.
“I'm sorry,” she said softly and let him touch more than cloth. His comfort, she
only had to be a woman to see his need, not a Priest.
His hands still searched for braid ends. “What?” he asked in a whisper.
About her apology or what had happened? Despair tore at his voice, edging it
closer to the hopelessness she had heard at the fire when he had asked the same
question. “I don't know,” she said.
He looked up first, and one hand reached for his knife instead of her. His eyes
were on Rit, no, on the loom-master about twenty feet away, standing by the
moon gate, working something between his fingers.
The small man's eyes turned to meet hers. “Stone?” she repeated, feeling the
porcelain cracks snaking out against the skin of her palms. “How can a net be
...?” she began, then felt a twist, almost painful. Anga smiled and made a single
step towards her, she didn't doubt his approach. Then he stopped, the strange
look of pleasure on his face growing into puzzlement around the knife in one eye.
Alicia's knife, Mirwin's was still in his hand.
There was a sound like thunder, then hail. Something fell around them, as
quickly and cleanly as ice, and then the air was clear.
Laurel Hickey www.2morrow.bc.ca