Ventus by Karl Schroeder

Karl Schroeder / Ventus / Page 348
on the fact that when one desal acts, all others within a hundred
kilometers react.
We did not have to wait long. First there was a faint
thumping below our feet. The girl cried out and backed away
from the open dais. Although I had been expecting something,
I was now very afraid. There is no knowing what a Wind may
do.
Suddenly there was a violent shudder through the
bedrock-solid desal. Outside a gale blew up from nowhere,
and we heard trees cracking and leaves roaring. A faint white
glow ensconced the top of a sentinel spire visible through the
doorway.
She screamed. "Stop it, please! I believe!"
"All right," I said although in truth I had no idea how or
if this manifestation would cease.
Then the door closed.
She and I bolted for it in one motion, I waving the torch
as though it were a talisman to open it again. There was no
sign that there had ever been a door there, save for half a
windblown stick that had been caught as it closed, and snipped
through. We looked at one another, she realizing at last that I
had no more control over the desal than she did.
The dais in the center of the floor suddenly dropped out
of sight, leaving a black hole. The floor of the desal distorted,
lowered to form a funnel. There was nothing to hang onto.
First she with a despairing cry, then I slid down and into that
dark opening.
I opened my eyes on a strange vision. I was at the
bottom of a well that was three meters across, its top invisible
in darkness. The bottom was curved, of the same slick white
substance as above, but soft. Around me on the walls of the