Marika.”
“I shall. I have goals I have not yet achieved.”
Kiljar’s ragged face tightened momentarily. She was not
pleased by the way Marika had fixed herself on stalking the Serke
and rogue brethren. “Be very careful, pup.”
“Pup, mistress?”
“Sometimes you are. Still. You came to your powers too
early.”
Grauel and Barlog looked grim as they took their places. They
controlled the appearance of fear, but they were afraid. Grauel had
been into the void only once, and that time she had not passed
beyond the orbit of Biter. Once returned to the surface, she had
stated a strong preference for remaining there the rest of her
life. Barlog never had been up.
Now Marika wanted to drag them with her to one of the fabled
starworlds. Worlds in which they still did not wholly believe.
“Relax,” Marika told them. “It will seem
strange, but it will be no more difficult or dangerous than a
surface flight from Ruhaack to Skiljansrode.”
“It isn’t the same,” Barlog insisted.
“Not the same at all. Inside.”
“We’re still Ponath huntresses, Marika,”
Grauel said. “Very old ones, too. Very near the end of our
value as huntresses. If we were in the Ponath still we would be on
the edge of becoming Wise. A year or two more at the most. And you
know the Wise. They are not inclined toward risk.”
“I’ll do my best to keep it from becoming too
harrowing. After all, the purpose is to instruct me, not to take
off on an adventure. That time lies a way down the river
yet.” She beckoned the senior bath, who brought a bowl of the
golden drink. “Each of you drink about a cup of this
elixir.”
The Mistress who was to share and chaperone the journey tossed
off a drink after Grauel and Barlog finished, then settled her tail
upon the axis platform. She had been to the starworlds countless
times. For her this journey would be routine.
The bath drank, then their senior brought the bowl to Marika.
She finished it, feeling the drug taking effect immediately.
“Have you finished your rites?”
The senior bath said she had.
“Good. Is everyone strapped?” She noted the tight
grips Grauel and Barlog had upon their weapons. This was one time
she had not needed to remind Barlog. The huntress had brought her
arms as talismans against the unknown.
Marika touched her own weapons. Rifle across her back. Revolver
inside the tattered otec coat that had been with her almost
forever. She carried a knife in her boot, another on her belt, and
a third concealed under her arm. She had ammunition enough for a
small battle and dried meat enough for a week.
She felt foolish when she gave it a thought. She, too, was
carrying amulets into the unknown.
“Take it up,” the practiced Mistress said.
“Time is wasting.”
Marika closed her eyes, gathered the strongest of
those-who-dwell, and began the long ascent into the void.
The dream of a lifetime was coming true. Her feet were upon the
path to the stars.
She was terrified.
Though during the long climb she attained velocities not to be
imagined onplanet, she became impatient. She wanted to get into it
in a hurry, get through it, get it over, get the fright thoroughly
tamed.
The void demanded new realms of thought of those who would
navigate it. Mental habits from the surface could not be
transferred. Often dared not be, lest they be fatal.
It was traditional not to enter the Up-and-Over before passing
the orbit of Biter, the outer of the major moons. Seldom were the
appropriate ghosts numerous enough closer to the planet. Impatient
as she was, Marika began seeking those-who-dwell long before the
proper time. Her guide refused to allow her to gather them. She
pushed the darkship hard till she reached a point where her tutor
found the ghost population acceptably dense.
Marika felt she could have called them to her much earlier, but
she did not argue. She had not come to argue. She had come to get a
final test over so she could walk the stars alone.
Sight on the
“I shall. I have goals I have not yet achieved.”
Kiljar’s ragged face tightened momentarily. She was not
pleased by the way Marika had fixed herself on stalking the Serke
and rogue brethren. “Be very careful, pup.”
“Pup, mistress?”
“Sometimes you are. Still. You came to your powers too
early.”
Grauel and Barlog looked grim as they took their places. They
controlled the appearance of fear, but they were afraid. Grauel had
been into the void only once, and that time she had not passed
beyond the orbit of Biter. Once returned to the surface, she had
stated a strong preference for remaining there the rest of her
life. Barlog never had been up.
Now Marika wanted to drag them with her to one of the fabled
starworlds. Worlds in which they still did not wholly believe.
“Relax,” Marika told them. “It will seem
strange, but it will be no more difficult or dangerous than a
surface flight from Ruhaack to Skiljansrode.”
“It isn’t the same,” Barlog insisted.
“Not the same at all. Inside.”
“We’re still Ponath huntresses, Marika,”
Grauel said. “Very old ones, too. Very near the end of our
value as huntresses. If we were in the Ponath still we would be on
the edge of becoming Wise. A year or two more at the most. And you
know the Wise. They are not inclined toward risk.”
“I’ll do my best to keep it from becoming too
harrowing. After all, the purpose is to instruct me, not to take
off on an adventure. That time lies a way down the river
yet.” She beckoned the senior bath, who brought a bowl of the
golden drink. “Each of you drink about a cup of this
elixir.”
The Mistress who was to share and chaperone the journey tossed
off a drink after Grauel and Barlog finished, then settled her tail
upon the axis platform. She had been to the starworlds countless
times. For her this journey would be routine.
The bath drank, then their senior brought the bowl to Marika.
She finished it, feeling the drug taking effect immediately.
“Have you finished your rites?”
The senior bath said she had.
“Good. Is everyone strapped?” She noted the tight
grips Grauel and Barlog had upon their weapons. This was one time
she had not needed to remind Barlog. The huntress had brought her
arms as talismans against the unknown.
Marika touched her own weapons. Rifle across her back. Revolver
inside the tattered otec coat that had been with her almost
forever. She carried a knife in her boot, another on her belt, and
a third concealed under her arm. She had ammunition enough for a
small battle and dried meat enough for a week.
She felt foolish when she gave it a thought. She, too, was
carrying amulets into the unknown.
“Take it up,” the practiced Mistress said.
“Time is wasting.”
Marika closed her eyes, gathered the strongest of
those-who-dwell, and began the long ascent into the void.
The dream of a lifetime was coming true. Her feet were upon the
path to the stars.
She was terrified.
Though during the long climb she attained velocities not to be
imagined onplanet, she became impatient. She wanted to get into it
in a hurry, get through it, get it over, get the fright thoroughly
tamed.
The void demanded new realms of thought of those who would
navigate it. Mental habits from the surface could not be
transferred. Often dared not be, lest they be fatal.
It was traditional not to enter the Up-and-Over before passing
the orbit of Biter, the outer of the major moons. Seldom were the
appropriate ghosts numerous enough closer to the planet. Impatient
as she was, Marika began seeking those-who-dwell long before the
proper time. Her guide refused to allow her to gather them. She
pushed the darkship hard till she reached a point where her tutor
found the ghost population acceptably dense.
Marika felt she could have called them to her much earlier, but
she did not argue. She had not come to argue. She had come to get a
final test over so she could walk the stars alone.
Sight on the
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