Read Online The Gate to Futures Past by Julie E. Czerneda - Free Book Online Page A

closed.
    Tempting, to
reach
toward him, and them, to see for myself what Morgan attempted. As that could be worse than distracting, I shifted my attention back to my cousin. “Morgan knows what he’s—”
    Disorientation . . .
    I lurched, grabbing Barac, feeling him steady me, his
alarm—
    Darkness!
    Wasn’t the M’hir, but suddenly, I couldn’t see. Wasn’t the ship, but I couldn’t breathe. I smothered, choked, couldn’t scream—
    NOT REAL!
Aryl’s mindvoice, like a blow.
Sira. This is theirmemory of Tuana and the Oud, not yours. What they felt.
Sensed
from others. You can breathe. You can see.
    I heaved for air, blinked for a stunned second at Barac, seeing my horror mirrored in his expression. Tearing free of his hold, I ran for Morgan, staggering as if the flat deck beneath me was loose soil and treacherous.
    Too late. The three on the bed had tumbled together into a still heap. My Chosen, trapped in memory, convulsed on the floor.
    Throwing myself atop him, I
plunged
along our link, seeking his consciousness. There. Faint, strained, but aware.
HERE! I AM REAL!
I sent with everything in me,
awareness
plus
strength,
knowing I’d one chance.
    He
reached
as someone drowning.
Sira . . .
    YES!
    I felt Morgan’s chest shudder, then expand and fall in great gasps. His eyes opened, their blue at first dazed, then grim. “The others—”
    Abandoning my Human, I went to the bed. The three unChosen had stretched out, Eloe sandwiched between the sibs, now sound asleep. Their faces were peaceful, arms overlapped. I let out a trace of Power, finding nothing unusual.
    Morgan leaned on my shoulder. “Good,” he whispered, gazing down. “It was just me.”
    And me.
    That being a point to make later, once certain he’d recovered—and after I’d listened to Barac’s “I warned you” and apologized—I eased my arm around my Chosen’s waist. “What say we get you dressed?”

    To my dismay, Morgan dressed in record time, determined to consult with his fellow Healer-of-minds while, as he put it, everything was fresh.
    Fresh was one way to put it. I still felt the urge to gasp, as if being smothered. “Are you sure about this?”
    â€œNo time like the present, Witchling,” he said. The tone might be cheerful, but I knew that look.
    He’d made a discovery while healing Eloe’s mind, something important—
    It was, I feared, nothing good.
    He won’t burden you until he’s sure,
Aryl sent, sounding more distant than usual.
My Enris was the same. We were Chosen, but our opinions and decisions were ever our own. I remember he once—
My awareness of her abruptly faded.
    I understood—how could I not? Aryl and her beloved Chosen Enris had done the unthinkable, severing their Joining so Aryl could leave herself, mind and Power, in that crystal.
    They’d done it because she’d feared what the M’hiray would become within the Trade Pact, and sought to save us from ourselves. They’d paid the ultimate price, she and her Chosen, without any surety of success.
    I couldn’t imagine such courage. If, every so often, Aryl needed to draw aside and renew it, or simply mourn, I thought fiercely, she’d more than earned the right. Without her, the M’hiray would have ended.
    Without her, the life growing inside me would be empty and its birth—was much too distant to worry about now, having sufficient on my plate at the moment.
    Morgan grabbed his pack with one hand, easing that concern; what he’d brought on board shouldn’t be left unguarded, although having that pack at all opened a host of new and uncomfortable possibilities.
    â€œYou’re not going to tell me, are you?” I asked my Chosen as we headed for the Rayna section of the Core.
    The corner of his mouth I could see went down and
tension
sang along our link.
    â€œOnly if