Cytonic (Skyward #3)(25)

“It indeed sounds interesting, abomination,” Chet said. “Come, Miss Nightshade and companion. We should hurry—there is a point of interest on this fragment I would like to show you before we leave it, but we will need to rush. It wouldn’t do to miss the next fragment because we dallied!”

We continued on, Chet picking up our pace. A half hour later, we crested another dune and I got a better glimpse of our target fragment. It was covered with shimmering grass—it looked so soft, like the fur of a good blanket—and idyllic streams that dropped off the side, sparkling like drops of sunlight. It looked like paradise as described in the stories. Green, alive—there were even butterflies.

However, something felt odd to me. Chet had rushed us to get here in time, but that fragment appeared to be hours away. At the rim, Chet waved me along to the right. The dunes tapered off here, and in a few moments we found what he’d wanted to show me: a pit. The sand had blown away, exposing brown rock—and a vast chunk had been dug out of the fragment, going down at least thirty meters. The sides were tiered, like a reverse pyramid, paths running along them in a spiral.

“A quarry,” I said. “For acclivity stone?”

“Precisely,” Chet said. “This one is ancient, but I thought you might appreciate seeing an example of a quarry. The ones the Superiority runs farther inward at Surehold are much more massive affairs, but it’s the same general principle.”

“Too bad they didn’t leave any acclivity stone,” I said, searching the quarry. M-Bot zipped past me and went soaring down to look at the bottom. “Maybe we could have fashioned some kind of floating device for ourselves.”

Chet shook his head, smiling.

“What?” I said.



“They left plenty of acclivity stone, Miss Nightshade,” he said, gesturing. “What is it you think we’re standing upon?”

“Rock,” I said.

“Rock,” he said, “that floats through the sky? These fragments all have acclivity stone in them. Unfortunately, it takes refinement and energy to make it work on a scale that’s usable, so I doubt we’ll be able to make any kind of device. Still, it is all right here.”

I blushed at the realization. Of course the fragments floated on acclivity stone. It made perfect sense, now that I thought about it. I guess the blue coloring, like the light glowing underneath M-Bot’s wings, came from the refinement process.

“Now,” he said, “that other fragment.” He gazed across at it, then frowned. “It should be here any moment.”

“By my best guess,” M-Bot said, “judging by its slow movement, our fragments won’t touch for ten hours.”

“Ten hours? Chet, why did you hurry us?”

“I…” He scratched at his head. “Ten hours, you say?”

“Yes,” M-Bot said. “Though I have set my internal chronometer to the time used by Spensa’s people, which is patterned after one hour Earth time. The same as used by my old ship, and thus also—presumably—by you.”

Chet settled on a rock. “I apologize, Miss Nightshade. My sense of time is…not as reliable as it once was.”

I let the conversation die, but I was baffled. How could Chet have such a poor sense of time?

“Well,” Chet said. “Perhaps we should get some rest here, then attack the Path of Elders. Always best to hit a task fresh and awake! So that it can’t hit back, you see.”

I smiled. That reminded me of something Kimmalyn would say. But I agreed with getting some rest. It had been a wonderful day, though a long one.

As Chet took off his jacket to make a pillow, I checked on my reality icon, finding it had shed three motes of silvery dust today. I proffered one to him and watched carefully so I could study the hungry way he eyed my pouch. Everything about traveling with him had been a joy—everything except that look.



I tucked away the pouch quickly. Chet took a little longer to put away his ash—instead staring at it for a time, glowing and twinkling in his palm.

“So, the Path of Elders,” I said to break the odd mood. “Is there anything we need to do to prepare for it?”

“Not that I know of,” he said. “I visited this first stop one time, but decided not to go into the cavern. I feel embarrassed to admit that, after seeing your excitement.”

I stared out at the garden fragment. Yeah, it was moving more slowly than Nedd did at mess on an early morning shift. It would take a long time to get here. “It feels like the quests that happened in the old stories. That’s why I’m excited.”

“You put a lot of stock in those stories.”

“My grandmother told them to me when I was a child. They kind of just…stuck.”

“I find that admirable,” Chet said. “But I warn you not to raise your expectations too much. Life isn’t always like one of those stories.”

“I know,” I said, still staring over that beautiful field. “But…stories say something. About us, and about where we came from. They’re a reminder that we have a past, a history. And a future.”

When I was growing up, Gran-Gran’s stories had been my shield. Against the names I was called, against the things people said about my father. Against my own terror that all those things—particularly the ones about me—were true.