Evershore(Skyward #3.1)(31)
Scud, my mind did slip into the nowhere as easily as he said. In and out, like the tide. The longer I pictured it, the easier it was to do.
I didn’t want to be in the nowhere. That was where the voices came from, and that strange texture, the presence that felt like so many beings all crowding in on me. Either or both could be the eyes, but they felt different. Not as menacing. Friendly even—
“As the wave of your mind washes into this dimension, it carries with it a bit of the nowhere. Shards of nothing ride atop the wave, washing into the somewhere, each of them becoming only for a moment, then fading away.”
I could feel them. The fragments of nowhere, the little bits of nothing following my mind into the somewhere. They had to take form—everything in this world had form, while that world was the absence of it.
A presence pressed in on my mind—Alanik working with the medtechs to transport Cobb and Gran-Gran. She might return with orders from Stoff calling us back to Detritus, so I needed to concentrate and learn while I still could.
“Observe the fragments as they emerge. Notice their shape and their texture. Draw them forth from your memory.”
The fragments did have a shape. My mind skipped over the nowhere like a stone on a pond, and each time it made contact the fragments of nothing broke off. They were shaped like crystals, oblong with crisp, faceted sides. I couldn’t hold them so much as glimpse them.
“Picture their shapes in your mind, and begin to mold them. Will them to alter their form little by little, growing sharper, larger, stronger. The fragments are you, and you are the fragments. They bend to your will, as you bend your will to the vibrations of the universe.”
I didn’t what it meant that I was the fragments, but I focused on them, trying to change their shape. And they did change, as if they weren’t bits of nothing at all, but pieces of my mind—energy that was scattering and dissipating while I made contact with the nowhere. My whole body tensed as the fragments got sharper.
“When you are ready, bring your mind into alignment with them. Feel their rhythm; align your vibration to theirs. You are them, and they are you. You are as one—neither exerting control over the other—of one mind, one will, and one spirit.”
“What am I supposed to do?” I said.
Juno cleared his throat. “Do you want me to read it again?”
“Okay.” Though I wasn’t sure I was going to understand it any better the second time.
“I will admit, when I imagined having the opportunity to guide the meditations of a shadow-walker, I had not envisioned quite so many interruptions.”
“Sorry,” I said.
As Juno read, I tried to focus on the vibration of the fragments—were they really my own mind?—flying out of the nowhere. I worried about what they might do if I tried to move them, especially since I didn’t have any idea how to align my will with them.
But I needed to try. I touched the fragments lightly, and—Oh. I opened my eyes, sensing a fragment flying off over the cliff, cutting through the breeze before it dissipated. “I think I did it,” I said.
The sky above us was turning a deep shade of indigo, but over the water it was a bright yellow, which faded into orange and then pink. A sunset. I’d seen paintings of those, but they’d failed to capture the beauty. And here I had been keeping my eyes closed.
I hoped the rest of my flight was watching it at least.
“We came up here because you would not harm anything if you succeeded in manifesting the blades,” Juno said. “Now I see the folly in it. We cannot tell if you’ve manifested them, because there is nothing for you to manipulate but me.”
That wasn’t entirely true.
“Hang on,” I said, and I turned around—scud, now I was facing away from the sunset. But if this worked, it would be worth it.
“Read to me again,” I said. “The part about the continuous breathing.”
Juno started the meditation over, and I closed my eyes and tried to focus on my surroundings, to skim the surface of the nowhere with my mind, until I could feel the fragments appearing and scattering. I focused on them, molding them into tiny points, like blades of grass I’d seen in paintings of Old Earth. I reached out, touching the fragments lightly with my mind.
And then I pushed them down, shoving them out away from my feet.
A sound, like marbles hitting sandstone.
I opened my eyes.
Scud, I’d scratched the stone in front of me, leaving gouges in it.
“Shadow-walker,” Juno said. “It seems the meditation has worked.”
It seemed it had. “Let me try that again,” I said.
Juno read to me from his meditations, and each time I aimed with the strange shards of nowhere the grooves in the sandstone grew deeper, until I was cutting deep gashes no wider than my index finger.
“Do you have more of those meditations in your books?” I asked.
“Many more,” Juno said. “Entire volumes, in fact.”
If Stoff decided to pull us home, maybe I could use that knowledge as an excuse to stay, at least until Alanik and I could learn more about how to use our powers. We were the best weapons the DDF had right now, but we needed more training. A lot more.
“Thank you, Juno,” I said.
“It has been my pleasure, shadow-walker.”
It was strange for him to call me that, since I didn’t walk anywhere. I wondered if he had a meditation in his book that could teach me to hyperjump.