The Rifts of Psyche by Kyle West (i love reading .txt) 📕

Lucian didn’t have the heart to mention that. “There’s still the question of what we do about Serah.”

“I say we move on,” Cleon said. “Even if she’s alive, it’s like trying to find a jewel bug in the Darkrift. We’re likely to kill ourselves in the Upper Reaches. No food, little water, and the wyverns can catch us in the evenings.”

“I’m inclined to agree,” Fergus said.

The very idea of leaving Serah revolted him. “Seriously? She’s in trouble, and you would just leave her behind without even trying to find her? What would Elder Ytrib say?”

At least Fergus had the grace to look ashamed. Cleon, on the other hand, seemed ambivalent.

“She saved my life,” Lucian said. “Without her, I would have never found Kiro. We’re going after her.”

“What, is she your girlfriend or something? Might not want to tell Morgana.”

“Be serious,” Lucian said. “We need her pathfinding skills. And she’s a good Gravitist. You have to admit that’s damn useful.”

Cleon gave a noncommittal shrug.

“Enough,” Fergus said. “Lucian’s entanglements are none of our concern. I have a choice to make. Whatever is more likely to get us to Dara and beyond is what I will decide.”

“That’s easy then, Captain,” Cleon said. “Huff it through the pass and into Snake Rift. After that, there’s the Blue Rift.”

“As I said, the choice is mine.”

“Maybe we should camp here for the night,” Cleon said. “After we give that one a proper burial.”

“What if those men are coming back, though?” Lucian asked.

“I’ll sense them long before they’re here,” Fergus said. “They can’t hide that many mages from me.”

They buried Ramore, the work going fast with Binding Magic and a heavy stone to dig with. It was hard to feel anything for a man who would have killed him. But Ramore had once been sane, and not all that long ago. It made Lucian feel hollow, but he hardened himself to it. It was Serah’s grief, not his. Assuming she was still alive.

Once Ramore was underground, Cleon started a fire with a Thermal stream, using firewood Serah had left behind. It seemed strange to eat dinner after such grisly work. Lucian tried to ignore the sickly-sweet smell of rot lingering in the air.

They ate quickly, keeping the fire roaring near the mouth of the cave. That light would make them visible to hostile humans, but it was necessary to keep away the wyverns. As the fire burned bright and hot, the three watched outside the cave uneasily.

“Well, who has first watch?” Cleon asked.

“I’ll take watch,” Fergus said. “And you, Cleon, have second watch. Lucian needs rest the most.”

Cleon mumbled something under his breath that sounded like rotting hell and some other expletive. “Fine. As if my girl didn’t keep me up all night.”

“Sleep with your spear in hand, Lucian,” Fergus said. “You may need it before too long.”

Lucian lay with his back to the fire and closed his eyes, the exhaustion of the day hitting him in full. But he wasn’t quite done yet. He reached for his Focus and refreshed his Psionic ward, making its range large enough to cover all of them. Once that was done, he was out like a light.

21

Lucian was the first to wake. Across the fire, Fergus snored loudly, while Cleon was nodding off on his perch next to the cave mouth. So much for keeping watch.

Lucian walked over to him. “You alive?”

He jerked awake. “Still breathing.” He looked at Lucian appraisingly. “Well, you want me to cook you breakfast, or what?”

Lucian got his meaning. He dug into his pack until he found some food, not recognizing half of the ingredients. Well, Cleon wanted him to cook breakfast, so that was what he would do. He filled the cookpot with some water and enough vegetables and meat for three people and set it over the fire. Half an hour later, it smelled all right enough.

Fergus stirred, and woke, sleepy-eyed. The three gathered around the fire to eat, which had burned to embers by now.

“You let the fire get too low, Cleon,” Fergus said, taking a bite of the soup. His eyes widened as he sputtered. “Dear God. How much caro pepper did you put in that?”

“Enough to give you a fire,” Cleon said. “Lucian, how’d you know I liked my food spicy?”

Lucian shrugged. “Just a hunch.”

When Lucian took his first bite it felt as if he’d been kicked in the mouth. Cleon laughed uproariously.

“All right,” Fergus said, mouth hanging open. “I’m responsible for the cooking from now on.”

Lucian still felt the heat an hour later, when they were following the trail to the Upper Reaches. The tracks were so evident that even Lucian could have followed them. It seemed the Sorceress-Queen’s war party wasn’t concerned about being followed. That made Lucian uneasy. It reminded him of what Kieron had said about the wyverns, that they didn’t look up because they had no fear of being hunted.

When they crested a final rise, the land flattened considerably, though it still sloped upward. There was no life up here, and the surface was bare and gray, with the distant slopes lost to violet mist. The air blew cold, making Lucian shiver. Compared to the bottom of the Deeprift, this was a different world entirely.

“The Upper Reaches,” Fergus said, throwing a fur mantle over his armor. “Things are about to get more dangerous.”

“The tracks go this way,” Cleon said. “Straight into the fog.”

“Quiet,” Fergus said. “We might be getting close.”

Cleon blew a raspberry, but didn’t offer a rebuttal.

For the first time since arriving on Psyche, Lucian was out of the Deeprift. Even though he was breathing heavily, he just couldn’t get enough air.

“Can we stop for a second? I’m getting lightheaded.”

To his surprise, they slowed down. He breathed deeply.

“Stay hydrated,” Fergus said.

Lucian drank from his canteen, though it didn’t do much for his altitude sickness. And it would only get worse as they climbed higher.

“Your friend has a good set of lungs on her,” Cleon said. “I feel a bit winded myself.”

“Can you