her transformation.
The centaur bucks are equally sanguine as they stand around the morning cook fire.
Zephele, returning from the river where she has washed her hair, claps a hand to her chest. “Remarkable! No one looking at you will ever be able to tell you’re human!” she says.
“Unless you give her away, dear sister,” Orion says.
Zephele covers her mouth with her hands. “Oh dear! This will require practice.”
“And subtlety,” Neal says. “A bold new concept.”
Zephele attempts a subtle nod.
They are soon under way and by midmorning are wading through drifts of fine white sand. The sun’s rays bounce off the dunes and nearly blind Malora and the centaurs. They allcovet the spectacles with tinted lenses Honus donned this morning.
As they crest a sandy rise, Malora blinks to bring the image before her into focus. Below lies the Caldera of Neelah, a vast deep tidal lake, Honus has explained to them, where the River Neelah pools just before the delta. Rising up from the middle of the lake are three small stone peaks. Malora sees the heads of bathers bobbing in the water. Other two-legged figures are diving off the peaks.
“What are they?” Malora asks.
“Ancient pyramidal structures that once contained tombs, now almost completely submerged by the tides,” Honus explains.
“No, I mean, what are those beings diving into the water? They look like People.” From this vantage point, they look like tall, slender, scantily clad men. Could it be that Honus is wrong? Could these be fellow humans?
“From a distance, perhaps they appear human,” Honus tells her. “But you won’t think that when you see them at close range. They are the Ka—the males of the hibe. The sheKa rarely venture out during daylight. The Ka are a semi-amphibious hibe that can remain underwater for long periods of time. They have a nictitating membrane that comes down over their eyes, enabling them to keep their eyes open underwater, a trait they share with the crocodile with which they coexist peacefully on the delta of the River Neelah.”
“Really?” says Malora. She is excited now. New hibes might not be as wonderful as other humans. But the prospect is fascinating.
The road leads them down a loose, sandy embankment. The sand is white and the sky is azure. Malora feels her pulse quickening as it once did as she approached Mount Kheiron for the first time. Here the air is filled with an indescribable smell. Malora looks around. Her companions are all inhaling deeply.
“What is in the air?” Malora asks. The only way she can describe it is that the air smells of clean horses sweating on a hot, dry day. It is one of her favorite aromas on earth.
“I think it must be the sea!” Zephele says, her little nose twitching.
“Right you are!” Honus says.
“Of course!” says Malora. “I smell it, but I don’t see it. Where is it? Race you to the sea!” Malora urges Lightning off the road and down the sandy slope with Zephele not far behind. They will follow their noses to the sea.
“Stay on the path!” Neal’s voice booms at their backs.
Malora stops and swivels in the saddle.
“Why?” she asks mutinously.
“Sinkholes,” Neal says in a voice of controlled calm. “The natives know where they are, but you don’t. Nor do I. You might step into one, and you—and your horse—would disappear in a matter of seconds and we would never see you again.”
Zephele turns pale.
Malora quickly guides Lightning back onto the path.
“Now that you have finished scaring our tails to stubs, can you kindly show us the safest route to the sea, Neal?” Zephele asks.
“All in good time,” Neal says. “First, we must stop andstable the horses. Then we must enter the city and claim our rooms at the inn.”
“You’ll see the sea soon enough,” Honus says. “More than enough of it, I daresay.”
Zephele catches Malora’s hand and squeezes. “Can you wait? I can’t wait! Oh, and after we have seen the sea,”
The centaur bucks are equally sanguine as they stand around the morning cook fire.
Zephele, returning from the river where she has washed her hair, claps a hand to her chest. “Remarkable! No one looking at you will ever be able to tell you’re human!” she says.
“Unless you give her away, dear sister,” Orion says.
Zephele covers her mouth with her hands. “Oh dear! This will require practice.”
“And subtlety,” Neal says. “A bold new concept.”
Zephele attempts a subtle nod.
They are soon under way and by midmorning are wading through drifts of fine white sand. The sun’s rays bounce off the dunes and nearly blind Malora and the centaurs. They allcovet the spectacles with tinted lenses Honus donned this morning.
As they crest a sandy rise, Malora blinks to bring the image before her into focus. Below lies the Caldera of Neelah, a vast deep tidal lake, Honus has explained to them, where the River Neelah pools just before the delta. Rising up from the middle of the lake are three small stone peaks. Malora sees the heads of bathers bobbing in the water. Other two-legged figures are diving off the peaks.
“What are they?” Malora asks.
“Ancient pyramidal structures that once contained tombs, now almost completely submerged by the tides,” Honus explains.
“No, I mean, what are those beings diving into the water? They look like People.” From this vantage point, they look like tall, slender, scantily clad men. Could it be that Honus is wrong? Could these be fellow humans?
“From a distance, perhaps they appear human,” Honus tells her. “But you won’t think that when you see them at close range. They are the Ka—the males of the hibe. The sheKa rarely venture out during daylight. The Ka are a semi-amphibious hibe that can remain underwater for long periods of time. They have a nictitating membrane that comes down over their eyes, enabling them to keep their eyes open underwater, a trait they share with the crocodile with which they coexist peacefully on the delta of the River Neelah.”
“Really?” says Malora. She is excited now. New hibes might not be as wonderful as other humans. But the prospect is fascinating.
The road leads them down a loose, sandy embankment. The sand is white and the sky is azure. Malora feels her pulse quickening as it once did as she approached Mount Kheiron for the first time. Here the air is filled with an indescribable smell. Malora looks around. Her companions are all inhaling deeply.
“What is in the air?” Malora asks. The only way she can describe it is that the air smells of clean horses sweating on a hot, dry day. It is one of her favorite aromas on earth.
“I think it must be the sea!” Zephele says, her little nose twitching.
“Right you are!” Honus says.
“Of course!” says Malora. “I smell it, but I don’t see it. Where is it? Race you to the sea!” Malora urges Lightning off the road and down the sandy slope with Zephele not far behind. They will follow their noses to the sea.
“Stay on the path!” Neal’s voice booms at their backs.
Malora stops and swivels in the saddle.
“Why?” she asks mutinously.
“Sinkholes,” Neal says in a voice of controlled calm. “The natives know where they are, but you don’t. Nor do I. You might step into one, and you—and your horse—would disappear in a matter of seconds and we would never see you again.”
Zephele turns pale.
Malora quickly guides Lightning back onto the path.
“Now that you have finished scaring our tails to stubs, can you kindly show us the safest route to the sea, Neal?” Zephele asks.
“All in good time,” Neal says. “First, we must stop andstable the horses. Then we must enter the city and claim our rooms at the inn.”
“You’ll see the sea soon enough,” Honus says. “More than enough of it, I daresay.”
Zephele catches Malora’s hand and squeezes. “Can you wait? I can’t wait! Oh, and after we have seen the sea,”
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