Archon

Archon by Lana Krumwiede Page B

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Authors: Lana Krumwiede
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power of his own hands. Let this begin the Great Cycle.
    Great Earth and Skies! He had taken away psi from his people, the men and women in Deliverance. He hadn’t taken it from the whole world. But then, he’d never imagined that psi existed anywhere else.
    When Taemon’s breath returned, it was shaky and shallow. The city of Deliverance was now the most vulnerable place on the planet.

The next morning, the call of nature woke Taemon. Amma was still asleep, and there was no sign of Gevri yet. Taemon wondered if the boy would run back to tattle to his father about the two strangers he’d just met from over the mountain. Skies, he hoped not.
    Taemon stretched and stood slowly, still sore from his run-in with the jaguar the night before. He shook his left arm, trying to get rid of the numbness, and took a few steps away from the campsite.
    A low, rumbling growl made him freeze in his tracks. He felt it more than he heard it.
    Taemon looked up to see Gevri’s jaguar on a rock just above him. Head low, shoulders high, ears pressed back, it stared at him.
    In the symbolism of day signs, the Jaguar stood for aggression or attack, and Taemon was feeling that keenly from the menacing cat. They locked eyes for a moment, then suddenly the jaguar was inside his head, invading his thoughts.
    Startled, Taemon took a step back. The animal was not sending coherent thoughts, as the Heart of the Earth did, but rather impressions. Strong impressions: a fierce sense of loyalty to Gevri, a sense that the jaguar would do anything to protect the boy. The cat seemed to be searching Taemon for signs of anything that threatened Gevri even in the slightest.
    Taemon’s first instinct was to turn and run, but he thought better of it. If the cat wanted assurance that Taemon was no threat, running away would send the wrong signal. He forced himself to hold his ground and calm his thoughts.
    Unsure if it would work, he reached out to the jaguar with his thoughts.
I wish no harm. No harm to Gevri. No harm to you. No harm.
    An impression of tenuous satisfaction flitted through Taemon’s head, then the cat withdrew. The beast rose to its full height, turned, and sauntered away.
    Taemon exhaled. Skies, that was the eeriest thing ever, having a cat connect with his mind like that. He missed the good old days when he had his brain to himself.
    When Taemon returned to the campsite, Amma was awake and Gevri was with her. Amma was pulling out some of the food they’d found in the tunnel.
    “I’m so glad to see you using your hands for things like this,” Gevri said. “I wondered if people in Nathan’s City used dominion for everyday stuff like eating, drinking, and brushing hair. That’s obviously not true.”
    Amma froze for a moment, her eyes locked with Taemon’s. Gevri thought she had psi. And why wouldn’t he? They hadn’t told him about the Fall, nor had they explained about the powerless colony. In all the excitement and confusion last night, they hadn’t even thought about Gevri expecting to see them using psi!
    “So, you don’t like using dominion to eat?” Amma said cautiously. Her movements were slow and self-conscious as she laid out the food.
    “It’s just so weird,” Gevri said.
    “What’s so weird about it?” Taemon asked, moving to help Amma with the food. Her shoulders relaxed a bit when he was beside her, which made him feel good.
    “We’re trained to use dominion for warfare, and nothing else,” Gevri explained. “It’s too sacred for mundane tasks. Using dominion for things like eating, drinking, or ordinary everyday lifting is considered profane.”
    “Wait,” Taemon said. “It’s not okay to use your sacred power to eat, but it’s okay to use it for war? How is hurting people sacred?”
    Gevri seemed taken aback. “In the Republik, there’s nothing more sacred than war. It’s defending your home, your family, your gods. Nothing is more sacred than that.”
    “That’s so . . . different,” Amma said

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