Diane Duane - The Book of Night with Moon

That swirling, shifting, faded. Saash stood there … but not in her old body, which seemed to have declined to continue any further. This new shape was one that no nonwizardly ehhif could have seen, and even an ehhif wizard might have had to work at it if the body’s owner didn’t wish to be seen. To Rhiow’s eyes, she was still looking at Saash .,. but something subtle had happened to her; her physicality seemed to have been refined away, leaving her standing in the familiar delicate form, but now filled with forces that made Rhiow blink to look at them steadily. They were the forces with which Saash had always worked so well… and it was now obvious why, for they filled her the way light fills a window.

Saash shook herself, looked down at her flanks, and dulled down the glow by an effort of will. She turned then and smiled at Rhiow. Sorry, she said.

“For what?” Rhiow said softly.

Well… yeah. Oh, Rhi, there’s a lot to do, I have to get going!

“Go on, then. Go well, Tenth-lifer—and give the Powers our best when you see Them.”

Saash smiled, rubbed past Urruah, trailed her tail briefly over bis back, took a friendly swipe at Arhu with one shining paw as she passed; saluted T’hom and Har’lh with a flirt of her tail; and walked off down the platform, glowing more faintly as she passed on—a wizard still, but one now in possession of much enhanced equipment, now reassigned to some more central and senior catchment area. Only once she paused. Rhiow stared, wondering—

Saash sat down on the platform and had one last good scratch. Then she washed the scratched-up fur down again, flirted her tail one last time, walked off into the darkness, and was gone…

T’hom came over to them then and hunkered down to greet them: Har’lh was with him. As she trotted over to them, it occurred to Rhiow that there was something odd about the track area: it looked cleaner, brighter, than usual. However, for the moment she put that aside. “Har’lh!” she said, and rubbed against him: possibly unprofessional behavior toward one’s Advisory, but she was extremely glad to see him. “Where in Iau’s name have you been?”

“About half a million lightyears away,” Har’lh said with annoyance, “freezing my butt off on a planet covered a thousand miles deep with liquid methane. Somebody wanted me way out of the way while something happened here, that was plain. Met some nice people, though: they needed help with some local problems… I did a little troubleshooting. No point in wasting the trip.” He looked at them all. “Now what’s been going on here??”

“That’ll take some telling,” Rhiow said.

“Let’s walk, then,” T’hom said.

They headed out of the track areas, up into the main concourse. Arhu and Urruah looked up and around them as they went, and Urruah’s tail was lashing in surprise. The Terminal looked satisfyingly solid and hard-edged again, much improved over the last time they had seen it, with multiple time-patches threatening to slide off the fabric of reality like a wet Band-Aid. Ehhif were going about their business as usual.

“Have they cleaned this place again in the last day or so?” Urruah said. “It looks so… bright, it’s… no. It’s not just the sun. I know this place always looks good in the morning, with the sun coming in the windows like that, but…”

T’hom smiled a little as they walked up past the waiting room and toward the Forty-second Street doors. “It won’t often look this good, I think,” he said. “This is how we knew you’d succeeded, down there, in some big way. All the manuals went crazy for a while, and all they would say was reconfiguration, reconfiguration, all over them. But then everything steadied down, and all the time-patching we’d been holding in place by force just hauled off and took, hard. Something of a relief.”

They stepped out into the street, and Rhiow saw in more detail what T’hom meant, for the brilliance in the streets was more than sunlight. This was a city in unusual splendor: skyscrapers all around seemed consciously clothed in the fire of day, their glass molten or jeweled in the early sun; and down at the end of the block, the silver spear of the Chrysler Building upheld itself in the dawn like an emblem of victory, blinding. Everything hummed with the usual city sounds—traffic noise, oddly content with its lot for once, very little horn-honking going on. There was a peculiar sense of ehhif all about them being abruptly, and rather bemusedly, at peace with one another … for a little while. “The city’s risen,” Rhiow said, “as some of us rose. But it won’t last.”

“No. It’s understandable that you would get some resonances from more central realities,” Har’lh said, “some spillover… possibly even from Timeheart itself. You can’t do that big a reconfiguration without some reflection in neighboring worlds: any of them directly connected by the catenary structure, anyway.”

“It’ll fade back to normal after a while,” Arhu said. “It can’t stay like this for long: you can conquer entropy only temporarily, on a local scale, She says … It never lasts. But while it lasts, enjoy it.”

They walked down Forty-second Street, heading toward the river and the view of the Delacorte Fountain, a great silver plume of water rising up from the southernmost tip of Riker’s Island in the morning sun. Rhiow started her debrief, knowing it was going to take a good while and might as well start now when everything was fresh in her mind. The only thing she knew she would have trouble explaining was how it had felt to have the One inside you. That knowledge, that power, had started to fade almost as soon as the experience proper was over. Just as well, I suppose, she thought. You can’t pour the ocean into one water bowl…

The team and the two Advisories finally came up against the railing that looked down at FDR Drive and the East River. There the People sat down, and the Seniors leaned on the railing, and they went on talking for what Rhiow normally thought might have been hours: the sun didn’t seem to be moving at its usual rate today … morning just kept lasting, shining down on a river that, more than usually, ran with light. In the middle of a technical discussion about what Saash had done to the catenary, T’hom suddenly looked up and said, “Well, they couldn’t keep you down on the farm long, could they?”

“What is a ‘farm’?” Ith said innocently, and leaned on the railing beside them, folding his claws and staring out over the shining water.

“Ahem,” Rhiow said. “Har’lh, have you met our new wizard? Ith, this is Har’lh, he’s the other Advisory for this area.”

“I am on errantry, and I greet you,” Ith said courteously, and bowed, sweeping his tail. Arhu ducked to let it go over his head.

’This is an errand?” T’hom said, with humor. “This is a junket.”

“It is ‘Research,’ ” Ith said cheerfully, glancing at Arhu with the conspiratorial expression of a youngster who’s borrowed a friend’s excuse. Arhu rolled his eyes, working to look innocent.

Rhiow wanted to snicker. It was a delightful change in Ith from the morose and somber individual they had first met; she suspected Arhu had had a lot to do with it, and would have much more.

“At any rate,” Rhiow said to the two Advisories, “the worldgates are all fully functional again, and I don’t think we need to fear any further interference from the Lone Power in that department. The Tree and the gate-tree, the master catenary structures, now have guardians who will never let the Lone One near them again. Some of them may not yet be plain about what It had in mind for them, but Ith will soon set them straight.”