Brian Rathbone - The Dawning of Power

"Cripes," Benjin said, "we're going to need to find a way around this. Stay alert." An enormous rock finger jutted into the air above the valley. Skirting the lake, they plodded through the mud, which threatened to remove their boots with every step. At times they walked through ankle-deep water. Around the rock finger, the soil border was less than a pace wide. The promontory was slender and appeared fragile, warped and twisted by eons of windborne sand.

"Stay back. I'm going out for a look," Benjin said.

"You aren't really thinking of walking out on that rock, are you?" Strom asked, incredulous. "That thing looks like it could fall at any moment, even without your weight on it."

"It's been here for thousands of years, and I'm betting it'll be here for thousands more; its frailty is only an illusion."

Benjin crept onto the rock; the winds whipped around him, and he was nearly blown off. He caught himself, but the movement sent rocks bouncing into the valley below.

"I think we've been spotted," he said. "There are soldiers below, and they are climbing toward us. We need to retreat as fast as we can; we must go back the way we came. I don't think we'll be able to get through the flooded valley without ruining our food supply or drowning."

Catrin sat to one side, absorbed in her thoughts, and with every moment her anger grew. The Zjhon threatened everything she held dear. Struggling to think of a way to stop the approaching army, or at least hamper its progress, she stewed, biting her lip. Benjin interrupted her thoughts.

"C'mon, li'l miss, we need to get out of here."

Catrin wondered if she was making a mistake; then she recalled the words Nat had written: "Embrace your role as the Herald. I implore you to use the divine gift you have been given." She considered those words, and they urged her to act.

"No," she said in a firm voice. "I will not run from this challenge, and I will no longer tolerate these invaders of my homeland."

"What would you have us do, Catrin? I am yours to command," Benjin said, shocking everyone. He knelt in the sodden soil and bowed to her. Chase, Strom, and Osbourne stood silently.

Catrin considered her next words carefully, not knowing what she was going to say or do. She looked around her, and the muddy water brought back a part of Nat's message, one line in particular, and she said, "The water shapes the land."

"I want you to dig. From here," she said, pointing to the soil around the base of the finger of rock, "to here. We need a trough from the dry to the wet, and it should be as deep as possible."

"What are you talking about, Cat? We don't have time for this; we need to get out of here," Chase said.

"We cannot run anymore, Chase; there is nowhere safe to hide. I choose to fight," she said, and she began to dig with her bare hands as Benjin loosened the soil with his sword. All but Chase began to dig, but he soon crouched down along with the rest. The trench grew quickly, the sodden soil making their work easier.

"Stay on the north side of the trench," Catrin warned.

"But we need to go south to escape," Chase argued, looking at a massive fist of rock that blocked their path and would not budge.

"Just dig around it," Catrin said, following Chase's gaze. "The trench need not be straight." As they dug their way closer to the water, the ditch began to flood, and they continued to dig from higher ground. As water began pouring over the cliff's edge, Catrin and Benjin looked over to see what was happening below.

A few soldiers watched from the valley floor, but most were scaling the cliff face in an effort to reach them. Catrin and the others watched the water move through the ditch, eroding the soil around it. Deeper and wider the trough grew, gradually sending larger amounts of water into the valley, but it was not enough; it was happening far too slowly to make any difference. It mocked their meager effort, and helplessness washed over Catrin.

She watched the flow intently, seeing tremendous potential energy latent in the calm water, and she knew there must be a way to unleash it. Without realizing it, she opened her mind to Istra's energy and attempted to ply it with her will. She started by trying to push the water over the edge, hoping to make it go faster, but the water repelled her.

Any force she exerted on the water became fragmented, scattered in a hundred directions, and her efforts had no visible effect. Her frustration flared into anger, and she turned to the rest of the group. "Go north. I'll catch up with you soon."

"But, Cat-" Chase began, but she cut him short.

"If you value your lives, go north. Now!" she said in a commanding voice, despite her fear. Her legs trembled; her face flushed and nostrils flared; her heart pounded in her ears. Chase and the others headed north, frequently looking over their shoulders. A strange feeling came over her as she watched Chase walk away. So many times she had followed him on his adventures, but now she knew she must stand alone. As she embraced the energy around her, she prayed she would not unwittingly create another disaster. The lives of her friends now rested in her hands, and she was determined to save them.

With confidence born of every lesson her father and Benjin and Chase had ever taught her, Catrin moved to the finger of rock. Its base had been exposed by the modest flow of water that rushed by, but she strode to the end of the finger, seemingly oblivious to the winds tearing at her. Doing her best to keep from trembling, she spoke in a voice that carried across the Pinook Valley.

"Armies of the Zjhon! You are not welcome here," she began. In the next moment, though, she panicked. No more words would come; her throat was closing. She was no hero; she felt like just a little girl. Old fears constricted her heart, and she nearly fled, but then, in her mind, she saw the faces of Benjin and Chase and her friends. With a fire burning in her belly, she renewed her commitment and tried to find words befitting a great hero. "I am the keeper of this land, and I forbid you passage. Retreat now, or feel the weight of my wrath!" she said, and her statement carried on the air to the soldiers below.

They laughed at such threats coming from a girl, and Catrin turned without another word. She strode back to the edge of the widening trough, gazing at it a moment more before moving north. Some fifty paces away, she stopped, hoping Chase wasn't right. Maybe she had lost her senses, but it was far too late to turn back. She would have to endure the consequences of her decisions and actions.

Facing the cliff, she felt the heat of her anger toward the invaders, and it purged her fears. Her body quivered with energy as she gathered it and pulled it to her, reveling in its glory. She could smell its fragrance and taste its sweetness, but a searing pain in her left thigh distracted her for a moment, feeling as if her limb were on fire. She ignored it and drew in a deep breath, letting the soldiers' laughter feed her rage.

"You bear witness to the Call of the Herald," she announced. "I have warned you, and you have mocked me, and you will suffer for that." She clasped her hands high above her head, energy swirling through her fingers and dancing over her palms. It pulsed around her. She brought her hands down in a powerful arc as she shouted, "You will not pass!"

When her fists struck the soil, a huge shockwave sent ripples of power through the plateau with a massive, echoing boom, and the land pulsed as if it were liquid. Waves of energy rolled away from her. The floodwaters transferred the energy as waves crashed against the irregularity of the far cliffs and returned to punish the saturated shoreline. Unable to withstand the power of the water, large sections of rock and soil were dislodged and pushed into the Pinook Valley.