Hidden in Sight Read Online Free PDF Page B

our sorrow, Ershia’s Guest,” this from another Tumbler, who graciously interpreted my yip of pain as sympathy.
    I stammered something, hopefully polite, and hurried away. The hardest thing was to resist the urge to fill my bag and arms with all the crystals I could carry, to save them from this deadly sorting by light. No wonder Ersh had tried to keep me away from Eclipse. I struggled with the urge to cycle, focusing on that danger to block the sounds of more shattering from behind. What if the Web had so judged me? What if I’d failed that day Ersh tossed me from her mountain?
    Different biologies. Different imperatives. Different truths. Different biologies —I ran the liturgy through my mind over and over as I fled home.
    â€œJust a few more minutes, S’kal-ru! I see another one!”
    The triumphant announcement brought me skidding to a halt and diving for cover again. Uriel! He was running down the path in my direction, pockets bulging, his face flushed with excitement.
    I hated it when a plan worked too well.
    I was out of options. The thought of going back to join the Tumblers horrified me, however natural their behavior. Cycling into that form was impossible—I needed mass, almost twice what I had, let alone what might happen if sunlight didn’t travel through my crystal self in a way that enraptured the adults. I fought to stay calm, to think. Ersh had warned me a truly desperate web-being could instinctively cycle to match her surroundings—the oldest instinct. It would be the death of Esen-alit-Quar. Rock couldn’t sustain thought.
    â€œThere’s no time for this!” Skalet’s voice in this form might be mellifluous, but it had no difficulty expressing fury. I could smell her approaching, but didn’t dare look.
    â€œIt’s the best so far,” I heard her companion protest. “C’mon, S’kal-ru. What’s a minute or two more? We’ll be rich!”
    â€œOnly a minute?” my web-kin repeated, her voice calming deceptively even as it came closer. I shivered, knowing that tone. “Do you know how many moves can be made in a game of chess, in one minute?”
    The sun was setting, sending a final wash of clean, white light over the mountainside, signaling the end of Eclipse. And more. There was a strangled sound, followed by a sequence of gradually quieter thuds, soft, as though the source moved away.
    Or fell.
    Â 
    The seedling’s tender white roots had been exposed. I took a handful of moist earth and sprinkled tiny flakes of it into the pot until satisfied. Most of the plants were unharmed. All were back where they belonged. It hadn’t been me. I’d stayed hidden, afraid of the Tumblers, afraid of the darkness, afraid of letting Skalet know I’d been there.
    I hadn’t made it back to the shuttle before Skalet, but Ersh had. Apparently, she hadn’t left—sending away Skalet’s shuttle in some game of her own. Had Ersh set a trap? It paid to remember who had taught Skalet tactics and treachery.
    What went on between the two of them, I didn’t know or want to know. It was enough that there were lights in the windows and an open door when I’d finally dared return. The Kraal shuttle and Skalet were gone.
    The plants, needing my care, were not.
    Ersh, as usual, was in Tumbler form, magnificent and terrifying. I shivered when she rolled herself into the greenhouse. It was probably shock. I hadn’t cleaned my cuts or fed. Those things didn’t seem important.
    Secrets. They were important.
    â€œYou went out in the Eclipse.”
    A transgression so mild-seeming now, I nodded and kept working.
    â€œAnd learned what it means to the Tumblers.”
    I hadn’t thought. To her Tumbler perceptions, I was covered in the glittering remains of children. My paws began to shake.
    â€œLook up, Esen-alit-Quar, and learn what it means to be Web.”
    I didn’t understand, but obeyed.