Lyn was sometimes envious of more aetherically sensitive Ber; this was not one of those times. The shudder that went down their spine told them in no uncertain terms that whatever Nat and Moira had tried, it had clearly gone wrong, if they'd felt it through the natural Silverpaw insulation.

  Tessan's treatment, however urgently needed, would have to wait. When the light did not return within a few seconds, Lyn set their hands aglow with a soft aetheric fire — it might be less natural to them than electrical currents, but as with many things, they'd trained long and hard to be capable. It was a point source, more closely resembling a torch or flashlight that cast deep shadows than Moira's illumination, which was akin to standing outdoors on a foggy day. But at least they wouldn't have to feel around in the dark.

  The feathers of the broodmother began to glow softly — which had the side effect of making her tremors — however slight — visible. Had she been, beforehand, or was that a consequence of whatever had happened? While individually not as bright as Lyn's hands, the greater surface area provided more light overall — which illuminated Nezzar, who either could not, or simply did not perform the same feat. Lyn would have to include that observation in their journal; Clackaw were one of the species covered extensively in their training — and Lyn had never seen theronic manipulation or infusion mentioned. Curious.

  But first, priorities. Dropping to their knees, Lyn took hold of the fabric skirt around the base of Tessan's seat, and peered beneath to see what the situation was with Nat. Worst case, he'd be seizing — in which case Lyn would have to shock him unconscious.

  The flickering radiance from Lyn's hands illuminated the cramped crawlspace — if it could be called that. Nat shielded his eyes from the unexpected light, then cautiously placed Siya to one side with a few reassuring strokes and slid out from underneath Tessan's roost.

  He stared for a moment, squinted his eyes, and then shook his head and began to sign. ‘Sorry, I forgot you can't hear me like Moira can.’

  Lyn considered possible questions, but felt anything specific might divert from what they really needed to know, ‘What happened?’

  ‘We tried to weave an antipattern for the dissonance into the braid. I think it hurt Moira — she's not answering.’

  Lyn resisted the urge to facepalm — it would be blinding at the moment. ‘You should have asked. I could have told you — aetheric patterns cannot be negated with an inverse like they're a sound wave or radio signal. It's possible she needs a reinvitation — did you try recreating the door? I do not wish to seem dismissive, but Tessan's need for treatment is urgent and pressing — don't let her stoic facade fool you, she's barely holding on to consciousness. If she sleeps as she is, she may not wake.’ Lyn pointed to Tessan for emphasis with the ending statement, and received the smallest of knocks in response.

  Nat's response was delayed and hesitant, ‘Not yet, no. Do you think it's safe?’ And with that he ducked back into the shadows.

  Lyn slowed down their next set of gestures, and kept to common vocabulary, ‘If I'm going too fast, say so, please. As for safety, I can't see why it wouldn't be. Just don't re-create the dissonant pattern, okay?’

  ‘Not even if you asked me to.’

  Lyn turned back to Tessan, but Nezzar had interposed herself between the two, without regard to the lack of space. Lyn's only acknowledgment of the act was to step to one side so that anything said would be visible to all, but made a point of angling their body to emphasize that this discussion was with the patient.

  ‘Issues with the aether aside — both your exposure and the complications it is causing — I wish to proceed with treatment immediately. I believe I understand the desires of all parties, and my focus is as follows. First — I believe that your potential for recovery has been compromised in the belief that your wounds are not survivable. You are malnourished — so much so that I believe your care has been criminally negligent. To compound the issue, you appear to have been improperly medicated to the point of being effectively poisoned, and honestly I believe that to reach this state you have been improperly advised. There are other considerations as well — for instance, why have you been placed in a poorly outfitted vacuum chamber?’

  Nezzar began signing frantically and Lyn believed that might soon break in frustration in order to force Lyn to pay attention to them. Tessan, however, reached calmly out and laid a wingtip on Nezzar's shoulder. They looked perhaps even more infuriated, but did cease attempting to dominate the conversation.

  Tessan's signing was even worse than it was even a few minutes before. Had the aetheric event affected them? ‘Lyn, I appreciate what you are trying to do here, but you must understand that these choices are the most practical. I am dying — and my ultimate concern is for my children. They must mature sufficiently to be able to carry on without me. Unfortunately, both Nezzar and Rezzan are too immature to take my place as they are. Their older sisters died in the attack — and the physical maturation requires resources I struggle to produce, as I am now.’

  Lyn moved to sign a response, but Tessan held up a wing to forestall their response.

  ‘Just listen. Please. The chamber is because of the nature of the aetheric broadcast. The pulse. It has… infected me. I must remain here, or else risk transferring it to my children. There is only time to feed them, and then they must leave. I will not reveal the secrets our race keeps — just as you do not reveal yours, wanderer from the poles.’

  You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.

  Lyn stiffened — this was not the time for this particular game.

  Tessan moved on, however, ‘As for the rest — I am eating as much as I am able. It is… hard. But everything I can produce must go to my children. None have denied me sustenance, and others have stood there, like you, insisting I eat. Which brings me to the next point.’

  She gathered herself before continuing. ‘I am absolutely drugged to the tip of my beak. You cannot understand the pain — no don't try to rebut until I explain. The aether signal is… wrong. It is the final moments of a thousand souls screaming in agony and confusion. And it will not stop. It will. Not. Stop. My wounds are, however grievous, secondary to that. I remain, only so that I may bring one of my beautiful daughters to maturity.’ At this, she rested her wingtip on Nezzar's shoulder and looked into her daughter's eyes for a long moment, before continuing.

  ‘The task they were set to, was to find healers capable of saving my — their — flight, by extending my time until one could take my place. I cannot — will not — last long enough to be able to raise both, no matter how much I wish it. I know of no way to heal this aetheric injury, and I will not divulge the secrets of my race merely to save my own life. You understand this more than so many others might, so I ask you to respect my decision.’ Tessan stopped signing, and awaited Lyn's response with an almost serene grace.

  Lyn pondered a response for one minute, and then another — then wished for a lungful of air for a put-upon sigh. They did their best without, ‘With all due respect, Mother — whoever advised you is wrong — incompetence or malice, I will not speculate which, but I can't help but wonder if someone might benefit from having a weakened flight with an inexperienced broodmother who felt deeply within their debt. I can list five courses of action off the top of my head that would have resulted in better outcomes given the time you've had. That said, I understand that we might seem disorganized, but I believe we can address every one of your issues, given a little time.’

  ‘My children will starve, or I will fail to raise a successor. I cannot produce enough for both, wounded as I am — the healing makes its own demands of me.’

  ‘This entire conversation fits in the barest fraction of a moment. Your children will not blink their eyes twice in entire time we remain here. You can eat at whatever pace you can sustain — and then either step without to nurse, or else bring them within.’

  ‘And what of the signal?’

  ‘Unless you tell me otherwise, it is unlikely they could be affected by it. Your communication is fast, but not even five minutes would pass outside with even a day inside this isolated reference frame. The key word is isolated. That only addresses the potential impacts upon them — I believe, though I cannot be sure, that we can also mitigate, though perhaps not wholly eliminate, the persistent signal that is plaguing you.’

  ‘I find that hard to believe — more so since your agent seems to have been disrupted by their attempts — the pulse of dissonance was not lost on me. I felt it keenly.’

  Lyn bent down and tapped Nat's exposed foot with their staff, tapping twice.

  Nat slid out a moment later from underneath — the glowing light showing that he'd been hard at work during their conversation. ‘What's up?’

  ‘Mother, here, has some information on what happened to Moira that I think you should know. Also, how's the pattern work coming along?’

  A cluster of hand-sized wreaths of blue fire spun into existence, arrayed in front of Nat. Some were clearly variants of Moira's door, but others were — Lyn acknowledged privately — quite passable attempts at the healing pattern they'd shown him. Possibly superior to their own. Nothing close to Moira's quality, unfortunately, but it would suffice to start.

  ‘Just so you know, the glowing hands make it really easy to understand you. Also, I decided to try for a few smaller ones, so that we could compare effectiveness. Anyway, what was that about Moira?’

  Lyn couldn't be sure in the darkness, but Tessan seemed to sit up and take notice as Nat waved and casually called forth his patterns. For their part, Lyn refused to appear impressed — one of the first rules of working with cognition sensitive materials was that if someone walked out on air successfully, you didn't tell them to look down.

  Tessan, for their part, answered smoothly, ‘Your friend attempted to replicate a dissonant signal — degraded, but not sufficiently so. They likely did by accident to themselves what happened to me, and what I fear to pass along to my children.’

  Nat looked confused, ‘A dissonant signal? What signal?’

  Tessan's wing swept out powerfully, but the gesture faltered halfway with a grimace. She collected herself before continuing, albeit with more subdued movements, ‘The rift pulse. The screams of agony, despair, and isolation of thousands of souls caught in the moment of their death — it increases in volume each time it spills forth, and I cannot silence it.’

  Nat turned to Lyn, eyebrow raised. ‘So, is she saying that Moira affected herself with a miniature version of what drove all the Ber mad, in trying to create an opposing pattern?’

  Lyn nodded, ‘You were part of it — do you agree?’

  Nat frowned, then directed his next question to Tessan, ‘And you are suffering from this, somehow, too?’

  Now it was Tessan's turn to nod, and they curved their wingtip down, dejected. ‘And my entire flight, in time, as I cannot flee the effects with my wounds, and especially not my wing.’

  Lyn's mind had been dutifully simmering over the last two weeks of strange happenings, trying to distill meaning from what seemed to be disconnected events. A flash of insight became a cascade of revelations as a number of seemingly unrelated data points lined up, if one made only one grim — all too believable — assumption. ‘Oh, no. I think I understand what is going on.’

  ‘With Moira?’

  ‘With the rift. With everything. Tessan? If I wasn't resolute in trying to heal you fully before, I am now.’

  ‘Appreciated, but would you mind explaining why?’

  ‘Because if I am right, I believe your testimony would be instrumental, if presented before a war crimes tribunal.’

  Nezzar interjected, ‘War crimes? You suspect an aetheric weapon? But why would the Humans bother? Even if they flattened the entire Laster plain — and we've heard nothing of that magnitude — they'd have only killed some tens of thousands. There are technologies far more capable — and even some combat Talent wielders might equal that, under the right circumstances.’

  Lyn turned to address Nezzar directly, ‘Yes, but other those unlucky souls at the rift itself — how many Humans have you seen or heard of being affected? And yet every Ber within a thousand kilometers is moving away as fast as they can swim, fly, or crawl.’

  The young Clackaw's wings dropped to the side, speechless.

  Tessan's eyes went wide, ‘But why would they? It would take the Humans a hundred years to populate the lands we've been forced to abandon already.’

  Nat blanched, ‘No. No, they wouldn't.’

  ‘Unfortunately, history does not support your assertion. Ceress is never going to let me live this down.’

  Lyn was reluctant to even sign the words, ‘I am by no means sure, but everything we've seen these last two weeks makes sense, if you make a single assumption — the schism is the first test of a weapon that only affects Ber.’