Free The Fractured Sky by Thomas M. Reid Page B

you had just adhered to the rules?”
    Tauran held his hands up in despair. “It is always possible,” he admitted. “I cannot foresee the outcomes any better than you.” That’s why I feel like I’m standing on the edge of this maelstrom, ready to throw myself over. “But every way I look at this, I see the same thing. Every part of my body just feels that I am right.”
    It was Micus’s turn to throw his hands up. “We are not creatures of gut instincts and intuitive guesswork, Tauran. Watching you place so much emphasis on ‘feelings’ troubles me more than anything. As far as I’m concerned, the path is clear. There is no deliberation necessary. The law is the law, and we are bound to abide by it.”
    Tauran nodded, staring at the wet rock before him. “I understand,” he said. He felt a great sadness wash over him. “You would handle this differently. I had hoped you would see my viewpoint, had hoped that all these years of diving together from this point had allowed us to share some common insight. I guess it is not to be.”
    Micus reached out and placed his hand upon Tauran’s arm. “I’m sorry, my friend. I do see the value in what you taught me, but vigilance can only carry one so far. Powers much greater than ourselves have both the wisdom and insight to guide the rest of us, and we have the wisdom—and the responsibility—to be guided. If you doubt, turn to Tyr. He is mysterious, but he will not lead you astray.”
    Tauran smiled. How can you be so sure? he thought. “I hope you are right,” he said.
    Micus rose up onto his knees. “Do not stay out here much longer, my friend,” he said. “This storm seems to grow worse by the moment.”
    “I won’t,” Tauran promised. “See you in a while.”
    Micus stood and launched himself into the tempest. Fighting the winds, he flew off, leaving his friend alone to contemplate.
    Tauran frowned as he watched the other angel grow small before vanishing within a cloud bank. The storm is going to get worse, he thought. Much, much worse.
    Micus had not been gone long when another angel arrived
    at Tauran’s ledge. She swooped up from below and hovered for a heartbeat or two, then she settled in the spot where Micus had stood only a moment before. She reached out to steady herself against the buffeting winds.
    Tauran started at her arrival, then he smiled and stood. “Eirwyn!” he said. “I hate it when you do that.”
    “Oh, you do not!” she replied. “You’re very glad to see me, and you know it.”
    She looked older than Tauran, her bronze skin crisscrossed with wrinkles. Her merry eyes twinkled with genuine friendship as she smiled. Her long, flowing hair hung down in a single braid over one shoulder. It gleamed silver in the cloudy day.
    She went straight to Tauran. “You look very tired,” she said, embracing him.
    I am tired, he thought. Bone weary, as the mortals say. “I’m better now that you’re here,” he said. “What’s brought you?”
    The elder deva adapted a look of mock indignation. “Why, Tauran! You wound me! Think you so little of my divination skills that you would doubt my ability to know when and where I am needed?”
    Tauran laughed, gladness filling him for a moment. “You divined that I would be here?” he asked.
    “No, I did not expect to find you here,” she answered. “I merely augured that I would be needed here, at this time. As usual, I was right.” She hugged him again, then pulled back to stare the angel squarely in the face. “What troubles you?” she asked.
    Tauran looked away and felt the full weight of his worries. “I don’t know,” he said, watching the storm-tossed clouds roil around the two of them. “I fear that I am losing my way, Eirwyn,” he said, returning to gaze earnestly at her. “No one
    seems to see what I see, the menace that seems to be gathering in the House. Not even Micus shows any grasp of the threats I fear.”
    Eirwyn sighed. “This feud between Tyr and Helm has