Free Ann Gimpel by Earth's Requiem (Earth Reclaimed)

It was better if no one knew your talents. Travis had used telepathy to tell her he wanted to see her again. So he must have Mage or Seer skills, too, at least to some extent. If her supposition was true, he’d taken quite a risk reaching out to her.
    There’s a whole lot I don’t know about human gifts. Maybe Travis is using something entirely different. Something I’ve never even considered. She made a mental note to ask Rune more about Marta and which skills she’d had.
    A deep rumble beneath her drove Aislinn to her feet. The world seemed to be trying to expel them. Furling her eyebrows at Rune, she asked, “So do they send little green men out with a hook next?”
    “I am not sure I understand—”
    “Never mind. It was a joke. And not a very good one.” She walked over to him. “I need the next place.”
    “How strong are you?”
    Turning her Mage sense inward, Aislinn took stock. “Medium,” she said after a pause. “I think we could go a ways.” At least, I hope we can.
    “Your mouth…”
    “Yeah, it hurts, but it probably looks worse than it feels. I’ll work on Healing it later.”
    Another pine forest filled her mind. This one bordered a large lake. Holding the vision close, she buried a hand in Rune’s neck and called up a spell. Winds—so strong that they ripped the breath from her lungs—buffeted her as soon as she and Rune left the border world. Grit blew in her face. The blisters on her lips ruptured. Fluid from them dripped down her chin. What the hell? Wary and confused, Aislinn wondered if it was always this hard to leave the borderlands. She tightened her hold on the wolf, determined to ride it out. What choice did she have? Once committed to a destination, she’d been taught it was suicide to switch locations mid-jump.
    Struggling to infuse enough magic to keep her spell going got progressively harder. It’s like trying to drive into a headwind. Takes more fuel. A harsh laugh escaped her. That world, the one with cars and gasoline, was gone. She still thought about it, because she’d understood it—and because she missed its relative predictability. In that world, soldiers got furloughed—R&R they’d called it. In this one, you fought till you died. The Lemurians had never heard of battle fatigue.
    The wind left as quickly as it had come. She drifted in a familiar black void, trying to get her breath, the thud of her heart loud against her ears. She ran an experimental tongue over her lips. They actually felt better now that the blisters had broken open. Like he’d done the other day, Rune inserted part of himself inside her. It boosted her flagging energy and reminded her of the fine edge between survival and failure. When the wolf had first shown up, she’d been afraid he’d just slow her down. Now it seemed that he might make the difference between her actually finding the gateway. Or not.
    They clunked out of the void. She didn’t have enough power for an elegant transition. One minute, they were weightless. The next, Rune shoved her behind him, hackles on full alert as he scanned the seemingly deserted forest. In spite of being tired and scared, she heard her stomach growl. It didn’t care about anything beyond its empty state.
    Knowing they had to hunt, Aislinn tried to summon enough magic to see if they’d come out somewhere safe. Rune sank into an alert sit, and she knew she could save herself for something more important. Like finding game. Or greens. The wolf would never have sat if he’d sensed danger.
    She looked around them. A lake glistened through pine boughs in rays from a setting sun. It seemed as if today ought to be long since over. Or maybe it was already tomorrow. She’d heard time flowed differently in the borderlands. If I got really lucky, it’s still yesterday. She took off at as brisk a pace as she could manage toward the water.
    Catching her up quickly, Rune nipped at her calf. “Where are you going?”
    “To see if anything edible’s