Lillibeth Tripp's Arc

Chapter 5 of 9

The open wind carried Lillibeth past the cliff, and for a while the sky felt clean. Then she saw it. A wall of dark cloud rolled toward her across the open air. Streaks of blue and pink light cut through its rolling front. It was wider than any storm she had ever tracked. If she flew into it, her wings would tear. She scanned the cliff line below. A small stone dome sat alone on a jut of rock, its curved entrance turned away from the wind. Lillibeth banked hard and dropped toward it. Her wings shook as the first gusts hit. She skidded inside just as the air went white with grit. The rabbit trembled against her chest. Lillibeth set the drowsy pink creature on the dried moss and pulled out a heavy stone disk her old teacher had once kept on a shelf. Its crystal markers caught the dim light. She had watched him read storms with it as a child. She pressed the markers in the order she remembered, then watched the colors shift. The dial told her the storm would pass in a day. Not three. Not four. One. Her weather window would hold, but only just. She sat back against the curved stone wall and breathed. Outside, the dust cloud screamed past the entrance, and the light streaks lit the doorway in flashes. Lillibeth stroked the rabbit's ears and waited. She had not beaten the storm. She had only stepped aside. But she was alive, and the dial said the sky would open again. When it did, she would have less time than she planned, and no room left for any mistake.