The Ring’s Second Beat

Orra went back beneath the cliff with a mallet, a length of chalked cord, and no intention of touching the keel-instrument socket.

The socket sat in the ring’s lower bronze collar, its narrow groove shaped to accept the instrument’s keel. From the landing above, it had looked like a place to set the tool down. Up close, Orra could see a thin seam continuing from the groove into the ring’s inner edge. Whatever rested there could turn.

Nima crouched beside her, astrolabe balanced on one knee. The little constellations kept rearranging themselves across its face. “I can track the next pulse here,” she said. “If we mark the channels, we may be able to tell which way it travels.”

“From a comfortable distance?”

“Comfortable is generous.” Nima glanced at the cliff overhead. “We’ll have time to get clear if the stone starts moving.”

Orra looped the chalked cord around a projecting piece of rock and tested it with her weight. The line would keep them from sliding across the sloped stone, though it would do little for falling debris. She tapped the bronze with the end of her mallet. The ring answered with a dull, solid note.

Three carved channels converged on the outer rim. Orra followed them with her eyes: one ran inland beneath a shelf of rock, one curved down toward the chain, and the third ended at the socket. She marked each junction with a small chalk line. There were shallow scoring marks around the ring’s inner edge too, nearly hidden by mineral dust. They all pointed toward the same narrow break in the bronze.

“Someone expected this to turn,” she said.

Nima bent closer. “Or something did.”

Orra brushed dust from the break with her glove. It gathered in the crease of the bronze, then crept toward the rim in a faint, steady stream. She watched it settle. The air around the ring felt still. The dust was moving anyway.

“Pulse soon?” she asked.

Nima consulted the astrolabe. “Soon enough.”

They set the cord’s slack so it ran clear of the channels, then took positions on either side of the ring. Orra kept one hand on the cliff and the other on her mallet. Nima held the astrolabe steady, its face tilted toward the bronze.

The pulse began as a faint glow under the inland shelf. It ran along the first carved channel and entered the ring at the upper rim. Orra followed it around the bronze arc. The pulse slowed at the narrow break, gathering there until the light filled the seam.

Then the lower rim lit.

A second line of light spilled from the ring, ran down the channel toward the chain, and vanished beneath the stone. The whole passage had taken only a few breaths.