Story #48
Ten of Cups
The crew stared up at the sky in wonder. It was a rainbow. Or, at least a fractured shimmer of one. For some of them, it was the first sky rainbow they’d ever seen. For others, it was the first they’d seen since the bombs fell about fifty years ago, altering weather patterns, and it was a sight they hadn’t thought they’d live to see again.
Sephie, the Elemental, had pulled water together, condensed it, and it had actually began to rain. It was the first time she’d tried, and with her captain, Analee’s, encouragement, it had worked! There were a few euphoric moments when the crew felt drops fall against their skin, the harsh, sand-filled winds that usually dominated the days seemed suspended around the skiff they slid and crawled across the desert in, and the dry, parched ground seemed to vibrate, reach up to drink in the coveted droplets.
All at once the boat was shrouded in a heavy downpour. There was a crackle of electricity and a low rumble of thunder. Karl, their helmsman, struggled to navigate back down to the deck. Sven and Max, who still remembered rain from their youth, were linking arms, dancing around the deck, laughing like little boys.
Analee wished that she could revel in the achievement, but she knew that such an event could be seen for miles, and in a land where the scarcity of water drove every decision, they’d just put themselves in a dangerous position. Though the desert seemed desolate, Analee knew from experience that there were eyes everywhere. What they were witnessing was nothing short of a miracle, and everyone was going to want to control it.
