The ride
took over an hour, but going from Nebraska to Peru couldn’t be done more
quickly than by hanging onto lightning. In fact we didn’t come out of the upper
atmosphere the entire time, watching the sprites fly by.
We finally
arrived over Peru, where we hung in mid-air on windwalked platform. Our legs
dangled over the edge as we looked at the Nazca Lines.
“Some say
the Gaeans made them, but others say it was us,” Natalie said.
“Why would
Storm Riders make them?” I asked. I stopped the trickle of lightning I had sent
through the portable cooker, and pulled out the still-warm fried chicken,
passing it over to her.
“No clue.
They probably got drunk and thought it would be fun. Maybe to freak out the
farmers. I’ve heard that’s the reason the Gaeans made Stonehenge.”
“Really?
The Gaeans made Stonehenge?”
Natalie
shrugged. “Beats the hell out of me. Who else could do it? We can go check that
out later, but it’s not as impressive from the air. Not like these.”
“Yeah, this
is pretty spectacular.”
“Wait until
we get to the Retreat.” She smiled.
“Can’t
wait.” I tore into my chicken leg.