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.