CHAPTER 6The Ride to Caer Sécaire
Later, in the apartments that had been Ganelon’s, I waited for the hour of Sabbat. And as I waited, I paced the floor restlessly. Ganelon’s feet, pacing Ganelon’s floor, but the man who walked here was Edward Bond. Amazing, I thought, how the false memory-patterns of another person, impressed upon Ganelon’s clean-sponged brain, had changed him from himself to—me.
I wondered if I would ever be sure again which personality was myself. I hated and distrusted Ganelon, now. But I knew how easily the old self slipped back, in which I would despise Edward Bond.
And yet to save myself, I must call back Ganelon’s memories. I must know more than those around me guessed I knew, or I thought Ganelon and Bond together might be lost. Medea would tell me nothing. Edey
