The Apogian War

Chapter 83

sciousness a woman, dark and vital, bearing a living flame, a great circle of faces pouring out raw emotion. I heard Marjorie gasp, fought to break the rapport. Shamal Sherat We had been sealed to it, we were caught and drawn to the fires of de struction. Nol No Marjorie cried aloud, and I saw the fires thin out and van ish. They had never been there. They were reflected in the dying coals of our ritual marriage fire, the eerie edge of light around Marjorie's face as only the last firelight there. She whispered, trembling, "Lew, what "You know," I hesitated to say the name aloud, "Kadarin. And Thyra. Working directly with the sword. Zandru's hells, Marjorie, they are trying to use it the old way, not with a Keeper-controlled circle of telepaths in an orderly energon ring-and it's uncontrollable even that way, as we found out-but with a single telepath, focusing raw emotion from a group of untrained followers." was it?" "Isn't that terribly dangerous?" "Dangerous! The word's inadequate! Would you k****e a forest fire to cook your supper? Would you chain a dragon-fire to roast your chops or dry your boots? I wish I thought they would only kill themselves! I strode up and down by the dead fire, restlessly listening to the bat tering of the storm outside. "And I can't even warn them at Arlinn!" "Why not, Lew?" "So close to-to Sharra-my own matrix won't work," I said, and tried to explain how Sharra evidently blanked out smaller matrices. "How far will that effect reach, Lew?" "Who knows? Planet-wide, maybe. I've never worked with anything that strong. There aren't any precedents." "Then, if it reached all the way to Arilinn, won't the telepaths there know that something is wrong?" I brightened. That might be our only hope. I staggered suddenly and she caught at my arm. "Lew! You're worn out. Rest by me, darling." I flung myself down at her side, dizzy and despairing. I had not even spoken of my other fears, that if I used my personal matrix, I, who had been sealed to Sharra, might be drawn back into that vortex, that savage fire, that corner of hell.... She knew, without my saying it. She whispered, "I can feel it reach ing for us.... Can it draw us back, back into itself?" She clung to me in terror; I rolled over and took her to me, holding her with savage strength, fighting an almost uncontrollable desire. And that frightened hell out of me. I should be drained, spent, exhausted, incapable of the slightest s****l impulse. That was frustrating, but it was normal, and I had long since come to terms with it. But this wild l**t-and it was pure l**t, a hateful dark animal thing with no hint of love or warmth-set my pulses racing, made me gasp and fight against it. It was too strong, I let it surge up and overwhelm me, feeling the fire burn up in my veins as if some scalding ichor had replaced the blood in my body. I smothered her mouth under mine, felt her weakly struggling to fight me away. Then the fire took us both. It is the one memory I have of Marjorie which is not all joy. I took her savagely, without tenderness, trying to slake the burning need in me. She met me with equal violence, hating it equally, both of us gripped with that uncontrollable savage desperation. It was fierce and animal-no! Not animal! Animals meet cleanly, driven only by the life force in them, knowing nothing of this kind of dark l**t. There was no innocence in this, no love, only raw violence, insatiable, a bottomless pit of hell. It was hell, all the hell either of us would ever need to know. I heard her sobbing helplessly and knew I was weeping, too, with shame and self-hatred. Afterward we did not sleep.

Even at Nevarsin, Regis thought, it had never snowed so hard, or so persistently. His pony picked its way deliberately along, following in the steps of Danilo's mount, as mountain horses were trained to do. It was snowing again. He wouldn't mind any of it, he thought, the riding, the cold or the lack of sleep, if he could see properly, or keep the world straight under him. The threshold sickness had continued off and on, more on than off in the last day or so. He tried to ignore Danilo's anxious looks, his concern for him. There wasn't anything Danilo could do for him, so the less said about it, the better. But it was intensely unpleasant. The world kept thinning away at ir regular intervals and dissolving. He had had no attacks as bad as the one he'd had at Thendara or on the way north, but he seemed to live in mild chronic disorientation all the time. He didn't know which was worse, but suspected it was whichever form he happened to have at the time. Danilo waited for him to draw even on the path. "Snowing already, and it's hardly midafternoon. At this rate it will take us a full twelve days to reach 'Thendara, and we'll lose the long start we had." The more quickly they reached Thendara, the better. He knew a mes Sage must get through, even if Lew and Marjorie were recaptured. So far there was no sign of pursuit. But Regis knew, cursing his own weak ness, that he could not take much more of the constant exertion, the long hours in the saddle and the constant sickness. Earlier that day they had passed through a small village, where they had bought food and grain for the horses. Perhaps they could risk a fire tonight-if they could find a place to build itt "Anything but a hay-bam, Danilo agreed. The last night they had siept in a barn, sharing warmth with several cows and horses and plenty of dry hay. The animals had made it a warm place to sleep, but they could not risk a fire or even a light, with the tinder dry hay, so they had eaten nothing but hard strips of cured meat and a handful of nuts.