longer complete, no longer whole. Losing a piece of tech – as had Elric, Blaylock, and many others – became a crippling injury.
Gowen might believe the tech a sacred path to enlightenment, but these golden ropes bound the mages to darkness. He wanted to burn them out of his body, to be free. As the tech's restless energy swelled, the gold flared to a dazzling, jaundiced yellow, and a hard shiver ran through him. Galen focused on his exercises, slowed his breathing, the pounding of his heart. Bit by bit, the brilliant yellow dulled, dimmed. The normal pulsing resumed.
The Shadows took life and twisted it to their own use, just as they had done with Anna. Whatever that life had been before, whatever it had thought or wanted or believed, was lost. Just as whatever he had been was lost. He could not be free of the tech, so long as he lived. Could he free himself, though, of just one tiny piece? He studied the spherical contours of the transceiver. It looked the same as the other transceivers in the tech, revealing no special purpose or capability. Data appeared beside the image: size of the transceiver, distance to it.
He could use the position of the organelle and the data from it to target the swollen cluster. How accurate he would be, he didn't know. Galen rocked back and forth, his hand pressed flat against the scarf. Perhaps it was time, now, to join her. She'd told him he needed to transcend himself in three ways: He must open himself to others, open himself to himself, and open himself to God. He'd done the first two in his own limited, unsuccessful way. The third he'd not even known how to attempt. He believed there was no God. And if there was a God, and He had willed all that had happened to happen, then Galen despised Him almost as much as he despised himself. So in that, her final task, he must fail, as he had failed in so much else. Besides, if he did open himself again, he knew what would come out. Destruction. Death was certainly his long-overdue punishment. If that was to be his fate, he only hoped the Circle would find some other way to stop Elizar. For Elizar must be stopped. Elizar and Razeel, he corrected himself.
Elizar and Razeel must be stopped.
The golden cluster of the transceiver shifted, taking on Elizar's face.
"This is your own fault, Galen. If you had joined me, if you had shared your secret, none of this would be necessary."
Galen jerked erect, disoriented. He had nearly fallen asleep. It was late. He suddenly realized how exhausted he was. It must be the organelles, pushing him to sleep so they could better perform their healing tasks.
He had lost track of his exercises. He began a new one, trying to rouse himself. But he was too tired to do what he planned.
He needed to rest.
He broke contact with the organelle and lay down, his head hitting the pillow before he expected it.
More than anything, he wanted to kill Elizar and Razeel. How good it had felt to kill Tilar. And how much better it would feel to kill them.
C HAPTER 6
Elric lay in the dark, his body throbbing with emptiness. He no longer fought it; he simply allowed it to fill him, to define him. He found no point, anymore, in struggling against it. Some of the others had gone this way. They had spoken to him of their weariness, of the effort to endure.
He had always thought it worth the effort, to continue to do what good he could. Yet he no longer felt himself able to accomplish anything of worth. He had not been able to save Soom, had not been able to help any of the countless other planets targeted by the Shadows. The mages were safely hidden away; they no longer needed him. He had done his duty. Let them find new leadership at last. As for Galen, Elric could offer no help.
He had chosen duty over Galen time and again, had lied to the boy, and ultimately had destroyed their relationship. He wished that, somehow, Galen could find a path to happiness, but he didn't see how it might be achieved.
Perhaps Blaylock could
Gowen might believe the tech a sacred path to enlightenment, but these golden ropes bound the mages to darkness. He wanted to burn them out of his body, to be free. As the tech's restless energy swelled, the gold flared to a dazzling, jaundiced yellow, and a hard shiver ran through him. Galen focused on his exercises, slowed his breathing, the pounding of his heart. Bit by bit, the brilliant yellow dulled, dimmed. The normal pulsing resumed.
The Shadows took life and twisted it to their own use, just as they had done with Anna. Whatever that life had been before, whatever it had thought or wanted or believed, was lost. Just as whatever he had been was lost. He could not be free of the tech, so long as he lived. Could he free himself, though, of just one tiny piece? He studied the spherical contours of the transceiver. It looked the same as the other transceivers in the tech, revealing no special purpose or capability. Data appeared beside the image: size of the transceiver, distance to it.
He could use the position of the organelle and the data from it to target the swollen cluster. How accurate he would be, he didn't know. Galen rocked back and forth, his hand pressed flat against the scarf. Perhaps it was time, now, to join her. She'd told him he needed to transcend himself in three ways: He must open himself to others, open himself to himself, and open himself to God. He'd done the first two in his own limited, unsuccessful way. The third he'd not even known how to attempt. He believed there was no God. And if there was a God, and He had willed all that had happened to happen, then Galen despised Him almost as much as he despised himself. So in that, her final task, he must fail, as he had failed in so much else. Besides, if he did open himself again, he knew what would come out. Destruction. Death was certainly his long-overdue punishment. If that was to be his fate, he only hoped the Circle would find some other way to stop Elizar. For Elizar must be stopped. Elizar and Razeel, he corrected himself.
Elizar and Razeel must be stopped.
The golden cluster of the transceiver shifted, taking on Elizar's face.
"This is your own fault, Galen. If you had joined me, if you had shared your secret, none of this would be necessary."
Galen jerked erect, disoriented. He had nearly fallen asleep. It was late. He suddenly realized how exhausted he was. It must be the organelles, pushing him to sleep so they could better perform their healing tasks.
He had lost track of his exercises. He began a new one, trying to rouse himself. But he was too tired to do what he planned.
He needed to rest.
He broke contact with the organelle and lay down, his head hitting the pillow before he expected it.
More than anything, he wanted to kill Elizar and Razeel. How good it had felt to kill Tilar. And how much better it would feel to kill them.
C HAPTER 6
Elric lay in the dark, his body throbbing with emptiness. He no longer fought it; he simply allowed it to fill him, to define him. He found no point, anymore, in struggling against it. Some of the others had gone this way. They had spoken to him of their weariness, of the effort to endure.
He had always thought it worth the effort, to continue to do what good he could. Yet he no longer felt himself able to accomplish anything of worth. He had not been able to save Soom, had not been able to help any of the countless other planets targeted by the Shadows. The mages were safely hidden away; they no longer needed him. He had done his duty. Let them find new leadership at last. As for Galen, Elric could offer no help.
He had chosen duty over Galen time and again, had lied to the boy, and ultimately had destroyed their relationship. He wished that, somehow, Galen could find a path to happiness, but he didn't see how it might be achieved.
Perhaps Blaylock could
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