bumped up against the captive’s mind. Then she felt Akkarin’s mind drift into hers. Before she could feel any alarm, he sent something---a concept—into hers. Instead of trying to separate and lose all the intentions but one, she should concentrate only on the one needed.
Suddenly she knew exactly how to slip past the captive’s resistance. In less than a heartbeat she had drifted into his mind.
—
Good. Now keep that light touch. Watch his thoughts. When you see a memory you wish to explore, exert your will on his mind. This is more difficult. Watch me.
The man was thinking about the tooth, wondering if his master had been watching when the girl had appeared.
—
Who are you?
Akkarin asked.
—
Tavaka
.
Abruptly, Sonea became aware that he had been a slave, until recently.
—
Who is your master?
—
Harikava. A powerful Ichani.
A face, distinctly Sachakan, flashed through his mind. It was a cruel face, hard and clever.
—
What are the Ichani?
—Powerful magicians.
—
Why do they keep slaves?
—
For magic
.
A multilayered memory flashed through Sonea’s mind. She had the impression of countless memories of the same incident: the slight pain of a shallow cut, the drawing of power…
The Ichani, she understood suddenly, used black magic to draw power from their slaves, constantly strengthening themselves.
—
No more! I am a slave no longer. Harikava freed me.
—
Show me
.
The memory flashed through Tavaka’s mind. Harikava sat in a tent. He spoke, saying that he would free Tavaka if he undertook a dangerous mission. Sonea sensed Akkarin take control of the memory. The mission was to enter Kyralia and find out if Kariko’s words were true. Was the Guild weak? Had it spurned the use of greater magic? Many slaves had failed. If he succeeded, he would be accepted among the Ichani. If he did not, they would hunt him down.
Harikava opened a wooden box trimmed in gold and gems. Taking out a sliver of something clear and hard, he tossed it in the air. It floated there, slowly melting before Tavaka’s gaze. Harikava reached to his belt and drew an elaborate curved dagger with a jeweled handle. Sonea recognized the shape. It was similar to the one she had seen Akkarin use on Takan, so long ago.
Cutting his hand, Harikava dripped blood over the molten globule. It turned red and solidified. Taking off a thin band of gold from many that ringed his fingers, he molded it around the gem so that a tiny red glint was all that could be seen. She understood what this gem would do. Every sight, every sound, and every thought he had would be sensed by his master.
The man’s eyes rose to meet Tavaka’s. She felt an echo of the slave’s fear and hope. The master beckoned and, with his bleeding hand, reached for his knife again.
The memory ended abruptly.
—
Now you try, Sonea.
For a moment she considered what image to prompt the man with. On impulse, she sent a memory of Akkarin in black robes.
She was not prepared for the hatred and fear that filled the man’s mind. Glimpses of a recent magical battle followed. Akkarin had found him before he could strengthen himself enough. Harikava would be disappointed and angry. Kariko would be too. An image of several men and women sitting in a circle around a fire appeared: a memory Tavaka did not want her to see. He forced it away with the skill of someone well practiced in hiding memories from searching minds. She realized she had forgotten to grasp for control of it.
—
Try again. You must catch the memory and protect it.
She sent Tavaka an image of the circle of strangers as she remembered it. The faces were wrong, he thought. The face of Harikava appeared in his mind. Exerting her will, she “caught” the memory and blocked his efforts to stop it.
—
That’s right. Now explore as you wish.
She examined the faces carefully.
—
Who are these Ichani?
Names and faces followed, but one stood out.
—
Kariko. The man who wants to kill
Suddenly she knew exactly how to slip past the captive’s resistance. In less than a heartbeat she had drifted into his mind.
—
Good. Now keep that light touch. Watch his thoughts. When you see a memory you wish to explore, exert your will on his mind. This is more difficult. Watch me.
The man was thinking about the tooth, wondering if his master had been watching when the girl had appeared.
—
Who are you?
Akkarin asked.
—
Tavaka
.
Abruptly, Sonea became aware that he had been a slave, until recently.
—
Who is your master?
—
Harikava. A powerful Ichani.
A face, distinctly Sachakan, flashed through his mind. It was a cruel face, hard and clever.
—
What are the Ichani?
—Powerful magicians.
—
Why do they keep slaves?
—
For magic
.
A multilayered memory flashed through Sonea’s mind. She had the impression of countless memories of the same incident: the slight pain of a shallow cut, the drawing of power…
The Ichani, she understood suddenly, used black magic to draw power from their slaves, constantly strengthening themselves.
—
No more! I am a slave no longer. Harikava freed me.
—
Show me
.
The memory flashed through Tavaka’s mind. Harikava sat in a tent. He spoke, saying that he would free Tavaka if he undertook a dangerous mission. Sonea sensed Akkarin take control of the memory. The mission was to enter Kyralia and find out if Kariko’s words were true. Was the Guild weak? Had it spurned the use of greater magic? Many slaves had failed. If he succeeded, he would be accepted among the Ichani. If he did not, they would hunt him down.
Harikava opened a wooden box trimmed in gold and gems. Taking out a sliver of something clear and hard, he tossed it in the air. It floated there, slowly melting before Tavaka’s gaze. Harikava reached to his belt and drew an elaborate curved dagger with a jeweled handle. Sonea recognized the shape. It was similar to the one she had seen Akkarin use on Takan, so long ago.
Cutting his hand, Harikava dripped blood over the molten globule. It turned red and solidified. Taking off a thin band of gold from many that ringed his fingers, he molded it around the gem so that a tiny red glint was all that could be seen. She understood what this gem would do. Every sight, every sound, and every thought he had would be sensed by his master.
The man’s eyes rose to meet Tavaka’s. She felt an echo of the slave’s fear and hope. The master beckoned and, with his bleeding hand, reached for his knife again.
The memory ended abruptly.
—
Now you try, Sonea.
For a moment she considered what image to prompt the man with. On impulse, she sent a memory of Akkarin in black robes.
She was not prepared for the hatred and fear that filled the man’s mind. Glimpses of a recent magical battle followed. Akkarin had found him before he could strengthen himself enough. Harikava would be disappointed and angry. Kariko would be too. An image of several men and women sitting in a circle around a fire appeared: a memory Tavaka did not want her to see. He forced it away with the skill of someone well practiced in hiding memories from searching minds. She realized she had forgotten to grasp for control of it.
—
Try again. You must catch the memory and protect it.
She sent Tavaka an image of the circle of strangers as she remembered it. The faces were wrong, he thought. The face of Harikava appeared in his mind. Exerting her will, she “caught” the memory and blocked his efforts to stop it.
—
That’s right. Now explore as you wish.
She examined the faces carefully.
—
Who are these Ichani?
Names and faces followed, but one stood out.
—
Kariko. The man who wants to kill
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