The head had landed on top of the table. Having lost—or absorbed—its face, the thing looked like a large hairless pox but still wore its tall white cap. It pounced on the artifact, stuffed it under its cap, then dropped to the floor and scurried under the table with the rest.
“Get the hat!” KaeCee shouted.
Hat. Not cap. Aryl absorbed the new word as she shut off the force blade and exchanged it for her short knife, being safer under furniture.
She and the Human dove under the table together. KaeCee cried out as what had been a knee sprung up and hit him in the nose, but didn’t back away. Aryl squirmed between the table legs, watched for movement in the dim light. Where were the rest?
And the hat?
“There they go!”
He was right. Aryl rushed forward on her elbows, but couldn’t stop the next bit—something chest-ish—from jumping through the neat hole cut in the floor. As an escape, she had to admire it.
She glimpsed something white. “Get the hat!”
KaeCee grabbed; Aryl reached. They had it!
The hat came off in their hands, the artifact rolling free on the carpet, while the last piece of Lawren Louli plunged through its hole to safety. To put themselves back together below? Aryl let go of the hat and wiggled forward, cautiously peeking down the hole as she picked up the artifact.
It didn’t open to the lower level of
Then KaeCee’s hand clamped over her bare wrist.
She could
Waves of
Repulsed on every level, Aryl freed herself with a quick twist, shields now firmly in place. She hurried out from under the table and to her feet, putting the artifact back on the table. Not that it mattered.
The flood of
KaeCee straightened his jacket as he stood, smiling with triumph.
“You are ours, now,” said Aryl di Sarc.
He staggered, smile gone. “So that’s your game, is it? Filthy mindcrawlers! If it’s a fight you want, that’s fine with me. I’ll make you beg,” with quite inexplicable confidence. Unless the Human couldn’t imagine abilities great than his own.
He’d learn.
Naryn lifted an eyebrow.
The last thing she wanted to do was touch him again, but Aryl didn’t hesitate. The Human was pitifully slow. Before he could begin to evade or struggle, she slammed the side of his face against the tabletop, her arm around his sweaty neck and a knee in his spine. It wasn’t helping the M’hiray below. It wasn’t being with Enris. It did, however, feel remarkably satisfying.
“That will do.” Naryn laid her palm along his forehead.
He began to scream.
Just as well, Aryl thought coldly, the Assembler had such a private space. She kept her shields at their most impenetrable. Even so, she
More than an echo, she
She couldn’t leave Naryn now.
The screams were replaced by a soft moan with each inward breath. He had no shields—no shields against M’hiray.
Suddenly, the moans stopped. The body in her hands relaxed. Naryn took away her hand.
Aryl released her grip slowly and stood back, tensed to spring at the Human if he offered any threat.
There was none. His face was reddened on one side. Trails of clear fluid glistened on his cheek and chin, but a peaceful smile played over his mouth. His hands straightened his jacket, then tidied his hair. His eyes were shot through with blood, and absolutely calm. He stood at ease, as if waiting. For what?
She stared at Naryn.