“Pardon, sir, but they were communicating.”
The older man whipped around. “What? She is supposed to have no Talent.” He stalked over to peer down at me. I closed my eyes. It was instinctive. I knew he couldn’t do anything with his eyes, yet I couldn’t bear the thought of looking into them.
A sharp kick to my ribs shocked me into looking up into bitter blue eyes. He probed my gaze while I felt a new foreign presence in my head, one tasting of rust. My already abused stomach expelled its acid, forcing me to turn my head to retch it onto the dirt floor at his feet. My ribs screamed at the effort while Hadrian’s anger flooded my mind with deadly intensity.
“You are right.” The old man grabbed my hair and wrenched my head back so that he could peer at my face again as though he had missed something. My eyes watered. “Uranio,” he said to one of the two remaining Segia imposters, “You have my permission to eliminate Tyronne. He is a complete moron to have missed this.”
His probe pushed deeper into my externus than where Severin’s presence continued to linger. If he kept it up, he was going to encounter a ConProp trigger. I traced the commisceo-link and shoved the image of the area in his brain that Hadrian needed to protect across it just as the leader tripped one of my most basic defenses. My Talent-sight went black with a thundering crash. Something struck my head, and I tumbled into nothingness.
* * *
Hadrian
A cool rush of mint overloaded my senses as Zezilia’s sending blossomed in my head. Not even a second later, our connection winked out like a snuffed lamp, leaving only the smoke of debilitating isolation in its wake. Thrasius and Severn were flung backwards across the room, striking the stone wall with a satisfying clatter of metal, followed by the crash of the ferrum falling from my suddenly limp fingers.
I didn’t waste time. I lunged for my ferrum. My fingers closed on the hilt.
“Not so fast.” The mesitas stomped down on my blade, trapping my fingers beneath his weight.
Touching my amoveo, I grabbed the mesitas with my energy and was about to fling him when Thrasius’ weak voice stopped me. “Errant sept son kills the mesitas. Isn’t that against your precious Talent Code?” I sensed him huddled on the floor, apparently not fully recovered from his encounter with Zez’s ConProp.
I looked up into the ancient mesitas’ terrified eyes. The events of the past three years flooded my thoughts, all the attempts on my life, the political slander, and the ridicule. Yet, deep within me, I knew it would be wrong. As easy as it would be to hurl the man across the room and run my ferrum through his black heart, it would not honor the Almighty. Give me strength, I prayed. Slowly, I lowered the man to the ground.
“Kill him, Septimus,” Thrasius ordered as though he were commenting on the weather.
With wooden movements that reminded me of Lorne, Eldivo drew his ferrum and ran the mesitas through. The ancient man’s face registered a moment of disbelief before he crumpled to the floor. Eldivo’s eyes were horrified behind the mask of his features. Then, I understood why Eldivo showed no sign of resistance. He was completely under one of the Elitist’s control.
* * *
Chapter XVI
Zezilia
My head throbbed, my muscles felt like jelly and my joints were limp, but I was alive, praise the Almighty God.
I lifted my head from the earth, despite my neck and shoulders’ protests. Resting it back on the ground where I could see what was going on around me, I brushed my amoveo and initiated my energy-sight. Thankfully, all of the abuse that my body took barely touched my mind. I placed the strongest temporary barriers I knew around every possible spot I could, equipping them each with the ConProp trigger. They wouldn’t be able to even brush my mind without setting something off, freeing me from their control, and flinging them away. Around the nerve area of my externus, I erected a permanent barrier like the one around my angulus and the commisceo-link area. Once all these were in place, I was ready to hold off any mental warfare.
I scanned the room. Two of the Segia imposters flanked the Elitist leader. One of them kept his eyes constantly on Eldivo, probably to keep him under his control. The other concentrated on the Elitist leader. My Talent-sight could easily spot the globe of orange energy surrounding Hadrian at a distance, and I guessed that was coming from the third man standing less than a foot from me, my tormentor. He stooped slightly with a supporting hand on his lower back. The mesitas lay in a crumpled heap at Eldivo’s feet.
“Was it necessary to kill him?” Hadrian asked.
The Elitist leader waved the question away without answering it. The movement was shaky as though it hurt. “The more important issue is how to deal with you, Sept Son.” He frowned over at Hadrian. “You are a very annoying man. You have killed my best assassins, foiled every plot to undermine your men, and remained annoyingly alive despite my men’s best efforts.”
Thrasius limped across to the table, turning his back to Hadrian. Something metal glinted in the lantern light as he plucked it off the table’s surface. I couldn’t be sure that Hadrian had seen it. I shot a glance at my guard. He had somehow sensed Hadrian and my communication before. There was no guaranty he wouldn’t again.
“That was the Almighty’s doing.” Hadrian reached out to test the boundaries of his prison with his left hand. He still had his ferrum in his right hand. If I could just deal with the barrier for him, he would be able to fight. Despite the lack of a link between us, I could still feel his frustration.
“Ah, yes, the mesitas did say you were obsessed with the false god of equality.” He turned back to Hadrian, concealing his left hand in the flap of his tunic. The movement parted the tunic on the other side, and the hilt of a sword peeked out from beneath it.
I inched my hand over to reclaim my ferrum. If I didn’t move soon, Hadrian would be dead. The moment my fingers closed around the leather of the hilt of my blade, I sprung into motion, praying all the while that my muscles would obey my commands. I scrambled to my feet and flung myself at my torturer, closing my energy around him like a vise, freezing him in place. Then remembering my training, I squeezed. His eyes bulged, and he let out a scream before suddenly going limp and sagging to the floor when I released him. He breathed, but his broken ribs insured he wouldn’t be able to do much if he came around.
“Thank you,” Hadrian sent.
I didn’t have time to check that he was free of the orange energy before the next closest Segia was upon me, sword drawn and whipping at my head. I ducked and sidestepped his charge before engaging his blade as he came around.
As we exchanged blows, he tried to make jabs at my mind with his own. However, he apparently hadn’t been trained to multitask because the attempts were weak. He might be well trained by their standards, but he lacked concentration. The faster I returned his physical assault, the more he focused on his swordplay. I redoubled my efforts, ignoring the burning protest of my already fatigued arms. His sword work was shoddy. I knew that I was bargaining that my skill and training would overwhelm my muscle exhaustion long enough to defeat him. However, it was my best bet. If it came down to just a battle of the minds, it would be an unfair struggle. He didn’t abide by the same ethical rules I did. In that case, the best I could hope for is accidentally impaling him on something when I ConPropped.
Almighty, give me strength, I pleaded.
* * *
Hadrian
The barrier fell, but I didn’t move. Instead, I watched Eldivo. Thrasius glanced at Zezilia and then back at me, apparently unaware that nothing hindered me from cutting him down where he stood. One of the imposter Segia moved to restrain Zezilia while the other continued to guard Thrasius. I still didn’t look at her but continued to study Eldivo.
With the shift in the Segias’ attention, Eldivo shuddered as though suddenly coming to himself and then looked down in horror at the crumpled corpse at his feet. Finally, he lifted his head and met my gaze.
“I… I didn’t want to.” Tears filled his pal
e brown eyes. “You must believe me.” His mouth trembled with suppressed emotion.
“I believe you,” I replied.
“He will deal with her, but I have yet to decide what to do with you.” Thrasius’ voice drew my attention back his way. A quick look over my shoulder placed a Segia engaged in a swordfight with Zezilia as they wove back and forth around a fallen man. Her movements were slower than usual for her, but she was holding her own against him. As much as I wanted to spring to her aide, I couldn’t. Almighty, please protect her.
Thrasius’ remaining bodyguard drew his sword from his sheath, throwing the leather casing aside and into my line of sight. I turned back to face Thrasius and found the Segia imposter advancing on me.
“I wouldn’t dismiss her so quickly,” I replied. “Or me either.” I raised my ferrum.
“You have indeed defeated my other men,” Thrasius admitted, drawing a silver gisto from the folds of his tunic. He pointed it at me, staying the motion of my blade with the threat. Whether poisoned or simply contaminated, the effects of a prick from the tip of the dart within the weapon would be horrible. “However, even the mighty Hadrian Aleron isn’t immune to the effects of the stracken berry. My men have been trying to overcome its effects for years now to no avail. All it takes is a small amount to block the connection between mind and amoveo. A bit more and your mind will open up like a flower to the sun, laying bare all your secrets for my selection.”
I shook my head without dropping the Segia’s gaze. “You will learn nothing from me.” I would destroy my own mind before giving him the tiniest bit of information.
The old man laughed. “It would be so easy.” He ran a gnarled finger along the length of the gun from barrel to trigger, stroking the trigger twice. “However, I prefer the more challenging way, superior breeding pitted against arrogance.” He dropped the gisto to the ground and kicked it aside. “I shall show you the truth. Set aside your fancy sword and meet me mind to mind. Surely, you don’t fear an old man at the end of his powers.”
I studied his face. The weathered folds of skin and wrinkles of many years covered features that had once been distinctive. I didn’t respond.
“Surely old man Neleck taught you some tricks that you have never been given a chance to use.”
Neleck had, but I had no compulsion to try them out on anyone. I shook my head. “You are mistaken. I will adhere to the Code. I have come here to free Eldivo.”
“Very well.” Thrasius shrugged as though he didn’t care either way, but a strong emotion came across on a level that I had never sensed before. Before I could analyze it, he flung himself at me. His cold fleshy hands clamped on either side of my face, fingernails biting into my skin, and forced me to stare into his bitterly cold blue eyes. His taste, rusting metal, made me want to gag as he drove into my mind. His tactic, an ancient one I had read of only in books, was to slide across the uppermost layer of my mind, filling me with a sense of uncleanness and claustrophobia beneath the blanket of his presence.
I fought to expel him but to no avail. Raising my ferrum, I moved to slash at him with it, but the bodyguard knocked it from my grip with one heavy blow. Korneli’s warnings of my ferrum skills growing rusty teased my mind.
Thrasius poked at my nerve center. He wasn’t able to penetrate my newly erected wall, but his movement did bring a wave of nausea at his foreign presence. I projected it back at him along with the images of the men who had died because of his plans.
“So, she warned you.” He laughed, and it echoed painfully in my ears. “She is obviously a resourceful woman.”
The anger came out of nowhere. I reached out with all my mental energy and tried to shove him from my mind. Simultaneously, my hands grabbed his and tried to remove them from my face. He clung like a leech, laughing. I should have been able to wrench him loose. After all, I was larger and younger than he. Yet, I couldn’t. Despair flooded me.
“Temper, temper, my boy,” he hissed. “Now, my men are going to have even more fun knowing that she was your…”
I didn’t even let him finish the thought. Unleashing a mental attack bordering on the edges of acceptability, I plunged into his head, disturbing everything I could in my path. The pure uncleanliness of the contents reviled me, but I pressed on toward his connection with his amoveo. There were things I could do to make it so he could never use it again.
“Oh, no, you don’t,” Thrasius chided.
“Let Hadrian go!” Eldivo’s scream, accompanied by his body slamming into us, forced Thrasius to loosen his grip on my face as we fell to the ground in a heap. His fingernails shredded the flesh of my cheeks, but he couldn’t hold on, especially when Eldivo began to pummel him with his fists. “You lying, murdering…”
“Enough!” Thrasius’ mental shout exploded in my brain, rendering me temporarily blind. I clutched my throbbing head, ignoring the sting of the scratches, as the echoes bounced around. I attempted to mute them, and Thrasius turned on Eldivo. “You sniveling child. How dare you attack me? For that, you will die.”
I shook my head and tried to disconnect from the old man’s mind, spotting my fallen ferrum. The Segia hesitated, uncertain of what to do now that the puppet had attacked his master. Diving for my weapon, I had barely enough time to raise it up to defend myself. An Elitist underling sprang into motion, focusing his homicidal intentions on me. After the first volley of blows, I was able to scramble awkwardly to my feet. The young man renewed his assault, fiendish glee contorting his features.
Suddenly, I sensed Eldivo’s angry and frightened presence and mildewy taste mixed in with the rust of Thrasius. My stomach and nose recoiled at the combination. I fought, but I couldn’t seem to cut my connection. Seeing my momentary lapse in concentration, the Segia took advantage of it and increased his blows. I struggled to keep him at bay, fully aware that I was losing ground a dangerous rate. If I didn’t recover soon, he was going to back me into the corner.
Via the strange connection between us, I mentally watched in horror as Thrasius planted a particularly nasty Satoconatus command with a suicide switch in Eldivo’s externus. At the same time, I lunged foolishly at my assailant, recklessly diving for the fraction of an opening he had left in his defense. My sudden movement, completely at odds with my tactics up to this point, caught the man off guard. It was almost cruel to do it, but I didn’t have a choice. Pushing through the gap, I drove home the winning blow. My ferrum passed beneath his ribs and up into his heart. A flicker of fear, so brief I wasn’t even certain it had even been there, crossed his face to disappear as he fell, dead before his body touched the ground.
I turned to the closest struggle. The old man and young boy were engaged in both a physical and mental battle. “Stop! He isn’t the one you want,” I protested, my fear and anger flooding my connection with the old man.
Thrasius’ attention turned to me in surprise, as though he hadn’t realized we were still connected. “There is no reason for me not to have a little fun with him first,” he replied. Then, he calmly flicked the trigger on the Sato.
Eldivo screamed both mentally and physically. His head whipped back, and he began convulsing even before he collapsed to his knees. I dropped my weapon to instinctively clap my hands to my ears. The sound pierced through my mind, disrupting my thoughts. Thrasius moved to withdraw from Eldivo’s mind, but he realized too late what I had already discovered. We couldn’t break our connections. We would have to work together to break the link, which wasn’t going to happen. So, the only way to escape and avoid following Eldivo into death or madness was to ConProp. Apparently Thrasius, like me, did not have that skill.
As Thrasius’ panic coursed through me, following the crescendo of Eldivo’s agony, I realized that I was most likely going to die with them. I fell to my knees, gripping my head and fighting their rising emotions. I reached out to the Master of the universe. I am coming, Father. Please give me strength to face the crossing.
Blackness filled my vision. Eldivo’s keening mental cries
harmonized with his harsh sobbing. Thrasius’ rage, a dark and violent storm, ripped through my head. I closed my eyes and tried to relax, riding the waves as they grew in strength and intensity. Sharp pains gripped my chest in tandem with the chaos already within my head.
Abruptly, everything crashed into mental darkness.
I looked for my Lord’s face.
Instead, someone grabbed my arm and called my name.
I couldn’t answer.
“Hadrian,” Zezilia’s slightly panicked voice came from above me.
My heartbeat was slowing, seeking its normal rhythm as her concern filtered into my consciousness.
“Hadrian?” A gentle hand pushed my hair back from my face and then stroked my cheek, carefully avoiding the scratches. Then, Zezilia’s fresh taste filled my senses. “Hadrian?”
I slowly became aware of the hard floor pressing into my back and hips. Somehow, I had ended up lying on my back. I grimaced at the uncomfortable angle of my left leg. “What happened?” I asked. “I’m supposed to be dead.”
Zezilia’s relief washed over me like a tidal wave. I opened my eyes to find her grey eyes only inches from mine. Slowly, I focused on her face and the long laceration that ran from near her ear to her left eyebrow. “You’re bleeding.”
She lifted her hand to touch her face, then bringing it out so she could see the slick redness on the fingertips. “Apparently I am. I wondered if he had broken the barrier. I have a nasty bruise forming on the back of my head too. I think I obtained it when I ConPropped.”
“Eldivo?” I no longer sensed either of the men, but I could strangely still hear Eldivos’ gasping cries for mercy.
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