She woke suddenly, eyes flying open to stare up at him. Fear began to fill them and he moved back, holding his hands up so she could see he didn’t intend to harm her.
“You were running,” he said quietly. “Through the forest. Then you stole a riding beast. It brought you a fish.”
She stared at him, then whispered, “How do you know?”
“I shared your dreams,” he said. “They came to me, I didn’t look for them, Ghaysa. The male hurt you. Your thigh.” He looked down, seeing the bandaged leg through the overlap of the robe. “His claws cut you.”
“You saw that too?” She shut her eyes.
“Only when you remembered it,” he said. “But nothing since then. Why? Why should I sense you so strongly?”
She looked at the robe she wore, touching the purple trim on it. “You’re a Human telepath.”
He could hear the fear in her voice. “That’s why you’re safe with me.”
“You’re in danger.”
He frowned. “Me? Why should I be in danger?”
She flicked an ear in a negative. “Not just you. Telepaths. But I can’t remember why.”
Now he was confused. “Your memory will return,” he said gently, not knowing what else to say. “You’ve been through so much, it’s no wonder you don’t want to remember it right now. How long were you Derwent’s captive?”
“The Human? Only a short time.”
“I thought he was the one in the dream.” If not Derwent, then who? It hadn’t been a Sholan male, of that he was positive, even though the male in the dream had been mostly in shadow.
“No,” she said slowly. “Not the Human. Someone else.” She frowned, her hand going instinctively to her bandaged thigh. “The Human didn’t harm me like that.”
Relief flooded through him. He’d not been too late, then. He heard a scratch at the door and went to answer it. It was Banner, carrying a bundle of clothes.
“From one of the Sisters. I noticed Ghaysa’s were torn. She can’t keep your robe.” He hesitated, putting a hand up to scratch behind his ear. “What do you plan to do about her? She can’t stay here indefinitely, nor come to Stronghold with us. Not even bond-mates are allowed to do that. Have you managed to find out anything about her yet?”
“Nothing. She’s really lost her memory, though. Whatever happened, it’s terrified her.” He sighed. “We’ve another couple of days here before I’m due back at the estate. I could take her with me. She’d be safe there, surely.” Then he remembered her warning. “Jurrel’s coming with me, why don’t you come, too?” If danger did threaten, and he wasn’t convinced it did, he’d rather have Banner with them as well. “Where is Jurrel?”
“It’s second meal. He’s gone to get food for us all. She looks like she could do with a few decent meals.” He hesitated. “I’ll think about coming with you. Jurrel might prefer me not to.”
This time, Brynne didn’t try to avoid the amusement in the other’s eyes and voice. “You’re just as welcome as Jurrel. You’re his Companion.”
“Don’t undervalue yourself, Brynne,” he said. “You matter to Jurrel, too.” He touched him lightly on the arm. “Now, do I have to stand out here, or can I come in? I also brought some fresh dressings for Ghaysa’s leg.”
* * *
Showered, her bandages replaced with fresh ones, and dressed in decent female clothing, Ghaysa began to relax a little. They couldn’t possibly mean her any harm. Hadn’t they kept the Protectors away from her?
She found the Human intriguing. So like her own kind, yet different at the same time. They greeted her in a friendly way when she finally joined them on the floor round the plates of food. After helping her to generous portions, they continued talking among themselves. The two Sholans were telling stories of their time on the Humans’ planet, Keiss.
“I’ve never been there,” said Brynne. “I came direct from Earth.”
“Now there’s a world I’d like to visit,” said Jurrel, waving the bone he’d been gnawing. “From all accounts it’s like Shola was back at the time of the Cataclysm.”
“You wouldn’t like it,” said Brynne, feeding some scraps of meat to Belle. “Fumes, smog, too many road vehicles. And the mental noise!” He shook his head.
“No psi dampers?” asked Banner.
“They still don’t really believe in our gifts,” reminded Jurrel.
“Nothing. You had to grin and get on with it,” said Brynne. “Night was best, when most folk were asleep, then you could have your mind to yourself again.”
“So you like it here?” asked Banner, reaching for some more bread.
She could sense him considering his answer.
“Not at first,” Brynne admitted. “My Leska Link with Vanna Kyjishi happened almost as soon as I set foot on this world. From then on, my life was decided. It’s only now that I feel I’ve begun to get control of it again.”
“Despite the dreams and visions?” asked Jurrel.
She felt the Human’s eyes on her, and concentrated on her food.
“Yes. They’ve helped me save one person so far.” He looked away, his attention back on his companions. “It’s what I did on Earth. Helped find missing persons.”
“You did? We do that, too,” said Jurrel. “You should mention it to Tutor Kha’Qwa.”
“You kill them,” Ghaysa blurted out, shocking them to silence.
“You listen to too much gossip,” said Banner, his voice a low rumble of reproval.
“What else is there?” she countered.
“The truth. Not everything we do is negative, Ghaysa,” said Jurrel, passing her a glass of the fruit juice he’d just poured. “We do far more that is positive, only no one hears of it.”
She snorted disbelievingly.
“You’ve had dealings with us before?” asked Jurrel.
An image flashed into her mind of a room and a tall figure, black-robed like them, standing with the sun behind him. She remembered weights at her wrists, and clenched her hands, claw tips pressing into her palms. The image faded. “No,” she lied, aware that the Human had picked up something of it from her.
“Leave her, Jurrel,” said Brynne lazily. “Her memory will come back in its own time.”
He was protecting her from his fellow Brothers? Why would he do that for her, a total stranger?
Not quite, came back his thought. You forget I know you through the dreams.
“Whether or not she has, she can ask for sanctuary here,” said Banner. “The merits of her case would be looked at dispassionately by Guardian Dhaika. It could be granted if she agreed to entering a closed order.”
“I’m sure that’s not necessary,” said Brynne. “She’s not a convict. It was Derwent she’s been running from all along. He’s been free for a couple of months now.” He looked over at her again. “He thought she was my Leska, Vanna. And there was the rape. That was Derwent.”
Banner made a noise as if he was clearing his throat. “If he had her captive, why let her go?”
“He left her for dead,” said Brynne.
She’d told him it hadn’t been the Human! Why was he lying like this for her? Yes, she’d been left, but not quite for dead. He’d known she was still alive.
“I told you, I need the chemical your body produces,” he’d said, rising to his feet and reaching for his clothes. “Was as little pleasure in this act for me as you. Biting you made us dependent on each other. This sets us both free.” He pulled the tunic over his head, looking down at where she lay bleeding on the ground. “Go. Get help for yourself. It’s over for you. I go on alone now. Believe me, those responsible for making me use you like this will pay dearly.”
He’d pulled on the robe then, belting it. “I regret wounding you,” he said, hesitating. “You served me well, but you fought me. The error was yours. I have never injured you before, I did not intend to do so now. You should have trusted me to do what was best for both of us. Tell me your name. I wish to remember it.”
“Ghays
a!” She was being shaken now. Moaning, she put her hand up to her head. It hurt. Remembering hurt more than she could bear.
She felt herself lifted and carried, then placed on the bed. The one called Banner looked at her eyes, felt her pulse.
“Shock,” he said, pulling a cover over her. “She needs to be kept warm. We should go. If you need us, you know where we are.”
“I’ll call you,” said the Human. His voice sounded close, then she felt the bed move as he sat beside her.
A gentle hand pushed her hair back, continuing the caress between her ears as she heard the plates and glasses being collected, then the door closing.
She could sense Brynne more strongly now, knew he was like the Brother who’d come for her, the one who’d stood against the light. He’d been fair with her. She felt herself begin to drift to sleep, knowing with him, she was safe.
Chapter 11
JURREL had dropped by to make sure all was well before retiring. They’d talked quietly for several minutes before Brynne had said what was really on his mind.
“I feel drawn to her,” he said, leaning against the doorpost.
“You would be, you’ve shared so much of her suffering. I am, when I sense her through you.”
“Through me?” How much had Jurrel picked up, he wondered, fear tightening the pit of his stomach.
Jurrel shrugged, putting his head to one side, mouth opening in a slow smile. “I pick up your emotions when I’m near you, and today, when you were sensing her . . .” He left the sentence unfinished.
“Being Talented is more complex than I thought,” Brynne said, relieved.
“It’s a world of the senses, which you have to experience to understand. You’re aware of so much more that’s going on around you than those without a gift. That’s why you have to face yourself without fear, and be responsible for your own actions,” said Jurrel. He hesitated, obviously unsure whether to continue. “You realize what happened this afternoon, don’t you? You went kzu-shu. It’s a Sholan thing. You’ve done what you were afraid to do, accessed your Sholan side fully. You can’t go back now, can’t block it off any more.”
“I knew I couldn’t go back the night we spent together,” he said quietly. “I’m beginning to come to terms with myself.”
“Don’t look too deep,” Jurrel said, smiling again. “You can get lost doing that. Vartra knows, Banner and I don’t have an exclusive relationship, we’ve had female lovers, too, but this one . . .” He shook his head, obviously concerned. “We know nothing about her, except she’s lost her memory.”
“She’s harmless,” said Brynne. “Far more hurt than capable of hurting me. I trust her.”
“You’ve touched her mind, you should know. Just be yourself, do what you think is right rather than what you think’s expected of you.”
“With you around to remind me, how can I forget?” Brynne countered, reaching out to clasp him briefly on the shoulder.
Jurrel put his hand up to cover Brynne’s. “There’s something else I must talk to you about. Is Ghaysa asleep?”
Puzzled, Brynne nodded.
“Have you ever killed before?” he asked in a low voice.
Shocked, Brynne would have pulled away from him, but Jurrel held onto his hand.
“I take it you haven’t. Don’t look so shocked, my friend. What do you think I’m training you to do in the gym at Stronghold? We’re fighters, we kill to protect, not for the sport. We’re not murderers.”
“I know, but . . . I didn’t think that . . .” he stammered.
“Calm down, Brynne. Look we can’t talk here,” he said, glancing up and down the corridor. “Can you leave her for a few minutes and come to our room? I’m sure Banner would watch her for you.”
He hesitated, aware of how important Jurrel considered this. As far as he was concerned, he had no regrets over killing Derwent. After the stunt he’d pulled a few days ago, and the way he’d treated Ghaysa . . . Jurrel’s grip on his hand tightened.
“We must talk, Brynne.”
Brynne nodded and followed him down the corridor to their room.
Jurrel opened the door and called to Banner. “Would you mind watching Ghaysa for a while? I need to talk to Brynne.”
“Sure,” came the reply. He heard the bed creak. Banner came out wearing the short black Brotherhood tunic. “Take what time you need.” He strolled down the corridor.
“Thanks.” Jurrel stood aside for him to enter.
The room was identical to his, large enough for the usual double bed and two small night tables at either side of it, a couple of drawer units, and a chest at the foot of the bed. A desk, with the ubiquitous comm unit, stood against one wall.
Brynne perched on the edge of the chest, assuming Jurrel would join him there. He didn’t, instead he chose to sit on the bed, making Brynne twist round to see him.
“You’re going to tell me I shouldn’t have killed Derwent, aren’t you?” he asked defensively.
“No, I’m not going to do that. After all, I wasn’t there, I don’t know the dynamics of the situation. In the Brotherhood, you’ll be taught to kill more efficiently than you would in any other military organization. If you take someone’s life, you need to be sure it’s never done lightly.”
“It wasn’t,” said Brynne. “I know what was in his mind. He thought she was Vanna, my Leska, and was threatening my life.”
“I know he was,” said Jurrel quietly. “In normal circumstances, you’d not find yourself in a situation where the decision to kill was yours alone until nearing graduation, by which time you’d be emotionally as well as physically prepared for it. Today’s happening was unfortunate.”
“I don’t have a problem with it.”
“Not now, but you may later, Brynne. You killed Derwent with your bare hands. You saw his face, heard his last breath, even if you can’t remember it now. At some point, that memory will come back and have to be dealt with.”
Brynne had looked away uncomfortably as he’d spoken. Unbidden, the image of Derwent’s face had, indeed, come to his mind, “I don’t want to remember it,” he said harshly, standing up. “The man was mad. If I hadn’t come along, he planned to rape her. After sharing her memories of that, do you think I’d let him get the chance to do it again just to get sanctuary at Stronghold?”
He pushed aside memories of times shared with Derwent, good times as well as bad. He did not want to remember any of it.
“I’m not criticizing your actions, Brynne, only offering my help if you find you need it. I’d be failing in my duty to you—and as a friend—if I didn’t tell you this.”
It was an awkward moment for him, poised between taking offense and the knowledge Jurrel was only saying this because he genuinely cared about him. He could see his friend’s concern in the expression on his face and the set of his ears, as well as feel it.
“If I need help, I’ll come to you,” he said.
She’d been pinned down in an alleyway, a blind end. There’d been cover, huge trash dumps overflowing with paper waste and cardboard packaging. She’d hidden there, picking them off with her pistol as they tried to rush the opening, but her ammunition charge was running out now.
The sound of sirens split the night. The Protectors. They’d likely save her, but did she want that? To her right, something hit the ground with a hollow clatter then rolled a few feet before coming to rest. A gas canister. Already thick fumes were beginning to spill from it, pouring across the ground toward her. She put her gun down, knowing it was useless now. Better to be found without it in her hands, then at least they couldn’t accuse her of resisting arrest along with everything else.
She began to cough, eyes starting to stream as the fumes reached her. Powerless, she keeled over.
Awake now, she remembered the cell, smelling the stale air and hearing once more the creaking door. She recalled the scent of blood as he slit the throat of the medic, saw again how it had sprayed into the air and over the ceiling and walls; saw again the gu
ard’s face as he writhed in agony when she kept the stun gun trained on him. His death cry echoed in her mind.
* * *
Her dream had triggered Brynne’s own nightmare. He saw his hands round Derwent’s throat, throttling the life out of him, pressing tighter and tighter till his face became swollen, taking on a bluish tinge. He felt hands clutching at him, shaking him.
* * *
Whimpering, she reached out for Brynne, lying asleep on top of the bed beside her. “Make them stop,” she whimpered. “Oh, Gods, make them stop! I don’t want to remember any more!”
Groggily, trying to dispel his own nightmare, he pulled her close, wrapping his arms around her as she shivered and whimpered, her hands clutching at him in terror.
More was coming back to her now. The flight from Shanagi, landing the aircar in the clearing in the forest. The telepath they’d taken as hostage. He’d killed him, then turned to her, thinking she was a telepath, too.
She scrambled from the bedding, crouching on all fours, beside herself with terror, not knowing whether to run or stay. “It wasn’t me!” she whimpered. “I didn’t mean to do it!”
She felt herself grasped firmly round the waist and pulled close. His arms went round her, containing her, holding her and her fear still; she smelled his scent, almost Sholan, yet different.
“Hush! You’ll bring someone here,” he said urgently, afraid it would rouse Jurrel. “You’re broadcasting! You’re safe.”
Struggling against him, trapped within her own head, she knew she was only trying to run from herself. Her whimper deepened, becoming a howl, which was suddenly silenced as he covered her mouth with his.
Stop it, Keeza, she heard him say in her mind. I’m here. You’re safe, but you must keep quiet!
Shocked, she became still, feeling his grip slacken slightly as his tongue hesitantly touched her lips.
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