Bek shook his head vehemently, shouting soundlessly, bitterly in response.
“Think!” the other snapped irritably. “She’s kept you alive so far to find out what you know. Would she destroy your voice so that you could never speak again? Huh! No, she’s done what she does best. She’s played a game with your mind. She’s knocked you down and left you thinking what she wants you to think. It’s mind-altering, of a sort. You can speak, if you want. Go ahead. Try.”
Bek stared at him in disbelief, then shook his head.
“Try, boy.”
I’ve already tried! He mouthed the words angrily.
Truls Rohk pushed him hard. “Try again.”
Bek staggered backwards and righted himself. Stop it!
“Do what I say! Try again!” The shape-shifter shoved him a second time, harder than before. “Try, if you’ve got any backbone! Try, if you don’t want me to knock you down!” He shoved Bek so hard he almost sent him sprawling. “Tell me to stop! Go on, tell me!”
Flushed with rage, Bek charged the cloaked form, but Truls Rohk blocked his rush and pushed him away. “You’re afraid of her, aren’t you? That’s why you won’t try. You’re frightened! Admit it!”
He wheeled away. “I’ve no use for someone who can’t do more than follow at my heels like a dog. Get away from me! I’ll do this alone.”
Bek charged in front of him and blocked his way. Stop it! I’m coming with you!
“Then you tell me so to my face!” Truls Rohk’s voice dropped to a dangerous hiss. “Tell me right now, boy!” He shoved Bek again, harder than ever. “Tell me, or get out of my—”
Something gave way inside Bek, a visceral rending of self that had the feel of tearing flesh. It gave way before a mix of rage and humiliation and frustration that engulfed him like a swollen river slamming up against a dam built for calmer waters. His voice exploded out of him in a primal scream of such impact that it lifted Truls Rohk off his feet and sent him flying backwards. It bent the branches of trees, flattened tall grasses, shredded bark, and tore up clots of earth for a dozen yards. It began with the shriek of a hurricane’s winds as it sapped the forest silence, then layered it anew in a darker and more suffocating blanket.
Bek dropped to his knees in shock and disbelief, coughing out the final shards of noise, the sound of his voice dropping to a startled whisper.
Truls Rohk picked himself up and brushed himself off. “Shades!” he muttered. He reached out his hand to Bek and pulled him to his feet. “Was that really necessary?”
Bek laughed in spite of himself. It felt good to hear the sound again. “You were right. I could speak all along.”
“But not until I got you mad enough to make you do so.” The shape-shifter’s impatience showed in his voice. “Don’t let yourself get fooled like that again.”
“Don’t worry, I won’t.”
“You are her match, boy.”
“I’ll find out soon enough, won’t I?”
The big shoulders shrugged within the concealing cloak. “Maybe you should leave her to me.”
A chill of recognition rippled down Bek’s neck. He reached out impulsively and gripped the other’s shoulder, feeling corded muscle and sinew tighten in response, feeling knots of gristle shift. “What do you mean?”
“What do you think I mean?”
Bek’s stomach clenched. “Don’t do it, Truls. Don’t kill her. I don’t want that. No matter what. Promise me.”
The other’s laughter was harsh and empty. “Why should I promise you that? She was quick enough to try to kill me!”
“She’s as confused about things as I was. She’s been lied to and deceived. What she believes about herself and about me isn’t even close to the truth. Doesn’t she deserve a chance to find this out? The same chance you gave me, just now?”
He kept his grip on the other’s shoulder, holding on to him as if to wring the concession he sought. But Truls Rohk didn’t try to move away. Instead, he took a step closer.
“If another were to lay hands on me the way you have, I would kill him without a thought.”
Bek did not back away even then, did not dare to move, though an inner voice was screaming at him to do so. He felt impossibly small and vulnerable. “Don’t kill her. That’s all I’m asking.”
“Huh! Shall we invite her to join us, forget her evil life, forgive the past, pretend she has no alliance with the rets? Is that your plan—to talk her into being our friend? Didn’t you try that already?”
The cowled head bent close, and Bek could hear the unpleasant rasp of the other’s breathing. “Grow up all the way, boy. This isn’t a game you can start over if you lose. If you don’t kill her, she will kill you. She’s well beyond any place where reason or truth can reach her. She’s lived a lifetime of lies and half-truths, of delusions and deceptions. Think what brought her to us. Her single, all-consuming ambition is to kill Walker. If she hasn’t succeeded in doing so already, she will try her luck soon. Even though the Druid irritates me and has brought much of this misfortune on himself, I won’t give him up to her.”
Both hands shot out suddenly and snatched hold of Bek once again. “She isn’t your sister anymore! She is the Morgawr’s tool! She is her own dark creation, as deadly as the creatures she is so fond of using, the things she makes out of nightmares! She is a monster!”
Bek went still, facing into the black void of the other’s cowl. There was no question about what would happen if Truls Rohk found Grianne. The shape-shifter would not waste a moment’s time considering the alternatives. If Bek didn’t find a way to change his mind right now, the shape-shifter would kill her—or die himself in the attempt.
Before he could think better of it, before the consequences could register fully enough to make him reconsider, he said, “Some would say the same about you. Some would say that you are a monster, as well. Would they be right? Are you any different from her?”
The hands tightened on his arms. “Watch your mouth, boy. There is all the difference in the world between us, and you know it.”
Bek took a deep, steadying breath. “No, I don’t know anything of the sort. To me, you are the same. You both hide who you are. She hides behind lies and deceptions. You hide behind your cloak and hood. How much does anyone know about either of you? How much is concealed that no one ever sees? Why does she deserve to die and you to live?”
Truls Rohk lifted him off his feet as effortlessly as he would a child, his anger a palpable thing in the silence. For an instant Bek was certain the shape-shifter would dash him to the ground.
“Show me your face, if you want me to believe in you,” he said.
“I warned you about this,” the other hissed. “I told you to let it be. Now I’m telling you for the last time. Leave it alone.” He held Bek like a rag doll. “Enough. Time for us to be going. Your recovery of your voice could be heard two miles away.”
“Show me your face. We’re not leaving until you do.”
The shape-shifter shook him so hard Bek could hear his joints crack. “You can’t stand to look on me!”
Bek swallowed and stiffened. “If you aren’t a monster, if you’re not hiding the truth, show me your face.”
Truls Rohk gave an angry growl. “My face is not who I am!”
He lifted Bek higher then, almost over his head, as if he might fling him away. There was such power in the shape-shifter, such strength! The boy closed his eyes and hung in a black void, listening to his heartbeat.
Then he felt himself lowered back to the ground. The hands released him. He opened his eyes and found Truls Rohk towering over him, black and impenetrable. All around, the forest had turned oppressively still, as if become an unwilling, frightened witness to what was taking place.
“If you see me, if you really see me, it will change everything between us,” Truls Rohk said.