His gaze went blank and he frowned, as if he were in danger of losing his line of thinking.
“You joined the garrison,” Lirra prompted.
His gaze sharpened once more and he continued. “Anyway, my point is that I believed myself strong in both body and mind. I thought I could do anything, endure anything, to serve Karrnath. But I was wrong. I was overconfident today. I was determined to do well, to justify your faith in selecting me to receive a symbiont, Captain. And when I saw that the general himself was going to observe my test, I was doubly determined to acquit myself with honor. I was so concerned with impressing you both that I forgot about my symbiont, just for an instant. But that’s all it took. If it had managed to kill you …”
“But I didn’t die, Osten, and Ksana was able to heal the injuries I sustained. And while I’m sure the process wasn’t pleasant for you, we were able to remove the symbiont. You’re free now. And while the test may not have turned out the way you’d have wished, remember this: You resisted the symbiont’s influence longer than most could have. You should be proud of yourself.” But even as she said this, she wondered if she would feel proud if their roles had been reversed. Probably not, she decided.
“You’re wrong, Captain.” He turned his head so that he could gaze upon the fire once more. “About my being free, I mean. The symbiont is no longer attached to my body, and it’s sealed up tight back in its cage. But I can still hear its whispering in my mind. I think perhaps I always will.”
Lirra had to suppress a shudder at Osten’s words. “Give it time. The whispering will fade.”
“Perhaps.” But Osten didn’t sound as if he believed it. He changed the subject then. “Most of the others have been keeping their distance from me, but a few have come over to talk. They told me that Lord Bergerron has ordered the Outguard to cease our experiments and vacate the lodge. They also told me that your uncle has managed to convince the general to allow one last experiment to prove to Bergerron that our program has merit and should be allowed to continue. Are these things true?”
“More or less. The general has given the order for us to begin packing up our equipment in preparation for leaving. He wants us to be out of here before sunset tomorrow. My uncle has proposed a final experiment-one that he’s been preparing for the last several weeks-but the general is still considering the matter and hasn’t given his permission yet.”
“But Elidyr prepares nevertheless,” Osten said. It wasn’t a question.
“Yes. Just in case.”
“Do you think your father will approve the experiment?”
“I don’t know. I hope so.” She was of two minds about the matter. On the one hand, she’d devoted months of her life to this project-as had everyone else in the Outguard-and she wanted it to be a success. But on the other hand, she thought of what Ksana had said earlier in Vaddon’s den, about how symbionts could never be controlled, certainly not reliably. Rhedyn may have succeeded, but he was the only success out of dozens of attempts. She was beginning to believe that the cleric was right, and the project had been a fool’s dream from the start. Still, if there was a chance to salvage even a modest success from all their failures, she believed they should at least make the attempt.
“What sort of experiment?” Osten asked.
“Elidyr believes he has a way to artificially nullify a symbiont’s ability to dominate its host. He’d hoped to have a few more weeks to work out the details before attempting the process, but he’s almost finished with the construction of the apparatus needed for the experiment, and he believes he’ll be ready to test it by tomorrow morning or afternoon at the latest.” At least, that’s what her uncle had promised Vaddon. She wondered if he’d be able to deliver on such short notice. Then again, Elidyr was a brilliant man. If anyone could accomplish the task, he could.
Neither of them spoke for several moments after that, and Osten appeared to be deep in thought. Finally, he said, “So if Elidyr gets the chance to test this new process tomorrow, he will need volunteers to help him.”
Lirra understood where Osten was going with this, and she didn’t like it.
“I know what you’re getting at, and while I can sympathize with you wanting to make another attempt at mastering a symbiont, I can’t-”
Osten interrupted her. “Hear me out, Captain. I’m not asking for a second chance simply to redeem myself.” He paused. “Well, not only for that reason. Believe me, after what I’ve been through, I’d be only too happy never to hear the word symbiontagain, let alone have one of the damned things attached to my body. But as you said earlier, I did manage to successfully bond with the tentacle whip, and I was able to maintain control for several days before it finally succeeded in dominating me. I know what it’s like to resist a symbiont’s influence. I’ve done it, even if for only a short time.” He turned away from the fire to look at Lirra once more. “Besides, if Elidyr’s process works, the whip won’t be able to dominate me.”
“And what if the experiment is a failure and the whip takes control of you once more?”
Osten shrugged. “Then you’ll just have to cut the thing off of me again. Look, I know better than most just how powerful a weapon a symbiont can be. After all, I was bonded to one. Can you imagine the contribution a division of symbiont-enhanced warriors could make to Karrnath’s defenses. Five divisions? Twenty? That’s worth the risk to me.”
Lirra understood how Osten felt. After all, it was the same vision that had motivated her to join the Outguard in the first place.
“Very well. I’ll discuss the matter with the general-if he allows the experiment to go forward. All right?”
Osten gave her a smile-a real one, this time. “Thank you, Captain.” He then turned back to face the fire once more.
Lirra sat with him in silence for a few more moments before taking her leave. Osten needed to rest … especially if he was going to attempt to bond with a symbiont again the next day.
She just hoped her uncle knew what he was doing.
“So now that I’ve promised my brother I’ll work a miracle tomorrow, I need you to help me deliver, Sinnoch.”
The dolgaunt made a liquid rattling in his throat, a sound Elidyr had learned was the equivalent of a sigh. “Ideally, we could use another two weeks to prepare, but I suppose we could be ready in three days if we pushed ourselves. But in less than twenty-four hours?” The creature shook his head, his mane of tentacles writhing slowly like a nest of half-asleep serpents. “I don’t see how we can do it.”
The two stood in Elidyr’s workroom in one of the lodge’s lower levels. Wooden tables lined the wall, their surfaces covered with books, scrolls, and bits of parchment arranged in seemingly haphazard piles. Everbright lanterns resting on the tables provided illumination, and while Elidyr appreciated the lanterns’ convenience-unvarying light, no wick to burn down-he missed working by candlelight, as he had during his student days at Morgrave University. There was something romantic and mysterious about it, as if one were reading in some hidden chamber, delving into ancient and forbidden lore.
One table in the workroom was reserved for Elidyr’s artificer’s tools, devices both small and large, mundane and arcane, from simple hammers and screwdrivers to etheric energy aligners and thaumaturgic rebalancers. And in the middle of the table rested a square metal framework constructed from two-foot lengths of focusing steel, an extremely expensive material designed to collect and channel various types of energy. There were three flat panels inserted into the framework, and upon each was fastened a row of crystalline objects even more expensive than the focusing steel. Some were translucent with pulsating veins that made them seem almost alive, while some were a glowing blue and green.