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Startled and suspicious, Teray spoke carefully. “I’m not after the Pattern,” he said. “As I told Coransee, I want my freedom and a chance to establish a House of my own. That’s all.”

She looked at him for a long moment, one eyebrow lifted. “I think you’re telling the truth. Which is surprising. Coransee wants the Pattern the way you and I want to go on breathing. It’s just about that basic. If somebody stopped me from healing, I might be the way he is now— climbing the walls.”

“He didn’t seem that way to me.”

“He can’t afford to seem that way. But if you were a healer, you’d know. Or just if you’d known him longer. He does things to people now, or lets things be done, that he would never have tolerated two years ago when I met him.”

“All because he wants the Pattern so badly.”

“More than wants—needs. Holding the Pattern is what he was born to do, and it needs doing. He was all right when Rayal was doing an adequate job of holding it. Now … Rayal has all he can do to keep himself alive, and it might be better for the people if he didn’t even do that. The people need a new Patternmaster, and believe me, it’s a need Coransee can feel. But he doesn’t dare do anything about it until Rayal lets go.”

“You think you know a lot about it.”

“I’m a good healer. I can’t help knowing.”

“If you’re right, it seems to me there’s not much more wrong with Coransee than there is with Jason and probably a lot of other people in this House. They’re confined here together with people they’re far from in the Pattern, and denied the right to do work that would have meaning to them—and denied a few other important things.”

She nodded. “And you see what it’s doing to them, what it’s driving them to do. Think of the damage Coransee could do if he really gave way to his frustration.”

“Don’t think he isn’t giving way to it just because you see him.”

“You’re still alive.”

He jumped, and stared at her, wondering how much she knew. “All right. But if he can neglect his House the way he obviously has and allow the kind of perversion that goes on here, I’m afraid to even think of what he’ll do if he takes on the larger responsibility of holding the Pattern.”

“No need to be. Once he has the Pattern, once desire for it isn’t eating him alive, then he’ll be able to settle down and attend to the details of protecting and leading the people. The way he protected and led his House before Rayal’s health got so bad.”

“You’re biased,” he said. “You care about him. You can make excuses for him.”

She shrugged. “Anything else I can tell you to help with your mutes?” She was getting up to go.

“No. I guess I’ll get this one back to her room.” He looked at Suliana, then at the meal he had ordered. “Shouldn’t she eat?”

“When she wakes up. Why don’t you keep her here? She’s well enough.”

“Mind your own business.”

She laughed, then sobered. “Just keep her away from Jason. That will be plenty for me.” She went out the door, leaving Teray staring after her, frowning. She was next to him in the Pattern. So close that he could have had a free, effortless, almost-involuntary communication with her. In fact, Teray had had to make a conscious effort to avoid such communication once he had accepted information from her mentally. Best to keep away from her. If he did manage to learn something that would help him against Coransee, he didn’t want to inadvertently give it to her just because they communicated so easily.

He glanced once more at Suliana, then cast around the House for Jason. The man was in his room, sleeping peacefully. Teray headed toward his room.

Three minutes later, Jason was wide awake and protesting indignantly from the floor where Teray had thrown him after he’d dragged him out of bed. Jason was not hurt, not afraid. He was angry. Angry enough to lash out hard at Teray without first noticing what the Pattern could have told him about Teray’s strength. He was strong himself, according to the Pattern; nevertheless, it would have been prudent for him to find out what he could about his opponent before he attacked.

But Teray had not wanted him to be prudent.

Teray absorbed the first wild blow and instantly traced it back to its source, through Jason’s shield. Jason was strong all right, but he had no speed. Now Teray held him, left him no more control over what happened to him than he had left Suliana. Teray extended his own screening and enveloped Jason in it so that he could not call for help. Then, quietly, methodically, Teray held the man conscious and beat him. Beat him until he begged Teray to stop, and on until he no longer had the strength to beg.

Finally, Teray gave him a parting thought and let him lose consciousness. Touch another of my mutes, he sent, and you’ll find out just how gentle I’ve been with you.

Jason passed out without replying. There was nothing permanently wrong with him, no physical injury at all. But Teray had made certain that he suffered at least as much as he had caused Suliana to suffer.

Back in Teray’s room, Suliana was awake and eating ravenously. She looked up, frightened, as he came in, and he smiled to reassure her.

“I thought I was going to have to carry you back to your room,” he told her.

“I don’t have to go back to Jason?” Her voice was soft, tentative.

“You don’t have to go back to Jason. Ever.”

“I don’t belong to him anymore?”

“That’s right.”

She sighed. “Jackman said that once.”

“I’m not Jackman. And after the … discussion I just had with Jason, I don’t think he’ll bother you again.”

She looked at him uncertainly, as though she still did not know whether to believe him. He could have set her mind at ease immediately, simply by directing her to believe, directing her even to forget Jason. That was the way mutes were usually handled. Teray preferred to let her find out for herself. He found himself unwilling to tamper with the mutes’ minds any more than he absolutely had to. They were intelligent. They could think for themselves if anyone ever gave them the chance.

“If I don’t have to go back to Jason,” said Suliana, “why can’t I stay here?”

Teray looked at her in surprise, then took a good look at her. She was small and thin——too thin, really. But she had an appealing, almost childlike kind of prettiness. And there had still been no one since Iray.

“You can stay if you want to,” he said.

She stayed.

He worried at first that he might forget himself and hurt her, but he programmed himself by his Jackman memories, made the restrictions of his self-programming automatic. Suliana enjoyed the small amount of mental stimulation that she could tolerate, and Teray enjoyed her pleasure as well as his own. He had not made love to a mute since before his transition. He found now that mentally and physically he had been missing a great deal.

The next day Suliana moved her few belongings to his room. Amber wandered up to check on her, saw that she was comfortably situated with Teray, and grinned broadly.

“Just what you need,” she told Teray. “I thought you might take my advice.”

“I wish you’d take mine and mind your own business,” said Teray.

“I am. I’m a healer, remember?”

“I don’t need healing.”

She folded her hands tightly together and held them before her. “I hardly know you,” she said. “But as you damned well know, we’re like this in the Pattern”—she gave her folded hands a shake—“so when you lie to me, don’t expect me to believe you.”

She checked Suliana over briefly and went back downstairs without another word to Teray.

And as the weeks passed, Teray, in his enjoyment of Suliana and his new interest in his work, began to come alive again. Grudgingly, he admitted to himself that Amber had been right. In a way he had needed a kind of healing.