“Assembler,” the Human informed them. “Did you think she was Human?”
The head had landed on top of the table. Having lost—or absorbed—its face, the thing looked like a large hairless pox but still wore its tall white cap. It pounced on the artifact, stuffed it under its cap, then dropped to the floor and scurried under the table with the rest.
“Get the hat!” KaeCee shouted.
Hat. Not cap. Aryl absorbed the new word as she shut off the force blade and exchanged it for her short knife, being safer under furniture.
She and the Human dove under the table together. KaeCee cried out as what had been a knee sprung up and hit him in the nose, but didn’t back away. Aryl squirmed between the table legs, watched for movement in the dim light. Where were the rest?
And the hat?
“There they go!”
He was right. Aryl rushed forward on her elbows, but couldn’t stop the next bit—something chest-ish—from jumping through the neat hole cut in the floor. As an escape, she had to admire it.
She glimpsed something white. “Get the hat!”
KaeCee grabbed; Aryl reached. They had it!
The hat came off in their hands, the artifact rolling free on the carpet, while the last piece of Lawren Louli plunged through its hole to safety. To put themselves back together below? Aryl let go of the hat and wiggled forward, cautiously peeking down the hole as she picked up the artifact.
It didn’t open to the lower level of Doc’s Dive but to a curved pipe just wide enough to fit the bits. Clever, Aryl had to admit.
Then KaeCee’s hand clamped over her bare wrist. You are for me. You are MINE!
She could hear him?
MINE!
Waves of heat and need and domination. Something fumbled at her mind. Inept, untrained, blind to what it violated. MINE! You will want ME!
Repulsed on every level, Aryl freed herself with a quick twist, shields now firmly in place. She hurried out from under the table and to her feet, putting the artifact back on the table. Not that it mattered.
ARYL!? Enris, there at once. Are you all right? What was that?
The Human. He has some kind of Power. He touched me.
The flood of fury that answered made her hands shake. I’m coming!
No. Stay. Protect the others. Aryl calmed herself and sent reassurance and determination.
Naryn and I will handle this.
KaeCee straightened his jacket as he stood, smiling with triumph.
The Human’s a fool, she finished, and smiled back.
“You are ours, now,” said Aryl di Sarc.
YOU ARE OURS! Naryn’s Power struck the Human’s mind.
He staggered, smile gone. “So that’s your game, is it? Filthy mindcrawlers! If it’s a fight you want, that’s fine with me. I’ll make you beg,” with quite inexplicable confidence. Unless the Human couldn’t imagine abilities great than his own.
He’d learn. Scan him, Aryl suggested coldly. All we need is to know who will buy the artifacts, what to expect. They could leave the body here.
Naryn lifted an eyebrow. Oh, I think our KaeCee has much more to offer than information. “Hold him.”
The last thing she wanted to do was touch him again, but Aryl didn’t hesitate. The Human was pitifully slow. Before he could begin to evade or struggle, she slammed the side of his face against the tabletop, her arm around his sweaty neck and a knee in his spine. It wasn’t helping the M’hiray below. It wasn’t being with Enris. It did, however, feel remarkably satisfying.
“That will do.” Naryn laid her palm along his forehead. Now, Human. Teach me.
He began to scream.
Just as well, Aryl thought coldly, the Assembler had such a private space. She kept her shields at their most impenetrable. Even so, she felt the Power Naryn drew through his mind, like a knife through flesh.
More than an echo, she felt a surge of Power from another source altogether, like a welcome breath of fresh air. Pride. Relief. She had to smile. Enris. Whatever he’d done, it would protect the M’hiray from Louli. Her smile faded. Good.
She couldn’t leave Naryn now.
The screams were replaced by a soft moan with each inward breath. He had no shields—no shields against M’hiray.
Suddenly, the moans stopped. The body in her hands relaxed. Naryn took away her hand.
Let him go.
Aryl released her grip slowly and stood back, tensed to spring at the Human if he offered any threat.
There was none. His face was reddened on one side. Trails of clear fluid glistened on his cheek and chin, but a peaceful smile played over his mouth. His hands straightened his jacket, then tidied his hair. His eyes were shot through with blood, and absolutely calm. He stood at ease, as if waiting. For what?
She stared at Naryn. What have you done?
“It’s called ‘influence,’ ” with unutterable disgust. At herself, or the Human? Both, Aryl decided, gorge rising in her throat. “KaeCee’s an expert. That’s what he wanted to do to you. Turn you into—” Naryn shook her head. “—it doesn’t matter. The technique only works on Humans, and only those Humans with their M’hirless version of Power. Telepaths. Weak minds, susceptible to suggestion. The effect is permanent.”
“Why?”
Naryn sat down and took hold of the artifact, tipping it to send reflections over his face. “KaeCee? What should we do with the Hoveny artifacts?”
The Human answered at once, his tone sure and brisk. “It means a deep cut in price, but I’ve buyers in mind on Unaligned worlds. No Commonwealth or Trade Pact connections to worry about. We couldn’t move them on any Innersystem world, or within any space held by the First. I’ll ensure no one can trace the artifacts to you. I regret this will take time to arrange, but I’ve sufficient creds in my hidden accounts to get the Clan into proper accommodations immediately. And to buy clothes, idents. You’ll want to be able to move around Grandie society without undue notice. When the artifacts are sold, I’ll deposit the funds in various separate accounts and will recommend suitable individuals to manage each for maximum growth. The Clan won’t have to worry about wealth.” Finished, he stood, waiting. Peaceful, content.
Better to have slit his throat, Aryl thought, sickened to her core. Naryn . . .
Think I enjoyed being in a Human’s mind? That I wanted to learn this? Her mindvoice was weary. That I wanted to do this, even to him? Aloud, “How many Humans are on this world, Aryl? How many of them could help us? Of those who could, how many would? Council will agree with my actions. We couldn’t afford to waste this opportunity. There might not be another.”
“There are thirty-one Human telepaths in Norval,” KaeCee corrected. “Fourteen of those are under my influence. They could be useful. I’ll introduce you.”
“See what I mean? I can’t imagine a better Human.”
“Naryn!”
Naryn tucked the artifact within her robe. “Haxel’s sure our people are safe for now. KaeCee, we’ll ’port with you to your office in the Sun Layer and you can . . .”
Aryl stopped listening.
Naryn’s quick thinking, her sacrifice—for soiling her mind had been that, too—had probably saved the M’hiray.
She closed her eyes.
What Naryn had done—she wished she could believe it would never happen again. But she couldn’t.