Dah’mir turned his head, following her gaze, and clicked his tongue in disapproval. “Confronted with your old love and the first name you call is the wizard’s?” he said. “Fickle!”
“What happened to him?” choked Dandra.
“Isn’t it obvious?” asked Dah’mir. “He couldn’t-or wouldn’t-return to his body the way you and Medala did. At least it wasn’t a complete waste.” He glanced into the shadows. “Although you did say his brain was … how did you put it?”
Tall, thin figures with dead white eyes and writhing tentacles in place of a lower face moved forward. Dandra felt a brush against her mind, then a sudden rush of alien sensations. Dry. Hollow. Weak.
It took a moment for her to realize the illithids were describing the taste of Virikhad’s brain.
The horror was too much. Dandra screamed and flung herself backward. She hit stone. There was no running. As the mind flayers closed around her, she dredged for her powers. Without Tetkashtai, there was so little she could do, but she wasn’t going to let the mind flayers take her without a fight. She stretched her thoughts, trying to reach for whitefire, for the invisible web of vayhatana, for the long step to carry her away from this place.
They all fell through her grasp like water. The cold minds of the illithids touched hers. She tried to empty her thoughts, to dive deep into herself for protection, but the mind flayers only grabbed her and dragged her back. They skated through her, grappling with her psyche-then froze, their collective will drawing away as if in alarm.
Dandra looked up to see their tentacles twitching in time to the gestures of their long fingers. One of their number turned to Dah’mir and Medala, and an icy voice spoke in Dandra’s mind. This is not Tetkashtai.
“What?” roared Dah’mir.
Another presence pierced Dandra’s mind, a savage attack that scattered the illithids’ powers, tore at her thoughts, and left her gasping and swaying. She knew this presence-or at least had known it. Medalashana’s touch had been gentle, organized, and disciplined. Medala’s was raw and violent. As Dandra fell forward, sprawling onto the floor of the laboratory, she saw the gray-haired kalashtar’s eyes go wide.
“How-?” Medala cursed in disbelief. She looked at Dah’mir. “It’s her psicrystal! Tetkashtai’s psicrystal walked off in her body!”
Dah’mir’s eyes narrowed. “Find out everything you can, Medala,” he said. “I want to know how this is possible.”
Medala crouched down in front of Dandra. “Look at me,” she snarled. Dandra forced her gaze down, trying to build some kind of mental defense against what she knew had to be coming. Medala’s hand shot out, though, closing on Dandra’s jaw with cruel strength and wrenching her head up.
A chime rang in Dandra’s ears, a pure sound that drove all the way through her. Medala’s eyes seemed to shimmer with silver light. Dandra tried to force her back and out of her thoughts, but it was no good. As the chime rang on and on, Medala slid deep into her mind. Dandra watched helplessly as the other kalashtar raked through her memories. The moment she had first struggled to her feet in Dah’mir’s laboratory. Her flight from the Bonetree hunters. The desperate fight in Bull Hollow. Yrlag. Lightning on Water. Zarash’ak.
Dandra strained and thrust, trying to find some way to fight back. Medala held her with an easy contempt. Stop that, the gray-haired woman said with disgust as she flickered through the memories of Dandra’s struggle with Ashi and Vennet beneath the house of blue doors.
You know I won’t, Dandra spat back at her.
Medala swatted her like she was a fly. You’re a psicrystal, Dandra. That you walk in a kalashtar’s body doesn’t make you a kalashtar. How Tetkashtai bore the shame of having you carry her-
How do you bear the shame of what you’ve become? demanded Dandra. She forced a vision on Medala, an image of her pinched and feral face held against a memory of how she had looked only months before in Sharn. What happened to you?
What happened? Medala shredded the vision with a thought. What happened? I refused to die! For a brief moment, the flow of memories from Dandra’s mind to Medala’s reversed.
Dandra saw Dah’mir’s laboratory again, but this time from another point of view and washed with blue instead of yellow-green. She saw the tortured bodies of the three kalashtar laid out on the tables, inhabited by the feeble minds of their psicrystals. She felt Medalashana’s fear and distress at her sudden imprisonment, felt powerlessness stretch her mind toward near-madness just as it had Tetkashtai’s.
But Medalashana did something that Tetkashtai hadn’t. At the moment when madness and eternal imprisonment had seemed closest, Medalashana had found the strength to reach back through the connection that bound her to her psicrystal.
Her crystal had been called Pok, a gentle spirit formed out of Medalashana’s thirst for knowledge. It had taken no effort at all for Medala to murder him, snuffing out his light and reclaiming her body.
Dah’mir had come to her then, had taken a soul broken and mad, and made her his own.
Dandra cried out and wrenched herself away from Medala’s memories. Il-Yannah! she gasped. She recalled her own memory of the moment she had taken up Tetkashtai’s crystaclass="underline" Medalashana’s blue crystal had been dark. You sacrificed your psicrystal to free yourself!
It’s the only way, Medala seethed. Take back your body or be locked in the crystal. Virikhad couldn’t do it. She gave Dandra another memory, of standing at Dah’mir’s side and watching Virikhad’s body starving and growing weaker as the spirit of his psicrystal faded-until there was nothing left and Dah’mir allowed the mind flayers their feast. And Tetkashtai … She laughed madly. We thought it was some hidden strength in her, but she was as weak as Virikhad!
Dandra shuddered with loathing. Medala gave a final thrust into her mind-and found Dandra’s fragile memories of the second journey from Zarash’ak to the Bonetree camp, the fragments of her distant sense of Tetkashtai’s efforts to take a new host. Dandra felt her excitement. “Dah’mir!” Medala said out loud-and slipped away from Dandra’s mind.
The chime faded from Dandra’s ears. Somewhere Medala was telling Dah’mir everything she had discovered, babbling about Dandra’s nature, about Tetkashtai’s ability to force herself on anyone who held the crystal, about Geth and orcs. Dandra didn’t listen. She just dragged herself up into a crouch and huddled back against the wall, trembling with rage at the violation of her mind.
Someone asked her a question, She didn’t answer. A foot prodded her. She didn’t move. The foot prodded harder. “Dandra,” said Dah’mir, “if you don’t want to talk to me, I can let Medala pry the answers I want from you again.”
Dandra turned her head and looked up. Acid-green eyes looked down at her. She glanced away sharply before she could lose herself in them. “What is it about you that we can’t resist?” she snarled angrily. “I’ve never felt anything like it. Neither had Tetkashtai. It’s not psionic. It’s not magic. What is it?”
“Why should I give away my secrets?” asked Dah’mir jovially. “Would you give away yours?”
“I don’t have any left!” Dandra hissed at him.
Dah’mir’s pale face stretched out as his eyebrows rose. “True enough.” He squatted down. Dandra felt as if he was staring right through her, as though there was something that his eerie eyes alone could see. “I didn’t expect something like you,” he said after a long moment.