And the more he hurt her, the more she yearned for him, burned for him, until the pain and desire mingled and became one obscene whole.
She groveled and wept, and did not know whether she wept because of her shame or because of her need.
Finally he released her, and she lay where he left her, panting and spent, but still afire with longing for him.
"Enough," he said, mildly, softly. "You will learn more. I will call YOU again, when my other business has been attended to, and you will tell me what you have learned. You will try to ensnare Darkwind, if you can, but you will learn more of the gryphons."
"Yes," she whispered.
"You will return here to me when I call you."
"Yes," she sobbed.
"You will remember that my reach is long. I can punish you even in the heart of the k'sheyna Vale if I choose. Starblade has put my stamp on their Heartstone, and I can reach within at my will." His eyes glittered, and he licked his lips, slowly, deliberately.
"Yes.
"Do not think to truly escape me. I created you, flesh of my flesh, my dearest daughter, and I can destroy you as easily as I created you." He reached down and ran a talon along her chin, lifting her eyes to meet his, and in spite of herself, she thrilled to his touch.
She said nothing; she only looked helplessly into his eyes, his glittering, cold, cruel eyes.
Should you try to hide, should you reach k'sheyna Vale I will call you even from there. And when you come to me, you will find that what you have enjoyed at my hands will be paradise, compared to what I deal you then." He held her in the ice of his gaze. "You do understand, don't you, my dear daughter?" She wept, silent tears running down her cheeks, and making the mage-light above his head waver and dance-but she answered him. Oh, yes, she answered him.
"Yes, Father.
"And what else?" he asked, as he always asked. "What does my daughter have to tell her doting father?" And she answered, as she always answered.
I-I-I-love you, Father. I love you, Father. I love and serve only you." And her tears poured down her cheeks as she repeated it until he was satisfied.
*Chapter Fourteen ELSPETH
Kata'shin'a'in was a city of tents.
At least that was the way it looked to Elspeth as she and Skif approached it. They had watched it grow in the distance, and she had wondered at first what it was that was so very odd about it; it looked wrong somehow, as if something about it was so wildly different from any other city she had ever seen, that her mind would not accept it.
Then she realized what it was that bothered her; the colors. The city was nothing but a mass of tiny, brightly-colored dots. She could not imagine what could be causing that effect-was every roof in the city painted a different color? And why would anyone do something as odd as that? Why paint roofs at all? What was the point?
As they neared, the dots resolved themselves into flat conical shapes which again seemed very strange.
Brightly colored, conical roofs? What kind of odd building would have a conical roof?
Then she realized: they weren't buildings at all, those were tents she was looking at. Hundreds, perhaps thousands, of tents.
Now she understood why Quenten had said that Kata'shin'a'in "dried up and blew away" in the winter. Somewhere amidst all that colored canvas there must be a core city, with solid buildings, and presumably inns and caravansaries.
But most of the city was made up of the tents of merchants, and when trading season was over, the merchants departed, leaving behind nothing at all.
She glanced over at Skif, who was eyeing the city with a frown.
"What's the matter?" she asked.
"Just how are we ever going to find the Tale'sedrin in there?" he grumbled. "Look at that! There's no kind of organization at all-"
"That we can see," she interrupted. "Believe me, there's organization in there, and once we find an inn, we'll find someone to explain it to us.
If there wasn't any way of organizing things, no one would ever get any business done, they'd be spending all their time running around trying to find each other. And when in your entire life have you ever known a successful disorganized trader?" His frown faded. "You have a point," he admitted.
"I don't like this," complained Gwena.
"I am perfectly well aware that you don't like this," Elspeth replied crisply.
"I think this is a mistake. A major mistake. It's still not too late to turn back." Elspeth did not reply, prompting Gwena to continue. "If you turned around now, we could be in Lythecare in-" Elspeth's patience finally snapped, and so did the temper she had been holding carefully in check. "Dammit, I told you I won't be ~ into doing something, like I was the gods' own sheep! I don't believe in Fate or Destiny, and I'm not going to let you lot move me around your own private chessboard! I will do this my way, or I won't do it at all, and you and everyone else can just find yourself another Questing Hero! Do you understand me?" Her only answer was a deep, throaty chuckle, and that was absolutely the final insult. She was perfectly ready to jump out of the saddle and walk to Kata'shin'a'in at that point.
"And. Don't. Laugh. At. Me!" she snarled, biting off each mental word and framing them as single words, instead of an entire thought, so that her anger and her meaning couldn't possibly be misunderstood.
Absolute mental silence; then Gwena replied-timidly, as Elspeth had never heard her speak in her life with her Companion, "But I wasn't laughing." Her temper cooled immediately. She blinked.
It hadn't really sounded like Gwena. And she'd never known a Companion to lie. So if it wasn't Gwena who was it?" she asked. "If it wasn't you, who was it?"
"I-: Gwena replied hesitatingly, lagging back a little as Skif rode on ahead, blithely oblivious to what was going on behind him. "I-don't know." A chill crept down Elspeth's spine; she and Gwena immediately snapped up their defensive shields, and from behind their protection, she Searched all around her for someone who could have been eavesdropping on them. It wasn't Skif; that much she knew for certain. The mind-voice had a feminine quality to it that could not have been counterfeited.
And it wasn't Cymry, Skif's Companion; other Companions had only spoken to her once, the night of Talia's rescue. She could not believe that if any of them did so again that it would be for something so petty as to laugh at her. that was as unlikely as a Companion lying.
And besides, if it had been Cymry, Gwena would have recognized her mind-voice and said something.
Kata'shin'a'in stood on relatively treeless ground, in the midst of rolling plains. While there were others within Mindhearing distance-there were caravans both in front of and behind them-there was no one near.
Certainly not near enough to have provoked the feeling of intimacy that chuckle had.
In fact, it was incredibly quiet, except for the little buzz of ordinary folk's thoughts, like the drone of insects in a field.
The chill spread from her spine to the pit of her stomach, and she involuntarily clutched her hand on the hilt of her sword.