“Keep making jokes and I’ll keep squeezing,” Lirra said.

Not the whip will keep squeezing, Vaddon noticed. But rather I will. A mere slip of the tongue, or was it a sign that Lirra was beginning to lose her individuality? Vaddon was mindful that Osten had hosted the tentacle whip for several days before the aberration had taken control of his body. Just because Lirra appeared to be in control at the moment didn’t mean she was going to stay that way.

“You humans have no sense of fun,” Sinnoch said, almost sounding as if he was pouting. “Very well. Elidyr designed the Overmantle so that a host might join with a symbiont and remain in complete control, but-if you were paying attention-you also know that the device clearly failed. And very spectacularly so, I might add. Instead of bolstering the host’s psychic defenses to resist a symbiont’s dominating influence, the chaos energy drawn from Xoriat made both host and symbiont stronger.” Sinnoch smiled. “That’s the problem with trying to control chaos, of course. The harder you try, the more you’re bound to fail. I tried to explain that to Elidyr on numerous occasions, but he’s human, and your kind can be so very stubborn.”

“That only explains part of it,” Lirra said. “Something else happened to Elidyr.” She leaned her face close to Sinnoch’s and bared her teeth, almost as if she were prepared to bite him if he didn’t answer to her satisfaction. Vaddon found the naked ferocity on his daughter’s face more disturbing than the eyeless visage of the dolgaunt. “Did you have anything to do with it?”

“I did not. Your uncle was blessed by the touch of a daelkyr lord. With that single touch, he reshaped Elidyr, made him into something more than human. Precisely what, I couldn’t tell you, but I’m sure he’s going to have fun finding out.”

Lirra glanced to the side and muttered, as if speaking to herself. Or maybe, Vaddon thought, a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach, speaking to her symbiont.

“That’s why he can host three aberrations and unleash blasts of chaos energy. I wonder what else he can do.” She looked down at where the tentacle whip joined to her forearm. “I wonder what we can do.”

We, Vaddon thought. She said we.

She turned back to Sinnoch and flexed her forearm. In response, the tentacle whip tightened its coils around the dolgaunt further, and the creature hissed in pain. One corner of Lirra’s mouth edged up in a half smile, and a dark look came into her eyes. Vaddon realized she was enjoying the dolgaunt’s discomfort, and the sight sickened him to the core.

“Stop it, Lirra!” Without thinking, he started to reach for her left arm, intending to pull her off Sinnoch, but he restrained himself. All he’d earn for his effort was another attack by the symbiont.

Lirra relaxed her forearm, and the tentacle whip loosened its coils, though it did not release Sinnoch. She then slowly turned to Vaddon and gave him a calculating look, as if she was reappraising him in some way. “This is a supreme irony, Father. You, defending an aberration. You hate the things more than anyone else in the Outguard.”

“I don’t care about the damned dolgaunt,” Vaddon snapped. “I care about you! Can’t you see what’s happening? That symbiont is poisoning your mind … filling your heart with fury, making you act irrationally … Let us help you, Lirra.”

“Your father’s right.”

Vaddon turned to see Ksana standing by his side, halberd held in a tight grip. He glanced over his shoulder to see Osten was sitting up. The lad looked dazed, but the wound on his throat had vanished, and his color looked good. Rhedyn had managed to get to his feet, but the soldier made no move toward Lirra. He just stood watching the drama play out before him, as if he was unsure how he could best help.

Ksana continued. “We can help you separate from the symbiont. It won’t be an easy process, you know that, for you’ve witnessed it before, and in your case I fear it will be even more difficult if what Sinnoch says is true about the symbiont having been strengthened by the Overmantle’s energies. The creature will not let go of you easily, I’ll warrant. But you’re a fighter, my child, born and bred, and with Dol Arrah to lend me strength, I will do everything in my power to make certain you are free of that abomination.”

“Neither of you understand,” Lirra said. “The Overmantle may not have functioned as Elidyr had hoped, but it did achieve its ultimate aim. It produced a weapon-me. You said yourself that you were unconscious when Elidyr changed, Father. You didn’t see what he’s become. He’s incredibly powerful and absolutely insane. If there’s any hope of stopping him, it lies with me-and my symbiont. After I’ve dealt with Elidyr-”

Vaddon interrupted. “Listen to yourself. Dealt with him? What do you plan to do? Kill your own uncle? Don’t delude yourself into thinking you can control your symbiont, Lirra. If there’s anything this whole misbegotten project has taught us, it’s that creatures of chaos cannot be controlled.”

“I don’t plan to control it, Father. I plan to use it.” She smiled grimly. “There’s a difference.”

Vaddon knew then that reason wasn’t going to work on Lirra. How could it, when she obviously wasn’t in her right mind?

“Lirra, I am your father, but I’m also your commanding officer. I order you to release the dolgaunt and surrender yourself into my custody. Immediately.”

Lirra looked at Vaddon for a long moment, her expression unreadable. When she finally spoke, her tone was calm, almost casual.

“I have never disobeyed an order from a superior, Father. Unfortunately, after today, I’ll never be able to say that again.”

She spun around and hurled Sinnoch toward Vaddon and Ksana. The tentacle whip uncoiled, releasing the dolgaunt so swiftly that neither the general nor the cleric had time to move out the way. The creature slammed into them hard, and all three of them fell to the chamber floor.

Ksana was back on her feet before Vaddon, whose armor slowed him down, and the half-elf helped him to his feet. But it was too late. Lirra was gone.

CHAPTER NINE

Ranja had been watching Bergerron’s hunting lodge for three stultifying days when something interesting finally happened. The shifter had taken up a perch in an oak tree that provided an excellent view of the lodge, but which also had thick enough foliage to keep any of the soldiers stationed there from spotting her when they patrolled the area. Her mottled green clothing helped camouflage her, though given how obviously thickheaded the soldiers were, she doubted they’d have seen her if the tree was completely bereft of leaves and she was lounging naked among the bare branches. But that was Karrns for you. Steel in their spines, icewater in their veins, and fire in their hearts, but not a whole lot going on upstairs.

It was late morning on the fourth day of Ranja’s vigil when a man came strolling out of the lodge’s entrance, whistling gaily as if he were looking forward to a pleasant stroll. Except this man had three symbionts fused to his body. Ranja had worked as a mercenary since she was young-mostly doing scouting and spywork, though she’d fought if the money was right-and during her career she’d seen any number of strange if not downright bizarre sights that if nothing else made for good storytelling over a pint of ale or three. But she’d never seen anything quite like this before. She’d seen symbionts bonded to hosts before, sure, but not three! Within moments the man had disappeared into the surrounding forest. Ranja was tempted to follow him simply to satisfy her curiosity, but her employer’s instructions had been quite clear.

“I want to know what’s going on in Bergerron’s lodge, and I want to know now. Don’t even think about coming back until you find out.”

Arnora Raskogr was a haughty bitch, but she paid well, and that was what mattered most to Ranja. So while she might find out the true nature of the secret work going on in the lodge by following the amazing three-symbiont man, she might also miss out on some important development here if she left her observation post. Besides, as a shifter, her senses were keener than a human’s, and symbionts offended her on a primal level. Simply put, the damned things were just wrong, and she couldn’t stand being around them-and that man had three of them fused to his body. How could he even survive with that many

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