Lady Ruin

bunk during the Outguard’s time there.

Chief among those comforts was the great room. Men and women sat in chairs or reclined on couches, talking and laughing while sharing after-dinner ale or playing a game of Conqueror. Over in a far corner of the room, a soldier with a bit of musical talent-a very small bit, judging by his playing-strummed a lute and led a merry group in song. Despite the would-be musician’s meager skills, his friends received his playing with happy enthusiasm, clapping along in time to the tune.

Tonight Lirra had come in search of one soldier in particular, and she spotted him resting on a couch by the fireplace. She walked over to Osten and sat in the empty chair next to him. The others in the great room grew quiet and looked in their direction, more than a little curious. A quick glance from Lirra reminded them to mind their own business, and they resumed their conversations and merrymaking, though perhaps at a softer volume than before.

“Hello, Osten,” she said.

He lay propped up on the couch, a blanket over his legs drawn up to his waist, two pillows supporting his back. He stared into the fire, its flickering orange-yellow light reflected in his brown eyes. At first he didn’t react. She was about to repeat the greeting when he finally spoke.

“Hello, Captain.” His voice was soft, the tone almost completely devoid of emotion. Lirra didn’t like the sound of it.

“Ksana tells me you’re going to make a full recovery,” she said.

“I’m sorry I let you down today, Captain. Sorry that I …” He paused, swallowed, and when he resumed his voice held an undercurrent of sorrow. “That I hurt you.”

“Don’t worry about it. I took far rougher hits than anything you can dish out when my father first taught me how to handle a sword.”

Osten’s lips formed a small smile, but he didn’t take his gaze from the flames. “Knowing the general, I can believe it.” His smile vanished then. He took in a deep breath, let it out. “It’s a lot harder than I thought.”

“What is?”

“Bonding with a symbiont. Your uncle tried to prepare me, as did Ksana. I practiced the meditation techniques the cleric taught me, ran their advice over and over in my mind. And when the day arrived, I thought I was ready.”

A bitter chuckle escaped his lips. “I was a fool. Nothing can prepare for you for the reality of the experience. Even before the symbiont latches on to you and pierces your flesh, you can feel it beginning to assault your mind. There’s a … a pressure, as if phantom hands have gripped your skull and are squeezing it. And then there’s a whispering in your ears. No, deeper than that. Inside your mind. Words spoken in a soft, sly voice-words that always seem just on the verge of being understandable, but no matter how closely you listen, you can’t make them out. It’s maddening. And then, when the symbiont actually bonds with your flesh …”

He trailed off and shuddered from head to toe. After a moment, he continued speaking, his voice so soft she could barely hear it over the gentle pop and crackle of the fire.

“The whispering in your mind becomes shouting loud as thunder, but you still can’t understand what’s being said. The ghost hands gripping your head squeeze so tight you feel your skull will shatter and collapse inward like a rotten melon. Your blood seems to boil in your veins, and if you could, you’d grab a dagger and slice open your wrists to drain the molten fire out of you, but you can’t move. You can’t even draw in a breath. The symbiont is on the verge of claiming your body as its own and you have to fight, and fight hard, or be lost. It was a near thing for me, Captain, my fight to retain control of my own body, and to be honest, I feared I would lose. But in the end I won. Or at least, I thought I had.”

Osten tore his gaze from the fire and turned to her with a look of haunted desperation in his eyes.

“They’re intelligent. And if they don’t manage to gain control of your body when you first bond, they bide their time and wait for another opportunity. See, they never stop trying to take you over. Never! The voice quiets after a time, the pressure lessens, and the fire in your blood cools somewhat, but the sensations are always there. Sometimes worse than others, but you’re never free of them. It … it wears you down. I thought I was strong. I grew up on a dairy farm not far from Geirrid, the youngest of seven children. Not only did I work hard at my chores, I had to be tough to hold my own against my brothers and sisters when we played, and we played rough. When it came time for me to serve in the military, I chose to apply to the garrison at Geirrid. It was close to home, and my parents were getting older and …”

His gaze went blank and he frowned, as if he were in danger of losing his line of thinking.

“You joined the garrison,” Lirra prompted.

His gaze sharpened once more and he continued. “Anyway, my point is that I believed myself strong in both body and mind. I thought I could do anything, endure anything, to serve Karrnath. But I was wrong. I was overconfident today. I was determined to do well, to justify your faith in selecting me to receive a symbiont, Captain. And when I saw that the general himself was going to observe my test, I was doubly determined to acquit myself with honor. I was so concerned with impressing you both that I forgot about my symbiont, just for an instant. But that’s all it took. If it had managed to kill you …”

“But I didn’t die, Osten, and Ksana was able to heal the injuries I sustained. And while I’m sure the process wasn’t pleasant for you, we were able to remove the symbiont. You’re free now. And while the test may not have turned out the way you’d have wished, remember this: You resisted the symbiont’s influence longer than most could have. You should be proud of yourself.” But even as she said this, she wondered if she would feel proud if their roles had been reversed. Probably not, she decided.

“You’re wrong, Captain.” He turned his head so that he could gaze upon the fire once more. “About my being free, I mean. The symbiont is no longer attached to my body, and it’s sealed up tight back in its cage. But I can still hear its whispering in my mind. I think perhaps I always will.”

Lirra had to suppress a shudder at Osten’s words. “Give it time. The whispering will fade.”

“Perhaps.” But Osten didn’t sound as if he believed it. He changed the subject then. “Most of the others have been keeping their distance from me, but a few have come over to talk. They told me that Lord Bergerron has ordered the Outguard to cease our experiments and vacate the lodge. They also told me that your uncle has managed to convince the general to allow one last experiment to prove to Bergerron that our program has merit and should be allowed to continue. Are these things true?”

“More or less. The general has given the order for us to begin packing up our equipment in preparation for leaving. He wants us to be out of here before sunset tomorrow. My uncle has proposed a final experiment-one that he’s been preparing for the last several weeks-but the general is still considering the matter and hasn’t given his permission yet.”

“But Elidyr prepares nevertheless,” Osten said. It wasn’t a question.

“Yes. Just in case.”

“Do you think your father will approve the experiment?”

“I don’t know. I hope so.” She was of two minds about the matter. On the one hand, she’d devoted months of her life to this project-as had everyone else in the Outguard-and she wanted it to be a success. But on the other hand, she thought of what Ksana had said earlier in Vaddon’s den, about how symbionts could never be controlled, certainly not reliably. Rhedyn may have succeeded, but he was the only success out of dozens of attempts. She was beginning to believe that the cleric was right, and the project had been a fool’s dream from the start. Still, if there was a chance to salvage even a modest success from all their failures, she believed they should at least make the attempt.

“What sort of experiment?” Osten asked.

“Elidyr believes he has a way to artificially nullify a symbiont’s ability to dominate its host. He’d hoped to have a few more weeks to work out the details before attempting the process, but he’s almost finished with the construction of the apparatus needed for the experiment, and he believes he’ll be ready to test it by tomorrow morning or afternoon at the latest.” At least, that’s what her uncle had promised Vaddon. She wondered if he’d be able to deliver on such short notice. Then again, Elidyr was a brilliant man. If anyone could accomplish the task, he could.

Neither of them spoke for several moments after that, and Osten appeared to be deep in thought. Finally, he said, “So if Elidyr gets the chance to test this new process tomorrow, he will need volunteers to help him.”

Lirra understood where Osten was going with this, and she didn’t like it.

“I know what you’re getting at, and while I can sympathize with you wanting to make another attempt at