Paul, no—
He heard a shout behind him; then something exploded against the back of his neck, knocking him forward onto his knees. He tried to get to his feet, but his muscles disobeyed. Something hit him again and he sank into nightmare oblivion.
He opened his eyes, squinted against the sun that was full in his,face. His arms hurt; he tried to move them—
We've been strapped to the wall.
Paul jerked at the voice, then froze as pain stabbed upward from his neck through his skull. Don't try to move, Doriand said. Everything will be all right.
Paul resisted an irrational urge to laugh. Five of the Sons of God had formed a line a few meters away, facing the wall. The boy with the slanting scar stood in the center. He met Dorland's eyes and held them. His face was expressionless. Paul strained against the bindings at wrists and ankles. He felt Dorland's muscles relax and almost sobbed with frustration.
Don't worry.
Time passed. The sun warmed his face. His
wrists throbbed, and he tried to ease the pressure by pushing down with his feet. The bindings cut into his ankles. Every muscle in his body began to cramp. The boys stood motionless in front of him. Paul didn't know how long he had been hanging there before he heard approaching footsteps. He looked up and saw Elder Jacowicz limping down the pathway, leaning on a wooden staff. His white robe swirled at his ankles. Paul felt tension grip him.
Jacowicz stepped through the line of boys and thrust his white face up close to Doriand. 'I knew you would come back.' His voice was sharp and high-pitched. 'You couldn't stay away.' Doriand locked eyes with Jacowicz. The other returned Dorland's stare in a measuring, predatory manner.
'Why did you have to kill Diana and Shari?' Doriand asked.
'Oh, I didn't really have to,' Jacowicz said.
'I suppose it was ordered by Lord Tern.' Jacowicz issued a short bark of nasal laughter.
'Hardly. Lord Tern gives his orders to High Elder Brill, not to me.'
William Greenleaf
'Whose orders do you obey. Elder Jacowicz?'
'My own.' Jacowicz used the tip of his staff to prod Dorland under the chin. 'We really need your cooperation, Dorland. Our children have become quite upset and it's all your fault. You'll have to talk to them and straighten it out.'
Dorland kept silent.
'The people of Fairhope are confused, and confusion often breeds violence. Many people will be killed if you don't help us. Do you want that on your conscience?'
'Some will surely die,' Dorland agreed. 'But if they rid Clarion of the Holy Order—'
Jacowicz pressed hard with the staff, and a bolt of pain lanced up through Dorland's jaw.
'All you have to do is talk to them,' Jacowicz snarled. 'High Elder Brill will call a service at the temple. You will tell the people the Godstone they saw was false. High Elder Brill will do some of his tricks, and all will be forgotten. It's all so simple!' Dorland's eyes shifted from Jacowicz's leering face to the young boys who stood behind him. The boy with the scarred face stared back.
Suddenly Paul was aware of another presence—
the link. Elli.
''(Acceptance)*
The feeling of warmth rushed over him—Elli's strength flowing out to him and Dorland. He felt another presence as well.
-(Youth/touch) kra'ith*
