seen Akkarin use on Takan, so long ago.
Cutting his hand, Harikava dripped blood over the molten globule. It turned red and solidified. Taking off a thin band of gold from many that ringed his fingers, he molded it around the gem so that a tiny red glint was all that could be seen. She understood what this gem would do. Every sight, every sound, and every thought he had would be sensed by his master.
The man's eyes rose to meet Tavaka's. She felt an echo of the slave's fear and hope. The master beckoned and, with his bleeding hand, reached for his knife again.
The memory ended abruptly.
For a moment she considered what image to prompt the man with. On impulse, she sent a memory of Akkarin in black robes.
She was not prepared for the hatred and fear that filled the man's mind. Glimpses of a recent magical battle followed. Akkarin had found him before he could strengthen himself enough. Harikava would be disappointed and angry. Kariko would be too. An image of several men and women sitting in a circle around a fire appeared: a memory Tavaka did not want her to see. He forced it away with the skill of someone well practiced in hiding memories from searching minds. She realized she had forgotten to grasp for control of it.
She sent Tavaka an image of the circle of strangers as she remembered it. The faces were wrong, he thought. The face of Harikava appeared in his mind. Exerting her will, she 'caught' the memory and blocked his efforts to stop it.
She examined the faces carefully.
Names and faces followed, but one stood out.
She almost lost control of his memory at that. Akkarin had been a
Sonea's blood turned cold. This group of immensely strong black magicians intended to invade Kyralia!
Doubts entered the man's mind.
Abruptly a small white house appeared, accompanied by a terrible guilt. A plump woman - Tavaka's mother. A wiry father with leathery skin. A pretty girl with large eyes - his sister. His sister's body after Harikava came and—
It took all Sonea's control to resist fleeing the man's mind. She had heard and seen the aftermath of some cruel attacks by thugs while she had lived in the slums. Tavaka's family had died because of him. His parents might produce more gifted offspring. The sister might develop powers, too. The Ichani master did not want to cart the entire group around with him just in case, and he would not leave any potential sources of power around for his enemies to find and use.
Pity and fear warred within her. Tavaka had lived a dreadful life. Yet she also sensed his ambition. Given the opportunity, he would return to his homeland to become one of these monstrous Ichani.
Memories of a shabby bedroom in a bolhouse followed, then the crowded drinking room. Sitting in a place where he might briefly touch others, and search for magical potential. No sense in wasting time stalking a victim, unless he or she had strong latent magic. If he was careful, he would grow strong enough to defeat Akkarin. Then he would return to Sachaka, help Kariko gather the Ichani, and they would invade Kyralia.
A man was chosen and followed. A knife, a gift from Harikava, drawn and—
She felt Akkarin's hand tighten over hers. As he pulled it away from Tavaka's forehead, the man's mind slipped immediately from her own. She frowned at Akkarin as suspicions rose.
'Why did I do that?' He smiled grimly. 'You were about to learn what you don't wish to learn.' He rose and looked down at Tavaka. The man was breathing quickly.
'Leave us, Sonea.'
She stared at Akkarin. It was not hard to guess what he intended to do. She wanted to protest, and yet she knew that she would not stop him even if she could. To release Tavaka would be to set loose a killer. He would continue preying on Kyralians. With black magic.
She forced herself to turn away, open the door and step out of the room. The door swung shut behind her. Morren looked up, and his expression softened. He held out a mug.
Recognizing the sweet smell of bol, she accepted the mug and took several gulps. A warmth began to spread through her. When she had finished the drink, she handed the mug back to Morren.
'Better?'
She nodded.
The door clicked open behind her. She turned to face Akkarin. They regarded each other in silence. She thought of what he had revealed to her. The Ichani. Their plans to invade Kyralia. That he had been a slave... too elaborate to be a deception. Akkarin could not have arranged this.
'You have much to think about,' he said softly. 'Come. We will return to the Guild.' He stepped past her. 'Thank you, Morren. Dispose of him in the usual way.'
'Yes, my lord. Did you find out anything useful?'
'Perhaps,' Akkarin glanced back at Sonea. 'We shall see.'
'They're coming more often now, aren't they?' Morren asked.
Sonea caught the slightest hesitation in Akkarin's reply.
'Yes, but your employer is also locating them faster. Pass on my thanks, will you?'
The man nodded and handed Akkarin his lantern. 'I will.'
Akkarin opened the door and stepped through. As he started down the passage, Sonea followed, her mind still reeling from all that she had learned.
The sound of metal striking metal echoed down the passage, followed by a gasp of pain. Cery stopped and looked at Gol in alarm. The big man frowned.
Cery jerked his head at the doorway ahead. Taking a long, wicked-looking knife from his belt, Gol hurried forward. He reached the door and peered into the room. His frown disappeared.
He glanced at Cery and grinned. Relieved, and now more curious than concerned, Cery strode forward and looked inside.
Two figures were frozen in position, one crouched awkwardly with a knife held at his throat. Cery recognized the loser as Krinn, the assassin and skilled fighter he usually hired for more important assignments. Krinn's eyes flickered toward Cery. His expression changed from surprise to embarrassment.
'Yield?' Savara asked.
