old legends and tales, there was much, much more.” Gripping his hands behind his back, he strolled over to stand before the hearth, his eyes on the meager flames. “All the old manuscripts talk of the unparalleled power wielded by the latteh in the hands of the ‘true adept’—power to kill, power to heal, power to build.”
Slipping one hand into his pocket, he drew the oddly cut crystal out and held it up in the palm of his hand. “But that knowledge was literally thrown away by rattle-headed thinkers who thought they could decide what was best for everyone.” His fingers caressed the dull-green facets. “It would take more than a lifetime to rediscover all that by trial and error. But there is another way; you can go back and find it for me.”
Her heart settled into a steadier rhythm. Although he didn’t know it, he was giving her a way out; once she had entered the timelines, he couldn’t follow her. No male could enter the timelines without an enormous boost of outside power, and even then it endangered the fabric of reality. She would pretend to agree, then escape him in the temporal pathways, exiting somewhere else, or even some-when else, and he would be able to do nothing to prevent it.
“Where—where do you want me to go?” she asked, concentrating fiercely on her shields.
“Not where so much as when .” He gripped the latteh tightly in his fist. “You will have to go back into the time of the Ivram Despots or even earlier. I don’t care as long as I get what I need. And if it’s true I can’t go with you myself—” a grim half smile twisted his mouth, “I’ll send Axia in my place.”
Haemas leaned her head back against the wall. “But she’s not trained.”
“That’s your problem, isn’t it?” Chee looked down and smoothed the black fabric of his long loosely fitted pants.
Again Haemas tried to think, hoping her strained shields could keep him out of her mind. How Talented could Axia be, anyway? Perhaps she could just leave her behind, too, as soon as Chee gave her access to the ilsera crystals.
He crossed his arms. “I wouldn’t be so sure of that.”
A sliver of ice formed between her lungs and her heart. “I have friends who will look for me.” She closed her eyes. “You won’t get away with this.”
He laughed a brittle, hard-edged laugh. “But, Lady, I have already gotten away with it.” Placing a hand on either side of her, he leaned over the cot and stared into her eyes. “And if any of these so-called friends of yours should happen to get the least bit close to the truth, or if you refuse me the timeways, I will kill every one of them, starting with the fat old meddler, Enissa Saxbury, and that tiresome dreamer, Kevisson Monmart.”
* * *
The gathering ilseri clustered around the violated pool, their anguish so palpable it was as if another, darker sister had joined them to mourn. Starlight winked down through the leafless trees as Summerstone hovered above the grove, counting the new arrivals. She was more worried than she wanted the rest to know. So few had come back from the southern seas, and this was so very important! Did they not understand? What the ilseri decided now could alter the future in unforeseen ways. Every full-grown sister was needed to examine the nexus for possible courses of action before they decided which course to take.
Windsign drifted into the grouping, and Summerstone reached for her mindpresence with a profound sense of relief. They had known each other for so long that she trusted this sister’s judgment more than any other ilseri of similar experience.
Windsign responded with a mental caress, then increased her density and let gravity tug her down to the forest floor as she gazed into the pool. I thought they had forgotten.
Summerstone joined her. We must call Moonspeaker and learn what she knows of this matter. Perhaps she can—
No! A young, clear mind voice rang through their midst. She is one of them! The speaker