Free razorsedge by Lisanne Norman Page A

he opened his mouth to scream, flames gushed out. Mercifully, his senses left him.

     
    * * *
     
    He woke to find himself lying on the floor wrapped in a damp robe. The lamp flame began to flicker as he pushed himself upright. Groggily he peered at it. The oil reservoir was nearly empty. He must have been asleep for several hours. Stiffly he got to his feet, wincing as his groin muscles complained. Too tired to be concerned, he blew out the meditation lamp and limped over to the bedside to activate the light. Stripping off his robe, he hung it over a chair to dry. With a shiver, he pulled back the covers and climbed into bed, passing his hand over the sensor to douse the light. Almost instantly, he was asleep.

     
    * * *
     
    Morning brought a vague feeling of disquiet and uncertainty. His meditation the night before had resulted only in half a night's sleep on the floor and the stiff and sore muscles that accompanied it.

Getting out of bed, he dropped down onto all four limbs. It would be easier and less painful to ease his muscles this way. Arching his back upward, he stretched his spine first, all the way down to the tip of his tail. Then he leaned backward till his forearms touched the floor, straightening his spine and flexing the large muscles in his shoulders and neck, easing the kinks in his upper back. Standing up again, he extended first his left, then his right leg behind him. Before he reached full stretch, though, the tenderness in his groin made itself felt once more.

Rearing upright, he gently pressed the inner surfaces of both thighs: definitely tender, which was both surprising and worrying as he'd not been with a female since the night he'd spent with Jaisa in the Margins. Even if he'd had company the night before, for those muscles to be painful was not normal.

Something had caused it, but what? Using the skills Kusac had been teaching him, he searched his memory, finding nothing to give him even a clue as to what had happened the night before. He remembered meditating, then nothing until he'd wakened cold and damp in the early hours of the morning. He shivered, knowing it had nothing to do with the chill air. Resolutely he put it from his mind. Whatever the cause, a hot bath would help ease the aching muscles.

     
    * * *
     
    A note from Ghyan inviting him to join him for first meal was waiting when he returned. Inevitably the conversation centered round Vartra and the Fire Margins.

"Matters have gone beyond the point where we can discuss them on a personal basis, Ghyan. You'll have to wait till Lijou briefs you himself."

"What can you tell me, then?" Ghyan asked in exasperation. "Tell me about the person!"

Again the shiver as wisps of memory seemed to drift briefly through his mind. They were gone before he could pursue them. "He's like us— subject to the same fears and self-doubt." Yesterday he could have said more, now he felt unsure, as if the person he'd met in the past had retreated within the legend. The whole topic disturbed him deeply.

He got to his feet. "I have to go, Ghyan. Thank you for your hospitality, but I've things I must do before the Validation ceremony starts."

He returned to his room, changing back into his ordinary clothes. Looking at the discarded robe, he reached for it, and folding it, placed it in the small bag he'd brought. The gap in his memory troubled him, as had the faint voices the day before. Was his mind becoming unstable? Was it, despite what Carrie said, due to his newly awakened Talent? His blood ran cold at the thought. To be rogue, with an unstable Talent! He had to go to Stronghold. He was a danger to himself and everyone, especially her and the cub.

     
    * * *
     
    The afternoon sun had warmed the air, and Carrie found she wasn't as cold as she'd feared. The Validation ceremony, because of its unique nature in their case, was being taken by Father Lijou himself at the Valsgarth Estate. Her attention, though she stood facing the Head Priest, wasn't