Crystal Dragon (5 page)

The first time, he had withheld himself, resisting even her strongest demand. Rebellion had been costly, however, as she controlled his access to the means of renewing his essence.

The second time, he had not been able to withhold entirely, and a few wisps of smoke drifted weakly from the grate. This, too, had cost him a tithe of strength, so that she was certain of obedience when she drew him the third time.

Too certain, and more fool she, to suppose that his only weapon was resistance.

She focused again upon the grate—and abruptly there
was
power—far too much for the narrow channel she had formed. More than enough to incinerate her envelope, the grate, and Rool Tiazan himself, unless it were controlled, immediately.

For herself and the grate, she had no concern. Rool Tiazan was a different matter, being both bound to the vessel and denied the ability to rejuvenate it at need. If Rool Tiazan burned, not only his vessel, but his whole essence would be destroyed beyond recall.

She opened herself, dropped all of her shielding, and accepted the fireball. There was a brief, dismissible flare of agony as she phased and released the energy harmlessly into the second plane.

From this vantage, Rool Tiazan was a densely structured pattern of deep and cunning color. As she watched, the pink shine of the autonomous system flared—then faded as the vessel began to die. The scintillant essence spread, overflowing the vessel in rippling wings of energy. The core coalesced, as if the
zaliata
would phase to the second plane—and froze, anchored by the biologics to the failing vessel.

She acted then, and shamefully; not from cool calculation but from base emotion.

Brutishly, with neither finesse nor subtlety, she thrust her will through the glorious colors, feinted past the wary intelligence, and seized control of the autonomous system. She slapped the failing vessel into life, spun the bindings, and rode the tumult of the
zaliata's
energies, forcing it, dominating it, until it collapsed under the double burdens of her will and his body's demands.

In a flare of rage nearly as searing as the fireball that had consumed her envelope, she threw Rool Tiazan to his knees, constricted his lungs, his heart, multiplying the pain until at last it breached the cool green fortress of his thought and he writhed in her grip, gasping for breath, desperately seeking to ease her hold about his vessel's core, the tendrils of his power plucking uselessly at her will.

She held him until she judged he had assimilated the lesson, then threw him against the tile wall and withdrew herself.

The ashes of her envelope were still warm. She resurrected it and stepped within, scarcely noticing the small bite of pain. Carefully, she smoothed her robe, put her anger aside, and turned.

Rool Tiazan lay on the floor at the base of the wall against which she had flung him. Blood ran freely from his nose, his ears, his mouth. His eyes were closed.

Behold me on the physical plane
, she commanded.

His eyes opened, blue, fierce, and unrepentant.

I am your dominant
, she told him, her thought cold and controlled.
You will obey me
.

Nothing, saving the fierce blue stare. She inclined her head.

I accept your submission
, she stated, as if he had actually extended it.
Stand
.

He obeyed, though it cost him, for beyond the bruises, there were broken bones and injuries to soft organs which she did not choose just yet to repair. It was well, she judged, that he learned something of pain, and to value its absence. She waited, allowing him to feel the weight of her patience, as he staggered to his feet, the fingers of his unbroken hand clawing the smooth tile wall for support.

When he was erect, she opened the channel for the fourth time and drew his power.

The channel warmed slightly as a spark danced from him to her, touched the grate and flared into soft blue flame.

Explain your action
.

Painfully, he raised his head and met her eyes.
Did you not command me to light the grate?
His thought was green ice.
Lady.

Fortunately for Rool Tiazan her fury had departed, else she might have struck him again, to his sorrow. Instead, she merely smoothed her robe and questioned him more specifically.

You know that you are inescapably bound to the body. What did you seek to gain by your late escapade?

Freedom
. Cold enough to freeze the aether between them, with a depth she could not identify, and yet still mistrusted.

I thought
, she sent carefully,
that you did not wish to be destroyed. Mark me, if your body dies unrevived, you will be destroyed.

His eyes closed against his will, and he sagged suddenly against the wall, shivering.

I thought to... survive
—his sending was ragged, as the body's damage began to breach his defenses.
To survive... diminished.
His thought fragmented; she caught an impression of a free
zaliata
, quite small and very compact, dancing joyous between the stars—and then nothing but green and silver static.

So. He had been willing to abandon some amount of his essence—his power—in order to escape his binding. A desperate plan, indeed.

You would not have survived
, she sent, more gently than she had intended.
The body will not yield you.

Silver and green static was her only answer. Against the stained tile wall, he shivered the harder, lips blue, tears mixing with the blood on his face, as the body's distress overwhelmed his essence.

She went to him, and took his undamaged hand in hers.

Come,
she said, easing him to the floor.
I will repair your hurts and give you data to study while you sleep.

HEALED AND CLEANED and held peaceful by her will, Rool Tiazan slept, his curls tumbled in pleasing disarray across the blanket she had allowed him.

She—she did not sleep, but withdrew to her core, there to meditate upon her actions and her motivations.

Emotion motivated base creatures and was one of the myriad means by which such creatures were subject to manipulation. So taught the philosophy instructor, who had with the biology instructor early set her cohort to studying the effects of emotion upon base biologic systems. The point made, the philosophy tutor had then drilled them in the domination of the emotions which were the legacy of their biologic origin.

Ultimately, you aspire to dominate base creatures of a high order
, she had told them.
How will you accomplish this, if you cannot dominate that which is base within yourselves?

Indeed, the dominion of emotion was deemed so vital to performing the will of the Iloheen that the First Doom had been constructed to test that skill. Those of her cohort who had yielded—to terror, to joy, to despair—those had not emerged from the testing.

That she
had
emerged from not only the First, but from all Three Dooms proved that she was worthy to pursue the work of the Iloheen as the dominant of a full
dramliza
unit.

And, yet—a dominant who allowed terror for her submissive's life to predicate her action? What was she to make of such a creature? Cool consideration, now that the event was past, indicated that allowing Rool Tiazan to destroy himself was the course of reason.

For herself... Reason told her that a dominant who could not assert her dominion, who had lost the Iloheen the use of one of the precious
zaliata
—so flawed a being was unworthy of carrying out the great work, no matter how many Dooms she had evaded.

And it was fear that she felt, there at her core, as she contemplated her own destruction. Contrary to her training, she did not vanquish it, but drew it close and examined it.

Seen thus, it was a thing of many facets; a dark jewel turning beneath the weight of her regard.

One facet was that fear awakened in a base creature at the imminence of its own death. Another facet—and greater—was fear of Rool Tiazan's destruction.

The very emotion which had motivated her interference in his attempted escape.

The very emotion which had fueled her rage after she had made him safe, and prompted her to punish him more stringently than his error had warranted.

She paused to study that last, detecting shame at her use of force. Yet, it had been no error, but a deliberate attempt to distract her so that he might escape her domination. Surely such rebellion merited punishment, stern and deliberate?

And yet again—he had been no mere
tumzaliat
, bred in captivity, but a free
zaliata
, proud and willful. He had acted as his emotions had dictated, as base creatures must. As his dominant, it was her part to—

Noise disturbed her thought; loud and ill-shaped, it grew progressively more annoying until, abruptly, a Shadow fell across her perception. Immediately, she quit her core, returned fully to her envelope, rose onto bare feet and bowed.

Edonai.

There was no return greeting, but a shock of pain as a data module was forced into her consciousness, displaying a dizzying view of the greater aetherium, the
zaliata
at their dancing. The image narrowed until it had isolated one particular creature: Not so large as some, but densely structured, the pattern of its emanations controlled, its colors deep and cunning, resonating through every spectrum she was able to sense, and surely well beyond.

As she watched, the
zaliata
danced, faster, and faster still. The ley lines flared briefly; undisturbed, the dancers continued to gyrate, but were not quite able to disguise the fact that one of their number was—gone.

Fear whispered; she dominated it and dared to ask a question.

When?

Rouse your submissive
, the Iloheen ordered

A second question stirred; she suppressed it and hid the shadow of the act in the bustle of waking Rool Tiazan.

Roughly, she stripped the blanket away and vanquished it.

Rool Tiazan
, she sent, sharp enough to cut—and perhaps to warn.
We are commanded
.

He gained such consciousness as the vessel permitted, came to his feet with alacrity and bowed, his hair swirling in the ice-thickened air.

Remove your influence,
came the command.
I would examine it of itself alone.

Fear licked at her core; a tiny flame, easily extinguished. Slowly, carefully, she withdrew her protections. Rool Tiazan felt her slip away from him, and straightened, eyes wide, the pulse fluttering at the base of his throat. She turned her face aside and withdrew as she had been commanded, but not before she had seen the ice forming on his smooth, naked dermis.

From the vantage of the second plane, she beheld the Shadow, stretching above and below until it vanished from her puny understanding. Opposing—near engulfed by—it was a faint stain of muddy light, scarce strong enough to penetrate the loftier planes.

Fear flared; she thrust it aside and bent all her perceptions to the Shadow, striving to see through it, seeking her submissive, the rippling fires of his essence—and realized with a shock that the muddy emittance was he.

Reveal yourself!

The thunder of the command all but shredded her control; how Rool Tiazan maintained his deception in the brunt of it was more than she could comprehend.

The muddy fires constricted, as if in fear, and flared sluggishly.

There beneath the Shadow, she dared to form a thought deep within her secret heart, trusting that he would hear her.

If you are too small
, she whispered,
you will be found unworthy.

The Shadow grew dense, and the command came again. She clung to her control, focused—saw a flare of pure golden light pierce the loftier aether, and another, very nearly the blue of his eyes.

A third time, the Iloheen commanded. The muddy essence deformed, as if its strength were failing.

Once again, she acted where cold reason would have counseled her to wait.

Edonai
.

The Shadow withdrew a segment of its attention from Rool Tiazan and placed it upon her. She abased herself.

Speak
.

Edonai, should this submissive be destroyed, I will be unable to pursue the great work until another vessel has been formed, another tumzaliat downloaded and trained.
Her thought was steady and cool; her protections down.

It is a poor tool
, the Iloheen responded.
Perhaps you are worthy of better.

Edonai, it is well enough. You come at the conclusion of a match of wills. We are both of us exhausted.

A wing of dark satisfaction crossed her perception—and the Shadow coalesced, enveloping her, cutting off her perceptions. Fear was a spear of flame through her core. She rode it down, gathered what poor senses that were left to her tight, and endured while the Shadow constricted further and the sense of satisfaction grew, filling all the planes on which she existed, freezing her thought, shredding her essence, annihilating ...

Somewhere beyond the limitless frozen dark, her fragmented senses registered a flare of light. One single ray pierced the Shadow, growing brighter, broader, spilling ripples of golds and blues.

Around her—within her—the Iloheen laughed, and it was terrible.

It displays merit.
The cold voice stated.
You may proceed.

The Shadow was gone; her senses returned in a flare of agony and she fell into the physical plane so suddenly her body convulsed and she screamed against the air.

She fought the body's systems like a novice, felt the muscles knot—and then loosen as warmth flowed through her. Panting, she re-established control, opened her eyes and beheld Rool Tiazan on his knees beside her; his hands flat against her breast.

How
? she sent to him.

The fierce eyes met hers boldly.

There are myriad hows. Choose.

How have the Iloheen missed you only now
? But as soon as she formed the thought, she knew.