Shades of Gray (61 page)

“Are you sure it’s real? From what Kaid and Carrie say to me, it would seem that you are acting out of character, especially with the prisoners,” said Conner. “I realize that the basis of this is that you’ll not ask anyone to do what you aren’t prepared to do yourself, but . . .”

“I’m doing it too well, forgetting who I am,” he said. “I know how to make them talk because of what I went through with one of their Inquisitors.”

He got to his feet and began to pace in front of Conner, hands resting on the butt of his pistol and the pommel of his knife. “What you don’t know is that I feel driven to behave that way. I feel as if I’m not in command of myself at those times.”

“In what way?” asked Conner, clasping his hands on his lap. “Who are you if not yourself?”

“I’m still me, I don’t mean I’m someone else.” He stopped for a moment in front of Conner. “It’s as though my will is being sapped. I don’t notice it at the time, only afterward, maybe as much as several hours later.”

Conner nodded but said nothing.

“There’s more,” Kusac said, pulling the bronze ornament from a belt pocket and holding it out to the priest.

“It’s beautifully made,” said Conner. “A norrta, I think they call it. You and one of your team killed one, didn’t you?”

“Yes, but I made that, Conner.”

“You made it?” Conner raised his eyebrows in surprise. He took it back, holding it in his hand and thinking another shape into the metal before handing it to him again.

“Good gracious,” said Conner after a long moment’s silence. “It’s me, and it’s still warm.”

“Only the first altered telepaths were able to do anything like this,” he said, retrieving it and putting it away. “I lost my Talent completely. Then Annuur and Kzizysus performed that operation on me, giving it back. I can do things no one else can, Conner, and I don’t know how or why. It scares me.”

“Sit down,” said Conner. “Let’s look at this rationally, shall we?”

“I’ve tried, but all I get are questions and no answers.” He sat down again, on the edge of the seat this time.

“You say you keep forgetting what you’ve discovered about this threat to you—it is only to you, isn’t it?”

“Not just me. It affects Zayshul too.” He racked his mind for more details. “She said something about Kezule having odd racial memories that no one else has. She forgets things too,” he added.

“When did all this start?”

“On Kij’ik.”

Overhead, the lights flickered briefly. As Kusac looked up, a gust of cold wind from outside swept through the temple, making the candles on the altar flicker.

“Like that,” he said slowly, memories stirring. “The lights flicker like that, and we forget what we were saying—except when it suddenly gets cold.” He started thinking of the times he and Zayshul had talked about this and felt a sudden chill in the air. “Only then don’t we forget.”

He locked eyes with Conner, seeing his own unease echoed on the other’s face. There was one name in both their thoughts that for different reasons they didn’t want to speak out loud.

Conner broke the silence. “This feeling you’re being controlled, because that’s what it amounts to, have you felt it at any other time?”

“Yes, when I was running to try to save King Zsurtul’s life. It was a compulsion to stay away, almost like a voice in my head.”

“Hmm.”

“I’m not going insane,” he snapped out in exasperation.

“Of course you aren’t,” said Conner with a smile. “No insane person would come to me and ask for my help.”

“You’ll say nothing of this to anyone else?”

“Nothing,” Conner agreed readily. “This is between you and me. However, I would like to talk to Zayshul and get her perspective on this.”

He nodded. “Best take a recording device with you,” he said dryly, “lest you also get hit by the amnesia we seem to be suffering.”

“That’s actually a good idea. Looking at the other issue, your enhanced abilities, what you’re able to do is not unknown to me. On Earth, there were even those who could change their form, like the legends of the Selkies. In the sea they resembled seals, but on dry land, they cast off their sealskins, hiding them from prying eyes, and became Human. They could live in their Human shape for many years, until the call of the sea became too strong and they had to return to it.”

“Folktales,” said Kusac as Carrie’s memory of it surfaced.

“Indeed, but hidden in folktales is often a grain of truth. With great ability comes the need for great control, Kusac,” said Conner. “We’re in a time of troubles and conflict. Who knows how your abilities will be able to help us, but I’m sure you’ve gained them for a purpose.”

“Have I? Or are they some aberration caused by the way my Talent was restored?”

“You can obviously do this changing at will,” said Conner. “And you not only stopped King Zsurtul from dying but actually repaired damaged organs, I was told.”

“I don’t have much memory of what I did, to be honest. I just did what was needed.”

“Precisely. Imagine the abilities you have in the hands of a less scrupulous person. Think of the harm such a one could wreak. Having such a gift can be dangerous because the temptation to use it inappropriately will always be there. Set boundaries for yourself; never use it in anger or to destroy. Use it only in extreme circumstances, or you’ll find that using it becomes like a drug you cannot do without. Remember, there is always a cost to be paid for using mental abilities.”

“I learned that as a cub,” he said. “Healing Zsurtul drained me for several days. Changing inanimate objects has made me ravenously hungry.”

“Sometimes the cost is not so obvious,” said Conner gently. “You have a position of responsibility here and back on Shola. You must never forget that you owe them your best. Their honor is your honor. Never act hastily or lash out in anger, despite the temptation.”

Kusac laughed mirthlessly. “Ask Banner to tell you about Dzaou sometime. I gave him so much rope he almost killed me with it because I wouldn’t act hastily. I had to be seen to be fair, even though he was an undermining influence every day we were on Kij’ik.”

“That is what someone in a position of power should do. Not put himself and his own wishes first, but look instead to the members of the community.”

“That’s easily said, Conner. But I left it almost too late to deal with Dzaou. I was just out of my sickbed after my leg wound, and he almost killed me.”

“And if you had acted earlier?”

He sighed. “I was afraid Kezule would see it as my failure. But strong leadership isn’t knocking down those who disagree with you.”

“No, it isn’t. It’s teamwork. It’s delegating and, if not following the advice of those people when they give it, at least considering it seriously.”

“You’re talking about that vision of yours again,” said Kusac, trying to keep the exasperation out of his voice. “Do you know what we have right now in orbit around here? We’ve three massive warships, Kij’ik with its cannon, plus numerous other destroyer class ships! I swear not even a fly could sneak past us!”

“That’s reassuring, but how vigilant are those watching scanners for incoming traffic? Do they know we might be victims of a sudden strike?”

“I don’t know. That’s Kezule’s area not mine.”

“Then talk to him, tell him to listen,” said Conner.

“We know how active the Entities are in our lives, Conner, Kezule doesn’t. How do I convince him that the visions of an ancient Earth man are true predictions of what will happen?” This time, his exasperation was loud and clear.

Conner leaned forward and rested his index finger on Kusac’s forehead. “I will show you,” he said.

He looked up, gasping in shock at what he saw. High above them, it hung in the air, looking like the kind of bauble peasants would hang on the prayer tree for their chosen deity. Moonlight shimmered and glinted off it, making it appear almost ghostly, a thing of less substance than presence. A spindle end projected from its top and hung below it. Between them, a platform hung in nothingness, banded by four slim struts that formed the outline of a globe.

A flash to one side of it drew his attention. It was followed by a streak of light, then another, and finally by a flare so bright that even when he blinked, he still saw it.

Movement from the platform—a cloud of tiny lights, like fireflies, leaving, swarming toward where he’d seen the explosion, caught his eye.

“Our defenses aren’t strong enough yet,” said a voice at his elbow that he almost recognized. “If only we’d had some warning.”

He spun around to face the man, but his face was hidden in the shadows of the clock tower.

“I don’t understand,” he stammered, glancing back at the beautiful monstrosity in the sky.

“There aren’t enough ships berthed at the platform. The attacks came too soon for us.” A low snarl underlaid the voice.

A flare of light, like a bolt of lightning, hissed and crackled through the air, impacting on the central building of the Palace behind him. Stone blocks exploded violently, sending red-hot shards high into the night sky to rain down on the courtyard. Over it all, a high-pitched whine and the smell of burning filled the air.

Transfixed, he experienced the vision right to the end, when Conner finally sat back. “Now do you understand?”

“Yes,” said Kusac, hoarsely, shocked not only by what he’d experienced but that Conner could send to him like that.

“Show Kezule this. You have the ability. Do not be afraid to use it. As I’ve told you tonight, knowing when to use your gifts is the sign of a good leader. There’s more you need to know.”

“What now?” he asked. “Isn’t this enough?”

“It’s only the beginning, I fear,” said Conner regretfully. “I’ve been told by Ghyakulla that you’re a kind of fulcrum in this war. Much of what you do will affect the outcome.”

Kusac began to protest, but Conner raised his hand to cut him short. “Listen to me!” he said, using the voice command that Kusac knew well and instantly obeyed. “Saving Prince Zsurtul’s life was one incident. Think what would have happened had he died. There will be more, Kusac, and you will have to meet them all with your entire senses alert. Not everything will be as it seems; you’ll need to search beneath the obvious for the clues. I have a feeling this threat you feel is a part of it.”

“How?”

“If I could answer that, I would be wise indeed,” said Conner. “Call it intuition. Everything is part of a web drawing the key elements and people to the center for the resolution. Look at where you sit now. Would you have guessed that you would be the right hand of King Zsurtul and Kezule a year ago?”

“Of course not!”

“A story for you, one from Llew’s past, since his vision is so much a part of our future here.”

“A story? How can a story help me? I came to you for help and advice, not a lecture on leadership and stories.”

“You will see where it all fits in one day. And perhaps I shouldn’t have called it a story, because it was a true happening. It happened when I—Llew—was not at the Court of the High King. They’d quarreled, over a woman, the one Arthur chose to wed. Llew foresaw problems, but his student was in love, so he wed her. Gwenhwyfer was her name, and she had a sister as like her as a twin, called Gwenhwfach. Where Gwenhwyfer was gentle and kind, her sister was made of sterner stuff and was jealous of her position as Queen. She felt someone as devoid of ambition as Gwenhwyfer didn’t deserve to be the wife of the High King. If she were Queen, ah, it would all be so different! She’d urge Arthur on to greater and nobler deeds. Enough of this round table with each lord equal to the next! She’d convince the High King it was his destiny to own those lands for himself by conquest, not depend on the good will of his nobles. She, unlike her sister, was like us, with abilities beyond those of the ordinary folk. She’d studied what books she could find, delving deep into the darker arts for her solution.”

Conner’s voice had a singsong quality to it, drawing Kusac deep into the tale despite himself.

“She found a spell that would switch their personalities so she would inhabit Gwenhwyfer’s body, and Gwenhwyfer hers. The spell was successful, and being a canny lass, Gwenhwfach was careful to act as docile as her sister, at least at the start. Of course, Gwenhwyfer, on waking up in her sister’s body, ran at once to the Court to tell the King. He, knowing of Gwenhwfach’s jealousy, refused to listen to her. Day after day, for a month or more, poor Gwenhwyfer in her sister’s body tried to tell her husband what had happened. Eventually he was forced to have her taken out to the gates of Camelot and banished.”

“Couldn’t he tell his own wife?” asked Kusac.

“Apparently not, and Gwenhwfach was careful not to show her true colors for many months. Meanwhile, Gwenhwyfer had found shelter in the home of a certain knight of Arthur’s Court, Lancelot by name. He was the only one who believed her story.”

“How long did the deception last? Did she get her husband back—and her own body, in the end?”

“It took a year, but eventually Arthur realized that his sweet gentle wife had become a nagging harpy, always trying to create conflict between him and his knights.”

Conner stopped and stared off into space, as if remembering the actual events.

“So what happened?”

“Lancelot found Llew and told him what had happened, begging him to return to the Court and settle the matter. He did and was met by a relieved King who asked him to find out where Gwenhwfach was because his true wife was trapped inside her body. Llew told Arthur to call all the Court together, and he would settle the matter. When they were all gathered, Lancelot brought Gwenhwyfer in. Of course, the false wife began demanded her evil sister be thrown out, that banishment was obviously too good for her, and she should be executed for treason.”

“She showed her true nature then,” said Kusac.

“Yes. She showed she was selfish, had no love for her sister, and would stop at nothing, even her sister’s death, to get her own way. Llew reversed the spell, and Gwenhwyfer, restored at last to her own body, fell weeping to her knees. Arthur, full of apologies, raised her to her feet and banished her sister from the lands of Greater Britain. Orders were sent to every town and village that no one was to give her aid or succor. She was escorted to the Channel and put on a ship, and that was the last that was seen of her.”