Surfacing Ch. 20

And what about me? Was it only my lack of control that prevented me from tearing into others' memories and subverting the will? Would I be tempted to do so with further practice and control? Or was the price paid by a solitary mind be much higher than a collective, like the Illithids? Would I be required to fight against absorbing too many parts of other minds every time I forced a connection? Was that why Isboern forced no one?

Was this... was this what Tamuril had meant when she said that untrained psionics eventually go insane? They become a collective inside their own head? And they do not have an Elder Mind to guide them...

I shuddered.

"Shall we ask our questions, then?" Talov asked, keeping his voice low as the birds stayed loud and the Sun became hotter.

I looked at Gavin and Isboern each in turn and saw they had decided. I let out a breath and nodded as well. "Yes."

I was curious to see how Innathi responded to this change in the balance.

*****

Never had I formed a true mind link with another in the complete absence of pain or pleasure. I seemed to be gaining an ability to will a thought or two so that Mourn would hear me and I could hear him back but we'd bonded multiple times, swamped in potent magic and lust and even pain. For all I knew, it was more his blood than my change which allowed this.

All others ...Tamuril, Jael, Pig Eyes, Gavin, Brom, Rausery, Auslan, Kerse, that Illithid, Lana... all excepting the only true Varsa among us, Willven the Godblood...they had been when I was caught up either in intense sensation, emotion, or horrible pain. Or all of it.

Isboern didn't hurt or entice either of us; Gavin and I barely knew he was there. Once I could feel a cool touch of my ally's consciousness at the edge of my senses, it seemed so familiar by now I reached to take hold and bring it closer. Gavin.

I heard ghostly whispers when I wrapped my fingers around something that reminded me of Jacob's black soul shard. I had reached for a hand, I thought, but perhaps that would have been too direct.

Here. Here was a mind not nearly as complicated in motive as a Drow and this singular desire, combined with an understated devotion as fanatical as any Witch Hunter...somehow this quality made him progress down his path faster than any lover of intrigue like myself could keep up. Predictable and loyal, capable of contentment yet being driven always to work, to study, and still changing as fast as was needed. With no fear of death or beyond. Gavin was changed and yet the same as when I had first met him. I could...trust this.

Innathi might find him difficult to rattle, just as Mourn had said. I hoped so.

When Willven "stepped back," I wrapped Kurn's cum-cloth around the black and red hilt and drew Soul Drinker in my other hand without seeing anything around me, gripping hard and ready for that first moment of struggle as it tried to seize control. The dagger had fought hardest the first time, and again when it had wanted to change its carrier from me to Jael, but all other times, including now, the "fight" was more a formality. Of course it would test to see if I would give it control each time. All I had to do was slip in my concentration once. Just once.

*I will see the queen.*

*We've been waiting,* it answered cheekily.

I arrived halfway down the pyramid, steps disappearing into blue sand and black shadow below me, and more leading up toward the Stars in the clear night Sky. I wore my reds as before, and heard a different cadence in the shrieks and groans than I had with the cannibals just arrived, or when I'd passed the old, desiccated voices on my run across the sand to confront Innathi.

The fresh sounds spoke hints of Manalara, chanting and praying to a God who could no longer hear them. If there was one Ma'ab voice among them, I couldn't hear it.

*Clever...clever!* came several whispers surrounding me. *The fractured mind hosting and protecting another just so...! We may not seize you...you slip free like snakes.*

I disliked such an open admission being the first thought of this elsewhere. I didn't trust it. We would see.

I took a step upward but the black shard in my gloved hand became impossibly heavy, and I was forced to kneel down on the steps to catch my breath. I still held it, bent over with my knuckles against the grit; the shard wasn't touching the pyramid, nor was it crushing my fingers as if it had become dense far beyond the purest platinum. I simply could not lift it.

*Ohhh, no,* a voice chided, and I couldn't decide if it sounded more like Soul Drinker or Innathi. *No, he will show himself or you may attempt to leave with that anchor or leave it behind. The Grey Maiden may not observe us free of charge.*

Well, of course Innathi would be aware of every new mind to enter her domain.

I looked upward, keeping my focus off the shard trapping my hand against the stone. I held open my other hand behind me without looking, offering it for Gavin to take. It took several moments as whispers from bodies I could not see seemed to cluster in about us, as if they were trying to get a better look at someone of note.

"Who...?"

"Who is...?"

"Who is this...?"

I felt Gavin's cool hand firmly take hold of mine and I gripped him in return, drawing him forward onto the steps with me. The black shard dissolved in the same moment and I could get to my feet. Innathi's regal silhouette appeared at the top of the stairs.

"Good," she said. "Come up. I will see you."

She turned around and disappeared from view, and I finally turned my head to look at Gavin. He appeared as he did in the material world; he was even wearing his new, simply made, grey robes which I assumed the Guild had given him to replace those shredded in battle. He didn't change whether here or there. Not as I did. I wondered what significance that had, if any?

Gavin noticed my red uniform and it caused his brows to rise only a bit at first, but it did not take him long to accept what was self-evident: there was a reason we were called "Red Sisters." I was only glad that I wasn't wearing one of the slinky, white, silken dresses; that would be a bad sign for how much defense I felt I had with Innathi right now.

When the death mage said nothing but remained holding my red-gloved hand, likely out of necessity, I took the first step and Gavin followed on the way to the top.

"Why have you brought him, my chosen warrior?" Innathi asked without preamble, standing with a long whip gripped in her own gloved hand.

The ancient queen wore an outfit I'd never seen before. All her jewelry was gone, and she wore red as well—though a deeper crimson rather than my brighter scarlet. She had foregone her gown of leisure in favor of a formal blouse that covered her shoulders and arms, and strange, loose pants gathered up at mid-calf like one was tying off a sack; the loose ends of her pants down to her ankles were wrapped in strong, black bands which also closed off the top of her black boots as well. I had to admit the design would allow one to walk in sand without flea bites or allowing the grains to spill in from the top.

The apparel appeared to be a rougher, more sturdy version of silk as what I'd seen before, with gold embroidery following the scooped neckline of her blouse, following down the front in a path like a road following her breasts and belly, curving on her pants down from her hips and to the sides as well. There wasn't any fringe or decoration which would easily tear or break with any activity, and it was loose enough that I figured she could move quite well without restriction, even showing the least about of skin I'd seen yet.

She certainly held the whip with familiarity; I did not doubt she could use it. An excellent excuse to maintain distance from me.

"Do you know who he is, your grace?" I asked curiously.

She nodded once, curtly, her classic Drow eyes raking over the necromancer before returning to me. "Nyx's boy, as I said."

"Gavin," I replied then looked at the mage and continued, "Gavin, this is Innathi."

He thought to bow his head slowly, once and in acknowledgment, but he didn't speak just yet. His eyes not only studied everything about Innathi's appearance but also flowed around our surroundings. He saw the blue Moonlight and distant sands and mountainous shades on the horizon, just as I did, but...I wondered if there was anything else his "other" senses were picking up? If I could hear the low, droning undercurrent of lost souls here, what was it like for him?

The queen's scowl shifted into a menacing smile and she seemed in the same line of thought with me. "Can you hear them, young Walker?"

"Yes," he said bluntly.

"Are they like a maelstrom to you?"

"Not yet."

"Do you want to lead them back?"

"Not especially."

Innathi frowned again at that but in suspicion. "The first Deathwalker your world has seen in centuries, and you deny your function?"

"If I am indeed the first following an extinction long ago," Gavin said, "then who are you to say if my *duty* is as you remember?"

Once I might have been more concerned with any hostile male attitude toward a powerful female; my first impulse would be to warn him to better behavior, to not rock the boat, in fact would be helping to continue as things were. But with Innathi, as with her former husband, I thought Gavin drawing a line this early was probably a good thing. He didn't belong to this queen in any way, and if she still wanted my help, she'd best remember that.

That was why Mourn had suggested this, after all. Another voice outside of queenly, female expectation and pressure...to which I was vulnerable, thanks to my upbringing.

I smiled happily. "A good point, your grace. How *do* you remember their purpose?"

The desert queen flicked her eyes to me, then flicked her whip so the S-curve flowed down the length of the hard leather cord, perhaps in irritation or warning as she considered a response. Ultimately she chose to chuckle, drawing her whip closer and loosening the tension in her shoulders and joints.

She was still beautiful to behold as she took three slow, deliberate steps toward my necromancer. She caught his eyes and held them with a predator's appeal, daring him to challenge her further. As with me watching him intently in silence, Gavin was not accustomed to the pressure; he wanted to look down, Innathi and I both knew it, but he made immense effort to keep his chin up, even if perhaps he only gazed at the tip of her nose or between her eyebrows.

Innathi partly circled him on the far side from me and Gavin turned his head warily. She did not attempt to complete it, however; she still wasn't getting close to me by choice. She leaned to speak in Gavin's left ear, low enough for me to hear without effort.

"I remember mere servants, plodding their way across the sands, drying out to look like mummified corpses yet never succumbing to Musanlo's light even in his hottest of seasons. When next they crossed to the Greylands, somehow that always seemed to bring them back to some semblance of life, despite what one might expect. They were black as my own people when seen during the day in my realm, but quite white at night, brilliantly so if recently returned from guiding lost souls home."

Gavin and I were both distracted when other voices swelled up at this, as if the queen was taunting them and they wailed in misery at our backs. My ally was forced to step away from the Drow queen and closer to me when something invisible tugged at his robes. I stepped as well to give him more room, still holding his right hand to keep us grounded as he pulled free of the ghost.

Innathi looked much more satisfied now as she smiled at us and stepped back that distance. "A good reminder to bring to my attention, Sirana. This 'Gavin' is not one of many, is he? But rather the only one of his kind. I would love to know what is Nyx's purpose for him, but I wager he will not tell even you." She looked between us. "Speak your minds, then. Why are you here?"

She had been generous just now, asking nothing for that hint of times past, the question from when she still thought she could trade tasks and errands for information with me. Now, though, we had a new agreement, and maybe that had something to do with it. Maybe the information wasn't as valuable to her as she once thought it was.

"We seek audience with three recent souls within your realm," Gavin said.

"Three?" she echoed, one palm resting on her hip. "Which?"

"High Inquisitor Vene Kegyek," he answered, "and the only Ma'ab Hellhound killed by Soul Drinker."

"And?"

"Kurn," I said.

Innathi smiled and shook her head. "Oh, but don't you remember killing him last time, Sirana? You came raging in here and you stabbed him in the back. He's no longer available to you."

"Souls are not destroyed so easily," Gavin said with conviction, even when I wasn't sure what I had actually done to Kurn the last time he stood in my way. "They are far more malleable than mere flesh."

Intense, deeply red eyes swept to the Deathwalker, practically pinning him, and the expression that passed over Innathi's face gave me just the smallest twinge of fear at the base of my spine.

"Indeed, boy. I am the greatest proof of this, the most for which any demi-god could ask. Myself and Cris-ri-phon, as we each found a way to preserve our identities. Any weaker and we would not be here to guide you."

"It is not you who guides me," Gavin said, again looking at the tip of her nose.

Rather than argue this point, I stepped in with a wild stab of my own. My sole intent was to upset the locking of horns that would get us nowhere.

"You found a way? Did you stab yourself with Soul Drinker on purpose, Innathi?" I asked. "To exist here and remember who you were?"

The ancient queen went still for an instant before looking over to me. We met gazes, and I thought I heard something wail again in despair, just behind her. Just behind me. I saw more distress than I was used to on her face; it wasn't much, but combined with her beauty, it made an arresting image of depth, as if I could see time stretching back behind her.

"Perceptive, or a mere lucky guess?" she asked me quietly, almost seething.

Probably both. It seemed sort of evident.

I shrugged slightly. "You knew your dagger's properties the best of anyone. Cris told me you died in childbirth from what he found left behind, a claim you substantiated. You both know it was Ishuna behind it."

Innathi appeared to remember too much, too quickly; she whispered an oddly foreign curse and took a step back from Gavin, shifting to glower at him rather than meet my eyes any longer. "If it is Kurn to whom you'd speak with the other two, and if he has 'transformed' as he forgets in the Elsewhere who or what he was, just how would you expect to bring him back in any form to help your plans, Deathwalker?"

"Call on his lust one last time," Gavin said bluntly.

Innathi laughed so abruptly it was nearly a bray, but I took that moment to withdraw the semen-stained rag from my belt without the queen seeing the motion, though I made it plain to her as soon as she focused on me. Her smile dropped halfway and her eyes narrowed as she hummed in thought.

"We are here to request your help bringing those souls here, your grace," I said, "not to wrest control from you."

"As I recall, you did just that with Kurn, Sirana."

"But only because of this rag and my will, your grace. I possessed a stronger connection to him than you. I trust I cannot call *any* victim I claim with your dagger without your leave, is this so?"

Innathi paused and slowly began to coil up her whip. "Perhaps so. And how does this help our agreement, Sirana?"

"I am required to feed Soul Drinker until I can return to the City, correct? All Ma'ab remaining at Manalar are to be slaughtered before we leave it for good. I know you can help me with this task, and Soul Drinker would be joyful to do it. I do not know it will have many opportunities to gorge between now and then. Our task begins with the intelligence in the minds of those Men."

Innathi smirked at the obvious comment about the minds of Men, but did not make it. She stepped to the side and turned her back to us, looking out at the horizon. The rear of her costume was as ornate as the front in red, gold, and black, and she had tied off the bottom half of her long hair in a loose braid interwoven with gold thread. Gavin and I both had the feeling she was making us wait simply because she could and that she was testing us, daring us to make a move now as she was not watching, if that was our intent. We remained quiet, sharing just a glance.

"We might do this," she finally said. "First, I would trade, knowledge for knowledge, as you suggested before, Sirana."

"With me or with Gavin?"

Innathi looked over her shoulder and smiled in lovely amusement. "Both, as you are each here."

"And we can ask something in return? Each of us?"

"Yes. I believe our knowledge may even be related."

As in: the ancient queen was dangling Gavin's question from before in front of us. Another glance at Gavin, and he nodded as if he expected nothing else.

"In prelude to calling Kurn and the others immediately afterward," I restated.

"Yes, my warrior."

"Very well, your grace."

Innathi nodded and turned fully around, setting her coil on her belt as she faced us with a strong, penetrating gaze. "I would ask the Deathwalker where he sent my husband. I have seen the black vial and skeletal hand that latched on to him."

"A pity, that I cannot answer," Gavin replied. "Your question is malformed as I sent him nowhere. He set the destination for his portal before he stepped through."

"Cris-ri-phon implied V'Gedra," I interrupted, watching Innathi's response carefully. I half-expected her to explode at the "malformed" bit but again wasn't going to warn Gavin to more submissive male behavior while he represented the Grey Maiden.

Innathi pursed her lips tightly but nothing else; that only told me either she had guessed and displeased, or she was surprised and displeased. In fact, why would she ask such a poorly-worded question at all? Surely she knew better. Was it a slip or was that meant to reveal something true about Gavin in his response?

"We witnessed it before with the Cult of Mother, am I right?" Innathi continued. "At the very least, the substance inside the vial disrupts magic in its base essence."

"While it may be possible that the vial could disrupt the flow at some pivotal point," Gavin said, "it would still be impossible for me to answer the question. Such a method would give me no more control over where that portal led than to where a leaf I cast into a storm would land. That assumes that the destination was warped in transit at all."

One of his long-fingered hands waved as if to dismiss the assumption and his back much straighter than before as he spoke. He was using his height more when discussing magical theory, I noticed, if he wasn't sitting down. Much better than when he habitually slouched in front of Sarilis and Kurn, and as I knew, he was a good lecturer.

But why he would need to educate Innathi on anything magical at all...? I kept quiet to see her response.

"Surely you sensed when that vial broke," she continued, her posture and tone showing not the least bit of doubt...but also not the anger or insult I might have expected the way Gavin chose to field this question.

"To have my consciousness linked with my minion would have exposed me to a mental backlash and the crawler would certainly be the first thing undone. The crawler simply followed the directions I had given it."

"So my husband may have made it to V'Gedra? And you did not banish him somewhere else?"

"As I have said I do not know his destination nor would I have a hand in picking if that destination were changed, Innathi. I did not make that vial."