Part 20 (1/2)

Ahira was different, though. He was just pus.h.i.+ng to get them home. Just the rest of us, James Michael Finnegan. And who do you think you're fooling? The dwarf had never said so, but anyone could see that he was just along to get the rest of them through the Gate; once that was done, Ahira would turn and run. You don't really expect any of us to believe that you're going back to being a cripple, do you? Not when he could be healthy and strong here.

She nodded in admiration. Not for the first time. A sense of responsibility, that's what Ahira had. Ahira felt guilty about the rest of them being here. No, not guilt; she was right the first time. Responsible, that was it.

She turned back. Karl was still looking at her out of the corner of his eye, pretending to be ignoring her. Maybe that was for the best, at least for the time being.

At least, that's what I keep telling myself.

He got up from his seat on a stack of blankets and walked over. ”Enough games, Andy. We've got to talk.”

She jerked her chin at the plain. ”Then let's move away a bit. No need to wake the others.”

He smiled thinly as he followed her. ”I wasn't planning on yelling and screaming. Were you?”

She shook her head. ”Not really. I think this is far enough. Do you want to sit down?”

He snickered. ”I'd better be sitting for this? Okay.” They sat tailor-fas.h.i.+on on the cracked ground, Karl balancing his sword across his lap.

”Do you have to have that with you? I don't think anyone's going to steal it, out in the middle of nowhere.”

He shrugged, and pulled the blade a few inches from the scabbard, ”it's a fine piece of steel, isn't it?” Silvery metal gleamed wickedly in the starlight. ”And I've got this habit of losing things. I guess I'm afraid that if I ever let it out of my hands, that'll be the end of it.” He slipped the blade back. ”But you're changing the subject. Deliberately?”

”I'm not sure. Do I have to be?”

”No. I don't make the rules. Sometimes I don't even know what they are.”

She bit her lower lip. ”As in what the rules for you and me are.”

He nodded, looking her square in the eyes. ”Exactly. If I didn't know better I'd swear you're trying to get me to hate you, or at least dislike you one h.e.l.l of a lot. And I'd kind of like to know why that's a stupid idea of mine.” He shrugged. ”I am stupid sometimes. Ignorant, too. I have it on good authority.”

”Doria?”

”Not quite.” He folded his fingers behind his head and stretched back. ”I have bad breath or something?”

There was a lot different about Karl now, beyond the physical changes. We could have had almost exactly this conversation a few months ago, and Karl would have been trembling inside that I'd turn him down. He isn't anymore.

”Did anyone ever tell you you're always too G.o.ddam intense about everything?” The violence of her own words surprised her. ”About whatever you happen to be majoring in at the moment, about whatever diversion you're into, abouta””

”About you?” He chuckled thinly. ”Is this going to be another episode of Slovotsky's Laws?”

”What?”

Karl shook his head, his eyes closed tightly. ”One of Walter's ideas about life. It runs something like: 'Whatever you want too much, you can't have, so when you really want something, try to want it a little less.' Is that what this is all about?”

”No. It's not that. It's just that I'm not sure I'm ready for all that intensity about me.” She reached out to take his hand; he pulled it back. ”Can you understand that? It's not that I don't like you, it's not that I'm not attracted to youa””

”Now, that is.” He raised an arm and flexed his biceps. ”What with the new, improved body, and all.” Karl lowered his arm. ”Which is one thing I'm going to be sorry to give up, once we get back.”

”You're going to be sorry to get back?”

”Don't be silly,” he sneered. ”I like the good things in life. Bathing regularly, television, dentistry, not having a price on my head. Stuff like that. And you're changing the subject again. Which suggests that once we get back, and I'm short, skinny Karl Cullinane againa””

”Shut up.” Sometimes he made her so mad. ”It isn't that at all. Women aren't as shallow as men.”

”Thank you, Betty Friedan.”

”It's just that you're incapable of keeping things... casual. No, that's not the word. What I'm trying to say isa””

Fear touched the back of her neck. Ignoring her natural reflexes, she closed her eyes. Her aura wrapped her thinly; it was easy to see Aristobulus' glowing strongly, a few hundred feet away, blazing in the night like a red beacon.

But there was something else, too. Not quite distinct enough to see with her inner vision, but there. ”Karl.” She opened her eyes. He was shaking his head, as though to wake up, his eyelids sagging shut, despite himself.

”Andy, Ia”” He slumped over.

Invisible fingers wrapped themselves around her throat, cutting off her air. She tried to pry them away, but they were like steel bands.

”Don't let go of her, Ohlmin,” a harsh voice whispered. ”Not until she's safely gagged.”

”And then,” another voice answered, ”we can enjoy ourselves.”

She opened her mouth to scream, but a cottony softness filled it. A rough hand clutched at her b.r.e.a.s.t.s. She struggled uselessly.

”I want this one first. There's still a lot of fight left in her.”

Karl awoke slowly. And that bothered him, even in his half-awake, just-a-few-more-minutes-please state. He brought his hand down to wipe at his eyes.

His hand stopped short; his wrist was tangled up with something cold and hard.

Wait a minute! I was just talking to Andya”I never woke Walter. His eyes snapped open. ”What the h.e.l.la””

A small fist came out of nowhere and struck him on the cheekbone. Pain lanced through his skull. He brought his hands down in a practiceda”

a”his wrists jerked in their iron cuffs, fastened in heavy chains to something over his head and behind him.

”I told you that n.o.body ever beats me,” Ohlmin rasped. ”Ever.”

Karl shook his head, trying to clear it. Slowly, his eyes focused, becoming accustomed to the gloom. Hakim and Ahira sat beside him on the narrow bench of the small room, both still unconscious, both chained at wrists and ankles.

And in front of him, leaning over him close enough so that Karl could smell the reek of garlic and wine on his breath, Ohlmin stood, smirking.

”Sleep spells are handy things, no?” He slapped Karl lightly on the cheek. ”Even if the wizards are resistant to them.” Ohlmin smiled. ”But spells of invisibility can fool their eyes, too.”

”What are youa”” A boot drove into his belly; Karl gasped for air.

”You speak when you are spoken to. Understood?” Ohlmin's voice was calm now, and somehow that was more frightening than his earlier rasp. ”But I won't hurt you very much, Karl Cullinane. I've got to save you for Pandathaway, You're going to make me a rich man.”

Karl tried to spit at him, but couldn't muster the breath to do it. Or the saliva, for that matter. His mouth was as dry as the Waste.

Stop reacting for a moment, and think. He fingered the chains. Slight ridges along the links proclaimed that they were cast iron, not forged. And that was good, possibly. If he had enough strength, if he had enough leverage, he could shatter them. Maybe. Cast iron was more brittle than forged. Just maybe...

His Barak-self didn't think much of that idea. They're far too thick. But the wall behind you is wood. You may just be able to jerk them loose from the wall.