Artemis Invaded

Driven by increasing dread, Adara toiled up the final slope before the drop into the vale of Maiden’s Tear. She had chosen this route because, although it was more arduous, it cut days off their journey. Even so, the return up the mountain had taken longer than she liked. The sense of urgency that had pressed at her from the moment she had learned about the fresh footprints in the Sanctum had grown more intense with each passing hour.

Something of Adara’s urgency had transferred to Sand Shadow as well. When they reached the final stretch, the puma raced ahead, only to find the campsite deserted, every bit of equipment cleared away. An attempt had been made to conceal that anyone had camped there. The job was not the expert one either Bruin or Terrell could have managed, but Sand Shadow found no trace of alien scents among the mingled odors. That made it unlikely their friends had been arrested for trespassing in a prohibited area.

Did they all move inside Leto’s facility for some reason? The weather hasn’t been too bad. Why hide traces so carefully?

Adara was turning possibilities over in her mind, when she and Sand Shadow became aware that someone was moving toward them through the surrounding forest. The newcomer stepped quietly, but he came with the prevailing breeze at his back, announcing himself to the puma.

“Kipper!” Adara called softly, as soon as Sand Shadow had identified him. “What happened?”

“Follow me,” the boy replied, his voice hardly louder than a breeze. “Away from here.”

Without question, they did. Kipper led them across several brooks and over bare stone to hide their tracks. At last they came to a sheltered grove hidden within a stand of long-needled pines. A small, nearly smokeless fire burned in a stone-lined hollow. Above it the smallest cookpot was suspended on a tripod.

Kipper crouched next to the fire. When puma and huntress entered his camp, he poured hot water over leaves and set tea to steep. Then he refilled the cookpot and set more water to heat.

“I have food,” he said, his voice low, though Adara had detected nothing larger than a raven in the vicinity. “You’ve got to be hungry. Eat. I’ll tell you what happened.”

Adara accepted what the boy offered. In her shock, she had all but forgotten how for the last hour or so of her climb she had been anticipating just such a hot meal. Sand Shadow sent her an image of a bear, gave Kipper a rough stroke of her tongue, and padded out into the evening gloom.

Kipper did, the words spilling over each other. Adara listened to his unfolding tale without comment, knowing that the slightest interruption could push the boy to tears.

“Griffin might have been very happy to see his brothers,” Kipper said, after explaining how they’d found the Dane brothers in the hallway. “The rest of us were just shocked, especially with the Old One there. When Bruin confronted the Old One, he motioned me back. I hung out of sight around the corner, where I could hear but not see. Then the one called Alexander spoke some words…”

Kipper stopped and shivered. “Those words made me feel strange, as if I’d been wrapped in a blanket and couldn’t move. Then I heard Alexander ordering the other three to obey his commands.”

“No. Not Griffin—Ring—though Alexander didn’t have a name for Ring. Then Alexander said something about Griffin not having done his research right or something. After that, Griffin got nasty. I didn’t know he could get so mad. There was a lot of arguing. Somewhere in there, I felt like the blanket had loosened. I got out of there. Bruin had warned me back. I didn’t think anything that had happened would have changed his mind. Still…”

“You did right,” Adara said, knowing that the boy was worried she would think him a coward, “to get away. If you hadn’t, who would have told me what happened?”

“Honeychild stayed out here when Bruin went into Leto’s complex,” Kipper said. “I can’t talk to her, so I’m not sure how much she knows. She’s the one, though, who told me to clear away our camp. She started rolling up the blankets, pulling out the tent pegs.”

Adara forced a smile. “Honeychild doesn’t have hands like Sand Shadow, but she’s learned to do a lot with her paws. I’ve watched her help Bruin break camp before.”

“I caught on pretty fast,” Kipper said. “I went and got the pack horse to help me. I’d noticed this camping spot before, when I was out foraging. Me and Honeychild shifted the horses to a more distant pasture. Sam the Mule decided to come along. Honeychild has been checking on them regularly.”

“Good that you cleared out,” Adara said. “Now, even if anyone comes looking for our camp, they’re going to have trouble finding it. Julyan might, but would he go to that much trouble to find you? If Griffin’s brothers are anything like Griffin, they’re going to be so fascinated by that facility they’ll forget anyone else exists.”

“And they’ll know,” Kipper said, “that you and me won’t go for help. We can’t, not without admitting we’ve been poking around a restricted area.”

“You thought of getting help, then,” Adara said, “and had the sense not to. Good man. From what I gathered when I visited my family, events in Spirit Bay have shaken people up badly. The folk in Crystalaire might have locked you up for the loremasters to judge, rather than helping.”

Adara gave Kipper a quick summary of what she’d learned from her family, concluding, “I thought that the footprints in the Sanctum had been left by the Old One and some of his followers. I did wonder if they might be connected to whatever hit down in the bay, but I certainly didn’t consider that it might be Griffin’s brothers. He’d been certain years would pass before anyone came looking for him.”

“Terrell said something like that, too,” Kipper said. “And when they were arguing, Griffin got angry, said his brothers hadn’t come to help him. That they were trying to steal his glory.”

“It didn’t,” Kipper said. “That’s why I figure I had to get out of there. If people started taking sides and Ring couldn’t use his weapons … I haven’t spent as much time in Leto’s complex as the others, but enough that I figured those Dane seegnur had to have nastier weapons than our knives and bows. They might not kill Griffin, but they might show him they meant business by hurting someone else.”

“You are quick,” Adara said approvingly. “Have you had a chance to scout? Can we still get into Leto’s complex?”

Kipper hung his head and looked ashamed. “I haven’t. I was…” Adara expected him to make excuses about how busy he’d been, but the boy was honest. “I was scared. I didn’t want to get caught. I figured I would be pretty useless to them, except to make Bruin do what they wanted.”

Adara reached out and hugged him. “You’re far from useless. I’ll let dinner settle, then I’ll do some scouting. There are four of us now. I can’t talk to Honeychild any better than you can, but Sand Shadow can relay to her. That means even if I get caught, you’ll know.”

She saw Kipper stiffen. “I don’t plan on getting caught, but we’ve got to plan for that. Now, Bruin and I have worked out some simple signs that our demiurges can use to relay information. They aren’t much use in this situation—mostly meant for hunting—but let me show you them. That way, if Honeychild starts writing in the dirt with her claw you’ll know what she’s about.”

Afterwards, Julyan was astonished at how quickly the situation changed from what had looked like a family reunion to him pacing a corridor along which three widely separated rooms had been converted into cells. He had no idea what the argument had been about since, soon after Alexander had said those seven syllables and Griffin had exploded into white fury, the Danes had shifted to their own language.

“Keep alert,” the Old One warned him when they had a moment alone. “We know that Griffin Dane has resources we didn’t anticipate last time he was our ‘guest.’”

One of those resources was the mysterious girl-woman who called herself “Leto.” Alexander had explained that this Leto was only a more elaborate version of the recording that had warned them about the intruder security systems, but Julyan wasn’t buying that without more evidence. True, he hadn’t seen her, only heard her, but from what he’d heard she had sounded like a real person, and one with a temper.

He’d been able to understand what Leto said, because apparently she didn’t speak the Danes’ language. As best as Julyan could gather, Leto had been created to serve the seegnur who used this complex. However, she still wasn’t certain if the Dane brothers qualified as seegnur. She’d been on the way to accepting Griffin, but now she was uncertain again.

Alexander had apparently presented the best argument in favor when he demonstrated his ability to control the residents of Artemis. Julyan had served as his example of this and hadn’t enjoyed it at all. He’d cooperated, though, because he didn’t want Julyan to know about that little bit of wiggle room he’d created for himself. For now, he was more on the side of Alexander and the Old One than he was of Griffin, so cooperating was all for the best.

Leto, however, had gathered that Alexander was Griffin’s full brother. This meant that anything that proved Alexander was seegnur also served to prove that Griffin was seegnur. Therefore, it was a case of which seegnur would dominate. That was one reason that Griffin was currently residing in one of the three rooms Julyan guarded. However, that had not been enough to convince Leto that the other Dane brothers were now in charge. Apparently, she had been scared by the slaughter of the seegnur and death of machines. In Leto’s view, might did not automatically make right.

In fact, Julyan thought, if they’re not careful, Leto may decide that “might” means they’re in the wrong. She may decide these newer Danes are just like the invaders who attacked her former masters. If she does that, I’d better make sure I know how to get out of here. She sounds like a brat, and I don’t want to be at the mercy of a brat who controls the lights and the locks on the doors.

Leto’s control was why, even though Falkner had locked the rooms in which Griffin, Terrell, and Ring were imprisoned, Julyan patrolled the corridors with a newly issued nerve burner in his hand. Even though the nerve burners were the least lethal of the weapons the Danes had brought with them, Falkner warned Julyan that they could be deadly enough.

“I’ve got it set so that it’ll knock someone out, not kill them,” he said, “but that’s only an estimate. Ring and Bruin carry a lot more weight than Terrell and Griffin. Then, too, a person’s health plays a role, too. If someone has a weak heart, say, a charge that would knock out someone else of the same weight might kill him. I suggest you shoot only if you must and aim for a limb.”

Another reason they were taking extra care was that Bruin had admitted that one of his students, a boy named Kipper, remained at large—as was Adara the Huntress, her demiurge, Sand Shadow, and Bruin’s demiurge, Honeychild. The Dane brothers were inclined to dismiss a puma and a bear as players, but neither Julyan nor the Old One would make that mistake.

The Danes are pretty smart. They’re not hunting down this Kipper because they know he’ll inform Adara. The Old One has them convinced that she’ll rush to the rescue. They want to bag her, and this Kipper’s news is the bait.

He licked his lips and paced restlessly along the corridor. Alexander had reassured Julyan that he had not forgotten his promise.

Soon … Soon … I’ll have you again, my willful lady. We’ll show you where you fit into the scheme of things. I’ll make sure you know your place …

Griffin tried to regret the things he’d said to his brothers. Surely if he’d been more prudent, more diplomatic, he wouldn’t be locked up in this little room with nothing but sessions cleaning the spaveks to break the monotony. He tried to regret, but he couldn’t—he was too damn pissed. When he was honest with himself, he had to admit that he was embarrassed as well. He thought he’d covered all traces of his research so carefully, given no indication of his plans. For his brothers to arrive within a few months of his departure must mean that his intentions had been discovered almost immediately.

Or worse, he thought, sinking down on the cot that was one of the room’s few furnishings, they knew all along and simply waited for me to get here and do the initial research, take the initial risks.

A terrible suspicion grew to certainty in Griffin’s mind. The warbot that attacked back at Shepherd’s Call … It wasn’t some relic of the old wars. It was planted, probably built right into my shuttle. My crash is what damaged it.

He surged to his feet, started pacing again. If that’s the case, then it would explain a lot—like how they found me, but why they didn’t show up sooner. Maybe they had suspicions I’d located Artemis but no certainty as to where it was. They would’ve had to wait for beacons to lead them here. The Howard Carter might have been “bugged” as well. If I were them, I’d also have made sure the spider would release some antiviral nanobots into Artemis’s system, so they could use their gear once they got here. Was the warbot also meant to kill me? That doesn’t make sense. Maybe it was sufficiently damaged by my crash that it malfunctioned—a tracking program got out of control or something.

The spider’s attack left Griffin uneasy. His brothers could be ruthless, but surely they wouldn’t want to kill him.

I’m going to need to get my brothers talking … learn what they’re after, how much they suspected in advance. I certainly had no suspicion that Artemis was anything but the resort of legend. Would a resort interest Siegfried? Maybe, if he thought he would find relics from the final conflict here that he could turn to new uses. That would be enough for Falkner, too. And Alexander …

Griffin’s uneasiness grew as he thought of his bronze-haired brother and the mockery in those shifting eyes. Alexander has been playing his own game … From the look on Falkner’s face, he had no idea that Alexander had found that ancient control sequence. Siegfried? I don’t know … I bet Alexander bragged about having something up his sleeve. It would be like him. How did Alexander find it?

Griffin stopped pacing, knowing that his real question was, “Why didn’t I find it?” He resisted admitting that Alexander might be better than him in his chosen area of expertise. He’d always thought of Alexander as more interested in military history, rather than in the complexities of Old Imperial culture.

And what, moron, would be of greater military use than the ability to control your opponents? Alexander probably came across the information in one of those old soldier’s journals he loves. Does it matter where he found it? Really matter except to your damn ego? What matters is that Alexander can apparently make a few weirdly inflected sounds and even strong-willed people like Bruin and Terrell become obedient puppets.

Griffin sagged back onto his bunk, remembering how after Alexander had given his command, Terrell and Bruin had both immediately answered any question put to them. At first their replies had been clipped, hardly more than “yes” or “no,” but when Alexander added the injunction that they speak fully, even that resistance had melted away. They actually seemed to enjoy briefing their enemies.

Ring had proven more of a difficulty, since his peculiar way of answering any question meant that most of his replies sounded like nonsense. He couldn’t even answer most simple yes/no questions with a single word. Alexander was becoming furious—much to Siegfried’s amusement—when the Old One had explained that he’d known Ring since Ring’s birth and that the man really was trying to answer clearly.

I’d bet anything that Alexander tested this trick in advance. He wouldn’t have risked making a fool of himself. Not our Alex. I wonder which one he tried it on? Not the Old One. If Alexander had tried his little gimmick on “Maxwell,” surely he would have known more of the Old One’s secrets. The lad Seamus seems subnormal, hardly a good subject. Probably Julyan, then. That would explain a few things. From what both Bruin and Adara have said, Julyan was an arrogant type, not the sort to contentedly settle on guard duty. I wonder how complete Alexander’s control of his subjects is? I wonder how far it extends? My impression was that the control sequence was meant to be a safeguard against rebellion. Surely if a few words would turn the natives of Artemis into obedient automata, then more would have died during the final attack. Yet both our legends and Artemesian lore hold that the majority of the population stood aside of the conflict.

At this, Griffin felt curiously hopeful. Maybe the situation for his friends was not as hopeless as it seemed. He hoped Bruin and Terrell had the sense to hide any free will they retained. Surely, like him, they would realize that escape would be most likely if the Dane brothers thought the prisoners were safely under control.

“The Dane Brothers,” Griffin thought. When did I start thinking of them as something other than my own group? Was it when I realized they’d been poaching my work or even before—when I decided to hide my efforts even from my own family?

Is there a way I can communicate with Terrell or Bruin that will not immediately be given away? All it would take was for Alexander to order “Tell me what you and Griffin were talking about,” and they’d spill everything. I suppose the safest route would be to see if Terrell and I can re-establish our mental link. Will he cooperate or will he see me as one of the enemy now? He was already distrustful. Will the arrival of my family make him even more guarded?

Griffin was still brooding when he heard the door to his cell being opened. Falkner stood without, looked tired and vaguely harassed. He held a nerve burner loosely in one hand. Griffin wondered if he’d been ill. Certainly, he didn’t look as robust as usual.

“Come out, Griff. I want to talk with you about this complex, those spaveks. I’ve tried talking to that Ring. I figured that since he’d actually managed to operate one, he’d be the most logical person to speak with.”

Griffin forced a grin. He’d always liked Falkner, even if he found him a touch dull and mono-focused. “‘Logical’ and Ring are not two concepts I would use in the same sentence,” he said, stepping out into the corridor. He knew that Falkner wasn’t about to come into the cell, just in case Griffin might grab him and try to use him as a hostage. “Actually, that’s not fair. Ring is logical—in his own way. However, his logic is usually impenetrable until far after the fact.”

Griffin thought about telling how poor Fred had ended up hung on a hickory tree, because it was the only way Ring could arrange factors so that the end result he wanted would develop. He decided against it. The more of a puzzle Ring remained, the better.

Falkner motioned for Griffin to follow him toward the labs. “Don’t try anything, Griff. Julyan has orders to shoot you if you move wrong. I can’t figure out why, but I think he’d love the excuse. Once we turn the corner, we’re going to be where Siegfried can cover. Got it?”

Griffin didn’t even bother to reply. War games and tactical setups had been what his family played, rather than the glow ball and aerial athletics that had been popular in other households. Although his father and mother had shifted focus by the time their last child was born, and so Griffin had been encouraged in different areas, he could not have missed how skilled his older siblings were when it came to kill or be killed.

Therefore, even when they rounded the corner and Griffin saw that Siegfried was apparently absorbed in schematics displayed on one of Leto’s projection terminals, Griffin did not make the mistake of believing he could take advantage of being out of Julyan’s range to make a go for Falkner. In any case, any such plan left out that Falkner was plenty dangerous in and of himself.

As Falkner led Griffin to the arena, Griffin saw the Old One at a table to one side reviewing the drawings Terrell had made. Alexander was nowhere to be seen—a fact that didn’t make Griffin in the least more relaxed. Alexander out of sight was at least as dangerous as Alexander at hand. He wondered if Siegfried and Falkner realized this. Alexander was very charismatic if he wished to be and he usually reserved his nastier side for those who wouldn’t be in a position to complain.

And he’s only gotten better about hiding his kinks since we’ve grown up, Griffin thought.

For the next few hours, Griffin did his best to answer the questions Falkner put to him. He tried to use how he phrased his replies to send Leto the silent message that although these men were his brothers, they were not necessarily his friends. Whether or not he succeeded was impossible to judge. Leto remained mute, other than issuing warnings when someone was about to do something that might cause injury to the facility. Griffin noticed she did not seem to care whether they injured themselves.

Eventually, Falkner ran out of questions. He stood studying the blue spavek, which stood open on its squire.

“We saw Ring wearing this and using it at least well enough to move in it,” he said. “And you say you’ve worn it.”

“Once,” Griffin repeated for the umpteenth time, “and only with limited success.”

“Yet when I tried it on,” Falkner said, tugging at an earlobe in obvious vexation, “I had no success activating it; neither did Siegfried, nor Alexander.”

Griffin had suspected as much. His brothers were not timid. If one of them had been able to use the spavek, Griffin would not have been sitting here answering increasingly repetitious questions.

“There’s no hope for it, then,” Falkner said with a huge sigh. “You’re going to have to put it on again. I wouldn’t trust that Ring to be able to follow orders—not even with Alexander pulling his strings.”

Griffin’s heart raced as he remembered what had happened the last time he’d worn the blue spavek. He said hesitantly, “I wasn’t very successful. If Ring hadn’t been by to get me out…”

Falkner shook his head, dismissing the protest. “Different now. You’ve shown me where the emergency release is.”

“You trust me wearing that thing?” Griffin said, moving as if to undo one of the bone buttons that held his shirt closed. “It is armor, Falkner.”

“And we have hostages against your behaving badly.” Alexander’s voice came lazily from the door. Griffin had no idea how long he’d been listening. “You’ve always been soft that way, Griffin. I think a promise to burn off a finger or maybe a foot from one of your friends would keep you in line. And you know we’d keep our promise.”

Falkner looked sorrowful. “We’d have to, Griffin. As you said, this armor is potentially dangerous. Although we need to test it, we need to do so with all possible safeguards.”

Griffin shrugged. “Well, then, I’d better put the damn thing on. Otherwise Alexander might get overeager. We wouldn’t want that, would we?”

Alexander smiled his warmest, most winning smile. “It wouldn’t be me, Griffin. It would be you. You were informed in advance of the consequences of your actions.”

Stripping off his clothes, Griffin started fitting himself into the blue spavek. Falkner moved so he could record the initial donning phase. As Griffin triggered the controls that would cause the spavek to activate, he heard Falkner saying, “Pity we can’t see what’s going on inside, but the shielding defies the scanners I have with me.”

As the blue spavek went through its uncomfortable period of linking Griffin’s organic form to its inorganic, Griffin hardly noticed. One thing he’d held back from Falkner was how his link to Terrell had been intensified after he had worn the suit. Since Griffin had never been noted for psionic ability, Falkner was operating on the theory that Griffin’s ability to use the suit had something to do with the greater amount of time he’d been on Artemis, perhaps that he’d soaked something up from the environment that permitted the biomechanical linkage. Given what Griffin had learned about Artemis and her mycelium-based nervous system, this didn’t sound as outlandish as it once might have done

Of course, Griffin had been careful not to volunteer anything about either his link with Terrell or about the planetary intelligence. As far as he could tell, his brothers had no inkling of either’s existence. Keeping secrets soothed Griffin’s bruised ego—as well as seeming very prudent.

“Griffin,” Falkner called, raising his voice slightly, as if wearing the spavek would deaden Griffin’s ability to hear. In reality, as far as Griffin could tell, his hearing was improved. “Let’s start simple. Detach yourself from the squire and move each of your limbs on my command.”

As Griffin followed Falkner’s commands—raising his right arm, then his left, flexing the elbow joints, and so on—he concentrated on finding the emotional pulse that was Terrell. Perhaps because this was his second time wearing the suit and he knew a bit more of what to expect, Griffin did not feel nearly as disoriented. He wondered if the suit had somehow stored information from their earlier contact and was now using it to adapt to another wearer.

That would make sense, Griffin thought. If it connected to me expecting the oddity that is Ring, no wonder I got the willies. From how Ring spoke, I had been thinking of the suits as one-person items, but that doesn’t make sense. The organic component would be very vulnerable. Perhaps there are more or less ideal wearers but, as long as certain basics are met, the suits can adapt.

He was slowly jogging around the chamber, taking care to occasionally slip or weave erratically, so Falkner wouldn’t realize that he was actually adapting better, when his searching mind found the pulse he had been seeking. This contact was not like the first contact, when he had been a prisoner. Those had begun as peculiar dreams and evolved into a sort of communication via image. Nor was it like the time he’d felt Terrell’s emotions.

Perhaps because of the suit’s enhancement, Griffin felt both Terrell’s thoughts and his emotions. Astonishment, discomfort, then a raw joy that made Griffin stumble as he was caught in its intensity, so that he went down onto both armored knees and barely caught himself on his hands. Griffin felt washed in a shout of golden brilliance twisted through with earthy brown. He knew without knowing why that this was the equivalent of his name in the mental space that was Terrell.

Griffin didn’t know what Terrell “saw” in return when Griffin shaped the other man’s name in his head, but knew that each recognized the other without doubt or question.

Uncertain how much time they had, Griffin shaped his thoughts as cascades of images, hoping that his meaning would come across to Terrell. He showed himself in the blue spavek, Falkner and Alexander standing by. He sent the revelation that something to do with the spavek permitted this stronger, more solid communication.

Terrell sent back a patchwork wash of thoughts and reactions. Pleasure that they could communicate. A summary of his own activities since they were imprisoned. He’d been questioned by both Alexander and the Old One. From this Griffin learned that Terrell could indeed resist Alexander’s commands, at least to the extent of not volunteering more than he was asked. Resisting even to this extent was painful. Cooperation, by contrast, resulted in a wash of contentment and satisfaction more seductive than mere pleasure.

There was something else there, something Terrell was quick to hide, but if hatred had a taste, Terrell hated Alexander.

Terrell’s initial report was followed by images of Griffin tearing through the complex, releasing Terrell and Bruin. (And, incidentally, stomping on Julyan in the process.) This part was colored with a pale green that made it into a question. More questions. Did Griffin know where Adara was? Kipper?

Griffin sent images of how Terrell and Bruin would be used if he employed the spavek to resist. He felt Terrell’s instinctive fear, followed by his assertion of willingness to risk injury if taking such a risk would win them their freedom. Griffin accepted this, but knew Terrell would also feel Griffin’s reluctance to take such a risk unless he was fairly certain of success.

Even with whatever enhancement the spavek was offering, Griffin found continuing his communication with Terrell while operating the spavek difficult. Vaguely, he became aware that he was crashing into the walls, levitating a few feet, then falling flat. He heard Alexander’s laughter, Falkner’s shouts of alarm—although something cynical in Griffin knew those shouts were more for fear the artifact would be damaged than for Griffin himself. At last he felt a slap in the vicinity of his chest, a mustard yellow shock that felt like cold water wrapping around his heart. Then the sense of Terrell in his head dimmed to a wash of sensation, waves lapping a distant shore. The spavek went into standby mode and Griffin was left hanging, his torso suspended by the joint covers, his head held upright by the edges of the helmet.

Still smiling, Griffin fell slightly forward, still in the suit’s grasp, and puked all over the two men standing in front of him.

Sand Shadow and Honeychild joined Adara soon after full dark had fallen. From the bear, Adara learned that only one of Griffin’s brothers had even bothered to poke his head out into the valley. Comparing the relayed image to the descriptions Kipper had given her, Adara decided this must have been Alexander. She tried to remember what Griffin had said about him, and realized that he hadn’t said much about any of his nine siblings. Occasionally, he’d mention that someone had taught him something but, not even when they’d been visiting with her family and such talk would have been natural, had he said much.

Terrell also didn’t talk much about his family but, in his case, that was natural. Like Adara, he had left home to begin his training very young, for his quick mind had been quickly recognized, and each generation of his family liked to supply at least one factotum in honor of the family’s heritage. Terrell did talk about his teachers and the classmates who had been like brothers and sisters to him. He’d even mentioned that his parents were alive and would dance at his wedding …

She shoved such thoughts from her mind, knowing she was letting herself be distracted because Alexander frightened her. She had no doubt that Kipper was telling the truth when he said that Alexander had the power to control the people of Artemis. Such commands were included in lore and legend—and stories both bawdy and grim had grown up around the motif of what happened when a proud young woman met a seegnur with the power to command. Even if these seegnur were not interested in such games with an Artemesian, Adara knew one member of their company at least would love to play out the old tales.

Honeychild had not found Julyan’s scent any deeper into the vale of Maiden’s Tear than a few paces from the door in the rock wall, but the bear’s finding confirmed Adara’s guess that the Artemesian man whose name Kipper had not known had been Julyan. That only left the curiously slack-faced boy unidentified, but Adara had her guesses. The Old One had been breeding highly adapted children for many years now. It was quite possible that a few had been stashed elsewhere than Mender’s Isle. The Old One was not the sort to put all his eggs in one basket. Adara guessed that this boy had been one such and that the Old One had reclaimed him when all else went to ruin.

She put supposition from her mind and focused on what was before them. First, she needed to find out if the ways into Leto remained open. Even if the doors were open, would Leto let her enter or give her away? How to find out? Adara had the distinct impression that Leto did not like her. Yet, Leto did like Griffin and these new arrivals had taken him prisoner. Might Leto be willing to view Adara along the lines of the enemy of my enemy is, if not my friend, at least my ally?

There was only one way to find out and that was risky. It meant that Adara had to put herself where Leto could “see” her—and where Leto might choose to betray her.

“My choices are limited,” Adara explained to Sand Shadow. “It’s either risking Leto or leaving the others prisoner and hoping they get themselves out. I can’t even wait for the group to leave the complex, because there’s no guarantee they ever will. Kipper said the Danes arrived through an underground tunnel. It’s likely they’ll leave that way, even bring in supplies that way.”

Sand Shadow may not have understood all the words, but she gathered enough to send Adara a question. It took the form of a strange creature—a graceful young woman who, at the same time, looked as if she’d burst from the ground like an elf-cap mushroom. Adara knew who the puma meant. Even as she marveled at the merging of images, she was shaking her head.

“Artemis? What can she do? She cannot see into Leto. I’m not sure if Leto knows Artemis exists but, if she does, I have a feeling that knowing we know Artemis isn’t going to make Leto like us any better.”

A querulous me-rowl expressed Sand Shadow’s doubt in Adara’s conclusion. Clearly the puma felt that Artemis would be an advantage in this situation.

Adara tried to find a way to explain. “If Leto was created first—as Terrell seems to think—then she’s going to think Artemis should be serving her. We know Artemis won’t do that. The very thought of Leto puts Artemis into a panic. Best we leave this for another time.”

Sand Shadow rolled over, waving her paws in the air in mock surrender. Adara gave her belly fur a vigorous rub.

After considering various plans, Adara came up with one that she was willing to try. Thus far they had no evidence that Leto had any mobile units—not even to the extent that Artemis had her various fungi. Therefore, if Leto called help, that help would be human.

“We’ll rig a deadfall over the door,” Adara said, “so that if she does call someone, we can slow them down while we get away.”

Sand Shadow sent an image of her paw, claws spread wide, making bloody ruin of an anonymous human threat.

“No. We don’t want to go that far. We might need any one of them—even Julyan or the Old One. Worse, if Alexander does control our friends, one of them might be sent out to ‘negotiate’ with us. Best we set up something less lethal.”

Sand Shadow wasn’t completely satisfied, but when she saw the elaborate deadfall Adara had in mind, she agreed. Like most cats, she had a distinct sense of humor and leaving a human—especially one armed with powerful weapons such as the blue spavek had possessed—incommoded while they fled caught her fancy.

As Adara rigged a heavy net Bruin had brought in his gear, pots of various nasty-smelling liquids meant to stop anyone from tracking them by scent, and a few other little gimmicks into a bundle she could easily move, she hoped she wouldn’t need any of this. She’d seen the gouts of lightning Ring had shot from the blue spavek.

Still, she thought, we have to take a chance. Let’s learn if Leto’s willing to talk. If not, we may not be able to set our friends free.

What Reaction?

Condemnation

Retaliation

In What Fashion?

Execution?

Later, maybe,

First, Prevention

Could There Be Any Objection?