Chapter 46

––––––––

Marc opened his eyes slowly, breathing carefully, expecting to feel pain. When he didn’t, he sat up and looked around him. He was on a couch in a room he didn’t recognize. Allie was asleep, sitting on the floor beside him.

A portrait of one of the most beautiful women he’d ever seen gazed down at him from its place over the mantle. He recognized Shalis in her, guessing this must be Shalael Telaerin. Covered in cobwebs as it was, her beauty mesmerized him and made him smile. He thought of Shalis and wanted her there with him right then, just to hold, or even look at, but at the same time knew he couldn’t tolerate her presence so close to Maralt.

Memory returned of Kamien lying dead, his body grotesque and bloated, but that was quickly followed by other images, crowding in too quickly to sort through. In rapid succession, he saw a room of spheres, his home laid waste, and a man escaping to ensure his survival, to secure his lineage. Marc saw the man growing over the Ages, changing, losing some of his knowledge while gaining other skills. He went to Yomir and started a war that lasted nearly all the Ages Brittallia had existed, only to be stopped by Dynan Telaerin’s grandfather. He lived to this day, surviving to destroy the Telaerins, who had thwarted him with unrelenting tenacity, in an attempt to regain the power his ancestors had lost. Dionin Telaerin had failed to completely defeat his enemy though, leaving to subsequent generations an evil grown more deadly than the first. Ambrose Telaerin had most certainly died at Maralt’s hand.

Something twisted inside him suddenly, something that screamed at him of fear and warning.

“Run, you idiot! Run!”

The door down a long hall slammed open. Marc jumped to his feet. He couldn’t run. There wasn’t any place to run to. Dain bore down on him. Not Dain but Maralt, and he knew. Marc saw it in his face, twisted in rage, and in his eyes, a gaze that leapt toward him in cold waves of fury. Marc stumbled backward, but Maralt caught him up, hands locking around his throat, his face too close to avoid looking in his eyes. He couldn’t escape.

“Time I killed you for certain, Commander.”

The room around them melted away, changing into a long stone corridor that stank of rotting flesh. Marc wrenched away, struggling wildly to keep Maralt’s hand from reaching his heart. The instant he was free, something ripped away from him, stepping outside of him. Dain Telaerin stood with him, bracing to fight when they were all pulled from the dungeon corridor. They stood outside the Beren Mansion. A stone path wound up to the back portico and Marc realized what had happened. He remembered it; the terrible battle fought by the fountain, and he saw that Maralt remembered too.

On the ground at their feet, another version of Dain knelt, still chained, looking up with the certainty of the damned, while the other one stared down at a cowering version of himself. Understanding came an instant too late. Dain was dragged toward himself and merged the next instant. It happened in the blink of an eye, the two of them slammed together to become one. He immediately started yanking against the chains that bound him to the ground that Maralt had put on him. They kept him from escaping, or doing anything to help.

Maralt watched, a smile of triumph lighting his eyes as he turned on Marc, and lunged for him.

Marc tumbled backward, hardly avoiding him, desperately seeking to escape him, to get back to himself and his body. Here, within his mind, there was no protection. Blue sparks shot from Maralt’s hand, paralyzing Marc where he lay. All he saw were fangs and taloned fingers lowering toward him.

Maralt bent over him, grasping a fistful of shirt, jerking him up. “You are mine.”

Marc grabbed the hand hovering over his chest, fighting against pain and the paralysis that so weakened him, propelling himself backward, but he was followed for each step. Maralt’s hand came around the back of his head, forcing him forward. His fingers slipped through cloth effortlessly, into skin next.

A blur of motion to his right drew his eye and Maralt jerked, torn away as Dain somehow broke the chains that held him and threw himself at them. Marc fell to the ground. Their location shifted.

He rolled onto a grime-encrusted floor; this one a dark cell where only the outline of dim shapes reached his eyes. A putrid stench burgeoned around him and he choked on it. Sickness rose to his throat, unstoppable, wrenching through his body.

The table beside him burst. Dain and Maralt, grappling against one another, landed and rolled toward him. Marc clawed his way to his feet, rising to dive out of their way, certain that if Maralt touched him again he would die. He was almost right about that, but then he knew that there were some things worse than death.

Pain shot up through his leg and into the other one and he felt a hand around his ankle. He couldn’t breathe to scream. He was yanked down, overwhelmed by malevolent strength that drew him in. Dain struggled against Maralt, but he was weakening. Marc struck at Maralt’s head, kicking him, feeling his own weakness growing. Every time Maralt touched them, he extracted power, drawing their strength into himself. Pain magnified with every movement of resistance.

Marc rose, screaming as he twisted from the iron grasp around his leg. He fell into the wall behind him. Again, he tried to mentally shift, but the cell held him. A chain rattled, rising of its own to seek him out. He tore himself away from it as Maralt stood, pulling Dain up in the same motion and threw him into the corner. The chains whipped through the air, snapping tight, and Dain was instantly shackled.

Maralt didn’t stop, pressing him back into the corner, mouth opening for his throat, but latched down on his shoulder instead when Dain yanked away from him. He screamed, collapsing down as far as the chains would let him. He was pulled up and stretched taut as his strength evaporated.

Marc straightened, watching in horror as Maralt bit Dain again. He remembered too well how excruciating it was and feared it was about to happen to him again. It struck him again how terribly real it felt when he knew he was physically somewhere else. He thought as hard as he knew how to get there, even if it meant facing Maralt in reality. Outside this mental blockade, there were people who could help him. He knew now, he should have told them before this.

Maralt whipped around, his hand rising. A blue ball of energy slammed into Marc, followed by another that tossed him off his feet. Pain scoured his body, skin blistering. Another blast erupted next to him and he saw Dain kicking at Maralt. Dain, who still fought against the chains that held him, through certain agony. Marc didn’t know how he stood it and knew he couldn’t.

A door stood open beyond where Marc lay on the floor. The cell door was open, the thought blasted in, and beyond it there was light. Getting out, getting away was all that mattered. Marc crawled, found strength to push up off the floor to his feet, his eyes locked on the door and the promise of freedom.

“No!” Dain screamed at him. “Don’t leave me in here.”

Marc looked back as Maralt turned. He raised his hand, pausing for just an instant to smile. An unseen force latched onto Marc, pulling him in, back to the corner, and Maralt laughed at him, shaking his head slightly.

Abruptly, Marc stumbled backward. He regained the ability to move and tore away from the dissipating field. Maralt jerked, staring upward and behind him. Dain struggled wildly, wrenching against his chains, watching Marc in desperation, his eyes pleading that he stay.

Marc hesitated, stopped by fear. Maralt lurched toward him, his own objective the door and escape. Marc turned from Dain’s gaze, hating himself, hating that he had to leave him, but terrified he wouldn’t get out, or worse, couldn’t stop Maralt from getting out with him, or into him instead. Marc heard Dain, screaming after him, begging him not to leave him with Maralt.

He reached the door hardly three steps ahead of Maralt, slamming it closed behind him, and in his mind made it steel instead of wood. Automatic locking bolts slid into place. Marc turned to run and the lights spun madly around him.

There were hands all over him and voices in his ear as he struggled. The hands around his throat fell away, letting him breathe. He felt his balance go, but someone caught him. A blurred hand reached for him and in it, he saw a dermal injector. He reared back, fighting off the hands that held him. Beside him, someone grunted in pain. Marc struck again, turning swiftly back to the others coming at him.

His vision cleared. He was back in the world. He saw Geneal cowering down beneath him, grasping a dermal injector, one slim wrist held fast in his hand. His other fist hovered, poised above her head. From behind, Allie clamped down on his arms, pinning them to his sides. Marc crumpled beneath the sudden weight. Allie stopped himself before he would have crashed down on top of him, but held him down.

“Any time now, Geneal.”

“Allie, wait,” she said, looking at him. “Marc, can you hear me? Let him go.”

He would have answered her, but his gaze suddenly fell on Dain, lying on the floor, too close, eyes opened to slits. He jerked away from Allie, propelling himself backward, pushing until his back met the hearth of the fireplace.

“Marc, it’s all right. He can’t get up.”

He saw that Dain wasn’t moving and the eyes beneath the lids were dull. Geneal held out the injector to him, to show him what she held. It was set on a mild dose of cordalin and she smiled at his confusion.

“This is for you. I gave him anethinol. I thought you might be in pain when we got you back. Are you?”

“No,” he whispered and started to shake. He saw Ralion holding his side as he picked himself up off the floor.

“Thanks a lot, Marc,” he said, sitting down quickly in the nearest chair.

Marc wasn’t listening to him, watching Dain, unmoving, but still too close. He stood and Allie held him while the dizziness passed. He backed away from them, eyes never leaving Dain.

“He’ll be out for at least an hour,” Geneal said.

Marc couldn’t believe it when he desperately wanted to. “Get away from him. Don’t argue with me. Just do it.”

Ralion glanced at Allie, nodded, and Geneal didn’t argue. They moved to the door and Marc opened it, but didn’t go out. Across the hall, the King’s door stood closed again. The hall windows had been left open and he breathed in the cool air, hardly able to refrain from running to it, relief finally calming his mind.

Weariness followed and he couldn’t stand, half falling down to the floor. He realized his head did hurt, but it wasn’t nearly as bad as it should have been, considering what had just happened to him. He resisted the urge to check his chest for claw marks, dropping his head into his hands. He heard Dain screaming after him as the cell door slammed closed. He didn’t think he’d ever be free of it again.

The terrible realization came. Marc knew he had to go back.

That Dain Telaerin had taken up residence inside his mind for so long came as a complete, inexplicable shock. Marc hadn’t known it, or even suspected it and felt he should have, particularly since Dain had started talking to him. Now that he knew, Marc understood when it had happened, and more came with that thought. Dynan and Carryn had also experienced the same attack. In a flash, Marc remembered everything that happened. All the long hours that Maralt had tortured Dain into submission, overcoming him finally at the Beren Mansion. It was certain that they were all of them alive now because Dain never stopped fighting.

Geneal and Allie sat down with him, while Ralion simultaneously kept an eye out the door and on Dain, probably having a hard time believing he wasn’t going to stand up and kill them all. That thought prompted Marc into action.

“I want you all to go back downstairs and stay with Dynan,” he said, his voice scratching through his throat. “I have to go back. He’s got Dain. I have to go back and get him. It’s Maralt.”

Ralion started. “What do you mean? Maralt’s dead.”

“He’s not dead. By the force of his will, he’s alive. He’s inside Dain and has been since his own body died. That’s why he was able to wake up. Dain’s been with him all this time, tortured, beaten into submission, and he couldn’t stop him. The reason we’re all alive right now, if you want to know, is because Dain tried everything he could to keep Maralt from hurting us. Dynan, all of us are alive because he’s been in there fighting every minute. He’s there still. I have to go back and get him.”

“How Marc?” Geneal asked.

Marc looked at her, wishing he knew the answer. The thought of even trying terrified him, but something in the back of his mind told him he would manage it, he would survive as long as he did what was right.

“I have to try. Maralt is incredibly strong now. He’s taken Dain’s memories, Dain’s ability, and combined it with his own. Dain’s there, chained in a cell and you don’t want to know what else, which is why I have to go and get him.”

“Get him?” Ralion asked. “How and go where?”

“When Carryn, Dynan, and I were attacked at the same time, back when we were on the XR-30, Dain somehow split himself. The three of us had a part of him inside. It’s hard to explain, but I think if he came out of me, then I can bring him back in without leaving anything behind for Maralt. When that happens, the man you see as Dain won’t be him at all. That’s when we could all end up dead if I can’t stop him. Ralion, I want you to start making preliminary plans to evacuate the Palace. Geneal, you need to find a way to get Dynan out of here without anyone knowing it, without killing him either. We’ll evacuate to the base for now. All of you are to be accompanied by guards. Can we open this channel and keep it that way?”

“Yes,” Allie said. “You run the risk of overlapping communications doing that and something may get lost, but as long as we all try to remember not to talk at the same time, it should work well enough. You’re thinking of a warning system.”

“Yes. A way for us to keep in constant communication, so if something happens to one of us, then the rest will know it.”

“Why hasn’t he killed Dynan?” Ralion asked. “He’s had the opportunity and the means.”

“He can’t yet. If he wants to rule here, he has to have a certain amount of cooperation. I’m not sure how many non-telepaths he can control at the same time. I know what he’s after though. He doesn’t want Dynan dead yet. He wants to own him, just like he owns Dain.”

He didn’t tell them that Maralt wanted to own him too. He hesitated a moment.

“If he can’t control Dynan, he’ll certainly kill him, and Maralt will realize what Dain did to survive. He knows now that something of Dain is in Dynan. Maralt will want him all, or as much of him as he can get. That part that Carryn held died with her.”

He swallowed, fear of that reality threatening to keep him from moving. If Maralt, as strong as he was now with Dain, succeeded in taking Dynan or himself, Marc knew nothing would stop him. He thought that might already be true. Another, more terrible thought struck him. If he tried and failed, and Maralt took him, Marc could be sent back to deceive them all, a more dangerous power alive and controlled, than dead.

“There’s something else,” he said, afraid to tell them, another voice, one he hated, whispering at him to keep this truth to himself. “If he wins, I may come back on his side.”

They stared at him and Ralion started shaking his head. “Then you shouldn’t do it,” he said, glancing at Geneal. “We can kill him now, without so much risk to you or anyone else.”

“No,” Marc said immediately. “Dain is—”

“Dain would do it without thinking about it, Marc,” Ralion said. “Don’t you think he hates this? He killed Sheed. Do you think he’ll want to live with that? We can kill them both right now.”

“What Dain chooses to live with is up to him, not us. I can’t believe you’re even ... It isn’t right and you know it.”

“When the risks outweigh the benefit, I’m supposed to consider it.”

“So you’re going to be the one to tell Dynan that Dain is dead after all? That we killed his brother?” Marc asked.

“We can’t risk losing you too, and we sure can’t risk having you come back on his side.”

Marc nodded to that. He understood that fear well enough. They were even right. “Then I’ll just have to make sure I don’t and get Dain away from him.”

“How are we even supposed to know? How will we tell the difference?” Ralion asked.

“You’ll know it.” He rubbed his head, trying to think. “I don’t think we should leave him up here and I don’t want any of us left alone with him. Can we move him down to the Medic Center? And maybe lock him up?”

“Yes,” Geneal said. “But he’ll be seen like this. You’ll want to decide what you’re going to tell everyone.”

“Officially, he collapsed. We expect him to recover. Stress. What ever you think is feasible. What about Kamien?”

“I think we sit on that for the time being,” Ralion said.

“Why?” Allie asked. “Kamien’s death is a good thing.”

“Yes,” Ralion said, “but with that announcement and no one officially in charge here, how long do you think it’ll take our enemies to launch an attack?”

Marc pushed himself up, glancing at Dain for a long time. “Can I reach him while he’s on anethinol?”

“Yes. Maralt did the same thing to Dynan right after Dain died, or, I mean after he was taken.” Geneal lowered her eyes. “Carryn told me what Maralt did to him.”

“Then you know what he’s doing to Dain right now and has been all this time. You don’t want me to try either, do you?” Slowly Geneal shook her head. “Allie?”

“No.”

For a moment, he stood silently, wishing he could listen to them, fear winning out over doing the right thing, but he knew he couldn’t do what they wanted, couldn’t stand by while Ralion took what was probably the smartest and certainly the easiest course of action. He wondered too if it would really work, after having seen how Maralt was supposed to be taken. Killing the host could make things worse.

“I’m going anyway. Get him down to the Medic Center. Make sure you’re not late with the next dose of anethinol.”

“I won’t, but Marc, I may not be able to give it to him. Prolonged exposure to anethinol is deadly. I almost killed Dynan leaving him on it for too long. There’s no way to tell when that limit is reached. I’ll try to let you know.”

“If something happens to me...” He glanced at Ralion. “Well, you’ll know what to do.”

“If I can, you mean?”

“You will. Go on.” He was about to turn from them, trying to think where he would go to make the attempt, when he heard Loren’s voice calling from the hall. Ralion stepped out to let her know where they were and a moment later she rushed in.

“Marc,” she gasped, out of breath from running up all those stairs, laughing at the same time. “He woke up. He talked to me. He ... Marc, he’s going to be all right.” She threw her arms around him, crying and laughing.

Marc immediately concentrated and tried to reach Dynan, but couldn’t. There was nothing there still. He glanced at Geneal and she touched her transmitter to communicate with her father. “Loren. All right.”

She settled and saw Dain. “What’s happened?”

“I’ll explain later. What did he say?”

“He said you were with him and you saved his life. He was afraid you were dead somehow. I couldn’t understand it all. He went right back down, but he talked to me.”

Marc blinked, a flashing vision of a room, achingly bright, jarred into his mind. “Geneal?”

“She’s right, Marc. He came up – longer than he has before. Father says he’s unsure what to make of it.”

Loren hardly listened. “What was Dynan talking about, Marc? What did he mean?”

“I don’t know. I can’t remember. Go back downstairs. Stay with him.

“He seemed to want me to find out if you were all right. What’s happened?”

“I can’t explain right now. Geneal, we need to move here. We’re running out of time.”

Geneal nodded, going to Dain’s side to check him. Allie and Ralion helped her get him up, struggling with his weight.

“I don’t understand,” Loren said as she followed them.

“You will soon enough. Allie, I want her online as soon as possible.” He noticed a guard following her then, eyeing him until he remembered where he’d seen him before. The man straightened, saluting briskly.

“My name is Lt. Eyron Renning, Commander. I’m from the Exile Base.”

“I remember you,” Marc said.

“Captain Bairing assigned me to escort Lady Loren and kill anyone who threatened her harm, as he put it.” He smiled and Marc liked him immediately. “May I be of assistance?”

“Yes, you can get a few more guards up here. We need to get down to the Medic Center.”

Eyron nodded, moving to the closest companel and began issuing orders. The two guards at the entry door moved to help. As they made their slow way down, two more guards trotted up to take over, sending the others back to their posts.

The Palace was mostly deserted except for the guards they passed and an occasional servant, making Marc wonder what they could be doing at this time of night. He saw Meg Wrinn then, standing just outside the dining hall, and realized it was later than he thought. Out of the un-shattered portions of the courtyard windows, he saw dawn slowly brightening the eastern sky, though daylight was still at least an hour away. An hour he thought, less than that to try and get Dain away from Maralt. He didn’t think he could.

Allie stopped suddenly, putting his hand to his ear, and then turned to look at Marc. By his stricken expression, Marc knew that something else had just gone wrong.