Mirror 04 The Way Between the Worlds by Ian Irvine Read Free Book Online Page B

sensitive, even if
it took me a hundred years to find one.'
Karan stood up. 'You are the Great Betrayer, the bane of two worlds. I can
never trust you.'
'Of course not. But do you?'
She sat down again. 'It's impossible, but I do believe you.'
'Then go. Your debt is absolved.'
She did not move. 'You can't absolve it! I gave you my promise in exchange for
Llian's freedom. Even if I could go back on my word, I must expect you to do
the same.'
Rulke smiled, but she sensed relief as well.
'You knew that all along, didn't you!' she snapped, feeling that she had been
cleverly manipulated.
'I know your character. But, on the other hand, you have free will. I didn't
know what you would do. Shall we begin?'
'Let's get it over with.'
'Link with me.'
She allowed him to touch that small, cut-off portion of her mind that had not
been used since Narne, more than a year ago. Then she shied away
instinctively, like an unbroken filly, expecting to feel some horror or
loathing. There was nothing like that. The touch of his mind was quite gentle,
even a little tentative.
It surprised her. He was too clever for her, this Great Betrayer. She allowed
him to continue, and through the contact she sensed many things. An
overwhelming purpose; an urge to dominate and possess; to crush his enemies;
never to yield. The Charon were rulers of Aachan but prisoners there, unable
to increase, surrounded by the legions of the Aachim, the threat of extinction
hanging over them. But what she most feared - the depravity and corruption of
Emmant, a mind so diseased that the touch of it had been like that rodent she
had pulled out of the water barrel in the wharf city of Thurkad, rotted into
jelly and matted fur - there was not the least trace of that here.
I might be committing a terrible, wicked crime, she thought, one that no one
can ever forgive me for. But at least I'm working with a man who is not
totally evil. Not for
anything could she have collaborated with Emmant.
'Are you all right?'
'Yes,' she murmured.
Rulke got busy with the construct. Karan felt a sick dizziness, then
encouragement poured across the link, steadying her.
'Now comes the most delicate stage of all - finding the right way to penetrate
the Forbidding. It must be done delicately, so as not to alert the creatures
that dwell in the void.'
'Are you going to take the construct to Aachan?'
'If only I could!' he sighed. 'But everything's different now. The best I can
do is find the Way there, with your help, and using your senses linked to me,
try to speak to my people.'
Karan wriggled under her blanket. She was cold. She stretched, rubbed her
chilly fingers together, waited. Nothing happened for some time and her mind
drifted away onto familiar paths, familiar longings that were stronger than
    ever, now that it seemed they would never be fulfilled.
She longed to be back in Gothryme, her shabby little manor that had been
damaged in the war. It would probably never be repaired, for war and drought
had cost her everything she had, and Yggur's tax collector was due in the
spring, only months away. And when she could not pay him, surely Gothryme
would be stripped from her. That would not have happened in the old days, but
Bannador was a free nation no longer. It lay under the yoke of Yggur, and she
knew how ruthless he could be.
She longed for her own people, especially faithful old Rachis, her steward for
nearly twenty years, the mainstay of Gothryme. He had always been steadfast.
He should be enjoying his rocking chair by the hearth now, not working day and
night to keep Gothryme from falling apart.
She longed for her gardens that she had just begun to lay out, and for the
feel of the poor soil of Gothryme in her fingers. But most of all she ached
for Llian, for the comfort
of his arms around her, for his jokes and tales, and his lovemaking too. Not
much of that lately. Rulke had come between them on the way back from Katazza,
and dear