Flight to Savage Empire

Chapter Four

Astra fled the temple, fled the Academy grounds, fled from every lie in her life.

Fled from Portia.

In her emotional state, her powers were open to the thoughts of everyone she passed. But she could tolerate that, almost ignore it, as her mind scanned for Readers watching her, following her out of body.

Nothing so far, but-

Only after she was many streets away from the temple did she allow herself to stop and catch her breath.

This is madness! If Portia’s the one in the wrong, why am I the one who’s running away?

“Because you’re a coward, Astra,” she muttered to herself, “just as you told Tressa. Portia has the power to destroy you, and now you ve given her a reason!”

There had to be someplace to hide, even from the Master of Masters, if only long enough to make a plan…

Zanos! He’d know what to do. But he’s got so much to worry about right now, fighting that death match-

Of course! The arena! The last place a Reader would go, especially when blood sports were in progress!

As she approached her destination, the young Reader scanned the arena’s medical room. She was not surprised to find a male Magister Reader languishing there, closed to Reading to shut out the carnage going on above him. With any luck, his mind would stay closed, unable to Read any alert Portia might send out in an attempt to find Astra.

She focused her powers on the gladiators’ preparation rooms. There was Zanos, getting ready for his match. It had to be coming up soon. She would have to wait until the match was over.

If he survived-

But he has to win! He just has to. I need his help… I heed him.

The gates to the arena were closed, the seats filled to capacity. The tumultuous roar of the crowd was the loudest Astra had ever heard. She closed herself to Reading as best she could, concentrating on what to do next. Composing herself, she approached the men guarding the gate. “Medical emergency,” she said briskly. “Open the gates, please.”

Once admitted, she moved quickly to the ramp to the underground area. Above her, the excitement of the crowd was a great tent of mental energy, sheltering her-

An icy touch stabbed at her mind.

Portia!

“You cannot elude me so easily, child,” the Master of Masters told her.

“I’m not a child!” Astra countered, pressing her back against the tunnel wall and shutting her eyes in concentration.

“Nevertheless, I know what’s best for you. Come home, Astra. There is no place for you outside the Academy.”

“No! Let me alone!”

The icy touch became a pain, attacking her concentration. Portia was trying to bend her to her will, control her mind by projecting images of pain and fear.

Astra rejected them-but they became more in-

tense. She had no choice; she let herself slip down to the tunnel floor and broke free of the pain by leaving her body.

The bloodlust of the arena crowd was now a familiar horror, but there was a power in this collection of emotions that cried out to her frustration and fear. If she could control it, turn it against Portia-

“Astra, listen to me,” Portia demanded. “You don’t understand what you Read in the marriage cup-”

III Read more than just white lotus, Portia. I Read you-today, and when I was delirious in the infirmary.” The crowd’s fury brought out her own indignation, and her wild talent suddenly told her, “You Read me as I lay close to death, and I reminded you of Cassandra, my mother. You remembered the day of my birth, while she was still weak, her powers blunted-how you deceived her into thinking I was dead!”

Portia gave no reply, for none was necessary-Astra could Read past her shields now, Read everything she was thinking, every conspiracy-

Every murder.

Astra’s self-loathing at the way she had turned away from knowing what Portia was doing turned to anger against the Master of Masters.

“Why, Portia? Why did you try to make me part of your schemes?”

“You know why,” the old woman replied. “Child of two strong Masters-you are something unheard of in the history of the Reader system. At the peak of your powers, you could have become the strongest Master Reader who ever lived!”

“And you planned to use me to continue control over the Readers,” Astra realized. “You tried to make me your protege, but your plan had one flaw. You couldn’t take Cassandra’s place as my mother because you didn’t love me. You don’t know how to love-truly love-anybody!”

It was all there in Portia’s mind, open to Astra’s powers. The Master of Masters had been born into the Emperor’s family, the only person of royal lineage ever to develop a Reader’s powers. Once those powers were discovered, how anxious that family had been to pack her off to the Academy, away from the power they intrigued for.

Portia could not show love to Astra because it had never been shown to her.

But Astra had no time for sympathy. Knowing the past did not change the present, and the present could very well end in Astra’s death-for she now knew too much.

“Astra, return to your body,” Portia commanded. “Come back to the Academy and let me show you everything that is happening. You know only a few facts. Once you know all, you will understand why we must-

“Not “we”!” Astra told her. “I’m not one of your corrupt Masters, or one of your hired killers-like Vortius! He killed Master Quantus at your order! That was what you were afraid I’d Read in your office that day-the day you assigned me the arena as punishment!”

The death match in the arena was approaching its climax. The crowd rose to its feet, screaming for the death stroke. Waves of emotion crashed over both Readers, dragging them into an undertow of frenzy.

But both Master and Magister fought them off, locked in a battle of wills.

Suddenly Portia’s mind sought to grapple directly with Astra’s, to make her forget all she had learned about the conspiracy-

But the hypnotic techniques that worked on nonReaders could be eluded by another Reader-if she was strong enough.

For the first time in her life, Astra fought back, turning her anger outward instead of letting frustration eat at her from inside.

The crowd’s roar increased, the waves becoming a flood. They pounded Astra on one side as Portias attack bombarded her from another-she couldn’t fight them both!

Instinctively, she embraced the fury of the crowd, concentrated it through her own talent, and hurled it at Portia.

The Master could not retain her shields against such strength.

Astra’s hope stirred-Portia would leave the arena, return to her body at the Academy, and Astra would be able to escape.

But Portia had not climbed to her position or held it for so long by giving up.

Somehow, she fought off the bloodlust and threw it back at Astra.

But the younger woman was quick to learn. She opened to the frenzy, took its echo from Portia, combined phantom with reality-and hurled both together at the Master of Masters on the spear of a gladiator’s death agony.

Portia’s mental scream was lost in the din of the arena crowd. Astra felt her fall away from the conflict, Read her return to her own body, defeated… and just barely alive.

The crowd was cheering the victor, but Astra found no joy in her triumph.

Blessed gods! I was only defending myself! 1 didn’t want to kill her!

But a part of her was not so sure. How much of that bloodlust had belonged to the crowd… and how much was hers?

Astra Read Master Marina rush into Portia’s private chamber to discover the old woman unconscious.

Terrified that her emotions might reveal her presence, Astra withdrew from the scene. The return to her hastily abandoned body was agony. Every joint screamed as she rolled over onto her hands and knees, then slowly forced herself to her feet. She felt dizzy, but her mind was clearing. There was still no one else in the tunnel, thank the gods, so her body had been in no real danger.

But now all of me is in danger, she thought bitterly. If Portia recovers-

She hadn’t won anything. The Council of Masters and the Emperor would have her either exiled as a traitor-or executed as a threat to the state.

Oh, Zanos!

Almost involuntarily her mind reached out to find him in the arena, sword and shield at the ready, squaring off against his opponent.

Mallen was everything she had feared-bigger and heavier than Zanos, with black beard and hair so long that he looked like a savage. Astra Read both of them… and gasped as both men braced themselves-and became unReadable!

Mallen outsized him by half a head and considerable weight, but that didn’t bother Zanos. His main concern was how to put on a show for the spectators.

Despite his secret advantage, he must beware the unexpected. Any freak mishap could endanger him-

like twisting his ankle or letting Mallen past his guard in overconfidence. That was how he had received the wound he had relied on all these years as an excuse to protect his powers. Serafon had healed then what no Aventine healer could have… but she had no powers to raise the dead.

The babble of the spectators hushed with anticipation as the two fighters warily circled each other. The net in Mallen’s left hand didn’t bother Zanos as much as the trident in his opponents right. He had a mild contempt for spear weapons in arena combat, but its three deadly points couldn’t be ignored. Mallen had the look of a man confident of victory. That would soon be gone-but what was it about him that seemed vaguely familiar?

Mallen tested Zanos with several feints, using both seine and trident. Zanos obliged him by lightly dodging each move, gauging Mallen’s quickness. He’s fast for his size, Zanos thought, and saving his best moves for later.

He countered with several moves of his own, noting that Mallen didn’t backstep very smoothly. That meant a rush attack would-

Mallen leaped unexpectedly at Zanos, catching his sword blade between two trident points, swinging the net overhead in a wide arc.

It seemed to open like a giant hand, reaching out to grab Zanos’ head and shoulders.

He ducked under Mallen’s left arm and brought up his shield with a stiff-armed blow that connected with Mallen’s jaw, knocking him backwards as Zanos pulled his sword free.

“Very good, red-hair, ‘ Mallen said beneath the applause of the spectators. He smiled as his left fist wiped the blood off his lip and into his beard. “Very good indeed.”

Zanos’ eyes widened. Mallen had said those last three words in Maduran!

He studied Mallen’s face as they circled, dodging almost by reflex. Mallen smiled again-about to take Zanos’ head off with the trident.

Zanos let his powers deflect the weapon’s course, but the nearest point grazed his right temple.

He suppressed a cry more of surprise than pain, and spun away from the attack, following through with a sword swing at Mallen’s right side as the large man rushed past him. The blow bounced harmlessly off his opponent’s armor.

Zanos pulled himself together, putting his right thumb to the wound, Adeptly stopping the blood. He spoke Maduran to throw you off guard, he told himself, and it worked! A trick you don’t expect the rawest trainee to fall for. He couldn’t be from home-

Couldn’t he? As they squared off again, Zanos recalled his homeland before he had been kidnapped at the age of eight. There were stories about black-haired tribes who lived above the mountain snow line, fierce warriors who had once waged war against his people, and lost. He had accepted the stories as bedtime tales spun by his father for him and his younger brother. But they could be true-

Mallen charged again, swinging the net over his head like a whip. He’s very good with that thing, Zanos thought as he stepped forward, timing an attack to Mallen’s midsection.

Suddenly the net flew from Mallen’s hand. Once again it seemed to spread of its own accord. No one Zanos had ever seen could make it perform that way one-handed!

He couldn’t dodge the seine, so he concentrated, twisting the net into a smaller shape, batting it away with his shield.

But Mallen was on him with the trident, blocking out the sun. Shield met trident as Zanos aimed a thrust at Mallen’s left side, intending to wound him.

Sword tip bounced away from leather armor after striking solid air.

Zanos’ moment of puzzlement was just long enough for Mallen’s left fist to come down on his right shoulder, close to his neck. The blow nearly drove him to his knees-but from the advantage of his bent position, as Mallen prepared for a second blow, Zanos butted Mallen in the stomach with his head, knocking the wind out of him.

The crowd cheered for more, but each fighter was momentarily staggered, seeking to breathe and rest.

Zanos tested his tingling arm-his shoulder was bruised, but the collarbone had not broken.

Mallen’s youth gave his breath back quickly. He made a move toward his net.

/ can’t let him wear me down, Zanos realized. I’ll have to finish him off quickly, or he’ll simply outlast me. He jumped to cut Mallen off.

The black-haired giant laughed as he backstepped, shifting his trident to a two-handed grip. Using it like a quarterstaff, Mallen feinted twice, then swung the blunt end at Zanos’ ribs, under his guard. Zanos deflected the blow’s force, letting it barely touch him as he rolled away.

He’s playing with me. He thinks he can keep me running until I’m tired- but I have advantages he doesn’t know about.

He dodged another blow, came up with his sword- and distinctly felt the tug of something he could not see swing the blade away from Mallen’s unprotected thigh!

He’s countering with powers of his own!

“I thought so,” Mallen said softly. “From the moment I first heard about you, the great undefeated gladiator, I knew you had to be like me-a secret Adept. “

“Are you from Madura?” Zanos asked in his native tongue. By the gods-could this man be as eager to return home as Zanos was?

“Indeed, red-hair,” Mallen replied in the same language. He twirled the trident into an underhand grip, aiming the points at Zanos. “Unlike you, I came to this land as a man, and of my own free will, knowing I could prosper with my powers.”

“But why?” Zanos feinted a sword thrust, then retreated a step. “This is a land of evil!”

Mallen began circling him. “Our homeland is a place of greater evil! The meager powers you and I have are nothing to those of the rulers of Madura. To have stayed in the islands would have meant my death…

or something far worse,” he added, then spun and dived, shoulder-rolling past the net and coming up with it in his left hand, to the applause of the crowd.

Zanos cursed his carelessness, and felt something else. Fear. The fear he had not felt since his early days in the arena. For the first time since he had learned to control his powers, he was in a genuinely even match.

Or was it even? What if Mallen’s powers were stronger?

He didn’t want to kill Mallen-he wanted to ask him about Madura. What was happening there now?

Had anyone from his village survived the raid in which he had been taken-had it been rebuilt? Were there people who could teach him to use his Adept powers more efficiently? What were the terrible things being done by the present rulers?

All Zanos’ memories, even though they were from the perspective of a small boy, recalled a land benevolently ruled by powerful Adepts who called the rain but held off storms, to make their islands green and bountiful. Adepts who healed the sick and injured, and-at least so the children had whispered to one another-had learned the secret of life itself.

“Mallen-I must talk with you-”

“Talk!” The bigger man laughed, guarding himself with the trident as he shook out the seine. “You’re not going to talk to anybody, Zanos the Gladiator- you are going to die. You recognize where my powers come from. You cannot live to tell your friend the Emperor!”

An invisible fist clutched at Zanos’ heart. He staggered, using his own powers to ease the pressure and dissipate the pain-and saw in Mallen’s eyes that the man would do whatever was necessary to rid himself of the danger Zanos presented.

But neither of us can kill at a distance, or the spectators will get suspicious.

The crowd was screaming for action-any kind of action-furious that the two gladiators were still circling and feinting. They wanted blood. And they don’t care whose.

Sensing Mallen preparing to try for a deathblow, Zanos charge-attacked first, swinging his sword in wide arcs. Mallen set himself, riming Zanos’ approach as he poised his trident and flicked the net back and forth like a writhing snake.

Two steps from striking distance, Zanos drew his arm back for a prodigious swing that would take Mallen’s head from his shoulders.

As he felt Mallen’s powers start to deflect the blow, Zanos twisted his wrist and put Adept power behind his effort, guiding the blade past Mallen’s face and straight through the wooden shaft of the trident. His shoulder collided with Mallen’s chest, and the two men went down sprawling.

The crowd leaped to its feet, screaming as the fighters leaped up, a few paces apart.

Mallen now held just a wooden pole in his right hand, hefting it to find its new center of balance.

But Zanos was on his feet-ready to end this match now.

Mallen tossed the pole high over his head.

Expecting it was some Adept trick, Zanos followed its upward flight for a moment-just long enough for Mallen’s net to leap out and wrap itself around his sword.

As Zanos slashed at the net with the sharp edge, his sword hilt was suddenly too hot to handle!

His grip loosened by reflex, and Mallen’s net yanked the blade out of his hand. It landed at his opponent’s feet, and when Mallen picked it up it was obviously no longer hot.

He knows what to do with the powers he has! Zanos thought, and tried to apply his own powers to the sword-but Mallen broke his concentration with a frenzied assault, discarding the net to use a two-handed grip on the sword, battering away at Zanos’ shield.

The screams of the spectators became deafening as they sensed the approaching climax-and the crowning of a new champion.

/ won’t give in! Zanos thought as he deflected blow after blow, slowly retreating beneath Mallen’s onslaught. He set himself and charged Mallen with the shield, but succeeded only in throwing him back a step.

The crowd cheered Zanos’ bravery, but it was clear they thought he had lost.

It was not in him to accept defeat!

Again he struck at Mallen with the shield-only to be driven back once more, until his foot struck something half-buried in the sand-

Deliberately, he fell to one knee, giving Mallen the advantage. The crowd shrieked anticipation.

Using a lateral swing, Mallen knocked the shield from Zanos’ grip, sending him sprawling. With a cry of triumph, Mallen towered over him, sword raised for the death stroke as Zanos scrambled to his knees-

Mallen’s victory cry became a scream of pain as Zanos’ clasped hands came up right where his armor separated when he raised his arms-

The sword fell as Mallen clutched futilely at the cut-off shaft of the trident head now sticking out of his chest.

Zanos backed off as Mallen sank to his knees, blood spurting from chest and mouth.

For one long moment, a look passed between the two men. Then one slowly fell on his side as the other rose to his feet.

Zanos stared at the corpse for a long time, only slowly becoming aware of the cheers from the stands all around him. He looked, unseeing, at the blood on his hands, and then at the nodding smile of the Emperor.

Feeling numb and very tired, the Maduran bowed for the last time to the leader of his captors as they cheered the undefeated champion… cheered his first true arena victory.

Zanos was besieged with congratulations and offers to buy him victory drinks before he even reached the medical room. Some of his fighters had to clear a path for him and keep out the well-wishers while he was being examined.

The stiff silence of the Reader who cleansed and

bandaged his wounds was a welcome relief. Zanos waited until he and two of his men were leaving the stadium before allowing himself to think about Astra, let himself wonder where she was and when she’d hear about his victory. Part of him wished she were here to share his joy, but that would have to wait until tomorrow, after he’d recovered his strength through a good meal and a long night of healing sleep.

He hadn’t seen Ard since the match began, just after he’d entrusted his servant with his personal seal and the gold for wagering.

“No need to worry, Master,” Aeson said. “As soon as you won, Ard went to collect your winnings.

Salamis and Massos are helping him carry all that gold back to your villa. Not a legion of thieves would dare try to rob them]”

Fine. Zanos could trust Ard to see he wasn’t cheated. Soon Ard and Lanna would no longer be his servants, but fellow countrymen, journeying back to Madura with him. He could hardly wait till it was safe to tell them of his powers-but not until they were all on board the ship he would soon own, with the empire at their backs. Tomorrow, he thought with satisfaction, / can start turning my dream into a real plan for getting out of here.

And he deliberately put out of his mind Mallen’s description of Madura.

A victorious gladiator, especially one who had received no serious injury, was expected to celebrate..

Zanos usually enjoyed such parties, but today’s combat had drained his Adept energies more than he had first realized. By the time he had made a brief appearance at his third party, he was fighting heavy fatigue, moving little better than a sleepwalker.

Some of the partygoers made jokes about the gladiator having too much wine, but he had drunk no more than a swallow or two, while restraining himself from eating more than his share of the food set out. He was content to let them believe what they wanted as he stumbled toward his villa, supported by two of his fighters. His home was almost in sight when a mob of his friends seemed to descend out of nowhere, sweeping him along to the house of Gareth, one of the other stable owners.

Despite his weary protests, he was put in a thronelike chair at the head of a table. It was all he could do to stay awake and acknowledge the praise heaped upon him by those who’d won heavily on his victory.

Eventually he became aware of a new group of guests-Morella and her girls, wearing their prettiest clothes and best painted faces.

The party quickly turned to something approaching an orgy, giving Zanos the perfect excuse to make his exit. Standing up, however, proved to be a little difficult, and the door seemed a hundred miles away.

Morella and one of her girls appeared beside him, each slipping under one of his arms to give him the support he needed. Morella made some joke about a sleepy little boy needing to be put to bed, and he managed a weak smile as they drifted out of the noisy warmth of Gareth’s house and into the quiet coolness of the street.

Some time later, he was lowered into his bed and his sandals removed. It felt good to have such friends- but they weren’t his usual friends. They smelled too good.

Was he in danger? No… but still something felt… wrong… somewhere in his world.

Whatever it was, it would have to wait until morning. A light blanket slowly settled over his torso as his last strength faded, lowering him into dreamless sleep.

“By Mawort’s golden blade!”

Zanos’ swearing woke Astra from her fitful sleep. As she sat up in the gladiator’s bed, he jumped out of it. She could Read guilty fear in him, then puzzlement as he realized that he was still fully dressed, and so was she-

As a prostitute.

“Astra?” He became unReadable again as he squinted at her painted face. “Is that you?”

“Yes, Zanos,” she said solemnly. “I’m sorry I startled you. I forgot about this stuff on my face. I didn’t expect to fall asleep, but I lay down here because I was almost as weary as you were. Morella and I all but carried you here from Gareth’s house.”

“But what are you doing here?” he demanded. “And why are you dressed like that?”

“I had no place else to go. My life as a Reader is over.”

Zanos sat down on the edge of the bed, facing her, as she told him what she had discovered at Tressa’s wedding.

“White lotus?” he asked. “Given to a Reader? But Astra, it just doesn’t make sense to addict all the Readers on the Path of the Dark Moon-there isn’t enough of the stuff in the whole empire to serve the craving of so many people. I could understand addicting your friend if she were not being failed-if she were going to be forced to do someone’s dirty work, like Darien and Primus.”

Astra did not correct his assumption that Tressa was her friend-if it hadn’t been for Astra’s cowardice, by this time she should have been. Instead…

“It wasn’t the addictive form,” she explained.

“What?” Zanos asked in obvious confusion. “White lotus is the most addictive drug I know of.”

“Yes, in the form distilled directly from the plant. But I learned in my medical training about derivatives which retain the power to make a patient highly suggestible, but cause no later craving. They are used to treat patients, with, mind sickness.. I had. only the most basic of such training, as my talents lie in music, not healing-but I did learn about the existence of such drugs. Zanos, right now I’m not certain how much I learned from Portia’s mind and how much I have pieced together, but this is what I know:

“Sometimes Readers who fail to reach the highest ranks are given a white lotus derivative in their marriage wine. The Master Reader performing the ceremony then implants the suggestion not only that husband and wife will be completely happy with one another, but that their Reading powers will be permanently reduced when they consummate their marriage.”

“You mean without drugs they’re not?” he asked in shock.

“Yes, they are-or I think they are. But how much or how permanently, I don’t know. Zanos, they’re failing Master Readers with years of experience. That’s not the way the Academy system is supposed to operate-but it’s happening. Even supposing the effect of consummating a marriage were to reduce the powers of a Master to those of a Magister Reader- those are still highly significant powers! Such a person, resentful of what had happened, could be a serious threat to the Council of Masters.”

“I see,” Zanos said, fingering the stubble of beard on his chin. “So they make certain such strong Readers do lose most of their powers.” He shuddered. “They deliberately cripple them, as some people will lame a slave to keep him from running away.

Astra nodded. “I have another piece of information, from years ago-before the corruption in the Council of Masters, I think. My mother was not married to my father. Her powers were so diminished by my birth that Portia was able to make her think her baby had died-yet she recovered enough within a few days to escape from an Academy full of Readers. In fact, she vanished so thoroughly that she was never found. Neither was my father.”

“That’s what Portia told you,” Zanos said flatly. “I don’t want to hurt you, Astra-but isn’t it more likely that they were quietly… executed?”

“No!” she protested. “No-that’s one of the things I Read from Portia. They escaped across the border.

I suppose… that means if they were ever discovered to be Readers the savages killed them. But maybe they’re still alive out there somewhere-maybe they escaped beyond the savage lands to the north, and found some other part of the world where Readers are treated kindly. At least I’d like to think so.”

He smiled gently. “I hope you’re right. But how could you have learned so much from Portia’s mind?

Surely the Master of Masters doesn’t leave her thoughts open for a Magister Reader to eavesdrop on? “

Lowering her eyes, she described her battle with the Master of Masters, ashamed now of how viciously she had struck out at the old woman, yet still unable to think of any other way she could have saved herself. “I’m gambling that Portia won’t regain consciousness for hours,” she said. “The fact that I’m still alive and free means that I was right. But when she wakens she’ll either alert the entire Reader system to find me, or send out Vortius and his killers!”

“Or both,” muttered Zanos. But then he put a reassuring hand on her shoulder. “Don’t worry. I’ll find a way to protect you. Now I see why you’re dressed like that-you figured that one of Morella’s girls going home with me wouldn’t draw any attention.” A wry smile curved his lips. “I’ll tell you the irony of that some other time. Right now, we must get you out of Tiberium-”

“No, Zanos. It’s much more complicated than that.”

“I know. You have to get out of the empire entirely. And yes, Astra, there are places beyond the lands of the savages. Thanks to my winnings from yesterday’s match, I’ll soon leave this land too. Come with me and my friends. We’ll find a way to hide you for the week or so-”

“That’s what I’m trying to tell you! You don’t have a week or so. You have to get out of the empire this very day, before some other Reader scans you!”

He slowly withdrew his hand from her shoulder. “What are you saying?” he asked, a cold, deadly tone in his voice. Astra was suddenly aware that this man had made a career of killing people.

This was the moment she had dreaded. She grasped his retreating hand and held it tightly. “Zanos, please… hear me out. I Read your match with Mallen- and I discovered the secret you two shared. I thanked every god in the universe when you defeated him… and only then thought to wonder if you were an Adept spy for the savages. ” His hand closed painfully on hers, but she continued with forced calm, “I know you can’t be.”

“What makes you so sure?”

“The savages hate and fear all Readers they don’t control. If you were one of them, you wouldn’t have jeopardized your mission by using your powers to save my life when I was so ill.” His grip on her hand eased, and she could almost have laughed at the surprise on his face.

“Yes, ‘ she told him, “I recognized you. I dreamed about the Sun God, but when I discovered that you had Adept powers, I realized that the god with the flaming hair in my delirium was you. And only someone who cared about me would risk using such powers where any one of a hundred Readers could have discovered and exposed him.” Astra gently pressed his hand against her cheek. “Thank you, ” she whispered.

Zanos shook his head, smiling at her. “I always feared somebody would discover my secret, and could never imagine what would happen next. But you’re not just anybody. You’ve become the most important person in the world to me. When I heard that you were so ill, I could not stay away-not when I knew I could heal you.” lean Lorrah Winston A. Howlett

“I know,” she replied. “Now it’s my turn to help you. Something happened during your match with Mallen. By the time it was over, whatever trick you’d been using to hide your powers stopped working.

You remained unReadable. The gods were smiling on you, for the Magister in the medical room only Read your wounds. I was carefully Reading him all the time you were in there, but there was nothing I could have done if he had tried to scan your thoughts-”

“He must have been a friend of Darien and Primus.” Zanos shrugged. “He didn’t even want to look at me, much less treat my injuries. But now that I’ve had a night’s sleep to recover my strength-”

“You’re still unReadable, Zanos. There was only one moment when you woke up,” she told him, “when I could catch your feelings-and then it blanked out. What happened in the arena yesterday somehow changed you-increased your powers beyond your ability to hide them. If any Reader-even one on the Path of the Dark Moon-were to try to Read you right now, your secret would be out.”

“And I’d have to fight off a mob to get out of the city, ‘ he concluded. “But there has to be something we can do. I need time to finish the deal with the owner of the Nightwind.”

“A merchant ship?”

“A smuggler’s ship, actually. War or no war, the Emperor still needs fishing ships for his food and smuggling ships to get him soap and spices. That’s why certain vessels have not been conscripted for the invasion fleet. The Nightwind’s owner has had money problems lately, and is open to accepting a rather large bribe-”

A worried look crossed his face as he stopped.

“What’s wrong?” she asked.

“I just realized what was strange when you and Morella put me to bed last night.” He went to the door and opened it. “Ard! Lanna!”

There was no reply. Astra Read throughout the villa, and found no one. When she told Zanos, he asked,

“Did you see either of them last night?”

“Ard let us in. I’m sure he didn’t recognize me, although he did stare-but I don’t remember seeing Lanna.”

Muttering an oath, Zanos strode to the bedroom’s west wall. It was painted with a mural of birds in flight, divided into panels. Zanos pressed two spots in one panel and it instantly sprang open, revealing a closetlike hiding place.

He let out a long breath, obviously relieved as he pulled out a small wooden chest, one of three hidden there. “For a moment I was afraid that Ard had betrayed me and run off with my winnings,” he said as he lifted the heavy box to a small table. “And I’ve always been afraid that one of Vortius’ corrupt Readers would locate that secret panel. “

A sudden pounding at the front door drew Astra’s attention away from the chest. She Read through the door-and gasped as she recognized, “It’s Vortius!”

“What’s he doing here?” Zanos asked, already heading out of the room.

“Zanos-”

“Yes, I know,” he said, putting a silencing finger to his lips as he pulled the door shut behind him. With her inner vision, Astra followed him to the front door and watched him admit Vortius, his two bodyguards, and a middle-aged man in the robes of a magistrate. Zanos welcomed the official with a measure of respect, ignoring the gambler and his two thugs.

“I’ll come straight to the point, Zanos,” said the magistrate. “Vortius claims you are unable or unwilling to pay off the gambling debt you incurred yesterday. He says you owe him nine hundred gold marks.”

“Is this some kind of joke?” Zanos shot an angry look at the smug gambler. “I don’t owe you a thing.”

“You can’t lie your way out of it, Zanos,” Vortius

retorted, pulling documents out of the folds of his cloak. “You wagered one thousand marks on the outcome of your match yesterday, but put up only a hundred marks at the gambling center. That is permitted, but now you must pay the rest.”

“Now I know you’ve gone insane!” Zanos exclaimed. “First of all, I bet only one hundred marks, and second, I won’t”

“Yes, I know you won,” the magistrate said, “which puzzles me all the more. Why did you wager against yourself?”

Zanos snatched the documents from Vortius’ hands. Astra bit her lower lip as she Read the unbelievable: a wagering agreement between Zanos and Vortius for one thousand gold marks-on Malien. The line for the bettor’s identification bore the mark of Zanos’ personal seal.

“Forgery!” the gladiator exclaimed. “This is fraud-”

“On the contrary,” said the magistrate, “I was witness to the transaction; your manservant made this wager as he always does, and finalized it with your seal. You did entrust him to place that bet for you?”

“Not that bet! Not against me! Why would I bet against myself in a death match?”

“Oh, come now, Zarios,” Vortius sneered. “It’s happened before: the heavy favorite makes a deal with his opponent. The favorite is ‘defeated’ with a slight wound, and he and his friends get rich by betting against him. You were the clear favorite yesterday, but something must have gone wrong between you and Malien. You were forced to change your plans and kill-”

“That’s a lie!” Zanos declared.

None of this makes sense, Astra thought. ” Zanos “lost” the bet, then what’s in these-?

Rocks! Incredulously, Astra Read that the chest on the table was filled not with gold, but with stones. So were the other two. Ard betrayed him, she realized, feeling sick. Oh, Zanos…

“You know the gambling laws, Zanos,” the magistrate was saying. “If you cannot pay the debt by noon today, then the state will seize your properties and turn them over to Vortius, after the appropriate taxes have been deducted. And if the assessments show that the value of your properties does not fully cover the debt-”

“-which I’m sure it doesn’t,” Vortius put in.

“-then you will be turned over to Vortius as his bondservant, to work off the rest.”

Zanos tore apart the documents and made a leap for Vortius’ throat. The two bodyguards grabbed the gladiator’s arms, barely able to restrain him.

“Zanos, no!” Astra projected, even though she knew he couldn’t receive her thoughts. If Zanos unleased his powers on four men, including a government official, that mob he feared might consist of half the empire!

For a few brief moments, Zanos became Readable, and Astra could sense his struggle to regain his composure.

“Bondservant!” he spat. “That’s just another word for slavel I’ll never be your slave, Vortius!”

“You will do as the law directs.” The gambler smiled. “Or you will find yourself sold into the galleys.

Besides, working for me is not so bad. I can be quite generous. After all, I could have pressed my claim last night, and spoiled your celebration.”

That’s a lie, Astra’s powers told her. Vortius had to be someplace else last night, and couldn’t have pressed his claim, even if he’d wanted to.

But where had he been? She knew that the answer to that question was very important, but Vortius annoyingly would not think of it so she could Read it.

“You have three hours to get your affairs in order, Zanos,” the magistrate said. “We will return at noon, and if you do not have the money at hand, all that

you own-including your stable of fighters-will be confiscated.”

The magistrate left, followed by the gambler. The two thugs released Zanos and followed their master out the door. The gladiator slammed it shut behind them, then closed his eyes and pressed his forehead against it, not moving… not even when Astra approached and gingerly touched his shoulder.

“There’s no gold in those chests, is there?” he asked.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “There must be something I can do to help-”

Zanos whirled around, glaring at the bedroom. The small bedside table exploded into pieces, sending the wooden chest crashing to the floor. It split open on impact, spilling stones in all directions.

“Zanos, please! Calm down!”

Slowly the anger drained from his face. “Let’s sit down,” he said. “I’ve got to think.”

They sat in the kitchen, for Zanos suddenly realized that he was very hungry, a delayed reaction from yesterday. He consumed eggs, bread, cheese, fruit-anything that didn’t take much preparation. Astra sat across from him, nibbling on a piece of cheese while she stared at him intently.

As he satisfied his body’s needs, his mind ran in circles, searching for a way to pick up the pieces of his shattered dream.

“Why do you have to bribe the captain of the Nightwind?” Astra interrupted his thoughts. “Cant you just buy a passage on a merchant ship headed north?”

He shook his head. “One of the things I hate most about this empire is that freedmen have different laws than natural-born citizens. A freedman is not allowed to leave the empire without applying for permission and proving that his business is not to go home. If former slaves could reach their homelands, they might reveal some of the slavers’ kidnapping tricks, and make it more difficult to obtain slaves for the empire. A freedman can’t even become a merchant sailor or fisherman unless he has a family in the empire-in other words, hostages-to make sure he remains a loyal citizen.

“Besides, I don’t have any money now. And all the ships of honest merchants are part of the war fleet, launching in a day or two.” He slammed the table with his fist. “I can’t believe that Ard and Lanna would do this to me! In less than a month, they would’ve been free and on their way back home.”

“Perhaps Vortius threatened them into betraying you,” Astra suggested.

“No. Ard created the pretense of safeguarding my ‘winnings.’ My trust allowed him to get away with it.

He arranged things so that there would be plenty of time for him and Lanna to flee-probably to Vortius’

town house.” He let out a short, angry laugh. “When I woke up this morning, I thought I had about a week left to my enslavement in this land. Then you told me I had to reduce it to less than a day. Now, thanks to Vortius, I have less than three hours to get you, me, and my friends out of Tiberium.”

“But where will we go?” she asked.

“North. Across the border and through the savage lands. The border is four days’ ride from here. By the time we cross it, the Aventine army will be invading the savages’ west coast. The Adepts will be too busy moving against them to worry about our little group. We should be able to avoid the battleground and reach a port in the far north. Once we get there, we’ll do whatever is necessary to get on a ship to Madura… What’s wrong?” he asked at the strange look on Astra’s face.

“I–I guess I’m just finding it hard to believe this is happening. I cant go back to the Academy; I have to go with you. I never dreamed of any man wanting me-”

He reached across the table for her hand. “I want you and need you, Astra. Even without the danger to our lives and freedom, I couldn’t have left without you. ” He realized this even as he spoke, hoping she could Read how true it was. “But I can’t let you come without knowing that the greatest dangers may face us when we reach our destination.” He started to tell her what Mallen had said in the arena.

“Yes, I Read both of you during the combat, and could make out most of what you were saying,” she said. “What do you think he meant by a ‘great evil’ forcing him to leave Madura rather than face death or

‘something far worse?”

“I don’t know. It could mean a number of things, including slavery, ” he said. “But I believe that renegade Portia confronted was right-there’s nothing we can’t do, combining our powers.” He wondered, suddenly, if she understood just how he yearned to “combine” with her. And whether she had heard the rumors he had deliberately spread…

What if her idea of their relationship was considerably different from his?

“Astra,” he began, “like you, I’ve had to remain celibate in order to protect my special abilities. When people noticed that I didn’t celebrate my victories like most gladiators, I… invented an excuse. I let it be known that a wound I received early in my arena career had left me impotent.”

Astra nodded. “I heard that story, and believed it… until that day I watched you training for the match.

You were so strong, so appealing, that I…” She blushed a deep scarlet, unable to look at him. “I Read you. Thoroughly.”

Zanos laughed, a good hearty laugh that helped to ease his pain. He came around the table, gently lifted Astra to her feet, and hugged her.

“And when I discovered the truth,” she added as she let her arms slide around him, “I didn’t know what to think.”

“No, but I can imagine,” he chuckled. It felt so good to have someone with whom he could share his secrets besides-

Serafon! By Mawort, he’d nearly forgotten that he had to get to her, tell her that all their plans had been upset!

“What’s wrong?” Astra asked at his sudden sobriety.

“Nothing. It’s just that we have much to do and very little time in which to do it.” He gently touched her cheeks and looked into her eyes. “Astra, you never actually said that you would come with me, face the dangers-”

“Oh, yes, my love.” She smiled. “I’ll journey with you to the ends of the world and beyond, and face the dark gods themselves if they should stand in our way!”

He kissed her then, for the first time-and as she clung to him he felt a kind of strength he’d never before experienced. Over the years, he had eased his natural yearnings by convincing himself that love was, for him, a dangerous weakness. He was glad to discover he’d been wrong.

They spent the next hour hurriedly packing what they thought they would need for the journey. Zanos’

plan now called for nine people to travel together- Astra, Serafon, Zanos, and his six fighters. Astra pointed out that the larder held not a day’s supply of food for so many.

“And who is Serafon?” she asked.

“High priestess of the Temple of Hesta,” Zanos replied. “Like me, she’s an Adept, but her powers are strongest ‘in the realm of nature,’ as she puts it. For many years, she’s been secretly helping the farmers around Tiberium, doing what she can to change the weather in their favor. She knows more about living off the land than the rangers of the deep forests. Without her guidance, I would have been dead long ago-executed for trying to escape, or exposed as an Adept.”

“But how did-” Astra stopped in midsentence, staring at something beyond the villa wall. “Zanos, we’re being watched. An old man in the alley across the street. He’s pretending to be asleep, but he’s watching this house!”

Zanos slid over to a front window and peeked through the shutter. “That’s Varan,” he muttered. “Looks like I owe you an apology-you were right that Varan frightened Clea into running away. Vortius is using him to deliver messages now-and his message to me is that I am being watched.”

“No,” the Reader said as she moved close to him, keeping clear of the window. “Vortius is punishing him with assignments like this because he said something to Clea-he let slip that he’s associated with Vortius! Vortius wanted to use Clea again, but she ran the moment Varan tried to approach her-he’s thinking right now about how he didn’t handle her right… because Morella’s coming up the street!

Phaeru’s with her, and they’re coming here.”

Zanos concentrated in Varan’s direction for a moment, and the old man slumped over. “Now he really is asleep,” he said, “and will stay that way for quite a while. Tell me-how did you get Morella and her girls to help you disguise yourself for Gareth’s party last night?”

“I told her our lives were in danger, and that I had to speak with you without Vortius knowing about it.

Morella hates Vortius as much as you do, but she has to deal with him and his men anyway. When she told her girls that you were in danger, they immediately volunteered to help. Morella knew about Gareth’s party, and he certainly didn’t object to some of her girls helping to keep his guests happy.”

When Morella knocked at the door, Zanos was already moving to let her in. Both Morella and Phaeru had been crying, but he waited for them to tell him what was wrong.

“Astra told me what you and your girls did to help us last night, ‘ he said as he led them to the music room. “I don’t know how to thank you.”

“Friends help friends, Zanos.” She looked at Astra, then back at him. “It’s all over The Maze that Vortius is claiming your property and freedom for gambling debts-I take it he somehow cheated you?”

“Somehow,” Zanos replied.

“That viper! He’s got all the local law in his pocket-I hope you’re planning to run rather than try to fight him. Astra, we brought you some clothes suitable for traveling. I know you can’t go back to your Academy-”

“How did you know?” she asked.

“Readers aren’t the only ones who know things-as soon as I heard about Vortius and Zanos, I realized that you’d been caught in that corruption trying to help your friend. And you’re not the first I’ve helped escape enemies in Tiberium. ” Tears welled up in Morella’s eyes. “I only wish Clea had trusted me to help her this time!”

“Clea?” asked Zanos. “You know where she is?”

“Word reached me this morning. Yesterday, a farmer in the southlands was tilling his field for spring planting. He found her… remains. She’s been dead for weeks-had to be identified by the rings she was so fond of wearing.”

Phaeru turned away with a choked sob.

“She must have been trying to go home-her parents’ home is the southlands,” Morella went on. “If I could get my hands on the monster who caught up with her-”

“I’m sorry,” Astra whispered, remembering Clea’s courage in breaking her addiction to white lotus.

“I wish we could do something to help, ” Zanos added.

“The best thing you two can do is get out of this

corrupt land,” Morella said firmly. “Now tell me what Phaeru and I can do to help.”

“And just what kind of help are they giving you?” Serafon asked.

“I gave them what money I had left,” Zanos told her. “They’re buying us horses and supplies. I don’t know what to do about my fighters-”

“Don’t worry about them,” the high priestess said. “They’re happy as gladiators. If you had been able to free them, you would have done better to encourage them to join the army, for the chance to gain glory in battle. None of your fighters are from Madura, Zanos. All along, you’ve failed to consider that living in the far north might not suit those not born there. I was hoping you would come to realize that.”

Zanos swallowed hard. “Meaning that you would prefer to stay here-and that I shouldn’t take Astra?”

“I’m too old to make such changes in my life. Even if I survived the journey, I’m too old to start life over in a strange land. ” She turned to look at Astra, who had been listening without comment. “And I only partly understand why you are so willing to go with him.”

The Reader gave that smile which so intrigued Zanos. “With all due respect, Priestess Serafon, I think you do understand. You have loved and helped Zanos for most of his life. My feelings are very similar, and just as deep.” She linked her arm with his, and he let their fingers intertwine as she continued, “I’ve already told him that I am willing to go anywhere with him, share any danger that threatens him-”

“And risk losing your powers?” Serafon asked.

“We have discussed that,” Zanos said. “Since we don’t know what enemies we may face in Madura, we will remain celibate until we find a place that is safe to live in. We will consummate our love only after we are wed to one another in a proper Maduran ceremony.”

“Which you may not live to see, if you leave here unprepared,” the priestess said firmly. “There are so many things I wish I could explain. I have never had a husband, but I have married many couples, and seen the changes that happen to them in a brief space of time. But with the powers you two possess-

Zanos, I have only one piece of counsel for you, and Astra, I would like to give you Hesta’s blessing. Let me marry you, in the temple, right now. I cannot expect you to understand fully why I must do this, but as the two of you grow to become one, the meaning will become clear.”

Zanos was puzzled, but never in his life had Serafon given him bad advice. A glance at Astra told him that she was willing to do as he chose.

Without another word, they followed the high priestess into the main temple.

The ceremony was brief and simple, involving only the three of them. Other priestesses watched the ritual from a distance, but there was no reason for them to interfere.

Serafon added her personal blessing to the closing prayer, then dramatically spread her arms and commanded Zanos and Astra to rise from their kneeling position. A feeling of joyful disbelief touched Zanos as he hugged his wife and-

“Stop this ceremony!”

Vortius’ voice rang through the temple like a mourning bell. The three at the altar looked around to see the gambler stalking toward them, closely followed by the same city magistrate and half a dozen guards.

“What is the meaning of this intrusion?” Serafon demanded with the full weight of her religious authority.

Her hand settled lightly on Zanos’ shoulder, and he knew she was signaling him to remain silent. Astra’s powers must have warned her to do the same.

“Forgive us, High Priestess,” the magistrate puffed as they approached the altar, “but this couple cannot be married. Zanos’ gambling debts have lost him that right until he has made restitution. That is the law.”

“And this is an old trick, Zanos!” Vortius exclaimed. “Trying to escape servitude by marrying a free citizen. Well, it won’t work! Aventine law does not protect you in this instance-and certainly one of Morella’s girls brings no dowry to-” His arrogant expression changed, his words trailing off as he stared at Astra’s face. He seemed to be trying to place her, and looked greatly puzzled.

The magistrate, though, was only performing his duty. “Unless you have the money, here and now, Zanos, you must come with us to Debtor’s Court, so that justice may be served.”

Zanos wanted to laugh at his choice of words, but could only bring himself to show a contemptuous smile. It would be so simple to stop Vortius’ heart-

Serafon’s hand gripped his shoulder in warning, and the plea in Astra’s eyes required no Reading power to understand. Zanos forced down his anger and wordlessly surrendered himself to the city guard. Let them think they had him; his powers would take him from whatever custody they locked him into, at the first chance to escape without detection. But Astra-

As they led him away, he tried something he had never done before. He projected his thoughts with the greatest intensity he could muster: Astra, don’t worry. I’ll get away from them. Take the horses.

When you reach the border station on the Road of Kings, I will be one day behind you. Do you understand?

Astra nodded, her worried look easing. He smiled at his wife, then turned away to allow himself to be escorted out of the temple.

The four days that Astra spent on horseback, leading the two horses packed with the possessions she and Zanos shared, went by in a long gray blur. She slept in barns, stealing away before the farmers rose at dawn. Anticipation of being reunited with her husband buoyed her spirits, even though she could not detect his presence when she Read back behind her on the Road of Kings.

She camped about a mile from the border station, well off the road. A day passed. Another. And then a third.

Surely she couldn’t have missed him! And he wouldn’t go on without her. He wouldn’t!

By the morning of the fourth day, she had become desperate enough to search for Zanos out of body. At last, she detected his presence-two miles away, on a different road, approaching a different border station.

He was part of a caravan of over two dozen people-a caravan led by Vortius. And as Astra Read them, she found most of them with the dull, blunted contentment of those locked in the grip of white lotus addiction.

And… Zanos was one of them!

Vortius now truly owned him, body and soul!