The Darkness Before the Dawn

Chapter Five

They had arrived from the south, climbing over piles of rubble for hours to reach the heart of the city. Now Kitarak led them westward along pathways he and others had cleared, and they reached the rocky plain beyond its edge in half that time. Turning to survey the ruins behind them, Jedra felt an immense sadness sweep through him. At one time, millennia ago, this had been a thriving center of life for thousands of people. What catastrophe had put an end to it? He would probably never know. But he would always know what had finished it off. The memory of all those high towers crashing to the ground would haunt him forever.

Nothing of value had survived. They had checked to be sure, but Kitarak had been right; the wellhead had been buried under tons of stone blocks. It would take hundreds of people with levers and ropes to dig down to it, and the likelihood that any of the pumping machinery had survived was practically nil. And without a water source, not even scavengers would come anymore. The city now belonged totally to the desert.

Kitarak turned away without a word and led the way into the vast rocky plain. He took long, slow strides, covering eight or ten feet at a time. Jedra and Kayan took three or four steps for every one of his, and soon they were puffing and panting to keep up.

Jedra had refused Kayan's offer to heal his leg where it had been cut by the flying debris. It was only a surface wound over the calf muscle; he could let it heal naturally rather than tire her out. He almost wished he had let her do it, because the salt in his sweat was making it sting like crazy. His other muscles were complaining just as badly, though. "You've got to slow down," he finally gasped. "We're not going to make it another mile at this pace."

"I don't care," said Jedra. "We can't walk this fast."

The tohr-kreen rasped his arms against his thorax again. Jedra was growing certain that was his way of showing agitation. "Can't your psionic power give you more endurance?" Kitarak asked.

"No," Jedra said. "At least I don't think so. Kayan?"

She was bent over, hands on her knees. She shook her head without looking up. "No, it can't. Maybe for a little while, but we'd just tire out even faster in the long run."

"How about levitation? Can't you lift and move yourselves with the same force you used to level the city?"

"I don't think that would get us much farther either," she said, straightening up. "We can explore mentally, but we always come back to where we started. Our bodies never go anywhere in the first place."

"Hmm," Kitarak buzzed. "This power of yours doesn't seem very useful for practical things."

"That's why we're looking for a mentor," Jedra said. "Somebody who can help us learn how to... ah... do more with it." He didn't want to admit that it was out of control most times.

"Toward what end?"

The question caught Jedra by surprise. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, what do you want to use the power for?"

"I don't know," Jedra said. "How about levitation, for starters?"

"Very good," Kitarak said. "Clever." He turned away and began walking again, but more slowly.

Over his spiny shoulder, he said, "What else can you do, besides push buildings over?"

How much do we want to tell him? Jedra mindsent to Kayan.

Don't let him know we can communicate without speaking, she sent back. Or mind-merge. We may need the advantage if he's not what he seems.

I agree.

Kitarak was waiting for an answer. Apparently he could see ahead and back at the same time; he didn't stop walking, but he didn't turn his head forward again, either. Aloud, Jedra said, "I can sometimes tell when people are watching me. Especially if they're a threat."

"That sounds useful," Kitarak said. It was hard to tell when his voice carried sarcasm, but he seemed sincere this time. "Anything else?"

Kayan said, "I can heal most wounds, if they're not immediately fatal."

"That definitely sounds useful. Can you heal a tohr-kreen?"

"I don't know. You want to hurt yourself and find out?"

Kitarak actually seemed to consider it. He tilted his head from side to side and rattled his mandibles like a person clicking his tongue. "No," he said at last. "Advance knowledge might lead to foolish risk-taking. I will proceed on the assumption that you cannot, and hope to be pleasantly surprised if I need your services." "Good idea," said Kayan.

"Of course." Kitarak said nothing more for a few minutes, merely turned his head to the front again and hiked on through the rocks at his steady pace. Now that he had slowed down, Jedra was glad to follow his lead; he didn't like being first in line through unfamiliar territory. But the tohr-kreen wasn't through. He turned his head back again and said, "Do you lust for power?"

This time it was Kayan who said, "What?"

"In my experience, there are two reasons for seeking knowledge," Kitarak said. "Simple curiosity and thirst for understanding is one, and lust for the power that knowledge can bring is the other. Which is your reason for seeking a mentor?"

"I-don't think it's either one," Kayan said.

"Neither one! How can that be?"

"I've already got the power," Kayan said. "I just want to find out how to use it better."

Kitarak clicked excitedly. "Aha, you dodge the question. Why do you want to use it better?"

"Because!" Kayan said in exasperation. "I don't like being ignorant. It's frustrating and it's dangerous."

"Good," Kitarak said. "Indeed, a little knowledge is a dangerous thing. You have a certain wisdom about you. It's crude and unpolished from too little introspection, but you do understand the basic issue. How about you, young Jedra? What are your reasons for seeking a mentor?"

"Power," Jedra said immediately. "Greed. I want to rule all of Athas with an iron fist."

"Do not take up gambling. You lie poorly," Kitarak said, but he turned away and left Jedra alone, which was what Jedra wanted.

All the same, as they hiked on toward the afternoon sun the tohr-kreen's question hung in his mind. Why did he want to learn more about psionics? It wasn't just because his power was dangerous; he could simply stop using it if that were the case. No, there was definitely an allure to it that kept him coming back. Especially when he and Kayan joined minds. Every time they had done so it was because of some emergency or other, but he yearned for the time when they could do it for the sheer joy of the union. To share their thoughts and their emotions-to share everything that made them who and what they were-without fear of repercussions.

Even after he'd met Kayan, he hadn't thought of love. Circumstance had made them traveling companions, even bondmates, but even so they hardly knew each other. Could they... ?

No, their attraction was purely mental. It couldn't be love.

Then he remembered the kiss their first night alone in the desert, and the one the following day. How could he have forgotten that? He'd seen enough in his years on the street to know that a kiss-or even much more than that-didn't mean someone was in love, but it was one more piece of evidence in a growing list. He and Kayan seemed to argue a lot for lovers, but Jedra had seen that before, too. It wasn't impossible...

He was so preoccupied with his thoughts that he plowed right into Kitarak's bulbous abdomen when the tohr-kreen stopped suddenly. He nearly fell over, but managed to catch himself on Kitarak's pack.

"Sorry," he said, blushing. "I wasn't watching where I was going."

"Obviously," Kitarak said. "Fortunately, I have been. We are entering flailer territory, so be on sharp lookout."

"What's a flailer?" Jedra asked.

Kitarak rasped his arms again. "How did you make it this far into the desert on your own? A flailer is a six-legged beast with a hard shell that looks like a rock. When it hears you coming, it positions itself near your path, pulls its legs and head inside its shell, and waits for you to stumble into its backside-excuse me, they seldom find prey that stupid, so flailers wait for their prey to approach and attack when it draws close enough."

Jedra blushed even harder. He hated looking like a fool in front of Kayan, especially now when he thought he might be in love with her.

She didn't seem to notice. "They look like rocks?" she asked. The land around them was littered with reddish-yellow rocks of all sizes, from gravel to ones as tall as Kitarak.

"Yes," said Kitarak. "Just like rocks. And don't let that fool you into thinking they're slow. They're not, and they have claws on all six legs, plus a beak that could rip your fleshy little throats out in a second."

Jedra looked beyond Kitarak. The land ahead looked no different than what they had been traveling through all afternoon: stones as far as the eye could see. What made this particular area so special? He could see no reason why a flailer-if such a beast existed-would prefer the stretch ahead of them to the one behind them. He was about to ask Kitarak how he knew when he thought of another explanation.

Maybe it was all flailer territory around here, and Kitarak had just spotted one. He seemed determined to test Jedra's and Kayan's abilities; maybe this was another trial.

Jedra focused on the path ahead of them. Was anything watching them from out there? Anything dangerous? He concentrated on a waist-high boulder a few hundred feet away. Nothing. Beyond that was a jumble, so he tried nearer to where he stood. How about that big one to the right, or that little one just in front of it? He moved his attention from rock to rock, getting nothing, nothing, nothing-something. And only thirty feet away or so!

He bent down and picked up a fist-sized rock in each hand. "Like that one?" he asked, then he flung one of the rocks over Kitarak's head toward the boulder with personality. The rock glanced off the side of it with a hollow thunk, and the boulder suddenly sprouted legs and a beaklike head on a long neck. It hissed angrily and took a step toward them, but when Jedra threw his second rock and whacked its shell again it backed away.

Kitarak made his rasping noise again. "Don't be too proud of yourself," he said. "It could have attacked us even at this distance."

"Then why did you stop so close to it?" Jedra asked. "You knew it was there."

The tohr-kreen shuffled from foot to foot, his pack squeaking madly. He obviously didn't want to answer. Had he planned to lead them past it and see what they did when it attacked? Jedra didn't like that thought. He picked up another couple of rocks and tossed them toward the flailer, careful not to hit it this time. He just wanted it to know they hadn't forgotten about it. It hissed again, then turned around and lumbered away.

Kitarak bobbed his head in an exaggerated parody of a nod. "Point taken," he said. "I will remember that." He began walking again, making a wide circle around the flailer.

The tohr-kreen was tireless. They stopped for a break only once that afternoon, just long enough to eat a few strips of dried z'tal meat and wash it down with a swallow of water, then didn't stop again until Jedra and Kayan finally called a halt long after sunset.

"We can't go any farther tonight," Kayan gasped, leaning against a rock for support. Jedra felt completely drained as well, worse than after a long convergence with Kayan.

"What?" Kitarak said indignantly. His tall, spiky body stood out in sharp silhouette against the night sky. "Certainly you may rest, but not all night. We have many miles to travel yet."

"We can do it in the morning," Kayan said. "Right now we're cold and tired and we need to sleep. Don't you?"

"Tohr-kreen do not sleep."

"Great. Well, humans do, and so do half-elves. You can stand guard."

Kitarak clicked and rasped in agitation, but it was obvious his traveling companions weren't going to move any more until they had rested. "Very well," he said. "Sleep then." He lowered his pack to the ground, removed the piece of tinkercraft he had recovered from the ruins, and began polishing its tarnished mirrors with a strip of cloth.

Jedra and Kayan found a low spot where a few inches of sand had filled in a hollow in the rock, and after making sure nothing else had claimed it ahead of them, they lay down to sleep. Kayan faced away from Jedra and pressed her back against him. He put his arms around her without prompting this time, even drew her close to him and folded his body alongside hers.

I never thought I'd say this about sleeping on the ground, but this feels wonderful, Kayan mindsent.

It does, Jedra replied.

I could sleep for a week. She paused, then added, Do you trust him to keep watch?

Jedra tried once again to sense any danger from the tohr-kreen, but he felt only the alien presence behind them. It was muted somehow-evidently Kitarak was already preoccupied with cleaning his treasure. When Jedra concentrated he felt an oddness to Kitarak's psionic impression, a sense of something more beneath the surface, but whatever it was, it didn't seem hostile.

I don't feel anything to worry about, Jedra said.

Good. I don't think I could do anything about it now even if you did. She tilted her head back. Good night.

Good night. They kissed. Her soft, warm lips drew all of Jedra's attention, and suddenly he felt himself slipping into convergence with her.

It flooded over them in a sudden rush of sensation, warming and tingling their entire bodies. They were no longer two people kissing; they were the kiss itself, a focus of energy swirling through that point of contact until their entire being existed only where their lips met.

Startled by the intensity of it, they pulled back. The link broke, but not with the devastating letdown of before. A far more primal connection was being forged. They paused with their lips just brushing, feeling each other's breath against their cheeks, tasting the delicious memory of the kiss.

Starlight twinkled in Kayan's eyes. "Wow," she whispered.

Jedra didn't trust himself to speak, not even with his mind. So he kissed her again.

Whether they mindlinked again or not, he couldn't say. There was no sudden transition, no moment of otherness-just an incredible rush of sensation and excitement.

Mmmm, Kayan sent. Just wait until I get you alone.

Jedra opened his eyes and looked at her. That almost sounds like a threat, he said.

She smiled mischievously. Considering what just happened, it might be.

He brushed her hair away from her neck and kissed her there. That's a risk I'd be willing to take.

Mmmm. Me, too. But not tonight. Not when we're already exhausted and with Kitarak watching.

Reluctantly, Jedra said, Yeah, you're probably right. I wish you weren't, though. He sighed and

lowered his head to rest on his arm. Kayan turned away and pressed her back against him again. Sweet dreams, she said. *****

He jerked awake with her snarl still in his ears. Another voice split the night: Kitarak shouting "Yeeahh!" in alarm.

Jedra heard the snick of the tohr-kreen's expanding gythka, and seconds later another snarl came from the darkness. Something was attacking!

The stars provided just enough light to see two ghostly silhouettes locked in battle: Kitarak with his gythka lunging at something long and low and reptilian that dodged faster than the tohr-kreen could swing his weapon. Jedra scrambled to his feet and grabbed the b'rohg spear. Kayan was even faster; she'd still been enfolded in his arms a moment ago, but by the time he could whirl around and aim the spear toward the source of the noise she was already in front of him, running straight for it.

"No!" He shouted. "Kayan, get back!"

She answered with a scream of terror-from behind him. Jedra turned to see her right where they'd been sleeping, struggling to stand while slapping frantically at her arms and legs. How could that be? She'd been in front of him a second ago.

She was still there, too. Jedra swung around with the spear again and saw her joining Kitarak in battling the lizard, but she had no weapon! Jedra watched, horrified, as she leaped at the creature with her bare hands.

"No!" he screamed again and ran forward with his spear ready to throw, but Kayan was in the way. And as he watched, helpless, the creature lunged for her. With one snap of its powerful jaws it tore her belly open clear to her spine. She fell to the ground like a rag doll, and the creature backed off, its mouth glistening with her blood in the starlight.

"Kayan!" Jedra screamed. He flung the spear with all his might, but he overshot the lizard's scaly head. Worse, Kitarak chose that moment to attack, and the spear sailed straight into his side, punching halfway through his lower thorax and adding a ghastly parody of a third pair of arms just below his real ones.

The tohr-kreen turned his head toward Jedra in surprise, then with a rattle of exoskeletal limbs he collapsed on top of Kayan's still-quivering body.

But another Kitarak still fought! He swung his gythka at the lizard again, and this time its multiple blade tore a gouge across the thing's left flank. The lizard screeched and whirled around, whipping its tail out and knocking the gythka out of Kitarak's grasp.

Jedra shook his head to clear it. Behind him, Kayan screamed again, and when he looked toward her he saw her standing where she had been before, clawing at her back as if something were biting her there, just out of reach.

When he turned his head once more, the Kitarak and the Kayan who had died were gone. Jedra's spear was wedged into a cleft in the rock beyond the creature that was advancing on Kitarak, whose gythka lay on the ground between Jedra and the lizard's scaly tail. Jedra rushed forward and picked up the strange metal weapon. The blade on one end looked perfect for chopping; he swung it high over his head and was just about to bring it down on the lizard's back when Kayan leaped between them again.

"Get back!" he shouted, but she stood right in his way. "Strike it!" Kitarak yelled, backing frantically away. "I can't!" Jedra jumped to the side, trying to get around Kayan, but she stepped between him and the creature again.

He risked a look behind him. She was still there, slapping at herself as if she had a whole hive of insects crawling over her. Yet there she stood in front of him, too, right where he would hurt her if he made any kind of attack on the lizard. This one couldn't be her, it wasn't possible, but Jedra couldn't bring himself to strike down whoever or whatever it was.

Growling in frustration, he tossed the weapon over her head toward the tohr-kreen, who snatched it out of the air and swung it at the lizard's head.

Something seemed to be interfering with Kitarak's aim as well; what should have been a sure blow merely glanced off the thing's scaly hide. The creature lunged toward him, and Kitarak barely escaped its teeth by springing away with a powerful kick of his hind legs.

Jedra ran back to Kayan. "Link up!" he said, but she was so preoccupied with slapping and tugging at herself that she didn't hear him. He grabbed her arms. "Link up!" he shouted. She struggled to break free of his grasp, and the look in her eyes was one of pure terror. Her face had twisted into a mask of agony, and her screams had dwindled for lack of breath to an almost constant moan of pain.

"Agony beetles!" She writhed free of his grip and slapped at herself again.

"There's nothing there." Jedra grabbed her arms again. "Stop it. You're hurting yourself."

Another snarl from the lizard split the night. Link up, now, Jedra mindsent. He held Kayan tight against him, trying to establish the link on his own, but he couldn't. Fight it! he sent. It isn't real.

Kayan stopped struggling. Her body quivered exactly as if she were still being bitten, but a moment later Jedra felt the mindlink form.

It was like being dropped into liquid fire. Pain shot through every nerve in his body. If this was what Kayan had been feeling, then no wonder she'd screamed. It was hard to maintain the link while such agony coursed through him, but this was their only weapon. Even though their intellects weren't completely melded this time, they were still more powerful than if they fought alone.

The creature's doing this, Jedra thought. It's gotten inside our minds somehow. He willed the pain to stop and felt it respond to his command. It didn't go away completely, but it no longer filled his entire consciousness.

He and Kayan turned their attention to the lizard creature. It wasn't a creature now; it was Kayan who stalked Kitarak, easily dodging his wild swings with the gythka. Kitarak flailed at empty air a few feet to her side, stabbing and slicing exactly as if something were there. Obviously he was having trouble distinguishing reality as well. Their psionic vision overlaid the starlit scene. In it, they saw the creature as a glowing knot of light, long colored ropes of it that stretched out to entwine around Kitarak and themselves.

Cut those, Jedra thought, imagining himself slicing through the light with his hands. The ropes flickered when he struck them, and the pain he and Kayan felt fled, then returned. The image of Kayan disappeared momentarily as well, but the tendrils of light reestablished themselves and the image and the agony returned. Forget this, Kayan said. Let's just squash it flat. Jedra winced at the thought. He knew it wasn't really Kayan out there, but all the same, he couldn't bring himself to attack whatever it was that fought in her image. And since it was his telekinetic power that their union amplified, Kayan couldn't initiate it herself.

Smash it! Kayan insisted, but he couldn't do it.

The Kayan thing leaped toward Kitarak, and this time it grabbed Kitarak by his left leg. Kitarak screamed and stumbled to the ground, and for just a moment as the creature concentrated on its attack, the image flickered backed to reality. In that instant, Jedra struck with all the force he had, greatly augmented by Kayan's presence. He imagined a huge hand swatting the lizard, crushing its body and blotting out its tendrils of light.

The ground shook. Thunder boomed, and the light flared bright, then died. The intense pain Jedra and Kayan had felt ceased instantly. Something else flared around Kitarak, though, a different kind of light. A halo of bright blue radiance surrounded him in a glistening cocoon.

Jedra and Kayan unlinked, and looking with their normal eyes they saw Kitarak getting slowly to his feet. There was no halo of light in the real scene; here the tohr-kreen's body itself glowed blue. His light was strong enough to illuminate the ground a few yards around him, and by its glow they could see the crushed body of the lizard creature lying flat as a shadow at the bottom of a shallow depression of pulverized rock. Cracks radiated out from it in all directions, but where Kitarak stood they veered away, and the ground looked undisturbed in a tight circle around him. Kitarak himself looked healthy as well, except for the blue glow.

"Are you-are you all right?" Jedra asked him.

"It clawed me on the leg," Kitarak said, limping slightly and using his gythka for support as he stepped toward them.

"No, I mean the light."

Kitarak clicked his mandibles together. "Ah, yes, that." He ducked his head. "It's ah... it's... I'm fine."

"You're glowing blue," Kayan said. "How can that be fine?"

Kitarak looked back at the crater with the lizard at the bottom of it, then at Kayan again. "I am radiating the energy from your blow," he said. "It will fade soon."

"You what? How can you do that?"

Kitarak held his hands out in a four-armed shrug. "Ah... psionics," he admitted.

Jedra and Kayan looked at one another. Psionics? Jedra mindsent. I thought he didn't like psionics.

"No, it's magic I disdain," Kitarak said. "Psionics follows the rules of tinkercraft." "You-you heard that?"

"All right," Kayan said, bending down to examine his leg. Its glow bathed her face in blue light. "We'll see if it works."

"Wait a minute," said Jedra. "Did he say something to you?"

She looked up toward him. "Yes, didn't you hear it?" "No. But you-" he spoke to Kitarak "-you hear whatever we say to each other?"

"Yes," the tohr-kreen admitted.

"You've been listening to us all along?"

Kitarak clicked his mandibles, then said, " 'Don't let him know we can communicate without speaking. Or mind-merge. We may need the advantage if he's not what he seems.'"

Jedra balled his fists angrily. "You... you lied to us!" Kitarak ignored his threatening posture. "I most definitely did not. You never asked if I knew psionics, and I chose not to tell you. I figured I might need the advantage."

Jedra didn't know what to say to that. While he fumed silently, Kayan bent over Kitarak's injured leg and passed her hand along the deep gouge the lizard had made in his hard exoskeleton. The blue glow made the bones of her hand show up like dark shadows beneath her skin. "I don't know if there's much I can do here," she said. "I can heal the tissue damage underneath, but most of the surface isn't alive in the first place. I can't heal that. Your leg will still be weak where it's been clawed."

"That will heal on its own, in time," Kitarak said. "In the meantime, I will simply be careful with it. Repairing the inner damage will be fine for now."

Kayan nodded.

"What was that thing that attacked us?" Jedra asked while she worked. "Another one of your little tests?"

Kitarak leaned back on his arms. "If it had been a test, I would not have been careless enough to let it reach me.

No, the tokamak was a surprise to me as well. I was too engrossed in repairing the jernan to notice its approach."

"Tokamak?" Jedra asked. "I haven't heard the name before."

"That's the tohr-kreen name for them. I have heard your kind call them id fiends. They project fear at their prey, so you find yourself tormented by whatever you are most afraid of."

"I kept seeing Kayan getting hurt," Jedra said. "That's why I couldn't hit it; Kayan was always right there."

She looked up at him. "With me it was agony beetles. They were crawling all over me, going for my back so they could tap into my spinal cord and burn out my nerves."

That would explain her frantic slapping. Jedra looked to Kitarak, who merely said, "Tinkercraft. Magically animated tinkercraft. I was able to see through most of the effect, but even I couldn't block it entirely."

" 'Even I'?" Jedra asked. "What do you mean by that? Who are you, anyway?"

"I am Kitarak," Kitarak said. "Tohr-kreen noble of the House of Antarak." He paused. "And psionics master."

"Psionics master?" Jedra sat down heavily. "You knew all this time that we were looking for someone like you, and you didn't say anything?"

"Seek and ye shall find," Kitarak said. "You made a false assumption when you met me. I looked powerless and helpless, so you assumed I was. I allowed the deception to continue, for it gave me opportunity to study you."

"You weren't dehydrated?" Kayan asked. "I checked you psionically. You certainly seemed dehydrated."

Kitarak clicked again. Definitely laughter. "I can seem many things> when I choose to. Including disinterested. But in truth, I am very interested in you, and have been ever since I detected your presence over Tyr. Yours is the strongest manifestation of psionic synergy I have ever encountered."

"You knew about us?"

"Oh, yes. I make it my business to be aware of the major psionic talents in the region. In fact, as soon as I noticed you I intentionally put myself in your path so I could meet you."

Kayan bent back to her work on his leg, but Jedra said, "How did you know where we were going? We didn't even know ourselves that we would go north."

"You?"

"Of course me. I drew your attention with a flash of light while you were searching for an oasis. I projected the image of the city for you to see when you came to investigate the light. And I planted an attraction in your mind so you would be sure to come, even though it may not have felt like the logical thing to do."

Jedra couldn't believe what he was hearing. Going to investigate the city hadn't been his idea? Sure it had seemed a little reckless, but there hadn't really been any other choice, had there? Kayan had thought so, but she had finally agreed with him to try it. Of course she had probably been under the tohr-kreen's influence as well.

"Why did you lure us to an abandoned city?" he asked.

Kitarak looked away. Softly, he said, "I might have had to kill you. And strong as you were, it might have been dangerous to innocent bystanders."

"Oh." Jedra focused on Kitarak with all his ability, trying to see through the surface to the psionics master's true intentions, but he still felt no threat. He had trusted that impression before, but now he wasn't sure what to believe. It sounded like Kitarak could project whatever he wanted Jedra to receive, no matter what his real thoughts were.

Don't worry, Kitarak mindsent to him. If I had wished to do you harm, I would have done so long since.

Well, that's a relief, Jedra sent back, hoping the sarcasm would translate as well.

Evidently it did. Kitarak said, You have an interesting attitude for one so naive. It's a wonder that hasn't gotten you killed by now.

What attitude? Jedra asked, but Kitarak merely clicked his mouthparts in laughter for reply.

His blue glow had begun to fade already, especially along his leg where Kayan practiced her healing power. Evidently she was using some of the energy for her work. The glow had nearly disappeared from his entire lower leg when she leaned back and said, "That's as good as I can make it. How does it feel?"

"Good as new," Kitarak said. He stood up and tried his weight on it. "Ah, yes, I can still feel the weakness in the chitin. Hmm. I'm not sure I want to travel on it, especially with the added weight of my pack."

"Maybe we can splint it," Kayan said.

Kitarak weaved his head from side to side. "There is a better way... provided you're willing to accept me as the mentor you've been searching for."

Kayan looked to Jedra. What do you think? she asked.

I think it's pointless to mindspeak around him, Jedra replied.

"All right, then, what do you think-out loud?"

Jedra wasn't sure what he thought. Kitarak obviously knew his stuff, but...

"I don't know," he said. "It'd be hard to trust someone who started out manipulating and deceiving us."

Kitarak made a chittering sound. "Think of it as your first lesson: Don't let your initial impression blind you to hidden possibilities."

"That may be good advice," replied Jedra, "but the best lesson I ever learned on the streets was to never make the same mistake twice. I'm just trying to decide whether or not trusting you was a mistake the first time I did it."

"I have done you no harm. In fact, had I not diverted your path, you would have died of thirst and exposure before you got within thirty miles of Tyr."

"You don't know that," Kayan said. "We might have made it."

"Yes, and mekillots might fly," Kitarak said. "But knowing what I do of your abilities, I would give better odds to the mekillots."

"Thanks for the vote of confidence," Jedra said. Kitarak's blue glow was definitely fading now. It no longer illuminated anything around him, only his own features. He looked cold, both physically and emotionally. His bulbous eyes never blinked, and his narrow, hard-surfaced head displayed no feelings that Jedra could read. Jedra wondered what kind of a mentor this alien creature would be, whether or not they would have enough in common to allow for true communication. Would Kitarak actually teach them what they wanted to know, or did he have his own agenda?

"What do you get out of this?" Jedra asked him.

"Satisfaction," Kitarak said after a moment. "You are inquisitive, and you have potential. I would enjoy helping you develop your skills. Also, I have not had clutch-mates for many years."

"Companions."

"Oh."

"So, do you want to return with me to my home and learn how to use this talent of yours?"

Jedra and Kayan looked at one another for a moment, trying to read in each other's expressions what they couldn't say aloud or in the mindlink. The trouble was, Jedra had no idea what he wanted to say. He didn't trust the tohr-kreen as far as he could throw him, but on the other hand, this was probably the best-maybe the only- offer they were going to get.

He looked beyond Kayan to the crater with the flattened tokamak at the bottom of it, then to Kitarak, still glowing with faint blue light. If he hadn't protected himself from Jedra and Kayan's excess psionic force, he would have been killed along with the id fiend. Their original reason for looking for a mentor hadn't changed; they were still dangerous.

But they might become more dangerous still, from some people's viewpoint, once they learned how to control their gift.

"What if you decide later on that we're a threat?" he asked. "Will you try to kill us then?"

Kitarak picked up his gythka from where he had placed it when Kayan had been healing his leg. He grasped it just below each head and twisted the shaft, and the metal tubes slid into one another again, shortening the weapon to less than two feet in length.

"Despite your facetious comment earlier about ruling the world," he said, "I don't believe that will become necessary. If it does, however, then yes, I will."

"Great."

"To do anything else would be uncivilized," Kitarak said. "That is one of the things I will teach you. I ask you for the final time: Do you choose to learn from me, or not?"

Jedra took a deep breath. Despite that unsettling admission, there could only be one answer, so he gave it: "Yes."

"Kayan?" the tohr-kreen asked.

She nodded. "Yes, certainly. But can it wait until morning? I'm exhausted."

Kitarak clicked merrily. "Yes, by all means, sleep. That will aid us immeasurably in returning to my home."

"You don't have to get sarcastic just because you don't have to sleep," she said.

"No, no," said Kitarak. "I meant it sincerely. The first thing I will teach you is how to dreamwalk." He walked over to where he had been sitting before the attack, picked up his ancient artifact and his pack, and brought them back to where Jedra and Kayan waited. "Lie down next to each other, like you were before," he told them.

They did as he said. Kitarak placed all three of their packs beside them, then knelt down next to their heads.

"I will put you into a light trance," he said. "You will dream, but don't try to direct it in any way, or you will wind up somewhere else. Let me control the vision."

"All right," Jedra said. He couldn't have slept now if he had to, not on his own, but Kitarak extended clawed lower hands to touch his and Kayan's temples, and Jedra felt himself growing sleepier. Within seconds, his breathing had slowed, and he drifted away.

Light suddenly blossomed as if he had just opened his eyes to daylight, but he hadn't. The sensation wasn't quite the same anyway. His field of view was broken up into dozens of hexagons, each one overlapping the next just a little so there were no blind spots, but it wasn't a smooth picture like he normally saw. The colors weren't right, either. The rocks were bright yellow, and the sky was deep purple. The stars were still out, shining much more brightly than usual, and each one was a different color. Jedra recognized some of the constellations, but now the tip of Drini the dwarf's nose glowed red, and his eyes were different shades of blue.

He was seeing the world through Kitarak's compound eyes, he realized. They were more sensitive than human or even elven eyes, but if this mosaic of separate images was how a tohr-kreen saw the world, then Kitarak could have it.

The field of view changed. Long, spiky, chitinous arms reached out as if from Jedra's own body, drew on the tohr-kreen's enormous backpack, and cinched the straps tight. Without turning, Jedra could see to the side where two short, fleshy creatures put on ridiculously small packs of their own. Himself and Kayan, he realized. This was how they looked to Kitarak: small, fragile, their flesh unpleasantly exposed and quivering on their bones when they moved. It was an unflattering image. From Kitarak's viewpoint, Jedra watched himself take one of the tohr-kreen's extended arms while Kayan took another, then the three of them began walking to the southwest. It wasn't a normal pace; each step they took moved them hundreds of yards in a long, smooth glide. They slid over boulderfields as if they weren't there, rising and falling over the rolling hills with a hypnotic rhythm that matched their pace.

Jedra tried to ignore it all and just remain a passive observer, but once he saw a flicker of motion off to the right, and their smooth stride faltered for a moment. They veered toward the source of the distraction, but Kitarak pulled them back onto the straight course before they reached it. A good thing, too; as they passed it Jedra saw another flailer feasting on the remains of some unfortunate animal.

The terrain grew more rugged the farther they went. The hills grew higher, and the valleys between them steeper. Some had become true canyons, the ground suddenly dropping away in sheer cliffs hundreds of feet deep. There would often be no warning that one was there until the dreamers were right on top of it. Such terrain would have proved nearly impassable to travelers on the ground, but Kitarak's pace never faltered; he stepped over the chasms as if they were merely cracks in his path.

We wouldn't have made it on our own, Jedra thought when he saw them. He got no reply; this was evidently not like a mindlink.

The sky seemed to be traveling faster, too. The stars slid westward almost as quickly as they did, and the sky was growing light behind them when Kitarak stopped at the rim of a small canyon. It seemed identical to all the others they had crossed, but Kitarak unerringly found a pathway leading down to the bottom of this one, and he led the way down the narrow trail, going ahead while Jedra and Kayan followed.

The bottom of the canyon was a flat, sinuous channel that had once held a river, but not for many centuries. There was evidently still moisture in the ground, however; a few stubby bushes grew in the cracked soil, and even a tree grew near the edge of a big rock pile.

Kitarak stepped closer to the rock pile, and Jedra saw that he had misjudged it. It was a house. He hadn't recognized the curved walls at first because they weren't smooth or even straight up and down. They were made from unmortared stone, and they bulged in odd places, giving the whole structure the appearance of a haphazard pile of rocks. Kitarak walked around to the back side of the structure and tugged on what looked like a loose piece of shale sticking out of a slanting gravel slope, and the whole business swung out on silent hinges. The gravel had been glued to a stone slab door.

A white, smooth-walled entry led into a hemispherical central room, its walls also finished in white stucco or something similar, and the whole space lit from milky-white skylights shaped like the hollow insides of rocks. From outside, Jedra supposed, they would look just like all the others in the pile.

Two circular cushions on the floor were the only furnishings, aside from the narrow stands supporting sculptures and the shelves on the walls holding hundreds of tinkercraft artifacts. Doorways led off in four directions from the central room, but Kitarak knelt down on one of the cushions and motioned for Jedra and Kayan to lie down on the other. When they had done so, he reached out with his lower hands and touched their heads.

For Jedra, the sensation felt as if his mind had been poured from one vessel to another. He had been in Kitarak's viewpoint, but when the tohr-kreen awakened him he suddenly felt his consciousness slide back into his own head. He blinked, and the room came into focus without the hexagonal array. He sat up and felt the welcome response of his own body moving to his commands.

Kayan sat up beside him, blinking and flexing her arms and legs as well. She ran her hands over her body as if reaffirming that everything was still there.

Kitarak merely tilted his head and looked around the interior of the room. "Ah, yes," he said. "Here we are. Welcome to my humble abode."

This was humble? Jedra felt as if he had just awakened in a palace. The waking in itself was incredible enough, miles away from where he had gone to sleep, but the surroundings managed to overshadow even the method of travel. He looked around at all the things on the walls, at the paintings and other artwork, at the unfathomable pieces of tinkercraft-some of it art in its own right-and thought, Yes, this was a good decision.