Gardan clutched at his head, nearly fainting from the white-hot flash of searing agony. Dominic’s face went ashen and he reeled back in his chair under the onslaught of the cry as if struck a physical blow. Kasumi’s eyes screwed closed as he fought to rise. Kulgan’s pipe fell from slack lips as he clutched his temples. Pug staggered to his feet, using every shred of his magic power to erect some sort of mental barrier against the tearing in his mind. He pushed back the blackness that sought to overwhelm him, reaching out to touch the girl. “Gamina, he croaked.
The girl’s mental screaming continued unabated and she tore frantically at the old man’s tunic, a mindless act, as if she sought somehow to snatch him back from whatever horror he faced. Her large eyes were wide and her voiceless hysterics nearly drove those around her to madness. Pug lunged forward and grabbed her shoulder. Gamina ignored the touch, continuing to scream for Rogen. Mustering his powers, Pug forced aside the terror and pain in the girl’s projected thoughts for a brief moment.
Gardan’s head fell forward onto the table, as did Kasumi’s. Kulgan lurched upright, then fell back into his chair, stunned. Besides Pug and Gamina, only Dominic had managed to retain consciousness. Something inside him had struggled to reach out to the girl, no matter how much he wished to retreat from the pain being visited upon him by her.
The girl’s primitive terror nearly brought Pug to his knees, but he forced himself on. He cast a spell, and the girl fell forward. At once the pain ceased. Pug caught her, but the effort drove him back and he staggered into his chair. He sat cradling the unconscious girl, stupefied by the onslaught.
Dominic felt as if his head would burst but hung on to consciousness. The old man’s body was still rigid, nearly bowed back with pain, his lips working feebly. Dominic incanted a spell of healing, one used to cease pain. Finally Rogen went limp, seeming to collapse into his chair. But his face was still a mask of terror and pain, and he cried out in a hoarse whisper words the monk could not understand, before he lapsed into unconsciousness.
Pug and the monk exchanged confused looks. Dominic felt blackness overtake him and, before he passed out, wondered why the magician suddenly looked so frightened.
Gardan paced the room where they had dined the night before. Next to the fire, Kulgan said, “You’ll wear a furrow in the stones of the floor if you don’t sit down.”
Kasumi rested quietly on a cushion beside the magician. Gardan lowered himself next to the Tsurani and said, “It’s this infernal waiting.” Dominic and Pug, with the aid of some healers in the community, were tending to Rogen. The old man had lain near death since he had been carried from the meeting house. Gamina’s mental scream had touched all within a mile of her, though striking those at a distance with less force. Still, several people near the building had been rendered senseless for a time. When the cries had stopped, those with their wits about them had rushed to see what had occurred. They had found all in the meeting house unconscious.
Katala was soon on the scene and ordered them all carried to the quarters where she could oversee their care. The others had recovered in a few hours, but Rogen had not. The vision had begun in midmorning, and now it was after supper.
Gardan struck hand with fist and said, “Damn! I was never meant for this sort of business. I am a soldier. These monsters of magic, these nameless powers . . . Oh for an enemy of flesh and blood!”
“Too well do I know what you can do to a flesh-and-blood enemy,” Kasumi said Kulgan looked interested, and Kasumi said, “In the early years of the war, the captain and I faced one another at the siege of Crydee. It wasn’t until we were exchanging histories that I discovered he was second to Prince Arutha during the siege, or he that I led the assault.”
The door opened and a large man entered, removing a great cloak. He was bearded and weather-beaten in appearance, looking like a hunter or woodcutter. He smiled slightly and said, “I go away for a few days and look who wanders in.”
Gardan’s dark face broke into a broad smile and he rose, extending his hand. “Meecham!”
They shook and the man called Meecham said, “Well met, Captain.” Kasumi followed suit, for Meecham was an old acquaintance. He was a franklin, a free man with his own land in service to Kulgan, though he was more a friend to the magician than any sort of servant.
Kulgan said, “Any luck?”
The forester absently stroked the scar on his left cheek as he said, “No. All fakes.”
Kulgan said to the others, “We heard of a traveling caravan of fortunetellers and gypsies, camped a few days this side of Landreth. I sent Meecham to discover if any of them were true talents.”
“There was one,” said Meecham. “Might have been what he seemed, but he quieted down when I told him where I was from. Maybe he’ll show up on his own hook.” He looked around the room. “All right, isn’t anyone going to tell me what’s going on here?”