I looked to the back, where the Khanum, Arland, and Nuan Cee stood, each the end of their line. “Complete the circuit.”
The muscles on the Khanum’s jaw stood out as she clenched her teeth. Arland’s face might have been made of stone. The gauntlet slid off his hand. He held it out. The Khanum took it. Her expression was terrible. On the other side, Nuan Cee took Arland’s hand. Robart, the next in line behind Arland, turned and clasped his left hand on Arland’s shoulder.
“Sorry, my friend,” he said.
Arland braced himself. They thought they knew what was coming. They had no idea.
George held out his arms.
I pushed with my magic. The glowing stamens reached out, fastening around his arms. A muscle in his face jerked. He would feel the pain immediately. When the booster actually began drawing on his magic reserve, the agony would be excruciating. I glanced at Sophie. She nodded. We had made a deal, and I was counting on her to stick to it.
I planted my staff into the floor. It opened, unfurling into three long flexible metal branches. The branches shot to the three beings standing in front of me and clasped their free hands.
This would hurt. This would hurt so much.
I looked up, past the people gathered behind me to where Turan Adin stood alone on the floor. He walked toward me and grasped my shoulder with his clawed hand. We stood together, locked into a single living circuit.
“Do not let go,” I said, speaking to all of them. “If you do, you may not survive.”
I thrust my hand into the flower and pressed my palm against the psy-booster. Obeying my command, the inn reached out with a tendril and anchored my hand.
The magic of the inn swelled behind the flower and ripped through me, like a gust of incredibly powerful painful wind. It dashed down the chain, splashed against the leaders, and dissipated.
Was that it? That wasn’t so bad, but now nothing was happening…
I felt magic swelling behind the flower, like a tsunami, rising higher and higher. Before I had a chance to prepare myself, it crested and tore into me.
Pain exploded inside me, erupting into a starburst of red hot needles. Tears wet my eyes. I tried to take a breath and a cascade of memories hit me. Robart screaming at the top of his lungs, screaming and screaming, as he looked across the battlefield and watched the otrokari axe carve into woman he loved. I saw her arm fall from her body, saw the bloody stump where it had been, and at the same time I saw her kissing Robart in a garden, her eyes luminescent with love. I felt it. I felt her love; I felt how much she cared. She would do anything for me. I would do anything for her. In my darkest moments, she was there. She would… They were cutting her apart and there were too many between me and her, and I was reaping and slicing, but she was too far. She was screaming for me. She was screaming for my help and I could do nothing. Her face… Oh stars, her face… Please, please Divine, I will do anything. Anything. Take me. Take me instead. Take me instead, you fucking bitch! The axe carved into her neck and I screamed. I screamed, because the pain burst out of me and if I didn’t let it out, it would tear me apart.
The memories kept hammering into me like nails into a coffin. Nuan Cee weeping over the small furry body of a fox baby in his arms, bent over and wracked with grief. Sean in his rooms alone, visions of blood and death… Odalon comforting the dying; Ruga walking through a makeshift morgue, hand over his mouth; Grandmother Nuan weeping… We were screaming. We were crying and wailing in one voice, battered by the pain and loss.
Another memory punched me, like a bullet to the heart. A little otrokari boy trying to walk, unsteady on his feet, teetering, a very serious expression on his little face as behind him a huge otrokar got down on his hands and knees. He was walking toward me. Big round eyes. That’s right. Oh! He fell right on his butt. Pick yourself up. That’s right. That’s my boy. You will grow up big and strong. You will grow… I was cradling a gauntlet with his hand in it. What is this? How is that possible? That is all… Is that all they found? Is that all I have of my son? My boy. My little one. My little baby. No. I can’t outlive my son. I can’t. It hurts too much. A mother isn’t supposed to bury her child!
Lovers, brothers, sisters, children, parents, I lost them over and over, I mourned them, my grief so raw it cut me from the inside. The waterfall of memories pounded against my soul, shredding it.
I can’t. Too much. Too much. I can’t.
How can you live through this? How can anyone live through this?
I can’t!
Make it stop. Make it stop, please.
Please. I beg you.
Stop!
The magic vanished. A single image burned before me, a field of bodies under a bloody sky, and then it too dimmed to nothing.