Flight to Savage Empire

Chapter Five

The two-mile stretch of land between the roads was wild country, dotted with animal burrows that could break a horse’s leg. Astra Read every foot of it, guiding her mount and the two packhorses across the treacherous ground. She was trying desperately to think of a way to rescue Zanos, but memories kept intruding-her conversation with Serafon after Zanos had been taken away-

“It was Zanos himself that Vortius wanted, wasn’t it?” she had asked the priestess when they were alone in the anteroom. “We thought he was after his property!”

“So did I,” Serafon had replied, “until now. I should have realized that this conflict was over honor, not wealth. Zanos defied Vortius. That could not be allowed. It was all I could do to keep Zanos from using his powers to kill Vortius.”

“Why? The man was overwrought. If he had dropped dead of an apoplexy-” Astra looked sharply at Serafon. “You were protecting Vortius? It was Zanos who needed your help. I thought you and he were like mother and son!”

“They are both my sons,” Serafon said quietly, sinking into a chair. “I am Vortius’ natural mother.”

Astra stared at her in disbelief.

“Thirty years ago,” the priestess went on, “when I was a little younger than you, my Adept powers increased so that I lived in terror of being exposed. I’d never used my powers to harm anyone, only done what I could when someone was very ill or when the weather threatened to destroy our crops.

“A young boy in a nearby town showed Adept powers… and was stoned to death by his own family. I feared that the same thing might happen to me, so I decided to destroy my powers in the one sure way-by giving myself to a man. There was a neighbor it had been assumed I would marry-but he kept saying he couldn’t afford a wife until the next good harvest. I was too frightened to wait, so I tempted him. It wasn’t hard.

“My powers disappeared overnight… but the man lost all interest in me, and began courting another.

Soon I discovered that I was pregnant. The father of my child had just announced his wedding plans.

“I feared the shame I would bring on my family. More than that, I questioned why the gods were putting me through one ordeal after another.”

Astra touched her shoulder in sympathy. “So you ran away to Tiberium?”

“To this very temple. Many unwed mothers are helped here. When Vortius was born, the high priestess saw to it that he was adopted into a good family. Eventually I was allowed to join the order, and befriended his adopted mother. But I never told Vortius or his mother wno I was.”

Astra arrived at the border station a few minutes after Vortius and company had passed through the gate.

She Read soldiers in the nearby barracks happily dividing up the bribe Vortius had given them to open the gates. The few coins she had would never satisfy their greed.

Three guards were on duty as she rode up to the tower. They looked down at her with leering smiles, exchanging muttered jokes that she could Read, but ignored. But it gave her an idea…

“Hey, pretty one, what can we do for you?” one of the guards called down.

“Open the gates!” she demanded, not having to act to sound tired and frustrated. “He’s not getting away from me that easily!”

The three looked at each other, puzzled, then back at Astra again.

“I’ve followed Vortius for two days!” she exclaimed. “The gold he paid you was supposed to include me.

I’ll chase him clear to the edge of the world before I’ll let him desert me after what I did for him! Now let me through the gate!”

The guards started laughing, and Astra Read them envisioning this angry woman set loose on the arrogant gambler. As she had hoped, they resented his wealth enough to pass her through. She spurred her horse down the road, and rode fast until she was out of sight of the guard tower.

Then she slowed to a walk again. It would not do to catch up with Vortius’ caravan until she had a plan to help Zanos escape. Again her memories intruded.

“Your powers returned after Vortius’ birth?” she had asked Serafon.

The old woman had nodded. “By the time I joined the order they were as strong as ever. I found a new home here, and decided that I would have to find a better way to survive than running away again. Then I heard a Dark Moon Reader boast about exposing a secret Adept when he couldn’t Read her surface thoughts. I could pass as a nonAdept if I could project my feelings, give Readers something to detect.

“Eventually, it became a habit to project my thoughts. And then I began to look for other secret Adepts, to help them survive in this land that kills us.”

“Was Zanos the only one you found?” asked the Reader.

“Yes,” Serafon said, smiling at the memory. “He was such a rebellious child. He escaped from his master and hid in the temple. Some instinct drew me to him, but I had to use my powers to prevent him from running away. I was amazed when he tried to counter my powers with his own weaker ones. I persuaded him that it was better for him to learn to control his powers than to reveal them while he was so young that he could be easily caught and killed. Eventually I was able to show him that the discreet use of his powers could be his way out of slavery, and we became friends.”

Astra could Read a sense of apprehension sweeping the territory as she rode through the lands west of Zendi. Here and there she picked up thoughts of people preparing to join the army-an army marching against the Aventine invaders. These were the lands of the sorcerer Lenardo, she remembered. He and his savage friends would soon attack Astra’s people … or defend themselves, depending on your perspective. Right now I, too, could be considered an enemy of the Aventine Empire.

She picked up images of Lenardo. His people saw him as a hero. They trusted him, and the union of Adepts and Readers he had brought together.

Constantly monitoring Vortius’ progress, she Read that the gambler and his party avoided attracting attention. Astra did the same, skirting the places where people were gathering for battle. By evening, Vortius reached the foothills of a mountain range that stretched northward to the limits of her Reading abilities. There he made camp on a hilltop surrounded by dense forest.

The farther from the border she got, the more Astra worried about dangers she could not anticipate.

Lenardo was a Master Reader. Scanning for enemies, he could accidentally discover her. I’H not be turned into one of the savages, as he was! But that meant rescuing Zanos that very night, so they could flee Lenardo’s territory.

But how could she do it? Her only advantage was that she was a strong Reader, and there seemed to be no Readers in Vortius’ party.

Yes, that was it! Serafon had unwittingly given her a clue. But she would need a place where she could imprison Zanos-and hold him.

She scanned the nearby hills. The area was dotted with underground caverns, but only one was structured to suit her needs. She made careful preparations, and with a prayer to all the gods set off toward Vortius’ camp at twilight.

There were four guards on the camp’s perimeter, each patrolling one quarter-section of the area. Zanos had the southeast quarter, standing like an armed statue, staring sightlessly into the darkness of the forest.

Astra crept to within a dozen yards of him, remaining behind the trees. Slowly and carefully she focused her mind on his, using a technique forbidden except under the strictest control in the healing of sick minds, salving her conscience with the thought that Zanos’ drug-trapped mind was in desperate need of healing.

She projected an image, a belief into his consciousness-a picture of Serafon, weeping like a mother grieving over the death of her child.

Zanos drew his sword and moved in the direction he believed the “sound” came from. He stumbled into a clearing, looking for Serafon. Astra let the illusion fade, then stepped out from behind the trees.

“Zanos,” she said softly, stretching out her arms to him, “come away with me!”

He stared at her, his blue eyes cold and empty. “Why should I go with you?”

The timing was all wrong; both the drug high and the period of suggestibility had worn off. But of course, Vortius would not send any man to patrol his camp in either of those conditions.

“I’m your wife,” she tried. “Zanos, you have fought for your freedom all your life. Are you going to let Vortius make you his property?”

The reminder of his lifelong determination made him frown for a moment, conflicting with the commands Vortius had implanted. Then Zanos shook his head. “I serve Vortius willingly. And you, my wife- you must serve him, too. Come. I will take you to him.”

“No!” Astra took the hand he proffered, but tugged in the opposite direction-a futile gesture against the gladiator’s size and strength. “Not yet, Zanos. Why… we’ve had no time alone together. Please-come with me to my campfire. Warm yourself, and be with me. I have your flute-don’t you miss your music?”

“Music… yes. Our music will entertain Vortius,” said Zanos.

It hurt her to hear him turn every suggestion to pleasing Vortius, but if that would get him to come with her, let him think what he chose. “Yes-we will get our instruments and practice.”

“No-I must stand guard-”

“There are other guards,” she insisted. “Vortius will be so pleased if you charm him with your music.

Come, Zanos-he’ll expect you to be in practice.”

He stared at her coldly. “Astra,” he said at last, as if he had finally remembered her name. “My wife. Yes, there are other guards, but I mustn’t be gone long.”

“Then just come with me to get the instruments, she begged. “It won’t take long.”

She led him through deepening night, Reading their way to the well-hidden cave where she had made camp. Far inside the hill, where none but a Reader dared penetrate the labyrinth of tunnels, she had prepared for her siege on Zanos’ entrapped mind.

“We need a torch,” he said.

“No-I can Read the way,” she told him. “Just come along with me.”

She uad to win him tonight-if he grew desperate

enough to escape back to Vortius, dawn would reveal the rock chimney high above the campsite she had prepared. She had no doubt that a man of Zanos’ strength, let alone Adept powers, could climb up and out. But the fire would not provide enough light for such a climb. She had until dawn.

When they came into the cavern, Zanos seized the flute avidly and played a few notes. The drug had not dulled his skill. No-it did not affect physical coordination.

Astra picked up her lute and accompanied Zanos, letting him lead the way. But he went nowhere except over the same old ground-the songs they always played, no variations, no improvisations, no syncopation… almost no style.

Finally, Astra undercut the melody with a new harmony, layering notes in an unfamiliar texture born of her fears and frustrations.

Zanos stopped playing. “What are you doing?”

“Don’t you remember? You used to play like that, Zanos. You see what Vortius’ drug has done to you?”

“It makes me strong.”

“You are strong without the drug. Vortius has taken your freedom… and your music.”

He didn’t answer, but lifted the flute to his lips again, glaring at her as he played a variation on the same tune. But it was an old, well-rehearsed variation… and note by note Zanos slid out of it and back to the plain melody, accuracy without spirit.

Astra saw his eyes change-their blankness had disappeared with his anger, but now the anger dissolved to emptiness again. The notes fumbled to a stop. Zanos stared at the flute as if he had never seen it before.

Making no attempt to control her Reading, Astra watched him set the instrument down. “I have to go now,” he said. “They’ll miss me from the watch.” He started to place his flute in its case.

“Zanos, you must clean your flute,” said Astra, “or it won’t play right next time. ‘

“It won’t play right nowl” he protested. “I must go”

Was it hopeless? If he would not cooperate, she could not counter his strength-he could wander in the labyrinth of caves until he went mad with craving for the drug.

What good were all her plans to trap his body here, when Vortius had his mind trapped beyond her reach? Clea had begun her cleansing of the drug with the determination to be free of it. All she could Read from Zanos was an animal-like determination to return to his master.

But as she turned her eyes away from his empty ones, a thought suddenly reached her. “Astra! Don’t turn away. Help me, Astra!”

Her eyes flew back to his, but the blankness remained. The thought had been weak, far away, and was not repeated… it was as if Zanos were trapped deep within his own mind, struggling for control.

“I will help you,” she said.

“I don’t need any help,” he replied as if he had no idea that he had cried out to her. “Show me the way out.”

“No.”

“Show me the way, woman!” He towered over her, threatening.

But again she Read an entreaty from deep within him-no words this time, just a dim plea yearning toward her.

“Zanos, I cannot help you if you leave,” she pleaded in turn.

“I don’t need your help,” he repeated.

“You do. You have lost your musical talent,” she improvised hastily. “Vortius will be disappointed. I can show you how to play as well as you ever did.”

He stared at the discarded flute. “… as well as ever?” he finally asked.

“Yes, Zanos!” Astra leaped at the opportunity. “Come-lie down. I will show you how to get your talent back.”

“Lie down?” he asked suspiciously.

“You know how to go into healing sleep. You must do so… and let me guide you to regain your talent.”

She had none of the herbs used to put patients safely to sleep; if he would not willingly seek the healing trance, she could not reach his mind.

At that moment she longed for the Adept power to make him sleep… but her mind felt the weak but free Zanos within the drug-bound man exert every strength to prompt, “Heal… must be healed.”

As if already in trance, he stretched out on the blanket beside the fire. Almost instantly he was in the dreamless sleep of healing-but no fever came to purge the drug from his blood. She would have to guide him to that.

To calm herself, Astra cleaned Zanos’ flute and put it away, then settled herself carefully beside her husband. She would be leaving her body, not to observe a distant place or to seek a plane of privacy, but to enter the dangerous passageways of his drug-influenced mind. She swallowed hard, fighting down fear. She had practiced this technique at Gaeta, as all Readers did-but she was not a healer, nor had she colleagues here to draw her out should she become lost in Zanos’ fantasies.

Long-practiced breathing exercises calmed her body, and she let her “self’ drift forth. As always, her Reading became clearer than ever, unhampered by physical influences. She Read for Zanos-and found the part of his mind that refused the influence of the white lotus trapped, frustrated, within a body it no longer controlled.

“Astra!” She felt his shock as her presence touched his. Not a Reader, he had never experienced such a mental touch before.

“Yes, Zanos. I am here.”

“How can I hear you… Read you?”

She told him, 111 am projecting to you. Now, I want you to leave your body, escape the influence of the white lotus.”

“Leave-?”

“Don’t fear-I will guide you.”

She caught his natural reliance on his physical power vying with the loss of control since Vortius had drugged him. “No-your body won’t obey you,” she prompted. Ill will show you how to regain control.”

Ill know how!” he replied in frustration. “But my own strength betrays me. He betrays me!”

“He?” Astra curbed her fear-the uniting of a fragmented mind was a task for the most skilled of Healers.

“Yes-he! Zanos the slave! Zanos the coward! He is the one in control begging Vortius to enslave him further.”

Suddenly Astra was engulfed in Zanos’ memories. It was his day of triumph! The crowd roared as he skewered his third challenger and turned to receive their approbation, strutting before them, arms upraised, upon the sand stained with the blood of his opponents.

His heart sang. His master would win much gold on this match-and one-twelfth of it would go, as always, toward earning Zanos’ freedom Ever closer the day grew-and now there would be more such bouts, with higher stakes-

A year-a year and a half at the most-and Zanos would have his freedom!

The cheering went on and on: “Za-nos! Za-nos! Za-nos!”

He circled the arena, basking in the approval of the crowd, long since inured to the knowledge that they would have cheered equally for his opponent had he been the victor, and Zanos a corpse to be dragged out of sight of the fastidious.

“Za-nos! Za-nos! Za-nos!”

He waved his arms, and the cheering increased as if he directed an orchestra. He reached the Emperor’s box, stopped, saluted-the crowd went wild.

And suddenly fell silent as the Emperor rose. “Where is this man’s master?” he called, and Lakus ran out into the arena to renewed cheering.

The Emperor raised his arms, and the people quieted once more. “Lakus, you have trained Zanos well-but he has gone far beyond mere training this day. I reward both of you for an outstanding display of gladiatorial skill. Lakus”-he tossed a small but heavy sack that clinked when Lakus caught it-“I reward you with three times Zanos’ value. May you find another and train him just as well.”

Then he fixed his stare on Zanos. “By Imperial decree, I declare you, Zanos, a free citizen of the Aventine Empire!”

The crowd went wild again… but Zanos felt his knees grow weak. It was all he had ever worked for, since Serafon had persuaded him his childish escape schemes were unworkable. He had his dream at last-and so unexpectedly!

His stomach hurt and his head swam as the people cheered the Emperor’s generosity. Zanos knelt, bowing his head in a proper gesture of gratitude-but inside, he feared he might faint.

Zanos remained in that position as the Emperor and his retinue departed, and the crowd began to disperse. Then he climbed to his feet, wondering what had happened to the joy he was supposed to feel… and Lakus came over to him. “Congratulations, Zanos-and may the gods grant you good fortune.

Be sure to put those arms away before you leave.”

Leave? To go where?

His former master walked away, leaving Zanos in the rapidly emptying arena… a free man, but a man with nothing. Not even the armor he wore was his. He did not have a bed to sleep in tonight-nor a coin to buy supper.

This was the freedom he had longed for? To belong to no one? To have no one responsible for him?

Fear tore at his vitals as he faced the bitter truth: he was terrified of being free!

Astra could feel how sharply, even today, Zanos felt what he perceived as his cowardice that day in the arena. But it had not conquered him. “What did you do then, Zanos?”

“Oh-some young gamblers who had won heavily on me came to the arms room, and invited me to dinner. Before I went to them, I talked to Serafon- she arranged a room for me that night, and tried to make me see how happy I ought to be. The next day I went to my old master. By that time he was over his annoyance at the way the Emperor had taken his best man away prematurely, and was happy to hire me as a freedman. You know the rest.”

“Yes, I know the rest. Why do you castigate yourself years later for that one moment of shock? Zanos, everyone feels that way if his life suddenly, unexpectedly changes.”

“You don’t understand,” he protested. Ill felt fear of freedom-the same fear that holds me to Vortius now. Astra, a part of me yearns back to my days as a favored slave. After all, what did I have to do with my life except participate in the games, which I loved, keep my body in shape, and worry about nothing except the possibility that my Adept powers might be discovered? You have never been a slave, Astra.

With a kind master, it can be a very… comfortable life.”

“But not for you. Zanos, I know you-”

“I thought I knew myself! But once that drug was in my blood… I saw my true nature. You will see it, Astra, unless you let me out of here before the latest dose wears off. I-this part of me that feels shame-I become weaker every day. Astra, I am not worth the danger you are in.”

“We are in the middle of the savage lands, Zanos. Where shall I go without you?”

Ill don’t know. I only know that I cannot help you.”

“Yes, you can. You have already recognized that it is a part of you that Vortius has trapped. Your mind is still whole. Come-let me show you how to leave your body. Then you will see everything clearly.”

But it was not that easy. Although Zanos was willing to integrate his personality, his depression was such that he could not leave his body. Astra understood-every young Reader faced such apprehensions, and Zanos was not a Reader at all. He feared that he would be completely disoriented, unable to return and regain control of his body.

“Do not fear,” she told him. “Read with me- with me, Zanos. Feel my love for you.”

“Let me hold you,” he responded.

“Yes,” she told him. “Yes-we will be able to hold one another once your body is free of the drug. But I cannot reach you now. You must reach out to me-”

She tried to guide his consciousness out and up, but he simply let her go. She returned, seeking his mind once more. “Zanos, I want you to imagine that you are not inside your head, but that you-the you that observes-are somewhere else.”

Ill don’t understand,” he replied.

The experience-not leaving the body, but observing from some perspective other than right behind one’s eyes-was so common to a Reader that she could not imagine someone who had never done it.

While Astra was searching for another way of explaining, Zanos said, “Do you mean preserving myself inside, as I do for a fight?” and suddenly his point of view was no longer from inside his head, but from somewhere inside his chest.

“That’s it!” Astra told him. “Yes-that’s right-now just follow me upward-”

She Read his surprise as his consciousness came out of his body. “Now free yourself,” she told him.

“Do not feel your body anymore. Tired or rested, hungry or full, drugged or undrugged, it has no hold on your mind.”

For her, it had always felt like floating up and out of herself; for him, it was as if some heavy burden fell away when his mind became separate from his body. Utter freedom rang through his consciousness in joyous peals of laughter, and she joined in. “You have no fear of freedom, Zanos!”

“This is wonderful!” he replied. “Astra-where are you? I… I feel you, but I cannot see you.”

“There is nothing to see. You can see our bodies here in the cavern with us-”

“Why can’t we forget them?” he asked. “Why can’t we just stay like this?”

“Because if we do not return to our bodies they will die-and we will be left as disembodied ghosts, unable to find our way to where the dead belong. No living Reader has ever found the plane of the dead- and returned to tell the way. We have lives to live inside our bodies, Zanos. I have brought you away from yours only so that you may make a difficult decision-to ria your body of the drug Vortius has forced on you.”

“Yes,” he replied at once. “How did I fail to see it, Astra? All I nave to do is use the healing fever- I’ve done it a hundred times to heal battle wounds. I can burn the effects of the drug out of my blood in a few hours!”

“Good. You understand what to do,” she told him. “But can you make yourself want to do it once you are back inside your body? The drug will control you again.”

“How?” he demanded in disbelief. “How can it? I am in control-”

“Now,” she reminded him. “Remember how you felt before you left your body-even when your body was unconscious, it affected you.”

She could feel him wanting to deny that, but she knew from experience what a difference there was between one’s good intentions while free of one’s body, and one’s ability to fulfill them against the body’s demands. “Plan every move, Zanos. Show me exactly what-you are going to do.”

Again he found the skill from his gladiator’s training: visualizing an opponent’s every possible move and his own countermoves, feeling every muscle, every tendon doing its job until the difficult motions became second nature.

Now he tried to feel the way to start the healing fever-and found that he could not. “Astra, I cannot feel anything] Without my body, how can I?”

“But you do not feel those moves you plan with your body, Zanos. You feel them with your mind. Go on-show me how to counter an opponent coming at you with a spear.”

They were in the blazing light of the arena, the sun hot on their/his skin, waves of heat built from exertion rivaling the heat rising from the sand.

Opposite Zanos, a tall, slender but muscled man stood with spear at the ready. He drove straight at Zanos, who sidestepped and whipped his net under the man’s feet with one deft move. A quick tug, and the man went down rolling, but by the time he swung his weapon around-

Zanos stood over him, not even breathing hard, trident poised to gut him.

"Spear is not a good choice of weapon for individual combat in the arena,“Zanos told Astra.

“That doesn’t matter,” she replied. “What matters is that you felt your moves. Now, the same way, feel what it is like to start the healing fire through your body.”

That was more difficult; Zanos was not accustomed to visualizing his body at rest. “Wait-I know,” he said, and Astra was suddenly in pain.

It was a familiar pain to Zanos, the scrapes, strains, bruises ignored during the excitement of a bout, which made themselves known as he cooled off afterward. Ill wouldn’t bother with healing fire for just that,” he told Astra, sensing her dismay. “It’s nothing-just the way every gladiator feels after he’s won.”

"I'll hate to think how they feel after they’ve lost!” she commented.

“Dead, most often,” he replied flatly. “The normal aches and pains ease with some herb tea and a hot bath. But I recall a time my arm was broken- one of the bones in my forearm, but I managed to hide it, for I couldn’t let Lakus know I could heal a broken bone overnight.”

Astra felt with him the throbbing ache of the arm as he made his way back to his small slave’s cell, collapsed onto his pallet, and called up the fire even as with his other hand he forced the bone ends together, adding Adept strength, but having to endure feeling what he did because he could not Read it.

As the heat of Adept healing surged through his arm, Zanos’ pain faded. Probing the arm, he hoped he had set it properly-but he could not be certain until tomorrow. Carefully wedging the swollen arm between two cushions, he lay back and let the healing fire spread through his body as he fell into dreamless sleep.

“Yes!” Astra told him. “That is exactly what you must do! No matter how your body reacts, Zanos, you must set that same healing fire burning through it, until the drug is purged away. Is there… something that must be done to end the fire?”

“No. When all the foreign substance is cleansed from my blood, I will wake up… very hungry, but otherwise in perfect health.”

“Then… we must wait no longer. As you return to your body, be prepared for it to rebel.”

" I'll should be able to control for hours yet. The craving for the drug comes with the dawn.”

“Zanos… “look” at our cave.”

The first pale predawn gray was filtering down into the cavern, where the fire had burned to glowing embers.

“How long have we-?” Zanos broke off in astonishment.

“Several hours,” she told him. “Time has no meaning outside the body. It always feels strange to return.

I will Read with you, help you to remain oriented. Perhaps you can keep from waking up-”

“But I am awake.”

“Your mind is awake. Your body sleeps. I wonder… Zanos, why don’t you try to start the healing fire in your body before you reenter it?”

She Read with him as he concentrated on his own body below them, envisioned the warmth, fever, heat-

Nothing happened.

“It doesn’t work,” he said. I can’t “feel”-imagining it isn’t enough. There is something physical, Astra.”

She Read him observe the growing light. “Stay with me-give me strength to resist the drug craving.”

“I will Read with you every moment,” she promised. “Now, imagine yourself lying just above your body, in the same position. Your body pulls you home… feel your breathing… your heartbeat-”

As Zanos sank back into his physical form, Astra Read the assault of the white lotus in his blood. A cold craving tugged at his mind, trying to force him to seek the substance to fill and warm that icy emptiness.

He denied it-but some part of him yearned for the easy pleasure the drug provided.

“Fight it, Zanos,” Astra pleaded. “Stay in the trance state, so you can Read me.

III can’t-”

His breathing quickened, as did his heartbeat-if he came out of trance, she would no longer be able to project to him.

“The fire!” she told him. “Start the healing fire now, Zanos-cleanse the drug away!”

He was suddenly blank to her Reading.

Of course! The moment he prepared to use Adept power, he became unReadable!

With a roar of anger, Zanos woke, clambering to his feet. “Vortius!” he cried, stumbling out of the cavern into the tunnels, pushing Astra’s body out of his way.

Astra had to let him go while she returned to her body. Because it had been moved, reorientation was difficult. The leaden weight of physical reality hung hard on her as she forced herself to her feet, ignoring bruises where one arm and leg had hit the rock surface.

“Zanos!” she called, letting her Reading range free.

He had gone down one passage in the dark, come to a turning, and was trying to decide which way to go. Groping with arms outstretched, he fell over a knee-high outcropping and sprawled full-length.

Enraged, Zanos bounded to his feet and turned, rumbling his way back to the light from the cavern. He ran to Astra, grasped her by the arms, and shook her. “You will show me the way out, woman!”

“No,” she managed. “No, Zanos! Control yourself!”

He let go the bruising grip on her left arm, lifting his right hand in a threat to backhand her. “Show me!” he growled.

Determined not to be his means of returning to enslavement, she replied, “You may hit me-you may kill me, Zanos, but I will not show you how to get back to Vortius.”

Something in her voice must have told him threats were useless. He let go of her right arm, too, and as she rubbed her tingling flesh he pleaded, “Astra- Read me. Feel what I need. If you love me, how can you do this to me?”

“How can you do this to yourself, Zanos? You have the means to escape that craving. Have you so soon forgotten what you decided during the night?”

“I can’t,” he said, sounding like a stubborn child.

“Of course you can,” she told him. “You have overcome greater pain in the arena. You are brave, Zanos-and you don’t have to suffer for long. Just until you set the healing fire burning through your blood.”

“But I… I-”

She had to Read what he could not bring himself to say: he did not want to give up the pleasure the white lotus provided, glowing relief from care, relaxation of responsibility. It was easy to Read why the drug was so addictive-it took away all concerns, giving the momentary illusion of perfect freedom.

“Zanos-what the white lotus is doing to you now-is that freedom?”

“… no.” But it was a reluctant admission.

“Then free yourself. Clea did it, without your powers to help her. Ignore your pain, Zanos-it’s less than you suffered from a broken arm. Lie down, and call up the healing fire to purge your blood-”

Her hypnotic tones lulled him, and like an automaton he knelt once more, lay down-and saw the sky above the cavern.

“No, Zanos!” Astra cried as once again he jumped to his feet, his blood yearning toward the source of fulfillment.

As she had feared, the climb was not difficult for a man in Zanos’ prime condition. She tried to follow, tearing her hands and bruising her knees and ankles on the rocks-but Zanos was tough and calloused, levering himself easily upward toward the light- toward the freedom which was slavery-toward Vortius!