Timothy Zahn - Triplet

"Oh, the peri in the forest disarmed me, but good," he grunted, working the knife back and forth.

"Released the dazzler from the sword Melentha lent me. Lot of fireworks and frost—you'd have loved it. Melentha'll probably kill me for losing it."

"Why'd the peri do that? Couldn't it have handled you even with a bound-spirit sword?"

"Hell, it could have handled me with two bound-spirit swords," he told her frankly. "You have to remember that spirits aren't like a pack of idiot dogs or something panting eagerly for the chance to be dumped on by humans. Being entrapped is the equivalent of slavery for them, and they'll do practically anything to get out of it. It's probably the main reason that getting a binding spell wrong is so dangerous; the spirit knows what you were trying to do and lashes out in self-defense..."

He trailed off, and the knife in his hand came to a halt. "What is it?" Danae asked, feeling the hairs rising on the back of her neck.

"Coven," he said slowly. "Danae... what is Coven's claim to fame on Karyx?"

She frowned, thinking. "You told me it was their trade goods. Well crafted, many of them spiritenhanced—"

"Spirit-enhanced," he nodded. "Is it just me... or is there something wrong about a peri who's able to release spirits working for a place that routinely binds those same spirits?"

She opened her mouth, closed it again. "Maybe... could the peri be under a geas of some kind?"

Ravagin shook his head. "I don't think so. But there's more. When we got to the village itself... yes.

The peri told the man that it was heading back to the forest. Told him. Didn't ask permission, didn't wait for orders of any kind. And the man accepted this as apparently normal behavior."

Danae gnawed thoughtfully at her lip. "Well, it at least indicates that that particular man isn't in control of that particular peri."

"Maybe," Ravagin said slowly, "it indicates that there aren't any men in control of the spirits here."

Danae moved up to where she could see Ravagin's face. If he'd been making a joke, it didn't show in his tight expression. "Are you suggesting the spirits could be in charge of Coven themselves?" she asked. "May I remind you that you just got done saying spirits don't like being bound?"

"I also said we're a long way from knowing what the rules are that govern them," he reminded her.

"There could be a whole set of power struggles underway we know nothing about. Maybe the—I don't know—the demons, maybe, are perfectly willing to trap the weaker spirits in the hierarchy for their own purposes, while the peris generally release them whenever they can get away with it.

Something like that."

"Or maybe all of the spirits in Coven are united against the rest of Karyx," Danae said quietly. "With the bound-spirit goods they sell as their version of a fifth column."

Ravagin turned away from the window to face her. "Are you suggesting there might be a way for bound spirits to release themselves when they wanted to?"

"Or else that one of the great powers could release them all at once," Danae said, speaking slowly as it gradually crystallized in her mind. "Neither elementals nor demogorgons are supposed to be particularly localized. But even if the bound spirits never get out it might still pay an aggressor spirit to give them as wide a distribution as possible. Economically, bound-spirit items are the heart of what passes for technology on Karyx. The more the people here grow dependent on them, the more power the spirits have."

"The wolf hunter method," Ravagin nodded grimly. "Makes sense."

"The what?"

"Old story I once heard about a man who trapped a particularly cunning pack of wolves by setting out food for them every night for a few weeks while during the day he slowly built a fence around the area. By the time the fence was completed the wolves had become so accustomed to coming there for food they walked right into the enclosure and he simply closed the gate behind them. Moral was that you're vulnerable to the same extent that you're dependent. If this is what the spirits—or any subset of them—are doing, we've definitely got to get out of here and blow the whistle."

Danae looked at the spot where Ravagin had been digging with his dagger. It was hardly marked.

"We're not going to break any speed records going at it this way."

"Yeah." Ravagin scowled at the window frame and jammed his knife back into its sheath. "The whole building's probably crawling with bound spirits. I wish to hell you'd been out there in the forest with me when that peri released the dazzler—with that high-retention memory treatment of yours you might have been able to remember the spell it used."

"I'm not sure I'd care to have a whole swarm of freshly released and possibly hostile spirits buzzing around me, anyway," Danae said, shivering. "Looks to me like all we have left is the direct approach.

Through the door."

"With a spirit-protection spell around us?" Ravagin said doubtfully.

Danae gritted her teeth. "And the possibility that you at least might be able to get out while the lar's busy holding me."

"Forget it," Ravagin shook his head. "We leave together or not at all."

"This is no time for male overprotectiveness," Danae growled, tension draining away what little native patience she possessed.

"Don't flatter yourself," Ravagin shot back. "Male protectiveness is usually reserved for friends and lovers. But you're a client, and I'm a Courier, and I'll be damned if I'll chase you all the way to Coven just to turn around and desert you."

"Well, then, the hell with your Courier pride, too," she snapped. "This is just a shade more important

—"

And without warning the door slammed back on its hinges.

Danae jumped, spinning around as the Coven-robed man strode into the room. Damn, she thought viciously. Possibly their last chance to get out of here, and they'd thrown it away arguing.

And then she caught the look in the man's eyes... and abruptly her stomach tightened within her.

Ravagin tensed, muscles and senses automatically shifting into combat mode. If the man assaulted Danae he would have to intervene... But a moment later the wild eyes shifted instead to him. "You—

Ravagin," he ground out. "The woman called you 'Courier.' I heard her. Who—what—are you?"

The sheer unexpectedness of the question threw Ravagin off stride for a couple of heartbeats. "What do you mean?" he asked, trying to gain time.

The man's face darkened, and his voice was suddenly harsh. "Don't play games with me, human. If you're a Courier from the other world, admit your identity."

Beside him, Ravagin felt Danae tense. "You're mistaken," she said, her voice trembling slightly. "I merely meant he was acting as my escort in Besak—"

"Do not lie!" the man screamed, taking a step toward her.

Danae jerked back; and as the man took another step forward, Ravagin moved to stand between them. "Carash-natasta!" he called.

The man jerked back as if stung, and for a second an expression of pure hatred suffused his face.

Slowly it faded, to be replaced by a look of almost amused bitterness. "And what did you expect to accomplish by that?" he asked.

"It was mainly to get your attention," Ravagin said, hiding as best he could the knot growing in his gut. He hadn't expected a simple demon-release spell to do any good... but the other's startled reaction had confirmed his suspicion that the man before him was indeed playing host to something else. "I also thought it might help me find out who I was talking to."

"I trust you are satisfied?"

"Reasonably." There was nothing to be gained, after all, by groveling before the demon. Whatever it had planned for them, maintaining his dignity couldn't make things any worse. "I don't suppose you'd care to give me your name?"