Don Bassingthwaite - The Grieving Tree

Beat him? Tetkashtai swirled and surged, her light flashing bright with new fear and pressing even closer. We can’t beat him! We have to run and you’re not running!

We can beat him, Tetkashtai, but you need to-

Beyond the storm of light, Dandra saw Vennet open the ancient box that had been hidden in the Grieving Tree and lift out one of Taruuzh’s binding stones. Even through the storm she could feel the stone on the edge of her awareness like a void in the fabric of the world. Il-Yannah , she whispered silently. For a moment, panic gripped her-

— and gave Tetkashtai a grip on her. Light lashed through her defenses and wrapped around her like one of Hruucan’s flaming tentacles. Dandra grasped and writhed. Tetkashtai’s voice rolled through her mind. I will have my body back! the presence howled.

But another voice spoke even louder. “Dandra,” said Dah’mir, “come here.”

His acid-green eyes shone like beacons, drawing her to him. Dandra felt her body respond with a step forward. Ashi’s hand grasped her-then was torn away as Tzaryan and his ogres pulled her down. Tetkashtai! she shouted. Tetkashtai, stop fighting me!

No! You stop fighting me!

Another step. Fear surged within her-fear for Ashi as the hunter fell out of her field of vision, fear for herself as she walked closer to the blue-black void of Taruuzh’s stone, fear driven by Tetkashtai’s fear. More of her creator poured through her failing defenses. The floodwaters of terror rose around her.

“Dandra! Twelve moons-Dandra!” called Singe.

She could still see him, standing with Ekhaas as Hruucan and more ogres closed in on them. The wizard would never hear her but Dandra shouted back to him anyway. Singe! She struggled desperately, trying to keep Tetkashtai back, but she could already tell the battle was lost. It was only a question of what would take her first: Tetkashtai’s terror or Taruuzh’s stone.

Ashi’s voice rose from behind her like a reminder of her own fading determination. “You won’t have her! You will not have her!”

Something brushed against her back-and the flood within her grew calm. The storm eased. She could feel Dah’mir’s grip on her vanish. Her will was hers again.

But not her body. Not yet.

Dandra stood on the featureless plain of her mind and faced … herself. For the first time, Tetkashtai was more than just amorphous light. She had Dandra’s form-or rather, Dandra had hers.

“What’s happening?” Tetkashtai asked. She seemed calm, but Dandra could see the fear inside of her. It leaked out through her eyes, making them look wide and wild.

“I don’t know.” Dandra wondered what she looked like. She felt focused and determined, but at the same time oddly uncertain. “Dah’mir’s lost his power over us. Something’s holding him back-I think it’s holding us apart, too.”

Tetkashtai’s wild eyes hardened. “The hunter touched us just before this happened. The brute dahr has done something to us!”

“If she’s done anything, it’s save us!” Dandra’s heart clenched. “And don’t call her a dahr . She’s my friend!”

“Your friend-not mine.” Tetkashtai moved slowly to the side, walking around her. Dandra turned to stay with her. “I don’t think she’s saved us. I almost had you before this happened. I almost had my body back.”

A shiver crawled up Dandra’s spine. “Tetkashtai, you’d gone mad with fear. Whatever’s going on, it’s given you a second chance.”

“I feel like I’ve been nothing but afraid since Dah’mir used his device on us!” Tetkashtai stopped sharply and swept her arms out, gesturing to the open space around them. “Do you know what this place is?”

“My mind,” said Dandra, then hesitated. “Our mind.”

“My mind,” Tetkashtai said. “This is where I came to create you.” She pointed.

Off in the distance, a memory took shape: Tetkashtai in meditation, pouring her determination into a yellow-green crystal, creating an aid to bolster her will. Dandra felt a strange chill. She was witnessing her own birth as a tiny fragment of Tetkashtai’s personality.

“That’s right,” said Tetkashtai. “A fragment of me-and by il-Yannah’s light, that’s what you’ll be again!”

A spear flashed, shimmering into being in Tetkashtai’s grip as she lunged forward. Dandra spun aside but the spear’s sharp edge grazed her side. Pain burned in a bright line. Somewhere in the distance, someone began screaming. Tetkashtai lunged again, but this time Dandra was ready. She twisted, then twisted again, staying just ahead of the spear-then twisted back with a spear of her own, and knocked Tetkashtai’s weapon aside. The uncertainty that had been inside her resolved itself into a sharp point.

“Don’t do this,” she said.

“If I don’t,” hissed Tetkashtai, “what is there for me to go back to?” She stepped into the air and slid forward. Dandra matched her, gliding backward. They moved faster and faster with each exchange of blows until the wind of their momentum shrieked around them.

“We’re stronger together!” Dandra shouted over it. “That’s why you created me!”

“Would you go back to being a psicrystal? Would you go back to being all but powerless, a prisoner unable to do anything but wait for your doom to catch up with you?” Tetkashtai twisted suddenly, sweeping low with her spear. The shaft of the weapon caught the back of Dandra’s knees and knocked her feet out from under her. Dandra fell, momentum sending her tumbling across the flat earth. She caught a glimpse of Tetkashtai leaping high and flung herself to the side just as her creator’s spear stabbed down. It pierced the ground where her head had been an instant before. Tetkashtai yanked it free and whirled to face her again.

“Would you give up Singe?” she snarled through clenched teeth. Dandra’s heart caught. Tetkashtai’s lips drew back. “No? Then why should I give up my life, my body for someone-for something that isn’t even really a kalashtar? That scarcely knows what being a kalashtar means? That would use one of us as a weapon against another?”

Dandra rose to a crouch, spear held low in one hand. “Virikhad and Medala?” she asked. “Tetkashtai, I’ve told you, I did what I had to! Medala would have killed Singe, Geth, Batul-everyone-and handed us to Dah’mir to become like her. Virikhad …” She took a breath, trying to calm herself, to find her focus. “I’m sorry I had to use Virikhad that way, but the situation was desperate.”

“Then you’ll understand how I feel right now!” Tetkashtai threw herself forward.

Dandra flung up her hand. Within her mind, her powers came freely. Vayhatana rippled through the air in a wave, caught Tetkashtai, and sent her sprawling backward. Dandra dropped her spear and stood, gesturing as she wove a web of force to hold her other self. Tetkashtai struggled, then looked up sharply. The droning chorus of whitefire rang in Dandra’s ears. Pale flames burst around her and she gasped. Her web of vayhatana vanished. Tetkashtai rushed at her, fingers curled like talons. “This body will be mine again!”

Dandra caught her hands, twining her fingers against Tetkashtai’s. Whitefire leaped from her to Tetkashtai. Dandra met her creator’s eyes and the mad terror that burned in them. “Please,” she said one last time.

Tetkashtai’s answer was a scream.

Dandra raised her chin. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I have to do this.”

She seized the fire and drew it into herself. All of it.

The screaming stopped. The only thoughts in Dandra’s head were her own. The yellow-green crystal that hung around her neck was a prison no longer. She opened her eyes and glared at Dah’mir. There was shock on his face but he hadn’t moved at all-her confrontation with Tetkashtai had taken place at the speed of thought. She was aware of everyone around, paused in amazement, but all of her attention was on Dah’mir. Dandra’s lips curled in disgust and anger at the dragon. “You dahr,” she whispered.