Jean Lorrah - Empress Unborn

“Pyrrhus,” Master Clement pleaded, but the man continued inexorably.

“Then she stupidly tried to set me on the Path of the Dark Moon. But I told you, it was a short journey.”

“You ran away,” said Master Clement.

“The morning of my supposed wedding day. Never did meet my intended bride.” He gave a snort of humorless laughter, and opened his eyes. “Have you ever tried to hide when Readers are searching for you, Clement?”

“As a matter of fact,” said the old man, “I have. You have to Read, to discover whether they are tracking you, but every time you do you risk giving yourself away to them.”

“Yes. Well, I escaped-and learned a skill that has since served me very well.”

“Your ability to block sending out thoughts,” said Aradia, “even pain. The reason none of the Readers noticed how badly you were hurt yesterday.”

“Yes,” said Pyrrhus. “I established an identity as an ordinary Aventine citizen, and began to contact some of my old friends from the Academy who had become Dark Moon Readers. Of course, most of them deserved to be, but even they resented the Masters’ crippling some of the best Readers if they were dangerous to Portia’s schemes.

“We made plans, tried to determine if any among the Master Readers were uncorrupted. We contacted a few Magisters we could trust, but we needed a Master Reader to persuade other Masters. We settled on Master Julius, head of the hospital at Termoli. I went to him, with three Magister Readers, healers from his staff. He… listened.”

“And then,” said Master Clement, “he went to the Council of Masters. Yes, Pyrrhus-I learned the full story later, after the fall of Tiberium. Your name was not mentioned, though.”

“No-there was no need to record what happened to me,” Pyrrhus said bitterly. “I was just another failed Reader on their books. But they had to account for the healers: Magisters Samantha, Tyrus, and Cylene, and Master Julius.” He winced. “The man was a fool. He had immersed himself in healing, never been involved in politics. The very innocence that made us confide in him caused him to betray us.”

Master Clement said, “Master Julius thought you were mistaken. He was concerned, though, that the tactics of the Council of Masters were causing misunderstandings among both Dark Moon Readers and Readers in training. He honestly thought he was helping your cause by reporting to the Council of Masters everything you had told him.”

Pyrrhus gave another of his perfectly insincere smiles. “I learned an important lesson from that experience: never trust an honest man.”

Aradia saw Wicket lean forward at that, and take Pyrrhus’ uninjured left hand in both of his. Pyrrhus took no notice, but neither did he withdraw the hand.

“You were an honest man,” Master Clement pointed out, “and Master Julius should have trusted you. As it was, Portia turned the Council against him, insisted he was incompetent, and had him retested. I don’t know how he was made to fail the testing-I wasn’t there.”

“They drugged him,” said Pyrrhus. “I was there. In spirit, anyway. One of the last things I ever Read. Did you know that when they told him he’d failed, and they were going to marry him off, he took poison?”

“Yes… I heard,” said Master Clement. “But you, Pyrrhus. Why have you shut yourself off to Reading?

How can you live that way?”

“I live that way because I have to,” Pyrrhus replied.

“What do you mean? It’s safe to make yourself known as a Reader now-it has been ever since the fall of Tiberium. ‘

Pyrrhus looked directly up at Master Clement, and suddenly his smile was genuine, if brief. “You really are that innocent, aren’t you?

“But then,” he added, his face returning to its expressionless mode, “that means you are just like Master Julius. Clement-I can’t Read.” The voice was flat again, devoid of feeling. “Portia caught me spying on the testing of Master Julius. You see, I was stupid enough to care what happened to him, and when I Read them cheating him out of his life’s work by testing him under drugs, I slipped. My anger showed. I learned another lesson too late: forget the rest of the world, and look out for yourself.

“The next day Portia and her cohorts went to work on me. I’ll wager you didn’t even know the techniques exist, Clement my innocent. But they do. They used drugs, and then they used their minds against mine- the combined power of thirteen corrupt Master Readers who didn’t care how much pain they inflicted as long as they were sure I’d never be able to spy on them again. “

Aradia felt sheet horror prickle her skin, Read the same reaction from Julia and Master Clement, but none of them could close themselves off from the rapport with fellow Readers as Pyrrhus stated in that cold, empty voice, “What it felt like was that they burned out pieces of my mind. After that… oh, I can project thoughts with the strength of a Reader, although I’ve learned not to. But I can’t receive thoughts anymore.

“I cannot Read.”

Julia felt sick, a terrible grim sickness such as she had never known before. To lose the ability to Read?

Never to touch another mind again? Unthinkable!

Both Master Clement and Aradia were as deep in shock as she was.

Wicket was still leaning forward, holding Pyrrhus’ hand, unnoticed. Julia saw him tilt his head back, fighting tears. “Why didn’t you tell me?” he asked.

“There was no reason,” Pyrrhus answered. “There was nothing you could do.” He removed his hand from Wicket’s grasp, no longer making the effort to keep his voice flat and steady. It betrayed his exhaustion by trailing off almost into a whisper on the last words. His perfect control was slipping; Julia could Read the throbbing sting of his incompletely healed burns.

Master Clement said, “You are tired, Pyrrhus, and still in pain. The Lady Aradia will put you back into healing sleep, and tomorrow-”

“No!” His pain disappeared again as he regained control, eyes flashing. “I will not allow anyone to manipulate my mind!”

Aradia said, “I understand now why you fought me when I tried to help you yesterday. Pyrrhus, all I want to do is finish healing your wounds.”

“Do it without putting me to sleep,” he said.

“I can’t. Conscious, your body cannot tolerate the stress of such extensive healing.”

It was stalemate. After what they had just learned, Aradia could not use her powers to force Pyrrhus to sleep.

Then Master Clement said, “You know how to put yourself into trance sleep, Pyrrhus. Do so, and then Lady Aradia will start the healing process again. By tomorrow your body will be back to normal.”

“But not my mind,” Pyrrhus said flatly, defenses at full alert again.

“Pyrrhus, please,” said Wicket. “Let them heal you. You can’t leave here in that condition.”

With a sigh, Pyrrhus closed his eyes. “There are times, Wicket, when even you are right.” And he slipped off into the meditative sleep that Julia had only recently mastered, his body in total relaxation. He would not move or dream, as in normal sleep. His mind could not interfere with the healing of his body.

Master Clement said to Aradia, “Shall I get a healer to help you?”

“No, I have done no other healing today,” she replied. “I have more than adequate strength for this.”

Then Aradia went to stand beside Pyrrhus, her hand on his injured shoulder. She became blank to Reading, and Adept healing fire coursed through Pyrrhus’ burned flesli-this fire renewing rather than destroying.

When Aradia stepped back, Wicket looked up at her. “Will he be all right now?”

“When he wakens tomorrow he will be completely healed, just ravenously hungry again.”