Centyr Dominance (31 page)

Lady Hightower’s voice ended on that note and the
silence that followed seemed to echo with significance. When she sat down the
judge addressed the courtroom, “I will need a short while to deliberate.”

Everyone rose as he left and when he had gone the room
broke into a multitude of conversations. Moira reached forward to touch
Alyssa’s shoulder, “Don’t worry. Whatever happens I won’t let them take you.”

“Moira!” said her father, his face unusually severe.

Moira looked away, but she had no intention of
changing her statement. She had meant it.
I could change everyone’s mind.
Then her eyes landed on Cyhan.

The big man stood alone on the far side of the room,
but his eyes were locked on Alyssa. His normally relaxed stance was gone and
for once he seemed to have little awareness of his surroundings. It was as if
his mind only had room for one thing.

“Alyssa, look,” said Moira, tapping the other woman’s
shoulder again and directing her gaze toward Cyhan.

Alyssa looked down, “I cannot.”

“He’s your father. Let him see your face. You’ve
barely met before this. This might be your only chance,” suggested Moira.

“He must hate me for what I’ve done,” said Alyssa
softly. “I can’t bear to see it in his face.”

Moira looked at Cyhan again. He
did
look
rather stern, so she could see how Alyssa might easily imagine him to be angry,
but she knew Cyhan better than that. “That’s just how is face is. He always
looks like that…”

The room fell silent as Judge Watson returned. He
hadn’t taken long to think on his decision, which might be cause for concern.
After a few formalities he stood to address the room. Moira was studying him
intently and she could see the determination in his aythar. Lloyd Watson was
not a man of many doubts and she could see his condemnation written clearly on
the surface of his mind. She could hear the word ‘guilty’ almost as clearly as
if he had spoken it already.

Not today!
she
thought sending a fine line of aythar toward the judge’s mind.

A shield rose in front of her, interfering with her
attempt to reach him. “Moira,” whispered her father sternly. “No.”

Righteous anger filled her heart as she protested,
“But he’s going to…!”

Mordecai interrupted, “We need to have a serious talk
after this.”

She felt as though ice water had been thrown on her.
Her suspicion was finally confirmed. She had heard about the visit from her
mother’s shade a few days ago, while she had been back in Halam. She had been
worrying over its portent, but her father hadn’t said anything—until now.
She
told him about the rules.

Lloyd Watson gave his verdict, “It is the finding of
this court that Jasmine Darzin is guilty of fraud, kidnapping, and conspiracy
to commit kidnapping. The court finds her innocent of murder, treason and
treachery.”

A hush fell over the room then. After a short pause
he continued, “The court will pause now to hear statements from those most
affected by this case before we continue with sentencing. Those with good
cause may approach the bench to ask for permission to speak to the court.”

David Summerfield was on his feet first and the judge
gave him permission immediately. He wasn’t family, but he had been betrothed
to Lilly Tucker. His cheeks were red and his eyes inflamed as he spoke, “My
Lilly was a beautiful soul. My only dream in this world was to marry her, to
try and give her as much joy as she had given to so many others. There’s not a
soul here who could speak ill of her. She was my heart, my life.

“And she was stolen from me, from all of us. Say what
you will about that woman’s
intentions
,” he pointed at Alyssa, “but
Lilly is dead and all the good intentions in the world won’t bring her back.
She led those murderers to the house. She deserves to die for that alone!”
His voice broke then and he covered his face, unable to continue.

The next to stand was Peter Tucker, his cheeks wet but
his face calm. “Few of you know my story, but Lilly and I came here to serve
the Count and Countess when we were very young. Back then, revenge was my only
motive, my driving force. Hatred burned in my heart and I longed for nothing
more than to kill the man responsible for our grandfather’s death.

“But Lilly didn’t believe in living that way,” Peter’s
throat closed up for a moment and he struggled to go on. When he continued his
voice was thick, “She wouldn’t let me live like that. She fought and argued
with me to forgive, to live for kindness instead, and as time went on, I came
to see that the man I hated was no monster at all. He was just a man, a man
who made a simple but terrible mistake. He was a man that was capable of great
goodness, of kindness, and once I forgave him I came to love him.

“As much as some of us might have cause to hate her,
this girl isn’t a monster. She was as much a victim in this as we were. Lilly
would not have asked for her death. She would have begged us to forgive her…”
Peter stopped. “That’s all I have.”

Gram started to rise, but Rose put her hand on his
shoulder, urging him to wait, and then he saw Sir Cyhan approaching the bench.
His eyes widened in surprise.

The old warrior’s face looked as though it had been
carved from stone, until his lips began to move, “You all know me, or know of
me. I have served Lothion for most of my life, first in service to Edward
Carenval, our late king, and then in service to our good Count.

“I have spent my life fighting. As a boy I was taught
to fight from an early age and my first step into manhood was killing the
bastard that raped my sister, my own teacher. As a man I trained others to
fight, cruelly and without mercy, as I was taught. I did not believe in mercy,
or compassion. I thought this world was cold and without joy.

“I fully expected to die as I had lived, violently. I
yearned for it, for I hated myself. I hated my failures. I mourned for the
sister that I hadn’t protected. I avenged her, but it never gave me any
satisfaction. It only left me empty, facing a life of meaningless brutality.

“I sought refuge in honor, but it did not shield me,
and it was only some joke played by the cosmos that I somehow wound up in the
service of the Count di’Cameron. Years later, I have discovered that there is
more to this life, much more. But still, most of it had nothing to do with me.

“I had no wife, nor the will to take one. I had no
family, only a few friends and a long life ahead of me. Instead of a violent
death, I began to see that I might be forced to live long and die alone.

“And then…,” Cyhan stopped, his deep voice trembling.
“And then, I found out I had a daughter. I’ve never been a husband even, much
less a father, but somehow, I have a daughter. A daughter that was raised
without me, who suffered without me, who was tormented just as my sister was,
and even named after her.”

A great choking sob rose from his chest then, while
tears streamed down his cheeks. “I met her without knowing, without really
looking at her, and now I see her, and despite everything, she’s beautiful.”
He bowed his head for a moment, but he didn’t step down. “And she’s done some
terrible things,
because I wasn’t there for her.
I never had the chance
to help her.

“I’ve never had a family, but now I have a daughter,
and I am begging you to please, please let her live. Let me have the chance to
know her. Don’t take the first good thing to happen to me in this life away.
I will pay any price to keep her.”

Cyhan looked directly at David Summerfield then, “I
know you’ve been wronged. But if you need justice, take my life, Mister
Summerfield. Just give her a chance…”

There were no dry eyes left by then. The big knight
could no longer continue, he stood now, head down and shoulders quaking. The
Count started to rise, to go to him, but Gram was there first.

Unsure what to do, Gram didn’t address the judge, but
he looked across the room, “I wanted to say something too, but he said it
all.” Putting a gentle hand on his teacher’s back, Gram led Cyhan back to his
place.

No one else came forward after that, so eventually
Judge Watson looked toward the Count, “Your Excellency, if I may have a word
with you?”

Mordecai rose and the two men left the room. It was
ten minutes before they returned.

The judge addressed the court again, “My sentence is
that Jasmine Darzin shall serve six months in Lancaster’s dungeon for the crime
of kidnapping. Thereafter she will be given her parole to serve five more
years in the Count di’Cameron’s household. For the terrible wrong done to
Master Tucker’s family, she will pay him fifty gold marks. The Count has
graciously agreed to pay that sum immediately and her service with him may extend
beyond her parole until she has repaid the debt.

“This court is now ended.”

Cassandra beat her wings strongly as she dropped
toward the mountainside, making her landing as gentle as possible.

Moira and her father clambered down from her back to
stare up the slope at the opening to the cave where her unfortunate adventure
had begun.

“I had more trouble finding it again than I thought I
would,” said Mordecai. “All these damn mountains look the same.”

“You should have waited and let me come with you,”
replied Moira. Her father had searched for and found the cave where he had
been captured weeks before, while she and her mother were in Dunbar, but today
he had asked her to return with him one more time, ostensibly to share her
observations with him. She could tell he had other motivations however, it was
impossible to hide such things from her these days.

He’s nervous,
she
observed, following him into the cave.

Mordecai was shielding himself more tightly than ever,
preventing her from seeing anything more than his surface emotions. That in itself
was remarkable to her; not the fact that he was shielding himself so carefully,
her father had always been almost fanatical about that habit, probably as a
result of his years of struggle and conflict. What was interesting was that
since her trip to Dunbar she could now read his emotions despite his shields.

Since her return home she had noticed many such
changes in herself. People were open books to her now, even the residents of
Castle Cameron, who all wore pendants to protect their minds from intrusion.
The enchanted necklaces had been a defense created during the time when
shiggreth roamed the land, but they had kept her from seeing into people’s
minds as a child.

Now, they only served as a sort of hazy interference,
like looking through a gauze curtain.

Her father’s mental shield was more effective, but she
could still see his mood, and today he was nervous.

They entered the last cavern and he glanced around
before speaking to her, “This is where it happened. Can you feel it?”

She nodded, walking to the spot that she and Matthew
had examined the first time they had been there, “It was right here.”

Her father watched her, “Does it feel different now
than it did then?”

Moira frowned, “What do you mean?”

“When you and Matthew were here, you said that he made
a point of the fact that the magic was trans-dimensional, or as he calls it,
‘translation magic’. Does it feel different to you now than it did that day?”

She opened her mind more fully, probing the area,
before nodding, “It’s much stronger than it was then. What do you think it
means?”

“I don’t know. I’m almost certain there has been
another crossing, but I have no way of knowing who or what, or even which way,”
explained Mordecai.

Her eyes widened, “You don’t think…?”

He held up a hand, “Before we talk about what may be,
I want to know if you can feel anything that I cannot.”

“We both have magesight…”

“But you are a Centyr mage, and I know for a fact that
the various families sometimes sense things differently. Walter, for example,
was always able to spot the shiggreth much more easily than I could, despite my
better range and sensitivity.”

She saw a faint flash through his shield when he said
the word ‘Centyr’, a hollow echo that might be fear.
Is he afraid of me, of
what I am? What did she tell him? Is this a test?
“I can try,” she
answered.

Kneeling she put her hands on the floor in the
approximate center of the magical traces. It was definitely stronger now, but
she had no way of knowing whether it represented something coming to their
world, or something leaving it. All she knew for sure was that it was her
brother’s translation magic, gradually fading over time. There was a feeling
of curiosity present as well.

She stared up at her father as her face lit up with
understanding, “It was Matt. He did this.”

“Then we can likely assume that this was him leaving,
rather than the reverse,” said Mordecai.

“He went alone. Why is he so stupid!?” cursed Moira.
“What was he thinking?”

“I don’t know for sure, but he probably meant to trace
the source of the enemy you met in Dunbar,” said Mordecai.

“He has no idea how dangerous they are. No one does,”
she replied, venting her frustration. She had continued to have bad dreams
since her return from Dunbar.

Her father gave her an enigmatic smile, “You might be
surprised.”

“What does that mean?”

“You named them ANSIS when we spoke before; that is a
name that has meaning to me. It is a name that has particular significance to
the She’Har.”

He was talking about the memories he had inherited.
Memories passed down from one Illeniel to the next over thousands of years, the
gift, or possibly the curse, gained by Tyrion Illeniel long ago. Memories that
stretched even farther back than human history, for they were the memories of
the She’Har and their roots had their beginnings long before they had come to
this world.

“All that happened a long time ago,” said Moira. “How
could it be relevant to this?”

Her father’s face changed, becoming earnest, “Before
we talk about that we need to discuss something else.”

“You mean what you really brought me here for,” she
said, somewhat anxiously.

“About what happened to you in Halam.”

Moira took a deep breath, “It didn’t happen to me, I
happened to
them
.” She had been expecting this conversation for days,
now that it was finally happening she felt her fear actually decreasing.

“I spoke with your mother.”

She knew he meant the
other
Moira, the one that
had survived over more than a thousand years just to make sure she could
someday find a new family for her. The one that knew the rules regarding her
special type of magic.

“Did she tell you what the penalties are for
manipulating other people’s minds and memories?” he asked.

Moira shook her head, “Not specifically. It was years
ago, but she gave me the impression they were rather serious.”

“How about the personal consequences of using such
power?”

A vision of her hand, covered in black scales with
fingertips that ended in sharp claws, appeared in her mind as a surge of
adrenaline sent a shock of fear up her spine.
He knows.
She suppressed
the fear but she found herself almost unconsciously sizing him up. The shields
around his body and mind were considerable. She could get through them, but it
would take time, time in which he would be fighting fiercely. Would he kill
her before she could get through them?
If I can get through, this could end
well for both of us.

Moira! Get ahold of yourself. What are
you thinking?
cautioned Myra.
He’s our father!

“No, but I think I understand them now,” she said.
“I’ve changed inside.”

“You know I love you, right? That I will always love
you,” he said sadly. There were tears in his eyes.

The sight shocked her and her own defensive anger
vanished, replaced by feeling of sad longing, of empathy. “I love you too,
Dad.” She had lied before; she had remembered the penalties that her mother
had spoken of. He was planning to kill her. “I’m sorry.”

“Tell me about it, about what you’ve been feeling.”

“What?”

“You aren’t the only one that has been through the
fire. I’ve done things that harrow the soul, things that wake me up in the
middle of the night, sweating and fearful. I don’t know what you’ve
experienced, but I can probably empathize. Share it with me, tell me what
you’ve been going through. I want to know what’s happening inside you,” he
explained.

She bowed her head, “Is there any point?”

“More than you know.”

Moira exhaled slowly, letting the tension out of her
shoulders, and then she began, starting with the girl she had played chess with
in the mountains. She went on to describe her escape from the dungeon in the
palace of Halam, the discovery that she had inadvertently created an exact copy
of herself, and the way that it had enabled her to do many things at once. Her
tension returned as she talked about the battle outside the city, but she held
nothing back. She explained about her twins seizing control of the citizens
and how some of them had taken control of the wellsprings of their hosts.

The worst part was telling him about her battle with
Celior, but she did it anyway, even describing the transformation she had
undergone as she tortured the false-god. It was awful, admitting it all to
him, but her heart felt better for it. She might be evil, but at least she
would die honestly.

When she finished he said only one thing, “Take down
your shields.” He was standing directly in front of her.

Not yet, I need more time,
she
thought. Her eyes had been dry throughout her story, but tears sprang from
them now. Reluctantly, she lowered her defenses.

Mordecai lowered his own shield and then he wrapped
his arms around her, hugging her tightly. “I’m so sorry all that happened to
you.”

Now!
The thought sprang
at her from the back of her mind, but she pushed it aside. She wouldn’t attack
him, no matter what. She tried to talk, but her throat wasn’t cooperating.
Nothing came out but quiet sobs. Finally, she managed to say, “I’m sorry,
Daddy.”

“Shhhh, it’s alright. It wasn’t your fault.”

“But it
was
!” she cried. “If I had known the
circle keys, I could have just come home. I could have gotten help.”

Mordecai squeezed her tighter, “Nobody is perfect.
That might have been better, but maybe not. What if your mother had come? Who
knows what might have happened? Maybe she could have done something else, or
maybe she would have gotten herself killed. Would you have blamed yourself
then? If there’s one thing I’ve learned over the years, it’s that the ‘what
ifs’ never help.”

“But I’m a monster now…”

He chuckled deep in his chest, “Yes, you’re my dear
sweet little monster, and I love you anyway.”

“
What?
”

He pulled his head back to look down at her, “Did you
think I wouldn’t love you anymore? Silly thing, daddies never stop loving
their little girls.”

She cried harder then, as all the pressure that had
built up in her over the past weeks slowly made its way out. He held her and
uttered soothing words, as though she were still a little girl, but it didn’t
bother her. At that moment it was all she wanted.

Eventually she grew still, empty of everything.
Wiping at her eyes with a sleeve she asked, “What are you going to do?”

“Well, I’m not going to kill you, if that’s what you
think. You can just forget that nonsense now,” he replied.

“But I’m not safe.”

“Neither am I,” he said simply. “None of us are,
although some are more dangerous than others.”

Moira frowned, wondering if he really understood, “No,
I could destroy everything. I might take over the whole world.”

“Yeah, me too,” he answered wryly. Looking her firmly
in the eye he went on, “Power is power, Moira. It comes in different flavors,
but it’s all the same. By your rationale I should have been put to death a
long time ago, but here I am. What is important is whether you are willing to
take responsibility for yourself.”

“I’m not human anymore, Dad. It’s not the same. I’m
turning into something else. You can’t trust me. Eventually I’ll lose
control,” she added, trying to explain.

Mordecai laughed again, “Yeah, she tried to feed me
that bullshit too, and I think she believes it herself.”

“But it’s true.”

“Only if you believe it,” he said confidently. “Would
you like to know how I know?”

She nodded, a feeling of hope beginning to rise within
her.

“Because the Centyr family doesn’t know everything.
They saw the ones that went bad, the ones they caught. Do you really think
those were the only ones that broke the rules? In a thousand years, how many
Centyr mages do you think gave in to temptation and used their power to change
someone’s mind?”

Moira stared at him blankly, “I don’t know…”

Her father smiled, “That’s right! You don’t. No one
does. I can tell you this, though. It was far more than the few that went
bad, far more than the ones they know about. I would venture to guess that at
least half of all the Centyr wizards that ever lived tried it at least once.
It’s just human nature. Your power is dangerous, and subtle in a way that few
powers are, but it is still only a tool. I understand it harms the user too,
but your choices are still your own.

“Besides, I have at least one other reason to believe
you won’t destroy the world, or enslave it.”

“What’s that?” she asked.