"I know," he replied, more gently. "It was only a dream, anyway. I could as well have lost you to some head-blind fool in a marriage your brother arranged."

That almost happened. She reached out to brush the back of his hand with her fingertips, a telepath's contact, the only way she would ever touch him.

"We always were friends, Rorie."

He nodded. "This much is true. I think it would actually help to work in your circle, for that will make it all the more real to me that the girl I once knew has grown into something else. If you were another man's wife, or a pledged virgin, then I would also turn my thoughts away from you."

Dyannis rose as he took his leave of her. The encounter had gone better than she had dared hope, yet the feeling of disquiet remained, just beyond reach.

She thought again of Varzil, this time deliberately searching the psychic firmament for any trace of his presence. A pulse of response, like the faint ripple from a beating heart, distant but bright, answered her. He was well, then, but beyond the reach of ordinary telepathy.

The memory of Eduin rose to her thoughts and the sense of unease intensified. Perhaps she had been right in thinking she must resolve her feelings about him before she was truly free to go on with her life. She picked up her mug, realized the jaco had now gone cold, and put it down.

It was all so annoying. She'd known Eduin for only a short time, when she was still a child in many ways. The luminosity that surrounded her memories came from her own inexperience with love-if it were love after all. Here Dyannis got up and began to pace. She had loved him, with that intense, never-to-be-repeated exhilaration of first awakening. What might have happened, had the relationship been allowed to run its natural course, she would never know. In all likelihood, they would have passed from infatuation to disillusionment and thence perhaps to a lingering affection.

When he had come to Hali Tower, years later, he had changed. A shadow lay upon him, masking the heart that had once seemed so transparent, so infinitely tender.

And then again, at the lake at Hali...

Of course, he had become a different man by then. He'd been outlawed, hiding, in the company of other desperate men. She thought, with the ruthless self-honesty of a Keeper, that she did not want to surrender those first memories, to admit that the boy she had once cherished to distraction had become a criminal, possibly even, if Varzil were right, the worst kind of murderer. That must be why he haunted her, like a basso harmony hovering beyond the reach of her senses. Had she been wrong about him all along, remembering only who she wanted him to be and not who he truly was?

Let him go, she told herself. Let the past rest.

Resolving to do just that, she fortified her laran barriers and tried to go back to sleep. She hovered on the edge for what seemed like hours, marking the passage of time by the beating of her own heart. Eventually, she slipped into an uneasy jumble of dreams, half-formed and restless. She could not shake the feeling that someone was talking, saying things of importance just beyond her hearing. Though she pushed and twisted through the shifting landscape, she could not make out the words.

The sense of dread intensified as her dreams shifted. Smoking blood dripped from the sky, rocks cried aloud in agony, people she ought to know but could not name ran shrieking past her, trailing snakes instead of hair.

She seemed to be in some bizarre version of the Overworld, bounded on every side by walls of fire that grew ever closer.

Dyannis awoke, sitting upright in her bed, shaking. It was full day now and unseasonably warm, yet she had broken into a cold sweat. She shivered as if gripped by a fever. Wrapping her arms around herself, she rocked back and forth until at last the trembling subsided. She wished Varzil were still at Hali so she could talk things over with him, but he had departed on his latest mission several days ago.

Eventually, she was able to get out of bed, wash her face and hands, and call for a servant to help her comb her hair and to dress.

As soon as she had composed herself, Dyannis sought out Raimon. She might be functioning on a daily basis as a full-fledged Keeper, but she was still under his care and command.

When I am truly a Keeper, what then? she wondered as she waited in his sitting chamber.Who will be the Keeper's Keeper?

He listened gravely as she described her nightmares. "I am sorry it has come to this," he sighed. "I have seen a similar increase in sensitivity in other Keepers as they progress through their training. Of course, none of them was as hard on himself, as ruthless I should say, as you have been."

They were all men.

"What of that?" he answered her unspoken thought. "If Varzil is correct, there are as many differences between one male Keeper and the next as there are between men as a whole and women. Each of us comes to our own understanding and acceptance of the discipline, just as no two of us join the minds of our circle together in the same way."

Dyannis admitted he was correct. "So you think what happened to me is the result of overwork and worry?"

"That is my first presumption, yes." He sat back in his chair to regard her with that level, pellucid gaze, and refrained from reminding her how he had urged her to rest, not to push herself so hard.

"It is all very well to tell me to take some time off!" she said. Her voice resonated with a heat that surprised her. "Your circle will continue to do the most necessary work. But what if there were not two of us? What if I were alone, the only Keeper of Hali Tower? What would I do then?"

Raimon's eyes darkened. "I understand what you fear, that the time may indeed come when there are so few of us, each Tower has only one Keeper.

It is this very fate Varzil is hoping to avert by training women as well as men.

For the time being, we shall let the matter rest. There are few things less productive than worrying about a future that may or may not come about. I know you, Dyannis, and I will not allow you to distract me from telling you what you do not wish to hear. If you will not take a suggestion, then I must give you an order. You must have rest and quiet. These nightmares are but a warning. If you do not heed it, they will only get worse. Will you risk your circle as well as yourself by continuing to work when you are unfit?"

"I will not work if I am not able to do so properly," she said stubbornly. Even as she said the words, she knew he was right. "I won't go home again, if that's what you mean. This is my home, the place I belong."

"You could spend a tenday or so at Thendara with King Carolin and Queen Maura," he suggested. "I believe you and Maura were friends when she was here at Hali."

That was true enough. Maura had always been kind to her, and she would understand the demands of responsibility. Yet something held her back from leaving Hali Tower. The best she could manage was to agree to think about it.

Raimon knew better than to press the issue. "In the meantime, you might consider the use of a telepathic damper while you sleep. It's not comfortable, but it will shield you from the thoughts and emotions of those around you: You might sleep better for it."

Dyannis frowned. She'd worked with dampers as part of her training and never liked them. "It feels like stuffing my head with wool and wrapping my eyes and ears in gauze. But," she sighed, "at least I'd get some sleep."

Raimon sent a servant to search for one. "It's been a long time since any of us needed such a device. Years ago, when Eduin MacEarn worked among us, he requested the use of one."

Eduin needed a telepathic damper? A shiver ran across her shoulders. Of course, he needed to guard his sleeping thoughts, lest some stray thought betray him. She did not know whether to feel anger, sorrow, or pity.

All of them, I think. Raimon answered her with unexpected gentleness. How else can any of us respond to such a tragedy?

You call what Eduin did, how he betrayed our trust in him, a tragedy?

I do. And so should you, and so should anyone who saw the potential in him. Do not embitter your memory of him with recriminations, Dyannis.

Let the past rest, but let it rest with all the joy and faith you once felt.

But- You were not deceived. The good you saw in him existed. And if what he has become is not a tragedy, I do not know the meaning of the word.

43

Rap! Rap! Rap!

The knocking would not go away, although Dyannis muttered curses at it.

She curled into a ball with her back to the door and drew the pillow over her ears. Her body felt thick and heavy, as if her flesh had turned to clay.

Something high-pitched, like the whirr of insects, buzzed along her nerves.

She had slept, how long she could not tell. Her body still craved rest, but the racket from the other side of the room continued, louder and faster than before.

Rap! Rap! Rap!

"Gods," she muttered, shoving the pillow aside. The room around her was as dark as her dreamless sleep. No light came from the direction of the window, but she might have drawn the curtains tight before falling into bed.

She could not remember.

"I'm coming." Her voice sounded like the croak of a frog.

Rap! Rap! Rap!

Forcing her stiff muscles to move, Dyannis got to her feet. She made the gesture to summon the blue light with her laran but none came. Was she so sluggish, then, that she could not perform even this simple beginner's spell? Her temples throbbed, and her head felt like a bag full of curdled cheese.

The telepathic damper was still on. Ah, that explained everything. She stumbled toward it, feeling her way. Her fingers brushed over the control mechanism. The next instant, the barely audible whine vanished.

She felt the dense, unmoving mineral hardness of the walls, the brightness of the pale translucent stone panels, the intense concentration of a working circle, their minds like flares of inner-lit jewels, the distant murmur of cloud-water from Hali Lake, the vast sweep of night above.

It was almost dawn; she could taste the rising light, the shift in temperature and moisture. She had slept only a few hours under the influence of the damper.

Moving confidently now through her darkened room, Dyannis went to the door and opened it. One of the young novices, an Elhalyn boy, stood with his fist raised to knock again. He held an ordinary candlestick in the other hand, and his eyes bulged slightly, ringed with white.

"Domna, I don't know what to do!" The child was trembling visibly. "Raimon is still working in the circle with the others and I dare not disturb him."

Dyannis knew that the night's work involved the synthesis of fire-fighting chemicals, destined for Verdanta and High Kinally. There were a number of steps in the process when the elements became unstable, handled safely only through unwavering concentration of laran. As kindly as she could, she said, "There is nothing to fear. Whatever is the matter?"

"Three aircars-coming in fast-they won't answer us, not even Dom Rorie.

He sent me to ask you to come."

Dyannis frowned. Rorie was a strong telepath, skilled and experienced, and only trained leronyn could guide an aircar. If Rorie could not reach them with his mind, something terrible must have happened. Were the pilots all dead, then, or rendered unconscious by some spell or disease? That didn't seem likely. The aircars, cut off from motive power and guidance, would surely have dropped from the sky and not continued on their course.

"Where is he?"

"In the second laboratory, along with everyone else who is not working in Raimon's circle tonight."

Rorie?

Dyannis sensed Rorie's mind, bent in concentration upon the incoming aircars, but did not press him for a response. They must make preparations in case the aircar pilots were injured.

"Summon everyone with monitor's training and meet me there."

The boy scurried away, visibly relieved to have some definite task.

I will do no one any good if I rush off, thoughts scattered from here to the Hellers, emotions every which way, and still in my nightgown!

Hurriedly, Dyannis pulled on a shift and loosely belted working robe. She shoved her bare feet into a pair of worn suede sandals, using the time to put her thoughts in order. The discipline and calm she had practiced every waking hour since beginning her Keeper's training returned quickly.

She drew out her starstone to see what she could perceive directly about the aircars. Close by, Raimon's circle blazed with energy like a ring of blue fire.

She sensed Rorie and several others, their minds also alight. The Tower, which was not merely a physical structure but a psychic one as well, surrounded them all. She swept through its walls and upwards.

Sweet gods, the aircars were almost upon them!

Only a short distance from Hali Tower, three motes like encapsulated emptiness zoomed ever closer. They felt like nothing she had known, certainly not ordinary aircars, more like disturbances in the air currents with only the faintest auras of psychic energy.

Hail, aircars approaching Hali Tower! she called out.

Silence answered her. She might have been shouting into an empty sky.

Do you need help?

If the aircars did not change course, they would swoop over the topmost turrets in only a few minutes. As near as she could judge, they were too high to collide with the Tower. Even unguided, their momentum would carry them beyond. They might crash into the surrounding countryside or- Her breath caught in her throat-they might be heading for the lake.

The lake, and the Cataclysm device beneath it?

No, Varzil had sealed the rift, forever barring access to that terrible laran machinery. Perhaps these invaders did not know that. In the process of attempting to recover the Cataclysm device, what disaster might ensue? The cloud-water of the lake retained the vibrational pattern of its transformation. Dyannis knew all too well how readily it could transmit psychic energy.

A series of breaths heightened her trance, freeing her mind to quest deeper.

Perhaps if she searched on a wider band, not just the usual mode of telepathy, she could discover something about the intruders. She could not have done it a year ago, before she began her training as under-Keeper, but she had grown in skill as well as strength and confidence.

By shifting her own mode of mental listening, she was able to glimpse the patterns of inanimate glass and metal that comprised the aircars. Laran energy sizzled like tiny lightnings along the mechanisms that controlled the flying apparatus, wings and stabilizer fins. The craft were functional, then, and not derelict. Why could she not reach the pilots?

Dyannis pressed her search harder and brushed against a grating vibration.

Instantly she recognized an interference pattern like that generated by a telepathic damper. They must have found a way to surround themselves with a barrier impenetrable to laran and still be able to guide the aircars with their minds.

It was not impossible, just puzzling.

Unless they mean to wall themselves off from any possible communication or psychic influence...

Something tugged at the lower levels of her mind, a ripple, an ache, a calling. She paused in her reflections.

It came from the Overworld. Someone was crying out to her with an urgency that transcended the usual separation between the ordinary physical realm and that vast, formless region.

It made no sense that one of the pilots might be trying to reach her. This was no general plea for help, but rather a sending aimed at her specific mental pattern, which meant an intimate familiarity. It could not be one of the pilots.

The call came again, too faint for recognition yet imbued with desperate need. A cold shiver passed through her, as if some demon from Zandru's Hells ran its talons along her spine.

Dyannis summoned the image of Hali Tower in the Overworld, the psychic counterpart that she had helped to establish and maintain. This would be her anchor, as it had so many times in the past. In form and color, it re- sembled its physical counterpart, a slender structure of white set with panels of translucent stone, a bejeweled finger reaching for the heavens.

The next instant, she stood upon its threshold. The temperature and odor of the air shifted. She blinked, waiting for the distant gray horizon to come into focus. The sky would be overcast and featureless, the light diffuse. A flat plain would stretch in every direction, until she shaped it into something else.

Instead of a gray monotone overhead, an enormous boiling darkness rushed toward her, growing larger and closer with each passing moment. She had never seen anything like it, either in the physical realm or this one.

In its churning shadows, she glimpsed the form of a woman, face white as a polished skull, cloak whipping about.

Dyannis!

A man raced toward her, outstripping the storm. Although she could not make out his features, she instantly recognized the touch of his mind.

Sweet Cassilda, it's Eduin! What are you doing here?