by T. C. Edge
The thought gives me more strength. I draw in, focussing specially on the three soldiers manning the control station. I get a sense that they're in conversation, speaking of the assault, the bombardment of Haven. Gradually, their words form in my head, each of their voices distinct as I crouch out of sight and hidden, eavesdropping with nothing but the power of my own mind.
A throb of glee runs through me, a feeling of greater control harnessed. And in the depths, deep in my mind, I can feel Zander's presence too, pulling the strings, guiding my focus, a crutch for me to use when I begin to lose my way.
Together, we are becoming something I could never have imagined.
I begin to fall into the conversation, so tantalised by the experience as I listen to the men speak, hear their voices manifest in my mind, created by nothing but the signals I can sense in their brains. But I know I'm not here to eavesdrop. I have something bigger in mind.
Before, I've been able to enter the minds of single individuals, control them from afar without the need for eye contact. I've been able to assume control of their bodies entirely, becoming them for a few moments, guiding their every action as they sit, paralysed, within their own physical forms.
I've been able to shout into multiple minds, sending visions into them or giving warning, as I did with the council when we assembled, and with Marcus and his soldiers when we came under attack.
But never have I assumed control of several people at once. Never have I entered the minds of multiple people, forcing them to do my will.
Until now...
I know, without any shred of doubt or uncertainty, that I can do exactly that. Before I even take the action, before I slip into the minds of the three men at once, I know it's possible. I can feel it, deep in my core. And down there, I hear Zander calling out.
It's easy, Brie. For you, this is easy...
His voice, as ever, urges me on, and I dip at once, without hesitation or delay, into the three consciousnesses manning the control station beyond the shield. The sensation is odd, though familiar at the same time. Instead of feeling the essence of only one mind, or gazing upon a single mental landscape, I see three, each separate and yet lined up, as though all within my grasp, all under my control.
I know, immediately, that I have them now. I know that whatever I whisper into their minds will be acted out without question.
Disable the shield, comes my voice, working into all three minds simultaneously. Open the gate, and await my arrival. I will be with you soon.
I wait, a moment, for the order to take effect. One guard takes to it immediately. The other two require a moment longer, as though their inner essence, their inner being, is fighting against my controls.
The fight...doesn't last long. With a smile, I open my eyes back up, and peek over the log that gives us cover.
"Did it work?" I hear Marcus whisper.
I don't answer. I don't need to. A moment later, the shimmering blue light, stretching between two of the metal pylons, begins to crackle and fade. It takes a couple of seconds before it's gone entirely, providing a clear view, and clear passage, into the enemy camp beyond.
Marcus's lips break open again, his eyes glinting as they turn on me. "See. I knew you could do it."
I nod, trying to keep my excitement in check, knowing full well that this isn't over yet.
"We still need to get to the cells," I say. "Come on, before the soldiers break free of my control."
Staying quiet, we rush through the shield and into the camp, moving immediately towards the three enemy soldiers manning the gate. All turn to me, their eyes filled with the misty quality that always seems to infect those taken over by another mind.
"Shut the gate," I say to them. "When we return, you will open it again. Then you will forget we were ever here at all."
They nod robotically, and turn back to the controls, resealing the energy shield as I turn to look into the camp. There seems to be a bit of movement off in the distance, the sound of light gunfire catching on the wind. It's hard to tell with the bombardment ongoing, a little louder here as we get nearer to their front lines.
"Is that gunfire?" I whisper to Marcus.
He nods, listening closely. "Must be our men raiding the lookout posts on the other side, testing their defences."
"Good," I say. "It'll help keep them distracted that way." I turn my attention to a collection of barracks and buildings off to the side, a little way from the shield. "The cells are over there. We haven't got much time."
I begin moving off, taking the lead, though Marcus quickly catches up. His senses are more attuned than mine, his hearing in particular far more effective. Listening, and keeping a close watch, we creep towards the cluster of buildings, quite aware that there are probably a host of soldiers sleeping within them.
I stop, checking, drawing upon my new powers. Shutting my eyes, I try to get a sense of the brain activity around me. The picture that appears suggests that each barrack is almost full, dozens of soldiers within the vicinity. Only a couple, if I'm right, are still awake, unable to sleep, their minds accosted by fears and concerns at the coming battles ahead.
"We can't make a sound," I whisper, looking to Marcus. "If they signal for help, we'll be immediately overrun."
He nods, quite aware of the perils of our current predicament. "How many soldiers manning the cells?"
"Only two," I say. "They're on a rotating schedule. One outside, one in."
"OK, let me deal with the first," he says. "I'll be silent as a mouse, promise."
I agree, though not with my full support. "Fine. Take him down, and I'll see to the second. Ready?"
"Always."
"Then let's get this done."
We move, slipping off quietly towards the temporary prison. The layout of the camp is exactly as I discovered in the minds of those sentry guards, the cells close to the shield, separated a little from the larger concentration of hastily-erected buildings in the centre of the base.
It takes us only a few moments to reach it, stopping occasionally when Marcus hears something, or spots a soldier ahead, wandering through camp or popping out from his barrack to use the facilities. Before long, we're coming in towards the rear of the cell, the guard stationed outside on the other side of the building, in front of the door.
I stop, once more, and look to Marcus.
OK, make it quick, and don't make a sound, I tell him. I'll try to take the guard inside from out here. Make him open the door for us.
Marcus nods, understanding.
Then, with a smirk, he speeds off, hardly giving me a second to complete my own task. I shake my head, shut my eyes, and enter the strange cerebral dimension within my mind. The world turns grey and murky once more, the presence of those around me beginning to appear. It takes a split second for the brain signals given off by the guard outside the door to change. I sense a panic, only briefly, before his brain waves change as he falls unconscious, Marcus evidently doing his job well.
And, most importantly, without making a sound.
I focus on the inside, through the wall of the prison. There are several people in there. One more guard and...Rhoth.
The thought of the Fang forces me to act. Without hesitating, I try to breach the guard's mind, working inside to take command. It's not so easy, his mental 'security' trying to press me back, his mind harbouring its own natural defences and immunities.
He'll know...if I don't do this quickly, he'll know there's trouble. He'll know that there's a telepath trying to get into his head.
I try harder, press further, trying to find a way inside. I can sense him growing agitated, moving towards the door, getting ready to shout out a warning. I try to hold him back but it's no use. He struggles against my intrusions, his mind repelling me, stamping to the exit.
I can sense him reaching for the door. His hand grips the handle, his brain forming words of warning, ready to call out, too quick even for Marcus to notice, to stop him, to silence him before he can give aw
ay our intrusion.
He begins pulling the door open. His mouth opens. The words start rumbling up his throat...
There. A pathway in. It's there...
I rush through, finally finding my way, and dart into the open spaces of his mind. Beyond the security, he's nothing. This is no immunity, but a man with contrived defences. I smile as I realise the truth, the man's mind simple and there for the taking. And before he can call, before he can step out, I assume control of his body.
He stops, frozen where he stands, as I open my eyes, breathing heavily out. I quickly move around the side of the building to find Marcus there, looking a little tense. He peeks through the half-open door to see the guard there, hand on the handle, mouth half agape, eyes staring as he looks out in alarm. Completely frozen.
He prods at him, but the soldier doesn't react, merely rocking slightly from side to side.
"You turned him to stone," he mumbles quietly.
I push the young Neoroman in the back, moving him inside as the frozen soldier is pressed back, teetering and threatening to fall to the floor. Marcus is quick enough to dash around and catch him, stopping him before he hits with a bump. I move in and shut the door, finding myself in a dim, unpleasant space. There are cells along both sides, cramped and small, separated by a narrow corridor. At the back, I see an opening, giving access to what looks like a torture chamber, filled with grim utensils and tools of pain.
Blood. There's blood on the walls, among other such stains. The smell is pungent, immediately working up my nose as I turn my attention to the cells on each side. Through the dim light, I take in the forms of several men, five of them, all half naked and beaten, their bodies littered with numerous cuts and scrapes and bruises, likely among other, more morbid injuries.
I step quickly down the corridor, scanning.
"What should I do with this one?" Marcus asks, still holding the frozen soldier.
"Nothing," I say. "I'll deal with him in a bit. Just prop him up somewhere."
My eyes work from cell to cell, Fang to Fang, across men I recognise. All of them appear to be asleep or unconscious, their hands locked in chains, strung up against the walls at the back so they can't get comfortable. A form of torture to break them down, make them easier for the telepaths to work with.
The cells are all locked. I turn back to Marcus. "Check him for keys," I whisper harshly. Then I frown. "And grab the guy outside! We can't just leave him unconscious out there!"
He seems to realise the folly of it, choosing to take the second order first. He slips out quietly, returning a moment later with the second guard in tow. The man has no visual sign of injury. I suspect Marcus was able to subdue him through one of his 'special' means, choosing one of the weak points on his body to quickly disable him.
Placing the man down, he searches the frozen guard - still comically locked in the same position he adopted when I froze him - and quickly comes up with a pair of keys. He tosses them to me then hurries over.
"They're all out," he says, looking at the Fangs. "If we can't wake them, how are we going to get them out of here?"
"Leave it with me," I say. "I'll bring them around."
He holds up his hands and steps back, letting me work. I grab the keys, open the first cell, and step inside. My eyes fall on my primary target. Rhoth, strung up, his pelt removed from his upper body, blood mingled in among the hair of his chest. His beard is the same, caked in crusted blood, his lips cracked and face badly bruised. I quickly search through the keys and find another to unlock his chains.
"Help me," I say, a his large frame begins slumping to the ground, sure to hit with a thump if I let him go. Marcus rushes in and takes the weight, lowering his body down.
He looks at the man with a wide-eyed gaze. "Savage looking man isn't he?" he says.
I glare at him.
"That's not a bad thing, Brie," he says. "I''m just saying...look at him."
I do, and know what he means. I've known Rhoth a while now and no longer look at him as I did at first. It's hard to deny how ferocious and feral he looks when you first encounter him. But behind it all, there's a kind, gentle man. A fierce hunter and fighter, yes, but a loyal and respected leader of a simple, mostly peaceful people.
It pains me to see him like this. How many more times are he and his people going to get embroiled in our troubles?
I kneel down to him, and press my hand to his forehead. He's warm, running a fever. I shut my eyes and seek a way in. Unlike the guard, Rhoth does have a natural immunity. Any telepath would have trouble getting information from he or his men. But I have no choice. I have to get in.
I do so calmly, gently, 'caressing' my way in, calling out softly into his mind.
Wake up, Rhoth, I say. It's me, Brie. I've come to get you and your men out. Wake up. Wake up. Be calm, be silent...and wake up...
I feel a stirring, the embers beginning to fire. I open my eyes and draw back into the grimy cell. He comes back into view before me, battered and bruised, his eyelids beginning to flicker.
I keep my hand to his forehead, and continue to whisper softly to him.
"Rhoth, it's me, Brie," I say. "Wake up, Rhoth. We're here to get you out."
His eyes continue to open, flickering as they begin to see me, drawing him out of darkness and back into the light. He looks at me for a moment before his cracked lips split open, his voice dry as the desert as it croaks from up his throat.
"B-Brie," he says. "Is...is that you, girl."
I slowly withdraw my hand from his head. "It's me, Rhoth," I say, smiling. "I'm here to help."
His eyes lazily move to Marcus, crouched beside me. "Who is this one," he asks, in his own inimitable way. "You ditched the Savant boy already?"
"He's just a friend," I say, glancing at Marcus, who grins at Rhoth's words. I can sense he likes him already after a comment like that. "He helped me get into the camp. But we don't have much time. We have to leave immediately."
Rhoth's eyes sway left and right, still weakened. "So we're still here," he grunts, breathing through his nose. "Curse these people."
With Marcus's help, we draw Rhoth up to his feet, displaying his full height for the first time. He cuts a more intimidating figure than ever, bare of chest, muscular and hairy, bloodied and cleaved. Marcus looks up to him, quite impressed. I imagine he reminds him of the sort of foreign barbarians rounded up to fight in the Imperial Games.
"We need to wake the others," I say. "Rhoth, help me. We have to keep them calm when I bring them around."
"They will be calm," Rhoth says. "These are Fangs. We withstand torture and say nothing. We will not crack now."
He proves me right as I swiftly work to wake the other men, gently bringing them back to full consciousness as I did with Rhoth. I see Marcus waiting by the door, occasionally peering out, looking for the returning patrol.
"Hurry up, Brie," he hisses from across the cells. "We don't have much time."
"I know, Marcus," I return, tense. "You think I don't know that?"
I leave the Fangs with Rhoth, though quickly check to make sure that they're all capable of walking, and ideally at pace. Rhoth assures me with his usual confidence that they will be fine. He runs a finger along one of his gashes, wiping blood across his chest.
"These are scratches, girl, nothing more," he says. "Our legs work fine." He looks to his men and they nod their agreement. "Lead us on, mighty one. We will leave our words of thanks for later."
"There's no need for them, now or ever," I say. "I was never going to leave you here, Rhoth."
He lays a hand on my shoulder. "Then take the words now," he says, setting me with an endless stare. "Thank you, Brie. We will never forget this."
"Not unless I make you," I joke. "I'm not doing this so you owe me. I don't want that."
He smiles brightly. "No choice, girl. We will repay in kind when we can."
"Brie!" I spin around to see Marcus by the door. "Can we move along now? Save the reunion for, you know, when we
get the hell out of this viper's nest!"
"Right..."
I hurry over, the Fangs in my wake, and quickly perform a little more work on the two downed soldiers. I wake up the one Marcus knocked out, setting his mind to forget everything that happened as soon as we leave, and to remain at his post outside until dawn arrives. The second, I unfreeze, his limbs coming back to life, his semi-gawping mouth widening fully as he prepares to bellow his belated warning call.
I halt him before he can, taking him under my spell, and order him to remain here at his post with, like his comrade, absolutely no knowledge of what transpired here this evening. To remove any chance of him giving warning when he sees that the prisoners are missing, I order him to take a nap. Everyone, Rhoth included, watches on with a note of silent fascination as the soldier nods at me, moves towards one of the dank, dirty cells, and curls up inside.
Within moments, he's asleep, his mind empty of all of this, and not set to wake until the inevitable knocking comes in the early morning, relieving him of his duty. I have to say, I'm a little disappointed I won't be here to witness the confusion that will greet them when they find the cells empty.
"OK, that'll do here," I say, as Marcus peeps out through the door again. "Now, straight back to the shield, and we're gone."
Marcus stays silent, checking the coast is clear. Then he turns. "Well, we'd better get going now," he says. "I think the patrol is coming back around."
The words force our haste. Without a further second to delay, and with a final warning to the Fangs to stay silent - something they're quite used to and adept at, excellent hunters as they are - we move back the way we came, heading through the camp and right towards the shield. There, we find the soldiers manning it awaiting us. As I ordered, they immediately set about opening the shield for our departure.
It begins to fade, its blue shimmer weakening. I turn my eyes through the camp and note movement in the distance, the patrol strolling along in our direction.
