“No,” she said. “Why?”
For a long while Ogden was silent, staring off into the dimness. Ysira let him take as long as he needed. She knew this feeling, of preparing to disclose something she could not take back.
She would have understood if he chose to say nothing at all.
At last, he met her eyes and said, “You know, by now, that weak telepaths on this world are often targets of the Harvest. Most are used to power their technology. When I was a boy, the Church sent seekers through my village, assessed me, and found my gifts too limited to be of use to their order. A few years later, I was Harvested. I was to be something the Firstborn call anavigator.”
Faster-than-light travel.That limbless boy with the exposed brain—helpless and sightless, world reduced to the inside of a ship and the unknowable expanse of the Source. Suddenly, so much made perfect sense. Ysira’s questions, and her horror, must have been plain on her face.
“They treat their navigators well at first,” Ogden said.“They want us healthy, in prime mental and physical condition for many years of service. We’re fed and cared for as they test ourabilities and tell us we’ve been chosen to serve their empire. A whole new universe had opened up to me. It was beautiful, Ysira. To see the stars like that . . .” He closed his eyes and almost shivered. “To this day, I’d give anything to see it again.”
“I know,” she said quietly. She would never forget the feel of that cold glass against her fingers as she’d stood among the stars, nor that sense of holding all Celes Lor in the palm of her hand.
“So many worlds, so many possibilities, and it was a goddess who taught me.Turil.The Lady of Pain. I had never been one for religion, but for a time, Ibelieved.”Ogden lifted a metal arm, flexing his fingers and examining them in a detached sort of way. “It cost me everything.” Ysira could guess what must have happened next. But Ogden kept talking, ever more distant, as if narrating the facts of someone else’s life.
“I befriended Urien while I was among them. When he learned the truth of what was to become of me, he told me. Like a fool, I begged Turil for mercy.” His lip curled. “As I understand it, the process of creating a navigator is much more effective when the subject goes willingly. My foreknowledge ruined that. And so, my goddess told me she’d make me wish for that fate,begfor it. She took my legs first. She made me crawl. She took my hands. My arms. My genitals. She served my limbs at a dinner party and made me watch, as I hung on her wall like a piece of art.”
There was agony in Ogden, etched deep into the lines of his face. He took another breath, shaking off the story like a fading nightmare. “I owe Urien my life. He gave me new limbs and a chance at a new future, at the expense of everything he’d ever known.”
“That’s why you took me in,” Ysira realized. “We were the same.” “That was one factor.” Ogden’s expression softened. “I helped you because you were in need, like any patient. And Ged would have let you die.” He smiled sadly. “When I guessed thetruth, perhaps I felt more compelled than I otherwise would have to keep you safe. I came to care for you, and Neri, more than I ever anticipated.”
“Neri told me he gets a treatment once every cycle for his breathing problems,” Ysira said. “That’s you, isn’t it? You’ve been using Firstborn technology.”
“The best approximation I can manufacture, yes. Urien and I stole what we could, when we escaped, and I’ve put it to good use in my clinic.” Ogden grew pensive. “Now that you know the truth, I would like to teach you more. You could be a proper apprentice, even a physician someday.”
Ysira was taken aback, but the old man waved a hand. “Think about it. You’d be better than you realize.”
As quickly as it had appeared, the vulnerability in Ogden’s demeanor faded. His features hardened into familiar steel. “I could not have known events would play out as they have. But if Neri Semira is the one who brings our world freedom—vengeance—I will consider my latter years well spent.” Ogden leaned toward her. “We cannot waste this chance, Ysira. No half measures. If the Lady of Pain lives, I lack the power to kill her myself, but I will see her destroyed. Before I breathe my last, I will see their empire reduced to dust.”
Ysira took his hands. He’d never allowed her to do that before—never let her feel the hard metal beneath his gloves. She squeezed them tight and said, “You’ll have your revenge, and you’ll see those stars again. We all will. I have a plan.”
“And you have my support. But you know what would make this all much simpler.” Ogden looked back at Neri once again struggling to channel energy.
Integration.Ysira would not force it on her son. But he would come to understand. Hehadto. He would realize the risk was worthwhile and he would rise to the occasion, because herplans hinged not only on that world-shattering power but on the faith it inspired.
“You’ve seen this empire up close,” Ysira said. “Even if Neri figures this out, do you think we stand a chance?”
“I know Naxal’s power is no fiction. Moreover, the fervor this could inspire, with the proper leverage, at the proper pressure points . . .” Ogden scratched his beard, considering, and when he locked Ysira’s gaze again, she knew he understood. “It is far from a half measure. But faith, as a means of control, is volatile. If it breaks . . . the breaking is violent. And you’ll only know it’s taken root when you’ve lost all control.”
“What’s your advice, then?” Ysira asked.
He offered a humorless smile. “Don’tlose control.”
31
COMMUNION
JACEN
When Jacen woke from a mercifully dreamless sleep, there was no sign of Seth or Ysira. They must have thought they were being kind, leaving him to rest. But now that he was alone, all the sustaining momentum of the last days slammed to a halt.
What was he supposed to do now?
He stared at the floor for a time, then wandered into the hall and almost collided with a militiaman on patrol. Jacen must have looked awful, because the man politely suggested he bathe. With nothing better to do, Jacen followed him along the river to a dark, low-ceilinged cave honeycombed with pools. It lay empty, silent but for the trickling of little waterfalls. A chiseled signpost suggested this place had once been a busy bathhouse.
Once he was alone, Jacen stripped out of his robes. Slowly at first, with trembling hands, and then he couldn’t tolerate them on his skin a second longer. He threw them aside and staggered into the steaming water, submerging himself. Bathing was among the first things he tended to neglect when his moodsgrew dark, and now he worried he might never bring himself to come back out. He scrubbed his skin raw, half-wishing it would peel off to reveal a better, saner man underneath. Finally, he just wept. Inertia at last.
He failed to sense Ysira until she was practically right behind him.
