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Yohan's lesser defenses had been overwhelmed. His mind radiated gore-a gathering of dwarves cut down and mutilated by mounted soldiers-until she pinched the bridge of his nose. His thoughts righted themselves quickly and he caught her hand before she could administer a similar mercy to the writhing elf.
"No time! Which way? Where's it coming from?"
She swung her mind's attention from the visible world to the Unseen one where an evil drone echoed everywhere. No matter what she did, she couldn't localize the attack, which was continuing. "I-I don't know. It's everywhere-" Then another, more horrible thought rose from her own imagination. "We're surrounded."
"We've got to try-" Yohan towed her toward the door. "Maybe they're not looking for us."
But she knew, as soon as he said the words, that the attack had been directed at them-even though it caught the apothecary and a dozen street-side passersby in its net. And the Quraite farmers, as well. They'd both collapsed beside the cart. Blood seeped from the nose, mouth, and ears of the man who'd lost his knife. Akashia touched him lightly and withdrew. His life essence had been driven out; there was nothing she could do for him.
The other farmer was still alive, but his mind remained empty after she banished the ravening beasts of his nightmares. His sense of self might come back of its own, given enough time--but there wasn't any time at all. Luckless city-dwellers lay on the ground, a few of them bleeding like the first fanner, the others wailing in their misery as the attack continued.
A ragged, half-grown boy crouched warily a short step away from one of the fallen passersby. He reached for the coin purse looped over the man's belt and suffered no ill-effects until, in trying to tug it free, his head and shoulders leaned forward. Then he collapsed with a shriek. She thought he might roll free, but in an instant the mind-bending attack had paralyzed him and he was as helpless as the others. Still she knew how to defeat the assault.
"We can get away." She grappled with the living, but mindless farmer, trying to lift him into the zarneeka cart. "The attack's a sphere that's held right here. If we can get outside it-"
Yohan pulled her away from the farmer and the cart. "No time," he snarled. "Is he still attacking?''
"He?" She listened with her mind's ears and heard the strident drone still battering futilely against her defenses.
"He. She. What difference does it make? Is it continuing?"
"Yes. The same as before. I can't tell where it's coming from. It still seems to be coming from everywhere at once." "Then it doesn't matter where we go." Yohan kept a firm left-side grip on-her wrist, to keep them together and remain within the protective sphere of the mind-bending defenses she maintained. He scanned the streets and shado
ws beyond the apothecary. They were empty now, except for those Urikites unfortunate enough to get caught in the attack. She guessed that even the scroungers had fled once they saw the boy collapse. She thought their chances for escape were good and tried to pull back to the cart.
"Forget them. Stay close. You're what's important," he snarled. "He's out there," the dwarf said more softly, making a slow study of the nearest rooftops. "I can feel him."
She believed him; sometimes an individual with a wild mind-bending talent could do things, discern enemies, that a trained mind could not. They moved carefully among the stricken Urikites until they crossed an unseen boundary and the drone, but not Yohan's wariness, diminished.
"Hide us," he commanded as they sneaked around one corner, then another.
But hiding in Urik was not like hiding in Quraite. There was no guardian to invoke or familiar lands in which to lose themselves. She could use the Unseen Way to trick another mind into not seeing what was right before his or her eyes. But mind-bending was all illusion and completely dependent on her ability to find the one or many who were attacking them. She tried again to trace the attack to its source, now that they were beyond its range-and encountered a defensive barrier as strong as Telhami's and darker than she'd imagined that anything could be.
Nothing she knew would pierce the mind-bender's defense or insert an illusion behind it. She wasn't even certain how far away the mind-bender was. Though if he-now that Yohan had planted the notion in her head, it seemed to Akashia that the attack had had a distinctly masculine aura-was not physically nearby, then he was that much more skilled, that much stronger.
And the mind-bender's presence didn't lessen as they walked through the market, trying not to attract attention.
"We're being followed." She said, with real fear in her heart and voice. "Watched."
They were deep in the elven market now, alongside the towering yellow walls in an area where nomadic elves hoisted their tents for the days or weeks they spent inside Urik. When the Moonracers-the only nomad tribe Akashia knew by name or sight-visited Quraite, they were courteous guests, welcomed with feasting, singing, and dancing. Here in the market, though the clothes and colors were familiar, the faces were unfriendly, even cruel.
"The door?" Yohan asked while making intricate movements with his hands.
Her eyes widened, and so did the elf's, revealing a glimmer of cooperation. She thought that they'd found help, hoped and prayed that they'd found it. But he cocked his head, like a jozhal sniffing the wind; he was kenning her with the Unseen Way and sensed both her defenses and the attack that caused her to raise them.
"Sundown," he said with a semblance of regret. "Come back at sundown and it will be opened. Live that long, my friend, and return."
He held the first two fingers of his right hand against his chin, a gesture that conveyed silence and respect and something more that she could not interpret. Then he took a step backward and quickly disappeared into the maze of tents. "What was that?"
Yohan muttered under his breath before answering: "An old debt. Very old. But debts have to be paid, Kashi. Never forget that. We can collect at sundown."
"He called you friend." Friendship was not casual among elves, especially nomadic tribes. "Who was he?"
"Never met him before."
He started back the way they'd come. Their enemy hadn't given up. The sense that they were being watched or followed lingered throughout a long, frustrating afternoon. It ebbed occasionally-Yohan could walk in her protection without holding her hand-and intensified when they tried to return to the alley where they'd abandoned the cart and their companion. She fretted with guilt about the farmer, but, the dark pressure against her defenses never let up completely, and she understood that there were rescues she didn't dare attempt.
And there were those she had to plan immediately.
