Slave Race: 15/?
by Nan Smith and Linda Garrick
"I have not seen your friend,"
"That's a lie! He called me--told me you were trying to kill him!"
Her hand moved in a blur, slapping him. The blow flung him to the ground, half-stunned.
"Where is Cornelius?" Comishvor demanded.
Edwin rose to his knees, rubbing a hand across his eyes. The Lady faced her Lord, smiling mockingly. "I have not seen the psychic, My Lord, and this Procyon worm is lying." She jerked her chin scornfully in the direction of the trembling servant. "Kill him, My Lord, and let us go home."
"What are you doing here, My Lady, if you did not have Cornelius here?"
"I was flying over the ocean, admiring the scenery, and my servant, Sh'Floot, forced me out on this island at blaster point. He abandoned me here, and stole the aircar. When we find him, I want him killed, My Lord."
"She's lying!" Edwin struggled to his feet. "Cory was here! I sense him. Are you going to believe her, sir?"
"I cannot believe she would be so foolish as to try to kill Cornelius after being warned so many times."
"Then you're blind, sir!"
"The psychic is telling the truth, M'Lord," said Ch'Fink. "She brought Cory here, intending to kill him. She silenced Ch'Frat, my brother, and attempted to silence me. Sir, you must believe me..." The words ended in a grunt as Lady Gootishville swung her foot, catching the servant in the side.
Then the Lady smiled slowly. "Very well, M'lord, do you want the truth? You shall have it. Your psychic, Cornelius is dead." She laughed suddenly and shrilly. "Fool! You will believe anything! Yes, I brought that hateful Terran here, and killed him. His body lies somewhere at the bottom of this river."
Edwin started forward, a sob catching in his throat. Comishvor thrust him absently back. "You killed him?" His voice was deadly.
"Yes!" Again she laughed. "I hated him! He took my brother's wife away from him and brought her to you! He did not deserve to live!"
"You killed my psychic?"
"A stupid Terran, and you now have another one to replace him." She laughed, and the laugh was cut off in a shrill grunt as Comishvor slapped her. For an instant her head sagged, then came up again, her eyes blazing.
"You will regret that, Comishvor! I will inform my brother, and he will..." The word was cut off in another slap. "How dare you!"
Edwin paid no more attention. His mind was convulsed with grief over his friend. Sh'Fink bent his head, trilling mournfully.
The Procyon made no reply. Edwin turned sadly away, to stand beside the waterfall. The mist was cool on his hot face. Behind him he could hear the sound of blows and the infuriated shrieks of Lady Gootishville.
Grief overwhelmed him. Cory had fallen into this roaring torrent. His body could be kilometers away by now. Gootishville must have pursued him up this wall, caught him, and hurled him into the falls below. Cory wasn't a good swimmer. There was no way he could have survived in that terrible, howling torrent.
A clawed hand closed on his shoulder. It was Sh'Fink, huge, dark eyes filled with deep sadness. "Come, Edwin. There is nothing to be done."
Edwin leaned against the rock wall, the tears hot on his cheeks. He could sense his friend's recent presence here. Cory had climbed this wall, all right. He had called for help, but help had not arrived in time.
*Ed!* The call burst in his mind, bringing his face up. There could be no mistaking Cory's consciousness in his mind, Cory's voice speaking to him.
*Cory, where are you? I thought you were dead!*
*I'm escaping,* Cory's voice answered. *I got a way from Lady Gootishville's servant who rescued me from her.*
Cory was alive! The realization was like a great weight lifting from Edwin's shoulders, but with it came another realization. Cory must get away now, while Comishvor still thought he was dead. If his friend was re-captured, Lady Gootishville wasn't likely to fail again.
*Go!* He sent the command to his friend with all the urgency he could must behind it. *Go, pal. Don't tell me anything else. I'll find you.*
*But...*
*Go! Comishvor thinks you're dead, too, but he'll find out the truth soon enough. Go, now, while you still have the chance. There'll never be another one.*
Cory recognized the truth behind the words, and he knew Ed would come after him as soon as he could. *Bye, Ed. I'll be waiting for you.*
*Goodbye, Cor.*
The contact broke. Edwin took a deep breath and looked around. Sh'Fink still stood beside him, eyes downcast in grief. He mustn't guess--no one must guess that Cory still lived. If Comishvor found out, he would force Edwin to tell where they had agreed to meet. Of course, they had never established an exact location, but they wouldn't need to. Ed would locate Cory when he arrived on Corala.
But how to keep Comishvor from discovering the truth? If Comishvor found out, all hopes of getting away would be foiled. Edwin would be placed under constant guard, and a search would be instigated. Comishvor would attempt to force Edwin to trace Cory, and he could probably do it, too. Edwin had no illusions on that quarter. And Lady Gootishville must know that Cory wasn't really dead. Why would she go on letting her Lord think so? Revenge? Possibly.
Or was she planning to use Edwin to find Cory and then kill them both in her own sweet time? The thought sent shivers up his back.
Sh'Fink was bending over him, lifting him gently to his feet. He kept his head down as the alien led him back across the rocks toward Lord Comishvor. Lady Gootishville lay crumpled on the rocks at his feet, unmoving.
"Take him to the scout," commanded the Jilectan. He stooped, lifted the Lady. "I fear there is nothing more to be done. Cornelius is dead."
Edwin covered his face and sobbed. He felt Lord Comishvor's big hand on his shoulder. "I am most deeply grieved, Edwin. You know, do you not, that, had I realized our assailant was My Lady, I would never have left Cornelius behind?"
Edwin nodded, not lifting his face. They went across the clearing toward the scout.
Comishvor loaded the Lady inside and the Procyon half-carried Edwin through, Comishvor spoke to Gary.
"Call Sh'Floot. He must still be circling the island. Command him to return at once. We must go."
"Yes, M'Lord." Gary pressed a control. "Sh'Floot, come in."
No reply. Gary tried again, frowning. Then again.
"He doesn't answer, sir."
"That is odd. Very well. Perhaps he thought he would be punished and has deserted. We must, however, collect M'Lady's ship. Where did she leave it, Ch'Fink?"
"I can show you, shir." The Procyon went past him to the control board. A readout flickered onto the screen.
"About fifty kilometers from here," said Gary. "We can be there in a few minutes."
"Let us go," the Jilectan commanded.
The ship roared. Edwin, seated between Comishvor and the Procyon, kept his face down. He suspected strongly that when they reached the location indicated by Sh'Fink, the ship would not be there.
His suspicion proved correct, but the aircar stood beside a cliff face, hood open. Gary circled the scout down beside it and Comishvor stood up, going forward to the control panel.
"Is anyone nearby, Gary?"
"No one in the aircar, sir." Gary stared at the little craft. Withered, blackened grass beneath a spreading tree showed where the Lady's ship had been docked.
"This is odd." Comishvor surveyed the craft doubtfully. "Gary, go to the aircar and look inside. See if you can find any evidence of what occurred here."
"Yes, M'lord." Gary stood up and disembarked. Comishvor watched his progress on the screen as he crossed to the aircar, opened the door and looked inside. He shrugged, got in, did something to the controls, then got out. He walked back to the scout and the hatch opened to admit him.
"The lock's been burned out, sir. Looks like a blaster on needle beam. The engine won't start, and the radio's out."
Comishvor frowned. "This makes no sense. How did the aircar come to be here? What is wrong with it?"
"I didn't stop to check, sir." Gary glanced at the scanner, then reached out abruptly to switch the beam to wide range. "Sir, there's someone hiding in the trees over there."
Comishvor examined the readout. "You are quite correct, Gary."
"It might just be a hunter or something, sir."
"It might. Take us over there and we shall soon see."
Gary sat down and took the controls. The craft lifted and skimmed across the ground toward the strand of low growing trees. A figure broke from hiding as they approached and began to run in panic across the tree dotted slope. Gary sent the scout across and settled it in the runner's path. The man stopped, turned, and began to run the other way.
"It's Percy!" Gary said. "What's going on here?"
"We shall soon see." Comishvor's voice was grim. "Gary, you remain here. Edwin, come with me."
Ed stood up, heart in his throat and followed Comishvor out of the ship. Percy looked back, stopped, and stared in horror at Comishvor. For a moment he looked wildly around, appeared to contemplate fleeing again, then abruptly ran forward and threw himself to his knees at the Jilectan's feet.
Comishvor stared down at him. "What has happened?" he demanded. "Why are you afraid of me? What have you done?"
Edwin had already figured it out. He took a careful step back from Comishvor. The truth was about to emerge. Perhaps he could make a break for it before...
Percy began to speak. "M'lord, M'lady Gootishville made me pilot the ship here. She told me not... not to mention it to you or she'd kill me." He wrung his hands imploringly. "Sir, I did what she said. She didn't tell me why, but I knew it must be something you wouldn't approve of. Forgive me, M'lord!"
"Go on."
"She... she had me dock the ship here, and took the Procyons in the aircar. That was six or seven hours ago, sir. I waited here. Then I saw the aircar coming back, and land. Cory came into the ship."
"Cornelius!"
"Yes sir." Percy's eyes flicked to Edwin. "He said Ed was outside in the aircar, hurt, and told me to go get him. As soon as I was out the hatch, he shut it on me, and a minute later I heard the repulsers start. I got clear and he took off. Sir, he got away, and it's my fault..."
Comishvor rubbed his left eyebrow. "Go on."
"I went to the aircar, M'lord, and tried to call the ship. The radio wouldn't work, and when I tried to start the car the engine was dead. He'd taken the keys, but even hot wiring it wouldn't work. Damn him! He must've busted it with telekinesis. I was trying to fix it when I heard the scout coming, and thought maybe he was coming back with the Lady, or something. I didn't know what to think, so I hid." Percy hung his head. "I blew it, M'lord. I'm sorry."
Edwin tried to run.
Comishvor was upon him before he had taken three steps. His arms were pinned effectively behind him, and he was dragged back and pushed inexorably to his knees before the alien. A little, sardonic smile played across Comishvor's lips as he surveyed the Terran. "Ah, Edwin, we have in you an accomplished actor, haven't we?"
"S... sir?"
"You knew Cornelius had escaped, did you not?"
"No sir!"
The Jilectan's hand caught him a stinging blow across the face. "Do not lie, Edwin." The words were emotionless. "You knew."
"Not. . not right away, sir. Just..." he stopped, pressing a palm to his smarting cheek, blinking back the stars which sparkled before his eyes.
"Yes? When did you know?"
"When... when Cory took off, sir. He called me telepathically."
"You did not inform me."
Edwin was silent.
"Why did you not inform me, Edwin? Were you afraid I would punish you for your error?"
"No, sir. I knew you wouldn't."
"Then why did you not tell me? Did you want your friend to leave you?"
Edwin lifted his face. "I wanted him safe, sir. As long as he stayed with you, he was in danger. Lady Gootishville has tried to kill him at least half a dozen times. This last time she nearly succeeded. It was only blind luck that she didn't!"
"Silence, Edwin!"
Ed obeyed. Comishvor caught him by the shirt and brought him effortlessly to his feet. "Where was he going?"
"I don't know."
Another stinging slap. "Where?"
"I won't tell you."
"You will tell me, Edwin."
"You'll go after him and bring him back, and Lady Gootishville will kill him!"
"That is my business, slave, not yours!" The Jilectan's voice escalated with anger. "Cornelius belongs to me, and you will tell me where he is going!"
"Cory's my friend! I'll never tell you!"
Edwin heard Percy's sharp intake of breath at his defiance. Comishvor's hand caught him across the face again, making his ears sing.
"Where is Cornelius?"
"Forget him, sir. You have another psychic, like M'lady said. Let Cory go. He won't do you any good if he's dead."
"I will deal with my Lady, Edwin, and you will obey my commands. Tell me where Cornelius is."
Edwin bit his lip and looked down, shaking his head. The Jilectan hit him again, and the blow knocked him sideways. He landed hard, and his head came into violent contact with something firm and unyielding. Stars burst before his eyes fading slowly into blackness.
**********
Chapter 19
Cory sat before the controls of his hijacked vessel. On the screen was the blackness of hyperspace, but the computer beeped, announcing ten minutes to sublight.
He bit his lip, worrying. Ed would try to shield him when Comishvor realized that he had escaped. Would the Jilectan hurt him? Probably. Cory swallowed hard. Had he really done the right thing, leaving without Ed? Ed had told him to go, and rather urgently, too, but the worry and doubt remained. How far would the Jilectan go in trying to extract the truth from him? In a tight spot, Cory knew, Comishvor tended to lose his head and do things he later regretted.
A warning beep sounded, and ten seconds later the ship emerged from hyperspace. Corala swam before him, lovely and serene against the starry blackness. Cory studied the scanners. His sensors detected no ships in the area. He would do what Gary had done--take the ship in like a meteor and then pull out. There was a lot of meteor activity in the system. He wondered how many smugglers made their landings that way. Quite a few, probably.
A sudden jab of warning made his neck prickle. He slapped the controls just as the proximity alarm sounded. A ship had emerged from behind one of Corala's moons--a huge, coal black vessel with a white chu-bar etched against its ebony sides. It fired.
Instinctively he yanked his ship sideways. He knew that ship-- had seen it before only once, years ago, but the image was seared into his memory.
The blast caught him a glancing blow, but it spun him sideways, for an instant out of control. With difficulty, he righted the ship. Lights blinked erratically on the panel before him.
His heart was hammering in his chest as he brought the ship around. Lady Gootishville, it appeared, wasn't through with him yet. This was her brother's ship. Somehow she had gotten word to him of Cory's escape, and during the eighty- seven hours it had taken him to reach Corala, Lord Yoogashvor had also reached it. And M'lord had been waiting for him.
The controls were sluggish, his power levels drained nearly to nothing. Glancing frantically at his instruments, he saw that the pirate vessel was approaching, ready to immobilize his tiny vessel in its tractor beam.
He did the only thing he could. Releasing all remaining repulser power, he let the gravity of Corala take him.
The ship plummeted like the meteor it was imitating, gaining speed by the second. Cory watched his instruments tensely, his eyes tracking back and forth, his fingers poised over the manual control for the repulsers. Slowly, carefully, he began to apply power to slow the ship's plunge. The damaged repulsers whined and complained and Cory knew that at any second they could simply quit. Lights were blinking frantically all across his board. He glanced at the velocity indicator, praying silently that the repulsers would hold out long enough to slow the ship down to the point where the glide wings could take over. His heart was in his throat as atmosphere screamed against the hull of the ship.
They did, just barely. The ragged chug of power changed to a dying cough and went silent.
But it was enough. Gliding in was no picnic. Cory had never attempted such a thing before. He tried to emulate Gary--wide, lazy circles, which brought him lower and lower into the layers of atmosphere. He mustn't crack up on landing. If he did, and was hurt, Yoogashvor would be along to pick him up at his leisure. He knew that, and knew too that already one of the pirate's smaller ships would be after him, monitoring his landing site. He prayed helplessly, watching the surface of the planet rushing toward him.
It was spring down there. Cory located an open field and put the nose down.
The ship struck with a terrific jolt, and plowed forward to come to a hard, crashing halt with its nose buried in a mass of underbrush. Cory shook his head to clear it, surprised to find himself unhurt, and yanked off his safety webbing.
No time to waste. He opened the hatch manually, grabbed an emergency kit and a supply of food from a compartment. Rapidly, he tucked the articles into his pockets and went out.
Alarm was prickling on his skin, a warning, he knew, that he was running out of time. He found himself in an open meadow, and in the distance was a low, rather shabby farmhouse. Cultivated fields stretched around it.
He ran toward it, legs flying. The growl of engines sounded above, and glancing back he saw the scout closing the distance. He'd had it. After all he'd done, he'd failed...
Two children had come out of the farmhouse and were watching him, wide eyed. A woman appeared behind them, turned, and shouted something over her shoulder. A moment later a man appeared, a newsstrip in one hand, squinting at Cory's running form in the level rays of the setting sun.
"Help!" Cory staggered toward them. "Help me!"
The scout circled above him and he heard the reverberating hum of a stunbolt.
It didn't hit him dead center, but he felt the tingling shock wash over him. His head swimming, he realized he was on hands and knees on the grassy ground. The ship circled once more, then started to descend.
Another roar cut through the first, and there was the crack of blaster fire. Someone--the woman, he thought--screamed, and a door slammed. He slumped forward, head spinning. More explosions, almost directly overhead. He managed to lift his face, look up.
A battle was taking place directly over him. Another scout was circling, firing, and the first scout was returning the fire. Cory rolled sluggishly sideways, managed to get to hands and knees once more, and crawled.
His movements were maddeningly slow, but gradually feeling was coming back to his extremeties. The battle continued, and he saw that one ship was trailing smoke, and the other had lost part of its stabilizing fin. Man! These guys meant business! Staggering, Cory made it to his feet, and stumbled away from the battle, his legs barely able to hold him.
A barn, weathered and dilapidated, stood in the field. He made for it, then heard behind him the purr of an aircar.
He turned to face it, saw the vehicle land, and two figures leap from it and sprint toward him. One was big--a giant of a man, wearing snug fitting breeches and a loose, deep red tunic. Cory staggered back, his legs still half-numb.
A second aircar swooped down to a landing beside the first. A figure leaped from it, and the two who had emerged from the first vehicle turned, blasters drawn. Cory didn't wait. Turning, he ran, still weaving unsteadily, past the barn and lunged forward into a field of plants, which towered higher than his head. Behind him came another explosion, succeeded instantly by more blaster fire.
His legs felt almost normal again as he lurched along between the sticky stalks, the vegetation grabbing at his legs. The sun was setting and the light had grown dim. He fled on, his heart pounding, trying unsuccessfully to quiet his breathing. Somewhere nearby he could hear more footfalls and a murmur of voices. Shields up, he froze like a hunted rabbit, waiting for them to come collect him.
Whoever it was, they went on by. Cory let out his breath and went on. Behind him the sounds of battle began to dwindle, then, at last, ceased altogether.
Somewhere ahead a dog began to bark. Again Cory froze, waiting. The barking grew more frantic, and cut off abruptly at a harsh command from the throat of a man. Cory remained still a moment, then, gradually began to move forward again.
"... Shielding must be really good." The words reached him faintly--a soft tenor, unquestionably the voice of a boy. "Oh, well, old Comishie would probably teach 'em to shield, even if he never did anything else for 'em. Poor guy."
"Just find him, Shorty, and cut the bleeding heart stuff. I want to get out of this place. What the devil *is* this stuff, anyway?"
"Looks sort of like corn, but the way they grab your legs is really..." The voice paused abruptly, then resumed, soft and wary. "Trev, he's close."
"Which way?"
"There. Easy. I don't think he's armed, but he's scared and desperate."
"Get behind me, Shorty."
There was a crunch of boots, drawing steadily nearer. Cory looked desperately around. Who *were* these guys? One of them must be a psychic, too. Did Yoogashvor own a psychic? Or perhaps this psychic belonged to the one who had attacked Yoogashvor's ship. It was obvious that he had two different parties searching for him.
Whoever they were, he didn't want them to catch him. He waited, biting his lip until he saw movement among the stalks ahead of him.
Then he sprang up and ran. His pursuer seemed to anticipate his move. A small form crashed suddenly through the stalks, striking him from behind before he had gone two steps. He stumbled forward and kicked frantically at his assailant. There was a grunt of pain and the grip on his waist loosened. Then a much larger form loomed over him, catching him by the back of his shirt and lifting him bodily from the ground. He lashed out and his foot connected with something soft. There was an anguished cry, then a curse. He was slammed hard to his back, the impact knocking the breath out of him.
"No, Trev! Don't hurt him!"
"I won't." It was a pained growl. "Damn! Right in the... hold still, you little rat!" Powerful arms pinned him to the ground. "Quit fighting or I'll stun you!"
Cory desisted, going slack. It was like fighting a Jil. The guy was incredibly strong. In the dimness he saw a strong, dark, slender face, the man's lips compressed into a thin line. The smaller figure knelt beside him, and Cory saw that the newcomer matched the voice. He was only a boy. Brown hair, blue eyes and a sprinkling of freckles. The kid put a hand on his shoulder. "Relax, Cornelius. We aren't going to hurt you."
"Let me go! Please, let me go!" Cory spoke to the boy, hearing his voice crack with the strain of the past few days. "Please, I've got to get someplace! It's terribly important!"
"Yeah." His big captor gripped his wrists and lifted him effortlessly to his feet. His voice was languid and uninterested. "It always is. Shorty, signal Raul that we're ready."
"Wait a minute." The boy was watching him, expression sympathetic. "Why's it so important?"
"I... I have to meet someone."
"Who?"
Cory looked away.
"Your friend, Edwin?"
He jerked his head back to the boy. "How did you know?"
"Lord Blashvor told us about you." He grinned. "He's wanted you and Edwin for a long time."
"How did you know I'd be here, though?"
"Oh, Lord Blashvor has connections."
"You mean spies? Aboard Comishvor's ship?"
The boy's grin widened.
"Who?"
"I didn't say there was one, did I?"
"Then how did you..."
The man addressed as Trev interrupted him. "Blashvor'll tell you whatever he wants you to know. Come on, now. We've got to go."
"Yeah, okay. Come on, Cornelius."
"Please, I can't. I have to..."
Trev's grip was iron on his wrist. "Move it, Bud."
"No, please..." He tried to pull back, but the big man's grip drew him inexorably along.
The boy ran alongside. "Easy on him, Trev. He's had a bad time."
"I'm not hurting him, Shorty."
The boy pressed a small stud on his chronometer. "Jason to Raul. We've got him. Come get us."
A voice responded. "On my way, Jase."
"Where are you taking me? Please, I have to go..."
"Sorry, buddy. Lord Blashvor wants you."
"But I..."
"Don't worry about your friend," Jason advised. "We'll pick him up, too, if you'll tell us where you were going to meet him. Take it easy. In this day and age it's a lot safer for a Terran psychic to be under the protection of a Jil."
An aircar hummed toward them, settling to the ground three meters away, crushing the sticky stalks beneath it. Trev pulled him forward and pushed him into the rear seat, then got in behind him. The boy got into the front and turned to face him. The car lifted off and leveled out over the field, heading south. The driver glanced over at the boy and grinned. "You okay, boss?"
"Yeah. Thanks, Raul."
"Good." The man's gaze flicked to Cory. "Take it easy, little guy. You ain't gonna be hurt. Blashvor's a sweetheart."
"Why did you run away from Comishvor?" asked Jason.
"Huh?"
"Like I said, it's safer to be under the protection of a Jil than on your own. Was he mean to you?"
Cory swallowed. "Sometimes."
"Then you lucked out. Blashvor never is."
"What about Ed? I have to..."
"Tell us where you were going to meet him. We'll go get him, too."
Cory was silent. He must protect Ed. These people already knew too much.
"Blashvor'll get it out of him," Raul said, grinning.
Five minutes went by. Then the aircar began to lose altitude, and Cory saw the scout ship ahead, concealed beneath an overhanging cliff. Ocean waves washed the shoreline nearby and as they approached, the hatch of the vessel opened. They went through to settle in the ship's lifeboat hangar. Behind then the opening closed. There was a roar of repulsers.
Jason calmly unfastened his safety webbing and opened the door. "Come on, Cornelius."
"Could you call me Cory, please? I hate Cornelius."
"Don't blame you. We just called you that 'cause that's what M'lady called you in her transmission."
"What transmission?"
The boy laughed. "Lady Gootishville contacted her brother, Yoogashvor, and told him the psychic, Cornelius, would be heading for Corala. That's why we were there."
Trev and Raul had also disembarked. Together they crossed the hangar and went through a hatchway.
They entered a luxurious lounge, decorated with expensive pieces of furniture and beautiful wall hangings. A Jilectan turned to face then, smiling a welcome, and Cory recognized him as Blashvor, first son of the late Lord Trashvor, whom he had last seen aboard Trashvor's ship, how many years ago? The being had hardly changed at all, save to grow slightly taller and more muscular. Blond hair fell loosely around his handsome, regular features.
"Well, my psychic, you got him, I see. Excellent. Bring him here, Trevor."
The big man propelled Cory forward. Jason accompanied them, dropped gracefully to one knee, rose with equal grace, and stood to one side.
Blashvor's eyes were intent upon the newcomer. "Cornelius, is it not?"
Cory tried to speak but his voice wouldn't work. Jason answered for him. "He prefers Cory, sir."
Trevor pushed the captive forward another step. Cory dropped to one knee, as Jason had, but remained there, eyes down.
"I remember you," said Blashvor slowly. "You have been with Comishvor for some time, have you not?'
Cory found his voice. "Yes, sir." It came out as a croak.
"Your friend, Edwin, somehow prevented my brother from killing me that time Comishvor was brought aboard and Dishvor decided to revolt."
"How did he do it, sir?" asked Jason.
"I have always wondered about that. Can you tell me, Cory?"
Cory looked down, but the Jilectan's big hand caught him beneath his chin, bringing his head up. "How did your friend do it, Cory?" The grip tightened painfully.
"M'lord!" Jason's voice was distressed. "Please, you're hurting him!"
Blashvor glanced briefly at his psychic and the grip loosened slightly. "How did your friend do it, Cory? You will tell me."
"Tell him, Cory!" Jason urged. "Come on, don't be stupid!"
"Surely you have no loyalty to Comishvor," Blashvor said. "You ran away from him at a time when to be a psychic without protection is a most dangerous mode of living. You must have had reason to fear him to do that."
"I didn't fear *him*," Cory managed.
"Then why did you run away?" Jason sounded astonished.
"I... was afraid of his wife."
"Lady Gootishville?" Blashvor sounded puzzled. "Why?"
"She was trying to kill me. She hated me."
**********
tbc
