"They're supposed to be. But none of those animals ever came forth again."
"Jag's right," Paenther said, meeting Lyon's gaze. "We don't know what we're walking into." His gaze went to Kara, regret in his eyes. "We'd be fools not to use the one weapon we have."
"I agree." Kara shoved her way out of Lyon's arms and stood in front of him. "You have to use me."
He gripped her shoulders. "You don't know what you're agreeing to. Trust me on this." He started to turn, but she grabbed his hand, her grip surprisingly strong. Her eyes and voice stronger still.
"Then you're going to do this for me. You owe me this, Lyon. After the hell I went through in that house, I can finally find out why. I want to know. For you, for me, for all the Ferals. We need to know."
"She's right, Chief." Paenther's mouth was grim as his gaze met Lyon's. "I swear to you, I searched that place top to bottom when I was looking for the dark charm, and found nothing. Without more to go on, we could be wasting our time."
Lyon's grip tightened on Kara's shoulders as he turned back to her. "It's going to hurt."
She shrugged, her eyes filled with a determination as strong as any warrior's. And he realized it was his own pain he was trying to avoid. The pain of watching her suffer yet again.
But she was right. As was Paenther. He'd be a fool to go into battle blindfolded when sight was but a short, heart-ripping procedure away.
"Let's do it, then." He looked to the Shaman. "Are you up for it?"
"Yes." The man looked at him with weary humor. "I don't suppose you're willing to wait for me to clear this magic?"
"I'm not."
"I didn't think so."
As Tighe helped the Shaman to his feet, Lyon turned to Hawke. "Get yourself laid while we do this. We'll fill you in on the way to Feral House."
Hawke nodded, his eyes grave.
Marina, standing nearby smiled at Hawke and held out her hand. "Come, Warrior."
Lyon gripped Kara's hand as they followed the Shaman to one of the offices off the main living area, lending her strength. And stealing it back again.
The Shaman stood at the door and held up his hand. "The Radiant and one other only. I won't have an audience."
But the Ferals ignored him, brushing past the Shaman's outstretched hand with a rumble of low growls.
"We stay." Lyon spoke for all of them.
The Shaman frowned and looked at Kara. "You may not want them to see this."
But Kara only shrugged. "From what I've pieced together about the scene in the dungeon, they've seen just about all there is to see of me. They stay."
The Shaman shrugged. "All right, then. Sit in the chair." His gaze turned to Lyon. "I have to be standing behind her, but you'll need to keep her in the chair."
Lyon's muscles tensed. He wasn't going to like this. He wasn't going to like it at all.
He led Kara to the chair and knelt in front of her, holding one of her hands as he placed the other on her shoulder.
"I'm here, little one." He looked her in the eye. "Whatever happens, I'm here."
She gave him a small, rueful smile. "If you're trying to reassure me, a nice lie might work better. Something like, it's not going to hurt a bit?"
"I'm not going to lie to you."
Her expression turned serious, her gaze softening. "I'm glad." A soft emotion sifted out of her to wrap around him, dulling the edges of the apprehension they shared.
"I learned this trick from a Mage a long, long time ago and haven't practiced it much. It may not be pretty."
"Do it."
The Shaman began to chant in a language even Lyon couldn't identify. A language probably long gone from the Earth.
Kara's hand clenched his as the first wave of her pain hit him. A moment later, a second, stronger wave hit, making her gasp. As the third ripped through her, she cried out.
He wasn't going to survive this.
"How much more?" he snarled.
"Not much, but the worst is yet to come. Hold her down."
Lyon had barely tightened his grip on her shoulder when the scream rose from her throat, her pain so sharp, so excruciating as it pierced his own flesh, an answering yell escaped his own.
He felt strong hands on his shoulders and knew Paenther was at his back. Through a haze of white-hot pain, he saw Tighe reach for Kara as she fell forward.
"Kara."
Her pain flew at him like daggers, ripping apart his organs, clawing out the chambers of his heart.
He felt a hand go around his wrist.
"Let go of her, Chief," Paenther said.
"No."
"You're not going to do her any good if you pass out, too."
"No." He could take it from her. Take the pain. Or at least help her carry it. He wasn't letting go of her. Ever. Ever.
He didn't know how much time had passed when he was finally able to start breathing again.
Kara stirred with a heart-wrenching moan.
His vision cleared enough for him to realize his men were tight around them, having pushed the Shaman out of the way. Tighe was standing beside her and had her head lying on his arm. Jag was kneeling on her other side, her free hand tight in his. Paenther remained at his back.
Lyon struggled to his feet, glaring at the Therian who'd caused such pain. "Can I move her?"
The Shaman lifted his hand, then dropped it again as if he didn't have the strength to hold it up. "Yes. You're not going to cause her any additional pain by moving her."
His men stepped back as Lyon lifted her into his arms, then settled onto the deep leather chair with her on his lap. Kara's pain blanketed him in raw agony, but he wouldn't leave her to fight it alone.
Her head lolled on his shoulder, then jerked, her entire body going tense as a high wire.
And suddenly it wasn't only pain attacking him, but fear. Terror in its purest form.
"Easy, sweetheart. You're safe."
"No. No. Oh, God," she moaned.
"She's remembering," the Shaman said behind him. "Reliving the things she's forgotten. You can talk to her. Ask questions. In fact you need to, before she gets lost in there."
Lyon squeezed her close, "Kara. Kara, I need to know what you see. What's happening?"
"Cut me." She gasped. "It hurts. She wants it to hurt. Wants me to hurt."
"Who cut you, Kara?"
"It hurts."
"Where? Where does it hurt?"
"My hip. So much blood. So much pain."
"Who did this to you, Kara?"
"Can't say. Can't make a sound."
"Try another question," the Shaman suggested.
"Why, Kara? Why do they want you to hurt?"
"To feed her pets."
Paenther stepped into his line of vision. "Did this happen recently, Kara? Or in the past?"
When she didn't respond, Lyon tried the question another way. "Kara, sweetheart, how old are you?"
"Twenty-seven."
"How old were you when they cut you?"
"Twenty-seven."
Lyon met Paenther's gaze. "Kara, where were you when you were cut?"
"My bedroom. The Radiant's bedroom."
"Shit," Jag said behind him.
"Who cut you, Kara? Who did this to you?"
"Vhyper. And Zaphene. She has strange eyes. Copper rings around her eyes."
"Zaphene's Therian," Tighe said. "Kara's not remembering correctly."
"Maybe she is," the Shaman said. "In the old days, there were Mage who could change small aspects of their appearance for short periods. Their typical trick was to hide the copper rings of their eyes in order to bewitch a Therian. It takes powerful magic. But there's no doubt we're dealing with that kind of magic here. The kind I haven't seen in centuries. Tens of centuries."
"Kara, was Vhyper helping Zaphene?"
"Yes."
A muscle leaped in Paenther's jaw. "Vhyper wouldn't help a Mage. I know him. He would never team up with a Mage, not for any reason."
"It's always the ones you don't expect," Jag muttered.
Lyon shook his head. "She's bewitched him."
"Kara, was it Zaphene who freed you and Vhyper from the prison cells?"
"Yes."
"Did she help Vhyper stab you?"
Kara moaned, jerking back as if reliving the pain. "Vhyper didn't stab me. Bleeding spell to bleed me quickly. They knew… they knew you'd come for me. Didn't have much time, but the pets needed feeding, and you'd taken the cantric." She began to gasp.
"Easy, Kara. Easy, little one." He pulled the terror and the pain from her as hard and fast as he could. "Who stabbed you?"
"The ones in the robes."
"Did you see their faces? Anything?"
"No. Only their knives."
"How many?" Paenther asked.
"I don't know. More than four."
Lyon stroked her hair. "Where were they? Where was Zaphene? We didn't see anyone but you and Vhyper when we got down there."
"Hiding. Zaphene was hiding with her pets."
"Were her pets the ones that stabbed you?"
"I don't know."
"They have to be somewhere in the dungeons," Paenther said. "I never searched them. I checked that door when I searched the house, Chief, I swear it. I thought it was sealed tight, like it always is. I missed it."
The Shaman lifted his hand and dropped it again. "Warding. Magic to hide the truth from you."
Lyon looked at Paenther. "Call the house. Warn Kougar and Foxx there may be Mage hiding in the dungeon. I want them out of the house until we get there."
"What about Wulfe? We can't just leave him to them."
"Leave him. If it turns to war, he could turn on us as easily as the Mage." Lyon turned back to Kara, his sense of urgency to return to Feral House growing by the second. But there was more he needed to know. "Why, Kara? Why did Vhyper and Zaphene do this to you?"
"She needed my blood."
"Her pets needed your blood?"
"The ritual needed my blood. She didn't have enough, but you were coming. Vhyper told her to hide. He'd get the rest later."
His grip tightened on her. "Like hell.. They're never coming near you again." He glanced up as Hawke joined them, then turned his attention back to Kara. "What ritual, sweetheart? Why did they need your blood?"
"To free the Daemons."
Lyon felt his men's shock as clearly as his own.
"They can't free the Daemons." Tighe's voice was hot. Indignant. "No one can do that but us."
"That may be, Stripes, but we've already blooded that blade," Jag drawled. "And if I remember correctly, doesn't the ritual to free the bastards require the blood of an unascended Radiant?"
Silence burst over the room, punctured by Tighe's groan.
"Beatrice. Her death was no accident. She died right after Foxx brought Zaphene home."
Kara's body slowly began to relax against him, the fear and pain draining away.
"Are you still with me?"
"Uh-hmm. I feel like I just went three rounds with a grizzly bear. Or any one of you."
He slid his hand into her hair, pressing her head against his shoulder.
"If the Mage mortgaged their power to imprison the Daemons, too, why would a Mage try to free him?" she murmured.
"I don't know. Evil can take any form. This time it seems to be taking the form of a Mage witch."
"Zaphene probably bewitched Foxx into opening that window," Paenther said. "She's probably had him bewitched all along."
Tighe nodded. "Which is how Foxx wound up bringing that Daemon blade to the goddess stone the night we raised the power of the lion. And why he couldn't remember doing it."
"Dammit to hell." Lyon stood, still holding Kara tight against him. "We've got to get back there and find her. And when we do, she's dead." He looked at the Shaman. "Can you do some research? See if you can figure out what in the hell her pets are and how she means to free the Daemons?"
The Shaman nodded, straightening from the wall. His color seemed to be coming back. "I'll work on it."
He kissed Kara's head. "Can you stand?"
"Yes. I'm okay."
He let her slide to her feet, but kept her close against him as she rearranged her skirt. "If Kara's memory was right, the witch wants more of her blood. She's still in danger. I need someone to guard her."
"I'll do it," Hawke said.
Lyon nodded. "Jag, get the Hummer. We need to roll." He turned Kara to face him. "Rest while we're gone. I'll come get you as soon as we get this situation straightened out."
"I wish I could come with you." A hot spark of malice lit her eyes. "I'd like to kick Zaphene's butt for what she did to me."
"She won't live another day," he snarled. "I'll take her head myself. I promise you that."
She reached up and touched his face, her soft fingers stroking his heart. "Okay. But you have to make me a second promise as well."
"What's that?"
"Come back to me, Lyon. Whole. I couldn't bear it if anything happened to you. I love you."
And he knew he'd battle a hundred armies if he had to, to keep her by his side.
