The Pegasus's Lament by Martin Hengst Page B

Don't.” Faxon's voice was low and menacing. Though he didn't turn around, it was obvious to everyone in the room who he was talking to. “This doesn't concern you.”
    He leaned over Tionne and pressed his fingers against her neck. She wanted to pull away, but couldn't muster the strength.
    “You're traveling a dark path, Tionne.” Faxon rocked back on his heels, looking at her. “That was the merest taste of what awaits you at the end of the path. The darkness at the end of that path will consume you. It will consume you and there will be nothing left. Whatever you're involved in, whatever you think you know, you don't have the experience to temper your passion. Let me help you. Please.”
    “ I'll think about it,” she lied. “Now I just want to be left alone.”
    Faxon took her hand and she ignored the link shock that jumped between them. He stood and helped her to her feet, stepping away from the stairs.
    “ I can help you.”
    “ I don't want your help.” She started climbing the stairs, every muscle in her body screaming in protest. She stopped halfway up and looked over her shoulder at him. “I hate you.”
    For a moment, she thought he would pursue her and finish the job he'd started. He didn't. He stood at the bottom of the stairs, shaking his head. His face was a mix of sorrow and grief and she hated him for that too. She didn't need his help, and after what he had done to her, she didn't want anything to do with him. Whatever he knew, or thought he knew, didn't compare to what Nerillia had shown her.
    She wanted to run to her room, but her legs wouldn't manage anything more than a slow walk. The temporary cessation of her link with the Quintessential Sphere had had a very pronounced effect on her. Faxon probably thought the experience would make her submit, but he had another thing coming. She heaved a sigh of relief when she reached the door of her rented room and slipped inside. She closed it behind her and leaned against it, regaining some of her composure in the solitude.
    Nerillia hadn't wanted her to leave the safe house and now Tionne wondered if maybe she had made a mistake in returning. She'd argued that if she didn't return, Faxon might come looking for her. The elder quintessentialist had an annoying way of sticking his nose places that it didn't belong and Tionne doubted that either Nerillia, or Zarfensis, wanted him to be snooping around their plans. Not that she was even certain what their plans were.
    Tionne frowned. Nerillia had wanted to fill her in on the details last night in the common room of the safe house, but the Xarundi had stopped her before she'd been able to divulge anything meaningful. She knew that the success or failure of the plan depended heavily on blood, but she hadn't been able to convince either Nerillia or Zarfensis to tell her who's blood it would be or why it was so important. That was going to change, she decided. If they needed her for their plan, they'd tell her what she wanted to know. They'd have to. Besides, she wasn't coming back here.
    She crossed to the foot of the rented bed and the battered wooden chest that was on the floor there. The magical seal she'd placed on the container was still in place, so Faxon hadn't thought to disturb her belongings in his half-hearted search. Not that there was much there. She'd been rescued, if that was even the word for it, from the ruins of her village with hardly anything to her name. Her current fortune wasn't much better. There were a number of things in the trunk, but few that she actually cared about.
    Stripping off her robes, she dropped them to the floor and kicked them away. Opening the chest, she lifted out the finery Faxon had given her and set the garments aside. She took a pair of black leather breeches and a simple tunic. Dressing quickly, Tionne lifted a thin belt from inside the chest and wrapped it around her waist. To that she added her dagger, a purse with a few crowns she'd scrimped and saved from