Shields Lady (41 page)

"But, Gryph - "

            He grasped her shoulders and gave her a slight shake. His eyes were gleaming as he looked down at her. "Do as I say, Shieldmate. I told you once there would be times when you would obey me. This is one of those times. This is Shield business and I know my business. Go."

She didn't try to argue against the implacable command she read in.his face. "Yes, Gryph."

            "Move."

She nodded and turned away, clutching her cloak and the pin she had used to open the lock. Rakken

moved quickly to follow her. She stopped a few paces away and glanced back at Gryph. He was looking closely at the open lock.

"Gryph?" she whispered gently.

            He didn't glance up from his study of the lock. "What is it, Sariana?" "I love you."

            That got his attention. His eyes gleamed in the unnatural corridor lighting. But Sariana didn't wait for a response. She smiled to herself and scurried back down the corridor with Etion Rakken at her heels.

            Gryph might not realize it because he had a great deal on his mind at the moment, but he loved her. Sariana was sure of it. One of these days he'd figure it out for himself. He was a little thick at times, but he wasn't stupid.

            Gryph waited only long enough to be sure Sariana was obeying his orders. When she and Rakken disappeared he pocketed the lock, then turned and started quickly down the corridor Rakken had indicated. There was no reason to think Rakken had lied. The man's nerve had gone. He was in no condition to lie.

            The corridor was a long one, lit with the same internal glow that characterized the rest of the cavern. A long time ago someone or something had excavated and built well. The metal looked almost new and the lighting system seemed strong even though it must have been functioning for centuries.

            The significance of Targyn's discovery suddenly hit Gryph. According to the records only ships and weapons and a couple of prisma cutters had been found in the past. There had never been any indication of construction or habitation, and therefore no indication of what the creators of the prisma ships looked like.

            But these corridors and rooms offered hints that whatever had set out to boobytrap this sector of the galaxy had a physical body that used such conveniences as benches. The beings also had at least some senses that were similar to those of humans. For example, they needed light in a familiar range of the spectrum to find their way around in the darkness.

            But they had learned to do a great deal more with light than humans ever had, Gryph reminded himself as he turned left in the branching corridors. The beings who had built this installation and created the crystal ships had discovered how to turn light into a weapon that could be controlled by the mind.

            And Targyn, a strong but mentally unstable Shield, had been living here, studying alien secrets for months.

            Gryph slowed as he turned down the last corridor, his senses alert for that tingling awareness that indicated someone was approaching. It was a hunter's talent, not Shield talent he depended on now. Openings were scattered in the corridor walls. If he received sufficient warning of someone's approach, he should be able to duck out of sight for a few crucial minutes.

            The warning that finally came was the faint rumble of voices from the other side of a bend in the corridor. Gryph sprinted to get to the safety of an open room. There was no time to slide the metal door shut behind him. The movement would have been obvious.

            There also wasn't much point. Gryph decided it was time to start whittling down the odds. Bandit hunting was familiar work. Lock in hand, he waited patiently just inside the chamber as the two men came down tile hall.

The first man who spoke sounded disgruntled and a little scared.

            "He's crazy I tell you," the man complained to his companion. "We should have known better man to make a deal with a Shield. All that talk of making our fortunes with prisma was just to get us to work harder for him. I don't think he ever intends to neutralize the stuff. He's going to continue fooling around with that live crystal."

"He'll kill us all in the process," the other man said bluntly. "So what do we do?"

            "We can take him," the first man said softly. "He's good, I'll grant you that, but there's three of us and

one of him. We'll have to get hold of Miscroft and explain just what's going on. Targyn can't use that crazy mind business on us because we're not Shields. It's just a case of three fighting men against one. We can handle those odds."

            "Whatever we do it had better be quick. Since that other Shield arrived Targyn's been acting crazier than ever. He says he's going to prime the prisma, whatever that means."

            "Let's find Miscroft. We'll make our move now. I think you're right. Targyn's mind is going fast and there's no telling what he'll do next."

            Gryph listened to the conversation and decided there was an element of rationality to it. If the three bandits turned on Targyn they might just possibly take him. If they didn't succeed in that, they could at least distract him long enough for Gryph to do something permanent about Targyn's future. He lowered the arm he had raised in preparation for hurling the lock at a bandit head.

            There was an old Shield saying to the effect that a little strategy went farther in the long run than a great deal of indiscriminate bandit bashing.

            Unfortunately, strategy had its limitations. Even as Gryph made the decision to let the bandits pass down the corridor, he heard their choked yells.

            "Targyn!" The first one sounded shaken. "Hey, wait a minute. What's the matter with you? We were only going to - "

            A faint whooshing noise filled the corridor, followed by a gargled scream. Gryph recognized both sounds. The first was the deadly vibration of a throwing disk. The second was the sound of death. Scratch one bandit as a potential ally.

            Gryph heard the panicked, scrambling noises the second man was making as he tried to fire a blade bow. He got off one wild shot, but the next moment he too fell with an unmistakable thud.

            This was as much of a distraction as he was likely to get, Gryph decided. He had to move now while Targyn was still resonating with the satisfaction of his kills. This was the point at which a hunter was most vulnerable.

            Gryph pinpointed Targyn's position in the corridor as best he could based on the length of time it had taken for the hurled throwing blades to cut down the two bandits.

            He launched himself out into the hall. A part of him objectively noted that he had approximated Targyn's position quite accurately. The other Shield stood a few meters away, facing Gryph. His burning eyes were surveying his victims who lay on the floor in widening pools of blood. In his hand he held a third throwing blade. Targyn was well-trained. He left little to chance.

            Gryph sent the heavy metal lock hurling toward Targyn along a trajectory that would have caught the other man in the throat if all had gone well.

            But it didn't. Targyn saw the flicker of movement an instant before Gryph appeared in the corridor. He reacted to it instinctively, throwing his lethal blade even as he whipped himself to one side.

            The lock struck Targyn's shoulder instead of his throat. Targyn's blade whooshed down the corridor toward Gryph, who was no longer occupying the middle of it. It missed its target by scant centimeters.

            As soon as he had launched his own poor weapon, Gryph had followed it toward its goal. He leaped the bodies of the bandits in the process and closed the gap between himself and Targyn swiftly. He had to reach the other Shield before Targyn could rearm himself.

            But Targyn made no move to pull another weapon from his kit. Instead he slapped his fingers over the prisma lock. A deathly grin stretched his lips and an unnatural glitter lit his eyes.

            Gryph sensed the mental blast of light a fraction of a second before it hit him. That small warning saved his life, but the blow stopped him cold. He went down beneath it as surely as if Targyn had struck him with a blade.

            Instinctively he fought the slamming force of the light inside his head the same way he bad fought it before. But this time he had no prisma to use as a focus tool.

            Somehow ne caught his mental balance and blocked the paralyzing rays before they could rip his mind to shreds. His whole body vibrated with the energy it was taking to adjust to the strange battle. He didn't know how he was managing the defense without his prisma lock, but he didn't question it. Gryph simply held on.

            He opened his eyes and saw Targyn braced a short distance away. The other man's eyes widened and his grin broadened.

"This," Targyn said, "is going to be interesting."

            Gryph's only consolation was that Targyn apparently had to exert as much physical energy in focusing the mind blast as Gryph was using to block it. At least the rogue Shield couldn't cut him to pieces with a blade while holding him pinned with the invisible light rays.

            But Gryph knew he couldn't hold out for long. Already Targyn's mental weapon seemed to be gathering energy and strengthening itself. Targyn's fingers played on the prisma lock as if the man were searching for just the right wavelength.

            Gryph closed his eyes, satisfied that his enemy was as physically immobilized as he was. For all the good that did. Then he started concentrating on feeling his way back along the wavelengths of painfully brilliant light that were trying to shatter him.

            He had thought about this a lot during the past few hours. He'd had little else to do but think about it while locked in the prison chamber.

            His only hope lay in the suspicion that projecting the kind of mind violence Targyn was projecting couldn't be too dissimilar from projecting thoughts and images. The mechanics of the thing had to be the same, Gryph had reasoned. And he'd had plenty of experience lately projecting images into Sariana's head.

            He concentrated the way he would if he had his lock under his fingers. The pulsing rays of light separated under his mental touch, just as they would if he were tracking prisma. Gryph found the ones he wanted and started the task of countering their rhythm, feeding the pattern back upon itself and projecting it.

            The first indication he had of any success was when Targyn screamed in rage. "You bastard! Do you think you can play this game? I'll show you how weak you are." Gryph sensed the redoubling effort Targyn was making and he moved to counter it before the new

blast could strike.

            The battle was fought in an agonizing silence, the blood of the dead bandits trickling between Gryph's bare feet as he stood braced in the corridor.

            Targyn screamed again, rage and hatred flaring out along the invisible beam of mental light. Gryph caught the rage and hatred and sent it pulsing back along with the full force of the beam. Targyn's control faltered for a moment. It resumed almost immediately, but Gryph had sensed the

growing weakness in his opponent. He sent an image of that weakness back along with everything else he was trying to project.

            Without any warning Targyn broke. The blast of mental light wavered and disappeared. Gryph was so overwhelmed by the sudden loss of a target that he staggered and slipped in the blood of one of the bandits.

            He went down on one knee just as Targyn threw himself forward, knife in hand. "I'll kill you anyway!" Targyn screamed. "You can't stop me. I'm stronger than you are. Stronger man

any other Shield!"

            Gryph scooped up the knife lying on the floor beside the fallen bandit. He brought the blade up in a short arc that ended in Targyn's chest.

            Targyn collapsed across the body of the bandit he had killed earlier, his blood mingling with his victim's.

            Gryph crouched warily beside him. A dying Shield was not an unarmed Shield. "Targyn?"

            Targyn's eyes opened, revealing a gaze that was already glazing over. He smiled grimly. "Too late, Chassyn. You're too damn late. It's already started."

"What's already started?"

            "The reaction. Without me to control it, every weapon on the ship will detonate. It's going to take a big chunk out of this continent, Chassyn. There's enough power in those weapons to reach all the way to Little Chance. Maybe farther."

"How do I stop it?" Gryph demanded savagely.

            "You're stronger than I thought, Chassyn. Maybe, just maybe, you could have done something if you had your lock or the aid of another Shield. But you have neither, do you? The storytellers will weave a hell of a legend out of all this, won't they? "

            What was left of his life flowed out of Targyn before Gryph could figure out how to threaten a dying man.

Chapter 19

            SARIANA fell to the floor as the last of the painful energy vanished from her fevered mind. Lucky, perched on her shoulder, clung tightly and hissed anxiously. Sariana had been kneeling on the floor of the metal chamber, hugging herself while she endured the battle Gryph was fighting.

            When she had picked up the echoes of the first blast that had struck Gryph she had known immediately that it was the same sort of attack that had caught him unaware yesterday morning. Now she knew its source. It wasn't hard to tell that Targyn was projecting a killing energy and that Gryph was fighting for his life.

            She was powerless to do anything except watch mentally as the battle flared back and forth. But when the end came there was no sense of loss. She could still feel Gryph's presence somewhere in the corridors. He was alive. And she knew what that meant.

"Targyn's dead, Etion," she announced with weary relief. "He's gone."